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V^r'jT A uin i\\\
ANNALS
OF THE
AMERICAN PULPIT;
OR
COMMEMORATIVE NOTICES
OP
DISTINGUISHED AMERICAN CLERGYMEN
OF
VARIOUS DENOMINATIONS,
FROM TUU EARLY SETTLEMENT OF THE COUNTRY TO THE CLOSE OF THE YEAH
EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FIVE.
WITH HISTORICAL INTRODUCTIONS
BY WILLIAM B. SPRAGUE, D. D
VOLUME II.
NEW YORK:
ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS,
530 BROADWAY.
1859.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S66.
By ROBLRT carter & BROTHERS,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Soutben:
District cf New Yorlj.
CHRONOLOGICAL INDEX.
SUBJECTS. WRITERS. PAGE.
1771. Nathan Perkins, D. D Rev. Daniel "Waldo 1
1771. David Ely, D. D Rev. Thomas F. Davies
President Dwight 4
1771. David McClure,D.D Thomas Robbing, D. D 7
1771. Joseph Lyman, D. D John A\^oodbridge, D. D
Jared B. Waterburv, D. D 10
1771. Manasseh Cutler, LL. D Joseph Torrey, D. "D 15
1771. Ephraira Judson Chester DeweV, D. D 20
1772. Joseph Willard, D.D. LL.D Professor Sidney AVillard
Hon. Daniel Appleton White 23
1772. Benjamin TTadsworth, D. D Hon. Samuel Putnam 31
1772. Nathan Strong, D. D Thomas Robbins. D. D
Rev. Daniel "Waldo
Mrs. L. H. Sigourney 34
1772. Jonathan French Rev. Micah Stone
Hon. Josiah Quincy 42
1772 David Sanford Rev. Abner Morse
Joel Hawes. D.D 48
1772. Nathaniel Porter, D. D Rev. Thomas T. Stone
Samuel Osgood, D. D 53
1772. "William Hollingshead, D.D Rev. "William S. Lee 58
1773. Charles Backus, D D. Leonard "Woods. D. D
Rev. Daniel "Waldo 61
1773. Alexander Gillet Rev. Frederick Marsh 68
1773. David Osgood, D. D Miss Lucy Osgood
John Pierce, D. D
Convers Francis. D. D i;j2
1774. Samuel Spring. D.D Leonard "Woods, D. D "85
1774. John Smith. D.D. (of Dart. College). Roswell Shurtliff, D.D 90
1774. Matthias Burnet, D. D Professor Stuart 92
1774. David Tappan. D. D Daniel Dana, D. D 97
1775. Elihu Thayer, D.D Jonatiian French, D D
Daniel Dana, D. D 104
1775. Joseph Bucknii'i'jtcr, D.D Mrs. Eliza Buckminster Lee
Daniel Dana, D. D 108
1775. David Parsons, D. D Samuel Osgood, D. D 120
1775. Ezra Sampson Professor Edward Robinson, D.D 122
1775. Eliphalet Pearson, LLD Daniel "Waldo
Abiel Abbot, D. D 126
1776. "William Robinson Noah Porter, D. D
Heman Humphrey, D. D
Rev. E. C. Jones 131
1776. Joseph Ecklev. D.D Charles Lowell, D.D 137
1777. Asa Burton, D.D David Thurston, D. D 140
1777. Daniel Chaplin, D. D John Todd, D. D 148
1777. Timothy Dwight, D.D Denison Olmsted, LLD
Nathaniel "W. Taylor, D.D
Hon. Roger Minot Sherman
Hon. John Cotton Smith 152
1778. Isaac Stockton Keith, D. D Rev. Edward Palmer 166
1770. Samuel "\7ood. D. D N. Bouton, D. D 1G9
1780. Jonathan Homer, D. D "U'illiam Jenks, D. D 173
1780. Lemuel Eaynes Timothy Mather Cooley, D.D 17fi
Vi CHRONOLOGICAL INDEX.
SUBJECTS. WRITERS. PAS>.
1781. William Givciiough Willium .J.iiks, D. D 187
1781. Samuel Nutt, D. D David N . Lord, Esii 190
1781. David Austin Xiciiulas Murray, D. D
Abel McEweu. D. D 195
1781. Reuben PuflFer, D. D Rev. William A. lluiiglitun
Jusoph Alien, D D 20(1
1782. Seth Paysou, D. D Isaac Robinson, D. D
Rev. Asa Rand 20'.!
1782. John Crane, D. D Joel llasves, D. D 211
1784. Joseph McKeen, D. D Jolin W. Ellingwood, D. D
Robert Rantoul, Esq 21o
1784. Samuel Austin, D. D Rev. Pay.son Williston
James Murdock, D. D
John Nelson, D. D 221
1784. Jeremiah Uallock Rev. Cyrus Yale 229
1784. Moses Cook Welch, D. D Samuel Nott, D. D
Rev. Eleazar AVilliams 234
1784. Abiel Holmes, D. D Rev. Payson Williston
AVilliam Jenks, D. D 240
1785. Jedediah Morse, D. D Rev. Payson Williston
Isaac Kurd, D. D
John Todd, D.D
S. F 1>. Morse, Esq 247
1785. Richard Salter Storrs Rev. Payson Williston
Rev. Daniel Waldo 257
1786. Jacob Catlin, D. D Jolm C. Brigham, D. D 2ti0
1786. Mase Shepard Ray Palmer, D.D 265
1787. Elijah Parish, D. D Leonard Witliington, D.D 268
1788. Abel Flint. D.D Rev. Daniel Waldo 278
1788. Jonathan Strong, D.D Rev. R. S. Storrs. D.D 275
1789. Walter Harris, D. D Z. S. Barslow, D. D 277
1789. Azel Backus, D.D Bennett Tyler. D. D
Luther F.Dimmick, D.D 281
1789. Chauncey Lee, D. D Leonard E. Latlirop, D. D 288
1789. Herman Daggett Rev. Timothy Stone 291
1790. Ethan Smith Abraham Burnham. D.D 296
1790. Alvan Hyde, D. D lleman Huniphrov. D.D
Mark Hopkins, D. D -300
1790. Nathaniel Howe Elam Smalley, D. D 807
1790. Moses llallock Tlieophilus Packard, D. D 310
1790. Asahel Hooker Iloman Hnmplirev. D. D 316
1791. John Elliott, -D. D E. T. Fitch, D. D 321
1791. Calvin Chapin, D. D Rev. Daniel Waldo
Joel llaucs. D. D 32S
1791. Giles Hooker Cowles, D. D Heman Humphrey, D. D 830
1792. Asahel Strong Norton, D.D Rev. A. D. Gridley 332
1793. William Jackson. D.D John Maltby , D. D 336
1793. Elijah Waterman Rev. Daniel Waldo 341
1793. Jonathan Fisher S. L Pomeroy. D. D 344
1794. Ebenezer Porter, D. D Ralph Emerson, D. D
Orvillo Dewey, D. D.. 351
1794. Rufus Anderson Rufus Anderson. D. D
Samuel Worcester, D.D 361
1794. Samuel Shepard, D.D Elisha Yale, D. D. 3t;4
1794. John Fiske, D. D Rev. James T. Hydt- 367
1795. Daniel Dow, D.D Rev. William A. Earned 369
1795. Abijah Wines Rev. Kiah Bayley 373
1795. Eliphalet Gillet, D. D Benjamin Tappan, D.D 377
1795. Jesse Appleton, D.D Professor A. S. Packard
Rev. Jotham Sewall 3S0
1796. John Smith, D.D. (of Bangor Semi-
nary) S. L. Pomeroy, D. D 389
1796. Zephaniah Swift Moore. D.D Emerson Davis, D. D
Ebenezer Emmons. M. D
Hon. Emery Washburn 392
1796. Samuel Worcester, D. D Brown Emerson, D. D
Samuel M. Worcester, D. D 308
1797. Theophilus Packard. D. D Thomas Sn-ll, D. D
Thomas Shei)ard, D. D 4ua
CHRONOLOGICAL INDEX. vii
SUBJECTS. WRITERS. PAGE.
1797. Asa McFarland, D. D Nathaniel Bouton, D. D 412
1797. Joseph McKean, D. D N. L. Frothingham, D. D 414
1798. Jedediah Bushuell Thomas A. Merrill, D. D
Seth Willistoii, D. D
E. C. Wines, D. D 422
1798. JothamSewall George Shepard, D. D 430
1798. John Snelliug Popkin, D. D Professor C. C. Felton 434
1798. Leonard Woods, D. D Edward A. Lawrence. D. D 438
1798. John Hubbard Church, D. D Leonard Woods, D. D
Nathan Lord, D. D 445
1798. Timothy Alden Jonathan French, D. D
A. P. Peabody, U. D 449
1799. Leonard Worcester Worthington Smith, D. D
Hon. J. F. Redfield 45-5
1800. Calvin Park, D. D Jacob Ide, D. D 46C
1801. Isaac Robinson, D. D John M. Whiton, D. D 463
1802. Joshua Bates, D. D Hon. Lemuel Shaw
Edwin Hall, D. D
Hon. William L. Marcy. 465
1802. Caleb Jewett Tenney, D. D Bennett Tyler, D. D 472
1804. Moses Stuart Calvin E. Stowe, D.D 475
1805. Thomas Abbot Merrill, D. D Benjamin Labaree, D.D 481
1805. Roswell Randall Swan David D. Field, D.D
Hon. Clark Bissell 485
1805. Aaron Dutton Leonard Bacon. D. D 489
1806. John Codman, D.D R. S. Storrs, D.J)
Robert Burns, D. D 492
1806. Joshua Huntington Rev. Daniel Huntington 501
1807. Edward Payson, D.D Absalom Peters, D. D
Jonathan Cogswell, D. D 503
1807. Abraham Burnham, D. D Daniel J. Noyes, D. D 512
1808. Francis Brown, D.D Charles B. Haddock, D. D
Hon. Rufus Choate 516
1809. Luther Hart Laurens P. Hickok, D.D 523
1809. Daniel Haskell Rev. Samuel Merwin
John Hough, D. D
Samuel H. Cox, D. D 526
1809. Gordon Hall Rev. Horatio Bardwell
Ebenezer Porter, D. D 531
1810. Samuel Newell Rev. Samuel Nott 538
1811. Asahel Nettleton, D. D Edward Beecher, D.D 542
1811. Harvey Loomis George E. Adams, D. D 555
1812. John R.Crane, D.D David Smith, D. D 562
1812. Samuel John Mills, Jr Ebenezer Burgess, D. D 566
1812. Justin Edwards, D. D Rev. Professor Warner
Amos Blanchard, D. D 572
1812. Gamaliel Smith Olds Chester Dewey, D. D 6^ ';
1812. John Brown, D.D Israel W. Putnam, D. D
Heman Humjjhrcy, D. D 589
1812. Matthew Rice Dutton Hon. Henry Dutton 592
1812. James Richards Daniel Poor, D.D 596
1813. Alfred Mitchell A. T. Chester, D. D
Mrs. L. H. Sigourney 601
1813. William Cogswell, D. D Samuel G. Brown, D. D 605
1814. Thomas Hopkins Gallaudet, LL. D. . Rev. Horace Hooker 609
1814. Cyrus Yale Rev. Joseph Eldridge 615
1814. Daniel Poor, D. D Nathan Lord, D. D 617
1815. Pliny Fisk Alvan Bond, D.D
Jonas King, D. D 622
1816. Sereno Edwards Dwight, D. D William T. Dwight, D.D 629
1816. Elias Cornelius, D. D Edward A7. Hooker, D.D 633
1817. Levi Parsons George A. Calhoun, D.D 644
1817. Orin Fowler Thomas Shepard, D.D 648
1818. Carlos Wilcox Joel Hawes, D. D.. 6-52
1818. Samuel Green R. S. Storrs, D. D 658
1818. Artemas Boies Rev. Joseph Ilurlbut 664
1819. Louis Dwight Rev. A. L. Stone
N. P. Willis, Esq 669
1819. Austin Dickinson Professor W. C. Fowler 674
yiii CHRONOLOGICAL INDEX.
SUBJECTS. WRITERS. PASS.
1820. Daniel Temple Rev. William Goodell 677
1820. Benjamin Blydenburg Wisner, D. D.Francis Wayland, D. D
Rufus Anderson, D. D 682
1822. William Richards Gerard Hallock, Esq 688
1822. James Marsh, D. D Joseph Torrey , D. D
John Wheeler, D. D 692
1823. Chester Isham Leonard Bacon, D. D 704
1823. Nathan W. Fiske Edward Hitchcock, D. D
Rev. A. A. Wood 709
1828. Samuel Horatio Stearns Jonathan Clement, D. D 718
1828. Oliver Alden Taylor E. A. Park, D. D 725
1830. William Matticks Rogers Rev. George Richards
W. A. Stearns, D. D 730
1831. Bela Bates Edwards, D. D George B. Cheever, D.D
Horatio B. Hackett, D.D 735
1831. David Peabody S. G. Brown, D. D
John Nelson, D.D 744
1832. Samuel Munson and Henry Lyman. Rev. Josiah Fisher 747
1840. William Bradford Homer J. B. Condit, D. D
F.D.Huntington, D.D 753
1841. John King Lord S. G. Brown, D. D 761
TEINITARIAN
CONGREGATIONAL.
VOL. II.
I
NATHAN PERKINS, D. D *
1771—1838.
Nathan Perkins was a son of Matthew and Hannah Perkins, and was
born in Lisbon, (then a part of Norwich,) Conn., on the 12th of Ma3?,1748.
His father was an extensive landholder, and the family moved in the more
respectable walks of society. Nathan was early placed under the instruc-
tion of Dr. Lathrop of Norwich, by whom he was fitted for College. When
he was not far from eighteen years of age, he entered the College of New
Jersey, and was graduated in the year 1770, under the Presidency of Dr.
Witherspoon.
Of the state of his mind in regard to religious things during his earliest
years, nothing is now known ; but, in the latter part of his College life, his
mind was greatly wrought upon through the joint ministrations of With-
erspoon, Whitefield, and William Tenneut. So extraordinary were his con-
victions and conflicts during three months, from April to July, (1770,) that
his bodily health was materially affected, — insomuch that he was obliged to
avail himself of the assistance of his classmates, in walking from one apart-
ment of the College to another. At length his mind was suddenly relieved
of its burden, and filled with unspeakable joy. From this time, he showed
himself an active, decided and earnest Christian.
Shortly after leaving College, he commenced the study of Divinity under
the direction of the Kev. Dr. Lord of Norwich, and remained with him till
he was licensed to preach, by the New London Association, sometime in
the course of the next year. After his licensure, he was employed to
preach for a while at Wrentham, Mass., and had an opportunity to settle
there, but declined it. Thence he went to West Hartford to supply the
church which had been vacated more than two years before, by the death of
the Rev, Nathaniel Hooker. t The people, meanwhile, had become greatly
divided, in consequence of having employed a number of candidates. He
commenced preaching to them on the first Sabbath in January, 1772 ; and
so far succeeded in harmonizing their views and feelings, that, in due time,
they gave him a call, and he was ordained as their pastor, on the 14th of
October following. Here he continued to labour with great diligence and
fidelity, during the long period of sixty-six years.
*MS. from the Rev. Dr. Brace. — Puritan Recorder for 1856.
t Nathaniel Hooker, the son of Nathaniel and Eunice (Talcott) Hooker, was bom at
Hartford, Dec. 15, 1737; was graduated at Yale College in 1755; was ordained pastor of the
Fourth church in Hartford, (now West Hartford,) in December, 1767, and died June 9, 1770,
in the thirty-third year of his age. He published a Sermon entitled " The invalid instructed,"
1703; and after his death six sermons were published from his MSS., 1771.
2 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
In 1801, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by
the College at which he was graduated.
In the course of his ministry, Dr. Perkins preached ten thousand ser-
mons, attended more than a Imndred ecclesiastical councils, assisted more
than a hundred and lifty young men in their preparation for College, and
had under his care, at tiitierent times, more than thirty theological students.
He was one of the original founders and most active patrons, of the Con-
necticut Missionary Society ; and was a liberal contributor to the Connecti-
cut Evangelical Magazine.
In October, lS-2'2, he preached his Half-century sermon, which was pub-
lished. In it he gives an outline of the history of the church and parish of
which he had the pastoral charge, and especially of his own ministry. He
states that, at that time, there had been six extensive revivals of religion in
connection with his labours, and the whole number added to the church
during his ministry had been six hundred.
On the I'ith of June, 1833, the Rev. Caleb S. Henry was installed as
his colleague in the pastoral office. Mr. Henry resigned his charge on the
'25th of 31arch, 1835 ; after which. Dr. Perkins remained sole pastor until
two months before his death, when Mr. E, W. Andrews became associated
with him in the pastorate. He continued to preach, as occasion required,
not only at home, but in the neighbouring parishes, almost till the close of
life.
On Sabbath morning, January 14, 1838, as he was preparing for
public worship, he was struck with paralysis, and rendered at once both
speechless and helpless, though his mind still remained clear. Two days
after, the Rev. Dr. Brace of Newington, who had been his theological
pupil, and for many years his intimate friend, visited him for the last time.
As he spoke to the venerable man of the glorious future, and expressed to
him his belief that he had reached the gate of Heaven, the Doctor actually
shook with emotion, and he pressed his hand hard and long, as a token of
assent to what he had said. He continued until the evening of the 18th,
and then gently passed into the eternal world, being within about four
months of ninety years of age. His funeral sermon was, by his own
request, preached by Dr. Brace,
In 1774, ho was married to Catharine, daughter of the Rev. Timothy
Pitkin of Farmington, who was spared to him, during a period of sixty-
three years. They had six sons and three daughters. Nathan, the eldest
son, was graduated at Yale College in 1795, He studied Law in Hartford,
but never entered the profession. He officiated, for several years, as a
magistrate for the county of Hartford, and at the same time carried on a
farm in his native town. Having experienced a decided change in his
religious feelings during a revival in the year 1807, he studied Theology
under the direction of his father, and was licensed to preach in the spring
of 1810, when he was in his thirty-fourth year. Shortly after, he received
a call from the Second church and parish in Amherst, Mass., and on the
10th of October following, was ordained as their pastor. Here he contin-
ued until his death, which took place on the 28th of March, 1842. He died
in the sixty-sixth year of his age, and the thirty-second of his ministry.
The Rev. Dr. Humphrey, then President of Amherst College, preached his
funeral sermon. In it he represents him as "a man of highly respectable
talents, good common sense, and uncommon prudence;" as "kind, affec-
NATHAN PERKINS. 3
tionate, and cheerful in his social and domestic relations;" as "a solemn,
persuasive, and affectionate preacher;" as "an excellent pastor;" as
" instant in season and out of season in times of revival ;" as " deeply
interested in the cause of popular education " as well as " in all the benev-
olent enterprises of the day," and as "a pattern of punctuality in all his
engagements."
In 1795, Dr. Perkins published an octavo volume, entitled "Twenty-
four discourses on some of the important and interesting truths, duties, and
institutions of the Gospel, and the general excellency of the Christian
religion ; calculated for the people of God of every communion, particularly
for the benefit of pious families, and the instruction of all, in the things
which concern their salvation." Besides this, he published three Sermons
in the American Preacher, Vol. III. and IV., 1791 and 1793 ; four Let-
ters, showing the history and .origin of the Anabaptists, 1793 ; a Discourse
at the ordination of Calvin (Jhapin, 1794; two Discourses on the grounds
of the Christian hope, 1800; a Sermon at the ordination of Oliver Wetmore,
1807 ; a Sermon at the General Election, 1808; a Sermon at the ordination
of Elihu Mason,* 1810; a Sermon at the interment of the Rev. Timothy
Pitkin, 1812 ; a Sermon on the State Fast, 1812 ; a Sermon at the inter-
ment of the Rev. Nathan Strong, D. D., 1816; a Half-century Sermon,
1822.
FROM THE REY. DANIEL WALDO.
Geddes, August 25, 1851.
Dear Sir : You wish me to tell you something about tiie dead before I become
one of their number. Dr. Perkins, about whom you inquire, was my intimate
friend, from the time of my first entering the ministr}', till the close of his life.
We were born within a mile of each other, but he was many years my senior, and
I had no personal knowledge of him until after I M"as licensed to preach, when, — I
think in the year 1790, — I resided about two months in his famUy. I was there,
by invitation, as a guest, and though I did not profess to be exactly a theological
student, I nevertheless availed myself, to a considerable extent, of the benefit of
his instruction.
Dr. Perkins, in person, was rather short, and thick set, and had a countenance
and manner expressive of dignitj^ and self-respect. Perhaps it would be fair to
say of him that, in his ordinary intercourse, he was somewhat stately, though not
in any such sense or degree as to be inconsistent with all due urbanity. He
inherited a very considerable estate, and, until misfortunes overtook him in the
latter part of his life, may be said to have been a rich minister; and though this
circumstance never rendered him supercilious, it is not improbable that it gave
him more of an independent air than he would otherwise have possessed.
Dr. Perkins would be found in any society an intelligent and agreeable com-
panion. He was always ready to converse on any subject, and was particidarly
•Elihu Mason was bom at West Springfield, Mass., January 14, 1782; was graduated
at Dartmouth College in 1808; studied Theology chiefly under the Eev. Dr. Perkins of West
Hartford; was ordained pastor of the church (then Congregational, but afterwards Presby-
terian) in Herkimer village, N. Y. ; resigned his charge after three years, and in March,
1814, was installed pastor of the church in Barkhamsted, Conn.; remained there two years,
and then engaged in missionary service in the Western part of the State of New York ; was
installed in 1829, pastor of a Congregational church near Le Roy, N. Y., where, after labouring
four years, he was obliged, on account of the state of his health, to retire from the active duties
of the ministry. During many of the latter years of his life he was afflicted by the disease called
Corea, or St. Vitus" dance, by which he was ultimately disabled for all exertion, and under
which he gradually sunk to his grave. He died on the 2d of April, 1840, in the sixty-eighth
year of his age. He had the reputation of being an eminently godly man, and a laborious and
useful minister
4 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
at home on subjects connected with Theology. In his theological views he was
substantially' of the school of the first President Edwards, and he looked upon
Arminianism, and all kindred speculations, with strong disapprobation. He
wrote a great many sermons, and wrote them with great care. They were gen-
erally very much of, a doctrinal cast, though he was accustomed to exhibit doc-
trine in its practical bearings. His mind had acquired, in rather an unusual
degree, a habit of expanding any subject tliat was presented to it, though not in
any such way as to diminish materially the effect of his discourses. It was with
reference to this trait of mind that his neighbour, Dr. Strong, when Dr. Perkins
expressed a wish that .some hint that had been given by some member of the
.\ssociation to which he belonged, might be spread out on paper, — replied in his
boundless facetiousness, — " I should like to see it spread out too; and I nominate
[brother Perkins to do it."
Dr. Perkins was eminently devoted to the interests of his flock. He visited
them frequentl}' and familiarl)'', and was regarded by them all as their common
friend, though his relations to them were never otherwise than highly dignified.
He was instant in season and out of season, and seemed always to be watching
for opportunities of doing good.
Among the most prominent attributes of his character were judiciousness,
sobriety, equanimity, patience, and perseverance. He had little of the imagina-
tive, and rarely indulged in sallies of wit. But he was instructive both in his
preaching and conversation, was an eminently serious and devout man, and was
generally much respected by his brethren in the ministry. His conversation was
rich in interesting anecdotes in respect to the past, and there were not a few of
the distinguished men of the country whom he ranked among his personal friends.
I am, sincerely, your friend,
DANIEL WALDO.
DAVID ELY, D. D.
1771—1816.
FROM THE REV. THOMAS F. DAVIES.
New Haven, December 20, 1849.
Rev. and dear Sir : Your request that I should give you a sketch of the
life and character of the Rev. Dr. Ely of Huntington, is like requiring a
portrait from a man, who had not, for more than thirty years, beheld the
face of which he is to present the similitude. While, however, memory
])erforms its office, I shall not forget the tall and venerable form of him into
whose presence I was ushered, about forty-three years since. I was a lad
of thirteen years ; and when my father introduced me as one whom he
wished to leave with him as a pupil, Dr. Ely placed his hand upon my
head, and with kind and searching looks, — moving me about withal in the
intervals of his earnest and rapid elocution, — commenced an acquaintance
which is among the pleasing remembrances of my life. For poi'tions of three
successive years, I was an inmate of his family, and left it for College in
1809. In 1816, I received a call to succeed him in the pastoral office.
Dr. Ely was born of respectable parents at Lyme, Conn., July 7, (0. S.)
1749, and was irraduated at Yale College in 1769. He was licensed to
DAVID ELY. 5
preach the Grospol in October, 1771, and on the 27th of October, 1773, he
was ordained colleague pastor with the Rev. Jedediah Mills of the church
in Huntington, Conn. I may mention, in passing, that Mr. Mills was
among the most zealous and active of those who laboured in the great revival
of 1740 and some succeeding years. It was to him that David Brainerd
resorted to pursue his studies, after being expelled from Yaje College. In
1817, I attended the funeral of an aged lady of Huntington, who informed
me that, when young, she was accustomed to attend religious meetings in
the parish, conducted by David Brainerd. ^
Settled in the ministry just before the war of the Revolution, Dr. Ely parti-
cipated in the anxieties and sacrifices of that momentous period. I infer
this from the fact that, in the town of his residence, and in those adjacent,
there were many adherents of the British Crown ; and from a threat which
one of the most prominent of those men made to him. It was to the effect
that, when the rebellion was put down, the Doctor should be hung on an
oak tree which long flourished on the public square, and near the meeting
house in which he preached. As a pastor, he was regular and faithful in
his ministrations and was regarded by his people with a veneration and love,
which could have resulted only from their long experience of his tender and
faithful regard of their best interests. So late as the summer of 1815, in
addition to the services of the Sabbath, he had a week-day lecture, and
rejoiced from that time in a revival of religion among his people. He died
on the 16th of February, 1816, in the seventy-seventh year of his age and
the forty-third of his ministry, having preached until the third Sabbath
before his death, and leaving the church and society with which he had
been so long connected in a state of temporal and spiritual prosperity. A
sermon was preached at his funeral, by the Rev. Elijah Waterman, who
justly observed that, "in his public performances, Dr. Ely made no. preten-
sions to refined elocution, or the ornaments of polished style, — but he aimed
at usefulness; and, possessing a happy talent of communicating the precious
truths of the Bible, in a plain and afi"ectionate manner, and by very apt
allusions, he would more strongly impress those truths on the memory than
all the studied eloquence of language could have done. In prayer, he had
a fervency, an appropriateness of expression, and such a facility of reference
to the language and allusions of Scripture, adapted to the immediate occa-
sion, as have been equalled by few and excelled by none." All who
remember Dr. Ely will feel the force of these remarks ; and it will be seen
in the concluding part of this letter, that they are strongly confirmed by the
testimony of President Dwight. The late Professor Dutton of Yale College,
who was for a number of years pastor of the Congregational church in
Stratford, informed me that, on a certain occasion, he requested Dr. Ely's
assistance in his ministrations to one of his fiock visited with fatal illness ;
and that the copiousness and appropriateness with which the Doctor adduced
the truths and language of the Scriptures excited his own admiration, and
imparted comfort to the man trembling on the verge of life. I presume
that Dr. Ely was never at a loss for an expression or illustration in the
social circle or in the pulpit ; and in both, the eye and gesture would give
point and force to his language. None went to sleep under his ministra-
tions. When approached by a man for the purpose of stating his objec-
tions against the doctrine of Election, "Sir," said the Doctor, "do you
suppose any will go to Heaven whom the Lord does not choose to have
g TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
there?" "By no means." The Doctor intimated that such an admission
was satisfactory.
Dr. Ely was omineutly a prudent man. In a time of political excite-
ment, it was reported by persons hostile to him that he had preached on
political subjects in a neighbouring parish. It was thought proper to trace
the report to its source. The neighbouring parish was visited, and the
inquiry made, "Did Dr. Ely preach politics when here?" "Yes."
"What did he say?" '-Well Sir, if he did not preach politics he prayed
politics." "What did he say?" "Say? he said — though hand join in
hand, yet the wicked shall not go unpunished." Any account of Dr. Ely,
in which no mention should be made of his usefulness as a counsellor of his
brethren, and as a member of Ecclesiastical Councils, would be very imper-
fect. In these respects, he was highly appreciated through a wide extent
of country.
In the course of his ministry, he prepared about a hundred pupils for
Yale College, and among these I presume there was no one who did not
feel that his teacher had been his friend, and faithfully endeavoured to pro-
mote his best interests. In 1778, he was chosen a member of the Corpo-
ration of Yale College, and remained such to the end of life. He was, for
a long time, the Secretary of that Board, and also one of the Prudential
Committee, and received in 1808 from the College in which he was edu-
cated, and whose interests he had, during many years, greatly promoted,
the degree of Doctor of Divinity.
We should expect that the end of such a man would be peace. To one
of his sons who inciuirod of his dying father, the state of his mind, " My
son," was the characteristic answer, "my trust is in the Bock of Ages."
To a brother in the ministry, with an expressive look and clasping hand, he
said, " My brother, may the good will of Him who dwelt in the bush be
ever with you." In a letter to one of the sons. President Dwight said, " In
your excellent father, I lose one of my best friends ; the College, one of its
best patrons ; and the Church, one of its best ministers." His memory is
cherished in many circles, and is transmitted from parents to childi*en. His
name is mentioned with reverence by many in the various walks of life, who,
by his instructions and counsels, were formed for usefulness ; for he was a
man in whom dignity and kindness were in a remarkable degree combined,
and who left in every heart brought into companionship with his own, an
undying and grateful remembrance of his worth.
It is not witliout emotion that I have written this brief sketch of a beloved
instructor ; and, while I cast this humble flowret on his grave, I would raise
as a monument to his memory the memorial prepared by his illustrious class-
mate, the late President Dwight ; pausing only to say that in the life of
that distinguished man, it is recorded that in his own last illness, he adverted
to the death of his friend, and spoke of him as one of the lights of his class
which had been extinguished.
"The mind of Dr. Ely was distinguished by peculiar characteristics. His
heart was eminently warm and tender ; his imagination active and vivid ; his
intellect sound and vigorous, but employed with its whole strength on the
practical concerns of mankind. In his view, the end of all human attain-
ments was action ; the action which is directed to the promotion of real good.
To this he consecrated alike his powers and his efforts ; and in the skill by
which it is successfully accomplished, few men are happier proficients. His
DAVID ELY. 7
temper was naturally ardent, but softened by Christianity, as was that of
Paul, into ardent affection and tenderness. As a preacher, he always
appeared in his public ministrations in a manner which was entirely his own.
Equally peculiar to himself were his public prayers, and in my own view,
they were peculiarly excellent." Panoplist, vol. xii. p, 488.
Dr. Ely was married to Hepsa, daughter of Elisha Mills of Huntington,
and grand-daughter of his venerable predecessor and colleague. They had
five children, — three sons and two daughters. All the sons were graduated
at Yale College. Mrs. Ely died on the 26th of September, 1803, aged
forty-nine vears.
Affectionately yours,
THOMAS F. DAVIES.
DAVID McCLURE, D. D *
1771—1820.
David McClure was the son of John and Rachel McClure, and was
born at Newport, R. I., November 18, 1748. The stated residence of his
parents was in Boston, but they happened to be residing temporarily at
Newport, at the time of his birth. His father carried on a small trade at
sea, and kept a retail grocery. He was a deacon in the church, and both
he and his wife were considered as eminently pious. They were natives of
the North of Ireland, their ancestors having been Scottish Highlanders, who
settled near Londonderry and Newry, early in the seventeenth century.
The mother of David McClure was the daugliter of William McClintock,
and sister of the Rev. Dr. Samuel McClintock, of Greenland, N. H.
The youthful days of the subject of this sketch were spent in Boston,
chiefly in the school of the famous " Master Lovell ;" though he was, for
some time, occupied as a clerk in a store. At the age of fifteen, he went, at
the instance of the Rev. John Moorhead, to Lebanon, Conn., where he
became a member of Dr. Wheelock's school, with a view to engage as a
missionary among the Indians. He was, about that time, received to the
communion of the church.
He was admitted to the Freshman class in Yale College, in 1765, and was
graduated in 1769. Shortly after, he took charge of Moor's school at
Lebanon, where he continued till it was removed to Hanover, N. H., in
1770. He removed with the school, and still continued his connection with
it as teacher, while, at the same time, he filled the office of Tutor in the
new College. His license to preach he received from Dr. Wheelock alone,
there being, at that time, no Presbytery or Association in that region. As
long as he remained at Hanover, he preached, most of the time, in the new
settlements in the immediate neighbourhood.
On the 20th of May, 1772, he and Levi Frisbie were ordained at Dartmouth
College, with a view to a mission to the Delaware Indians, near Pitts-
burgh, Penn. The ordination sermon was preached by President Wheelock.
• MS. from the Rev. A. W. McClure, D. D.
g TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
This mission, which was sustained by the Society in Scotland for propaga-
ting the Gospel, was speedily broken up, in consequence of troubles growing
out of the hostile relations between the Colonies and the mother country.
The missionaries spent most of their time preaching in the new settlements
in "Western Pennsylvania ; and, in the summer of 1773, returned, after an
absence of sixteen months.
Mr. McClure spent the greater part of the nest three years in preaching
to vacant congregations in Boston and Portsmouth. He received two invi-
tations to settle from the church in Portsmouth, made vacant by the removal
of Dr. Langdon to the Presidency of Harvard College, but declined botli.
On the IBth of November, 1776, he was installed pastor of the church at
North Hampton, N. H., the sermon on the occasion being preached by the
Rev. Josiah Stearns of Epping.
In 1778, he was appointed a Trustee of Dartmouth College, and held the
office twenty-three years. In 1800, he received the degree of Doctor of
Divinity from the same institution.
Dr. McClure was dismissed from North Hampton, at his own request,
August 30, 1785. About this time, he received a call from Hebron, Conn.,
which he declined. On the 11th of June, 1786, he was installed pastor of
the church in East Windsor, (now South Windsor,) Conn. : the installation
sermon was preached by the llev. Dr. Williams of East Hartford.
In 1798, Dr. McClure began to experience great inconvenience from the
failure of his voice, and, for many years, he preached but little, and with
great difficulty. After he became quite disabled for preaching, he occupied
himself in the business of instruction, and especially in preparing youth for
College. Mr. (now the Eev. Dr.) Thomas Robbins was settled as his col-
league, in March, 1809.
Dr. McClure died at East Windsor, June 25, 1820, in the seventy-second
year of his age, having been a pastor of that church thirty-four years. The
disease of which he died was dropsy in the chest, which confined him to his
chamber, and subjected him, much of the time, to intense suffering, for
about five months. His last days were marked by great peace.
In December, 1780, he was married to Hannah, youngest daughter of
the Rev. Benjamin Pomeroy, D. D., of Hebron, Conn. Her. mother was a
sister of the first President Wheelock. Mrs. McClure died in April, 1814,
aged sixty-two. In 1816, he was married to Mrs. Betsey Martin of Provi-
dence, R. I., who survived him a few years. He had five children, — all of
them daughters.
The following is a list of Dr. McClure's publications :— An Oration at the
opening of Exeter Phillips Academy, 1783. A Sermon on the death of the
Rev. Dr. Pomeroy, 1784. A Sermon at the ordination of Stanley Gris-
wold, 1790. A Sermon at the interment of the Rev. John Ellsworth,*
1791. A Sermon on the death of Simeon Birge, 1792. A Sermon on the
death of Deacon Amasa Loomis, 1793. A Sermon on the death of Judge
Erastus Wolcott, 1793. A Sermon at the installation of the Morning Star
Lodge, 1794. Sermons on the Moral Law: one volume, octavo, 1795.
• John Ellsworth was a son of Daniel and Mary (Mclnstrv) Ellsworth of Ellington; was
graduated at Yale College in 1785; was ordained at East Windsor in September, 17S'J, with a
view to a settlement over the Presbyterian church in Saba in the West Indies; laboured for a
short time among that people to great acceptance, but was obliged to give up his charge on
account of the failure of his health ; returned to his native country, and died at his father's
bouse in Ellington, November 22, 1791, aged twenty-nine.
DAVID McCLURE. ()
[Reprintecl, 1818.] A New Year's Sermon, 1799. An Oration en \";. ■
death of General Washington, 1800. A Sermon on the death of the llev.
Thomas Potwine,* 1802. A Sermon on the death of the Rev. Dr. Eliphakt
Williams, 1803. A Sermon on the death of Mrs. Abigail Potwine, 1804.
Memoirs of the Rev. Eleazer Wheelock, D. D., 1810. [Of this he was joint
author with the Rev. Dr. Parish.] In addition to the above, he furnished
several articles for the Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society,
and was a contributor to the Panoplist and the Connecticut Evangelical
Magazine.
FROM THE REV. THOMAS ROBBINS, D. D.
Hartford, iS'ovember 12, 1852.
My dear Sir: I had not much acquaintance with Dr. McClure until 1809, when
I became associated with him as pastor of the church in which he had, for some
years, exercised his ministry; but, from that time till his death, I knew him inti-
mately, and it devolved on me to preach his funeral sermon. I had a good oppor-
tunity of knowing him also from my long continued habit of intimacy with those
who had constituted his pastoral charge.
Dr. McClure, though rather small in person, was well formed, had an agreeable
countenance, and was altogether a good-looking man. His manners were uncom-
monly graceful and attractive, and indicated what was really the case, — that he
had been much in the world, and had been familiar with cultivated society. He
was amiable and obliging in his disposition, and always ready to confer a favour
when it was in his power. In short, he was a man little likely to give offence
and well fitted*to be popular in any community.
His preaching was characterized by neatness, perspicuity, and accuracy, rather
than by great force or point. He was a good scholar; and, though he made no
display of scholarship in his sermons, it was manifest to all competent judges who
heard or read them, that they were the productions of a well disciplined and well
furnished mind. His voice was smooth and pleasant, but not very p«werful; and
his general manner, though on the whole agreeable, was perhaps somewhat lacking
in energy. The subjects of his discourses were chiefl}^ moral and practical; and,
though a Calvinist, he probably preached less upon the peculiarities of the Cal-
vinistic system than most of his contemporaries of the same school. As a pastor*.
he was discreet and affectionate, but had less intercourse with his people in the
way of visiting than they desired. He was, however, esteemed for many excellent
qualities, and there are some I doubt not stUl living, who hold him in grateful
remembrance.
I am, my dear Sir, truly vours,
"THOMAS ROBBINS.
• Thomas Potwine, the son of John Potwine, was a native of Boston ; was graduated at
Yale College in 1751; was ordained minister of the North church in East Windsor, Conn., May
1, 1754; and died in November, 1802.
Vol. it.
10 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
JOSEPH LYMAN, D. D.*
1771—1828.
Joseph Lyman, son of Jonathan and Bethiali Ljman, was born in
Lebanon, Conn., April 14, 1749. Of his earliest years it is believed no
record now remains. He was graduated at Yale College with high honour
iu 17(37, and served as a Tutor there in 1770-71. On the fourth of March,
1772, when he was less than twenty-three years of age, he was ordained
pastor of the Congregational cliurch in Hatfield, Mass. In October of the
tame year, he was married to Hannah Huntington of his native place,
with whom he continued to live in great happiness for more than fifty-five
years, — until his death terminated the relation. He had seven children,
only two of whom survived him. One of his sons, Jonathan Huntington,
was graduated at Yale College in 1802, and was a distinguished lawyer in
Northampton, where he died in 1825.
The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by Williams
College in 1801.
Dr. Lyman continued sole pastor of the church at Hatfield until towards
the close of the year 1826, when, on account of his advanced age and
increasing infirmities, his congregation provided him with a colleague.
Fortunately, the individual possessed those qualities which at once disposed
and enabled hiiu to render himself every way acceptable tb his venerable
associate; and, during the residue of Dr. Lyman's days, they lived together
in the utmost harmony, mutually communicating and receiving good.
Nearly two years before his death he was assailed by one of the most
loathsome and painful of the whole tribe of diseases that " flesh is heir to ;"
but, during the whole time, he behaved with a calm dignity, an humble
resignation, worthy of his character as a man, a Christian, and a minister,
lie died on the 27th of March, 1828. His funeral sermon was preached by
tlie Rev. Dr. Woodbridge of Hadley from 1 Peter I., 24, 25. It was pub-
lished.
Dr. Lyman was one of the earliest friends and patrons of the Hampshire
Missionary Society, and in 1812 was chosen its President, — the duties of
which oflice he discharged with great wisdom, fidelity, and success. He was
also, from the beginning, a member of the American Board of Commis-
sioners for Foreign Missions; in 1819, he was chosen its Vice President;
and in 1823, its President; and iu this latter office he continued till 1826,
when his impaired health obliged him to cast ofi", as far as he could, all
public responsibilities. Several other important institutions acknowledged
him as a faithful friend and an efficient benefactor.
The following i? a list (if Dr. Lyman's acknowledged publications:—-
Thanksgiving Sermon, 1774. Massachusetts Election Sermon, 1787. A
Sermon at the ordination of William Graves,! 1791. A Sermon at the
funeral of the Rev. John Hubbard,! 1794. A Sermon before an Ecclesi-
* ■\Voodbridge"s Tun. Serin. — Amer. Quart. Reg., XII.
t William Graves was grailuatcd at Yale College in 1785; was ordained at North Wood-
stock, Conn., August 31, 1791; and diei in 1813.
j John Hubbard was born at Hatfield, Mass., November 5, 1720; was graduated at Yale
College in 1747; was ordained pastor of the church at Northfield, May 30, 1750; and died
November 28, 1794.
JOSEPH LYM AX, 2|
astical Convention for forming a Missionary Society, 1801. A Sermon on the
day preceding the choice of Electors in Massachusetts, 1804. A Sermon
before the Convention of the Massachusetts clergy, 1806. A Sermon at
the installation of the Rev. Thomas H. Wood,* 1806. A Sermon at the
opening of Hatfield bridge, 1807. A Sermon at the installation of the
Kev. Dan Huntington, 1809. A Sermon delivered at Charlestown, 1811.
Two Sermons occasioned by the total rout and overthrow of the French
armies, 1813. A Sermon at the interment of Ruggles Woodbridge, 1819.
A Sermon before the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Mis-
sions, 1819. A Sermon at the interment of the Hon. Caleb Strong, 1819.
A Sermon before the ministers of the Central Association of Hampshire
county, 1821.
FROM THE REV. JOHN WOODBRIDGE, D. D.
Hadley, Mass., April 4, 1848.
Dear Sir : In compliance with your request, I cheerfully furnish you with such
statements as my memory supplies, in respect to my former neighbour and vene-
rable associate in the ministry, the Rev. Dr. Lyman.
In his person he was peculiarly dignified; and in his manners, though far from
studied softness, he was paternal, afiectionate, and conciliatory. His countenance,
when he was engaged in animated conversation, seemed illuminated; and his eye,
which was perhaps his most remarkable feature, beamed with intelligence and
feeling. It was the index of his understanding and heart. His mind was formed
after no ordinary model. His ]Maker had originally impressed upon it the stamp
of greatness. The idea of force was that which first seized you, as you contem-
plated his inteUectual powers, and especially as you witnessed their development
in the ardour of discussion. With this remarkable ability to awe and control, he
united the utmost kindness of disposition. He was as judicious as he was decided.
He took comprehensive views of men and things; and often arrived at his happiest
conclusions by such rapid steps that his discernment seemed like intuition. He
was perhaps equally familiar with practical details and abstract principles. On
ecclesiastical questions it is safe to say that he scarcely had a superior.
When these circumstances are considered, the extent of his influence, wherever
he was known, is no matter of surprise. It was impossible to be associated with
him, without feeling the might of his mind. If he ever erred in judgment, it was
an error for which all who understood his motives, and did not feel themselves
particularly wounded by his decisions, would be disposed to apologize. I have
not known a man who appeared to me fitted to exert a greater influence in the circle
of his intimate associates.
To this his disposition contributed quite as much as the energy of his mind.
He abhorred all meanness in action, in word, and in thought. He was warm and
faithful in his friendships, and untiring in his ofBces of kindness towards those
who sought his counsel and aid. As for two-sidedness, under any pretence, it was
utterly foreign from his character. His manly spirit could not stoop to it; his
taste loathed it; and all his sympathies were enlisted with the upright, the noble,
the disinterested. He would have made the worst politician in the world of
the Machiavelian school; yet he was generally cautious in forming his opinions,
and sufficiently slow in committing himself to a cause which he did not well
understand.
lie was a tried friend of good ministers. He rejoiced in their success; he sup-
ported and comforted them in their troubles; he w^as not ready to take up an evil
* Thomas Hough Wood was born in Norwich, Conn., in 1773; was graduated at ■Williams
College in 1799; was ordained as an Evangelist, May 2, 1804; was installed at Halifax, Vt.,
September 17, 1806; and died in 1842, in the seventieth year of his age.
22 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
report against them; he would never seek his own popularity at the expense of
their reputation. In his intercourse with his younger brethren particularly, he
was most alFectionate and fiitherly ; and there are many still living, who are ready
to acknowledge their indebtedness to his invaluable counsels.
He disliked exceedingly obtrusiveness in the young; and, more than all, every
appearance of ostentation and egotism in the services of the sanctuary. His reli-
gious sentiments were the same which were embraced by our Puritan ancestors,
and have been recognised in the Confessions of Faith of most of the Protestant
Churches. As a Divine, he was able; and as a preacher, eminently instructive,
and edifying. Besides the advantages of a superior understanding, his attitude
was commanding; he had a clear and piercing voice, and an eye which kindled as he
spoke. He gave himself to the cause of missions with all his heart; a large por-
tion of his time for many years was gratuitously spent in its behalf; and the
various important offices he held in connection with it, indicate clearly the sense
which his brethren had of his commanding talents and his eminent disinterested-
ness.
From his aversion to every thing that looked like boasting of his religion, he
was more reserved than many of his friends could have wished, in disclosing to
others those moral exercises on which he grounded his hope of reconciliation to
God through the atonement. His error, if it was one, resulted from excessive
modesty and self-distrust. It was not because he deemed experimental religion
unimportant, nor because he was not comforted by the hope he cherished of his
personal piety, that he so generally avoided allusions, in conversation, to the state
of his heart, and his prospects for another world. In his early days, he had wit-
nessed the evils of extravagant zeal; and he did not wish to encounter them again
He might, perhaps, have been too apprehensive on this point. But does it there-
fore follow that he was not friendly to revivals of religion.'' Often has his heart
bounded, and his eye been suffused with tears, at intelligence of good to Zion.
His various trials he sustained with a resignation and firmness which all may
admire, but few would have equalled. In old age, and in death, he beautifully
exemplified the religion which he had preached; and he came to his grave like a
shock of corn fully ripe in its season.
As for myself, I may truly say that I loved and honoured him as a father, and
now that he is gone, his memory is embalmed in my gratitude and affection.
AVhat I have written will at least show you that I have not forgotten your
request, and that I approve of the design of your proposed work.
Affectionately your brother in the Gospel,
JOHN WOODBRIDGE.
FROM THE REV. JARED B. WATERBURT, D. D.
Boston, April IG, 1848.
Dear Brother: You request me to furnish you with some reminiscences of the
late Dr. Lyman of Hatfield. My connection with that venerable man as colleague
pastor, commenced, you may recollect, only eighteen months previous to his death.
This fact shows how exceedingly limited my means must be of rendering any thing
like a just tribute to one whose praise, for nearly half a century, was in all the
churches. Besides, I saw Dr. Lj-man, for the first time, when he had passed into a
state of bodily infirmity, which gave to him the aspect somewhat of a magnificent
ruin. You could see what he had been; the heavy column and the broad span of
the arch told, even in their dilapidation, the scale of grandeur on which the
whole structure had been reared. I do not, by this, mean to be understood as
affirming that his mind was evidently impaired; only, that by sympathy with the
' sinking body, it was somewhat obscured. Such in fact was the opinion often
expressed to me by those who had been on terms of intimacy with him for a score
of years. They all concurred in saying that, at the period alluded to, he was not
JOSEPH LYMAN. 13
the man he once was. Still to me he was even then a very uncommon man. The
Roman cast of his features, his expressive eye, his simplicity of language and
manner, struck me very forcibly on my first introduction to him ; and the opinion
which I then formed of his character, was confirmed by subsequent intercourse.
Dr. Lyman belonged to the order of what is sometimes called " Nature's Nobil-
ity." There was a stamp of dignity upon him discoverable at once; and which
was not, as in many instances, eftaced by more familiar contact. On the contrary,
the more clcsely he was scrutinized, the more admirable did he appear. But in
order to a just appreciation of the man, it required in the observer a proper con-
ception of what true greatness is. Many might pronounce a very ditterent judg-
ment from that which has been intimated. Indeed I am well aware that he has
been called severe, dogmatical, overbearing, even tyrannical. But it should be
remembered that, in the ordinary intercourse of life, there are many things to
provoke the censure of such a man. Vulgarity and self complacency would
sometimes obtrude themselves upon his notice; and meeting, as they invariably
did from him, a severe but merited rebuke, their exhibitors would very naturally
call in question his benevolence. He had a great abhorrence of hypocrisy in reli-
gion and of pretension in learning. The hypocrite and the pedant found but little
mercy at his hands. Any thing like rude familiarity also he would not tolerate.
Being a gentleman of the "old school," rendermg all due politeness to others,
according to their several characters, he demanded a like reciprocity of respect
from others towards himself. And others were ready in general to defer to his
superior merit, and to pay that homage to true greatness which discerning minds
instinctively feel. No intelligent, well bred man, I venture to say, could have
enjoj'ed even a casual acquaintance with him, without feeling and expressing an
involuntary respect.
A faithful analysis of Dr. Lyman's character would require a much more
extensive knowledge of the circumstances which tended to form it, than I have
the means of obtaining. That he acquired and wielded an immense influence in
the Congregational churches of Massachusetts you are well aware. There was
scarcely an important ecclesiastical council for years, where his services were not
considered indispensable. Generally he presided in such councils, and the quick
discernment of his penetrating mind contributed greatly to a successful result.
He seemed born to command. His very appearance, — being considerably above
the medium height, dignified in demeanour, with a bold set of features and a
speaking eye, together with a clear, penetrating voice, — gave the impression in
every assembly where he appeared, that no man, so well as himself,, could meet
the responsibilities of the presiding officer. He was accordingly almost always at
the helm, and, whether in calm or storm, he was equallv self-reliant and success-
fill.
Dr. Lyman's greatness must rest its claim, I think, mainly on his power of
governing and controlling other minds. He had the faculty of seeing at a glance
what was best to be done, and of doing it. He possessed both talent and tact.
By the one he was quick to discern, and by the other prompt to execute. He was
no theorist — with him all was practical. He possessed little of what is commonly
called genius; especially when the term is applied to the productions of fancy.
Hi.s mental characteristics were strong and bold, like the granite rock of his own
New England. Hence, in the pulpit, he was not perhaps so distinguished as
many of his contemporaries. Had he, however, bestowed less time on public
business, and spent more in the study, or had he felt the stimulus in his pulpit
efforts which some find in their peculiar situation, I cannot doubt that, with the
talents which he was known to possess, he might have become as distinguished in
the desk as he was in the council and in the debate.
What struck my mind most in him, was the condensed wisdom which such a
mind as his gathers up and stores away, from long and close observation of
14 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
human nature in all its aspects. I regard the personal intercourse which I
enjoyed with him, short as the period was, as on this account alone one of the
greatest privileges of my life, and the most useful to my official cliaracter. With
little or no experience myself, I was in constant contact with one whose life
embraced events the most interesting apd instructive. What he said seemed
to me almost oracular. I have felt the weight of his counsels ever since, and
more and more, as I have advanced in life. I wish I could recall many of his
pithy sayings, but they come only as the occasion demands them. Being absent
from my people on one occasion, I overstayed the appointed time, and on my
return made an apology from the pulpit, lie took an early opportunity soon
afterwards to remark in his pleasant way, — " Be careful how you make apologies
to your people." lie gave a reason or two which seemed forcible then, and more
so, from experience since.
On another occasion, when, in my youthful zeal, I had delivered a most scath-
ing sermon to professors of religion, holding up their inconsistencies to the repro-
bation, not only of good but bad men, he put in a word the next day which I
have never forgotten. After some commendatory remark by way of breaking
the force of the blow, he said, — " I have not been in the habit of holding forth
very severely against professors in the general congregation : not that they are
what they ought to be; but the wicked are glad to have them scourged, and are
vor\- apt to exult in their writhings under it. It has been my way to take the
mantle, as the sons of Noah did, on my shoulders, and walking backward, to
throw it over them." I felt the rebuke, and have ever since profited by it. Now,
it must not be thought from this, that Dr. Lyman was unfaithful in reproving the
sins of church members; but it was his opinion that a proper time and place
.should be chosen to administer it. Many lessons of a similar practical kind did
I receive, — given, as I know, in the kindest manner, and, as I believe, with the best
of motives.
Dr. Lyman came into public life amid the stirring events of the American
Revolution. As was common in that day among ministers of New England, he
took a very active part in politics, and was ardent in sustaining the cause of free-
dom. His political relations subsequently gave rise to a very unhappy state of
things in the parish, and old animosities continued to rankle even till the day of
liis death. When I came to share the parochial duties with him, he remarked
that too much zeal in politics had hindered his usefulness; " but you are to know
nothing of these difficulties," added he, — "you may profit by my experience;
attend to your spiritual duties, and let Caesar take care of his own affairs."
It was my privilege to administer the consolations of religion to my aged col-
league in his last illness, and to smooth for him, as I hope, the pillow of death.
His disorder, which was of a cancerous nature, was very painful, rendering it
difficult for him to eat or to speak, and invading the vital functions more and more,
until he expired. During his illness there was an heroic firmness, which seemed
to a casual observer to amount almost to stoicism. Not a murmur escaped his
lips. Not a groan was heard, however excruciating his sufferings. He enter-
tained his friends with the same primitive hospitality as usual, and presided, until
almost the last, at his own table, and led the devotions of his own family.
But the appointed boundary was at length reached, and the sure indications of
death began to gather around the sufferer. He said but little. That little, how-
ever, in his case, meant a great deal. Not a word was wasted ; for it was almost
impossible for him to utter a word. He .spoke of Christ as the only foundation.
'•It is a foundation," said I, "broad and deep." "Yes," he added, after a
desperate struggle, and with great emphasis, " and high enough too." BoLstered
upon his couch, he looked like a dying patriarch. The very silence that was
imposed upon him by his disorder, rendered the scene morally sublime. The
workings of the soul were to be understood through the countenance; and there
it was not difficult to trace holy submission and an all conquering faith.
JOSEPH LTMAX. 25
I wish I were able to render a more appropriate tribute to this great and good
man, who was emphatically a workman, — a master-builder; whose influence for
good is to be understood not by one generation, nor even from time's amplest
records, but in the more enduring influences of an interminable future.
Yours truly,
J. B. WATERBURY.
MANASSEH CUTLER, L. L. D.*
1771—1823.
Manasseh Cutler, the son of Hezekiah Cutler, was born at Killingly,
Conn., May 28, 1742. His father was a respectable farmer, and the son
spent his earliest years in labouring upon a farm, and thereby acquired a
skill in the use of many farming utensils, especially the sickle, which was
somewhat remarkable, and of which he often gave specimens in subsequent
life. Having discovered an early taste for literary and scientific pursuits,
he resolved on obtaining a liberal education ; and to this end all his energies
were directed. He fitted for College under the Rev. Aaron Brown, t the
minister of Killingly, and completed his course at Yale in 1765. As a
student he was distinguished for his diligence and proficiency, and graduated
with high honour.
After leaving College, he directed his attention to the study of the Law,
and was in due time admitted a member of the Bar. About the same time
he was married to Mary, the eldest daughter of the Rev. Thomas Balcht of
Dedham. He removed now to Edgarton, Martha's Vineyard, and commenced
the practice of Law, and adventured also, to some extent, in the commercial
and whaling business. Before he had been there long, however, he seems to
have become tired of secular occupations, and resolved that he would betake
himself to the study of Theology, with a view to devote himself to the
ministry. Accordingly, having closed his business at Edgarton, he removed
to Dedham, and commenced his theological studies, under the direction of
his father-in-law, the Rev. Mr. Balch, In due time he received license to
preach ; and, after having preached in several pulpits as a candidate, and
refused at least one invitation to settle, the church at Hamilton, Mass.,
(then Ipswich Hamlet,) gave him a call, of which he, in due time, signified
his acceptance. He was ordained September 11, 1771, the sermon on the
occasion being preached by the Rev. Thomas Balch.
In 1789, he received the degree of Doctor of Laws from Yale College.
He served as Chaplain in the American army during two campaigns in the
war of the Revolution. Soon after the close of the war, the Ohio Company
was formed, with the design of peopling the far West with New England
* MS. from his son.
t Aaron Brown was graduated at Yale College in 1749; was ordained at Killingly, Conn.,
in 1754; and died in 1775.
J Thomas Balch was a native of Charlestown; was graduated at Harvard College in 1733;
was ordained pastor of the church in Dedham, June 30, 1736; and died January 8, 1774, aged
sixty-three, lie published a Sermon preached at Edgarton at the ordination of John Newman,
1747; [who was graduated at Harvard College in 1740; was ordained pastor of the church in
Edgarton, July 29, 1747; was dismissed in 1758; and died in 1763;] a Sermon entitled "Christ
always present with his faithful ministers and churches," 1748; Election SermoDj 174:9; Artil-
lery Election Sennon, 1763.
10 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
omigrants, who should carry with them their native industrial and moral
influences. This company selected Dr. Cutler as their chief agent in the
purchase of one million five hundred thousand acres of land. Congress
appointed the Hon. Nathaniel Dane, an eminent lawyer of Beverly, to pre-
pare a code for the government of the territory, enjoining that he should
avail himself of such aid iu the way of suggestions, as Dr. Cutler might
aft'oid him. The Doctor proposed reserving shares of land for the support
of literary and religious institutions, and excluding involuntary service,
except for crime. Washington tendered him a commission as first Judge of
the United States' Court iu the North Western Territory ; but he preferred
to continue in the ministry, and therefore declined the appointment.
In the autumn of 1800, he was elected a member of Congress, and was
re-elected for the nest term. His congregation were at first averse to dispen-
sing with his labours for so long a time, but, on further reflection, gave their
consent, and passed a resolution signifying the same, and expressing their
high estimate of both his talents and his patriotism. After his election, it
was agreed between him and his parish that his salary should be continued,
and that he should supply the pulpit during his absence, by any substitute
whom he might think proper to select.
The most prominent measure with which Dr. Cutler was particular!}-
identified in Congress, was the famous Judiciary bill. He took an active
part in the debates in opposition to that bill, arguing that it was decidedly
unconstitutional. He was, however, in the minority in Congress, and the
bill passed, to his extreme and enduring regret. In his political opinions,
he was a thorough Federalist.
In the early part of the war of the Revolution, an American privateer
captured and brought into Salem a British prize, containing a valuable
medical and botanical library, a series of " Philosophical Transactions," and
other valuable works. These were purchased at auction by a number of
clerical and scientific gentlemen in the vicinity, (among whom was the late
Dr. Bowditch,) and became the nucleus of what is now the Salem Athenaeum.
The botanical department, — a field, till then but little cultivated in this
country, being very congenial to Dr. Cutler's taste, engaged his eager atten-
tion. He prepared a paper on Botany which the American Academy of
Arts and Sciences published in their Memoirs, and which Dr. Franklin, (as
he himself assured Dr. Cutler,) caused to be republished in the Columbian
Magazine, printed at Philadelphia. It was instrumental of bringing into
use lobelia and other efficacious indigenous plants. This science continued
to be a favourite study with him through life.
About the same time that the circumstance above referred to led Dr.
Cutler to the study of Botany, another circumstance led him to devote him-
self somewhat extensively to the stud}^ of Medicine. Dr. Whitney, the
physician of the Hamlet, had l»ccn called to engage actively in military
service ; and this obliged the people to send into some one of the neigh-
bouring towns for medical aid. Dr. Cutler, in order to meet this exigency,
qualified himself for medical practice, and engaged in it, — thus administer-
ing to the body as well as the spirit. In due time he acquired a high
reputation as a physician ; and his success in the treatment of some -of the
most difficult cases, such as hydrophobia, the bite of a rattle— snake, lock-
jaw, &c., became quite proverbial. Many valuable medical papers are still
preserved among his manuscripts.
MANASSEH CUTLER. 57
Dr. Cutler devoted himself, as he had opportunity, to the cause of edu-
cation. In early life he had been the teacher of a common school, and had
»nidently acquired a taste for the business of instruction. In after life, he
kept a boarding school in Hamilton fur many years, fitting young men for
College, and giving lessons in Navigation and other branches of Mathema-
tics. A large number of the eminent merchants of Salem and other towns
in the vicinity were dependant on him for their nautical and commercial
education ; and several foreign merchants, especially from France and the
West Indies, sent their sons to be educated by him. • In later years, he
assisted some in their theological studies preparatory to the ministry.
In 1787, Dr. Cutler published an anonymous pamphlet, which seems now
to have been prophetic, to a degree truly surprising. He hazards the pre-
diction that many then living would see our great Western waters navigated
by the power of steam, and that, within fifty years, the North Western
Territory would contain more inhabitants than all New England. What
seemed at the time a random and most improbable conjecture, has since risen
to the dignity of a prophecy, the fulfilment of which has astonished the
worhl.
Dr. Cutler's ministry was attended with very considerable success in the
apparent conversion of sinners and edification of saints. During the period
in which it continued, — about fifty-two years, — there occurred several
instances of unusual attention to religion in his congregation, and, as a con-
sequence, considerable additions to his church. He was afflicted, during the
last twenty-four years of his life, with the asthma, which, though slight at
first, constantly increased, until it finally terminated in consumption. For
the last year or two he was obliged to have some one to support him in his
walk from his house to the pulpit, and then to preach, sitting in an arm-
chair, which was placed there for his accommodation. He continued his
public services in this way till within a few months of his death. He died
with the calmness of a Christian philosopher, and in the hope of a blessed
immortality, July 28, 1823, in the eighty-first year of his age, and the
fifty-second of his ministry. His wife, who was remarkable for her kindly
and excellent dispositions, died from the bursting of a blood vessel, on the
13th of November, 1815, aged seventy-three. They had eight children, —
five sons and three daughters. Ephraim, the eldest son, immigrated early
to Ohio, was often a member of the Territorial Legislature, and of that of the
State, took an active part in the Convention that framed the State Constitution,
and was afterwards a Judge in the State Courts. He is living now, (Decem-
ber, 1850,) at the age of eighty-four. Jervis, his second son, lately
deceased, landed with the first immigrants at Marietta, at the age of nine-
teen, and was a Major in the army of 1S12, and next in command to the
celebrated General Zebulon M. Pike. Ilis third son, Charles, was graduated
at Harvard College in 1793, studied law under Harrison Gray Otis, practised
for some time in Ohio, but was suddenly cut ofi" in the midst of life. Of
his other sons one died in infancy, and the other, who still survives, ha3
always followed agricultural pursuits.
In addition to the public honours already noticed as having been con-
ferred upon him, he was elected member of the Academy of Arts and
Sciences in 1781 ; of the Philosophical Society, Philadelphia, in 1784 ; an
honorary member of the Massachusetts Medical Society in 1785 ; a mem-
ber of the Agricultural Society in 1792 ; an honorary member of the Lin-
Voi,. II. 3
28 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
naean Society, Philadelphia, in 1809; President of the Bible Society of
Salem and vicinity in 1811 ; a member of the American Antiquarian
Society in 1813 ; and a member of the New England Linnsean Society in
1815.
Dr. Cutler, in addition to his various contributions to scientific works,
published a National Fast Sermon, 17UU ; a Sermon before the Bible Society
of Salem and the vicinity, 1813 ; a Century Discourse, 1814.
FROM THE REV. JOSEPU TORREY, D. D.,
rROFESSOU IN THE UNIVEKSITY OF VEKMONT.
Burlington, April 21, 1866.
Dear Sir: You request me to furnish you with a brief sketch of my grand-
father, the late Dr. Cutler; concludino;, as I suppo.se, from my relationship to
him, that I ought to be well acquainted with his prominent characteristics. It is
my anxiety to oblige you, rather than any confidence I have in my ability to do
justice to the subject within the short compass you prescribe, that leads me to
undertake this ta.sk. In my earliest boyhood, 1 lived, for a while, in my grand-
father's family, and thus had a good opportunity of observing his habits and
ways in domestic life. The impressions I then received were naturally the most
abiding; and they doubtless modify all my later recollections of him.
His ])ersonal api)earancc, as I remember it, was uncommonly prepossessing, — a
florid complexion; a good-humoured expression of countenance; a full-propor-
tioned, well-set frame of body. lie was remarkably slow and deliberate in all
his motions. He possessed a natural dignity of manners, in which there was no
air of stiffness or reserve, but, on the contrary, the utmost frankness and cordi-
ality. He was very fond of society. His conversation, interspersed with anec-
dotes and illustrations drawn from a wide experience of the world, made him a
most entertaining and instructive companion.
lie was a man of warm alfections and of a very obliging disposition. To be
hospitable was so natural to him that he made no account of it; and it seemed as
if he could not be otherwise. His fine mansion and garden well stocked with
fruits and flowers, were open to all, and appeared to be enjoyed by him, only as
they contributed to the enjoyment of others. He was an attentive pastor; the
Immblest of his flock were .sure to find in him a .sympathizing friend in every
time of trouble. He had the confidence and love of all his people. They looked
to him as a father, and through all the infirmities which clouded the last j'eara
of his life, they stood faithfully by him. He continued to preach to them as long
as he was able to get up to the pulpit.
His mind Avas altogether of the practical cast. In matters of mere theory and
speculation he took but little interest. The activity of his understanding had
abundant scope for exercise in what he found lying immediatcl}'' before him and
around him, in the destinies of a new country, just sprung into independent exist-
ence, and opening vast, unexplored fields for science and industry. The height
of his ambition was to do his part towards beating the first paths into these fields,
and for this kind of work he possessed some important qualification.s — a talent of
discriminating observation; a sound judgment; a courageous, enterprising
.•spirit.
To great attainments in mere book knowledge he could make no pretension.
His library contained a few choice and valua>)le works of science, which he used
chiefly in the way of consultation. His knowledge was, for the most part, the
fruit of his own personal observation of men and of things. He was early
impressed with a sense of the extraordinary resources and capabilities of this
country. He saw directly around him a region teeming with mineral and vege-
table wealth, waiting to be explored. The first volume of the Memoirs of the
MANASSEH CUTLER. |9
American Academy, the earliest effort of our infant science, contains three com
munications from his pen, the last and longest of which relates to the botany of
New England. If, in looking at this paper, we are struck with the great progress
which botanical science has made since that early day, we cannot fail to admire
also the perseverance and tact which enabled its author, with such imperfect helps
as Linnaeus' Genera and species of plants, and Withering's English Botany, to
determine so many plants as he has done in so satisfactory a manner. But no
just idea of the extent of Dr. Cutler's botanical researches could be formed from
that paper alone. His collections were very large, and he distributed an incalcu-
lable number of specimens to correspondents at home and abroad. In company
with Mr. Peck, the Professor of Botany at Cambridge, he was the first to visit
and make known to the world the rich and interesting field of Alpine plants on
the sides and summit of Mount Washington in New Hampshire. A Salix Cut-
leri, admitted by a few botanists, doubtflilly records one of the discoveries of my
grandfather at the time of this visit. A genus also was named after Dr. Cutler
by Mr. Rafinesque; but it has shared the fate, I believe, of the majority of the
names given to supposed new genera by that sanguine naturalist.
In politics. Dr. Cutler belonged to the old Federalist school; but he was never
a violent party man. How profoundly he had studied politics as a science, I do
not know. I remember having often heard him talk on the agitating questions of
those days, and that I was struck with his good sense and moderation, as com-
pared with what seemed to me the extravagant language used by many others.
His first visit to Congress was at a session held in New York, when he appeared
before that body as an agent to negotiate the purchase of lands for the Ohio com-
pany. On this occasion, he was brought into contact with several of the leading
politicians of those times. I have always understood that he showed consummate
skill and address in the management of the business entrusted to him, which he
succeeded in carrying through many difiiculties to a successful issue, thus securing
the settlement of Eastern Ohio by New England men. When, some years after-
wards, he became himself a member of Congress, if he did not distinguish him-
self by the frequency or the violence of his speeches, he at least lost none of the
reputation he had already gained for probity, sagacity, and prudence in the dis-
charge of public duties. He was esteemed by the good men of all parties. He
could name Washington and Franklin as among the number of his personal
friends.
As a preacher, he was grave, dignified, and impressive in manner, and solid in
the matter of his discourses. In doctrine, a moderate Calvinist, he steadily main-
tained the religious opinions with which he began his ministry, to the end of his
life. It was rumoured that, in the latter part of his life, he was inclined to more
liberal opinions; but it was only a rumour. He took great care in making his
preparations for the pulpit, and invariably read both his sermons aloud to hiir-
Belf in his study on the Saturday evening before they were preached. Such was
Dr. Cutler, a New England clergyman of the old stamp, one of the representa-
tives of a type which it is pleasant to call to remembrance, though we may not
regret that it has passed away.
Very sincerely yours,
J. TORREY.
20 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
EPIlllAIM JUDSON *
1771—1813.
Ephraim Judson was a descendant, in the fifth generation, from William
Judson, who came from Yorki^hire, England, with his family, in 1634, and,
after living four years at Concord, Mass., removed to Stratford, Conn., and
thence to New Haven, where he died in IGGO. I'hc immediate parents of
Ephraim were Elnathan and llebecca Judson. He was born in Woodbury,
Conn,, December 5, 1737, and, according to the usage of the day, was
baptized the next Sabbath. He was graduated at Yale College in 1763.
On the 3d of October, 1771, he was ordained pastor of the Second Congre-
fational church in Norwich, Conn., as successor to the Rev. Dr. Whitakcr.
Hero he laboured about seven years, and was released from his pastoral
charge on the 15th of December, 1778. In 1780, he was installed pastor
of the church in Taunton, Mass. On the 28th of December, 1790, he was
dismissed from his charge, by an ecclesiastical council, at his own request, in
consequence of difficulties in the church, which had existed for several years.
The church, in consenting to his request, say, — '"We recommend him to
other churches and all persons whom it may concern, as one of an exemplary
moral character ; and the doctrines held up to view by him, from time to
time, during his ministry among us, well agreed to the religion of our fore-
fathers ; and the sentiments revealed in the Holy Scriptures, especially such
as respected faith and practice, were his delightful themes on Sabbath days."
In May 1791, he was settled as pastor of the Congregational church in
Sheffield, Mass., as successor to the Rev. John Keep, where he continued
his ministry till the close of his life. He died on the 23d of February,
1813, in his seventy-sixth year.
Mr. Judson assisted a considerable number of young men in their
immediate preparation fur the ministry, and was regarded by the school of
Theologians to which he belonged as a capable and excellent teacher.
He was married to Chloe Ellis of Somers, Conn. They had one child,
born at Norwich in 1777, and bearing the name of his father. He was
graduated at Williams College in 1797, and practised law in Sandisfield,
Mass., where he died in 1807.
The following is a list of IMr. Judson 's publications : — A Sermon at the
ordination of Jonathan Strong, 1789. A Sermon at the ordination of
Ebenezer Fitch, 179.T. Two Sermons in a " Collection of Sermons on impor-
tant subjects," 1797. A Sermon at the ordinaljon of David Smith, 1799.
A Sermon at the ordination of Hollan<l Weeks, 1799.
FROM THE REV. CHESTER DEWEY, D. D.
Rochester, April 26, 1852.
My dear Sir: You arc rij^ht in supposing that I have some knowledge of the
Rev. Ephraim Judson, formerly minister of Sheflfiold, my native place. My
earliest recollections of a minister and of preaching, centre upon him, as there was
• EmeTy's Taunton ministry. — Calkin's Hist, of Norwich. — MS. from Rev. Dayid Smith,
D. D.— Holland's Hist. West. Mass., II.
EPHRAIM JUDSON. 21
no other religious society in the township than that of which he had the charge,
till after the commencement of the present century.
As to his personal appearance, — he was tall, of strong muscular frame, erect
and commanding in his person, and slow in his movements and enunciation. He
wore the white Avig of that period, was simple but stately in his manners, and yet
very affable and pleasant to those well acquainted with him.
In his Theology he was a decided follower of Dr. Hopkins; and, being thoroughly
acquainted with the system, and withal possessing an uncommonly discriminating
mind and strong logical powers, he could defend his own views with great skill
and ability. He had a good knowledge of Ecclesiastical History as well as Theo-
logy, and was altogether a well read Divine for that period. His sermons were
marked by great perspicuity and terseness, and abounded in pithj^ and striking
remarks. Thej' contained a large amount of well digested, well arranged thought,
without any attempt at elegance of style; and his manner seldom rose to much
earnestness. Before my young mind he stood beneath that sounding board over
the pulpit, the very personification of gravity and dignity.
The church in Sheffield, when he was settled over it, was considered decidedly
Arminian; but, in fifteen years, nearly all its members had adopted substantially
the Theology of their pastor. His manner was not to propound directly his views
in opposition to those of the church, but so to interweave points of doctrine with
his preaching on experimental and practical religion, that both should be received
together. Said one of the older members to me — " We were made Calvinists
before we knew it;" and then added, — " had Mr. Judson preached at first as he
sometimes does now, the church would have been sundered; we should have
resisted an open attack upon our opinions."
While other denominations than the Congregational had been increasing in
most towns in the county of Berksliire, they made little progress in Sheffield.
Mr. Judson told me, about 1805, that only seven families in the whole town belonged
to anj^ other congregation or church than his own. It was his practice, when a
preacher of some other communion began to hold meetings within the bounds of
his parish, to appoint a lecture in the nearest school house, and in other school
houses in succession, and in that way to retain the people in connection with his
society. At such lectures he made no allusion to any whom he was virtually
opposing, but gave the hearers a plain, practical sermon, and urged upon them
the great duty of becoming reconciled to God, and of consecrating themselves to
his service. If any one wished to question him in respect to any thing contained
in his sermon, as sometimes happened, he always declined any controversy as
unsuitable to the time, and invited the would-be disputant to call upon him, when
he would converse with him as much as he might desire. He was always a
gainer by this course, as the people saw that he had regard to the proprieties of
life, and was ready to give a reason to all that desired it enough to call upon him.
"If I had disputed with the inquirer," said lie to me, " it would not have pro-
fited him; and had I been the better reasoncr, his friends would probably have
made their conclusions to the contrary.
In politics, Mr. Judson was a decided Democrat of the school of Jefferson; and he
scarcely regarded the measures of the Federalists, about the beginning of this cen-
tury, with less aversion, than he did the infidelity which was then so extensively
prevalent. But he never meddled with party politics in the pulpit, nor allowed
himself even to converse about them, except with th«se of kindred views, and then
only in a very private waj'. In this manner, while he lield fast his own convic-
tions, he avoided raising a storm, which many ministers of less prudence have
raised, and have found unmanageable, and been swept away by it.
Mr. Judson's character was strongly marked by eccentricity. However hmited
your intercourse with him miglft be, this characteristic would force itself upon
you. For instance, on one occasion he was examining a person who had offered
22 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
himself as a teacher of one of the common schools in the town; and not findmg
the candidate so learned as he desired on the matter of the questions, he put one
to test his common sense — " How man}' legs has a sheep?" " Four," — said the
teacher. " But if we call the tail a leg, how many legs has the sheep.'" " Five,"
replied the teacher. " Ah, will caUiiis the tail a leg, make it a leg.^" It was one
point farther than the teacher's tlioughts liad adventured. On his return from a
visit to Connecticut, Mr. Judson called at the house of a brother minister, accor-
ding to the custom of the day, to refresh himself. The clergyman's son having
helped him from the carriage, Mr. Judson thus addressed him — "Have come
from New Haven; horse tired; hay, oats, water; want some dinner; stay thirty-
five minutes." This is a specimen of his laconic mode of speaking, as well as of
his oddity. It is due to truth, however, to say that little or nothing of eccentri
city marked his services in the pulpit.
A few months after I was licensed to preach, I visited my native place. Mr. Jud-
son soon called upon me, and, as he always called me one of his boys, said, "Ches-
ter , a young man, a little older than you, whom you have always known
and been associated with, is dead. The funeral will be to morrow, and you must
preach the sermon to the afflicted family." To my answer that I could not,-^that
I had no sermon for such an occasion, and could not prepare one in the intervening
period, he replied, — " It must be as I have said; it is proper and becoming, and
to-morrow at ten o'clock, I shall call and take you to the funeral, when you will
preach — to morrow at ten I shall be after you." He immediately left me, and
returned at the appointed hour. On the way to the funeral, he began to give me
advice, in his own familiar way, nearly in the following words : — " Chester, do not
make any excuse to the people, or say that you are not prepared, or that it is all
unexpected, or that I have urged you into it; for no one will believe you, and
some will think you do it to gain some favour as a show off. Never make an
apology, but always do as well as j^ou can in the circumstances, and leave the rest.
You will be the gainer." This I thought at the time was true wisdom, and I have
ever since made it a rule of action — I believe I have never made an apology for doing
what circumstances seemed to demand. The good man long since went to his rest,
but the lessons of his good sense operate on me to this hour, and T have urged
them upon many a young man , as worthy of being kept in remembrance and
reduced to action. Your obedient servant,
CHESTER DEWEY.
In a letter, dated February 24, 1853, from the Rev. Dr. Bond of
Norwich, who is pastor of the same church of which Mr. Judson for-
merly had the charge, there is the following additional testimony to his
eccentricity : —
" There is an old gentleman in my church, who is now in his one hundred and
second year, — his mind and memory clear, who has a distinct recollection of Mr.
Judson, and has given me some curious facts concerning him. He sa3'S that he had
the reputation of being somewhat indolent, as well as very odd. He did not hesi-
tate, when he was a little weary, to deliver his sermon sitting. Sometimes, when
the heat was oppressive, he would give out a long hymn of ten stanzas, and while
the choir were performing, he would retreat to a shaded rock on the bank of
the Shetucket, and enjoy a summer breeze, — resuming his service when the
singing was over."
Mr. Judson had a brother, Adoniram, who was born at Woodbury,
June 25, 1751 ; was graduated at Yale College in 1775 ; and was ordained
pastor of the church in Maiden, Mass., January 23, 1787. He settled there
amid a tempest of opposition, and not till after three councils had convened
and separated without ordaining him. He was dismissed, September 29
EPHRAIM JUDSON. 23
1791. He was installed pastor of the church in Wenhara, December 26,
1792, and was dismissed, October 22, 1799. He was installed at Plymouth,
May 12, 1802. Having changed his sentiments on the subject of Baptism,
he was again dismissed in August, 1817. He afterwards preached in the
Baptist connection in several places, and died at Scituate, November 25,
1826, aged seventy-sis years. He published a Sermon on the Anniversary
of the landing of our Fathers at Plymouth, 1802.
JOSEPH WILLARD, D. D., L. L. D.*
1772—1804.
FROM THE HON. SIDNEY WILLARD,
PROFESSOR IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY.
Cambridge, August 19, 1851.
My dear Sir : Agreeably to your request, I send you a short biographical
account of the Rev. Joseph Willard, President of Harvard College,
written in conformity to my personal recollections, and to such imperfect
memorials as I have been able to procure.
Joseph Willard was born in Biddeford, Me., December 29, (0. S.) 1738.
He was a son of the Rev. Samuel Willard, then the minister of that town,
and of Abigail his wife, daughter of Samuel Wright, Esq., of Rutland,
Mass. The Rev. Samuel Willard was graduated at Harvard College in
1723, and died October 25, 1741, aged thirty-five. The father of Samuel
Willard was John, who graduated at Harvard College in 1690, and some years
afterwards, settled as a merchant at Kingston in Jamaica. The year of hia
death is not known. The father of John was the Rev. Samuel Willard,
minister, first of Groton, and afterwards of the Old South church, Boston,
and Vice President of Harvard College.
Joseph Willard was born and reared in poverty. He was not three years
old when his father died, and when he reached the period of pupilage, and
advanced to manhood, his opportunities for learning must have been very
inconsiderable. His widowed mother was married to the minister of Scar-
borough, a few years after her husband's death, which consequently became
the place of his residence. Little is known of the history of his youth. t
He very early manifested a desire and capacity for acquiring knowledge, and
made considerable proficiency in mathematical studies, including the science
of Navigation. It would seem that he might have looked forward to a sea-
faring life, as a matter of necessity or desire, since, in connection with this
study, he made several coasting voyages. At intervals also, he taught
school in the town of his residence, or in its neighbourhood.
About the time of his majority, he purposed to study medicine. He
visited for this purpose his cousin, Dr. John Frink of Rutland, Mass., and
concluded to pursue the study with him ; but .n unforeseen occurrence
caused him to relinquish his design. On his return to Biddeford, he met
* Holmes' Fun. Serm. — Peiree"s Hist. Harv. CoU. — ^Quincy's do.
t A few memoranda obtained from his elder brother, the Rev. John Willard, D. D., of Staf-
ford, Conn., are all that I have to rely upon.
24 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
with Mr. Samuel Moody, in York, Mc. Mr. Moody, or Master Moody, by
which prjB-noraen, he was widely known In New Eujihmd, was then teacher of
the Crrannnar school in York, and afterwards of Dumnier Academy. Mr.
Willard disclosed to him his intention to study medicine. Whether they had
been previously acquainted with each other, it is not known ; but in his
abrupt and schoolmaster style, Mr. Moody said to Willard, "You must go
to College." The latter replied that he had not the means. The eager
echoolmaster forthwith procured a subscription for his board, instructed him
without charge, oifercd him for admis.iion to College in about a year, and
continued his generous aid by successful efforts in behalf of his meritorious
pupil as a beneficiary scholar.
It is remarkable that a man entering College in the twenty-third year of
his age, with only a year's preparation, should distinguish himself by emi-
nent attainments in Latin and Greek. This Mr. Willard is said to have
done. In Greek, he was facile princeps ; and in a year after he received
his Bachelor's degree, he was appointed Tutor in that language. Of the
Latin language he acquired, during his academic career as pupil and instruc-
tor, such an accurate and familiar knowledge, that he wrote in it with facil-
ity and classical taste ; as is manifest in his Latin addresses afterwards to
some of the graduating classes in the earlier years of his Presidency, and in
his Concio brevis, introductory to the Exercises at Harvard College, per-
formed in pious commemoration of the '■'■singular talents, eminent virtues,
and un-parallelled services of Washington the good."
Greek, however, was his favourite language. His study of it had been so
minute and critical from the beginning, and his after reading of its historians,
philosophers, and poets, had become so extensive, that his fiimiliarity with
them became one of the greatest pleasures of his ripest years, and in a man-
ner, the pastime of his declining life.
During the first ten or twelve years after he was called to preside over
Harvard College, he wrote a Grammar of the Greek language, (the first
probably that was written in English,) which remains in manuscript in the
Library of the University. It shows great research in regard to dialects
and idioms, and the meaning and uses of particles, by a wide citation of
examples and authorities. It was nearly completed when the Gloucester
Greek Grammar was published. This so far accomplished the end he had
in view, that he seems to have abandoned the design of printing his own,
which he did not revise and prepare for the press.
In regard to the branches of literature and science in which President
Willard excelled, Mr. Webber,* who, as a pupil, among the oldest and most
•Samuel 'Webber was born at Byfield, Mass., in the j-car 1750. When he was about ten
years of age, his father, who was in humble circumstances, removed to Hopkinton, N. II.,
where, through the influence of the minister of the parish, lie was induced to consent to his
sou's receiving a liberal education. He entered Harvard College in 1780; and, Laving main-
tained the highest rank of scholarship throughout his whole course, graduated in 1784. The two
years succeeding his graduation he spent at Canjbridge, prosecuting a course of theological
study, with an iutention to devote himself to the ministry. Soon after he commenced preach-
ing, he was appointed Principal of Dunimcr Academy in his native jilace. He accepted the
appointment, but remained there only a short time, in consequence of being chosen a Tutor at
Cambridge. He held tiiat office with high reputation until 1789, when he was appointed Hollis
Professor of Mathematics and .^'atural Philosophy. In 17'.H), he was employed by Commission-
ers under the government of th United States, to ascertain by astronomical observations the
line which separates the United States from the liritisb American domiuidns. He succeeded Dr
Willard as President of Harvard College, being inducted into office on the Cth of May, 1806.
He published Mathematics in two volumes, 8vo., ISdl; and a Eulogy on President Willard,
1 804. He was a me ! ber of the Americiin Philosophical Society, Vice President of the Amer-
ican Academy of Arts and Sciences, <tc. He died of apoplexy, July 17, 1810, aged fifty-one.
JOSEPH WILLARD. 25
distinguished in his chiss, had known him for more than two years, and as
Tutor and afterwards Professor of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy,
had known him intimately for seventeen years, said of him in a Eulogy
delivered at his funeral, —
" He took special deliglit in tlie Latin and Greek classics, and in mathematics. In
the refined and noble language of ancient Greece, his reading and researches were
remarkably extensive. In this department of literature, perhaps he had no equal in
the United States. Mathematical science, especially spherics and astronomy, fur-
nished exercise fur the energy of his mind, which was a source of peculiar gratification.
Frequently has he communicated to me the result of an astronomical inquiry with
emotions of lively pleasure. Alas, my father, that I can never again participate with
you in such refined, such elevated enjoyment!
'• In making astronomical observations and calculations, he was very accurate and
skilful. His performances in this line, published in the Memoirs of the American
Academy of Arts and Sciences, are sufficient evidences of his skill in the sublime
science of astronomy.'"
Mr. Willard was one of the members named in the Act of incorporation
of that Society, which was passed. 1780, — the year before he was elected
President of the College. He was the first Corresponding Secretary, and
in 1784 was chosen Vice President, which office he held by annual election
until his death.
After he took his first degree, he resided at College as a student in
Divinity, until he was chosen a Tutor. He still continued his preparation
for the pulpit ; but at what time he began to preach is not known. In the
year 1772, he received a call from the First church in Beverly to become
its pastor. He accepted the call, and consequently resij^ned the office of
Tutor, after a faithful and commendable service of six years. He was ordained
as colleague pastor with the Rev. Joseph Champney,* November 25, 1772.
Andrew Eliot, D. D., pastoV of the church in North street, Boston, preached
the ordination sermon. In the relation of pastor, he was favoured, both in
regard to locality, and to the general character of his parishioners. He
was long remembered by them with affection and respect, and reciprocal
hospitality existed, for many years after he removed to Cambridge, between
his family and several of those of his parochial charge, and the clergymen
with whom he had been associated by interchanges of friendly visits.
In the ninth year of his ministry, 1781, he was elected President of
Harvard College, and was installed on the 19th of December, in the same
year. For more than sixteen successive years, he enjoyed almost uninter-
rupted health, and was able to devote himself with a single eye to the wel-
fare of the College. But in the summer of 1798, he was prostrated by a
severe illness, from which, for several months, slight hopes were entertained
of his recovery. He so far recovered from this illness during the following
autumn and winter, as to resume his official duties ; but not, as before^
without intermission. In the vacation after the College Commencement,
on the last Wednesday of August, 1804, he took a journey to the Southern
part of the State, and on his return from Nantucket to New Bedford, he
was seized, at the latter place, with sudden illness, on the night of the 19th
of September, and died on the evening of the 25th.
In the sixteenth month after his ordination at Beverly, — viz : March 7,
1774, Mr. Willard was married to Mary Sheafe, daughter of Jacob Sheafe,
Esq., a merchant of Portsmouth, N. H. She was born November 25,
• Joseph Champney was born at Cambridge; was graduated at Harvard College in 1721;
w»s ordained at Beverly, December 10, 1729; and died February 23, 1773, aged sixty-nine.
Vol. II. 4
26 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
1753, and died at Portsmouth, March 6, 1826. She voluntarily took upon
her, in her married state, more than a wife's usual portion of domestic care,
to uliord her husband more time and opportunity for study and the per-
formance of official duties, notwithstanding the large family of children that
required her maternal oversight. Their wedded life was, in all respects,
exemplary. Mutual kindness and deference were observed in their treat-
ment of each other, while no selfish or exclusive feelings cheeked their-
hospitality or social intercourse. Obliged to abstain from all show in furni-
ture and equipage, since they had no superfluity, they were ever ready to
receive their guests and make them feel their welcome.
Mr. Willard's domestic character was an example to his children, not
only safe but salutary. He never deceived them nor any one else. He
did not irritate them by harshness ; he did not put them in such fear by
chiding and threatening them for their errors and faults, as to make them
artful and truthless. They feared to offend him, because he gained their
respect by his admonitions and counsels, and their love by reasonable indul-
gence and quiet consistent ruling.
In the family group, and in the social circle of visitors, he had no eccen-
tricities ; and thus there is wanting one source of interest, which pertain.'*
to the biographical notices of some distinguished men. Ho was fond of
society, but was contented with a moderate shai'e of the conversation. He
aimed at no rivalry with those who were ambitious of distinction in this
way, or with those whose natural gifts, improved by cultivation, secured to
them an acknowledged eminence in social converse. Nor, on the contrary,
was he a watchful listener for the sake of dogmatizing on matters concerning
which his knowledge and opinions were entitled- to peculiar respect. " An
engaging degree of modesty," said Professor Webber, "was combined with
great dignity in his deportment. His gravity and seriousness never degene-
rated into melancholy. A temperate cheerfulness always beamed in his
countenance, when he had opportunity and leisure to manifest it."
While he loathed vulgarity, he had a relish for refined wit and chaste
humour, and was not unfrequently excited to laughter, alike involuntary,
hearty, and cheering, and sometimes it might be more resonant than the
rigid rules of politeness allow.
Among the favourite recreations in his family, which he encouraged by
his example and aid, was music, — especially sacred music, with which he
was familiarly acquainted as a science, and he took his part in the vocal
perfurmance. It was one of the means of making home a social state, of
taking from it the feeling of solitariness, and the restless desire of wandering
and change so common to the young.
Towards the undergraduates of the College he felt a paternal regard, and
exercised, as far as it was practicable, a paternal government. He mingled
moderation with firmness, and in cases demanding exemplary punishment,
he softened its rigour, by holding out to the delinquent his ability to redeem
his character, and gain a restoration to the favour and approval of the
Faculty. The intercourse between the members of the Faculty and the
students was, in his time, more formal and distant, demanding more outward
marks of respect from the pupils towards their teachers, and especially
towards the President, than in times more recent. But when they came to
hi.** study for any purpose, he listened to them patiently, and extended to
them as much indulgence as he thought their ^-ersonal good, or the whole-
JOSEPH WILLARD. 27
some discipline of the College, permitted. His commoD mode of address,
especially to the younger scholars, when they thus approached him, was
such as tended to relieve their embarrassment, and even to encourage them
to a prompt and frank declaration of their purpose. "Well child, what do
you wish ?" or " what is your wish ?" — was perhaps his most usual method of
accosting students on such an occasion, if they were not so impulsive and
abrupt in announcing their wishes, as to anticipate his questions. In either
case, they were sure of an answer to their requests with little hesitancy or
delay on his part.
The exalted moral qualities of President Willard, — his moral courage,
integrity, and firmness, and no less his kindness, benevolence, and forbearance
were well known and highly appreciated by all who knew him. As the
head of the Corporation who framed the laws, and also of the Faculty on
which devolved the immediate government of the students, he never shrank
from the responsibility of executing these laws, and enforcing the discipline
decreed by the latter body, nor exonerated himself from sharing in mea-
sures which occasioned the displeasure of parents or friends, or which he
did not fidly approve, by imputing them to other members of the Faculty.
His integrity of purpose in all his relations, fortified by a firmness of
character which enabled him to disregard all threats and all lures intended
to make him falter in the path of duty, were never doubted.
It does not appear that any of his sermons were printed during his
ministry at Beverly. He continued to preach occasionally after he entered
upon the duties of President, in the pulpits of his clerical brethren, and
sometimes in the College at evening prayers on Sunday. A few of his occa-
sional sermons were printed, viz : — A Thanksgiving Sermon delivered at
Boston, in Brattle Street Church, 1783 ; a Sermon at the ordination of his
successor at Beverly, Kev. Joseph McKeen, 1785 ; a Sermon at the fune-
ral of the Rev. Timothy Hilliard, of Cambridge, 1790 ', and a Sermon at
the ordination of the Ptev. Hezekiah Packard, at Chelmsford, 1793.
He was a diligent reader of the Bible, and particularly of the New
Testament, — in the original languages; and his critical knowledge of the
Greek language is frequently shown in his sermons, without any vain display,
by such illustrations of words and phrases as give them significations more
definite, and sometimes more comprehensive, than those of the received
English text. His preaching was plain, instructive, sincere, and solemn.
Repentance towards God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, were promi-
nent doctrines in his discourses, as the strong hold of piety and the social
virtues.
Dr. Willard's friendships among the clergy extended to men who difi"ered
from each other on the subject of the Trinity and other theological doctrines, —
friendships extending from the early times of his ministry to the close of
his life. Of this number was Dr. Simeon Howard, minister of the West
Church in Boston, who was a Fellow of the Corporation at the time of
President Willard's inauguration, and who continued to hold that office
until his death, which occurred a few weeks before the death of the Presi-
dent. Their mutual affection was fraternal and uninterrupted. Dr. Howard,
the elder, died on the 13th of August, 1804, and President Willard preached
the funeral sermon at his burial. Though, at the time of performing this
last mournful office due to the memory of so dear a friend, there had been nc
28 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
rerjent warning that his own days were so nearly numbered, yet the thought
of death was familiar to him, and never banished as an unwelcome intruder.
Very respectfully your friend
And faithful servant,
SIDNEY WILLARD.
FROM THE HON. DANIEL AITLETON WHITE.
Salem, November 24, 1849.
My dear Sir : As you ask me only for my recollections of the late President
Willard, 1 cannot refuse to comply with your request, incompetent as 1 really am
to do justice to his exalted character and virtues, or to give an adequate view of
his eminent attainments in science and learning. I cannot claim to have had the
honour of an intimate acquaintance witli him, though 1 knew him well for tlie last
eleven years of his life. He w'as, as you are aware, a full generation before me,
and 1 always revered him for his wisdom and piety, as well as for his venerable
age and station. The circumstances under which my acquaintance with him was
formed, may have impressed me with too deep a sense of his superiority ; and if so.,
you must make the proper allowance in receiving my estimate of his character
1 can only give you my genuine impressions, and this 1 will endeavour to do in all
simplicity and truthfulness.
Tlie iirst time I ever saw President Willard, was in July, 1793, when I went
to Cambridge to enter the University. It was on the day of the Commencement,
and he was in the midst of its imposing ceremonies and duties, surrounded by the
Governor and other dignitaries of the Commonwealth, looking up to him as the
great man of the day, while his majestic person and bearing in his robes of office,
witli his academic cap and huge white wig, marked him as such to all beliolders.
I received of course a profound impression of his dignity and eminence. The next
"lime 1 saw him was when I went with others to his study, to be examined for
admission, after an examination by the Tutors. The awe with which I approached
his presence, was at once removed by his benignant manner in receiving us, and
asking the various preliminar}'- questions, as well as in conducting our whole
examination. I still remember how kind 1 thought him, when, to a critical ques-
tion from tlic Greek grammar I made answer that I had never before been asked
such a question, and he silently passed it by, without even a look of displeasure.
I now left him with the impres.^ion that he was as good as he was great.
These early impressions of his dignity and kindness were rather strengthened
than weakened by my intercourse with him during the four years tliat 1 was a
pupil under his Presidency, and the four subsequent years that I was associated
with him in the immediate Government (now called tlie Faculty) of the College.
As a pupil, I felt for him a sincere veneration; and as an associate in the College
Faculty, 1 learned to love him too as a father. I never saw him among any men,
or in any society, where he did not appear to be regarded with veneration and
deference; nor did I ever know him to be discomposed or embarrassed on the most
trying occasions. Yet, though every where the object of such peculiar respect,
which he could not but feel conscious of deserving, he assumed no airs of superi-
ority, nor was ever wanting in a proper regard for the rights and feelings of others.
With the greatest self-respect, he was as true to others as to himself. His whole
life was evidently modelled on the sound and impregnable principles of religion,
and presented an admirable specimen of the old Puritan character, liberalized and
improved. The solid and the useful virtues were united in Iwm with the noblest
qualities. Generosity, disinterestedness, magnanimity, together with a lofty
integrity, and the strictest honour, were prominent traits in his character. So, too,
were modesty, simplicity, and singleness of heart. Xo man could be farther
removed from all suspicion of intrigue or management for .selfish ends. It was
probably never conceived by any body that he could be biassed in his official con-
JOSEPH WILLA-RD. 29
duct by considerations of personal interest or popularity. As President of the
University^ he thought only of a faithful, honourable, and complete discharge of
his arduous duties. He possessed the true spirit of government, and was ready to
oxert it upon every necessary occasion; but the infliction of punishment was always
painful to him. He cherished a fatherly affection for the students, — an aficction
which was clearly visible to members of the College Faculty, — however it might
be concealed by the veil of a dignified reserve, — a veil then but too fashionable, —
from the students themselves. Yet no student could have personal intercourse
with him, without some experience of his paternal kindness. As an illustration,
I may be allowed to mention my own experience, which is indelibly' impressed
on my memory. I can still .see his benign countenance, as he used to look up,
on my entering his study, and mildly say — " well child, what do you wish ?"
Nor have I kind words only to remember. Once, in obedience to my father, (who
was a Baptist,) I inquired of him if Mr. HoUis, the benefactor of the College, had
not made some provision for sons of Baptists. He replied, " Not for them, more
than others;" but added that as Mr. HoUis was himself a Baptist, they took par-
ticular pleasure in appointing sons of Baptists, who were otherwise entitled, to
partake of his bounty. 1 was afterwards surprised (for I had never asked of
the Colleg3 a pecuniary favour) to find a credit from this source in my quarter
bills; nor could I account for it, but from the President's kind and considerate
remembrance.
As head of the College Faculty, President Willard possessed rare excellence.
He was a perfect presiding ofiBcer. Affable, courteous, and dignified, he inspired the
most cordial respect; — a respect which alone secured an orderl}' attention to aU
matters of business before the Board. He listened with the greatest mildness and
patience to the suggestions or arguments of any member, desirous that all should
have a fair opportunity to be heard, and never prematurely interposing his own
opinion or views. He was as far from arrogating more than his rightful voice, as
he was from surrendering that. A particular instance of this occurs to me, which
deserves mention also as showing his firmness in always doing what he thought
just and right. At some meeting of the Faculty, when there were present three
Professors and two Tutors, a measure was proposed by one of the former, which
was objected to by the latter, and, after a full discussion, during which the President
indicated no opinion whatever, it appeared upon taking the vote that the three
Professors were in favour of the measure, and the two Tutors against it. All now
supposed the question settled, till the President, instead of so stating the vote,
declared, " I give my vote in the negative," — thus arresting the measure. The
Professors were greatly surprised, if not vexed. The venerable Dr. Tappan, who
was one of them, ventured to inquire if there might not be some doubt as to the
President's right to vote in such a case. "T have no doubt," was the laconic
reply, and not a word more was said on the subject.
When a measure was once fairly adopted by the Board, though in opposition
to the President's individual opinion, and though ever so unpopular, yet he would
never flinch from his full share of the responsibility, or allow it to be intimated
out of the Faculty that he liad been opposed to it. Upon his being once told of
an instance, wherein a member of the Faculty had acted otherwise, I well remem-
ber with what a look of reprobation he simply said, — " That was very wrong."
You ask me especiall}- for anecdotes illustrative of any part of President Willard 's
character. I have no bon mots, or smart sayings, of his to repeat. In social life,
he would heartily enjoy tlie exhilaration of wit, and humour, and pleasantry, but
his own conversation certainly did not abound in either. He Avas rarely, if ever,
bouyant, airy, or facetious, but generally grave and serious, often cheerful, never
gloomy or sour, and always substantial, sound, and benevolent. I knew him best
in his official relations, and I recollect an instance in tliis connection, which may-
serve to illustrate his want of a quick susceptibility of humour, or his high sense of
propriety, — perhaps both. At a meeting of the Faculty for selecting from among
30 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
the Seniors such as were most qualified for preparing the " Theses " of the class,
the President asked the Tutor in Natural Philosophy (who was an incorrigible
punster) how a certain student would work in plijsics, and received a reply which
convulsed with laughter every one except the President, who looked utterly aston-
ished. Good Dr. Tappan hastened to relieve him, and as soon as he could com-
mand liimself, cried out, " A pun, Sir, a pun." " La," said the President, " I
was not thinking of a pun." Nor did he then stop to think of it; but immedi-
ately resumed the subject, which had been so unexpectedly interrupted.
On ordinary occasions. President Willard was not huent or graceful in extem-
poraneous addresses, yet when roused by some pressing emergency, he was able
to meet it with great energy of thought and language, if not with true eloquence.
A striking instance of this occurs to my recollection. The chapel desk or pulpit
was one morning found to be a heap of ruins, — destroj^cd, as was then supposed,
by students, but in truth, as afterwards ascertained, by rowdies from abroad.
The President, when informed of it, directed the chapel bell to be rung as usual,
and, attending prayers himself, took his stand amidst the ruins, in his wonted
dignified and composed manner, and before praying, addressed the assembled
students, who were really shocked by the scene before them, in a most appropri-
ate manner, and with a power of vigorous eloquence, which they had little thought
he possessed.
I recollect another instance of his acquitting himself to great acceptance, on
a more embarrassing occasion. At a very disorderly period of the College, a
student who had been sentenced to rustication, was called out in the chapel, after
morning prayers, to stand in the aisle, as was then the custom, and receive his
sentence before the assembled University. The President, after directing him to
lay aside a cane which he held in his hand, read to him the sentence of rustication;
at the close of which, he seized his cane, and swinging it violently over his head,
denounced the President and Faculty, in a fur-ious manner, and in outrageous and
profane terms of insult. A prodigious sensation was created through the assem-
bly. The President's composure, however, did not forsake him. I observed him
to bend over the desk, in consultation with the Professors and Tutors, who were
.seated below him, and presently resuming his former attitude, he declared, as their
unanimous decision, that (the individual under rustication) be forthwith
expelled from the University. Nothing was ever more exactly suited to the merits
of a case, or to the feelings of an audience, than this prompt and Summary expul-
sion. The demeanour of the President was throughout characteristic of his wisdom
and firmness, and excited the admiration of his friends.
President Willard was found equal to any exigency in his academical career,
and his ability ever seemed to rise with the pressure of the exigency. Those who
remembered him in the office of Tutor, to which he was appointed the very first year
after his graduation, used to say that he was, at that time, remarkable for his
moral courage and physical energy, as well as for his learning and intellectual
strength. He was far greater, it would seem, in his intrinsic character than in
the events or the honours of his life. All the moral elements of true greatness
were combined in him; and had he been called to a wider sphere of action, and
more exciting public functions, the powers and resources of his mind would have
been more fully developed, and he of course would have attained to a still higher
rank among great men. Truly and faithfully yours,
D. A. WHITE.
President Willard had a brother, John, who was a highly respectable
clergyman in Connecticut. He was born at Biddeford ; was graduated at
Cambridge in 1751 ; was ordained pastor of the church in Stafford, Conn.,
March 23, 1757 ; received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Yale Col-
lege in 1803 ; and died February, 16, 1807.
BENJAMIN WADS WORTH. 31
BENJAMIN WADSWORTH, D. D *
1772—1826.
Benjamin Wads worth was born of pious and respectable parents, at
Milton, Mass., July 18, 1750. His father was, for many years, a deacon
of the church in that town. In his childhood and youth, he was distinguished
for great tenderness of conscience and sobriety of deportment. Under the
influence of a religious education, his mind became early imbued with a
sense of Divine things. It was, for some time, a question with him, —
whether it was his duty to devote himself to the ministry of the Gospel ;
but he felt constrained, after mature refleclion,to decide it in the affirmative.
With this in view, he commenced and prosecuted a course of classical study,
and became a member of Harvard College in 1765. During his connection
with College, he was remarkable for diligence and proficiency in his studies.
as well as for exemplary conduct ; and when he graduated, in 1769, some
new and honourable exercises were introduced at the Commencement, — one
of which was assigned to him. During the year succeeding his graduation,
he was engaged in teaching a school ; after which, he went to reside at
Cambridge, and pursued the study of Theology under the direction chiefly
of Professor Wigglesworth. He subsequently passed a winter with the
Kev. Abraham Williams of Sandwich ; and in the spring of 1772, was
licensed to preach by the Association which included the ministers of Milton
and Braintree. On the 23d of December following, he was set apart to the
pastoral charge of the church in Danvers. Here he continued to labour with-
out interruption, till near the close of life. He was blessed with a good
constitution, and uncommonly vigorous health, insomuch that, until the
commencement of his last illness, he was never detained from the pulpit,
during his whole ministry, more than four or five Sabbaths, and scarcely
ever had occasion to call for medical aid.
He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Harvard
College, in 1816.
About the close of March, 1825, Dr. Wadsworth was taken off from his
labours by the commencement of the illness which terminated his life. His
disease was a lingering one, though he died suddenly, and with little appa-
rent suffering. In the immediate prospect of his departure, he uttered
himself to a brother minister, substantially as follows : — " I feel more than
ever the responsibility of our office, and my many imperfections and deficien-
cies. I have endeavovired to preach the great truths of the Grospel in a plain,
experimental, and practical manner, and to be governed myself by its precepts
and directions, maintaining a conscience void of offence towards both God
and man. But, oh, my short comings ! Oh, the solemn test! We must
give an account of ourselves and our ministry at the bar of Christ ! Yet,
death has no terror to my mind — in a humble, penitent way, I rely on the
mercy of God through the righteousness of the Divine Saviour. Here is
my only dependance — the blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin — it was
shed for the priesthood as well as the people — I know in whom I have believed
— when He shall appear, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He
• Dana's Fun. Serm.— Felt's Hist, of Salem.
32 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
i.s. Tais is all my salvation and all my desire — I am satisfied — T can say,
Thy will be done," .He died .1 niunry 18, 1826, in the soventy-sixth j-ear
of his ago, and the fifty-fourth of his ministry ; having outlived all who
were members of his church at his settlement, with the exception of two
females. His funeral sermon was preached, at his own request, by the Rev.
Samuel Dana of Marblehcad, and was published.
Dr. ^V^adsworth was twice married. His first wife was Mary Hobson of
Rowley, by whom he had two children, — both daughters. The eldest
daughter was married to the Rev. William Balch, who was born at Danvers,
January 17, 1775; entered Harvard College, but did not graduate; was
ordained pastor of the Second church in Salisbury, Mass., November 17,
1802; resigned his charge May 20, 1816; was settled at Salem, N. H.,
December 1, 1 819, and died at Dedham, Mass., in 18-12. The other daughter
was married to the Hon. John Ruggles of Milton. The first Mrs. Wads-
worth died, March 16, 1798. His second wife was Mary Games of Lynn,
Mass., who died about 1846. There were no children by this marriage.
The following is a list of Dr. Wadsworth's publications : — A Sermon at
the ordination of Josiah Badcock,* 1782. America invited to praise the
Lord: Thanksgiving Sermon, 1795. A Thanksgiving Sermon, 1796
Eulogy on Washington, 1800. A Dedication Sermon, 1807. A Sermon
before the Bible Society of Salem and its vicinity, 1815. A Sermon before
a Society for the Suppression of Intemperance, 1815. A Sermon at the
nstallation of Rev. Moses Dow,t 1815. A Sermon at the interment of ■ ••
Hon. Samuel Ilolten, 1816.
FROM THE HON. SAMUEL PUTNAM,
JUDGE OF THE SUPREME COURT OF MASSACHUSETTS.
Boston, January 29, 1851.
My dear Sir: I regret that I have delayed so long to comply with your request,
but I have the apology of eighty-two years to oifer, and a belief that some other
friend would have performed more to your satisfaction the service you have asked
of me.
I was prepared for College at Phillips Academy, Andover, under the tuition of
Dr. Pearson; but, before I joined that institution, Avhich was in the winter of
1780, I had been for a short time under the instruction of Dr. Wadsworth. His
dwelling was about a mile from my father's, in the North parish of Danvers,
formerly known as the Salem village. My father was a deacon in his church, and
1 suppose that I knew Dr. Wadsworth as well as a boy of twelve years old couUl
know one, who seemed to be so venerable and altogether so much above him.
I used to attend his Catechisings from the Westminster Assembly's Shorter
Catechism, which I learned bjj^ heart; and if the exercise did me no good, I cer-
tainly cannot attribute the failure to my instructor, for he performed his part
faithfully, as I have not forgotten it to this day.
I knew him somewhat intimately, — attending upon his ministrations when at
home, until I was admitted to the bar in Salem, in the county of Essex, in July,
1790. There I became a member of Dr. Barnard's church, where the ministerial
tax was assessed on the pews; but, from the high regard which I bore for Dr
• JcsiAH Badcock was born at Milton, Ma.ss., in 1752 ; was graduated at Harvard College in
1772; was ordained at Andover, N. II., April .".0, 1782; was dismissed July 1."?, 1809; and died
December 9, 1831, aged eighty.
t Mo-SES Dow was born in Atkinson, N. 11., February 4, 1771; wa.s graduated at Dartmouth
College in 1796; was ordained pastor of the Second church in Beverly, March 18, 1801; was
dismissed April 1, 1813; was installed at York, Maine, November 9, 1815; resigned hia
charge February 17, 1830; and died at Plaistow, N. H., in 1837, aged sixty-six. He pub-
lished a Funeral Serraon, 1807; a Fast Sermon, 1812; a Farewell Sermon, 1813.
BENJAMIN TVADSTTORTH. 33
Wadsworth, I continued to pay my tax to him also. The argumcntum ad era
menam seldom fails, and in this case assigns the true reason; for I discontinued
the double tax, upon Dr. Wadsworth's decease. I need not say, therefore, that
he always commanded my respect and reverence.
His appearance represented a gentleman of great bodil}- vigour. His limbs
were finely proportioned; he was about five feet, ten inches in height, with a hand-
some and florid countenance, which indicated much exposure to the open air, and
none of the debility which so frequently happens to literary men.
And this was to be expected; for, during his long ministry, he visited his
parishioners familiarly, giving them advice as to the things that make for peace,
and were expedient. And being a man of consummate prudence, he kept his
large parish together and in harmony, which is now divided into half a dozen or
more reUgious Societies. In my judgment, he should be commemorated as a
model for a country clergyman.
His out-door engagements would occupy much of the time which, by the
requirements of the present day, is devoted to study. The moderns gain in learn-
ing, but at the expense of the health, and the sacrifice of the familiar and friendly
intercourse of the pastor. Dr. Wadsworth was essentially a practical man : he
was not only the spiritual guide, but, to a considerable degree, the temporal
adviser, of his parishioners; and he knew men and things so well as to command
the respect and confidence of all.
He was uniformly in the open exercise of Federal policy; but in a manner that
gave no offence, — as he did every thing under the control of a just and well-regu-
lated mind.
He managed his pecuniary concerns very carefully; and, considering his hmited
means, accumulated a large estate. These were somewhat increased by presents
from his parishioners, who were mostly good farmers. I well remember that my
liither, who was one of them, took both pride and pleasure in giving the best piece
to the minister.
His style of preaching, I used to think, was deficient in simplicity; and,
though clear enough to a cultivated mind, was somewhat above the comprehension
of the mass of his hearers. And he read his sermons rapidly, keeping his eyes
fixed upon his manuscript; and what he had prepared carefully, would have
appeared much better, if he had taken due pains in the delivery of it.
Of his published sermons, which were not numerous, that upon the character
of Dr. Holten, his parishioner and near neighbour, is a good specimen. It con-
tains a pretty full account of the great number of oflices which that gentleman
had held, and is, on the whole, a very f;iir and faithful tribute to his memory.
He was classed among Calvinists, and I think was universally respected by his
brethren in the ministry. Though he preached his own peculiar views, he did not
urge doctrines at the expense of neglecting practical duties. He used to exchange
pulpits with Dr. Barnard and Dr. Prince of Salem, and other gentlemen whose
religious opinions were not fully in accordance with his own. His manners were
courteous, his disposition cheerful, and his feelings, so far as I know, catholic and
charitable. Indeed if I were to begin my life anew, I could say, with great sin-
cerity,— " Commend me to such a minister as was Benjamin Wadsworth."
Dr. Wadsworth occupied the same parsonage that Mr. Paris did in the calami-
tous year of 1692; and I believe that, if that gentleman had possessed the vigour,
courage, common sense, and discretion, of Dr. W., he would have crushed in
limine the fraud and delusion of the pretended witchcraft, which commenced in
that very parsonage.
I fear that I have extended my remarks beyond your limits; but I put you at
perfect liberty on that score to strike out ad libitum, always taking care, how-
ever, to do no greater injustice to my old friend than has been done by, dear Sir,
Your obedient servant,
. SAMUEL PUTNAM.
Vol. 11. . -^5
34 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
NATHAN STRONG, D. D *
1772—1816.
Nathan Strong was born in Coventry, Conn., October 16, 1748. He
was a descendant in the fourth generation from John Strong, who came
from England to this country in 1630 ; and, after sojourning successively
at Dorchester, Mass., and Windsor, Conn., settled at Northampton, Mass.,
in 1659, was the first lluliug Elder of the church in that place, and died
in 1699, at a very advanced age. His father was the Rev. Nathan
Strong, a native of Woodbury, Conn., who graduated at Yale College in
1742; studied Theology under the llev. John Graham of Southbury; was
ordained pastor of the Second church in Coventry, October 9, 1745 ; and
died October 19, 1793, in the sixty-eighth year of his age. His mother
was the daughter of the llev. Joseph Mcaeham, minister of the First church
in Coventry.
Not much is known of his history, previous to his becoming a graduate
of Yale College in 1769, a little before the completion of his twenty-first
year. He belonged to a class conspicuous for illustrious names, and yet he
graduated with the highest honour ; though the Faculty considered him and
Dwight (afterwards President of the College) upon an equality, and gave
him the precedence only in consideration of his superior age. President
Stiles is said to have pronounced him (doubtless taking into view the fact
of his being a young man) " the most universal scholar he ever knew."
His first permanent religious impressions date back to a season of special
interest in his father's congregation, about the time of his entering College.
It does not appear, however, that he originally contemplated the ministry
as a profession, — for we find him engaged, for some time after leaving Col-
lege, in the study of law ; but he ultimately changed his purpose, and, after
a brief course of theological reading, was licensed to preach.
In 1772 and 1773 he was a Tutor in Yale College; and, during this
period, there were various applications made to him from important vacant
churches at a distance, all of which, however, he declined. The First
church in Hartford, having become vacant by the death of the Rev. Edward
Dorr, put in requisition his services as a candidate, in the autumn of 1773;
and on the 5th of January succeeding, — the previous arrangements having
been made, — he was duly constituted their pastor. The sermon on the
occasion was preached by his father, from 2 Timothy iv. 4, and was
published.
Mr. Strong was scarcely settled in the ministry before the war broke out,
which, in its issue, gave us our independence. His energies were all
enlisted in his country's cause ; and every service that he could render her,
he did render promptly and cheerfully. For some time he served in the
capacity of Chaplain. His vigorous pen was often at work in endeavouring
to vindicate the country's rights, and to quicken the public pulse to a higher
tone of patriotism ; and many of the papers which he produced at that time,
are said to have teemed with the brightest and noblest thoughts. He pub-
lished many valuable articles in relation to the state of the times, subse-
* Perkins' Fun. Serm. — Thomas Williams' Cent. Serm.
NATHAN STRONG. 35
quently to this ; — especially a scries of about twenty, designed to aid in
harmonizing public sentiment and action in respect to the adoption of the
Federal Constitution. He was always an inflexible patriot, — ready alike
with his tongue and his pen to do good service for his country, as occasion
required or opportunity offered.
In the earlier periods of his ministry, Mr. Strong was sometimes not a
little embarrassed in his pecuniary concerns. He was settled upon a salary
of one hundred and thirty pounds ; but, in consequence of the depreciation
of the currency incident to the times, and some other circumstances, he
failed, from time to time, of receiving his dues, until the parish had become
indebted to him some six hundred pounds. A portion of the congregation
seemed inclined to evade the obligation ; but the late Chief Justice Ells-
worth, who then belonged to that parish, being present at the meeting at
which the subject was agitated, took decided ground in favour of the pay-
ment of tho debt ; and the meeting being convinced by his arguments,
immediately adopted measures to secure the desired end. It was probably
in consequence of the inconvenience to which he was subjected from the
insufficiency and uncertainty of his support, that he was led, at a subse-
quent period, to invest his portion of his father's estate in a mercantile
establishment. This false step (for such it undoubtedly was) was the
means of bringing upon him manifold trials: it not only resulted disas-
trously in a pecuniary way, but, for a season, interfered, not a little, with
his usefulness as a Christian minister. In the afflictions which he subse-
quently experienced, he humbly acknowledged a Father's chastening hand.
Mr. Strong was one of those who, towards the close of the last century,
had a primary agency in giving a new direction to the public mind, in respect
to the religious interests of the country and the age. Being fully persuaded
that the theory of revivals which then generally prevailed in the orthodox
churches, was both reasonable and scriptural, he laboured with all his
might, in reliance on God's blessing, to reduce that theory to practice ; and,
at several different periods in the latter part of his ministry, he had the
pleasure to witness the fulfilment of his hearts desire. In 1798-99, was
the most extensive and powerful revival that occurred under his ministry ;
but in 1794, there was a state of things among his -people which issued in
considerable accessions to the church; and in 1808, and a^ain in 1815, a yet
more copious blessing was poured out upon them. On these occasions par-
ticularly, his labours were most abundant ; and no one perhaps knew better
than he how to conduct such a work so that the best result might be obtained
and incidental evils avoided.
In 1796, he sent forth an elaborate Theological Treatise entitled, " The
doctrine of Eternal Misery con^-istent with the Infinite Benevolence of God ;"
in reply to a posthumous work by the Rev. Dr. Joseph Huntington of Coven-
try, Conn., entitled "Calvinism improved &c." In this work Mr. Strong
has taken a wide range of thought, and has evinced a degree of acute
discrimination and familiarity with all the points of the controversy referred
to, which must always give him a high place among the Calvinistic writers
of the country.
In 1798, he published a volume of Sermons, well suited, as they were
specially designed, to give aid and, direction to a revival in its incipient state.
In 1800, he published another volume, of the same general character, — only
adapted to a more advanced stage of a revival. Without the least preten-
3G TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
sion to any thing like studied elegance, these Discourses are written with
uncommon vigour and force of thought, and arc fitted to work with great
power, especially upon the conscience.
In 1799, was published the "Hartford Selection of Hymns;" — a work
projected by Mr. Strong, and executed principally, though not exclusively,
by him. It was a popular compilation in its day, and several of the best
hymns contained in it were from his own pen.
In 1800, commenced the " Connecticut Evangelical Magazine." This
too he originated, and in a great measure sustained ; though he had the
aid of many influential clergymen in diflerent parts of the State. It was
continued in a first and second series, during a period of fifteen years.
This work has been highly prized, not only for the amount of excellent
doctrinal and practical instruction which it contains, but especially for its
recoi'd of the numerous revivals of religion, by which that period was dis-
tinguished.
It may be doubted whether he ever rendered a more important service to
the church or to the country, than in the part which ho took in establishing
and sustaining the Connecticut Missionary Society. He had a primary
agency, not only in its organization in 1798, but in the direction of its move-
ments till the year 1806 ; and his usefulness in this department is to bo
estimated by the vast amount of spiritual blessing which this institution has
ever since been diffusing over the land.
In 1801, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the
College of New Jersey.
His domestic life had its full share of bereavement and solitude. He was
married in 1777 to the eldest daughter of Dr. Solomon Smith, a respectable
apothecary of Hartford. She died, leaving two children, in 1784. In 1787,
he was married to Anna M'Curdy of Lyme, who died within less than two
years after her marriage, leaving an infant son, whom he named John
M^Curdy. During the rest of his life, — a period of nearly twenty-seven
years, he lived a widower. The child of his second marriage, after having
graduated with high reputation at Yale College, in 1806, and entered upon
the study of the Law under Lieut. Governor Goodrich, was thrown from his
horse, in an attempt to t;ross the ferry at Hartford, and was drowned.
Some months previous to his death, Dr. Strong was brought by a severe
illness to the margin of the grave. IJut, contrary to his own expectations
and those of his friends, he recovered strength ere long to resume his
accustomed duties ; though, from that time, it became evident to all that his
course was nearly finished. Beside the bodily infirmities that were cluster-
ing upon him, there was a tenderness and mellowness of Christian feeling,
and an entire devotedness to the interests of the world to come, that seemed
to indicate that he would soon have his summons to depart. But one Sab-
bath intervened between the close of his public ministrations and his death ;
and on that Sabbath, both his discourses had direct reference to the scenes
in which he was so soon to mingle.
The illness that immediately caused his death was brief, but painful. His
mind remained unclouded to the last, and his faith clung to the promises of
the Gospel with an unyielding tenacity. In conversation with a friend, just
before his departure, concerning the darkness that hangs over the future
world, he remarked, — " But I trust I am going where God is, and that is
all I desire." He died on the 25th of December, 1816, in the sixty-ninth
NATHAN STRONG. 37
year of his age, and the forty-third of his ministry. A sermon was preached
at his funeral by the Ilev. Dr. Perkins of West Hartford, and was published.
Besides the several works mentioned above, Dr. Strong published the
following:— A Sermon at the execution of Moses Dunbar, 1777. A Sermon
at the ordination of Joseph Strong, 1778. An Election Sermon,. 1790. A
Sermon at the ordination of Ichabod L. Skinner,* 1794. A Sermon at the
execution of Richard Doane, 1797. A Thanksgiving Sermon, 1797. A
Discourse on the death of Washington, 1799. A Sermon on the death of
Mrs. Sarah Williams, 1800. A Thanksgiving Sermon, 1800. A Century
Sermon, 1801. A Sermon on the death of the Rev. Charles Backus, .D. D.,
1804. A Sermon at the funeral of the Rev. James Cogswell, D. D., 1807.
A Sermon at the Consecration of the new Brick church in Hartford, 1807.
A Discourse before the Hartford Female Beneficent Society, 1809. A
Sermon on the Mutability of human life, 1811. A Sermon on the use of
time, 1813. A Sermon at the funeral of the Hon. Chauncey Goodrich, 1815.
FROM THE REV. THOMAS 'ROBBINS, D. D.
Hartford, December 16, 1847.
My dear Sir: Dr. Strong was, for many years, my neighbour and intimate
friend. I had an opportunity of observing him under various circumstances, and
in different relations; and there is perhaps no man who has departed, in respect
to whose character I have a more definite and well considered opinion. The
reverence which I bear for his memory renders it only a labour of love for me
to comply with your request by furnishing you some of my many recollections
concerning him.
As a man of intellect, I set him down as belonging to the very first class. He
seemed to me never to get to his limit. Judge Daggett has lately told me that the
late Chief Justice jNIitchell, who was his Tutor in College, pronounced him a man
of the greatest original powers of mind he ever knew. He had the most perfect
command of all his faculties. When writing on a most critical, profound, or
solemn subject, he would leave it, at any time, for business or relaxation, and
return to it, and take up the train of thought without the least apparent embar-
rassment. He wrote with great rapidity, and usually depended on his first
thoughts. On this account, most of his printed works bear marks of haste, and
are no doubt less perfect, as compositions, than they Avould have been, if he had
subjected them to a careful revision. But a small portion of his work entitled
"Benevolence and Misery," was written, when the printing began; but the
manuscript was constantly supplied, as it was called for.
He was a great economist of time. He was habitually an early riser; and all
the hours that could be spared from the active duties of his profession and other
necessary engagements, were sacredly devoted to study. By this incessant appli-
cation, he not only became eminent as a Divine, but was possessed of extensive
and varied erudition. His memory was at once minute and retentive, in an extra-
ordinary degree. Such was his original power of investigation that it seemed
necessary to give him only a single hint on a subject, to his working it out, by an
independent process, in all its various ramifications. And for nothing perhaps
was he more distinguished tlian his almost intuitive insight into the human charac-
ter. It was this particularlj^, in connection with his sound judgment, that gave
him an influence, which to many appeared wholly unaccountable, and enabled him
* Ichabod Lord Skinner was bom in Marlborough, Conn.; was graduated at Yale College
in 1793; was ordained as colleague pastor with the Rev. Nathan Strong, Senior, at Coventry,
October 23, 1794; was dismissed October 10, 1798; went into civil life; spent his latter year*
at Washington, D. C. ; and died in 1852.
38 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
to realize most of his e.\'])cctations. I Mill only add, in respect to Lis high Intel
lectual character, that the most eminent men of his day, and tliose who had the
best opportunity of judging of his powers, — such as Judge Trumbull, Doctors
Bellamy, (ioodricli, Smalley, Edwards, Dwight, and many others, fully sustained
the representation that 1 have given of him.
In Tiieology, as on every other subject, he would call no man master, but formed
his opinions by a careful study of God's word. Nevertheless, he did not think
it necessary to his independence that he should needlessly dissent from others;
and he was glad to concur with them as far as he could. He was not fond of
oral discussion; being, in this respect, like President Edwards the elder, but quite
the opposite of President Edwards the younger. During a time of revival, Dr.
Edwards, being at Hartford Avith Dr. Strong, said to him with much emotion, —
" Why do tlie influences of the Holy Spirit attend your preaching so much more
than mine; when our congregations are so much alike, and we preach the same
system of trutli ?" Said Dr. Strong, — " The reason is that you present Gos^jel truth
as a proposition to be proved, and go on and prove it; whereas /endeavour to
exhibit it as something already admitted, and to impress it upon the heart and
conscience." I should think that the most striking peculiarity of his preaching
consisted in direct, concise, and effective statements of the doctrines and precepts
of the Gospel.
He was eminently devoted to the interests of his flock. In seasons of revival
cspeciallj^ he laboured with the utmost fervour and assiduity. His house was
always open for religious meetings, and his study always accessible to serious
inquirers. It was not uncommon for him, at these seasons, to preach four or five
times a week; and there is little doubt that, during the last four j'ears of his life,
he preached a greater number of sermons than any other settled minister in the
State. When the last revival under his ministry commenced, and he became fully
satisfied that the Holy Spirit was in the midst of his congregation, his mind was
so much agitated with alternate fears and hopes for a fortnight, that he did not, —
as he stated to a friend, have an hour of uninterrupted sleep at a time.
Dr. Strong exerted a comnianding influence in a deliberative body. He was
accustomed to make himself thoroughly acquainted with every difficult question
that came up, and it was seldom that an oi)inion contrary to his own prevailed.
He would fasten at once on the main points of a question, however involved, and
by a few sentences would relieve it from all difficulty, and throw it into the light
of noonday.
With all his constitutional cheerfulness, approaching, — it must be acknowledged,
too near to levity, he had still a deeply spiritual mind. I remember to have been
present on one occasion, when a neighbouring minister put to him the question, —
" Are you ready to go yet ?" and he replied, — " Yes, to-morrow, if God pleases;"
but, after a brief pause, he added, — "if God will do with me as He docs some-
times, I am ready." In seasons of revival he seemed desirous to keep himself
out of view as much as possible, that God might be all in all. In times of trouble,
he manifested a truly submissive spirit; and appeared chiefly concerned that his
alllictions might make him a better Christian and a more devoted minister. One
of the greatest trials of his life was the loss of his second son, who was droAvned
in Connecticut river. Various circumstances con.<!j)ired to give to that affliction an
unwonted sting. But he conducted in a most l)ecoining manner, fixing his mind
firmly on the appointment of God. He refused to be informed of the particular
circumstances of the event. But I suppose he never crossed Connecticut river
after this occurrence. Several years after, he inquired of me about the bridge and
causeAvay, in a time of high Avater, and said he had never seen them. The bridge
AA'as built shortly after his .son's death.
Hoping that the above reminiscences may avail to your purpose, I am as ever,
sincerely yours,
THOMAS ROBBINS.
NATHAN STRONG. 39
FROM THE REV. DANIEL WALDO.
Geddes, November 7, 1851.
My dear Sir: Dr. Strong was so remarkable a man, and his memory is still so
fresh, that you can hardly need any of my recollections concerning him; and yet,
since you request it, I am willing to write out for you what most readily occurs to
me. I knew him first at Hartford, when I was preaching as a candidate in the
year 1790. Soon after that, I became a member of the same Association of minis-
ters with him, and our relations were somewhat intimate from that time till
his death.
The first thing that would impress you on being brought into Dr. Strong's pre-
sence, was that he was intellectually an extraordinary man. Such a counten-
ance and such an eye as he had, you would say, could never be associated with
mental inferiority or mediocritj^ And when he spoke, your first impression would
be confirmed — no matter what might be the subject, his words were full of perti-
nence and power. He could wield a sledge hammer, and knock a man down at a
blow; or he could use a surgeon's knife so delicately and skilfully, that it would
do fearful work, before the subject on which it was operating had begun to
suspect what was going forward. His propensity for fun was so inveterate
that he often did not control it, even when circumstances seemed actually to
forbid its indulgence. Those who were not afraid of the tongues of other men,
usually counted the cost before bringing themselves very closely in contact with
his. David Daggett was attending Court, or the Legislature, at Hartford, and
one Saturday afternoon, on going into Hudson & Goodwin's book-store, found Dr.
Strong there; and he jocosely said to him — " Well, Doctor, I think I shall go over
to East Hartford and hear Mr. Yates to-morrow — I do not think we can expect
much from you, from seeing you away from your study Saturday afternoon."
"That's right," said Dr. Strong, "I advise you to go, Sir; for I am going to
preach to Christians to-morrow." Col. Dyer of Windham, who had served as
Judge for a number of years, had been dropped from his office by the Legislature.
He happened to be at Hartford at the next session of the Court, and was standing
in the lobby with several others, who had been similarly treated, as Dr. Strong
came out, after having prayed at the opening of the Court. Said Judge Dyer,
''Why don't you pray for us too?" "I don't pray for the dead," said Dr.
Strong. He was unusually negligent in respect to his personal appearance,
and certainly was not the most refined in all his habits. Adverting once, in con-
versation with one of his neighbours, to this feature of his character, he said to
him — " What would people be likely to think of me, who should judge me only
by my appearance .'" " They would think," answered the neighbour, " that you
had come into town with a drove of horses."
You can scared j- imagine a greater contrast than Dr. Strong's appearance present-
ed in the pulpit and out of it. The moment he crossed the threshold of the Sanc-
tuary, he became as solemn as eternitj^ I never heard of his uttering a word in the
pulpit, that was in the least inconsistent with his character as a minister, or with
the decorum that belongs to the place. His sermons were short, but clear, strong,
and pithy. Not a few of his thoughts were strikingly original. His manner was
aarnest and deeply impressive; his countenance spoke as well as his lips; but I
think he rarely, if ever, moved a hand. He had great facility at extemporizing;
and I have heard him say that he used sometimes, in order to save appearances
with his people, to lay one sermon before him and turn over the leaves, while he
was preaching another that he had not written. When he actually read his manu-
script, it was with so much freedom that it would scarcely have disturbed the most
scrupulous objector to the use of notes. His sermons, like every thing that he
wrote, were in an insufferably bad hand; and I have been told that, instead of
being able to help the printer make out his manuscript, he was actually obliged
sometimes to call in the printer's aid to enable him to decipher it himself.
4Q TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Dr. Strong was of a remarkably dark complexion. On a certain occasion,
Sampson Occum, the celebrated Indian jireacher, had agreed to preach for Dr.
Edwards at New Haven, but failed to fullil the appointment. Dr. Strong, being
at hand, was put in requisition; and, however the preachers might have differed in
other respects, they were not strikingly different in the hue of their foces. An
eccentric fellow who wished to make fun at tlic Doctor's expense, took his seat at
the door of the church, and kept saying audibly to the passers by, as if they were
really listening to Occum, — " See how the black dog lays it down."
You would have supposed that Dr. Strong's j^assion for the humorous and
jocose would have interfered materially with his usefulness as a minister. So no
doubt it did; and yot, — owing to the great amount of counteracting influence, —
not so much as might have been expected. In his later years particularly, though
his wit never left him, it was more chastened and restrained, while the general
habit of his mind evidently became more spiritual and solemn. Few men in New
England had, during the period in which he lived, so much influence as he. Not
a few feared his sarcasms; those who knew him best, appreciated most highly his
virtues; while the whole comnmnity awarded to him the honour of being one of the
noblest specimens of human intellect.
Yours faithfully,
DANIEL WALDO.
FROM MRS. L. H. SISOURNEY.
Haktford, November 22, 1848.
My dear Sir: I have had pleasure in recalling, at your request, a few remini-
scences of that distinguished and venerable man, the late Rev. Dr. Nathan Strong.
I first saw him while attending school in Hartford, in my early years. The
acquaintance was then restricted to hearing him from the pulpit on Sundays, and
occasionally in the more familiar services in his conference room, during the week.
My judgment, at that period, cannot be supposed to have been very critical, but
coincided with the impression common to all who listened attentively, — deep admi-
ration of the force and simplicity of his manner, the conciseness and iiuency of his
style. He had the abilitj^ of sustaining a great weight of labour, without appa-
rent fatigue. He was not often relieved by exchanges on Sunday, and was in the
habit of preaching twice on that day, and again in the evening at his Conference
room, as well as on the evenings of Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, during the
week. The sermons at the latter place were extemporaneous, and more eloquent
and modified by feeling than his studied discourses.
When afterwards engaged as an instructress of young ladies in the same city,
I was favoured with somewhat more of personal acquaintance. This, however,
was but slight, as he never visited, except when his ministerial services were defi-
nitely required; and his own time was held too valuable by his people to be broken
in upon, for the common uses of society.
On account of nearness of sight, or dimness, which might have been the effect
of advanced years, he was usually attended, at his evening lectures, by a boy
carrying a lantern. I remember a few occasions when I was invited to "walk
home by his light," — my residence being near his own, at the hospitable mansion
of the late Madam Wadsworth, where now stands the " Wadsworth Athenaeum."
These attentions from so revered a man were prized as tlicy ought to have been, and
but for them I never could have known his remarkable powers of conversation.
He seemed pleased to unbend his mind by narrative or varied remark, showing the
fulness of his resources and his knowledge of human nature. As his only brother,
the Rev. Dr. Joseph Strong of Norwich, had been my neighbour and pastor from
infancy, there were many inquiries flowing from these circumstances, that relieved
the embarrassment of a young stranger in the presence of one so distinguished.
His maxims seemed to me worthy to be written in letters of gold, yet some-
NATHAN STRONG. 41
times the flow of his humour, a flash of his native uncontrollable wit, would
burst forth, until I lost in it, and not without regret, some portion of the impres-
sions which the solemnity of the sermon, so recently from his lips, had created.
In his last sickness, which was not long, I once saw him. He was pallid and
exhausted, but his smile was sweeter than any I had seen him wear in health.
Faith in him seemed almost changed to sight. " Death," he said, " is to me but
as going into the next room; and to that next room most of my friends have
already gone, — many more than are here among the living."
I would, my dear Sir, that my recollections of that great and good man were
more numerous and worthy of your acceptance; but such as they are it gives me
great pleasure to contribute them in aid of an object so worthy as your request
contemplates. Yours respectfully,
L. H. SIGOURNEY.
The Rev. Dr. Joseph Strong of Norwich was a younger brother of Dr.
Nathan Strong. He was graduated at Yale College in 1772 ; was settled
at Norwich, as a colleague with Dr. Lord, March 18, 1778; was married^
soon after his ordination, to Mary, daughter of the Hon. Jabez Huntington;
received the Rev. Cornelius B. Everest as a colleague in 1829 ; and died
on the 18th of December, 1834, aged eighty-one, — in the fifty-seventh year
of his ministry. He received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the
College of New Jersey in 1807 ; and was a member of the Corporation of
Yale College from 1808 till 1826. He published a Sermon at the funeral
of Governor Huntington, 1796 ; a Sermon on the death of Washington,
1799; a Sermon on the death of Dr. Joshua Lathrop, 1808 ; a Sermon at
the funeral of the Rev. Jonathan Murdock,* 1813; a Sermon at the funeral
of the Rev. Asahcl Hooker, 1813. Miss Caulkins in her History of Nor-
wich, says of him, — " He was distinguished for the benevolence of his
disposition, and the fervency and solemnity of his prayers. In social
intercourse he exhibited the manners of the gentleman, and the character
of the Christian." I had the pleasxire of visiting Dr. Strong at his own
bouse in 1824, and was 2;reatly impressed by his bland and winning manner,
and the rich stores of information which he seemed to possess, illustrative of
the olden time, lie was a large and well formed person, and had a more
than commonly dignified expression of countenance.
* Jonathan Murdock was a son of the Hon. Judge Murdock, and was born at or near Say-
brook, Conn.; was graduated at Yale College in 17(56; was settled for a number of years a«
pastor of the church in Rye, N. Y. ; was installed pastor of the church in Bozrah, Conn., Octo-
ber 12, 1786; and died January 16, 1813, in his sixty-seventh year.
Vol. II. G
42 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
JONATHAN FRENCH *
1772—1809.
Jonathan French, the son of Moses and Esther French, was born at
Braintree, Mass., January 30, 1740. His father was a farmer; and until
he (the son) was seventeen years old, he remained at home labouring on the
farm. At that period (March, 1757) he enlisted as a soldier in the army
employed against the French and Indians, and repaired to Fort Edward.
After a few months he took the small pox, and then the fever and ague,
which so far disabled him for active service that he obtained a discharge
and returned home.
Not long after his return, his health was so far restored that he was able
to take his place again in the army, and he was now stationed at Castle
William in the capacity of a Sergeant. During his residence here, his life
was twice in imminent jeopardy ; once, from an Indian, who attempted to
kill him, in consequence of his having refused to give him rum, when he
was already intoxicated ; and once, from an attempt to confine an Indian
prisoner, who had succeeded in making his escape. Hero also he was
honoured with the acquaintance of many literary and other respectable
characters from Boston and its vicinity ; and he made good use of the advan-
tages thereby secured to him. He had a natural fondness for mathematical
studies ; but his attention was now directed chiefly to medicine and surgery,
with the expectation of making this his profession for life. So rapid was
his progress in this department, that several eminent physicians of his
acquaintance expressed the most confident conviction of his success, and
very decidedly encouraged him to carry out his purpose ; but. subsequently
to this, in consequence chiefly of the profi"ered aid of some of his friends, he
found reason to change his mind, and resolved on obtaining a collegiate
education. The Chaplains at the Castle assisted him in his preparatory
studies, and several other gentlemen, particularly a son of Governor Bernard,
furnished him with the necessary books. He remained at the Castle till he
was ready to enter College. On the last day of his service at the garrison,
(17G7,) he gave up his sword to his successor in token of surrendering his
commission, repaired to Harvard College, and in the evening of the same
day, rung the bell as Butler's freshman.
Mr. French was considerably advanced in years when he entered College,
and through his whole course enjoyed, in an uncommon degree, the confi-
dence and good will of both his instructors and fellow students. He was
distinguished for diligence in study, for punctuality in the discharge of his
various duties, and for a correct and manly deportment ; and he was never,
in a single in:>tance, subjected either to fine or censure, during his whole
College life-
He was graduated in 1771, but he still remained at Cambridge, devoting
himself to the study of Theology and residing in the family of the widow of
the then late President Holyoke. It had been his purpose to spend his life
as a missionary among the Indians ; but, after he was licensed to preach,
there were influences brought to bear upon him, which led him to change his
• Christian's Magazine, III. — Alden's Epitaphs, II.
JONATHAN FRENCH. 43
purpose. He soon accepted an invitation from the South parish of Andover,
to preach as a candidate in the pulpit then recently rendered vacant by the
death of the Rev. Samuel Phillips. After preaching during the usual period
of probation, he was unanimously invited to settle in the ministry, and was
ordained September 22, 1772.
Here Mr. French continued in the laborious and faithful discharge of his
duties during the rest of his life. He died suddenly of a paralytic affection,
July 28, 1809, in the seventieth year of his age, and thirty-seventh of his
ministry. Dr. GriiEn, then Professor at Andover, prayed with him a short
time before his departure, for which he expressed his thanks, not without
great diificulty of utterance, and then gently passed awa}'. The Ptev. Mr.
Stone of Reading preached his funeral sei'uion from John XIV. 28.
Mr. French was married, August 26, 1773, to Abigail, daughter of Dr.
Benjamin Richards of Weymouth, Mass. She died August, 1821, aged
seventy-nine. His children were Abigail, born May 29, 1776, — wife of
the Rev. Samuel Stearns of Bedford ; Jonathan, born 16th of August, 1778,
graduated at Harvard College in 1798, and settled in the ministry at North-
Hampton, N. H. ; and MarT/ Holyoke, born August, 1781, wife of the Rev.
Ebenezer P. Sperry of Wenham.
The following is a list of Mr. French's publications : — A Sermon against
Extortion, 1777. A Sermon at the ordination of Daniel Oliver,* 1787.
A Sermon at the ordination of Abiel Abbot, 1795. A Sermon at the Gen-
eral Election, 1796. A Sermon at the Anniversary Thanksgiving, 1798.
A Sermon at the ordination of James Kendall, 18U0. A Sermon at the
ordination of his son, 1801. An Evening Lecture at Portsmouth, 1805.
A Charge at the ordination of Professor Pearson, 1808.
FRO.U THE REV. MICAH STONE.
Beookfield, Mass., May 28, 1852.
My dear Sir : Notwithstanding I passed two pleasant years as a boarder in the
Rev. Mr. French's family, and was not unfrequently a visitant at his house, yet
it was in early life, when I was but poorly qualified to make discriminating obser-
vations in respect to either Christian or ministerial character. But my recollec-
tions of him, since you request them, I do not feel willing to withhold; and yet
you will bear in mind that the task which you have prescribed for me carries me
back nearly sixty years.
Mr. French was i-ather short in stature, and inclined to be corpulent; and, as
might be expected, was not remarkable for bodily activity. In his natural dispo-
sition he was cheerful and social, and in his manners easy and familiar. He was
uncommonly accessible and unceremonious; was much at home amongst the memo-
rabilia of the past; had much interesting and useful anecdote at his command; and
conversed intelligently and agreeably upon tlie passing events and ordinary topics
of the da3'. There was so much of friendliness and kindness expressed in his
manner, that those with whom he conversed were quite sure to feel altogether at
their ease. , Though he possessed a full share of sensitiveness, he generally kept
his feeUngs under good control; and if, at any time, they became suddenly too
mach excited, he would not unfrequently retire into liis study and remain until
he had regained full self-possession.
* Daniel Oliver was born in Boston about the year 1754; was graduated at Dartmouth
College in 1 785 ; was ordained pastor of the Second church in Beverly, October 3, 1 787 ; resigned
his charge in August, 1797, after a controversy of several years in regard to the payment of his
salary; and died at lloxbury, September 14, 1840, in the eighty-ninth year of his age.
44 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
In his family he maintained a mild and decisive sway; and, with his estimable
and truly excellent wife, afforded a bright example of Christian piety and order;
of stern rebuke to folly and vice, and of steady encouragement to correct deport-
ment. His house was a seat of hospitality. To every brother in the ministry and
to a large circle of acquaintances, his doors were always open, and every one who
came met with a cordial welcome. His hospitality kept him even upon the look-
out for visitors; and many a nice dinner have 1 seen set aside for a friend who
might chance to call after the regular dining liour was past.
In respect to the theological views of Mr. French, I have this persuasion — that
they were strictly Calvinistic, — more so than those of the Association of ministers
generally with which he was connected; yet there was always maintained a
fraternal harmony and interchange of ministerial acts. In common with most of
his brethren of the Association, he was opposed toHopkinsianism, and particularly
to the dogma that Christian submission supposes that one should be willing to
suffer eternal misery for the glory of God. I do not apprehend, however, that on
this or any other abstruse point, he entered much, if at all, into metaphysical
speculations. He drew his conclusions from what he believed to be the dictates
of common sense, from the plain implications of experience, and the simple word
of God. He was much less a fiibricator or a lover of theories than an investigator
of Bible doctrines, and friend of the old fashioned orthodoxy as taught in the
Assembly's Catechism.
Mr. French was characterized by substantial good sense, rather than by any
brilliant or showy qualities. He was a careful observer of men and things, and
knew well how to secure and retain the confidence and good will of his fellow men,
especially of his own charge, Avithout in the least compromitting any of his obli-
gations. He occupied a conspicuous and important sphere of ministerial service
Avith general approbation and esteem. As a preacher, he maintained a highl}'
respectable rank. His preaching, according to my present impression, was
rather practical than doctrinal; for, though he cordially received the Calvinistic
doctrines, he very rarely went into a particular exposition of them, — much less
attempted any thing like a formal defence. He dwelt upon the principles and
rules of Christian duty; but never, so far as I knoAV, introduced any thing like
philosophical disquisition. His appearance in the jjnlpit was always dignified
and solemn, and quite in harmony with the inspired declaration inscribed on the
wall of the sanctuary above him — "Holiness becometh the House of God forever."
His manner of delivery was exceedingly deliberate, — too much so for the natural
current of men's thoughts. It was a habit into which he fell, from his efforts to
avoid the opposite extreme. He told me that, in the early part of his ministry,
he was inclined to a very rapid utterance; and that, in order to acquire greater
moderation, he used occasionally to write upon the top of some pages of his manu-
script— "a little slower." He possessed excellent qualities as a pastor; and if
he did not captivate his hearers by any remarkable exhibition of eloquence, he
secured their favourable regards by his wisdom, benevolence, and urbanity. He
had, on the whole, a remarkably peaceful and highly favoured ministry.
Believe me truly your friend and brother,
MIC AH STONE.
FROM THE HON. JOSIAH QUINCT, L. L. D.,
PRESIDENT OF HAEVARD COLLEGE.
QuiNCT. October 22, 1855
My dear Sir: Your letter of the 18th requires no apology. The memory of
the Rev. Jonathan French is very precious to me. The few lights I can throw on
his character it will give me pleasure to communicate to any one who takes an
interest in a knowledge of, or in the making more generally known, his virtues.
JONATHAN FRENCH. 45
In early life, his relation to me was only less than parental, and the excellencies of
his character made such an impression on my heart, that its chords, though arid
and unvibratory at an age approximating eighty-four, never cease to give forth, at
his name, grateful reminiscences. My only regret is that, in doing justice to his
memory, I am compelled to speak much of myself. For all my impressions con-
cerning him were results of acts of kindness of which I was the object Personal
experience and observation are the sources of all that I know of him.
1 became a member of his fomily in April or May, 1778, having then just
entered my seventh year, at an age much better suited to the nursery than the
Academy. That, at Andover, was then a new institution, and its success was
deemed somewhat of an experiment. It was desirable to give it an early impetus.
My maternal grandfather was one of its founders; and my mother, a widow,
yielded to his wishes, being taught to believe that it was the place of all others
best suited to give a sound, thorough education to her only child. A main induce-
ment with her to submit to the privation occasioned by this separation, was
the well-known paternal character of Jonathan French. Kind, gentle, watchful,
assiduous, I realized everything in him and in his amiable wife, which my mother
had anticipated. The discipline of the Academy was strict. The Preceptor,
more considerate of the conduct than of the age of his pupils, was a convert to
the fashionable theory of the period, that knowledge was to be driven into the
head wedge-wise. Child as I was, my mind was abroad with my bats and my
marbles. It delighted in the play of the imagination. The abstract and the
abstruse were my utter detestation. The consequences were, that I often came
home to Mr. French in tears, having been either censured or punished. I found
in his bosom a never-failing place of rest for my sorrows and sufterings. He
soothed, supported, and encouraged me. I owe to his goodness much that I
attained, and most that I enjoyed, during the three or four first years of my
residence in his family.
In the year 1780, I wa.? seized with the scarlet fever. The symptoms were
dangerous. Mr. French took me, at once, into his own bed-room, made up a
little cot at his side, and T slept in the same room with him and his wife, until my
recovery was complete. He loved children, and was beloved b)' them in return.
He would take me occasionall}^ to walk with him. In the evening he would give
me a les.son concerning the stars, — their names and position. In the day time he
availed himself of the circumstances or the incidents of the time to impart use-
ful thoughts or instruction. His manners and language to the young were of the
most winning and appropriate kind; nothing studied, nothing forced or far-
fetched. His conversation was the natural out-welling of a good and affectionate
heart, which took delight in the utterance of its own goodness. His acquaintance
with the human heart and its nature was general and deep. He had, in his
youth, been a soldier in the Colonial service; had risen by merit to the rank of a
Sergeant, and being stationed at Castle William, in the harbour of Boston, and
detailed to the charge of the daily boat, which passed between the island and the
town, he availed himself of the opportunity the leisure of his service per'^iitted,
to study the classics and prepare for College, while rowed backwards and for-
wards by tlie crew under his command. In this classical preparation, he had the
aid and encouragement of several of the Boston clergy. By such efforts, he was
enabled to enter the class, which graduated in 1771, at a period of life which
could not, I think, be less than his twenty-fifth year. But of this fact I have no
data. At College he became the class-mate and the acquaintance of Samuel PhiUips,
Jr., the stability of whose character immediatelj^ developed itself; whose deep
religious sentiment, active virtues, and unwearied spirit of enterprise, at once
took the lead in all the afi'airs of Andover, social, moral, political, and religious,
so that he scarcely reached manhood when his weight of character became univer
eally felt in that vicinity, and his influence became without control. Under his
4G TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
auspices, Mr. French was introduced to the pastoral care of the South Parish of
that town, as successor to Samuel Phillips, the grandfather of his patron.
As a pastor he was
Indeed, *' to all the country dear;
And passing rich with Forty Pounds a year."
My residence in Mr. French's family continued for eight years, until the mid-
dle of 178G, including about the last five years of the Revolutionary war, and
the consequent embarrassed state of the country preceding and producing the
troubles connected with Shays' insurrection. In these halcyon days of table
luxuriance, it is impossible to conceive the restrictions in point of food, and the
few comforts which, at that period, we were enabled to command. Frugality was
the necessity of the time and the law of his household. The only bread we tasted
was Indian, or Rye, or a mixture of both. Mr. French, on the Sabbath, had the
special privilege of white, or flour bread, because, as he said, the Rye or Indian
gave him the heart-burn. As he took on that day no other dinner, he justified
himself in indulging in that enviable luxury. Chocolate was the breakfast — our
dinners, pork and beef, with a plentiful allowance of cabbage and all the usual
vegetables farmers cultivate. In the winter, frozen cod came along from the sea-
coast, which, after careful boiling, made a table, of which an Alderman, if there
had been any in that day, might have boasted. Bohea, a tea to modern luxury
almost unknown, was our table resort, with a qualification of milk at supper
time.
Besides the necessary number of silver spoons, Mr. French's plate establish-
ment consisted of a single silver tankard, the ornament of his table and sideboard.
This had been presented to him by the widow of President Holyoke, who was to
Mr. French, clarum ct venerabile nomen. On the tankard was engraved a super-
scription at once historical and illustrative, on which, and the virtues of the donor,
the good man never foiled to dilate with delight, as he presented it to a guest,
filled with cider, the chief beverage of the period.
Mr. French had studied medicine in his youth and made some proficiency in it, —
an attainment which added both to his usefulness and popularity. He united
often the office of physician with that of clergyman ; always taking with him on
his pastoral visits, some of the most common and useful articles of the pharma-
cop(i'ia, and administering, occasionally, corporeal as well as spiritual comforts.
Attentions of this kind tended to increase his popularity and to redound to his
benefit. Accordingly, when winter approached, and farmers began to collect the
produce of their farms, the kindness of the pastor never failed to be reciprocated,
and he had often to suspend as many spare-ribs in his cellar, as it had nails to
hang them on, besides chickens, now and then a turkey, and wild pigeons with-
out number.
Of his qualifications as a clergyman, it does not perhaps belong to me, authori-
tatively, to speak. He was, of course, of the Calvinistic school, according to the
standard of the constitution of Phillips Andover Academy; or of that Avhich is
set fo. M in the Assembly's Shorter Catechism. In doctrine, he therefore harmon-
ized with that school, but in demeanour, example, and kindliness of heart, he
represented much more the tone and mildness of the Arminian school than of that
which he formally professed, and in thi,"! respect his life and manners were in
unison with those of his patron, Samuel PhiUips, jr., and of all the founders of
Andover and Exeter Academics. I have a right to speak upon this point, for T
have been an inmate in the families of William, Samuel, and John Phillips, of
the two former frequently and intimately, of the latter occasionally. And it has
been always a puzzle to my mind how to reconcile the kind, social, and free spirit
of their lives in private, with the rigidness and severit)' of the doctrines of their
faith. I have reason to think that Mr. French was never satisfied with the
attempt to unite Old Calvinism with New Hopkinsiauism in the institution which
JONATHAN FRENCH. 47
now overrides Phillips' Academy. And in this feeling, I cannot douht that he was
in concurrence with all those founders, had they lived to witness the attempt.
There was in Mr. French a latent good humour, effective but not obtrusive.
Of this the following anecdote may be considered an instance : At a meeting of the
Board of Trustees of the Academy, Mr. Adams, its master, petitioned for the
addition of one hundred dollars to his salary, which was already eight hundred.
Dr. Pearson, the President of the Board, opposed it violently. Finding it was
about to be carried, and relying upon the aid of Mr. French, whose restrictive
pecuniary means were known to him, he called on him for his opinion on the
subject. " Well," replied Mr. French, "if I must give my opinion, I am obliged
to say, I am in favour of the grant. I know what living in Andover is. Why,
Sir, I have three hundred and fifty dollars a year, and I cannot live upon that."
This created a laugh through the Board, in which Dr. Pearson joined, and the
grant was voted.
Another anecdote, illustrative of the same point of character, is the following.
The Parish, by the terms of his settlement were bound to find him wood. The
winter was coming on, and they had neglected to furnish it. Experience had
taught Mr. French that a direct complaint of such neglect was not always well
received, nor always brought a readj^ compliance. He waited, therefore, until the
proclamation for Thanksgiving came, and after reading it to the congregation, he
eaid, with great apparent simplicity, " My brethren, you perceive that his Excel-
lency has appointed next Thursdaj' as the day of Thanksgiving; and, according
to custom, it is my purpose to prepare two discourses for that occasion, — provided
I can write them without a fire." The hint took effect, and before twelve
o'clock on the succeeding Monday, his whole winter's wood was in his wood-
yard.
The truth, perhaps, is, that Mr. French was a burning, rather than a shining,
light in the golden candlestick, which made those who think more of the rays
than the heat, more of display than of effective good, to undervalue his power and
his usefulness. But any man, in my judgment, may reasonably hope of receiving
as his final reward the " well-done faithful servant," who has fulfilled his duties
a,s well as did Jonathan French.
I am. Sir, with great respect, yours,
JOSIAH QUmCT.
The following additional communication from Mr. Quincy, which may be
regarded as a Postscript to the preceding letter, was in reply to a request
that he would furnish in writing, what he had frequently been known to
relate in conversation — some account of the reverential and formal observ-
ances of the good people of Andover in primitive times.
It will give me great pleasure to narrate, as you request, all the particulars of
the proceedings at Andover, on Sabbath morning, in times, which we can now
denominate "olden," although in all its details it did not apply to those of Mr.
French, but to those of his immediate predecessor. With the single exception of
that studied mark of reverence to the Pastor, from tlie congregation, the proceed-
ings were nearly or quite the same in the case both of Mr. Phillips, the predecessor,
and of Mr. French.
Mrs. Dowse, my maternal aunt, has often related to me her pride and
delight at visiting at the Rev. Mr. Phillips', her paternal grandfather '.s house,
when a child; which was interesting as a statement of the manners of those early
times in Massachusetts, before tlie sceptre of worldly power, which the fir.st
settlers of the Colony had placed in the hands of the clergy, had been broken. The
period was about between 1760 and the Revolution.
The parsonage at Andover was situated about two or three hundred rods from
the meeting houscj which was three stories high, of immense dimensions, far
48 TRINITARIAN COXGREGATJONAL.
greater, I should think, than those of any meeting houses in these anti-clmrch
l^oing, degenerate times. It was on a hill, slightly elevated above the parsonage,
so that all the flock could see the pastor as he issued from it. Before the time of
service, the congregation graduall}' assembled in early season, coming on foot or
on 1 orseback, the ladies behind tlieir lords, or their brothers, or one another,
on pillions, so that, before the time of service, the whole space before the meeting
Iiouse was filled with a waiting, respectful, and expecting multitude. At the
moment of service, the jiastor i.ssued from his mansion with Bible and manuscript
sermon under his arm, with liis wife leaning on one arm, flanked by his negro
man on his side, as his wife was by her negro woman, the little negroes being
distributed according to their sex, by the side of their respective parents. Tlien
followed every other member of the family according to age and rank, making
often with family visitants somewhat of a formidable procession. As soon as it
appeared, the congregation, as if moved by one spirit, began to move towards the
door of the church, and before the procession readied it, all were in their places.
As soon as the pastor entered the church, the whole congregation rose and stood
until the pastor was in the pulpit and liis family were seated, — until which was
done, the whole assembly continued standing. At the close of the service, the
congregation stood until he and his family had left the church, before any one
moved towards the door. Forenoon and afternoon the same course of proceeding
was had, expressive of the reverential relation in which the people acknowledged
that they stood towards their clergyman.
Such was the account given me by Mrs. Dowse in relation to times previous to
my birth, and which I related as her narrative, and not as a part of my recollec-
tions. The procession from the parsonage, the disappearance of the people on the
appearance of the procession, and that their pastor was received Avith every
external mark of decorum and respect, I well remember; but of their rising at
his entrance and standing after the service until he had departed, I have no recol-
lection. My time was almost twenty years after that narrated by Mrs. Dowse.
During that period the Revolution had commenced. The reverence of early times
was gradually vanishing away towards the point, which at this day, it seems
nearly to have attained, when the sheep no longer follow the shepherd, who is no
longer for life, but at will, and when the shepherd follows the sheep, and is happy
if he can keep all of them in sight, and prevent any of them from straying.
J. Q.
DAVID SANFORD *
1772—1810.
David Sanforb, the third son of Eliliu and Rachel (Strong) Sanford,
was born in New Milford,Conn., December 11, 1737. His father was par-
ticularly a friend of good ministers, and never lost an opportunity of
extending to them hospitality, or confqj^ing upon them favours in any other
way within his ability. He was especially attached to David Brainerd ; and
it was as a tribute of affectionate respect to Brainerd's memory, that he
called his sou David, — hoping that, if his life were spared, he might devote
himself to the work of the minitftry. He did not live, however, to see his
son a minister, or even to witness the completion of his collegiate education.
• Emmons' Fun. Serm. — Hist, of the Mendon Association.
DAVID SANFORD. 49
Mr. Sanford was graduated at Yale College in 1755. Influenced chiefly by a
regard to what he knew had been the wish of his father, he commenced the
study of Theology under the instruction of Dr. Bellamy. But as he soon
became satisfied that he had not the requisite spiritual qualifications for the
ministry, he relinquished the idea of entering the profession. He then
removed to Great Barrington, Mass., where he settled upon a farm. The
Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Samuel Hopkins was then the minister of that town,
and he and Mr. Sanford married sisters. Mr. Sanford occasionally attended
on the preaching of his brother-in-law, but he heard it with the utmost dis-
relish, and indeed had no sympathy with any thing connected with either
doctrinal or vital Christianity. His conscience, however, was ill at ease,
even while he was making his most hostile demonstrations. As an evidence
of the state of his mind at that time, he afterwards related this incident.
While he was at work on his farm, — on removing a log which had become
imbedded in the ground, his attention was directed to a number of animal-
cules,— such as he had rarely, if ever, seen before. As he looked at them
for a moment, he exclaimed with an intense feeling of malignity — "Hopkins
says that nothing was made in vain; and for what were you made?" — and
as he crushed them beneath his feet he added — "There, that is what you
were made for." And then, he said, a voice within answered, — "Yes, they
were made to show forth the enmity of your heart against God."
He was brought frequently in contact with his brother-in-law, Mr. Hop-
kins, in reference to some property which was to be divided between theii
respective wives. As Mr. Hopkins had a high reputation for Christian
meekness, Mr. Sanford determined, if possible, in the course of the negotia-
tion, to disturb his accustomed equanimity, and provoke him to utter words
unworthy of his profession as a Christian minister. And by practising
extreme injustice and insolence towards him, he actually succeeded, and
went ofi" feeling that he had achieved a glorious triumph. But Mr. Hop-
kins' subsequent treatment of him evinced so much kindness, and magna-
nimity, and penitence withal, that it not only led him to relent in respect to
his own conduct, but satisfied him of both the reality and the importance of
experimental religion. From this time, he was earnestly engaged in respect
to his own salvation; and, at no distant period, experienced a change of feel-
ing with which he identified the beginning of his religious life. In due time,
he was admitted to the church, and shortly after was chosen a deacon, though
he did not accept the office.
Mr. Sanford, feeling that the grand obstacle to his entering the ministry
was now removed, again took up the purpose which he had once abandoned,
and that notwithstanding his friends, owing to his peculiar worldly circum-
stances, advised him strongly to the contrary. He returned to the study of
Theology for a while, and in due time was licensed to preach the Gospel.
His friends, as soon as he began to preach, were more than reconciled to
his having made the change ; for his earliest cff"orts gave promise of not
only usefulness, but eminence, in his profession.
He received a call at Medway, (West parish) Mass., on the 28th of
December, 1772 : he accepted it shortly after, and was ordained pastor of
that church, on the 14th of April, 1773. The ordination sermon was
preached by Dr. West of Stockbridge.
Soon after the beginning of the war of the Revolution, Mr. Sanford
served, for a short time, as Chaplain in the army; — an ofiice for which hia
Vol. II. 7
50 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
natural strength of character, and line jortly bearing — to say nothing of
his ardent patriotism — admirably (qualified liim.
For a eonsiderable time after his settlement in the ministry, no remarka-
ble success seemed to attend his labours; but, in the years 1784 and 1785,
there was an extensive and powerful revival of religion iu his congregation,
as the fi'uit of which a large number were added to the church. In later
periods also a manifest blessing attended his labours.
In 1807, lie suffered severely from a stroke of paralysis, from which he
never so far recovered as to be able to resume his public labours. After
about three years of distress and languishment, he died on the 7th of April,
1810, in the seventy-third year of his age. A sermon was preached at his
funeral by his intimate friend and near neighbour. Dr. Enimons.
The only production of Mr. Sanford's pen that I have ever heard of, as
having appeared in print, is Two Dissertations, published in 1810, — one on
'■• the Nature and Constitution of the Law which was given to Adam in Par-
adise ;V the other on "the Scene of Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane.''
Mr. Sanford was mai-ricd on the 4th of August, 1757, to Bathsheba,
daughter of Moses IngersoU, then of Great Barrington. They had ten
children. One of his sons was a lawyer, and one a physician, and two of
las daughters married clergymen.
FROM thp: rev. abner morse.
Sherburne, Mass., July 28, 1852.
Dear Sir: My opportunities of personal acquaintance with the Rev. David
Sanford, were confined to the first seventeen years of my life, which were passed
in his parish. lie was a frequeiit visitor in my father's family, and such was his
appearance and his character, that he could scarcely fiiil to make an impression
oven upon the youthful mind. Besides my own recollections of him, I am in pos-
.sessionof many of the reminiscences of his venerable contemporaries, who survived
him.
Mr. Siinford ^vas of a nervous, bilious temperament. lie v/as of middle stature,
perfectly erect, and his form was remarkably symmetrical, though in advanc^xl
life, he became slightly corpulent, llis forehead was high, broad, and prominent;
his features regular; his gait firm, and even majestic; and when mounted he was
a model among equestrians. His manners were natural and easy, and his whole
personal appearance uncommonly imposing. But that which was perhaps more
remarkable than any thing else about his person, was the wonderfully varied
e.xprcssion of his countenance. I remember to liave heard of an incident strikingly
illustrative of this remark, which was said to have cost him no small degree of
mortification.
During the Revolutionary war, he was called to preach at a place where a com
pany of soldiers had encamped, and whose commander, attracted by his reputa-
tion as a popular speaker, marched his men into the galleries of the meeting house
in wliich Mr. Sanford was to hold his service. While he was speaking, a board
I)y which a shattered window had been replaced, fell, and the exercises were
somewhat interrupted by the noise and confusion of putting it back. By a repeti-
tion of the occurrence, he Avas interrupted a second and a third time, when, rushing
to seize the board, he cried out to the soldiers, — " Let that board alone." The
officer, on retiring, being asked how he liked the preacher, replied — " Pretty
well, but I should have liked him better, if he had not sworn so." "Sworn,
Captain, T heard no oaths." " Yes, he said " (here repeating a tremendous oath)
"let that board alone." " You certainly mistake — he uttered no oath whatever."
"Well," replied the Captain, "if he did not say tlie words, he looked them."
DAVID SANFOKD. gj
Hence, in after life, when liis countenance was perceiveu to indicate dangerous
displeasure, some anxious, good-natured brotlier would tell him not to swear so.
Equally expressive was his countenance of other emotions. The very first thing
I am able to recall, is his smile upon me in my mother's lap, a few days before i
was two years old. His look of compassion also, in expostulating with the impeni-
tent, so imprinted itself upon my memory, that the lapse of forty-five years !i.i.s
done nothing to efface it.
Mr. Sanford possessed other rare gifts for an orator. His voice had great
volume and compass, was uncommonly clear and smooth, and he could modulate-
it to suit any sentiment he uttered, or strike any chord in the human bosom.
His articulation and enunciation could scarcely have admitted of improvement.
In prayer his utterance was rather rapid, but still very impressive. His repeti-
tion of Christ's lament over Jerusalem was sublimely pathetic.
As a preacher, he excelled especially in tracing the windings of the human heart ;
in taking from the hypocrite his mask; in rousing the slumbering conscience, and
quickening the sluggish affections; but I do not think his preaching was distin-
guished for elaborate or very comprehensive views of Divine truth. As a pastor,
he was affectionate in his intercourse, diligent to know the state of his flock, to
catechise the children, and instruct and counsel the young. Mr. Sanford had an
independent mind, and thought for himself on aU subjects. I never heard that he
was suspected, in any instance, of being under the influence of another. When
the two great political parties (Federalists and Democrats) arose, he differed from
naarly all his ministerial brethren, and sided with the Democratic part)^ In
Theology, he was of the same general school with Hopkins and Emmons, yet dis-
sented from both in some of his views of the atonement, and the ijenalty of the
first transgression; maintaining that the former consisted in Christ's obedience
alone, and that only spiritual death was incurred by the latter. Of these views
he was very tenacious; and they were the subject of a good deal of controversy
among theologians of that day. Two years before his death, and after he had
become disabled by a stroke of pals}^, he dictated two Dissertations on these sub-
jects, which were published. This work, — if it docs any justice to his interpre-
tations of Scripture, is devoid of the characteristics of his style.
Mr. Sanford was at once benevolent and patriotic His voice was early lifted
up in favour of resistance to the oppressions of the mother country, and that liis
people miglit bear their proportion of the expenses of the war, he, for a time, gen-
erousl}' relinquished his salar}'^. His name was associated with early attempts to
propagate the Gospel in the new settlements; and every fresh effort that was put
forth for the promotion of Christianity, no matter on Avhich side of the water,
met with his cordial and grateful approval, even though ho were not able more
directly and efficiently to second it.
As a counsellor, he was much sought after by the churches, and was not unfre-
quently called away a great distance to aid in healing ecclesiastical divisions. In the
latter part of his life especially, he almost always presided in the councils of whicli
he was a member.
In any deliberative body he was unavoidabl_y prominent, though it must hi
acknowledged that he did not always appear to advantage. iJeing naturally inflexi-
ble as well as excitable, he would, M^hen satisfied that he was right, maintain his
ground with great warmth, and it was sometimes perilous to encounter him. Dr.
Emmons, his intimate associate and bosom friend, used to tell him that he was
not afraid to take hold with him in private, but dreaded his gripe in public.
Mr. Sanford was sometimes accused of being lacking in courtesy and good
manners. But such is not the testimony of those Avho knew him best. That he
was occasionally blunt and severe was probably owing to his discernment of faults
m individuals, which could be reached by no other weapons. He had a high
standard of orthodoxy and piety, and of ministerial dignity and devotedness; and
r,9 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
when he saw what he deemed gross deficiencies in either, he could not conceal his
disgust, and he used the weapon first wliich others would have used last. Thus,
when a licentiate, with clownish manners, and in a rustic garb, inquired of him
what system of Divinity he would recommend, he replied, — " Lord Chesterfield's
Divinity to yoa." So also to a young preaclier, who, being under a call from
S , assigned as a reason for not accepting it, that there was an extensive pine
swamp in the place, he said, — " Young man, it is none of your business where
God has put his pine swamps." But, notwitlistanding these occasional instances
of severity, his manners certainly were generally those of a gentleman.
Mr. Sanford was reputed a good classical scholar. He maintained his habits of
both study and activity, until the year 1807, when he was struck with the palsy,
while on his knees interceding for his church. Until then his eye was not dim,
nor his natural force abated.
He had great weight of character, and in his own church and parish particu-
larh', his M'ord seems to have been regarded as liaving almost the authority of
law. lie had, however, little to do W'th civil aifairs, and gave himself almost
exclusively to the work of the ministry ; and his profiting appeared in the conver-
sion of many, some of whom still remain as lights in the church.
I am, dear Sir, truly yours,
ABNER MORSE.
FROM THE REV. JOEL HAWES, D. D.
Hartford, November 12, 1852.
Dear Sir; My recollections of the Rev. Mr. Sanford are those of a youth, though
he had a character so strongly marked, that they have scarcely grown less vivid
and distinct from the lapse of years. My early days were spent in his parish;
and I remember him well, not only as he appeared in the pulpit, but as I used to
see him and hear him in other circumstances. The very sight of him was enough
to inspire awe. Indeed I had some experiences of him that produced not only
awe but terror; for I remember his once speaking to me in school, where he had
come as a visitor, with an air of sternness that half frightened mo out of my senses.
Another personal incident, I recollect, which, though it brought out the same
feature in his character, was really of great practical use to me in subsequent life.
1 was at a prayer meeting not long after I hoped that I had felt the power of
religion, and Mr. Sanford called upon me to lead in prayer. I was diffident, and
begged him to excuse me. lie said with a most authoritative air, "Mr. Ilawes,
don't 3'ou ever let me hear you say that again." I obeyed him on the spot, and
in connection with the incident, formed the purpose, to which I was enabled after-
wards to adliere, — not to decline any service that might reasonably be devolved
upon nie.
Mr. Sanford's preaching was altogether without writing, insomuch that I have
reason to doubt whether he ever wrote an entire sermon during his ministry. He
was fluent beyond measure, and not only never wanted for a word, but rarely, if
ever, failed to get the right word. His voice was susceptible of every variety of
inflection, and could wake into a tempest or sink to a zephyr, — could rouse, or
agitate, or melt, with equal ease and without the least apparent effort. His ser
mons were remarkalile rather for the clear and forcible statement of truth, than
for any thing that indicated metaphysical acuteness or strong logic. I once heard
Dr. Emmons say that he had never heard a man preach, who was capable of
making a more powerful impression upon an audience than Mr. Sanford. On
some public occasion, it fell to Mr. Sanford to preach immediately after Mr. N
of A , who was a very able man, and withal had fine pulpit talents. Mr.
N preached with remarkable power, and Mr. Sanford was not a little discom-
forted at the idea of following him. He rose in the pulpit, announced his text,
stammered, and seemed unable to proceed. He apologized to his audience for his
DAVID SANFORD. 53
bad beginning, and begged them to allow him to go back and commence anew.
He did so; but his hesitating manner continued till the audience really began to
drop their heads in anticipation of a mortifying failure. When he had got them
to this point, he made a mighty effort, and swept by Father N , as it was
said, with incomparable majesty, preaching a sermon which filled his audience
with surprise and admiration. It was shrewdlj^ hinted afterwards that there was
some policy in the awkward commencement, and that he purposely let the
audience down as low as he could, for the sake of raising them as high as he
could.
I remember to have heard him relate one incident X)f great interest, in which,
if I mistake not, his religious experience had its beginning. He was a brother-in-
law of Dr. Hopkins, and they both resided at Great Barrington. On one occa-
sion, as they were attending to some matter of business, there was a disagreement
between them, and Dr. Hopkins, in a moment of excitement, spoke to Mr. Sanford
with an unjustifiable severity. Mr. Sanford said that when he heard his ill-
natured remarks, he felt strong, and said within himself, — "This then is an
exhibition of your disinterested benevolence." The next morning, at a very early
hour, he heard a gentle knocking at his door, and who should appear there but
his brother Hopkins, with the most mild and affectionate manner, — his face
shining like an angel. He requested that the family might be assembled, as he
had a communication that he wished to make to them; and when they had come
together, he acknowledged his error of the preceding day, and begged the forgive-
ness, first of Mr. Sanford, and then of every member of his household, taking each
by the hand as he did it. Mr. Sanford said, " Then I felt that he had got his foot
upon my neck; and that taught me the first decisive lesson of the superior excel-
lence of Christianity." Tours affectionately,
J. HAWES.
NATHANIEL PORTER, D. D.*
1772—1837.
Nathaniel Porter was born in Topsfield, Mass., January 14, 1745.
He was the son of a farmer of that town, in very moderate circumstances,
and was brought up to labour on a farm till the age of eighteen, when he
commenced his preparation for College. He was graduated with high honour
at Cambridge, in the year 1768. Having studied Theology and been licensed
to preach the Gospel, he spent a short time in missionary labour at Blue
Hill, Maine. On the 8th of September, 1773, he was ordained pastor of a
Congregational church in New Durham, N. H. In July, 1776, he was
appointed Chaplain of the regiment commanded by Colonel Joshua Win-
gate. He passed through the wilderness to Mount Independence on Lake
Champlain, lived with the soldiers, and shared their privations and suff"er-
ings, and was in the service five or six months. Returning in 1777, he was
dismissed from his charge at New Durham, on account of their inability to
furnish him an adequate support.
From New Durham he went to Conway, in the same State, where a settlement
had just commenced. A church having been gathered, he was installed as
• Christian Mirror for 1838. — MSS. from General Fessenden of Portland, and Rev. Mr. Tap-
pan of Conway.
54 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
its pastor, October 20, 1778. A grant of lanJ having been made to him by
the State, as the first settled minister of the town, he immediately com-
menced cultivating it ; and while he was thus occupied by day, he wrote his
Bcrmons by the light of pitch wood at night. This continued to be the tield
of his ministrations, during a period of more than thirty years.
In his political sentiments he was strongly of the Federal school, and was
accustomed to speak out on these subjects without reserve. Though his
people, as a body, did not synipathizc with his views, they were nevertheless
desirous that he should make an exposition of thom from the pulpit.
Accordingly, in the year 1811, after repeated requests from some of the
leading men in his parish, he consented to preach a sermon on the Fourtli
of July, which should exhibit his views of the political state of the coun-
try. He had warned them of the consequences ; but, as they were still
earnest in the expression of their wish, he would not shrink from the defence
of what ho deemed true and right. The week before the time for the deliv-
ery of the sermon, a portion of his church became so much alarmed on the
subject, that they appointed a committee to wait upon him, and request him to
deal tenderly with his opponents. He replied, laying his hand on a pile of
papers by his side, — '"Gentlemen, what I have written, is written." His
text on the occasion was, Jeremiah v. 31. — " My people love to have it
so." The sermon was published, and its decided character may be judged
of by the following extract: —
" Whatever may be the cause, our country appears this day in a very awkward
and critical situation — insulted abroad, degraded at hunio, and contcniplible in tlie
eyes of every I'orcigner; — tiie sources of roveuuu destroyed, the treasury empty, and
commerce, which furnished employment to thousands of citizens, greatly embarrassed
and without prot(;ction. The measures which were formerly adopted and jjursued in
a similar case, are set aside, and a different mode of conduct towards Ibreign aggres-
sions is observed. Without deciding on the wisdom or policy of the present train of
political measures, I only observe, the body of the people, in the true sense of the
text, ' love to have it so.' "
This sermon awakened feelings of hostility which could not be allayed,
and which, in 1814, brought his labours in Conway to a close. By an
arrangement with his people, he vacated the pulpit, — though he was never
formally dismissed ; and his successors were settled as his colleagues.
He received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from both Harvard Univer-
sity and Dartmouth College in 1814.
For several subsequent years, he preached in the neighbouring town of
Fryeburg. The following account of one of his sermons preached during
this period, has been communicated by General Fessendcu of Maine, who
was familiarly acquainted with him: —
" I recollect once being on a visit to my native village, (Fryebtirg,) and of
hearing Dr. Porter preach on a day of Fasting, which was observed on
account of a very extraordinary drought. He was then entirely blind, and
I think over eighty years of age. I shall not soon forget his venerable
form. He was full six feet high, and his locks which 1 remember in my
youth were black as the raven and bushy, had now become white as snow.
When he arose to preach, he seemed to fix his sightless eyes on the Bible,
as though intent on his notes, and then pronounced his text, which was as
follows :-^' And also, I have withholden the rain from you, when there vrere
yet three months to the harvest, and I caused it to rain upon one city, and
I caused it not to rain upon another city : one piece was rained upon, and
the piece whereupon it rained not, withered. So two or three cities wand-
NATHANIEL PORTER.
56
ered into one city to drink water ; but they were not satisfied ; yet have ye
not returned unto me, saith the Lord.' Amos iv, 7, 8. — He preached a
most powerful sermon, vindicating God in the exercise of his sovereignty,
and proving that the natural evils sent by Him are intended as a chastise-
ment to the people for their sins ; and that the design of the judgment
which they then deprecated, was to bring the people back to Him from
whom they had revolted. To me the sermon appeared of a very hi'^h order,
as well on account of the vigour of mind which it displayed, as the
sound and enlightened views which it put forth. I concluded that it was a
sermon written at some former period of his ministry, when he was in the
fulness of his intellectual power ; though it was certainly altogether appro-
priate to that particular occasion. As, after the service was concluded, he
went with me to the house of a mutual friend, I requested that he would
allow me the privilege of reading the sermon in manuscript. His reply
was, ' You can never do that ; for there was nothing written. It was my
poor extemporaneous commentary on the text, which I repeated.' "
He continued to preach until the infirmities of age had accumulated upon
him to such a degree as to render him incapable of any public service. For
some lime he delivered his discourse in a sitting posture ; and, after he was
unable to do that, he conducted the devotional service, and a sermon was
read by another person. After his mind became so enfeebled as to be
oblivious of even his most intimate friends, he was still regular in his devo-
tions, and would not only pray audibly and sensibly, but would sometimes
engage in preaching. His last breath is said to have passed ofi" in prater.
Ue died at his residence in Fryeburg, November 11, 1887.
Dr. Porter published two Sermons against Infidelity from 2 Peter ill.
3 ; a Sermon on the death of Washington, 1800 ; a Sermon before the
Legislature of New Hampshire, 1804 ; an Address at the opening of an
Academy at Fryeburg, 1806; a Sermon on the Fourth of July, 1811.
He was married in December, 177o, to Sarah, daughter of Capt. James
Stetson, of Portsmouth, N. H. They were the parents of thirteen chil-
dren, several of whom died in childhood. Two of his sons were masters of
vessels, and both perished at sea. Mrs. Porter died in February, 1810,
aged fifty-five years. In 1812, Dr. Porter was married to Widow Phoebe
Page of Fryeburg, who survived him ten years.
FROM THE REY. THOMAS T. STONE.
Salem, October 17, 1850.
My dear Sir : I will endeavour to coi\vcy to you some impressions and recollec
tions of the venerable Dr. Porter of Conway.
Of the three general divisions, — Hopkinsians, with whom the stricter Calvinists
may be joined, modL'ratc Calvinists, and Arininians, — existing among the Congre-
gationalists of New England at the close of the last centur}-, and the opening of
the present, Dr. Porter was more intimately connected, I think, with the second; —
the class to which belonged such men as Doctors Ilemmenway, Tajipan, and
Lathrop. As illustrative of his method of thinking on one subject eonnectcd with
these divisions, I remember that the Rev. jNIr. Church, a member, I think, of the
same ministerial Association with Dr. Porter, and who stood nearer tlie Ilopkin-
sian basis than any minister whom T then knew in the vicinity, once told me that,
speaking with him of human depravity, he remarked, — " My universality conies
very near to your totalitj'." If, however, he failed of the cxtrenicst orthodoxy,
Ik; by no means followed the course which those of the opposite extreme pursued ; as
yg TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL
you will {n rcuive t'roiu a suggestion he made to me in 1822, showiug probably more
of the character of his aspirations than any sagacity in his predictions. " In
half a century," said he, " there will be no Pagans, Jews, Mohamedans, Unita-
rians, or Methodists." By some again who sympathized strongly with the i)ecu-
liar form of religious experience developed in connection with revivals, his preaching
would have been considered as delicient in sjiirituality : so it was once described to
me by a minister whose youth had passed, 1 believe, under his ministry, but who
had pursued his theological studies under Dr. I'ayson. This word, spirituality,
however, I have not thought this critic to have used Avitli much precision. The
want he really meant, 1 presume, was that of qualities, such as ardour, vehe-
mence, and piercing application, which characterize the revivalist. I ought to
say, perhaps, that this gentleman retained into his manhood au early prejudice
against him.
Dr. Porter experienced no little inconvenience from tlie iuQuencc of the Metho-
dists. His societ}' in Conway was, I believe, extremely diminished by the
greater attractions Avhicli their zealous itinerants presented to tlie sympathies of
many; and his ministry there was greatly embarrassed, if not terminated, by
their successes. It was not unnatural that he should have believed himself injured
and abused by them, whatever the facts in the case may have actually been.
These circumstances, at any rate, will help account for any misconceptions of his,
as presented in one or two stories which he told me, and which I copy from u
record made a while after. " I was once visited," he said, " by a young man of
nineteen, a Methodist preacher. Finding what was his profession, I requested
him to be seated. lie sat down, and I noticed, kept nestling, and nestling, and
nestUng, wishing to lead me into conversation on the subject of Methodism. But
I was deaf and dumb. He repeated his indirect attempts, but I continued deaf
and dumb. At last he directlj^ inquired whether 1 liked the Methodists. I
hesitated, but thought it best to tell the truth. So I replied that 1 did not in all
respects. 'And why?' said the young man. ' For several reasons,' said I, 'but
one will suffice for the present. That is the method of ordination.' 'And why
do you not like that.'' ' Because it tends to introduce into the ministry the worst
men and to exclude the best.' 'How so.^' ' To the question, How shall a man
know whether he is inwardly moved. &c., three circumstances are mentioned as
necessary to prove this inward movement: 1. Does he know God .'' 2. Does he
possess talents, — that is, can he speak fluently .' 3. Has he been successful .'' Now
suppose the impostor, Mohamed, is the candidate for ordination. Mohamed, do
you know God ? Yes. Do you possess talents — can you speak glibl}- .'* Yes.
So far 'tis well. But have you been successful .' Yes, thousands and ten thou-
sands are my followers. Next, let Elijah be the candidate. Elijah, do you know
God.' 'Yes. Have you talents .'' Yes. Very well; and have you been successful?
No, I am left alone. So Mohamed is received, and Elijah excluded.'
" The .sentiment " — I continue my literal copy — " had been industriously pro{)-
agated among mj^ people, that if a minister were faithful, his people Avould not
leave him. At length, 1 took occasion to notice the sentiment in a sermon. There
was once, I remarked, a certain Apostle Paul, who travelled over much of Europe
and Asia, cstalilishing churches. This Paul some time wrote to one Timothy —
' All they that be in Asia have departed from me.' This would not have been, if
Paul had been a faithful Tninistcr. Then there was the prophet Elijah. He was
left alone, while Baal's prophets were four hundred and fifty. I will mention,"
he continued, "only one instance more. There was once a small society which
had a faithful minister. But a seducer came and drew them from him. This
society was placed in the Garden of Eden; God Him-self was their minister; and
on this principle, if he had been faithful, this society would never have been car-
ried away by the devil in the serpent. '
"A Methodist minister once oppo.sed the receiving of salaries. ' You do not
receive salaries,' said the Doctor. ' No,' replied the Methodist. ' But do not
NATHANIEL PORTER. 57
people pay you for your preaching ?' 'Yes, but we don't claim it. We preach
and receive what they contribute.' ' Very well, and this is what we do. People
offer us a certain sum, if we will preach. We accept their offer. But it was all
voluntary in them. They offered the money and we accepted it. We do not
claim it. Again, if you preach for nothing, you go a warfare at your own charges;
who hath required this of you .'" "
The conversations T had with Dr. Porter were confined to a single occasion in
April, 1822. I wrote them down as correctly as I could within a few months. I
prefixed to them this observation. ' He is a venerable Divine of more than three-
score and ten; I think he told me he was seventy- seven years old.'
Your friend and brother,
THOMAS T. STONE.
FROM THE REY. SAMUEL OSGOOD, D. D.
Springfield, September 26, 1851.
My dear Brother: My acquaintance with the Rev. Dr. Nathaniel Porter com-
menced with childhood. He was settled in my father's immediate neighbourhood,
before I was born, and I remember him almost as early as I remember any body.
His personal appearance and manners were well fitted to inspire affection in
children. He was mild and gentle in his communications with them, and as far
as I can remember, always took an affectionate notice of them.
Dr. Porter was considered by his ministerial brethren, as decidedly the first
preacher in the region in which he resided. His opportunities for enriching his
mind by books were meagre indeed; and what he was as a Divine, he became
chiefly by the independent activity of his own mind. I doubt whether his whole
library amounted to twenty volumes of valuable works. He was a Calvinist in
his Theology, and yet in his public discourses, he seldom presented any of the
peculiar points of the s)^stem in a strictly doctrinal way. His preaching was
eminently practical. He greatly excelled in devotional exercises. He would some-
times occupy forty minutes in prayer, and seldom less than half an hour; and so
remarkable was his command of thought and language, that he was never known
to stammer or repeat; and I believe his prayers were not generally complained of
as being too long. His public services usually lasted full two hours. He was
regarded as a highly impressive preacher. Though I was not qualified to judge
of his discourses until I left the region in which he laboured, I well remember the
expressions of high approbation which used to be made respecting his sermons by
those who were competent to form an opinion of them.
Dr. Porter always maintained a suitable gravity, — a due respect for his office,
l>oth in the pulpit and out of it. He was, however, sufficiently familiar in his
ordinary intercourse with his people, and with his particular friends he was often
pleasantly facetious.
After I had completed my theological education, and was licensed to preach,
T made a visit to my native place, which was near the residence of Dr. Porter,
and for several weeks enjo3-ed frequent opportunities of intercourse with
him. He lent me some of his manuscript sermons; and, though he had
never read Edwards, I was struck with the fact that he seemed to have
embraced, as the result of his original investigation, the same theological system.
His discourses were written in a chaste and perspicuous style, and were always
instructive, and sometimes very forcible; but I think they were better adapted to
edify and comfort the Christian than to carry alarm and conviction to the careless
sinner. Aged Christians especially used to speak of the dehght with which they
listened to his discourses.
On one occasion I had engaged to preach a lecture for him in a village, at some
distance from his residence, and afterwards to dine with him. I arrived at his
house about ten o'clock in the morning, and found him in his field engaged in
Vol. n. 8
58 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
mowing. I said to liiin, — " I tliink, Sir, you can wield another in.strunicnt tc
better purpose." " Oh, Sir," lie replied, — referring to his almost abject poverty,
*' I have always been compelled to u.se both carnal and .s[)irilual v.capon.s, and
have u.sed the latter very unprofitably. 1 have served a kind Master, Imt He has
never given nie the wages of this world."
I am inclined to think that Dr. Porter's labours were never more highly appre-
ciated than while, after his dismi.ssion from his people, he supplied a society in
Exeter, New Hampshire, a majority of whose members were called Unitarians.
He did not compromise his religious sentiments in any way, nor did his hearcr.s
desire him to do it; but he preached the .sermons which he had written many years
before, and they were received with great favour. His fine conversational powers,
and his kind and charitable spirit, contributed also to render him a fiivourite;
and as the people were aware of his extreme poverty, they made handsome contri-
butions, in the way of presents, to his relief. After his return to Conway, he
lost his excellent wife, and subsequently married another, whose worldly circum-
stances were such as to render him very comfortable during the residue of his
life. His last years were years of great infirmity; and, Ijcfore his death, ho
reached a state of second childhood; but his equanimity of temper never forsook
him, and, amidst the perishing elements of the outward man, might be discerned
the features of the inward man, renewed after the image of Him wlio created
liim.
The few printed sermons of Dr. Porter that remain, show that he was an
accomplished writer, as well as an able preacher. His Eulogy on General
Washington particularly, was much spoken of in its day, as was also a Sermon
that he delivered at a later period at the dedication of Fryeburg Academy. I
ought to have stated, in another place, that he had the reputation of being an
excellent classical scholar. While in College, a puzzling sentence in Latin was
put forth by one of the officers for the students to translate or parse, and he was
the only one of the whole number who was able to master it.
Yours truly,
SAMUEL OSGOOD.
WILLIAM HOLLINGSHEAD, D. D *
1772—1817.
William Hollinqshead was born of respectable parents in Philadel-
phia, October 8, 1748. His father, William Ilolling.shead, who was con-
siderably distinguished in civil life at the commencement of the Revolution,
was the youngest son who lived to manhood, of Daniel Hollingshead, who
came from Lancashire, England, to Barbadocs, early in the eighteenth
century, and was married to Miss Hazell, the daughter of a wealthy sugar
planter on the Island, and some time after came to New Jersey and settled
in the neighbourhood of New Brunswick. The subject of this sketch was
the eldest of fifteen children. He discovered a serious disposition from
early childhood, and at the age of fifteen became a communicant in the
church. He was graduated at the University of Pennsylvania in 1770. He
was licensed to preach by the Presbytery of Philadelphia in 1772, ; and was
• Yeadon's Ili.story of the Circular church, Charleston. — MS. from Miss Kainsay of Charles-
ton and others.
WILLIAM IIOLLINGSHEAD. 59
orJainod and installed pastor of the Presbyterian church in Fairfield, N. J.,
the next year. Here he was greatly esteemed, and enjoyed a high degree
of popularity throughout the whole region; and he did not hesitate to say,
in the latter part of his life, that he had never known any happier years
than those which he spent in his connection with this congregation.
In the year 1783, he accepted a call from tho Independent Congregational
church in Charleston, South Carolina; — a call from the same church having
been sent to him, but not accepted on account of some informality, the pre-
ceding year. Here also he was received with great favour ; and soon
acquired an extensive influence both as a man and a minister. In 1788, the
Rev. Isaac Keith, who had been previously settled over the Presbyterian
church in Alexandria, D. C, was associated with him in the pastoral office ;
though there were two places of worship belonging to the congregation in
which the two pastors alternately officiated.
In 1793, Mr. Hollingshead was honoured with the degree of Doctor of
Divinity from the College of New Jersey.
Dr. Hollingshead continued in the active discharge of his duties till March
1815, when he suddenly lost, in a great measure, his power of recollection,
while engaged in the public service of the Sabbath. In connection with
this, he suffered great depression of spirits ; and, early in the summer,
travelled into the Northern States, in the hope that his malady might yield
to rest and relaxation. He returned home in December following without
having experienced any essential relief ; and from that time he continued in
a low and declining state, until the 26th of January, 1817, when he closed
his earthly career, aged sixty-eight years and three months.
Dr. Hollingshead published a Sermon on the opening of the new meeting
house, 1787; a Sermon on the advantages of public worship, 1794; a Ser-
mon commemorative of General Moultrie, 1805.
He was married to a sister of the Rev. Daniel M'Calla, but they had no
children.
FROM THE REV. WILLIAM S. LEE.
Edisto Island, S. C. May 10, 1853.
Rev. and dear Sir : I was reared under Dr. Hollingshead 's pastoral care, but had
very little personal acquaintance with him, until a few years before his death.
Peculiar circumstances, even during that short period, prevented our intercourse
from being either very frequent or very intimate. Nevertheless I have distinct
recollections of him, and probabl}' tolerably correct impressions concerning his
character; and such as they are, I take pleasure in communicating them to you.
In stature he was not much above the medium height; but was remarkably
dignified in his deportment. His features v/ere very regular and attractive; his
manners combined the appareiitly opposite qualities of great refinement and
Christian simplicity. So great was his influence among the people of his charge
during the first years of his ministry in Charleston, and so marked was their
attachment to him, that he was tauntingly spoken of by many in other denomi-
nations as "the white meetingers' Saviour." He maintained a distinguished
reputation for biblical knowledge, piety, and eloquence, to the close of life. His
manner hi the pidpit was earnest and impressive. He spoke like one who felt
deeply his responsibility to God, who truly estimated the value of the soul, and
whose ardent love to God and man caused him to forget himself in his efforts to
advance the interests of Christ's Kingdom.
gQ TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
In his intercourse with his fellow men he was urbane and courteous. Never
forgetting what was due to his office, and what was reasonably expected of him
as a Christian and a Christian minister, his cheerfulness, and mildness, and
unaffected interest in the welfare of all, rendered his character peculiarly attrac-
tive, and his company exceedingly welcome to persons of all ages. His pastoral
intercourse was characterized by tenderness and fidelity. Prepared at all times
to advise, direct, commend, and even censure, if need be, in a manner peculiarly
his own, he could check the presumptuous without repelling them, and encourage
the timid or desponding, without bringing to their view any false ground of
dependance. Christ and Ilim crucified, the sinner's hope, the Christian's example
and life, was the theme that seemed ever present to his mind, both in public and
in private.
The estimation in which Dr. HoUingshead was held by the community in which
he laboured, was manifested by his being appointed to a place in every institution
either literary or benevolent, in the city, which a minister of the Gospel could fill.
His interest in the coloured population, his anxiety for their religious instruction,
^nd his zeal for the welfare of their souls, were such as to secure to him the vene-
ration and warmest affection of that simple minded but grateful portion of his
pastoral charge. His efforts in this interesting department of every Southern
minister's duty, were not as systematic as such efforts are now; but they were
made to the extent of his opportunities. On every Sabbath morning, a consider-
able number of the coloured members of his church met at an early hour in his
yard, and conducted their religious exercises alone in one of his outbuildings. At
the hour of family worship, a small bell was rung as the signal for their joining
his family in the dwelling house. He then read a portion of Scripture, upon which
he commented in language adapted to their comprehension; and after they had
sung a psalm or hymn, and united in a prayer, they retired to their respective
homes, to join afterwards in the public services of the sanctuarj^.
Dr. HoUingshead had naturally a strong constitution, and enjoyed almost
uninterrupted health, until within less than two years of his death, when he was
seized with a distressing malady, which affected his mind as well as body and
finally terminated his life. I have understood from his family that he was an
early riser during much of his life, and was usually in his study at four o'clock
in the morning. He remained there until the day was dawning, and then threw
himself upon his bed for half an hour. This habit had become so fixed that, during
his last illness, he awoke almost exactly at four, continued awake or restless until
about the dawn, and then for a httle while slept with apparent comfort.
With regard and esteem,
I remain yours, in the bonds of the Gospel,
WILLIAM STATES LEE.
CHARLES BACKUS. 61
CHARLES BACKUS, D. D *
1773—1803.
Charles Backus was born at Norwich, (Franklin,) Conn., November
5, 1749. His parents were persons of excellent character, but he lost them
both in his childhood, — in consequence of which it devolved upon some
other near relatives to conduct his education. Though not left in absolute
indigence, his patrimony was not sufficient to procure for him the advan-
tages of a college course ; but his friends, discovering in him an uncom-
mon thirst for knowledge, and withal an uncommon facility in acquiring it,
resolved to supply whatever means were lacking, for the accomplishment
of his wishes. Accordingly he entered Yale College in 1765, and was
admitted to the degree of Bachelor of Arts in 1769. He had a high reputation
in College, both for scholarship and behaviour. He was a classmate of the
late Dr. Strong of Hartford, who preached his funeral sermon; and of the
late Dr. Dwight, President of Yale College, who has rendered a most affec-
tionate tribute to his memory, in the second volume of his " Travels in
New England and New York."
It was during the last year of his residence at College that he was
brought first to view religion as a personal concern. He had not at any
time been, in the popular sense of the word, immoral ; but neither had he
evinced any thing more than a general respect for Christianity and its insti-
tutions. For a considerable period, his mind was severely tried in respect
to some parts of the Christian system, which he could not reconcile with
bis notions of Divine justice and goodness ; but he at length reposed with
great confidence and satisfaction in what are commonly called the " doc-
trines of grace," and adhered to them with great tenacity till the close of
life. In connection with this change in his views and feelings, was formed
the purpose to become a minister of the Gospel.
His course immediately preparatory to the ministry was conducted by the
Rev. Dr. Hart of Preston, with whom he continued, ever after, in the most
affectionate and intimate relations. He was licensed to preach by the New
London Association, at Hanover, in June, 1773.
On the second Sabbath after his licensure, he commenced preaching at
Somers. Tonn. The congregation there had been not a little distracted by
the influence of an unauthorized preacher, by the name of Samuel Ely ; or
rather they were in a state of disquietude previous to his coming among
them, and he had greatly aggravated the evils already existing. He was
finally obliged to leave the place in disgrace, and, before the close of life,
actually exchanged the pulpit for the prison. Notwithstanding Mr. Backus
began his labours under these unpropitious circumstances, his benign and
conciliatory spirit quickly harmonized the contending parties, so that they
united in calling him to be their pastor. He accepted their call, and was
ordained on the 10th of August, 1774. The sermon on the occasion was
preached by the Bev. Mr. Ellis of Norwich, minister of the parish in which
Mr. Backus was born.
About the year 1775, he was married to Bethiah Hill, daughter of Jacob
Hill of Cambridge, Mass.; but, from circumstances which are not now
•Strong's Fun. Serm.— Conn. Evang. Mag., IV.— Dwight's Travels, II.— MS. from Rev
W. L. Strong.
G2 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
known, tlie marriage ceremony was performed in Mr. Backus' native place.
They had but one child, Jahez, who died suddenly, while a member of Yalo
College, March IG, 179-i, in his .seventeenth year.
Besides discharging with remarkable fidelity the duties of a parish minis-
ter, he was accustomed, during the greater part of his active life, to receive
young men into his family for the purpose of assisting them in their prepar-
ation for the ministry. Nearly fifty, in this manner, enjoyed the benefit of
his instructions, iimong them were Dr. Woods of Andover, Dr. Church of
Pelham, Dr. Hyde of JiCe, Dr. Cooley of Granville, Dr. Snell of Brook-
field, President Moore of Amherst College, President Davis of Hamilton
College, and many others of nearly or quite the same distinction.
His high reputation as a Theologian procured for him invitations t(>
occupy the Theological chair in two of our Colleges — Dartmouth and Yale ;
but in both cases he declined, partly on the ground that he could not per-
suade himself that he possessed the requisite qualifications, and partly
because he was too far advanced in life to feel justified in making so impor-
tant a change.
In the early part of the year 1792, he was afflicted with a serious illness
from which, perhaps, he never fully recovered. But though, from this
time, he laboured under much bodily infirmity, and occasional mental
depression, he continued his stated labours with his people till August,
1801, when he was arrested by the disease (pulmonary consumption)
which terminated his life. He languif5hed in great bodily sufi"ering, but in
serene Christian composure and triumphant faith, till December 30, 1803,
when he put ofi" the earthly and put on the Heavenly, after a devoted minis-
try of more than twenty-nine years. He whispered with his expiring breath,
(and they were the last words that fell from his lips,) "Glory to God in the
liighest, peace on earth, good will towards men." His funeral sermon was
preached by the llev. Dr. Strong of Hartfoi'd, and was published.
The following is a list of Dr. Backus' publications : — A Sermon on the-
death of John Howard, 1785, A Sermon on the death of Bethia Kings-
bury, 1791. A Sermon at the ordination of Azel Backus, 1792. A Ser-
mon in the American Preacher, Vol. IV., 1793. A Sermon on the death of
Moses Chapin, 1794. A Sermon at the ordination of Frecgrace Raynolds.*
1795. A Sermon at the ordination of Zephaniah Swift Moore, 1795. A
Sermon before the Uriel Lodge of Freemasons, 1795. A Sermon at the
ordination of Joseph Russell, 1796, A Sermon at the ordination of
Timothy Mather Cooley, 1796. Five Discourses on the Divine authority
of the Scriptures, 1797. A Sermon on the death of Mrs. Sarah Storrs,
1798. A Serinon at the ordination of Thomas Snell, 1798. A Sermon on
tlie death of Mrs. Agnes Prudden, 1799. A Sermon at Wilbraham, occa-
sioned by six persons being drowned, 1799. A Century Sermon, 1801. A
Sermon at the ordination of the Rev. Vinson Gould,t 1801. Sermons on
Regeneration.
* Freegrace Raynolds was born at Somers, Conn., January 20, 1767; was graduated at
Yale College in 1787; was ordained pastor of the church at Wilmington, Mass., October 29,
1795; was dismissed June 9, 1830; was installed pastor of the church in Leverett, Mass., in
November, 1832; resigned his charge on account of the failure of his voice in 1839; returned
to Wilmington, and died December 8, 1854, aged eighty-eight.
t Vinson Gould was a native of Sharon, Conn. ; was graduated at Williams College in
1797; was a Tutor in the College from 1799 to 1801; was ordained pastor of the church in
Southampton, Mass., August 26, 1801 ; resigned his charge Januaiy 5, 1832; and died in 1841,
aged sixty-eight.
CHARLES BACKUS. 63
FROM THE REV. LEONARD WOODS, D. D.,
PKOFESSOR IN TIIK THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY AT ANDOVEE.
Andover, August 19, 1849.
My dear Brother : In compliance with your request, I shall now give you briefly
my recollections of the llev. Dr. Charles Backus.
My acquaintance with Dr. Backus commenced in August, 1797, more than fifty
years ago. I had been advised to pursue the study of Divinity with two other
distinguished clergymen; but finally, an excellent minister, in wliom 1 had great
confidence, and who had himself enjoyed the benefit of Dr. Backus' instruc-
tions, recommended him to me as a theological teacher of superior qualifications.
The late Dr. Church and I went together to Somers, the latter part of the year
1797, and were received by Dr. Backus as students in Divinity. For some months
there had been among the people in that place an uncommon degree of wakeful-
ness on the subject of religion, and a considerable number of persons of different
ages had exhibited evidence of a saving conversion. Dr. Backus was eminently-
fitted for a revival of religion. His heart was in his work, and he joined witli
the angels of God in rejoicing over repenting sinners. He Avas endued with that
wisdom and discretion which are so indispensable in the right conduct of a revival.
Full well had he been acquainted with the irregularities of the Separatists, or
New Lights as they were called, — with their self-righteous, self-exalting spirit, —
their censoriousness and bitterness towards those who differed from them, their
contempt of learning and of religious and social order, their proneness to substi
tute their own inward impulses, their fancies and dreams, in place of the "Word of
God, and with the infidelity and moral desolations which ensued. lie was thus
prepared to guard watchfully and successfully against enthusiasm, wild-fire, and
every species of disorder. It is not easy for me to tell how alive he was to the
danger of these evils, while he was continually urged on in his work by a strength
and fervour of feeling seldom equalled. His was a zeal according to knowledge.
Through the whole season of the revival, which continued about a year, the
only extra meetings which Dr. Backu.? kept up, were two — one chiefly for the
young on Wednesda}^ afternoon, and the other chiefly for the church on Sabbath
evening — both at his own house. These meetings, together with the regular services
on the Sabbath, he deemed sufficient. He thought a multiplicity of religious
meetings during the week, not only unnecessary but dangerous. He Avished those
who were impressed with the importance of religion to have time for retirement,
for reading the Scriptures and other books, and for reflection and prayer. He
considered social prayer as highly important, but secret prayer as fiir more import-
ant. If people had too many meetings and too much instruction in the course of
the v/eek, he thought they would generally undervalue the public services of the
Sabbath, which he regarded as inexpressibly important. He said that he wished
liis people to come to the house of God, hungry for the bread of life; — wished
them, on the Lord's day particularly, to have a strong inward appetite for plain
Scripture truth, — the unadulterated milk of the Word.
His sermons were well studied. He always preached with animation and
power, especially when he preached extempore. Divine truth, held forth in his
ministry, was quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword. Under
his faithful, discriminating preaching, there were deep searchings of heart, pun-
gent convictions of sin, and the waking up of all the intellectual and moral facul-
ties to unwonted activity and force. His sermons were exceedinglj" plain and
intelligible, ])ut had nothing in matter or manner which could give otfence to the
most cultivated understanding or the most refined taste.
In the Wednesday conference he appcnred to peculiar advantage, as an able
teacher and an nffectionatc pastor. He generally selected a passage of Scripture
beforehand, and assigned the leading questions which grew out of it to his theolo-
64 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
gical students, wishing them by suitable reflection to prepare themselves to speak
live or six minutes a piece, and to bring out the most weighty truths for the benefit
of those present. After they had done this, he arose and made an application of
the subject in a manner remarkably serious, and skilfully adapted to the state of
those who were inquiring after the truth, and of those who were living in carnal
security. When he saw signs of extraordinary excitement and tenderness in those
whom he addressed, and his own feelings were excited too, his serious aim was to
temper and regulate that excitement, and turn it to a good account. After one of
the meetings, he told us that lie perceived the young people and others present to
be in such a state that, by a passionate address, even such as liis own awakened
sensibilities might have prompted, he could have produced an excess of animal
emotion and a flood of tears. But he conscientiously restrained his own feelings,
and instead of labouring to heighten the excitement, he aimed to enlighten the
understanding and conscience, to make deep and permanent impressions of Divine
truth, and through the efficacy of Divine grace, to promote the saving conversion
of sinners. And he endeavoured so to instruct them, that if God should in mercy
i-enew their hearts, they might, be intelligent, humble, growing Christians, abound-
ing not in professions, but in good works.
I recollect with great pleasure what care he took to secure the minds of his
people, especially young Christians, against all extravagance and enthusiastic
heats. At one of the meetings on Wednesday, after the students had done their
part, Dr. Backus gave opportunity, as he usually did, for any questions to be pro-
posed respecting the subject in hand. There was present an old man, who had
been, in former days, forward and active among the Separatists, and who, instead
of asking questions, or making remarks, on the subject, began to talk at random
with great zeal, and to tell what marvellous things he had witnessed in the great
awakening, — how he had seen persons so affected and overcome that they would
fall down in distress, and shortly after would rise up and cry, " Glory to God,"
&c. Dr. Backus, seeing to what it was all tending, suddenly stopped the man
with the remark, forcibly uttered, " Well, those things were not desirable, were
they ?" The man was abashed and reluctantly answered, " Why — no — if they
could be avoided." Dr Backus then arose, and, with great seriousness and
fidelity, addressed the people assembled, endeavouring to fix their attention upon
the plain and essential truths of the Gospel, and not without visible effect. At
the tea-table, referring to the zealous man who was at the meeting, and whom he
happened to know, he said to us, — " Why, if T had suffered him to go on a little
longer, he would have produced terrible convulsions, and you would have seen men
and women prostrate, and all the scenes of Separatical times acted over again."
I recollect one thing in particular which characterized the conference and
the church meeting — viz : that he did not permit any one to use the first
person singular, or to speak of himself during the meeting, though he
encouraged all present to be perfectly free in proposing inquiries. Accordingly,
if any one had any doubt or difficulty respecting his own spiritual state, which he
wished might be solved, instead of saying '" /feel so and so, and what shall /do .''"
he would say, " If any one feels so and so, what shall be said to him, or what shall
he do .? " Dr. Backus had witnessed so much egotism and self-display in such
cases, that he looked upon them with the utmost disgust; and, by adopting the
method above mentioned, and in other ways, he aimed to keep his people from the
impropriety of talking publicly about themselves.
But he took special care to give all persons opportunity to converse with him
respecting their spiritual concerns in private. The Inquiry Meeting had not then
been generally introduced; and if it had been, he would still have preferred conversa-
tion with each individual alone. With such a view of the best means of doing good,
he gave invitation to all who desired it, to come at a convenient time to his study,
where he treated them with great kindness, and encouraged them to open their
hearts to him without reserve. He said that he preferred conversing even with a
CHARLES BACKUS. 05
husband and wife separatel}'', when he could do so without inconvenience, as there
Avould, in that way, be greater freedom, both on tlieir part and on his, and conse-
quently the object in view be more fully reached. I do not mean to signify that
lie would have objected to an Inquiry Meeting properly conducted. In case it had
appeared important to converse with a larger number of persons than could well
be seen in private, he would unquestionably have fallen in with the method which
has been adopted by the most judicious and successful ministers in later times.
But, in his circumstances, he chose private conversation.
He endeavoured to prevent or to check every form of self-righteousness and
ostentation . He discountenanced any inclination which appeared in young converts
to show tlieir religion by singularities in their clothing or behaviour. Several
young ladies, hopefully pious, requested his advice, and that of Mrs. Backus,
respecting their dress. The advice given was, that they should dress in the com-
mon way, only guarding against any appearance of extravagance or finery.
The talents of Dr. Backus were of a high order. But he had not the time,
nor the health, nor the means, necessary to distinguished literary acquisitions.
He read many of the best books Vvith great profit. But on theological subjects
his conceptions and reasonings were so perspicuous and profound, and, as we
thought, so just and scriptui-al, that his pupils deemed it better to consult him
than any author; and no one who knew the habits of his penetrating mind, could
be otherwise than gratified that, instead of reljing on the authority of the best
writers, and following in their track, he chose to think for himself.
He set a high value upon the superior acquisitions of others, regarding them
with evident complacency as the means of doing good. In the autumn of 1797,
Dr. Dwight, who was his class-mate and friend, visited him, and spent an evening
in delightful conversation with him. xifter he was gone. Dr. Backus remarked
with manifest pleasure upon the eminent character and usefulness of his friend ;
and then, seeing our admiration of the learning and eloquence of the President,
looked at us very significantly and said, " Do you think I envy the superior
learning, station, and honour of that excellent man ? " Dr. Backus, in his natural
disposition, was very aspiring. But, in the school of Christ, he had learned
lessons contrary to the dictates of pride and ambition. He was satisfied with the
sphere of action which Divine providence had assigned to him, and actually pre-
ferred his retired life as a parish minister, and a teacher of three or four theological
students, to the proffered oflSce of a Professor of Divinity in Yale College. He
entertained a lower opinion than others did of his fitness for such a public office.
He once gave us an account of his son, a youth of a lovely and promising
character. The parents were earnestly engaged in their labours and prayers for
the conversion of that beloved and only child. In due time, he was sent to Yale
College, — his parents following him Avith their counsels and prayers, and hoping
in the mercy of God. But their son was seized with a severe and threatening
illness. They hastened to visit him, but he died before their arrival at New
Haven. No event could have been more sorrowful. The father was peculiarly
excitable, and occasionally was subject to the deepest depression. For a time,
the bereavement was overwhelming. At length, as he told us, he emerged from
his gloomy and suffering condition, and went about the work of his Lord and
Master. The revival followed. " And now," said he, " God has answered my
prayers, and in place of that one dear son, He has given me a hundred spiritual
children."
In his religious belief Dr. Backus agreed with the great body of the ministers
of Connecticut, who were contemporary with him. He read with interest the
writings of Dr. Hopkins, and thought highly of his " System of Divinity."
But he did not adopt all the points of doctrine contained in that System, nor did
he think all those which he did adopt set forth by that writer in the best manner.
His mode of thinking and his controversial skill were very advantageously
Vol.. 11. 9
gg TRINITARIAK CONGREGATIONAL.
brought into public view at an ordination wliich he was once called to attend.
The candidate, who was a vei-y piou.s and .sensible man, had adopted the senti-
ments of Dr. Hopkins in regard to the nature of submission, and the Divine
agency in moral evil. A distinguished minister belonging to the Council, who
was well known to be strongly opposed not only to Hopkinsian tenets, but to all
the points of Calvinism, objected to the ordination of the candidate on account of
his peculiar opinions. Dr. Backus told tlie Council that he did not himself main-
tain those metaphysical speculations, but that they ought to be no bar to the ordi-
nation of the candidate, considering that he was sound on all the doctrines of
Scripture Theology, and exhibited veiy satisfactory evidence of piety and discre-
tion, and of other ministerial qualifications; and considering also that the points
objected to, which belonged to the department of metaphysics rather than Theo-
logy, could be supported by as many arguments as could be urged against them.
The discussion became animated, and the Anti-Calvinistic Doctor challenged Dr.
Backus to a public dispute on that point; and, though a modest man, he felt con-
strained to accept the challenge. Notice was given of the arrangement, and, at
the appointed time, the church was filled with an attentive and intelligent assem-
bly. Dr. Backus carefully defined the position which he undertook to maintain.
He said, " I shall not attempt to prove the truth of the metaphysical speculations
objected to, and am sorry the candidate has adopted them. But I affirm that as
many metaphysical arguments can be urged in favour of them as against them.
This, I undertake to show, and consequently that the candidate's holding them, as
a part of his metaphysical system, is not a valid reason against his ordination."
Dr. Backus was familiar with the subject, and was imbued with the gift of quick
thought, and quick speech, and uncommon adroitness in conducting an extempor-
aneous controversy. The discussion occupied several hours; and the result was,
that, in the judgment of all present, whatever their own belief. Dr. Backus
acquitted himself in a manner equally creditable to his polemic skill and Chris-
tian urbanity. The candidate was ordained, and, for about forty years, proved to
be a faithful and acceptable minister of Christ.
It was a remarkable trait in the religious character of Dr. Backus that he had
an uncommonly clear discernment of the evil of sin, particularly in himself, and
habitually took a low place before God, and before his brethren. From the
impulse of his own heart, he complied with that Divine precept which seems to be
so generally forgotten — that each should esteem others better than himself. From
time to time in the discharge of his pastoral duties, he Avas engaged in faithfully
searching the hearts of those committed to his care; but he still more faithfully
Bearchcd his own heart; and it was the clear knowledge he had of himself, that
enabled him so accurately to discern the hearts of others. On a visit which he
made to me, not long before he died, he said in retired conversation, that it would
be in vain for him to attempt to describe to me the evils he was conscious of in
his own heart, and how undeserving he was of any favour from the hand of a
holy God. The all-atoning Saviour was to him the only ground of hope. And I
wa.s informed that, a short time previous to his death, ,he had such a sense of the
great^^ss and purity, as well as the mercy, of God, and was so affected with the
sinfulness of his own heart, and recollected so much that was imperfect and faulty
in his public and private life, that he insisted upon rising from his bed, and kneel-
ing down before his wife and friends, that he might once more confess his sins,
and ask their forgiveness and the forgiveness of his God and Saviour. Thus he
died as he had lived, with a very deep conviction that salvation is all of grace.
I am truly and affectionately yours,
LEONARD WOODS.
CHARLES BACKUS. Qf
FROM THE REV. DANIEL WALDO.
Geddes, September 12. 1851.
My dear Sir : You expressed a wish that I would commit to paper some of the
incidents which I mentioned in our conversation the other day concerning my
venerable and excellent relative, Dr. Backus. Not only the circumstance of his
being my first cousin, but the additional circumstance of my having fitted for
College under his instruction, brought me into more than commonly intimate
relations with him, so that I had the best opportunity of seeing him in various
situations.
There Avas nothing very remarkable in his personal appearance. He was of
about the medium height, of rather light complexion, had a grey eye, and a more
than commonly intelligent expression of countenance. He was easy and agree-
able in his intercourse, and though habituallj^ of a serious mind, was far from
taking on any airs of artificial sanctity. He had no voice for music, and I know
not that he ever attempted to sing; but he was fond of hearing music and often
set those around him to singing, as he had opportunity.
He was a man of naturally strong passions, but he generally kept them under
perfect control ; and when, on any occasion, the}' temi^orarily mastered him, it
always caused him the deepest sorrow; and if, in a moment of impatience or
inconsideration, he had wounded any one's feelings, he was never satisfied till he
had made Christian reparation. It was his custom always to have family prayers
precisely at nine o'clock. On one occasion I was visiting at a neighbour's nearly
opposite his house in the evening, and was engaged in singing a tune with some of
my friends, when the clock struck nine: I dropped the tune and immediately
hastened home, but when I entered the room the Doctor had begun his prayer;
and I quickly perceived from his tones that I was regarded an offender. When
the prayer was closed, he turned to me, and addressed me in a tone of severe
rebuke for having, as he said, thus disturbed the family devotions. His manner
was so severe that his wife interposed in my behalf, and let him understand that
Khe thought he was making too much of the alleged offence. The next day he
took me aside, and made an humble apology for his indiscreet haste, and begged
that I would forgive his error. Of course I besought him never to feel that any
apology was due from him to me, on any such occasion. I recollect that he sub-
sequently told me, when I was riding with him to attend the ordination of his
nephew, Azel Backus, that he would give a great deal if he had a temper equally
gentle and manageable with that of another individual whom he mentioned.
Though he was generally suflBciently moderate in his expressions, he would
occasionally, in familiar conversation, let off something that savoured pretty
strongly of extravagance. He had a remote relative who used to be called Uncle
Sam, who was famous for his overstrained sayings, and who was reported to
have said that he wished he had a seventy-four ship, loaded so deeply with needles,
that one more would sink it; that all these needles were worn up to the ej^es in
making bags; that all these bags were filled with gold; and that this constituted
his fortune. Mrs. Backus, when she heard the Doctor occasionally dealing out
something extravagant, would check him in a good natured waj^ by saying —
" Take care now; that is Uncle Sam over again."
As he had a mind of great acuteness, he was never slow to grapple in an argu-
ment with those whom he regarded as holding .tierious errors; particularly with the
rejecters of Divine revelation. A certain Dr. H. of Hartford, who was sometimes
professionally in his family, and who was distinguished, not more for his wit and
genius, than his infidelity, was often throwing out his skeptical cavils in conver-
sation with Dr. B., and was always met with a prompt and pertinent answer.
On one occasion, he remarked that there was no difference between natural and
moral evil, except in degree. " Let us examine this a little then." said Dr. Backus.
68 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
" If you rub off a piece of skin from your leg as large as a copper, that is a natural
evil— is it not ?" " Certainly,'- said Dr. H. " Well then," rejoined Dr. B., " I
should like to have you tell how large the piece of skin must be to constitute it a
moral evil."
Dr. Backus was almost ahvays in his study, and the whole domestic management
devolved on his wife. It was not uncommon for him to become so fixed in thought,
that he would be quite insensible to every thing that was passing around him,
and would sit stirring the fire with the tongs till there was scarcely anj^ fire left
to stir. 7ind when the cold became not only perceptible but decidedly uncomfort-
able, he would call to his wife, or some other member of the family, to come and
recruit the fire.
I think I am not deceived in saying that Dr. Backus, in the course of his minis-
try, underwent considerable change, if not in his religious views, at least in the
manner and the frequency with which he presented some of them. He was more
inclined to dwell on the great truths of Christianity in a simple and practical way,
and to discard from the pulpit every thing like metaphysical speculation. His
preaching, from the time that I remember him, though often highly argumenta-
tive, was never, so far as I know, of a j^hilosophical or speculative cast. He was
ready enough to break a lance with a metaphysical combatant in the study; but
when he entered the pulpit, he seemed to forget every thing in the one great con-
sideration that he was addressing immortal beings in respect to their immortal
interests.
Dr. Backus had been, during his whole life, greatly enslaved to the fear of
death. I visited him a short time before his departure, and he assured me that,
though he had no painful apprehensions in respect to the consequences of death, ho
greatly dreaded the physical pang of dying; and he asked me to pray for him that,
if it were God's will, he might have an easy passage into the eternal world; but
that if suffering would purge away sin, he was walling to endure any amount of it.
It turned out that his death was marked by the utmost tranquillity and freedom
from pain. When his wife told him that the process of dying had begun, he said
he could not believe it, as he had little or no suffering; and when he became con-
vinced, by an inspection of his hands, that it was really so, nothing could exceed
his grateful surprise at this unlooked for expression of the Divine goodness. He
passed away in the utmost serenity of spirit and in the full assurance of hope.
Yours very sincerely,
DANIEL WALDO.
ALEXANDER GILLET.^
1773—1826.
Alexander Gillet, son of Zaccheus and Ruth Gillet, was born in
Granby (Turkey Hills) Conn., August 14, (0. S.) 174D. He early dis-
covered a great fondness for books, and especially for History. At the age
of thirteen be was the subject of serious impressions during a revival which
then prevailed in several towns in Hartford county; and these impressions,
though they seem subsequently to have greatly declined, never entirely left him.
At the age of fourteen, he began his preparation for College, under the Rev.
Nehemiah Strong, his pastor, and completed it under the Rev. Roger Viets,
an Episcopal clergyman, and a missionary of the Society for propagating
•Hart's Fun. Serm.— MS. from Eev. T. P. Gillet.
ALEXANDER GILLET. QQ
the Gospel in Foreign parts. He was admitted a member of Yale CVlleg(>
in June, 1767, at an advanced standing, and was graduated in September,
1770. It was not till the summer of 1760 that his mind seems to have
become fully settled in regard to the doctrines of the Gospel ; and not uutii
about the close of 1770, that he was the subject of any religious experience
that he himself believed to be genuine. In May, 1771, he united with t!ie
church in Turkey Hills, (Granby,) though, owing probabl}' to there being
no settled minister in the place, he had no opportunity of joining in the
celebration of the Lord's Supper until December following. After leaving
College he taught a school for a year or more at Farmington ; and it is
supposed that he may have studied Theology during that time under the
direction of the Rev. Timothy Pitkin. He was licensed to preach by the
Hartford Association, at Northington, on the 2d of June, 1773. In
December of the same year, he was ordained the first pastor of the church
in Farmingbury, (now Wolcott,) whei'e he remained almost eighteen years,
diligently employed in the duties of his office. Owing to a difficulty which
arose in his parish, involving no moral delinquency on his part, his pastoral
relation to them was dissolved in November, 1791; and in May following
he was installed pastor of the First church in Torrington, with very pro-
mising prospects of usefulness. Here he continued to labour during the
rest of his life.
Mr. Gillet's ministry was attended with much more than the ordinary degree
of visible success. At Wolcott, he was privileged to see large numbers
added to his church, as the fruit of several revivals that occurred in connec-
tion with his labours. During the period of his ministry at Torrington,
there were three seasons of deep religious interest among his people, the
results of which were equally benign and extensive. Of one of these last
mentioned revivals he published a detailed and interesting account in an
early volume of the Connecticut Evangelical Magazine.
Mr. Gillet had much of the missionary spirit, and several times volun-
teered to perform missionary labour. Long before the Connecticut Mission-
ary Society was formed, he performed good service in some of the destitute
portions of the counties of New London and Windham. In 1789 or 1790.
he made a missionary tour of several months in the new settlements of
Vermont, under the approbation of the Association of New Haven county,
and almost entirely at his own expense ; his pulpit being supplied a part
of the time by his brethi'en in the vicinity. And at a later period he went,
several times, by appointment from the Connecticut Missionary Society
into those destitute regions, on the same errand of good will to men.
During a few of his last years, Mr. Gillet, on account of the advancing
infirmities of age, was unable to perform the same amount of ministerial
labour to which he had been accustomed ; and yet there was scarcely any
perceptible waning of his intellectual faculties, with the exception only of
his memory, till near the close of life. On being informed of some small
mistakes which he had made in the pulpit, in consequence of the failure of
his recollection, he proposed to his people, in the autumn of 1824, to release
him from his public duties till the following spring, and to employ some
other preacher in his stead ; at the same time voluntarily relinquishing his
salary during that period. He resumed his labours after having devoted a
few months to rest and relaxation, and thenceforward continiied to supply
his pulpit, with few exceptions, as long as he lived. He officiated on the
70 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
last Sabbath of bis life with his usual correctness and fervour. On the
following Thursday, January 19, 1826, he entered into his rest. During
the greater part of the day, there was nothing to indicate to himself or
others the approaching cliange ; for though he complained about noon of a
shooting pain in his breast, it was supposed to bo only a rheumatic affection
to which he had before occasionally been subject. About four o'clock in
the afternoon, his wife, having occasion to step into his study and ask hiui
a question, observed that he made no reply. Upon her repeating the ques-
tion, and still receiving no answer, she hastened to him and found him
unable to speak. He was immediately laid upon the bed, and, after uttering
with difficulty a few broken sentences, ceased to breathe, being in the
seventy-seventh year of his age, and the fifty-third of his ministry. His
funeral was attended on the succeeding Sabbath, and an appropriate sermon
preached by the Rev. Luther Hart of Plymouth, which was published.
Mr. Gillet was married in December, 1779 to Adah, third daughter
of Deacon Josiah llogers of Farmingbury, — a descendant of John llogers
the martyr. They had six children, one of whom, Timothy Phelps, was
graduated at Williams College in 1804, and has been for many years pastor
of the Congregational church in Branford, Conn. Mrs. Gillet died in May,
1839, aged seventy-seven.
Mr. (jrillet published a Sermon in a volume entitled "Sermons on impor-
tant subjects," 1797; and a Sermon at the ordination of his son, 1808.
He was a contributor to the Connecticut Evangelical Magazine, and to the
Christian Spectator.
FROM THE REV. FREDERICK MARSH.
Winchester, Conn., May 27, 1856.
Dear Sir: My first knowledge of the Rev. Alexander Gillet was in New Hart
ford during the great revival of 1798 and '99, when he occasionally came there with
Mr. Mills, Mr. Miller, and others, to assist Dr. Griffin. My particular acquaintance
with him commenced soon after coming to tliis place in 1808. From that time,
(as our parishes were contiguous,) till his decease in 182G, our relations became
more and more intimate, and I can truly say that he ever treated me with pater-
nal kindness. Besides the ordinary ministerial exchanges and intercourse, he used
to visit us and preach in seasons of special religious interest.
In his person, jNIr. Gillet was rather above the medium stature and size, — of a
full habit, broad shoulders, short neck, and large head. His position was erect,
except a slight forward inclination of the head. His face was broad and unusu-
ally square and full, illumined by large, prominent blue eyes, — the whole indi-
cating more of intellect than of vivacity. His ordinary movements were grave
and thoughtful.
In his manners, he was plain, unostentatious, and at the greatest possible
distance from all that is obtrusive. He was courteous and kind, swift to hear and
slow to speak; apparently, esteeming others better than himself, and in all his
intercourse exhibiting a delicate sense of propriety.
As a man of intellect, he held a decidedlj^ high rank. He had an aversion to
every thing superficial. Ever fond of study, he went thoroughly and deeply into
the investigation of his subject, whatever it might be. He was an admirable
linguist; and above all excelled in a knowledge of the Bible, not merely in his own
language but in the original. As a scholar, he was characterized by great accu-
racy. I have heard an eminent minister, who fitted for College under his instruc-
tion, say that he never found any Tutor so accurate and thorough in the languages
ALEXANDER GILLET. f^
&8 was Mr. Gillet. He was also very familiarly and extensively acquainted with
history; and he studied history especially as an exposition of prophecy.
But the crowning attribute of his character was his devoted piety and high
moral excellence. AYhile great simplicity and godly sincerity characterized his
habitual deportment, it was still only by an intimate and extended acquamtanco
with him, and by observing his spirit and conduct in trjing circumstances, that
one could gain any thing like a full view of this part of his character. During
seventeen years of familiar intercourse with him, my mind became constantly
more impressed with the depth of his piety, his unreserved consecration to God,
his self-sacrificing devotedness to the cause of Christ and the highest interests of
his fellow men. Among the most striking elements of his religious character were
meekness, humility, and a conscientious and apparently immutable regard to truth
and duty.
In social life, Mr. Gillet's constitutional reserve and defect of conversational
powers rendered him less interesting and useful than might have been expected
from such resources of mind and heart as he possessed. Ordinarily, he said httle
in ecclesiastical meetings. Patientl}' listening to all that the younger members
chose to say, he would remain silent, unless some Gordian knot was to be untied,
or some latent error detected; and then he would show his opinion to good pur-
pose. With individuals and in private circles, where religious or other important
topics became matter of conversation, he would often talk with much freedom and
interest.
In his ministerial character and relations there was much to be admired and
loved, and some things to be regretted. It may readily be inferred from what
I have already said in respect to his intellectual powers and attainments, his piety,
his studious habits and devotedness to his appropriate work, that his sermons
were of no ordinarj- stamp. And thus it really was. He presented Divine truth
with great clearness and point. Hence his preaching took strong hold of congre-
gations in times of revival. Often in closing his discourse by an extemporary
effusion, he would turn to some one class of hearers, and urge upon them his
subject in its practical bearings with a tenderness and earnestness that were quite
overpowering.
But as his delivery was rendered laborious and difficult by an impediment in
his speech, he could not be called a popular preacher. Those who regarded the man-
ner more than the matter of a discourse would pronounce hhn dull. But he was
a skilful and faithful guide to souls; and his labours were abundanth' blessed not
only to the people to whom he ministered, but to others.
Of pastoral labour Mr. Gillet performed less than man}^ of his brethren. His
constitutional diffidence, his incapacity for entering into free and femiliar inter-
course with people generally, and his love of study, probably all combined to
produce in him a conviction that he could accomplish the greatest good by making
thorough preparation for the pulpit, for occasional meetings, and seasons of prayer,
rather than devoting much of his time to pastoral visits.
On the whole, he was an able, laborious, faithful, and successful minister, — ever
bringing out of his treasure things new and old, edifying the body of Christ, enjoy-
ing the confidence and affectionate regards of his brethren, and exhibiting
uniformly such an example of consistency with liis profession as to leave no room
to doubt either his sincerity or his piety.
I remain, dear Sir, fraternally and truly yours,
FREDERICK MARSH.
72 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
DAVJD OSGOOD, D. D *
177:5— 1822.
FROM MISS LUCY OSGOOD.
Medfokd, May 6, 1848.
Dear Sir: It gives me pleasure to comply with the request contained iu
your letter of the first instant.
My father was born in Andovcr, October, 1747. I do not renioraber the
day of the month, as he was never in the habit of observing aniiiver.saricB.
His father, Mr. Lsaae Osgood, a sensible, pious farmer, lived iu the South-
western part of the town, uear the borders of Towksbury, upon a farm
originally purchased, I believe, by his grandfather ; as my uncle who also
passed his days there, and died only a few years since, counted himself iu
the fourth generation of its po.ssessors, and bequeathed it to my father's
children, and our cousin, J. P. Osgood, Esq., of Boston, the only surviving
child of another brother. The. ancient house is still standing in good pre-
servation, and is occupied by my uncle's excellent widow, 'fhe picture of
it is contained in the memoir of the patriot, James Otis, who was boarding
in my grandfather's family, when a flash of lightning killed him in the door-
way ; partial insanity having caused his friends to seek the retirement of a
country residence for him. Ilis death also was the more memorable, from
his having been often heard to wish that he might die in that way.
My fatlier was the eldest of four sons, of whom the second, Isaac, died
soon after reaching manhood. Kendall, the fourth, was a physician in
Peterborough, N. IL, and died many years before my father. Jacob, the
third son, attained to the good old age of eighty-six years, and died oti the
last day of November, 1838. My father, after labouring on the farm, until
he was far advanced in his nineteenth j'car, begged that he might receive his
portion in a liberal education, the work of the ministry being the object of
his highest ambition. Upon a Saturday evening, as he has often told us, he
at length won his father's reluctant consent to his proposal ; and at break
of day on the following Monday morning, he walked three or four miles in
pursuit of a young schoolmaster, with whom he was slightly acquainted,
that he might consult him in regard to the books which it would be neces-
sary for him to procure and study. From him he heard, for the first time,
of the Latin Accidence, and obtained the loan of it. This he mastered in
a short time, and in a few weeks afterward he placed himself under the
care of the llev. Mr. Emerson of Tlollis, who was in the habit of receiving
youths into his family, and fitting them for College. During these prepara-
tory studies, he was unremitted in his diligence, constantly spending from
fourteen to sixteen hours every day over his books, so that he entered
College in sixteen months from the time of his determining to be a scholar.
After receiving his degree in 1771, he pursued his theological studies for
a year in Cambridge, where he boarded with a Mrs. Boardman, of whom he
always spoke with high respect. I am not aware that his professional
studies were under the direction of any clergyman in special. Of the llev.
Dr. Appleton of Cambridge he always spoke with filial respect and alTection ;
•Holmes' Fun. Serm. — Christian Examiner for 1823.
DAVID OSGOOD. 73
but I have no reason to believe that he was under his superintendence.
Motives of economy compelled him to reside in Andover, at his father's,
as soon as he commenced preaching, and this he did within two years after
leaving College. He preached on probation both in the little town of
JJoxlord and in Charlestown, before coming to Medford, and was very near
being settled in each place, finally missing of them, as he often amused
himself with telling, on account of directly opposite allegations ; being sus-
pected at Boxford of a perilous leaning to Arminianism, and at Charles-
town of an undue bias in favour of high Calvinism.
It was at the close of the year 1773, or early in 1774, that he was first
invited to supply the Medford pulpit, during the long infirmity of the pastor —
Ilev. Ebeuezer Turell,* who was a confirmed valetudinarian for many years
before his death, and did not escape from the suspicion under which invalids
often labour, that he made the most of his ailments. In his case it seemed
corroborated by the fact that, whenever he appeared in the pulpit, he chose to
be the sole speaker, and would never listen to the performances of another.
In those days it was customary for the candidate to be invited about in the
parish from house to house, instead of being sent to a boarding place. My
father used to ride down from Andover on horseback on Saturday, and return
the following Monday. After being entertained in various families, he at last
received an invitation from one Mr. llichard Hall, to lodge at his house on
his next visit to the town. The result of this casual invitation was a
friendship which formed the crowning blessing of both their lives. After
partaking of the hospitality of this worthy man and his excellent wife, he
requested that their house might be his abiding place. They joyfully
consented, and he was their inmate during the ensuing twelve years. Mrs.
Hall was just two years older than himself, and Mr. Hall ten years. She
had been married when only seventeen years of age, and having lost her
only child in infancy, she cherished my father both as a mother and a
sister. Her husband shared all her feelings, and the triple tie, thus early
formed, became, if possible, stronger and stronger during the forty-eight
years that it continued. In this excellent couple my father Avas blessed
with friends, who felt for him even more than he felt for himself. In all
his afliictions they were afflicted, and in whatever harassed or disturbed
him, their overflowing sympathy more than divided the burden. In innu-
merable instances, the natural impetuosity of his temper was checked solely
by unwillingness to occasion uneasiness to these ever watchful guardians
of his happiness ; while they, on the other part, always looked up to him
as to a superior intelligence, without, however, losing their own independ-
♦ Ebenezek TuuELL was born in Boston, February 0, 1701; was graduated at Harvard
College in 1721; was ordained pastor of the eliurch in iMeuford, November 25, 1724; and died
December 8, 1778, aged seventy-eight. He published a Sermon at the ordination of Samuel
("oolic ; [v\ho was born at Hadley in 1708; was graduated at Harvard College in 1735; was
ordained jinstor of the church in West Cambridge, September 12, 17;J'J; and died Juno 4, 178H.
He pablislied ii, Sermon at the ordination of Cotton Brown, who was a native of Haverhill,
Mass., was grailuated at Harvard College in 1743; was ordained pastor of the church in Brook-
line, October 2(), 1748, and died April 13, 1751, aged twenty-live; a Sermon at the ordination
of Nathaniel Bobbins, who was born at Lexington in 172fi, was graduated at Harvard College
ill 1747, was ordained pastor of the church in Milton, 3Iass., February 13, 1750, and died May
19, 171)5, aged sixty-nine; Election Sermon, 1770: a Sermon commemorative of the bloody
tragedy at Lexington, 1777;] Direction to his people with relation to the present times, with
reasons why it is made public, 1742 ; Dialogue between a minister and his neighbour about the
times, 1742; Brief and plain Exhortation to his people on the late Fast, 1747-48; The Life
and character of the Rev. Dr. Colman, 1749; Detection of Witchcraft, Masa. Hist. Coll.
X. 2d series.
Vol. II. 10
74 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
encc, which was manifested on every proper occasion in all plainness of
speech, by cautions as well as commendations. Mr. Hull's intellectual
endowments were of no distinguished order ; but he belonged to one of the
most respectable families in the place, and his inflexible integrity, unweariud
industry, and methodical habits of doing business, united to his good judg-
ment, rendered him one of the most respected citizens of the town ; while
the winning sweetness of his disposition and generous disinterestedness of
his whole character, caused him to be warmly loved by those who wore his
superiors in more t>liiniug accomplishments. One of my earliest recollec-
tions is my father's often expressed desire that he might not outlive these
dear friends: and the wish was granted; as, several years after his decease,
they dropped away in extreme old age, when their sensibilities had become
blunted by slow decay.
A little anecdote will show you the estimation in which their mutual
friendship was held in the town during their life time. Ten years or more
before my father's decease, Deacon Hall had a dangerous fit of illness. A
note was read upon his behalf on the Sabbath, with another — for a very
intemperate Irishman, who was also ill. They both recovered, and the first
time the Irishman went abroad, his next door neighbour, a merry sea captain,
accosted him with, "Well Patrick, you may bless Heaven, till your latest
day, for having been sick at the same time witli the Deacon, for the Doctor
prayed so hard to keep him here, that he was obliged to beg a little for you."
On the 14th of September, 1774, my father was ordained as the colleague
of the Rev. Mr. Turell, whose death did not take place until several years
afterward. In November, 1786, my father married Miss Hannah Breed,
who then resided in Billerica, but was a native of Charlestown, and had
always lived there until the town was burnt, when my grandmother removed
with her second husband to Billerica, my mother's father having died in
early life abroad. My grandmother was the daughter of Richard Foster of
Charlestown, Sherifi" under the old government. My father and mother
were born within two months of one another, and were forty years old when
they became parents. My mother died January 4, 1818, a few days after
entering on her seventy-first year. She had been a great invalid for the
preceding twelve years, as an injury received by the overturning of a chaise
had subjected her to frequent bleeding of the lungs, though she finally died
of paralysis — the disease prevalent in her family. Her death was sudden,
after a few hours' illness, and though it took place at one o'clock on the
morning of the Sabbath, my father preached on both parts of the following
day, pleading in opposition to the remonstrances of some of his friends, that
as his preparation fur the pulpit was completed, he should be more able to
command his feelings there than any where else. To the manner in which
he acquitted himself on that trying occasion, and the effect produced by
his deportment on the audience, a young clerical friend who was present
afterward alluded, with deep sensibility, in a little obituary notice written
for the Christian Register at the time of his death.
Few lives were ever less varied by outward events of a personal character
than my father's ; but he had within himself a perennial freshness of feeling,
which caused him to be always interested in his studies, in the stirring
events of the times in which he lived, and in the concerns of those around
him. He never sought to vary the even routine of duty by recreations, in the
usual acceptation of the word. To distant journeys he was utterly averse.
DAVID OSGOOD. %
As he had been necessitated to practise the strictest economy in the early
part of life, he had enjoyed no opportunity to cultivate a taste for frequent
change of scene, while the remarkable vigour of his constitution enabled him
to lead a more sedentary life than can be followed with impunity by the
generality of students. Books were his perpetual solace and delight. The
hurried manner in which he received his literary education, having allowed
him no leisure for any thorough acquaintance with the Greek and Roman
classics, they possessed all the charm of novelty for him in his more advanced
age. In the latter years of his life, he read the Greek historians, orators
and tragedians with the liveliest pleasure. As the hour immediately succeed-
ing breakfast was always devoted by him to these studies, it was in his
power, during a succession of years, to read all the most distinguished
Greek and Roman authors. The whole of Plutarch's writings, and many
of the volumes of Plato, with the histories of Herodotus and Thucydides
received his delighted attention ; and to these noble sources, he was pro-
bably much indebted for the continued growth of his mind, as well as for the
freshness and accuracy which were thought by many to distinguish his
compositions.
His habits of study differed from those of many clergymen. His prepa-
ration for the ensuing Sabbath usually commenced early in the week, often
on Monday, unless there were sick persons to be visited. Hence, upon the
arrival of Saturday, he was rarely hurried, though he always devoted the
afternoon and evenitig of that day, to the closest revision of his preparations
for the morrow. His other evenings were usually given to general reading.
He always wrote slowly and with fastidious care ; but he never ceased from the
labour of composition. Having commenced an exposition of the Scriptures,
many years before his decease, it was continued to the last week of his life,
and he often rejoiced at feeling himself laid, as it were, under a necessity,
imposed by this task, of writing more or less every week.
His peculiarities, of course, can be more easily seized and delineated by
comparative strangers than by his children ; and his ardent, decided character
and vehemence of spirit gave him, no doubt, a full proportion of them. The
few last years of his life were, in one respect most happy, as he saw himself
surrounded by a number of young friends, just entering on the ministry,
whom he could with reason regard, in some measure at least, as the fruits
of his own labours. He expressed the highest satisfaction, when, in the
forty-fifth year of his ministry, he stood in the pulpit for the first time with
one of his own parishioners. Two others in succession occupied that place
with him previous to his death, and they were followed shortly afterward by
three more.
if the above reminiscences, dear Sir, should be of any use, I shall be
doubly obliged to you for having afforded me this opportunity of refreshing
my own mind and heart by recalling the dear and honoured images of the
parents and friends who laid the foundation of all the happiness which I
have enjoyed in life.
Yours, with gratitude and respect,
L. OSGOOD.
76 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
FROM THE REV. JOHN FIERCE, D.D.
Bkookline, Mass., March 3, 1848.
My dear Brother: I cheerfully comply with your request for some of my
reminiscences of Dr. Osgood, though you will scarcely expect anything from
me that does not come in the form of naked fact.s. I can speak of him from
an intimate and protracted acquaintance, and the veneration with which I
have always regarded him, renders it no unwelcome oiSce for me to bear
testimony to his eminently useful life and his exalted and original character.
Dr. Osgood's mind matured slowly. He was thirty-six years old when
he published his first sermon ; and at the age of forty-six, he had published
only three I well recollect that, at College, where I repeatedly heard him
preach, from 1789 to 1793, he was not considered as holding the distin-
guished rank as a preacher which he afterwards attained.
The first thing which gave hiui great celebrity, was a political sermon,
in 1794, occasioned by an appeal to the people from the decision of the Amer-
ican government, under Washington, by Grenet, minister to the United States
from the French Ptepublic. This Discourse passed through three editions
within a few months, — the last at Philadelphia. From this period he was
greatly admired and caressed by many of our leading politicians of the
Federal school, and both in public and in private he stood forth the earnest
and powerful advocate of their principles. It is not a little remarkable
that of his twenty-two published discourses, just one half, should be on
political subjects. Of these the most celebrated was his Election sermon
preached in 1809. It was nearly two hours in the delivery ; was pronounced
wholly memoriter, and with prodigious effect.
The Doctor enjoyed such a degree of health as to be able, throughout his
whole ministry, almost uninterruptedly to supply his pulpit ; — nevertheless,
during a number of his last years, he was in the habitual anticipation of his
departure ; and never did he allude to the event without the deepest solem-
nity. It was a frequent topic of his devotions that his life and ministry
might terminate together ; and his prayers were remarkably answered.
On Sabbath, the first of December, he preached twice and administered
the Lord's Supper. On the Tuesday following, there was a violent snow
storm, and he busied himself in clearing the snow from his paths. This
exercise gave him a cold. The succeeding Thursday, however, being
Thanksgiving day, he preached, and with great power and fervour. The
next day he began to keep to his house ; and a candidate preached for him
the following Sabbath. On Wednesday, December 11th, his son from
Boston visited him, and asked medical advice of Governor Brooks, who
was a very skilful physician. The Governor saw notliing alarming in his
case, and, as he was about to retire. Dr. Osgood remarked, -'Governor,
when you came in, I was winding up my watch ; and it reminds me of an
occurrence in the life of Bishop Newton — in the last day of his life, he
called for his watch, wound it up, and added, 'This is the last time 1 shall
wind up my watch;' and he actually died in less than twenty-four hours.
Who knows but this may be the last time with me?" But, after a pause,
he subjoined, "I shall, however, live my appointed time." His son slept
in the chamber with him ; and at one in the morning. Dr. Osgood requested
him to bring him some grapes which the Governor had sent to him the day
before. He did so, and on leaving him, observed no alteration in his
DAVID OSGOOD. ^f
symptoms. But, before falling asleep, he lieard him make an unusual noise.
He ran to his bed and found him with his eyes fixed, and unable to speak ;
and before his daughters could reach his chamber, his spirit had fled. On
Saturday, the 14th of December, he was interred, — President Kirkland
offering the funeral prayer, and Dr. Holmes of Cambridge preaching the
sermon from II Timothy iv. 6, 7.
Dr. Osgood was of about the middle height, inclining, in the latter part
of his life, to corpulency. He was, to the last, erect in stature. His
countenance was strongly marked, indicating great power of intellect and
firmness of purpose.
He "ruled well his household;" but whatever of austerity belonged to
him, it never prevented a free intercourse between himself and his children.
From the time of the death of his wife, which occurred several years before his
own, his two daughters were his housekeepers. These he had instructed
with great care, so that they are among our most distinguished proficients
in the Latin and Greek languages. His only son bearing his father's name, a
graduate of Harvard College in 1813, is a physician of respectability in Boston.
I believe he wrote a much smaller number of sermons than is common
during so long a ministry. Most of them, however, were so thoroughly
elaborated that they might very well have been sent to the press without
revision. His favourite discourses he often repeated at home; and, in his
later years, he delivered them wliolly memoritcr, whenever he preached on
exchange, so that they became generally celebrated in the neighbouring
societies. He had a parishioner who, though simple enough in other respects,
had a remarkably retentive memory ; and, when hearing the Doctor preach
an old sermon, he used to raise his arm and signify with his fingers how
many times it had been preached before.
In the pulpit, he certainly attained an eminence tbat was reached by few
of his contemporaries. ' In the delivery of his sermons he was usually very
deliberate ; but when he became greatly excited, his uttei'ance waxed rapid
and earnest, and he came down upon his audience with the overwhelming
force of a torrent. To the discourses which he committed to memory, his
stirring and impassioned delivery gave the effect, in a great degree, of
extemporaneous efforts.
For some of the last years of his life, he solicited no exchanges ; but his
services were much sought, not only on special, but also on common,
occasions, and he was always ready to bestow them.
He received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Yale College in 1797.
The following is a list of Dr. Osgood's publications: — A Thanksgiving
Sermon, 1783. A Sermon at the installation of the Rev. Peter Thacher,
1785. Artillery Election Sermon, 1788. A Sermon at the ordination of
Nathaniel Thayer, 1793. Annual Thanksgiving Sermon, 1794. National
Thanksgiving Sermon, 1795. Annual Thanksgiving Sermon, 1795. A
Sermon on the death of a child, 1797. National Fast Sermon, 1798. A
Sermon before the Convention of Congregational minisfbrs, 1798. A
Discourse at the ordination of Leonard Woods, 1798. The Devil let loose:
National Fast Sermon, 1799. A Sermon on the death of Washington,
1799. Dudleian Lecture, 1802. A Sermon at the funeral of the Rev.
Joseph Roby,* 1803. Two Discourses on Baptism, 1804. Importance of
* .rosEPH Roby was born in Boston in the beginning of the year 1724; was graduated at
i:Arvard College in 1742; was ordained pastor of the Second Church in Lynn, in August, 1762;
"73 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
professing and practising religion : A Sermon in the Columbian Preacher,
1808. Election Sermon, 1809. A Discourse delivered at Cambridgo in
the hearing of the University, (Political,) ISIO. A Solemn Protest against
the late Declaration of War : A Sermon on the next Lord's day after the
tidings of it were received, 1812. A Sermon at the ordination of Convers
Francis, 1819. Sermons, one volume, 8vo, (Posthumous,) 1824.
If the above reminiscences of a truly remarkable man prove of any service
to you, it will give great pleasure to
Your sincere and unalterable friend,
JOHN PIERCE.
FROM THE REV. CONVERS FRANCIS, D. D.,
PROFESSOR IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY.
Cambridge, May 23, 1848.
Dear Sir : My promise to give you such reminiscences of Dr. Osgood as might
offer themselves, 1 fear you will think is but tardily fulfilled; and now that I have
found time to set about it, 1 apprehend that, restricted as 1 am to personal recol-
lections, I can tell you little, independent of what you know from other sources,
that can be of much value.
My earliest remembrances of Dr. Osgood are associated with a feeling of far-
off reverence, as of one who was a spiritual ruler by some Divine right. This
.sentiment with regard to the minister, which, in other days, was in some sort a
part of the training of a New England boy, settled itself among my childish
tlioughts the more deeply perhaps, because he never made himself familiar with
the children of the parish, nor relieved the awe he inspired by small talk with
them. His countenance, marked with strong lines of serious and severe thought,
his authoritative eye, shaded by a heavy brow, served to strengthen not a little
the same feeling. In going to the town school, where I got my reading, writing,
and arithmetic, I always passed round the corner of his house, in which was his
study; in pleasant weather, he was generally sitting at 'the window, sometimes
open, in one of the old fashioned gowns with large figures upon it. The man and
the gown were revered mysteries to me; and when he turned his eyes from under
their deep pent house, as he sometimes did upon the passing boy, I used to feel,
when I made my low bow, a strange wonder upon my spirit, as if he belonged to
a class of beings different from me. When perhaps, once a year, he visited the
school, it was a great state occasion to the boys; and I should have liked to see
the stripling who would have been hardy enough to whisper or smile in that pre-
sence. One experience remains deep in my memory. It was his custom, long
before the days of Sunday-schools, on one day in each year, to have what was called
a " catechising of the children of the parish." Of this a formal and solemn notice
from the pulpit was given on a Sunday; it was to take place " by the leave of Provi-
dence," at the meeting-house on the afternoon of the next Thursd.ay. On these
occasions, the boys and girls wxre all dressed in their best and sent to the church.
There the good minister stood at thecomnmnion table, gathered us all around him,
and questioned us Avith paternal solemnitj^ through the length and breadth of the
Westminster Assembly's Catechism, which he used to tell us was the next best
book to the Bible*— though, by the way, it did by no means represent the Theo-
logy of his later years. With the contents of the Catechism many of the assem-
bled urchins would often prove themselves to have but a miserably superficial
acquaintance. On one of the occasions of this deficiency, after reproving the
continued in the regular discharge of his ministerial duties till August 1802, when he was first
taken oif from his work by the infirmities of age; and died January 31, 1803, in the fifty-first
year of his ministry, and the eightieth of his age. lie published a Fast Seimon, 1794.
DAVID OSGOOD. 79
negligent with stern but wholesome words, he said — " I have here in mj' hand a
very pretty book, and I will make a present of it to any boy or girl who will get
the whole of the Catechism by heart, and come to my house and say it to nic."
This operated as a strong lure to my imagination; for the gift of a book from Dr.
Osgood was so extraordinary a grace as can hardly be conceived of in these days.
when ministers go about their parishes dropping tracts and booklets among the
children. The covers of the book, as he held it up, were striped with yellow and
black, and looked exceedingly tempting. As I went home, I formed " the fixed
resolve " to try for the prize. Straightway I bent all my powers of memory to
the task, between schools, after school, in intervals of work, and in the evenings.
I remember often going away by myself in the shed and in the garden for the pur-
pose, to be free from interruption. I can't say how long it took me, but I know
days and weeks of heavy, dry toil (for I understood very liiPtle of what I was
forcing into my memory) passed before I felt confident enough of mj' proficiency
to present myself at the ordeal. Those questions about "election," " sanctifica-
tion," &c., were a sore trial to my powers of recollection. But at last I ventured
to feel sure that I was ready, and announced it to my mother, who the next morn-
ing dressed me in my best jacket and trowsers and sent me to Dr. Osgood's. My
awe-struck spirit trembled when he took me into his study and began the exami-
nation. He did not begin at the beginning, and go through, but skipped about
amidst the >vilderness of questions, stopping chiefly on those which he thought the
hardest and least likeh' to be remembered by a boy of eight or ten years, — such
as " What is the Lord's Supper '^ " " What is Baptism ? " " What is Justifi-
cation?" I had the good fortune to remember ever}^ word, and to answer
promptly and correctly. "Well," said he, "you are a good boy; now go to
school, and I will send the book to the schoolmaster, who shall present it to you
before the school, and tell them what it is for." Away I went with a light heart,
and in due tiine, I was called out by the master, and presented with the prize for
which I had toiled. Great was my triumph. The book proved to be a copy of
the Westminster Assembly's Catechism with several of Dr. Watts' Hymns for
children. I have it still; and the memories it suggests make me value it perhaps
more than any other book in my library.
My early recollections of Dr. Osgood's pulpit services are strong, though of
course I could not appreciate them as I did subsequently. But even when I was
a child, they seemed to me something very extraordinary, — different from those
of any other minister. With the exception of the occasional heaviness and want
of interest, to which the best ministers are liable, they had in them a strength, a
power, that took you up and carried you on, without waiting to ask your atten-
tion. His prayers were evidently elaborated with devout care; they were always
strong and earnest; and on public and extraordinary occasions were remarkable
specimens of what Sir John Hawkins calls " precatory eloquence." There were
a certain number of them, which, in the usual services of Sunday, he so constantly
repeated, totidem verbis, that, when I was young, I could easily rehearse large
portions of them, and while he was praying, could anticipate what was coming
next. In pouring out his petitions, his voice frequently took on a solemn or pathe-
tic energy, and his countenance an expression of fervent entreatj', — his eye being
sometimes suffused with a tear, which gave the deepest and most touching effect to
the supplications. In these devotional exercises, he made not a little use of strong
and bold figures, both from the Scriptures and of his own construction. Allow
me to mention one of these, because it was connected with a criticism that amused
some of his parishioners. For years he had been accustomed to say in one of his
prayers — "Ride forth. King Jesus, triumphant on the word of truth; make it
like a sword to pierce, and like a hammer to break in pieces, and dissolve the hard
and stony heart into godly sorrow for sin." When the Hon. Timothy Bigelow
(distinguished as you remember in legal and political life) removed from Groton
30 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
to Medford, he was struck, on hearing- the above sentence in the praj'crs of the
church, Avith its singuhir mixture of ligurative ideas, and he ventured, after sonic
acquaintance with Dr. Osgood, to suggest to him a critical remark upon it; —
" First," said he, "you make the word of truth as a horse to ride upon; then,
suddenly, it becomes a sword, and straightway^ is turned into a hammer, and this
hammer, not only breaks, but — what is an extraordinary thing for a hammer to
d5 — dissolves the hard and stony heart." It was noticed that Dr. (Xsgood dis-
continued the use of that sentence, though tlie cause of its omission, for some time,
was unknown. This, at least, was the current anecdote; and I have mentioned
it only to show how easily even a good scholar and writer may, in the long con-
tmued use of certain phraseology, become insensible to its rhetorical impropriety.
Dr. Osgood's prayers, as they come up in my early and maturer recollection,
seem to me to liav-'e been the very utterance of devout and frequently of sublime
fervour. This was especially true on great public occasions. I believe I have
known no one to whose devotions the admirable description of Hannah More was
more trul}'' applicable; — " Prayer is the application of want to Him who alone can
relieve it; the confession of sin to Him v/ho alone can pardon it. It is the urgency of
poverty, the prostration of humility, the fervency of penitence, the confidence of
trust. It is not eloquence, but earnestness; not the definition of helplessness,
but the feeling of it; not figures of speech, but compunction of soul. It is the
' Lord save us — we perish ' of drowning Peter — the cry of faith to the ear of
mercy."
The character of Dr. Osgood's preaching, you doubtless know very well from
various sources. There were times, when, for vigour, boldness, and authoritative
dignity, it probably surpassed that of any other man of his day in New England.
A considerable portion of his regular preaching (as, 1 suppose is the case generally
with even the most gifted in the pulpit) was common-place, or at least not
particular]}^ interesting; but very often he rose, I think, to the highest plane of
the Christian orator. I remember to have heard that when Daniel Webster
removed from New Hampshire to Boston, and listened to Dr. Osgood for the first
time in tlie Brattle-Square church, he said it was the most impressive eloquence
it had ever been his fortune to hear. I will not vouch for the truth of the anecdote,
but can easily believe it; for I know Dr. Osgood made this impression on some of
the most distinguished laymen. My own early remembrance of his appearance
and Avords in the pulpit is one of unmingled reverence. He seemed to me like an
apostolic messenger from God. The pulpit evidently was, as old Herbert say's,
his "joy and throne." Indeed, he used to say that he loved to preach; his whole
strong, inward nature went into the work. His whitening and at lengtli silvered
hair, his dignified look, and what I may call the whole presence of the man,
enhanced the effect of the earnestness, and frequently the awful solemnity, with
which he took our souls into the midst of the great truths of eternity. Such was
the impression he left on my feelings and mind when a boy; and as I grew up to
manhood, I think it was never changed, except to become deeper. Whatever
other fliults you might find, you would most surely feel that he was a great and
whole reality; there was no sham, and no approach to a sham, there. One
circumstance in his manner remains indelibly fixed in my mind. He sometime.*: —
often, I think, committed to memory parts of his sermons with which he had
taken peculiar pains, or which he thought peculiarly important. When he came
to deliver these, he would deliberately take off his spectacles, and either lay them
on the pulpit cushion, or hold them in one hand; then with an altered and subdued
voice, and with a sort of gathering up of his whole person, he would say, " my
brethren," and then followed the earnest appeal, or the powerful statement, or the
vivid description. When the spsdacks were takan off, we always knew that some-
thing good and great was coming — it was a signal which bade us expect something
peculiar; but, though we were thus forewarned, the effect was not diminished.
DAVID OSGOOD. 81
Sometimes he committed to memory, I believe, whole sermons, especially for
remarkable public occasions; and this gave increased power to his speaking. Here
an anecdote occurs to me, illustrating in connection with the above named habit, his
plainness — some would call it inconsiderate severity, of speech. A young candidate
for settlement preached for liim one Sunday, and had taken pains to commit his ser-
mons to memory. Tlie Doctor was not exceedingly pleased with the discourses;
and after the services, it was reported, said, among other things, to the young
man, — " I observed you had gotten your sermons by heart; i do so myself some-
times, but I never do it unless I am sure I have a good sermon, worth the labour;
now I don't think your discourses were worth committing." Doubtless the young
l)reacher was mortified and hurt b}^ the apparently harsh remark; but such was
the Doctor's manner that one wiio knew him would perceive he really meant
nothing unkind by it.
When I was a youth he commenced a course of expositions of the Old Testa-
ment as a part of his pulpit services : these were generally short and introduced
in addition to the usual service; sometimes longer and more elaborate, and took
the place of the seimon. They were listened to with great interest, for the most
part, and were so written as to be instructive and edifying, even to the less enlight-
ened portion of the congregation. Though they contained a con.siderable share of
learned criticism, I remember that my father, a mechanic, and with but very
slender education, was always delighted with them, and used to talk about them
after meeting, as indeed he did about the preaching generally; and his expressions
of profound reverence for the minister are among my earliest recollections. A
few of these expositions are published in connection with Dr. Osgood's volume of
sermons. Ilis discourses, even those least eloquent, were weighty, grave, and
well considered — certainly there was in them nothing of what Rowland Hill
called " whipt-syllabub Divinity." 1 suppose most of those who had been
accustomed to hear and admire him, and those who had heard a good deal about
him, were a little disappointed in the printed sermons, and did not find all the
power they expected there. But is not this always the case with the published
sermons of distinguished pulpit orators.' You cannot print that nameless element
of power, — the charm which gave the living spealcer such an ascendency.
Charles James Fox used to say " If a speech read well, it is a bad speech." This,
I think, is going too far; but I can easily understand the difference of which
Jeremy Taylor speaks, between " sermons when they first strike the ear, and
when they are offered to the eye." I can truly say that, on the whole. Dr. Osgood
came nearer than any one I knew in my early daj^s to the standard which Cowper
set, when he portrayed
" a preacher such as Paul,
" TVere he on earth, would hear, approve and own."
I am sure he always made himself felt among even the first and best men m the
community, as one whose words and manner were loaded with power.
Dr. Osgood made, it might be said, no parish visits. Peiliaps never a minister
lived so long as he, and did so httle of this duty, or what most ministers, and I-
think very justly, deem a duty. He was known by his parishioners only in the
pulpit, unless Miey took pains to get and keep up access to him. I believe I may
say that, from my earliest remembrance to my manhood, I never saw him in my
father's house, except once, when he came to ofiiciat'e at my mother's funeral;
and again, when he performed the marriage service for a sister. "What were his
reasons for this neglect of parochial intercourse 1 know not : perhaps he might thiiik,
as Jonathan Edwards did, that this was not the work to which he was called and
fitted. He was n(3t an unsociable man in his nature; for he had free talk and a
hearty laugh ready' always for those whom he met in the hours of pleasant inter-
course. But he was not a man of general sociability, — not a man who could
meet all sorts of people, and call them out and make them easy, by entering spou-
Vol. II. 11
82 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
taneously on some common gruund wiUi tlicni. This in:iptne.s.s for misiccllaiioous
intercourse was confirmed by liis love of study, and periiaps by his entering into
domestic rehitions so late in life. It was always a wonder to ine that his constant
uoglect of parochial visitinj; excited no disall'ection among his people — nothing of
this kind ever ajjpeared. One great rea.son jirobably was, tliat they were proud of
him as a gifted and eminent [)reaclier; and after a while they became accustomed to
the defect as a matter of course, ami adjusted their expectations accordingly. Tl>e
length of his services on the Sabl)ath was annoying to some of his parishioners,
especially on cold winter days, in a iiouse who.se atmosphere was never softened
by stove or furnace, and wliose windows rattled in the blast. I well rememlx;i
the occasional thum[)ing of Icet on the lloor, and the bustle in wrapping the capes
of great coats about the ears. One of his parishioners, an odd and plain spoken
man, once told him that he would not go to meeting in winter, except on one con-
dition, namely: — that as soon as the clock (which in later years they had in the
church) struck twelve, he might get up and leave the house, whether the service was
over or not. The Doctor laughed and agreed to the condition; and the parish-
ioner, I was told, (for 1 was not then in ^ledford,) had occasion more than once
to avail himself of tlie stipulated liberty, and did not fail to do so.
Every body who has heard of Dr. O.sgood at all, has heard, I suppose, of his
apparently haish and i-ude sayings, and of his neglect or contempt of what the
world calls puhtenetjs or decorum. Anecdotes not a few, to this point, might be
gathered; but if I should detail them, it would only be to repeat what you have
probably already heard; and such things, after all, it is not well to preserve.
From the observation of many years, 1 can say with confidence that 1 do not
believe there was any real harshness or rudeness, — or if any, but very little, in
his true chai'acter; thougli I can easily believe that sometimes the appearance of
these qualities was so strong, that people might not be blamed for ascribing them
to him. And if there was in his bearing or conduct sometimes a want of polite-
ness or decorum, it was from no purpose or wish on his part to violate the rules
of comity or good breeding. T\ie truth was, he was originally a man of strong
and somewhat rough nature, who abhorred disguise, pretence, and quackery of
all sorts, — open, bold, and uncompromising — thinking much of idealities and little of
conventional standards. The ])osition of a New England minister in former days,
giving iiim, aa it did, a certain privilege of caste, was not likely, as you know, to
restrain or modify these qualities; — it rather tended to confirm and exaggerate
them l)y allowing him to exempt himself, if he so cho.se, from some of the salutary
restrictions by which other men were bound. Then, till middle age, he was a
.solitary student and bachelor, leading a life most likely to give unchecked develop-
ment to liis individual peculiaritie.<!. When you consider these circumstances, it is
not wonderful that a man of his temperament should sometimes say and do things
which would hurt the sensibility of the refined, or shock the strict observers of
jtropricty. He had rough impulses, and spoke blunt words; — but I am sure that,
in almost every case, what might appear to be unkindness or rudeness, was in
reahty the result of uncalculating, spontaneous honesty of soul. It was to be
regretted that his manners and words had not experienced more of the softening
and subduing influence which the friction of life generally imparts to men; though
j)erhaps then we should have mis.scd somewhat of the fresh energy which ran
through his character and manifestations. But his heart was essentially and
truly a kind, Christian, noble heart, and would sometimes melt into an unex-
jiected tenderness, that was the more touching in a man of his strong qualities.
I'or myself, I must say that from the earliest to the latest period, I always found
him kind, benevolent, and considerate towards me. In my youth indeed, I stood
in awe of him; but it was not because I saw in him any thing harsh or severe. I
j)reached my first sermons in his pulpit ; it \\%as a trying day to me, as you may
tuppose; but the sharpness of the trial was increased by his taking me into his
DAVID OSGOOD. §3
study before meeting and saying, — " Come, you must read your discourses to me
before you preach, that I may give 3-ou my opinion of them." With no little
perturbation, I complied, and as 1 read, he would say to some of my youthful
crudities of thought or expression — "That won't do — you must alter that," &c.
I passed through the ordeal with trembling on my spirit; and although the good
man's manner wa,s certainly not soft or flattering, yet he meant it all in kindness,
and afterwards he encouraged, and comforted, and animated me not a little. It
should be observed that increasing years had the effect of softening and mellowing
his feelings, as well as enlarging his charity on points of faith. As he grew older,
he grew more mild, gentle, and forbearing, both in judgment and in manners,
verifying the apothegm of Horace — " Lenit albescens animos capillus." I noticed
this happy effect of age in several instances' in which he manifested remarkable
mildness, humility, and calmness, where those who knew his temperament would
have expected indignation or rebuke- In some matters of taste, there was in his
day less of fastidiousness or of refinement than at present; but he, I think, was
more free in these respects, than others even of his old fiishioned contemporaries
lie would, for instance, read in a clear, strong voice, and without hesitation, in
tlie pulpit, parts of the Old Testament, which I suppose, no clergyman, now at
least, could prevail upon himself to give utterance to in public. This he did, I
think, from perfect naturalness of feeling, not from bad taste; he had no idea that
any one could be disturbed or offended with what seemed to him a simple matter
of fact, or a thing of course, especially as a part of the sacred volume. I have
sometimes thought that what was often construed as severity or roughness in Dr.
Osgood, might have been simply the result of more fearlessness than other men
possessed. Moral courage was one of the strong elements of his character; — it
never quailed; he Avould say what he thought he ought to say, or what the case
required, let men think what they would of it. Were there as many devils to
oppose him, as there were tiles on the houses, as Luther said, so he would say —
" I will go on." It is easy to see that a man with such feelings and principles
might often be misconstrued or misrepresented. Nevertheless, the lion heart is
often the kindest of hearts.
Among my early vivid recollections is that of Dr. Osgood's political preaching.
His sermons of this kind were chiefly published, — and I suppose you have seen
them. By an abuse of terms, men now call it preaching politics to apply the
great principles of Christian justice, truth, and love to the doings of nations, and
the institutions of society ; though I call this Christian preaching and of a high
order too. Dr. Osgood's discourses on these subjects, doubtless, were sometimes
really the preaching of politics in the common meaning of that phrase ; that is,
they took sides verj^ strongly for one party, and against another, on the political
questions then before the country. Perhaps there was in them more of heat and
vehemence, caught from the partisan warfare of the times, than could easily be
justified. But we should remember this was with him not a matter of mere
animosity or party spirit, but sprang from his deep, earnest conviction that
truth and righteousness required liim to take such a position, and that the
interests of good morals and religion were very seriously involved in the con-
test. Buonaparte and the French, Mr. Jefferson and his party, and the war of
1812 with Great Britain, were the points on which the keen indignation and stern
invective of Dr. Osgood were concentrated. I can almost hear the tones still
ringing in my ears. Well do I remember seeing a violent democrat, who sat in a
pew near my father's, get up in high wrath, and go out of tlic house; and as he
passed where I sat, I could mark with fearful interest the gathered and dark scowl
upon his face.
In his old age, I believe he very sincerely regretted that he had, on some occa-
sions, allowed the warmth of political feeling to carry him so far in the pulpit.
At least I remember that one of his best parishioners told me that the Doctor
84 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
expressed this regret to him with no little solemnity of manner. It ought to be
said, however, that his politics, like all the important action of his mind, had a
deei)ly religious basis, and that, as I have already observed — he solemnly believed
great and sacred principles to be at stake in the controversy.
With regard to Dr. Osgood's theological opinions, 1 know not whether it be
necessary to say any thing, as perliaps you know all that can be known. Yet a
word or two may not be out of place; and 1 can really say with the utmost sin-
cerity that it is with mo purely a question of fact, in which I have no anxiety to
make out one side or the other. I have always understood, and presume there is
no doubt, that he began his ministry, and continued it for some years, a very
thorough Calvinist. Anecdotes illustrating this position of his opinions are told,
which sometimes take an amusing form. As little doubt can there be that, as years
rolled on, his mind, on several points, underwent no inconsiderable change. Not
perhaps that this change shaped itself in definite propositions, even to his own mind,
but rather expressed itself in general habits of thought, alien from his ancient views,
or in a totally altered estimate of the importance of those views. With the Uni-
tarian Theology, I do not think he had any s)'mpalhy; though the largest part
of those with wliom he loved best to associate were of that way of thinking. I
remember, when I was in College, he preached once at Dr. Holmes'; and in the
course of his sermon, having quoted some strong passage of Scripture on the
subject of Christ's Divinity, he turned round, (as we thought on purpose, though
it might have been accidental,) towards the place where the President and some
Professors were sitting, and said with energetic emphasis — "What will our
Socinian brethren say to this ?" We students used to talk of it as a bold, good
hit, though perhaps not quite fair. The truth is, Dr. Osgood always seemed to
me one who could not be classed under the named and regular category of any
sect. His repugnance to making creeds the condition of the Christian name and
character was far greater than his attachment to any creed on his own part; and
this seemed to me to express his chief peculiarity as to theological position. His
strenuous advocacy of ecclesiastical freedom, you know better than I can tell you.
On the whole, he was a truly good and great man; an earnest seeker, and a
fearless, eloquent preacher, of God's truth; — of a robust, manly, vigorous mind,
and of a heart full of unceremonious frankness, but b}^ no means destitute of
gentle and kind affections. He was a dear lover of freedom; and his large soul
would endure no confinement, or Avould chafe against its bars like the encaged
lion. The cause of Christ always lay next his heart; and in that cause he found
the principle of service to all the great interests of humanity, as well as of the
Church. He was a whole-souled man, with no littleness or feebleness, thirsting
for realities and scorning shams. I love to think of his venerable form as he was
once among us; and above all, I love to think of him as wearing the " crown of
glory that fadeth not away."
Yours with sincere regard,
CONVERS FRANCIS.
SAMUEL SPRING. §5
SAMUEL SPRING, D. D.*
1774—1819.
Samuel Spring, the son of John Spring, was born at Northbridge,
Mass., February 27, (0. S.,) 1746. His father was a substantial and
wealthy farmer, and his mother, whose maiden name was Reed, was distin-
guished for an elevated and fervent piety. At the age of eighteen, and
before he considered himself the subject of a distinct and satisfactory Chris-
tian experience, he felt a strong desire to preach the Gospel ; and, with
reference to this, to obtain a liberal education. His father, who felt the
need of his assistance on the farm, was reluctant to yield to the idea of his
going to College ; while his mother, in the hope that he might become a
good and useful minister, strongly favoured his wishes. Having, however,
obtained his father's consent, he commenced a course of study preparatory
to entering College, under the instruction of the Rev. Nathan Webbt of
Uxbridge. In due time he entered the College of New Jersey, where he
graduated, under the Presidency of Dr. Witherspoon, in the year 1771.
Notwithstanding little is now known of the early history of his Christian
experience, one circumstance occurred during his connection with College
that indicated at least a high degree of sensibility to religious things, and
is said to have been intimately connected, in his own view, with his hopeful
conversion. His mind had been exercised, not a little, on the manifestation
of the Divine perfections in the works of nature ; and being called upon,
on a certain occasion, to explain and defend the Copernican system, in the
presence of his class, he became so overwhelmed with a sense of the Divine
majesty, that he burst into tears, and was unable to proceed. This is said
to have been one of his favourite themes, not only of meditation, but of
public discourse, to the close of life.
He prosecuted his theological studies, partly under Dr. Witherspoon, at
Princeton, and partly in New England, successively under Doctors Bellamy,
Hopkins, and West. He was licensed to preach the Gospel in 1774. The
next year, having joined the Continental army as Chaplain, he connected
himself with a volunteer corps of eleven hundred men, under Colonel Arnold,
and, in the autumn of that year, marched with them to Canada. The suffer-
ings which they underwent, and the disastrous issue of the expedition, have
long since become a part of American History. At the close of the year
1776, he left the army, and, on the first Sabbath in February, 1777, com-
menced preaching as a candidate to the congregation in Newburyport, of
which he subsequently became the pastor. The discourse which induced
the people to give him a call, was preached before a detachment of the
American army, the Sabbath before they embarked from Newburyport for
Quebec. Colonel Burr was present and spoke of the sermon with high
commendation. The text was, — " Except thy presence go with us, carry
us not up hence." He accepted the call, and was ordained on the 6th of
August, 1777.
• Woods' Fun. Serm. — MS. from his family.
f Nathan AVebb was born at Braintree; was graduated at Harvard College in 1725; was
ordained pastor of the church in T'xbvidge, Februarj' 3, 1731 ; and died March 14, 1772, in the
sixty-seventh year of his age, and the forty-second of his ministry.
86 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the College
of New Jersey in 1806.
Dr. Spring continued his connection with the congi'cgation over which he
was first settled, till the close of life. He was emphatically a public man,
and was more or less intimately connected with many of the great philanthro-
pic and religious enterprises of the day. In originating and establishing
the Theological Seminary at Andover, he had a primary agency ; and he
never ceased to regard it with a paternal solicitude. On the first Sabbath
in January, 1819, he preached from Genesis XXVII, 2 : " Behold now, I
am old and know not the day of my death." The Sabbath immediately
succeeding, he preached for the last time ; and the Sabbath after that, he
administered the Communion, which was his last public service. The last
time he was in the pulpit, was the last Sabbath in January, which completed
just forty- two years from tlie time that he first entered it.
Until within three days of his death, he enjoyed the full use of his reason,
and had no doubt that his end was near. In his last interview with his
friend and neighbour, the Rev. Dr. Dana, five days before his death, as Dr.
D. sat by his bed, Dr. Spring said to him, — " I wish you to pray for me,
and for my family, and my people, that we may all feel aright respecting
my poor self. I have a hope in the infinite mercy of God. I have had
seasons of discouragement respecting my spiritual state ; and I have had
seasons in which I hope I have enjoyed the light of God's countenance.
As to the truth of the system I have preached, I have no question; but have
reason to lament that I have proached with so much coldness. Yet I think
I have had some seasons in which I have enjoyed communion with God in
my public exercises. I have nothing of my own, — not one spark of
righteousness, to recommend me. I come as a sinner to the Saviour." To
this Dr. Dana replied, — " God forbid. Sir, that we should any of us come
in any other way, but in reliance on a crucified Saviour." After a short
pause, he replied, — "lam not adventurous, but I think 1 can cheerfully
venture my immortal soul on the infinite mercy of God in Christ."
To another who inquired — " Do you enjoy the peace of God? " — he said,
" I should be miserable without it."
To Dr. Woods, on the Monday before he died, he said, — "You occupy
the most important station there can be in this life. I hope you will be
faithful. God be with you, bless you, succeed you, uphold you." After
considerable weariness he exclaimed, — " Oh let me be gone ; do let me be
gone. I long to be home."
Three weeks previous to his death, his son Samuel asked him how his life
appeared. He replied, " It appears as if it needed grace thrown over the
whole of it." " And on what parts of your life can you dwell with the most
pleasure?" He replied — "That I have been permitted to preach the
Gospel ; that I have been enabled to preach what I believe to be the system
of truth ; and that I have been the unexpected instrument of establishing
the Seminary at Andover."
Dr. Spring died on the 4th of March, 1819. His funeral sermon was
preached by the Rev. Dr. Woods, one of his most intimate friends, and was
published.
He was married in 1779, to Hannah, daughter of the Rev. Samuel Hop-
kins of Hadley. They had eleven children, one of whom is tlie Rev. Dr.
Spring of New York, another the Rev. Samuel Spring of East Hartford,
SAMUEL SPRING. 87
Coiin. Mrs. Spring died of hemorrhage at the lungs, just three months after
the death of her husband.
The following is a list of Dr. Spring's publications : — A Thanksgiving
Sermon, 1777. A Sermon on the importance of sinners coming immediately
to Christ, 1780. A Sermon on Family prayer, 1780. A Sermon at the
ordination of Benjamin Bell,* 1784. A Thanksgiving Discourse, 1793.
Two Sermons in the American Preacher, Vol. IV, 1793. A Thanksgiving
Discourse, 1798. A Sermon on the death of Washington, 1799. A Ser-
moa before the Massachusetts Missionary Society, 1802. A Discourse in
consequence of the late duel, 1804. A Sermon at the ordination of Charles
Coffiii, Jr., 1804. Two Discourses on Christ's self-existence, 1805. A
Sermon at the ordination of Samuel Walker,! 1805. An Address before
the Merrimac Humane Society, 1807. A Sermon on the death of Deacon
Thomas Thompson, 1808. Two Sermons delivered on Fast day, 1809. A
Letter addressed to the Rev. Solomon Aiken, 1^ on the subject of the preced-
ing sermons, 1809. A Sermon at the inauguration of the Rev. Dr. Grrifl&n
as Professor at the Andover Theological Seminai-y, 1809. A Sermon at the
interment of the Rev. Nathaniel Noyes,^ 1810. A Sermon on the united
agency of God and man in s^alvation, 1817. A Sermon before the American
Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, 1818. A Sermon before the
Howard Benevolent Society, 1818.
FROM THE REV. LEONARD WOODS, D. D.
Andover, January 13, 1852.
My dear Brother : According to your request, I send you the following imperfect
sketch of the character of the Rev. Samuel Spring, D. D., of Newburyport.
Dr. Spring was no ordinary man, — physically, intellectually, or morally. His.
personal appearance was marked with nobleness; he was tall and well-proportioned,
and his manners were refined and dignified. His countenance was indicative of
a lofty intelligence, and ardent, benevolent feeling. His intellect was clear, active,
and penetrating. Though he was possessed of extraordinary decision, and was
conscious of his own mental powers, he was as free as any man I ever knew from
the folly of self-conceit, and from a mistaken estimate of his own abilities, natural
or acquired. I say this advisedly; as my acquaintance with him was such as to give
me the best possible opportunity to discern the real features of his character and the
secret springs of his conduct. From June, 1798 to his death, (March, 1819,) my
intercourse with him was uninterrupted and perfectly free and unreserved. For
the first ten years, we were together in one way and anotlier almost every week.
We lived in the same neighbour liood, and belonged to the same Ministerial Asso-
* Benjamin Bell was born in Dutchess County, N. Y., January 21, 1752; was graduated
at Yale College in 1779; was ordained pastor of the church in Amesbury, Mass., October 13,
1784; resigned his charge in March, 1790; and died in 1836.
f Samuel Walker was born at Haverhill, Mass., January 27, 1779; was graduated at Dart-
mouth College in 1802 ; was ordained pastor of the Second church in Danvers, August 14, 1805 ;
and died July 7, 1826, aged forty-eight.
t Solomon Aiken was a native of Ilardwick, Mass. ; was graduated at Dartmouth College in
1794; was ordained pastor of the church in Dracut, Mass., June 4, 1788; was dismissed June
4, 1814; afterwards removed to the State of New Yorls, and died about 1832. He distinguished
himself as a political partisan. He published a Sermon at the ordination of Titus Theodore
Barton; [who was born at Granby, Mass., about 1766 ; was graduated at Dartmouth College in
1790; was ordained pastor of the church in Tewk'sbury, Mass., October 11, 1792; resigned his
charge May 19, 1803; and died October 31, 1827;] two Sermons delivered at Dracut, 1809; a
Letter addressed to Dr. Spring on the subject of his Sermons ; a Fast Sermon, 1811 ; andj an
Address to Federal clergymen on the subject of the War, 1813.
§ Nathaniel Noyes was born in Newbury, Mass., in the year 1735 ; was graduated at Prince-
ton ill 1759; commenced preacher of the Gospel in 1760;"spent his life chiefly in labouring
amoniT the destitute; and died in December, 1810.
38 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ciatiou. Besides this, we belonged to ;i large ^Ministerial Conference, which met
once in two months, and was designed for tke improvement of its members. 1"he
meetings were specially devoted to tlicological discussion. Dr. Spring, though
the oldest member, was always present, and alwaj^s entered into the business of
the Conference with wakeful and even youthful ardour, aiming to improve his own
mind, as well as th? minds (>f othei's.
But we were united in another concern, still more important. I was most inti-
mately associated with him in alltliat related to the establishment and the onward
course of the Theological Seminary in tliis place for more tlian twelve years. All
our intercourse was characterized with unbounded mutual frankness and confidence.
In reference to this great object, he exerted a leading and pre-eminently efficient
influence. But I never knew an instance of his showing a higher estimate of
himself than his brethren deemed to be just. Indeed, he was as modest and self-
diffident as was compatible with the full accomplishment of the mission which he
had received from above. While he was by no means ignorant of his capacity for
great enterprises, he was sensible of his deficiencies, and in matters of the highest
moment, he manifested a remarkable readiness to ask advice and to defer to the
judgment of others, even those who were inferior to him, both in age and in
wisdom.
Dr. Spring's habitual opinion of his own piety was far below that which others
entertained of it. The severe tests which he applied to his own religious experi-
ence and character, left him, as he repeatedly told me, but slender evidence that
his heart had been renewed by the Holy Spirit. But his low estimate of his own
spiritual state was not such as to interfere with his habitual cheerfulness and
religious enjoyment, or with his fixed purpose of heart to exert himself to the
utmost for the cause of Christ.
Dr. Spring was very watchful of the minds of others, — especially of promising
young men, and very skilful in guarding them against mistake and leading them
into the truth. If he saw in them a tendency to any hurtful error, he would not
undertake directly to argue the point with them and confute the error, lest it
should rouse them to such an effort in self-defence, as would be likely to confirm
them in error. His better way was to advise them to examine the subject more
thoroughly for themselves, and not to be in haste to decide, and then to name
to them some book or suggest some train of thought that might be of use to
the"0.
l*r. Spring was powerful in the pulpit. In the freedom, simplicity, and fervour
of his prayers, he excelled most ministers. As a preacher, he was remarkable
for ft clear and forcible illustration of Divine truth, and a faithful and unsparing
application of it to his hearers. His common practice was to explain and prove
some single proposition, and then in a serious improvement to impress it on the
conscience and heart. His written sermons were prepared with care and labour,
and were always weighty and instructive. But his extemporan'eous preaching
was far more striking and powerful. It was here that he showed his superior
strength to the best advantage. His intellectual and moral faculties were all
roused to vivid action. He was self-collected; he was entirely free from pertur-
bation and confusion; he was completely engrossed with his subject. He thought
more clearly and connectedly, and reasoned more forcibly, and felt and spoke
more fervently and energetically, than at other times. He had such a command
of language that he never hesitated. He had a good voice and a very distinct
utterance. He was very solemn as well as earnest. His looks expressed the
strength of his conceptions and the warmth of his emotions. His gestures were
unstudied, natural, and rather abundant, but not violent. At such times he was
felt by all to be powerful and eloquent. He made it his object to declare all the
eounsel of God faithfully, not seeking the praise of men, nor fearing their
reproach. Few ministers enjoy, as fully as he did, tlic confidence, the attach-
SAMUEL SPRING. §9
naent, and the veneration of his- people; and few exert so salutary and lasting an
influence.
The theological opinions of Dr. Spring were decidedly Calvinistic. If he
differed from the ablest writers among former Calvinists, it was more in phrase-
ology than in sentiment. In his metaphysical speculations, he harmonized in the
main witli Dr. Emmons, with whom he was united in the most intimate fiiend-
ship. But in setting forth those speculations, he showed sound judgment, and
took pains to guard his hearers against mist^e, and to make his meaning per-
fectly plain. For example, he gave great prominence to the position that we
ought to love God supremely for his own moral excellence, and to regard his
glory above our own individual happiness. But he avoided the rash expressions
which some others employed, viz : that we ought to be wiUing to be damned or to
be cast off for the glory of God; and he urged men with great earnestness to
seek their own salvation. Again, he insisted much upon men's natural ability to
do their duty. But he did not leave the subject, as many do, without explana-
tion. He took care to tell them that, by natural ability, he meant only those
natural powers and faculties of mind, which make them moral, accountable
beings; — still insisting that, as depiaved, sinful beings, they are morally unable to
obey the Divine law, or were under a total moral inability to do their duty; — at
the same time showing that an inabilit^^ of this kind, instead of excusing them
for disobedience, is itself altogether, culpable, — resulting, as it does, from the
inexcusable wickedness of their hearts. And he laboured as much to illustrate
their inability in this sense, as their ability in the other sense. And as to any
other peculiar opinions which he held, he always endeavoured to present them in
such a light, as to give them a right practical influence. The end which he aimed
at in his ministiy, and which he pursued with unusual success, was to lead his
people into just and consistent views of natural and revealed religion, to guard
them against error and enthusiasm, and to promote among them a true, scriptural
piety.
In ecclesiastical councils, and in all meetings for improvement or for the trans-
action of business. Dr. Spring was distinguished for practical wisdom and prompt
action. In private and social life, he displaj-ed uncommon cheerfulness, kindness,
and even sweetness, of disposition, and urbanity of manners, though mixed, in
all matters of conscience, with inflexible strictness and firmness. His daily
deportment made religion appear lovely, attractive, and venerable. In a word,
as a Christian and a minister of the Gospel, as a citizen and as a philanthropist,
Dr. Spring acted a highly important part, and impressed a mark which will not
be obliterated, upon the age in which he lived.
Very truly and fraternally yours,
L. WOODS.
Vol. II. 12
90 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
JOHN SMITH, D. D.=*
1774—1809.
John Smith, son of Joseph Smith, was born at Newbury, (IJyfiekl
parish,) Mass., December 21, \752. His mother was a descendant of the
Sawyer family, which came from England to this country in 1648, and
settled in llowley, where she was born. The son was fitted for College at
Dummer Academy, under the instruction of the well known " Master Moody."
He early discovered an uncommon taste for the study of the languages,
insomuch that his instructor predicted, while he was yet in his preparatory
course, that he would attain to eminence in that department.
He entered the Junior class in Dartmouth College, in 1771, at the time
of the first Commencement in that institution. He went to Hanover in
company with his preceptor and Governor \Yentworth, and so new and
unsettled was a portion of the country through which they passed, that they
were obliged to encamp one night in the woods. Their arrival at Hanover
excited great interest, and was celebrated by the roasting of an ax whole,
at the Governor's expense, on a small cleared spot, near where the College
now stands.
He was admitted to the Degree of Bachelor of Arts in 1773 ; and imme-
diately after, was appointed Preceptor of Moor's school at Hanover. This
appointment he accepted ; and, while discharging his duty as a teacher, was
also engaged in the study of Theology under the direction of President
Wheelock. In 1774, he was appointed Tutor in the College, and continued
in the ofiice until 1778. About this time he received an invitation to
settle in the ministry in West Hartford, Conn., and, in the course of the
same year, was elected Professor of Languages in the College where he
had been educated. His strong predilection for classical studies led him
to accept the latter appointment; and until 1787, he joined to the duties of
a Professor those of a Tutor, receiving for all his services one hundred
pounds, lawful money, annually. His Professorship he retained till the
close of his life. He was College Librarian for thirty years, — from 1779 to
1809. For two years he delivered Lectures on Systematic Theology, in
College, in connection with the public prayers on Saturday evening. He
was a Trustee of the College from 1788 to the time of his death. He also
officiated for many years as stated preacher in the village of Hanover. In
1803, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by Brown
University.
Dr. Smith's abundant and unceasing labours as a Professor, a Minister,
and an Author, proved too much for his constitution, and are supposed to
have hastened him out of life. He died in the exercise of a most serene
and humble faith, on the oOth of April, 1809, in the fifty-seventh year of
his age. His funeral sermon was preached by the Kev. Dr. Burroughs! of
Hanover.
* New Hampshire Repository, 1846.
] Eden Burroughs was a native of Stratford, Conn. ; was graduated at Yale College in
1757; was ordained pastor of the Second Church in Killingly, Conn., in 1700; was dismissed in
1763; was installed pastor of the church in Hanover, September 1, 1772; was dismissed in
1810; and died May 22, 181."'>, aged seventy-five. He was honoured with the degree of Doctor
of Divinity from Dartmouth College in 1773, and was one of its Overseers <'rom that year till his
death. He was the father of the notorious Stephen Burroughs.
JOHN SMITH. ^l
Dr. Smith was twice married. His first wife was Mary, luiu^liter of ilio
Rev. Ebenezer Cleaveland, of Gloucester, Mass. After liviug with him
about four years, she died, leaving two daughters, one of whom was married
to Dr. Cyrus Perkins of New York, formerly Professor in the medical
department of Dartmouth College, and the other to John Bryant of Boston.
His second wife was Susan, daughter of Colonel David Mason of Boston.
By this marriage he had six children, one of whom, a young lady of fino
poetical taste, — died in 1812, at the age of twenty-three. Mrs. Smith
survived her husband many years, and died in 1845, at the age of eighty-
two. She was a lady of uncommon vigour of mind and dppth of piety, and
in her eightieth year wrote a memoir of her husband.
Dr. Smith was enthusia'«tioally devoted to the study of the languages
through life. He prepared a Hebrew Grammar in his Junior year in College,
which is dated May 1-4, 1772 ; and a revised preparation is dated February
11, 1774. About this time he also prepared a Chaldee Grammar. The
original manuscript of these Grammars, as also the greater part of his
Lectures on Theology, is deposited in the Library of the Northern Academy
of Arts and Sciences at Dartmouth College. As early as 1779, he prepared
a Latin Grammar, which was first published in 1802, and has gone through
three editions. In 1808, he published a Hebrew Grammar ; in 1804, an
edition of Cicero de Oratore, with notes, and a brief memoir of Cicero, in
English ; and in 1809, a Greek Grammar, which was issued about the time of
his decease. He published also a Sermon at the dedication of the meeting
house at Hanover, 1796, and a Sermon at the ordination of T. Eastman.*
1801.
FROM THE REV. ROSWELL SHURTLEFF, D. D.,
PEOFESSOa IN DARTMOUTH COLLEGE.
Hanover, February 4, 1850.
Dear Sir: Dr. Smith, concerning whom you inquire, was rather above the
middling stature, straight, and well proportioned. His head was well formed,
though blanched and bald, somewhat in advance of his years. His face, too, as
to its lineaments, was very regular and comely. His eyes were of a light blue
colour, and tolerably clear. Excuse my particularity — I seem to see him before
me.
As a linguist, he was minutely accurate, and faithful to his pupils, although I
used to doubt whether he was familiar with the classic writers mucli beyond the
field of his daily instructions. But you know that in his day, Philology, like
many other sciences, was comparatively in its cradle, especially in this country.
His reputation in his profession depended chiefly on the recitations; and there he
was perfect to a proverb. The student never thought of appealing from his
decision.
In his disposition he M'as very kind and obliging, and remarkablj'" tender of (lie
feelings of his pupils — a civility which was alwaj-s duly returned.
In religious sentiment, he was unexceptionably orthodox, — though fearful of
Ilopkinsianism, which made some noise in the country at that period. His voicD
was full and clear and his articulation very distinct. His sermons were writteu
out with great accuracy, but were perhaps deficient in pungency of application
On the whole, he could hardly be considered a popular preacher.
•TiLTOx Eastman was born at Amherst, Mass., August 1.5, 177.3; w.is graduated at Dart-
mouth College in 1796; was ordained pastor of the church in Randolph, Vt.. June 3, 1801 ; waa
dismissed May 25, 18.30; and died at Randolph, much lamented, July 8, 1842, aged sixty-
nine.
92 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Professor Smith was a man of uncommon industry. This must be apparent
from what he accomphshed. Besides his two recitations daily, he tupplicd the
College and village with preaching for about twenty years, and exchanged pulpits
but very seldom; and, in the mean time, was almost constantly engaged in some
literary enterprise. I well remember a conversation with the late President
Brown, then a Tutor in College, soon after the Professor died, — in which we agreed
in the opinion, that we had known no man of the same natural endowments, who
had been more useful, or who had occupied his talent to better advantage.
You ask for illustrative anecdotes. Such you know, are apt to follow teachers in
College. Students often seek amusement at the expense of instructors, whom they
truly respect. Profp^sor Smith was perhaps rather a prominent mark; for, though
universally acknowledged to poaaess one of the kindest of hearts, he was constitu-
tionally both nervous and timid. He could not well give a joke, and still less
could he retort one. When a, little disconcerted, he at once lost his balance, and
could only receive with meekness whatever should come next. This gave occasion
to some anecdotes, which may have gone abroad with more or less correctness.
In illustration of this, I will venture to relate a case which occurred while I
was a Tutor. Professor Smith was hearing a recitation in A\^atts' Logic, I think,
where, on the doctrine of identity, it was held that a piece of mechanism remained
the same, though the several j^arts were supplied anew, until not a particle of the
original was left. A member of the class held up a penknife, and said, " Suppose
I lose half this handle, and get it supplied, is it the same knife .^" "Yes."
"After a while, I lose the other half of the handle, and get that supplied.^"
"The same stiU," said the teacher. "Then," said Fiske, (for that was the
student's name,) " at length I lose the blade, and get a new one inserted." " As
a knife it is still the same," — said the Professor. " Well," said I'iske again, " this
man at my elbow found the several parts, and having put them together, he has
a knife, and what knife is that r" Thus the dialogue closed — in a manner equally
embarrassing to the Professor and amusing to the class.
I have thus endeavoured to comply with your request, so far as my frail health,
imperfect vision, and growing dotage, Avill allow.
AVith smcere desires for your prosperity and success in the cause of truth,
I remain, very truly yours,
KOSWELL SHURTLEFF.
MATTHIAS BURNET, D. D.^
1774—1806.
Matthias Burnet was bom at Bottle Hill, N. J., January 24, 1749.
He was graduated at the College of New Jersey in 1769. Having prose-
cuted his theological studies, probably under Dr. Witherspoon, who had
then lately become President of the College, and having received license to
preach, he was called in the autumn of 1774, to be the pastor of the Pres-
byterian church in Jamaica, Long Island. He accepted the call, and was
ordained and installed by the Presbytery of New York in April, 1775.
Mr. Burnet exercised his ministry at Jamaica, during the whole of the
Revolutionary war. Unlike nearly all the Presbyterian clergy of the country,
he never declared in favour of our independence ; and, though he professed
neutrality, and observed a uniform silence in respect to the great questions
• Prime's Hist, of Long Island. — Hall's Hist, of Norwalk.
MATTHIAS BURNET. 93
between the Colonies and the mother country, it was generally understood
that his sympathies were chiefly with the latter. Hence, no doubt, it was,
that while Jamaica was occupied by the British army, he was permitted to
exercise all his ministerial functions without molestation, and by his influence
with the loyalists the Presbyterian church was preserved from destruction
during the war. The following extracts from a work by Henry Onderdonk,
Jr., " designed to illustrate the Revolutionary incidents of Queens County,"
leave us in no doubt in regard to Mr. Burnet's position at this period : —
" Sooa after the British were established in Jamaica, a parcel of loyalists perched
themselves in the belfry of the Presbyterian church, and commenced sawing off the
steeple. AVord was brought to the jjastor, the Kev. Mr. Burnet. Wliitehuad Hicks,
Mayor of New York, happened to be at his house, and, as Burnet was a loyalist, soon
imt a stop to the outrage. * * * » xhe Highlanders attended his church, and
sat by themselves in the galleries. Some had their wives- with them, and several
children were baptized. Once, when the sexton had neglected to provide water, and
was about to go for it, the thoughtful mother called him back, and drew a bottle of it
from her pocket. General Oliver Delancey, who had been appointed by Howe to
induce the loyalists to join the King's troops, had his quarters at Jamaica for some
time, at the parsonage house of the Rev. Mr. Burnet."
But the mass of Mr. Burnet's people, unfortunately for the permanency
of his situation, did not sympathize with his loyal tendencies, or even his
professed neutrality. They were generally decided and zealous Whigs ; and
as soon as the war was over, they made no equivocal demonstration of their
dissatisfaction with his course. Some of them indeed continued to be his
warm friends, and urged, in favour of retaining him as their minister, that
he had been instrumental in saving the church edifice ; but the opposition
to him was so extensive and powerful, that he found it necessary to resign
his charge. At the close of his farewell service, he gave out the one hun-
dred and twentieth Psalm, from which may be inferred the state of feeling
oji both sides : —
" Hard lot of mine, my days are cast
" Among the sons of strife,
" Whose never ceasing quarrels waste
" My golden hours of life.
'•' 0! might I fi}' to change my place,
" How would I choose to dwell
" In some wide, lonesome wilderness,
" And leave these gates of hell.
'•' Peace is the blessing that I seek,
' How lovely are its charms !
" I am for peace; but when I speak
" They all declare for arms."
Mr. Burnet was liberated from his pastoral charge by the Presbytery
of New York, in May, 1785. In October following, he received a call from
the Congregational church in Norwalk, Conn.; and having accepted it, was
installed on the 2d day of November. In the same year, he was honoured
with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Yale College.
Whatever may have been the state of feeling beween him and his people
at Jamaica when they separated, no other than the most amicable relations
existed between them after his settlement at Norwalk. He was accustomed
to pay them an annual visit ; and in 1790 he preached to a large assembly
in the Presbyterian church a sermon that was afterwards published in the
American Preacher, entitled " Moral Reflections upon the season of Har-
vest." In its conclusion, he addressed particularly the minister who had
94 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
succeeded him, and thus alluded to his connection with the congregation
during the war : —
" 111 tlie days of my youth, I was, by the laying on of hands, and particuhir desig-
nation of the Presbytery, placed in this part of the great field of Christ's Churcii.
where numbers of faithful labourers had been before, with a solemn charge to labour in
it, and to watch over it. For several years I devoted myself to this my charge; and
though with many imperfections I acknowledge I did it, yet never with a dishonest
heart. In troublous and perilous times, 1 kept it, laboured in it, and watched over it,
readily contributing, both by word and deed, whatever was in my power for its per-
fection, cultivation, and growth in the fruits of truth and righteousness."
Dr. Burnet continued at Norwalk until his death, which took place on the
30th of June, 1806. He died in the fifty-eighth year of his age and the twenty-
first of his ministry at Norwalk. Dr. Prime, in his History of Long Island,
states that he preached for him the day previous to his death, and parted
from him on Monday morning, about two hours before his sudden departure.
Dr. Burnet preached the Connecticut Election Sermon in 1803, which was
published. He also published two Sermons, one in the second, the other in
the third, volume of the American Preacher, 1791.
His first wife was an Episcopalian ; and to this circumstance some attri-
buted his neutrality, if nothing more, during the Revolution. This lady
(Mrs. Ann Burnet) died at Norwalk, July 7, 1789, — the mother of two
children, a son and a daughter. On the 30th of June, 1793, Dr. Burnet
took for his second wife, Fanny, daughter of the Bev. Azel Boe of Wood-
bridge, N. J. By this marriage he had one child — a son.
FROM THE REV. MOSES STUART,
PROFESSOR IN TUE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY AT ANDOVER.
Andover, January 16, 1851.
My dear Sir: My engagements have hitherto rendered it impossible for me to
fulfil my promise to you in respect to the reminiscences which I may cherish
respecting Dr. Burnet of Norwalk. All I can now do, is to make some brief
notation of them.
In my childhood, the town of Norwalk comprised three large parishes —
namely, Norwalk, Wilton, and Canaan. At a subsequent period, these became
three separate incorporated towns. Previous to this, however, an Academy wa.s
set up in Norwalk Parish, of which Dr. Burnet was Pastor. Probably it was
mainly by his influence that this was done. I, who was born in Wilton, went, at
the age of fourteen, to that Academy, in order to fit for College. Dr. Burnet was
the President of the Board of Trustees, and one of the examiners. Previous to
my leaving home, I had frequently heard him preach at Wilton, and I remember
very distinctly that it was accounted a choice Sabbath by the people, which pre-
sented him in the pulpit at Wilton in the way of exchange. Whenever it wa.«
known beforehand, the church was always sure to be filled.
I have a distinct impression still on my mind of the solemn earnestness of his
nianner. lie had a slight impediment in his speech, which, when it occasioned
some hesitation in utterance, was always sure to be followed by more than ordi-
nary intonation and animation. As often as the embarrassment occurred, so
often were the whole audience put on the qui vivc as to what was .coming.
Every body spoke and tliought of him, as a man pre-eminent in piety and in
{lastoral qualifications. Grave questions of casuistry or discipline were often
referred to him, as all felt bound to reverence his judgment.
When at the Academy, I boarded for the first quarter in a house within a few-
rods of his, and his two sons were my school-mates, play-mates and most inti-
mate friends. After one year, the preceptor, Asa Chapman, Esq., afterwards one
of the Judges of the Supreme Court, in Connecticut, left the Academj', and Dr
MATTHIAS BUR>'ET 95
Burnet took his place until another could be procured His discipline in Latin and
Greek was excellent. He made thorough work of the Grammars and of the Exercises
in both languages. AVe used to translate Greek into Latin on one day, and into
English the next. We turned English into Latin and vice versa. All our
parsing and appeals to Greek Grammar were carried on in the Latin. 1 have
often felt that if I could have enjoyed his instructions at that period for some two
years, I should have been very differently fitted for classical College studies from
what I in fact was. Subsequently, — that is, after a few months, the school broke
up for a time; for Dr. Burnet found the double task of school and parish too
severe for him; and when he quit, another competent instructor had not been
engaged.
In the mean time, I had lived in the family of Dr. Eurnet some four or five
months. There, of course, I had an opportunity of seeing him in his daily walk
and private demeanour. The impression remaining on my mind, is that of a
sedate, kind, courteous, fervidly pious man, whose private life was in accordance
with his public teaching. Familiarity did not diminish, but augment, my respect
and reverence. His imperturbable mildness of spirit, his gravity mingled with
comity, and his fervent morning and evening devotions, all contributed to
heighten my former reverence for him and affection toward him. His only fault
in family management was, that his mildness inclined him to forbear paternal
admonition and correction too much. His sons were young lads of talent, and
were too much caressed by the people of the parish to carry themselves very
meekly. But their errors were more the result of gay and frolicsome youth than
of any special vitiosity of temperament. Alas ! they were early called from the
stage of action; but whether before or after the death of the father, I have no
certain recollection, inasmuch as I was at Yale College during that period.
Our Monday mornings at the Academy, while Dr. Burnet was in it, were
always sure to bring a Greek Testament recitation with them; after which, the
Doctor used to make remarks exegetical, practical, and hortative. He was never
tedious or prosy. His prayers and preaching were always of the briefer cast.
In general, he employed only short notes in the pulpit. The people at large used
to like his extemporaneous performances best; and they had some good reason,
for in them tiie fervency of his spirit poured forth without stint; for he usually
spoke with a full heart. Many a time have I seen his countenance visibly agitated
by his emotions, which now^ and then nearly overpowered him. The staid gravity
of his manner throughout seemed to forbid strong emotions; but he happily
blended both. Xever was a witticism, or a light story, or a pun, or a sentence of
tart satire, heard to proceed from him while preacliing. He would have counted
it a degradation of his holy office, and a profanation of God's house, to indulge
himself in any thing of this nature. He had the power, but he was averse to
employing it.
I was too young, when acquainted with him, to know much about his pastoral
habits, and I was also a stranger in the parish, and felt that this was no business
of mine. But I well recollect the strong attachment of his people to him; and
this, I think, seldom happens, where a pastor is destitute of the social qualities
which lead one to meet and mingle with others.
For the same reason, I can give no critique on his preaching in respect to argu-
ment and weight. That he caught the popular eye and ear is certain. His aspect
and form were comely, and in themselves of a persuasive cast. When he rose
in the pulpit, with a face beaming with light and love, all ears and eyes were open,
and expectation lighted up every countenance.
I well remember that clumps of boys in the streets, during the play-hours of
the day, when they had got into some dispute and begun to talk loud, and some
of them to swear, would, at his approach, become hushed. " TJiere comes Dr.
Burnet," some one would say, and a truce instantly began. By the time he had
96 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
slowly passed them, they began to cool, and after a few banters, would separate
and go peaceably away, without any further disturbance. Rare, indeed, was it
to hear even the most uncivil of them say, — " I don't care for him." All knew
that he looked with a father's eye upon them. When he had heard, in his
approach, the noise of their dispute, he would be sure to pass close by them,
and smiling kindly upon them, he would say, " My dear boys, I heard some
voices so loud, that I feared some harm might come of it. Come now, make up
all your dissensions, for it would be a bad thing to have a quarrel in the street,
with tlie public looking on. Let all go until to-morrow; then you maj'' come
together in cool blood, and you will easily settle all." By this the boys were not
overawed merely; they were persuaded or convinced that it was best to follow his
advice. The morrow usually brought about reconciliation, as we might expect.
In the height of his usefulness and influence, I left the place to go to New Haven
College, and never more returned, except to pass through a part of his parish on
my way home. I know nothing more of his subsequent history, excepting the
event of his death. Of the manner of that, I know nothing, not having conversed
with any person who was acquainted with the circumstances of it. I have
indeed heard that his end was peace; and full surely this is what I should have
expected.
While writing these lines, his' image almost appears before me. I seem to see
his kind paternal smile, his face beaming with comity and benevolence; I hear the
inelodious, persuasive accents of his voice; I see his staid gait and his pensive
demeanour, and find myself almost reacting the scenes of my fifteenth year.
Eut had I then known him in all his worth as a Christian, and known how to
estimate him, I should doubtless have a much deeper impression still. I venera-
ted him, indeed, as a Christian; but how little did I then know what the full
import of that name was. My recollections of him now, however, are such that
if invocation of saints were a doctrine admissible, I should lift up my prayer to
him to intercede for me; for the prayers of the righteous avail much. I could do
it as heartily as the Irish Catholic looks up to St. Patrick, or the Parisian nun to
St. Genevieve. But no; he would chide me for m)^ mistake, and say to me, "You
have an elder Brother that will both hear and answer prayer. T am nothing — can
do nothing. Look to Him, — your all in all, your very present help in every time
of need."
I stand rebuked for even the imagination of an intercessory saint in glory. But
my feelings ! All the gushing tide of youthful aifection and reverence comes upon
me, and before I am aware, I am ready to cry out, " Sancte pater! Ora pro
nobis!"
If Dr. Burnet made such an impression on me, a crude countrj^ boy, just enter-
ing on his teens, and without God and without hope in the world, I draw the
conclusion now, at the age of three-score and ten, that he must have been a man
of more than ordinary qualities of mind and demeanour. Such I must believe
him to have been. I trust that in this, the testimony of others who knew him
better and longer, will agree.
I have thus given you all I know or can call to mind concerning that eminent
servant of God. My recollections are refreshing, even at this distance of time; and
if you have as much pleasure in reading this record of them, as I have had in
making it out, it will be clear that I have not laboured in vain.
Truly yours,
M. STUART
DAVID TAPPAX. 97
DAVID TAPPAN, D. D *
1774—1803.
David Tappan was a son of the Rev. Benjamin Tappan, who was
graduated at Harvard College in 1742, was ordained pastor of the church
at Manchester, Mass., December 11, 1745, and died there May 6, 1790,
aged sixty-nine. The son, at a very early age, gave indications of a mind
eager for the acquisition of knowledge and susceptible of the highest culti-
vation. His father encouraged his literai-y aspirations, and for several
years, had the sole direction of his studies ; but, during the latter part of
his preparation for College, he was placed under the instruction of Mr.
Samuel Moody, Preceptor of Dummer Academy.
At the age of fourteen, he was admitted a member of Harvard University,
where, during his whole course, he distinguished himself for propriety of
conduct, and diligence and success in study. Not only were his morals
irreproachable, but he was by no means inattentive to his religious duties.
During the third year of his collegiate course, he was visited with a severe
illness, which gave to his mind a more decidedly spiritual direction, and
was at least an important instrumentality in the formation of his uncom-
monly elevated Christian character. He was admitted to the degree of
Bachelor of Arts in 1771.
After leaving College, he devoted somewhat more than two years to the
Rtudy of Theology ; though, during part of the time, he was also employed
in teaching a school. His first efforts in the pulpit evinced an uncom-
monly mature mind, and an extent of theological attainment which would
have done no discredit to venerable age. He was regarded as possessing
all the characteristics of not only an eminently popular, but eminently
useful, preacher ; and those who knew him then, were not disappointed by
the brilliancy of his subsequent career. Accordingly, his labours as a can-
didate were much in demand, and he soon received an invitation to settle as
pastor of a church in Newbury, Mass. This invitation he accepted, and
was ordained in April, 1774, when he was only twenty-one years of age.
The sermons which he preached on the Sabbath immediately succeeding
his ordination were published. One of his friends informed me that, when
he was applied to for a copy of the sermons for the press, he felt somewhat
embarrassed by the request, and finally determined to yield to it, as the
result of some such process of reflection as the following : — "A single ser-
mon is, in all ordinary cases, too unimportant to affect my reputation any
way ; but it may not be too unimportant to do good on a small scale. A
sermon of mine, preached to my own people, on some occasion that deeply
interests their feelings, and printed by their request, will be eagerly read
by them, when another sermon, on a similar occasion, and preached by a
stranger a hundred miles distant, though it were far better than mine,
would probably not be read at all. The fact then that there are in the world
many better sermons than I can write, is no argument against mine being
printed, inasmuch as, within a small circle at least, mine will be read, when
the better ones will not be. Let me then make myself useful by printing,
* Life prefixed to his Posthumous Sermons.
Vol. II. 13
98 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
though it be on a humble scale ; and, if any of my sermons aro likely, in
the opinion of prudent, judicious persons, to do good by being printed, I
will not scruple from considerations of delicacy to yield to their judgment."
Acting upon this principle through his whole ministry, he printed more
occasional sermons than almost any other clergyman of his day.
He continued the pastor of the church at Newbury, quietly but labo-
riously and most acceptably performing the various duties of his office, for
about eighteen years. In June, 1792, the Corporation and Overseers of
Harvard University invited him to the office of Professor of Divinity in
that institution. The question of duty in the case proved an exceedingly
embarrassing one to him ; but it was finally referred to an ecclesiastical
council, and by them decided in favour of his removal. His Farewell ser-
mon, which was published, is alike creditable to his head and his heart; —
is full of pertinent and weighty counsels, expressed with beautiful simpli-
city and in a spirit of melting tenderness. He was inaugurated as Hollis
Professor of Divinity, December 26, 1792.
In 1794, his Alma Mater conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of
Divinity.
In the highly responsible office to which he was now introduced, he con-
tinued till the close of life. His labours were abundant, and his success
corresponded to his labours; for he gained and retained an influence, not
only over the undergraduates in College, but over other minds with which
he was brought in contact, that could have been the result of nothing short
of great powers combined with exalted goodness. While he discharged
with most scrupulous fidelity his various duties as Professor, he often
preached to neighbouring congregations ; and such was his popularity that
he was called more frequently than almost any other minister of the day, to
officiate on special and extraordinary occasions.
■ Dr. Tappan's connection with the University as Professor continued
somewhat more than ten years ; and, during the whole period, he was con-
stantly gaining in reputation and influence. His large heart would not permit
him to decline any service to which he felt himself competent ; and some-
times his desire to oblige his brethren, or to accommodate vacant churches,
carried him farther than his bodily strength would warrant. On the 7th of
August, 1803, he preached in Brattle street church, Boston, which had been
rendered vacant by the death of Dr. Thacher, and administered the Com-
munion ; and, as he was previously somewhat debilitated, the eff"ort proved
too much for him. At the close of the service he returned home, imme-
diately took to his chamber, and died just twenty days afterwards. The
following account of the state of his mind in the prospect of his departure,
is from a sermon preached on the occasion of his death by the Rev. Dr.
Holmes, whose testimony is that of an eye and ear witness, as well as an
intimate friend : —
"During his illness, he bore plenary testimony to those great truths of religion,
which had been the chosen subjects of his ministry , and the sacred rule of his life. In
an earl}- stage of his sickness, his ' hope,' — to use his own language, was ' intermingled
with overwhelming confusion, sorrow, and shame.' In its later stages, his disease was
less spasmodic than it had i)reviously been, and his mind was more tranquil. Among
other interesting observations, he said, — ' The doctrines of grace which contemplate
men as sinners, and as requiring an infinite atonement, are the doctrines which I must
live and die by.' On the morning of the day previous to his death, he had intimation
of his danger. Having, in a conversation that ensued, expressed his Christian hope, he
was asked whether he did not build that hope on ' the corner stone laid in Zion, elect
DAVID TAPPAN. 99
and precious.' ' If I do not trust there,' he replied. ' I know not in what I do trust.
I have nothing else to trust in. Lord, to whom shall I go? Thou hast the words of
eternal life.' He was able to speak but little during the day. After a prayer with
him in the evening, he was more collected, and more capable of conversing "than he
had been since the morning.
'• In this conversation, (alas, the last!) he said, — ' I believe the necessity of a con-
formity of heart to the truths of the Gospel.' On being asked concerning his hope, he
replied, 'My hope is that I possess the Christian temper;' then pausing a little^ he
added, — 'All my hopes are founded on the infinite mercy of God, and the perfect
character and atonement of Christ.' The next morning he knew not his earthly-
friends, but he seemed still to know in whom he believed. At the close of a prayer by
his bed-side, his eyes were steadfastly directed towards Heaven; his lips gently moved —
in that act his immortal spirit departed."
The following is a list of Dr. Tappan's publications : — Two Discourses
delivered on the Sabbath after his ordination at Newbury, 1774. A Ser-
mon on the character of Amaziah, 1782. A Fast Sermon, 1783. A
Thanksgiving Discourse on the Peace, 1783. A Sermon on the death of
the Rev. Moses Parsons, 1783. Two friendly Letters to Philalethes, 1785.
A Sermon at the ordination of Timothy Dickinson, 1789. An Address to the
students of Andover Academy, 1791. Election Sermon, 1792. A Sermon
before an Association at Portsmouth, 1792. A Farewell Sermon at New-
bury, 1793. A Fast Sermon at Cambridge and Charlestown, 1793. A
Sermon at the ordination of John Thornton Kirkland, 1794. A Sermon on
eight persons drowned at Newbury, 1794. A Discourse to the class which
was graduated in 1794. A Discourse to the class which entered in 1T94.
An Address to Andover students, 1794. A Thanksgiving Sermon at
Charlestown, 1795. A Discourse on the death of John Russell, a student,
1795. A Discourse to the class which entered in 1796. A Sermon before
the Convention of ministers, 1797. A Fast Sermon at Boston and Charles-
town, 1798. Two Sermons at Plymouth after the ordination of the Rev.
James Kendall, 1800. A Discourse on the death of Washington, 1800.
A Sermon at the ordination of N. H. Fletcher,* 1800. A Sermon on the
death of Lieut. Grovernor Phillips, 1802. A Sermon at the installation of
the Rev. Hezekiah Packard, 1802. A Discourse on the death of Enos
Hitchcock, D. D.,t 1803. A Sermon on the death of Mrs. Mary Dana,
1808.
POSTHUMOUS.
Lectures on Jewish Antiquities, 1807. Sermons on important subjects,
1807.
Dr. Tappan was married in the year 1780, to Hannah , daughter of Dr. Enoch
Sawyer of Newbury. They had ten children, one half of whom died in
infancy. Three sons were graduated at Harvard College : — Enoch Sawyer,
in 1801, who was for several years a practising physician, and died in
Augusta, Me., in 1847, aged sixty-four ; David, in 1804, who died in 1843 ;
and Benjamin, in 1805, who was settled in the ministry in Augusta, Me.,
in 1811, and retained his pastoral charge till 1850, when he resigned it to
accept the office of Secretary to the Maine Missionary Society.
•Nathaniel Hill Fletcher was born at Boxboro', Mass., was graduated at Harvard
College in 1793; was ordained pastor of the church in Kennebunk, Me., Septembers, 1800;
was dismissed October 24, 1827; and died at Boxboro", September 4, 1834. He published a
Bisconrse on the question — How far unanimity in religious opinion is necessary in order to
Christian Communion, 1827.
f Enos Hitchcock was a native of Springfield, Mass.; was graduated at Harvard College in
1767 ; was ordained pastor of the Second church in Beverly, as colleague of the Rev. Mr. Chip-
man ; was a chaplain in the American army at the commencement of the Revolution ; resigned
]^QQ TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
FROM THE REV. DANIEL DANA, D. D.
Newburyport, April 2, 1849.
Reverend and dear Sir: You have requested of nie some reminiscences of Dr
Tappan of Cambridge. You could not ca.sily have inipo.sed on me a more agree-
able task. Dr Tappan was my father's friend; and it was likewise the honour
and privilege of my early days to enjoy some share in his friendship. Yet, in my
brief sketches, I shall endeavour to divest myself of every improper partiality.
Though it is now nearly forty-six years since the grave closed over this remark-
able man, his memory is fresh and vivid with me still. With those who knew
him, it could scarcely be otherwise. His excellencies indeed were " not obvious,
not obtrusive, but retired." Stdl, on those to whom they were disclosed, they
could not fail to leave a lovely and lasting impression.
His intellectual powers were doubtless of a superior order. Nor would it be
easy to furnish a definition of genius, whicli should exclude him from its posses-
sion. If a creative and brilliant imagination; if acute perceptions, and a discrim-
inating judgment; if familiarity Avith great conceptions; if a facility in invest!
gating recondite truths, and in imparting novelty and force to truths more
common; if any or all of these are constituents or indications of genius, his
claims to this attribute were undeniable. Yet few have been more distant from
advancing pretensions of this kind. Indeed, he exemplified, iu an uncommon
degree, the fine remark of a German writer that genius is evermore a secret to
itself.
llis prime and prominent excellence was that of a preacher. The pulpit was
his throne. His mode of sermonizing might seem to constitute almost a new era
in preaching. Yet as few attempted its imitation, and still fewer succeeded, it
might almost be said to live and die with him. Hence it would be difficult to give
a character of his sermons, which would not appear defective to those who have
heard them, and extravagant to those who have not. They combined excellencies
which, though found separately in many preachers, yet, having been united by few
or none, have been thought almost incompatible with each other. While they
were replete with evangelical truth, they exhibited seriousness of spirit, depth
of thought, richness of imagery, coolness in argumentative discussion, impassioned
tenderness of address, purity and splendour of diction; and all in no common
degree. In delivery, these sermons seemed frequently to have a kind of electrical
effect on an audience; striking with instantaneous force, and enchaining the atten-
tion of every class of hearers. While the philosopher and the man of taste were
gratified, the thoughtless were constrained to think, and the insensible to feel; the
hypocrite was surprised and confounded, the inquiring mind was directed, and the
devout Christian most of all consoled and delighted.
Dr. Tappan's extensive poi)ularity as a preacher may seem to some an impeach-
ment of his fidelity to truth and to the souls of men. At least such a combination,
his pastoral charge in 1780; was installed pastor of a church in Providence, K. I., October 1,
178.3; and died February 27, 180.'5, aged fifty -eight. He received the degree of Doctor of
Divinity from Brown University in 1788. He published a Discourse on Education, 1785; an
Address on the Causes of national prosperity, before the Cincinnati of Rhode Island, 1786;
Memoirs of the Bloomsgrove family, 2 vols. ISmo., 1700; Farmer's Friend, ]2mo., 179.S; Ora-
tion on the 4th of July, 170?,; a Sermon at the ordination of Jonathan Gould; [who was
graduated at Brown Univcr.-iity in 17Sti; wan ordained pastor of the church in Standish, Me.,
September 18, 1793; and died in 17'J4:] Answer to the question, Why do you observe the rite,
commonly called the Lord's Suppper, 1705; a Dedication Sermon at Providence and at West
Brookfield, Mass., 1795-, a New Year's Sermon, 1797; a Sermon at the ordination of Elisha
Fiske, 1799 ; a Discourse on the character of Washington, 1800 ; a Sermon on the death of Mrs.
Bowen, 1800. The Rev. John Chipman with whom .Mr. Hitchcock became associated in the
ministry at Beverly, was a native of Barnstable; was graduated at Harvard College in 1711;
was ordained pastor of the Second church in Beverly, December 28, 1715 ; and died March 23,
1775, aged eighty-four.
DAVID TAPPAN. 101
if real, may be thought to furnish a problem requiring solution. As this is a
subject deeply and practically interesting, I will hazard a few remarks upon it.
In the first place, his doctrines were delivered in their native scriptural simpli-
city. They were incumbered with no such metaphysical distinctions and abstru-
sities as opened the door to the objector. His hearers generally felt that if the
Bible was true, the preacher was likewise true; and that they themselves were
placed in that precise dilemma, in which they must either submit to the instruc-
tions given, or reject the Bible itself.
And further, the most humbling descriptions of human depravity were shown
to be in perfect accordance with the dictates of history, of observation, and of
experience. A mirror was held up to the gaze of all present, in which their moral
deformity could not fail to be seen. TJie awakened hearer was led to feel that
there was a hand, guided by omniscience, searching his heart, exposing its latent
deceits and corruptions, and bringing to light enormities, either wholly unsus-
pected, or long and studiously concealed.
All this was done, not in the spirit of harshness or arrogance, — not as if the
speaker left himself out of his own description, but with deep feeling, with a
subduing tenderness and humility, and an occasional self-application, which gave
double meaning and force to every thing.
Nor was he less felicitous in exhibiting the grand remedy for human guilt and
wretchedness. The distinguishing doctrines of the Gospel were his favourite
theme; and in his discourses, they stood forth in their genuine majesty, and glory,
and beauty. They were indeed doctrines of grace; doctrines which, while they
maintained the dignity of the Divine character and law, looked with the kindest
aspect on the lost race; and which, while fitted to humble the proud spirit, and
melt the hard heart, were not less fitted to impart hope to the desponding, conso-
lation to the penitent, and life immortal to the dying.
Doubtless one of the charms of Dr. Tappan's preaching was its variety. The
cross was his darling theme. But so luminous, and large, and elevated were his
views of the scheme of human redemption, that he found himself .supplied from
this source with inexhaustible materials for thought and for discourse. And in
illustrating the scheme, he ranged through the whole field of Scripture histor}-,
biography, and prophecy. Under his hand, the world of nature, and the ever
varying aspects of Providence, were made tributary to the same great design.
Hence, while his discourses on the Sabbath, were diversified, in no common degree,
his Fast and Tlianksgiving .sermons were very linninous and profitable, pouring
rich instruction into the thoughtful mind, and supplying to the pious heart mate-
rials for its noblest exercise.
Dr. Tappan had a manner in the pulpit altogether his own. Yet it is not easily
described. It was perfectly simple, unstudied, and unadorned; but full of mean-
ing and of force. He employed little gesture. But his eye was eloquent; his
whole countenance was eloquent. It spoke a mind entirely absorbed in his subject,
and a heart feeling the same emotions which it would communicate to others. It
spoke to the hearers of a preacher who not only brought a message from God,
but who had himself been in communion with Him. Hence, a majesty blended
with the kindest benignity, which at once overawed and attracted. Hence the
hearer perceived in the message, the condescending, melting mercy of Heaven; and
in the messenger, a tender, cordial friend to his soul.
But the eloquence of the pulpit must yield to that of the life. He is the power-
ful preacher, whose consistent and holy deportment shows that he beheves and
feels what he preaches. And here, by general confession, Dr. Tappan stood on
high vantage ground. He was an eminent example of piety, and of all the
Christian virtues. The religion which he inculcated from the desk, so beautiful,
60 heavenly, breathed in his spirit, and shone out in his life. While proffering
the dainties of the Gospel to others, there was that in his manner, which showed
202 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
that they were the food and nourishment of his own soul. Nor did he evei
inculcate on his hearers a purer or stricter mode of living than he konestly aimed
at for himself.
I have thus expatiated somewhat largely on the excellencies of Dr. Tappan as
a preacher; and this, partly because the subject is so refreshing, and still more
with a view to furnish a model for imitation. This remarkable man has long
since retired from earth, to shine in a more exalted sphere. Yet it is the privilege
of the eminent to live, not for their own age alone, but for posterity. Our country,
it is confessed, abounds, at the present time, with excellent and useful ministers.
Yet who does not wish that tlieir number, their excellence, and usefulness may be
still greatly increased ' If the pulpit be, as it unquestionably is, the grand engine
of moral and spiritual reformation, how unspeakably important is it that it should
perform its benign work to the greatest possible advantage.
Let me now glance at Dr. Tappan as Divinity Professor in Harvard University.
The period of his appointment to this office was a period of great interest and
difficulty. Our country was just rising from a long depression. Wealth and
prosperity, with their usual attendants, — laxity of morals and dissoluteness of
manners, were generally diffused. The infidelity Avhich had long pervaded France,
and was rapidly pervading Europe, was spreading its contagion through our
community. Truths in morals and religion, hitherto unquestioned, were viewed
by thousands with suspicion, and by other thousands with contempt. The public
mind was unhinged and vacillating. These evils would naturally operate with
peculiar power in the University. The ardour of youth, the love of novelty, the
strength of appetite and passion, and the pride of science, all lent their aid. The
prospect was indeed dark and appalling.
From the difficulties of such a scene the sensitive and humble mind of Dr.
Tappan would have shrunk, but for strong, counteracting considerations; such as
the unanimity of his electors, and likewise of an advisory council, backed by the
decided opinion of his most judicious friends. To the voice of Providence, thus
manifestly addressing him, he meekly listened; entering on the duties of the place
in the very spirit which gave the best presages of success, — with great diffidence
in himself, but with strong confidence in God.
The mode in which his new duties were discharged was judicious and happy.
The public expectation, highly as it had been raised, was more than met. Dr.
Tappan's vigour and versatility of mind, his clear perception and powerful exhi-
bition of heavenly truth, his force of reasoning and richness of style, his spright-
liness of imagination and seriousness of spirit, were all fitted to make the best
impressions on the youth of the Seminary. Many of them were led to see that
the evidences for the Bible and its doctrines were clear and impregnable; and that
the cavils of scepticism and infidelity, however imposing, were hollow and false.
Nor was the number small, who, surrendering their hearts to the claims of reli-
gion, presented in its loveliest forms by a beloved instructor, became, at a subsequent
period, blessings to the Church and blessings to the world.
Suoh were the auspicious results of Dr. Tappan's labours at Cambridge, during
a period of- less than eleven years. It was the fond anticipation of many that his
life would be long spared, and that his later exertions would be even more efficient
and more fruitful of good than the former. But, in the meridian of life, in the
full career of usefulness, and amid the tears of a heart-stricken community, he was,
by a mysterious Providence, suddenly removed.
In contemplating the character of Dr. Tappan, it would be unjust to omit
his patriotism. He dearly loved his country, cherished her interests, mourned
over her sins and calamities, rejoiced in her prosperity, and fondlv hoped that
she M^ould become the glory and l)lessing of the world. The principles and man-
ners which his heart approved, had the warm support of his tongue and his pen.
He delighted to honour those great and good m.en. who not only served their
DAVID TAPPAN.
103
country by their toils, but adorned it by their virtues. Nor did he fail, on proper
occasions, to do justice to their merits, and shield their character from undeserved
reproach.
But his country was the world. Ilis benevolent heart habitually grasped, with
strong interest, the extension of the Church, and the salvation of a ruined race.
Never was he so animated in prayer or in preaching, as when sending out his
soul to the extremities of earth, and to the final, bloodless triumphs of his Saviour
over the sins and miseries of man.
It has been thought by some, however unjustly, that the eminently devout are
often deficient in the exercise of the humane sensibilities and virtues. To this
charge the example of the man we contemplate gives no countenance. His soul
seemed moved by the power of religion into every thing kind, gentle, and
generous.
" He had a tear for pity and a hand
" Open as day to melting charity."
In a word, benevolence, — taking the term in its broadest sense, — was the very
element in which he breathed. It cost him no effort to love the unamiable, or to
be gentle and courteous to the unkind, or to forgive the injurious. Unjust, and
ungrateful treatment — and from this he was not wholly exempt — might excite a
momentary feeling; but for cherished and lengthened resentments there was no
corner in his heart, where they could find a lodging place.
But I must restrain my pen. It may be thought, perhaps, that it should have
been restrained sooner; yet my object, if I know my own heart, has been simple.
It has been to present some lovely lineaments of an eminent man; and this, for
the honour of religion, and the excitement of Christians and Christian ministers.
I need not desire for my ministerial brethren, the genius, the eloquence, the
popularity of a Tappan; but I may safely and properly wish for them a large
share of his purity and humility, of his love to God., his benevolence to man, and
his ardent zeal for the salvation of souls.
I have long been convinced that the cause of religion in our country must rise
or sink with the character of its clergy — their character, I mean, not so much in
point of talents, as of solid goodness and eminent piety. Without this, could they
possess the genius of a Newton, or speak with the tongues of angels, they would
labour comparatively in vain. But thus enriched, they become the blessings of
the Church, the glory of their country, and the benefactors of their race. They
shine with a salutary light on earth; and they will shine in other worlds, as the
brightness of the firmament and as the stars forever ana ever.
Believe me, my dear Sir, very affectionately
Your friend and brother,
DANIEL DANA.
104 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ELIIIU THAYER, D. D.=^
1775—1812.
Elihu Thayer, son of Nathaniel and Mary Thayer, was born in Brain-
tree, Mass., March 29, 1747. His father was a farmer in the middle walks
of life, and both his parents were professors of religion. In his early child-
hood, he was placed under the care of a pious instructer, who daily taught
him the Assembly's Shorter Catechism, together with a portion of sacred
history. So rapid was his improvement that, at the age of seven, he had
read the Bible through in course three times, and was nearly as well
acquainted with the historical parts of it, as he was at any subsequent period
of his life. It was eminently true of him, that, "from a child, he knew the
Holy Scriptures."
Not far from this period, his mind became deeply impressed with the great
truths of religion in their bearing on his own immortal interests. The
immediate occasion of this was the death of a beloved sister. After a season of
deep anxiety, during which he avowed his consciousness of being utterly unre-
conciled to the government of God, his mind settled into a tranquil and subdued
state, from which he dated the commencement of his religious life. In his
subsequent experience, he was the subject of many painful doubts and con-
flicts; but, on the whole, he found evidence in his own heart, and certainly
gave evidence to others, that he truly feared the Lord from his youth.
As he early evinced good natural talents and a strong thirst for knowledge,
it was determined that he should have the advantage of a liberal education.
He accordingly fitted for College, and entered at Princeton, one year in
advance, in 1766. The reason given for his going so far from home, when
Harvard College was in the immediate vicinity, was, that several of his
young friends were going to Princeton, and he preferred to continue associ-
ated with them. He had an excellent reputation as a scholar; and his
sweetness of temper and bland and gentle manners, rendered him a great
favourite in College. He was graduated in 1769. His intense application to
study, during his college course, was the occasion of permanent injury to hits
constitution, and he could hardly be said to enjoy vigorous health in any
subsequent period of his life.
After leaving College, it is believed that he was engaged, for some time,
in teaching a school. His attention, however, was directed to the ministry
as an ultimate profession ; and his theological studies were prosecuted under
the direction, partly of the Rev. Mr. Scarlet of Stoneham, and partly of
the Rev. Mr. Weld of Braintrec. After being licensed to preach, he sup-
plied, for nearly a year, the congregation in Newburyport, of which the
Rev. Dr. Spring was afterwards pastor; and, but for some circumstances
growing out of the peculiar state of the times, just at the commencement
of the Revolutionary war, he would probably have been settled there. He
• MS. from his son, from William Cogswell, D. D., and Jonathan French, D. D.
f John Searle was graduated at Yale College in 1745; was ordained pastor of the church in
Stoneham January 19, 1758; resigned his charge April 24, 1770; and died in 1787. He pub-
lished a Sermon at the ordination of Stephen I'eabody — [who was born at Andover, Mass., in
1742; was graduated at Harvard College in 1709; was ordained pastor of the church in Atkin-
son, N. H., November 25, 1772; and died May 23, 1819, aged seventy-seven. He preached
the New Hampshire Election Sermon in 1797, which was published.]
ELIHU TnAYER. 1()5
was set apart to the pastoral care of the cliurch iu Kingston, N. H., as the
Buccessor of tlie llev. Amos Tappan,* December 18, 1776.
At the organization of the New Hampshire Missionary Society in 1801,
he was elected its President, — iu which othce he continued until 1811, when
his enfeebled health obliged him to decline a re-election.
In 1807, he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Dartmouth
College.
Notwithstanding he suffered much from ill health, during the greater part
of his ministry, and his labours were subject to frequent interruptions, yet
his course was marked with untiring diligence and fidelity. He continued
to preach until a very short time before his death ; and, only the day before,
performed the ceremony of marriage. He was slow to speak of his own
religious exercises, even in the near prospect of death ; but his whole
appearance evinced that he was tranquil and happy. He expressed the
utmost confidence in the truth of the doctrines which he had preached, and
was especially comforted by the reflection that the time, and manner, and
circumstances of his death, were all under the control of infinite wisdom.
For some months previous to his departure, he declared that he felt no dis-
position to pray for the continuance of life ; and when asked, in some of his
last moments, if he could say, — "Not my will, but thine be done," he
modestly replied, — " I hope I can." These were nearly the last words
which he uttered, before entering into his rest. He died April 3, 1812,
aged sixty-five years. The sermon at his funeral was preached by the Rev.
Dr. Chui-ch of Pelham, and was published.
Dr. Thayer was not only an excellent scholar in College, but he retained
his relish for classical learning to the close of life. He fitted a number of
students for College, and not unfi-equently received under his care suspended
members from both Harvard and Dartmouth.
Dr. Thayer published a Sermon at the interment of Governor Bartlett,
1795 ; and a Summary of Christian doctrines and duties. A volume of his
Sermons (octavo) was published in 181.3.
Dr. Thayer was married, December 28, 1780, to Hannah, daughter of Col.
John Calef, of Kingston. They had six sons and five daughters. Mrs.
Thayer survived her husband many years, and died March 26, 1841, aged
eighty-one years.
FROM THE REV. JONATHAN FRENCH, D. D.
North Hampton, N. H., October 23, 1849.
My dear Sir: The feeble state of Dr. Thayer's health, for several years, pre-
vented him from going much abroad beyond his immediate vicinity. He was not
a member of the Association with which I became connected, and I did not see
him very often. I, however, knew him so well as greatly to revere and esteem
him. When he visited his friends in Braintree, his native place, he was accus-
tomed, on his way, to visit my father at Andover, who was his townsman and
contemporary. Both were of the Puritan stock, and of the Puritan faith. I had
therefore some acquaintance with Dr. Thayer from my childhood. When I set-
tled in New Hampshire, within twelve miles of him, I considered it a great privi-
lege to call on him at his parsonage whenever I could.
In his manners and mode of living there was the greatest simplicity. lie was
sedate, but pleasant and communicative; and his conversation was always instruc-
• Amos Tappan was born at Newbury in 1736; was graduated at Harvard College in 1758;
was ordained at Kingston, N. H., August 18, 1762; and died June 23, 1771, aged thirty-five.
Vol. II. 14
106 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
live and engaging. All who knew liim, held him in honour. But, whatever dis-
tinctions were conferred upon him, must have been wholly without his seeking
He was one of the most unassuming of men. Ilis good sense, learning, purity of
life, and unaffected humility, gave great weight to his sermons and his conversa-
tion. An anecdote is related of him, which, whether original in respect to him or
not, must be considered by those who knew him as well applied. An acquaint-
ance, speaking of Dr. Thayer's lowliness, observed, — " It has been said that of all
meek men, Moses was the meekest; but if I might be allowed to take Moses out
of the list, I would put Dr. Thayer in."
Regretting that my recollections of him are not more minute and extended, 1
remain, Yours fraternally,
JONATHAN FRENCH.
FROM THE REV. DANIEL DANA, D. D.
Newburyport, November 10, 1849.
Rev. and dear Sir : The Rev. Dr. Thayer of Kingston was doubtless one of
the most exemplary of Christians, and most devoted of ministers. Yet he
shunned pubhc notice as assiduously as many court it. His chief satisfaction
was obviously found in retirement, and in the noiseless discharge of his important
duties. He exemplified, more literally than most, the beautifully simple descrip-
tion which Goldsmith gives of the village preacher, —
" Remote from towns, he ran his godly race,
" Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change liis place."
Still his merit could not be wholly concealed. His ministerial brethren of the
State honoured themselves, while they honoured him, by bringing him out of his
beloved retreat. During the first ten years of the New Hampshire Missionary
Society, he was annually elected its President. By request of the Trustees of
the same Society, he prepared a " Summary of Christian doctrines and duties,"
which was printed for charitable distribution, and was circulated through the
•State. In this publication, the distinctness of Dr. Thayer's theological views, his
decidedly evangelical sentiments, and the warmth of his pious heart, appear to
great advantage.
In the manner and spirit of his social and public devotions, there was some-
thing remarkable, — yet not easily described. In these duties, his devout heart
seemed to pour its freest aspirations in the ear of a Heavenly Friend and Father;
yet nothing could be more distant from unhallowed familiarity. A profound
reverence and humility pervaded and chastened the whole. Indeed his ordinary
life was a bright exemphfication of the lives of those ancient saints, of whom
it is recorded, with a comprehensive and beautiful simplicity, thut they walked
with God.
In Dr. Thayer's ordinary preaching, there was combined, in a greater degree
than is usual, the instructive with the simple, and the faithful with the affection-
ate. Having alluded in a New Year's sermon to tlie prevalence of religious dis-
sensions among his people and their neglect of public worship, he addresses them
in the following impressive and monitory strain: —
" What is the import of this, in the eyes of God and man ? Is it not this. — the
worship of God. and the instructions of his word, arc of little or no importance ?
How can you answer it to Chri.st who died to give you the Gospel, when you consider
this Gospel not worthy fif your regard ? Lc^^ me ask you, my hearers, do you not
believe, if there were as great and prevailing inattention among tins people in making
provision for their bodies as for tlieir souls, that multitudes would be in a starving
condition, and that poverty and distress would stalk through our streets ?"
" I now solemnly declare to you, in the name of the great God of Heaven and
earth, that unless you repent of these great and prevailing evils, should God give you
prosperity in your worldly affairs this year, he will send his curse with it. He will
curse your very blessings. Remember, the curse of the Lord is in the house of the
wicked, let its other circumstances be what they may."
ELIHU THAYER. 1Q7
" Your kindness to me I readily acknowledge j and yet if I know any thing of my
own heart, could I see a spirit of inquiry after God, and a desire to be instructed in
the way of salvation, — could 1 hear you inquire, ' What shall we do to be saved ?' —
it would afford me greater pleasure. — open to my heart a richer fountain of joy, than
any temporal riches you can bestow on me or mine. Such are habitually my feelings
respecting you. My poor discouraged heart would then rejoice; and 1 should come
to you in this house, with a satisfaction which God has hitherto denied me. I feel
unworthy of this satisfaction. But in such a case, you my hearers, would be the prin-
cipal gainers. Such an event I cannot even hope for, until you put away these evils
from you. The Heavenly Dove will fly far from I'egions of strife; and before God con-
verts sinners in this place, his house will be lilled. You will here come and earnestly
implore his mercy."
It is one of the mysteries of Providence that so faithful and devoted a minister
should have so little success. Yet even here there is something worthy of special
notice. While this good man was sowing in tears, and almost in despondence,
the seed h'e scattered was not lost. Not long after his decease there was a con-
siderable revival of religion among his people. In this state of things, evening
meetings for religious instruction were frequented by numbers, who, in former
years, had absented themselves from public worship. And here it was that not a
few who had turned their backs on the living preacher, were found seriously and
tenderly listening to a volume of his sermons now published. It is easy to con-
ceive that, under such circumstances, the instructions and entreaties of a once
neglected minister might find their way to consciences and hearts, which had been
closed to his living voice. And it was perfectly natural that the preacher, who
was actively employed in the revival, should, in giving an account of it to the
public, consider himself as gathering the harvest for which Dr. Thayer had sown
the seed.
It maj'' not be wholly uninstructive to advert to some circumstances, which may
be viewed as throwing additional light on the ill success of Dr. Thayer's minis-
terial eflbrts. The fact is that, during most of his life, a spirit of bold infidelity
pervaded a portion of that region in which it was his lot to labour. A few men,
some in public station, and some of no mean talents, prostituted their powers and
their influence to the diff"usion of the grossest irreligion, and even of the rankest
atheism. In an enlightened and religious community, efforts such as these, it
might naturally be hoped, would prove abortive. But it is otherwise when
religious ignorance prevails, and when the pious are few in number, spiritless in
exertion, and feeble in influence. In circumstances such as these Dr. Thayer
laboured, — often anxious, sometimes almost discouraged, but uniformly and per-
severingly faithful to his Divine Master and to the souls of men. His labours, if
followed Avith little success on earth, were recorded in Heaven, and doubtless
have been richly recompensed by an omniscient and gracious Judge.
How delightful it is to contemplate the removal of such a man from his anxious
toil, to endless rest; from hard-fought conflicts, to everlasting triumphs; from
scenes of discord, opposition, and sin, to a region of perfect purity, peace, and
love.
It is with some reluctance, my dear Sir, that I offer you so feeble an illustration
of the character of one of the best of men. Had I been favoured with more
intimate and frequent access to him, my sketch would probably have been more
worthy of your acceptance. What I have said has, I am very sure, the recom-
mendation of truth.
I am, with sincere respect and affection, yours,
DANIEL DANA.
X08 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
JOSEPH BUCKMINSTER, D. D *
1775—1812.
FROM MRS. ELIZA BUCKMINSTER LEE.
My dear Sir: The task which you have prescribed for me is delicate, and
in some respects sad ; and yet there is so much in it that is grateful to my
feelings, that I am by no means disinclined to attempt it. I shall certainly
feel embarrassed by the reflection that I am writing concerning my own
father ; but I will endeavour to give you as faithful an outline of his life
and character as I can.
The first ancestor of my father, settled in New England, was Thomas,
who came to Boston in the company of some of the earliest emigrants, and
died at Brookline in 1656. His grandson Joseph, the second of the family
which bore that name, was capable of making a mark upon his age, — a man
of gigantic stature and powerful intellect. At twenty-seven years of age,
he went with an axe upon his shoulder, to fell the trees and form the town-
ship of Framingham, Mass. He had great influence in the affairs of the
town, and at the building of the first meeting house, " for services performed.
he was allowed to .«et up a pew upon either side of the great door which he
chose." This was when the congregation was seated upon benches, accord-
ing to rank and age. Besides occupying a number of important places of
civil trust, he held several military commissions, was commander of a
company of grenadiers in the expedition to Port Royal, and had subsequently
the command of a regiment of Colonial militia. He died in April, 1747.
aged eighty-one years.
His son Joseph, called the second Colonel, was conspicuous in the
transactions of the time ; and, after a long life of public services and
personal worth, (say the records of Framingham,) he died deeply regretted
at the age of eighty-three years.
He had eight children. His second son, William, commanded a company
of minute-men at the Battle of Bunker Hill, and was dangerously wounded.
So great was the influence of his character from his patriotic exertions, that,
although unfit for active service, he was retained in the army till the close
of the war.
Joseph, the eldest son, my grandfather, was educated at Harvard College ;
was graduated in 1739, and was ordained at Rutland, Mass., September 15,
1742. lie was greatly beloved and respected in his ininistry. He published
" Brief Disputations on Ephcsians II, 8, 9, 10," 1767; and "a Brief
Paraphrase upon Romans, X, 4," 1779; for one of which he received the
thanks of an Association of ministers. He married Lucy Williams, whose
mother was a daughter of Solomon Stoddard, a Divine of great celebrity in
the New England Churches. She was first cousin to the yet more
distinguished Jonathan Edwards. Of this marriage there were nine
children.
My father, the fourth child, was born October 14, 1751. He was
distinguished as a child for great activity and ardour in all athletic sports
and in all mental pursuits. His early activity in the labours of the farm
•Parker's Fun. Senn. — Lives of the Buckminsters.
JOSEPH BUCKMINSTER. JQO
served to strengthen his muscles and to impart that freedom and grace lo
all his motions, for which he was eminently distinguished in after life.
When about ten years old, ho escaped from an accident which endangered
his life, and his wonderful preservation made a deep impression upon his
young mind. He was returning from the hay-field upon the top of the
loaded wain, and was thrown oif in such a position that the ponderous wheel
passed directly over his head. He held a pitch fork in his hand, and in
falling, it rested in such a position as to break the force of the wheel and
preserve his life.
He was distinguished for the ardent affections of his boyhood. While he
was yet young, his eldest sister married and went with her husband to the
then far distant West of the Ohio river. It was the first breach in the
family circle, and a separation that gave to the tender afi"ection of his sensi-
tive heart the deepest anguish. Although only a boy, he spent the whole
day after her departure in the loft of the barn, .shedding bitter tears, refu-
sing to join the family circle, or to be comforted for the loss of a sister that
he feared never to see again.
His father had been a son of Harvard, and retained a strong affection for
his Alma Mater ; but the influence of his mother's family, — the Stoddards
and the Williamses, who were closely connected with Yale College, proba-
bly influenced his parents to send him to New Haven. Elisha Williams, a
near relative of his mother, had been President of the College some years
before. It is not known how or where he received his preparatory instruc-
tion, but he entered College in the class of 1766, at the age of fifteen, and
was graduated in 1770. While an undergraduate, he was distinguished for
his exemplary moral deportment, for a winning kindness of disposition, and
for the grace and sweetness of his manners. He was also one of the best
linguists in the class, and he retained through life a love for the Grreek and
Latin classics, and a readiness of quotation in the latter, which was not at
that time considered a mark of pedantry. His well-worn copy of Virgil
and Cicero remained till the close of life upon his study table, although, in
his later years, the Bible superseded all other books.
His distinguished proficiency in the studies pursued at Yale caused him
to be chosen one of the three who enjoyed the privilege of an added three years
at the College upon the liberal foundation of Bishop Berkeley. The
pursuits of these years were of such studies as inclination prompted them
to select. " That Mr. Buckminster devoted himself to the study of The-
ology," remarks a son of Y'^ale, " must have been from a high spirituality of
feeling, as the religious state of the College was very lov: at that period."
Tlic advantages of these three years of added study must have been in pro-
portion to the proficiency and merit by which they were obtained. Among
the names of those who attained to tliis distinction, we find some of the
most honoured in our country. Silas Dean, James Abraham Hillhouse, and
Stephen Mix Mitchell, preceded him ; and his contemporaries were President
D wight and Hon. John Davenport— the last named were warm personal
friends whose attachment continued through life. The Epic bards of our
country, Barlow, Trumbull, Dwight, were contemporaries and also friends
of this period. At this time he was fascinated by the charms of music and
poetry, in both of which arts he was a proficient ; possessing a voice of great
sweetness and flexible power. He might have been distinguished in any
department of elegant literature ; but his choice was fixed, and he gave up
110 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
all the waters of Castalia to taste only of " Slloa's brook, which flows fast
by the oracles of Grod," and "for Parnassus substituted Mount Zion."
At the close of these three years of study, he was appointed Tutor at his
Alma Mater, and held the office four successive years. Dr. Dwight was
fellow Tutor during all but the last year of his residence at Yale.
The contemporary quoted above, says, — " Mr. Buckminster was much
esteemed by his brothers in office, and was universally beloved and respected
by the young gentlemen who had the happiness to be under his instruction."
In consequence of the agitated state of the country and the dangers to which
the sea ports were exposed by the constant expectation of invasion from the
British armament, the two last years of his Tutorship were rendered anxious
and uncertain, and the instruction of his classes quite fragmentary. The
College was disbanded, and the classes scattered in various directions, each
class under its respective Tutor. Notwithstanding the distracted state of
the country, the classes of 1777 and '78, were some of the largest that had
ever entered College, and contained a very large proportion of men who
were afterwards distinguished in the service of the country and in the pulpit.
Thus it is perceived that twelve years of a life, not very long in its whole
duration, were passed in the bosom of Alma Mater. It was impossible that,
with his ardent temperament and warm affections, he should not have formed
a strong and deep attachment to New Haven and to Connecticut. His choice
would have been to remain in that State, where his mind had received its
highest culture, and where was the home of his affections ; but Providence
led him elsewhere. His attachment to the society and to the institutions
of Connecticut remained through life ; and all the journeys which a large
family and a somewhat limited salary allowed him to make in after years,
were directed to the loved halls and the shaded walks of Alma Mater.
During the time of his residence at New Haven, he passed through a
period of deep mental distress, under conviction of his great sinfulness, till
he sank into a state of almost complete despair. Possessing a temperament
of peculiar tenderness and sensibility, his sufferings, during this season of
darkness, were much exaggerated by constitutional nervous depression. It
has been said that sometimes in after life, he looked back upon this as a
season of mere nervous illness rather than as a true contrition for sin ; but
there is every reason to believe, as one of his contemporaries has said, that
he now passed from death unto life ; obtained a good hope of regeneration,
and determined from henceforth to dedicate himself, his time, his talents.
and acquirements to the service of the Redeemer and to God his Father.
There remains to the present time in his own handwriting, drawn up at this
period of distress, a form of self-consecration to the service of God and
Christ, and a summary or confession of his faith. It is too long to be
inserted here, but it accords completely with the Calvinistic doctrines of the
New England Puritans. It expresses the highest spirituality, longing for
an intimate communion with God, but manifesting the deepest humility and
desire for more entire sanctification. It closes with these solemn words :
" Oh God ! perfect in Heaven that which I have attempted on earth ; make
me steadfast in this covenant, that this transaction may be remembered with
joy and not with grief, when I shall stand before thy tribunal at the bar of
Him who knoweth all things, and from whom nothing can be hidden."
Having spent a great part of the eight years of his residence at Yale Col-
lege, after he graduated, in the study of Theology, he was fully prepared to
JOSEPH BUCKMIXSTER. HX
enter on the ministry. He accepted the invitation of the "North church "
in Portsmouth, N. H., and became the immediate successor of Dr. Stiles,
who, after the residence of about a 3'ear in Portsmouth, had been appointed
President of Yale College. The predecessor of Dr. Stiles at Portsmouth
had been the Rev. Mr. Langdon, who had been removed to fill the chair of
President of Harvard College. Thus, at the age of twenty-eight, he suc-
ceeded in the desk two eminent Divines and scholars, who had successively
been removed to fill the first literary stations in the country. It was an
arduous and trying situation for a young man, but he was endowed with
many gifts that eminently fitted him for the sacred ofiice. He possessed
personal advantages that gave him a rare power in the desk. His voice was
strong and eminently musical ; possessing that peculiarity that its lowest
tones had a singular power, and could be distinctly heard in the remotest
corner of the vast, old, double-galleried meeting house. He took a promi-
nent part in the singing, and the pure, bell-like, silver tones of his voice
could always be distinguished in the full choir. His appearance in the
pulpit was dignified, graceful, and imposing ; and when is added to the fervour
and glow of his devotional exercises, that his whole manner in preaching
was penetrated by a peculiar pathos, a deep feeling that illumined his coun-
tenance and trembled in his voice, it is not surprising that no one who ever
saw him in the pulpit could forget the impression he made.
During the first part of his ministry, the country was experiencing those
momentous events that finally established its destiny ; but while they were
passing, they deeply agitated the minds of all men, and laid upon public
instructers a double weight of responsibility. It was then deemed proper,
even indispensable, that ministers should preach upon all subjects of publio
and political interest, expressing their individual opinions with openness,
decision, and independence. At this time there were few newspapers, the
public press was just beginning to be the tremendous power for good or evil
that it has since become ; preaching from the sacred desk, at least in country
places, was one of the most important means of informing the public in
political as well as in religious duties* After his settlement at Portsmouth,
the peace was concluded that finished the war of independence. The terrible
depression of public credit that followed with all its distressing embarrass-
ments, he bore, together with his faithful parish, waiting for better times
for the full payment of his salary. Upon all the public events of absorbing
interest that followed, he was expected to preach, and did preach sermons
that were thought worthy of being more extensively known through the
press. It was urged after his death that the best legacy which could be
given to his people would be a volume of his sermons. Such a gift was
rendered impracticable, by his habit of writing in cypher, the key of which
he imparted to no one. Of the very large number of sermons he wrote,
those upon public and especial occasions are all that remain.
The most distinguishing trait of his preaching, as it was of his character,
was a deep and fervent sensibility ; an entire intellectual conviction of the
importance of the truths he taught, and a glowing and pathetic earnestness
in all his addresses to his people. It was this that made him so precious
to those who were anxious and distressed at their moral state, feeling the
need of repentance and religious trust. It was this that made his presence
so soothing at the side of the bed of sickness, so comforting to the afflicted,
and that touched his lips with a pathetic eloquence as he stood before the
112 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
open grave, and that frequently so glowed in his petitions at the throne of
grace that listeners said " it is immediate inspiration." This scn.sibility, so
conspicuous in his public performances, gave to his private character and to
the intercourse with his friends an irresistible charm. His influence as a
member of the Piscataqua Association of Ministers was ever animating and
ounobliug. Many of the subjects of reform or of public utility originated
with him, and in all their meetings, as a surviving member informs me, his
catholic, enlarged, yet ever conciliating and animating presence, was felt
as a living spirit among them ; and if a meeting occurred and he was not
present, there was an apparent loss of animation in their proceedings ; the
soul of the Association was not there.
My father had been settled about two years when he married Sarah
Stevens, the only child of the liev. Dr. Stevens of Kittery Point, near
Portsmouth. The circumstances of her birth and education had served to
increase the attractions of a natui*e endowed beyond most others. She" lost
her mother at the age of ten years, and was ever afterwards the pupil and
companion of her father. All who remember her, speak not only of her
richly endowed and highly cultivated intellect, but of the loveliness of her
disposition ; the humility, gentleness, and attractive grace of her character.
She was the mother of Joseph Stevens Buckminster and of two daughters.
She lived only till her son had attained the age of six years, but it was long
enough to make those impressions on his tender mind that were never
eflfaced ; to sow the seed that afterwards blossomed into beauty and fra-
grance. Perhaps never did a mother or daughter die more deeply regretted.
The aged father's gray hairs descended in sorrow to the grave ; he survived
his daughter only ten months. Her son, only six years old, ever cherished
her memory with the deepest and tenderest reverence ; and to those who
were too young to know their loss, it was the most irreparable, bereft as
well of the remembrance, as of the possession, of a mother's love !
After my mother's death, my father suffered the first severe attack of
that constitutional melancholy, or nervous depression, to which minds of
the most delicate organization are pec«liarly liable. Such a disease is now
far better understood than it was sixty years ago, but it still defies the
scrutiny of the most sagacious science, and the alleviation of the most
tender humanity. The mind and body partake equally of the prostration ;
but while the delusion of imaginary infirmity is so strong, it is often
relieved by the reality; a serious attack of illness, or a real substantial
fault, could the one invade the health, or the other be attached to the con-
science, would alleviate the imaginary ills of the patient. But alas ! the
insidious enemy preys upon consciences the most void of offence, and upon
health apparently vigorous. The victim's demands upon himself are of
the most inexorable severit}^ and yet his will is powerless to perform, and
the imagination cruelly excited at the disparity between the demand and the
performance ; the reason sinks before it, and the victim is overwhelmed with
despair. In him, it took the form of morbid and exaggerated conscientious-
ness, melancholy apprehensions about the religious state of his friends and
his parish, and a firm persuasion that he was shut out forever from the
mercy of Grod. During this season of mental depression, he omitted
preaching and even discontinued the family devotions, under the persuasion
that every performance of religious service was an act of hypocrisy and an
aggravation of his extreme sinfulness in the sight of God.
JOSEPH BUCKMIKSTER. 1|3
At this time he kept a diary or record of his feelings. But upon these
touching memorials of a tried spirit, under the influence of disease that
gave to them the colouring of despair, the eye of filial affection is closed.
They are the expression of feelings which God alone can understand and
comfort, and they should he exposed to no other eye.
In this season of his deep affliction, he was chosen Professor of Theology at
Phillips Exeter Academy ; the Trustees of this richly endowed institution
liaving then the intention of directing the instruction more to Theology.
iSympathizing friends urged his acceptance of this office, hoping that change
of scene and of occupation would heal the deep wounds of an afflictive
Providence. But he was now firmly rooted in the affections of his people
in Portsmouth, and decided to remain among them.
When he recovered from his deep depression and the clouds of melan-
choly had rolled away, there was none of that exhilaration that usually
follows the removal of nervous disease, but his people observed that, if
])ossible, there was an increase of spirituality and fervour in the work of
the ministry. He was in labours more abundant, anxious to spend and to
be spent in his Master's service. To quote the words of another, "He
loved the work of his Divine Lord and Master above every thing else, and
nothing gave him so much joy as to win souls to Christ." At this time,
beside the stated services of the .sanctuary, he preached twice in the week,
and an evening was set apart for meeting with the brethren and sisters of
the church for especial prayer. Upon such occasions his addresses to the
persons present and his prayers exhibited a wonderful variety and perti-
nency. He seemed to impart his own elevated and devout spirit to all pre-
sent, and the near proximity into vrhich they were brought, made him the
friend and brother of them all.
During the years of my father's widowhood, his chief consolation and
delight was in cultivating the opening talents and graces of his little son.
He began to teach him Latin at four years old, and it was not surprising to
those who were acquainted with the assiduous and careful culture of the father,
that the son so eminently rewarded his care. To the father's watchful,
minute, and ever anxious care, he was indebted for much of the early excel-
lence of his character. Another proof, if it were needed, that the richest
fruits cannot be gathered without watering, pruning, and guarding the young
and precious plant.
It remains only to speak of my father in private and. domestic life ; and
here, I would that another hand might draw aside the veil that shrouds the
joys and the sorrows, the trials and the consolations, of this true servant of
(jrod. He passed through a life of much domestic grief. In the last cen-
tury, the salaries of ministers in every place except that favoured spot
which has been named their " Paradise," were very small. Although tho
society at Portsmouth was as liberal as any other, and perhaps to the
extent of its resources, it did not spare its ministers from anxieties and
struggles that are singularly wearing to generous and refined natures. But
my father experienced trials that more deeply affected his sensitive natun-.
He remained a widower altout three years, and then gave a mother to his
children by marrying Mary Lyman, daughter of the Rev. Isaac Lyman*
of York. His family of twelve children, four of which number died in
• Isaac Lyman was a native of Northampton, Mass. ; was graduated at Vale College in
1747; was ordained pastor of the church in York, A'c., in 1710; and died in 1810.
Vol. TI. 15
i[14 TKINITAIUAN CONfJIiEGATIONAL.
infancy, demandod, with his very moderate .sahiry, the utmost frugality and
economy in extending the ehistic cord of ways and means in order to make
both ends meet. With his extremely generous disposition and habits of
hospitality, he would gladly have seen all his brethren and all the needy at
his frugal table, where the viands were simple indeed, for the visitor; but
for the olive branches so thickly sown around, consistpd of primitive bread
and milk. It was a fixed principle with him to "owu no man any thing.'"
He never had his name upon a tradesman's book, preferring to deny himself
and his family every thing rather than incur a debt.
His second marriage was productive of much happiness. His wife's emi-
nently cheerful disposition was extremely well suited to check the tendency
to melancholy which belonged to his nervous temperament. During her life
he had no return of depression, and liis only anxiety was the progressive
delicacy of her health. After a union of twelve years, her sudden, almost
instantaneous decease, plunged him into a depth of affliction, that for a time
seemed almost insupportable. I well remember that, for a whole night and
day, he walked to and fro in the apartment in agony of grief, tears flowing
like rivers down his cheeks. At the end of that time he gained a degree of
composure, quelled the anguish of his soul so far that he took his children
into the room where their mother rested in the repose of death, and calmed
their agitation while he himself became tranquil, where he was accustomed
to still all agitation, at the throne of grace.
He was a most careful and devoted father. Although, in early life, when
his first children were young, he maintained much of that strictness in his
family, which belonged to the domestic manners of our Puritan fathers, — a
mode of education that certainly withers up in the young heart many of the
sweetest flowers of joy, yet he gradually relaxed that formality, and with
his younger children he lived in the most indulgent familiarity. No sound
was to them so dear as the silvery tones of their father's voice, and no play-
fellow so welcome. When his daughters were absent from his home, he
wrote to them every three or four days, and wished, if he did not exact,
punctual answers. His letters were filled with the tenderest, even maternal,
counsel. In his second widowhood, his daughters were old enough to afford
some companionship to his solitude.
His habits and mode of life were as exact and punctual as, with much
illness in his family, he could preserve. He was an early riser. The
summer sunrise found him, spade or hoe in hand, in his garden, and in the
winter, he substituted the woodpile for his morning's exercise. His habit
was always to finish his sermons, — and he usually wrote two a week, —
before noon on Saturday. In the afternoon he shaved, because he would
not shave on Sunday as on other mornings, and visited those sick or old
people of his parish who could not attend church. Many old, attached
people, were in the habit of saying that " their Sa)>bath began on Sat-
urday, when his conversation and his prayers gave them a foretaste not only
of an earthly but of a Heavenly Sabbath." His company was always sought
by young and old, by the votaries of the world as well as by the serious ;
and, in all social meetings, his presence was indispensable to the cheerful-
ness of the occasion. His imagination was so lively, his conversation so rich
and varied, he was so happy in allusions to subjects that arrested the atten-
tion, and made a valuable impression of truth and duty, where amusement
alone had been sought, that it may be truly said that his character in its
JOSEPH BUCKMINSTER. 215
beauty and goodness was as impressive a sermon every day, as those that
fell from his lips on the Sabbath.
I should give a cold and faithless picture of my father, did I not speak
of the deep spirituality of his life. He lived with God. He was much in
prayer. Prayer was the breath of his daily life. His study was the scene
of his ever living devotions. Indeed, as he himself said, "every beam in
that humble parsonage had witnessed his prayers." The Bible was his
constant study. It is not enougli to say that the Bible was familiar to him ;
it was his by heart. His sermons were rich in quotations from the Scrip-
tures. Scripture biography, e.speciully that of the Patriarchs, was a favourite
subject for his sermons, whei'e his vivid imagination entered fully into the
picturesque Orientalism of their lives and characters. But David was the
character with whose poetical and devotional spirit he wholly sympathized.
The fervent piety and touching humility of David, as exhibited in the
Psalms, found a response in his own breast. The Psalms were committed
to memory and were ever on his lips.
After the settlement of his son in the church in Brattle Street, Boston,
his family was much divided. He deprecated this for his daughters, but sm
their brother was unmarried, one or two of his sisters were necessarily with
him, which left a diminished household, and also deprived him of the comfort
and solace of his eldest daughter,* whose life was a perpetual act <>f devo-
tion to father and brother, and whom neither knew how to spare, after
knowing the comfort of her presence. He married in 1810 Mrs. Ladd, the
widow of one of his most esteemed parishioners. By this marriage, his
pecuniary anxieties were removed, Mrs. Ladd possessing a competent fortune.
He executed a will immediately after his marriage, by which her whole
property, real and personal, was restored intact to her and her children.
In the autumn of 1811, he suffered a severe attack of illness, which left
him in a state of debility and mental depression, such as he had suffered
from, earlier in his ministry. The disease at this time took the form of
melancholy apprehensions concerning the religious state of his society, and
forebodings of the most distressing kind respecting his own safety and the
sincerity of his religious faith. A journey was decided upon with the hope
of restoring him to health and to tranquillity of mind. He continued to
preach and to perform all the public exercises of the sanctuary till the last
Sabbath in May, 1812, when the celebration of the Lord's Supper whb
advanced one Sabbath that he might enjoy this communion once more with
his beloved church. He went through the services without much agitation,
although it was apparent that he felt a foreboding persuasion that he should
never again break the bread of life at the table of his Lord.
On Tuesday, the second of June, he departed with his wife and two
members of his church, intending to proceed as fiir as the Springs of Saratoga.
His fritnd, Dr. Parker, of the South Church, {for, notwithstanding the
difference of their religious opinions, there existed between them the most
confidential and affectionate attachment,) accompanied him as far as New-
burjfort. While Dr. P. remained with him, his mind was comparatively
tranquil, but after he left the party, my father relapsed into a state of
complete nervous dejection. He was able, however, to exercise a severe
control over his feelings, so as not to overshadow the friends who accompa-
nied him, with gloom. The evening before he left home, the physician had
• Afterwards the wife of Professor John Farrar. She died in September, 1824.
\
]^]^g TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
thought proper to take a quantity of blood from his arm ; tho wound now
became exceedingly painful, and his arm so swelled that he could not aid
himself in moving, or bear the pressure of his coat. The swelling and pain
extended across the chest and to the other arm ; but, as his bodily sufferings
increased, his mind regained its tranquillity and its usual vigour. He was
able to enjoy the picturesque scenery, as they approached the green hills
of Vermont, and he entered into conversation with lively pleasure and with
his usual playfulness of remark.
On Monday, the 8th of June, at Brattleborough, ho suffered a severe
relapse. The physician, however, who was consulted at that town, advised
proceeding on the journey, and did not suppose his situation alarming,
although, from the journal kept by one of the company, my father evidently
thought himself dying. On Tuesday evening, at Marlborough, they encoun-
tered a severe thunder storm ; buildings were unroofed and several large
trees prostrated near the inn where the fainting sufferer was sheltered.
During the conflict of the elements he was extremely agitated. He was not
able to rise from his chair, but sitting there with his agitated friends around
him, he poured out the deep emotions of his soul in a prayer that touched
and melted their hearts.
My brother at Boston was at this moment dying after a short and severe
illness ; but my father was wholly ignorant of the fact.
After this conflict of feeling, there was no more agitation or dejection ; he
was calm and manifested till his death the sweetest composure ; not a
complaint escaped him, and his countenance, though pale and sunken,
was placid and elevated, as though he was enjoying peaceful communion
with Grod.
That evening, June 9th, they proceeded as far as Ueedsborough, to a
retired and solitary inn, where the suffering patient was immediately placed
in the bed, from which he was no more to rise. Considerate as he ever was
of the comfort of others, he requested his friends to retire to their repose,
one of his companions resting in the same room with him. He passed the
night in prayer, and asking the gentleman if he disturbed his slumbers, he
answered, '• Oh, I have often slept under your preaching, but I cannot sleep
under such prayers as those."
In the morning when Mrs. Buckminster arose, he said to her, -'My son
Joseph is dead." She, supposing him to have been dreaming, answered,
" No, he was well a few days since, and we shall see him when we return."
" No," said he calmly and decidedly, "he is dead."
His friends were not aware of his extreme illness. They had sent for a
physician early in the morning, but as he dwelt at the distance of eleven
miles, he did not arrive till ten o'clock. When he entered, he fixed his dying
eyes upon him and said, — " T am in the hands of God." After some conversa-
tion with the physician, who did not conceal from him his dying state, he
spent the time in ejaculatory prayer till about two o'clock, when he expired
in serenity and peace.
My brother Joseph had preceded him less than twenty-four hours upon
the path to immortality.
His remains were interred at Bennington, Vermont, and a funeral sermon
preached by the Rev. Mr. Marsh* of that place.
• Daniel Marsh was born at Now Milford, Conn., May 10, 1762; was graduated at Wil-
llanu College in 1795 ; was ordained pastor of the church in Bennington, Vt., in the autumn
JOSEPH BUCKMINSTER. 117
The parish in Portsmouth commemorated his death by a funeral service,
upon which occasion, the Rev. Nathan Parker preached an appropriate
sermon. A monumental stone was also placed hy his attached society upon
his grave in Bennington with a suitable inscription, written by the Rev.
Daniel Dana, D. D., of Newburyport.
The following is a list of my father's publications : — A Thanksgiving
Sermon on occasion of the ratification of the Treaty of Peace, 1783. A
Discourse delivered when the President of the United States visited Ports-
mouth, 1789. A Sermon at the interment of Mrs. Porter of Rye, 1794.
Two Discourses on the duty cf Republican citizens in the choice of their
rulers, 1796. A Discourse delivered at Hampton on a day of Fasting and
Prayer : Being Remarks on the dispute and separation of Paul and Barna-
bas, 1796._ A discourse delivered at Exeter on the death of Mrs. Rowland.
1798. A Discourse on Thanksgiving day, 1798. A Sermon before the
Ecclesiastical Convention of New Hampshire, 1799. A Sermon delivered
on the Lord's day after the melancholy tidings of the death of Washington,
17^. "Two Sermons delivered in the First Church in Portsmouth, on the
9th of January, the house being shrouded in mourning in token of respect to
the memory of Washington, 1800. A Sermon preached to the united
Congregational churches in Portsmouth, on the 22d of February, the day
appointed by Congress to pay respect to the memory of Washington, 1800.
A Discourse on the anniversary of the death of Washington, 1800. A
Sermon on Domestic Happiness, 1803. A Discourse occasioned by the
desolating Fire in Portsmouth, 1803. A Discourse on Baptism, 1803. A
Discourse upon Christian Charity, — being the conclusion of the Sermon
upon Baptism, 1803. A Discourse before the Portsmouth Female Charita-
ble School, 1803. A Discourse at the ordination of his son, 1805. A
Discourse at the interment of the Rev. Dr. Haven and his wife, 1806. A
Sermon at the Installation of the Rev. James Miltimore,* 1808. A Sermon
before the Charitable Society of Newburyport, 1809. A Sermon at the
Installation of James Thurston,! 1809. A Sermon at the interment of the
Rev. Moses Hemmenway, D. D., 1811. Substance of three Discourses
delivered in Park Street Church, Boston, 1811.
Besides the above mentioned Sermons, he published a short memoir of
Dr. Maclintock of Greenland, N. H. He was also one of the authors of the
Piscataqua River Prayer Book, for the use of families, and a constant
contributor to the pages of the " Piscataqua Missionary Magazine."
In 1803, he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the College
of New Jersey.
of 1806; was dismissed April 25, 1820; after which he went to Jamesville, N. Y., where he
preached for several years, — until he lost his sight. He continued to reside there till his death,
which occurred in tlie year 1813.
•James Miltimore was born at Londonderry, N. H., January 4, 1755; was graduated at
Dartmouth College in 1774; was ordained pastor of the church in Stratham, N. H., February
1, 1786; was dismissed October 15, 1807; was installed pastor of the Belleville church, (New-
bury,) Mass., April 27, 1808; and died in 1836. He published a Discourse delivered at New
Market before a respectable musical choir, 1794; and a Sermon at the Dedication of the new
meeting house at Belleville, 1807.
t James Thurston was born at Exeter, N. II., March 17, 1769; did not receive a collegiate
education; was ordained pastor of the church in New Market, October 15, 1800; was dismissed;
was installed pastor of the church in Manchester, Mass., April 19, 1809; resigned his charge
June 17, 1819; and is deceased.
;[]^g TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
He left at his death one son and five daughters. Olivia married George
B. Emerson, and has two children surviving. Mary Lyman married Rev.
Samuel Kirkland Lothrop, and has five children now living.
I am, dear Sir, very truly yours,
ELIZA BUCKMINSTER LEE.
FROM THE REV. DANIEL DANA. D. D.
Newburyport, June 22, 1848.
Rev. and dear Sir: It was my privilege to enjoy, for nearly twenty years, an
acquaintance with the Rev. Dr. Euckminster of Portsmouth, and I may add, some
share in his friendship. My impressions of his character and worth are very dis-
tinct and decided. Circumstances, however, did not favour a frequent personal
intercourse, such as might have led me deeply into the interior of his mind and
heart. Of his more prominent qualities I can speak with confidence.
From his first appearance in this region he possessed an unusual degree of
popularity. For this he was indebted in part to certain exterior accomplish-
ments;— to a fine commanding person", a brilliant eye, a voice of unusual melody,
and* a demeanour at once dignified and attractive. To these advantages were
superadded a lively and active imagination, which imparted ornament to his ser-
mons, variety to his prayers, and interest to his ordinary conversation.
He possessed likewise an unusual readiness of thought and affluence of lan-
guage. Few public speakers have exhibited so entire a command over their own
resources. Few have with so much facilitj" summoned their faculties and acqui-
sitions to tlie announcement and illustration of Scripture truth.
With these accomplishments he could scarcelj^ fail to interest all classes of
hearers. In this point, he liad an imusual degree of success. There were other
characteristics of his preaching which peculiarly endeared him to the pious. His
discourses were truly evangelical. They exhibited the Gospel, in its simpli-
city, richness, and power. Still there was much variety in his preaching. It had
much to do with the history and biography of the Old Testament. Indeed every
part of the Bible became in his hands an instrument of spiritual instruction.
Dr. Buckminster was an attentive and devout observer of the events and aspects
of Providence. From this source he drew much which went to diversify his pul-
pit instructions; much which gave them interest and impression. Topics of tliis
description were made subservient, not to the purpose of display, not to the mere
gratification of curiositj^ but to solid spiritual instruction. He was specially
solicitous that those dispensations of Heaven which came home to the bosoms of
his beloved people, should turn to their immortal benefit. During his ministry,
the town of Portsmouth was repeatedly visited with distressing and desolating
fires. These calamities were made by him vehicles of the most pungent instruc-
tion and the most faithful warning.
Still, on these occasions, and in all his rebukes and denunciations of sin, there
was a presiding spirit of tenderness — a spirit manifest in his eye, his aspect, and
tones of voice; — a tenderness which, far from neutralizing his reproofs, gave them
a double force and impression.
His intercourse with his brethren in the ministry was instructive and improv-
ing. It eminently combined the faithful and the affectionate. He was anxious
that all their meetings, stated and occasional, should turn to their own spiritual
account and that of their respective flocks. " He was ever ready," says one of
his brethren, "to strengthen our hands and encourage our hearts. "With tender-
ness he reminded us of our faults, and counselled us in our difficulties." Referring
to a sermon addressed by Dr. Buckminster to the As.sociation of which he was a
member, the same brother remarks, — " He unfolded the danger to which ministers
are exposed of neglecting their own hearts, while tlie}^ preach to others; the
JOSEPH BUCKMINSTER. 219
necessity of their possessing personal holiness and of their aiding each other in
their responsible oflBces."
In the autumn of 1789, Dr. Buckminster was called to perform an extraordinary
service. In that year, General Washington was on a tour to New England. He
spent a Sabbath in Portsmouth, and attended worship one half of the day at Dr.
Buckminster's church. The text selected for the occasion was a passao-e from the
twenty fourth Psalm: " Lift up your heads," &c. Some thought the selection a
great mistake; and some even viewed it as a kind of idolatrous homa"-e to the
great man. But the selection, whether legitimate or not, had a very legitimate
design. The preacher's object was to direct the homage of his audience to the
Supreme of beings; and to show that if such universal reverence was paid and
justly paid to the Father and first Magistrate of his country, a veneration
infinitely superior was due to the Kixg of glory. So it was well understood bv
all the candid and judicious at the time.
I have been told that it was Dr. Buckminster's practice, when any of his con-
gregation, and especially of his church, were absent from worship on the Sabbath,
to call at their dwellings on Monday and inquire concerning their health. The
practice was well fitted to secure a general attendance, at the sanctuary. Its
revival, however, would but ill accord with these degenerate days. It would
oppress many a minister with a mass of Monday visitings. And it would doubt-
less be perplexing and mortifying to many a hearer.
Thus, ray dear Sir, I have furnished you some brief and imperfect notices of a
distinguished minister of a former generation. He was a man worthy to be held
in everlasting remembrance. It is refreshing to look back on one who so ably and
faithfully preached the Gospel of our adored Saviour, and whose life so beautifully
enforced and adorned the Gospel he preached.
Believe me, with sincere respect and affection, j-ours,
DANIEL DANA.
In addition to the above ample and satisfactory testimony concerning Dr.
Buckminster, I think proper to state that I had solicited a communication
on the same subject from our illustrious statesman, Daniel Webster, who,
for several years, sat under Dr. Buckminster's preaching and communed
with his church ; and he had kindly promised to furnish it, but died before
he had time to fulfil his purpose. In his reply to my letter containing the
request, he referred to his long intimacy with Dr. Buckminster and hia
family, and expressed a warmly affectionate and reverential regard for his
character.
220 TRINITARIAN CONGKEGATIONAL.
DAVID PA11S0N8, D. D *
1775—1823.
David Parsons was a descendant, in the fourth generation, from Joseph
Parsons, who came from England about 1635, and settled first in Spring-
field, Mass ; removed to Northampton in 1(345, but returned to Springfiehl in
1679, and died there, March '2b, 1684. He was a grandson of David Par-
sons, wlio was a native of Northampton ; was graduated at Harvard Col-
lege in 1705 ; was ordained minister of Maiden in 1709 ; was dismissed
May 21, 1721 ; was installed at Leicester in September following ; was
dismissed in 1735, in consequence of a difficulty arising from the neglect to
pay liis salary ; and died at Leicester in 1737. He was a son of David
Parsons, v.'ho was born at Maiden, March 21, 1712 ; was graduated at Har-
vard College in 1729 ; v,'as ordained the first minister of Amherst, Novem-
ber 7, 1739 ; was married to Eunice Wells of Wethersfield, Conn. ; and
died January 1, 1781, aged sixty-nine.
David Parsons, the subject of this sketch, was born at Amherst, January
28, 1749. He fitted for College, as is supposed, under the instruction of
his father, and was graduated at Harvard in 1771. His theological courso
also is believed to have been pursued under his father's direction. He was
licensed to preach about the year 1775, and preached with great acceptance
at Roxbury, Mass., and in several churches in Connecticut, and received
two or three invitations to settle in the ministry. But, owing partly to the
unsettled state of tht- country, and partly to the feebleness of his health, he
declined these invitations ; and, in the courso of four or five years, con-
cluded to relinquish the ministry and engage in mercantile business in his
native town. On the sudden death of his father, however, in the beginning
of 1781, the people of Amherst immediately called upon him to give up his
business arrangements, and settle with them in the ministry ; and when he
declined the invitation on the ground of inadequate health, they insisted
upon his preaching for them for a season, by way of experiment, — to which he
reluctantly yielded. After supplying the pulpit till the autumn of 1782. —
his health having, in the mean time, considerably improved, he consented to
become their pastor ; and accordingly, on the 2nd of October of that year,
he was ordained as his father's successor. The Rev. Mr. Breck of Spring-
field preached the ordination sermon.
In 1788, he preached the Annual Election Sermon before the Legislature
of Massachusetts, which was published.
In 1795, he was elected Professor of Divinity in Yale College ; but was
led, chiefly by his strong attachment to his people, to decline the appoint-
ment.
In 1800, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from
Brown University.
During the latter part of Dr. Parsons' ministry, there were several
revivals of religion in his parish, of considerable extent, — especially one in
1816, which resulted in an addition to his church of more than a hundred
members.
• MS. from bis family.
DAYID PARSONS. 121
He was an earnest friend to the cause of education. For many years he
"was in the habit of receiving into his family students who were suspended
from Harvard College, and his instruction and discipline proved highly
satisfactory to the College authorities. He took a deep interest in the
establishment and prosperity of schools, — especially in all efforts to pro-
mote education among his own people. Not many years before his death,
he had an important agency in establishing the Academy at Amherst, and
gave the land for the building and procured a bell at his own expense. This
was originally intended as a Collegiate School ; and from it grew up what is
now known as Amherst College. He contributed largely, in different ways,
to the establishment of the College, though he did not live to see it in
operation.
Dr. Parsons, after a ministry of nearly thirty-seven years, was dismissed
at his own request, on the 1st of September, 1819; and a few months after,
his place was filled by the Eev. Daniel A. Clark. He died suddenly,
while on a visit to his friends at Wethersfield, Conn., May 18, 1823. His
funeral sermon was preached by the Kev. Dr. Tenney of Wethersfield ;
and, on the succeeding Sabbath, a sermon appropriate to the occasion was
addressed to his former flock by the Rev. Mr. Clark.
He was married on the 24th of November, 1785, to Harriet, daughter of
Ezekiel Williams of Wethersfield, — a gentleman who lived to a great age,
and was distinguished for his piety, benevolence, and public spirit. Mrs.
I'arsons survived her husband many years, and died June 5, 1850. aged
eighty-six. They had eleven children, of whom six were sous. Two of
them have been graduated at College, and three connected with the liberal
professions.
FROM THE REV. SAMUEL OSGOOD, D. D.
Springfield, February 20, 1856.
My dear Sir : When I came to settle in this place in 1809, Dr. Parsons had
been for many years the minister of Amherst; and, as he had relatives here whom
he frequently visited, I was soon brought into pleasant relations with him, which
continued till the close of his life. I have perhaps as distinct an impression of his
peculiar characteristics, as of those of almost any individual who has passed
away.
Dr. Parsons had the advantage of an uncommonly fine person. He was of
about the medium height, and rather inclined to corpulency ; his features were
regular; his eye was raven-black, and his whole face beamed with intelligence and
good-nature. He possessed social qualities of a high order. No matter into
what circle he might be thrown, it was impossible that he should be eitiier buried
or hidden in it ; for tliough there was nothing in his manner assuming or monopo-
lizing, his great fluency of utterance, his fine flow of social feeling, his extensive
knowledge of men and things, and his inexhaustible fund of anecdote, seemed to
mark him as a leader in almost any conversation that might be introduced. His
manners were at once free and graceful, and seemed to have been formed from an
o-xtcnsive intercourse with the world.
In his theological views. Dr. Parsons was of the Edwardean school; and he
never faltered in his attachment to this system till the close of life. His preach-
ing was sensible and instructive and gave you the impression that there was a
good deal of reserved power that was not put forth; that his faculties, the ordi-
nary operation of which was highly respectable, Avere yet capable of being stinir
lated to a much higher effort than you actually witnessed. He read his sermons
Vol. II 16
122 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
closely, after the ancient New England manner, and had little or no action in the
pulpit, though ho was far from being tame or dull in his delivery, lie was, if 1
mistake not, in his earlier days, mucli more popular as a preacher, than in the
later periods of his life.
That would be a very unfinished and even false portrait of Dr. Parsons, that
should not include his irreprcssilde good-humour and facetiousness. He liad not
only the keenest sense of the ridiculous, but he indulged hiuuself in this way without
much restraint; and many of his witticisms have been embalmed by tradition.
It is due to justice, however, to state, that he was capable of being profoundly
serious, and bringing those about him to feel deeply the solemnities of the eternal
world. I believe that his passion for drollery never came out in the least degree
in the pulpit; though it may reasonably be doubted whether his jokes out of the
pulpit, with which the memories of his hearers were stored, did not sometimes
ocscur to them in the meeting-house, to neutralize, in some degree, the effect of his
solemn appeals. The Doctor was himself fully sensible of this infirmity, and in
conversation with his friends, used sometimes deeply to deplore it. I remember
one anecdote of him, which not only illustrates this, but shows also the great
strength of the propensity, lie had been to Wethersfield to attend the funeral
of his sister-in-law. Miss Williams, an eminently pious woman. On his return,
he called upon his brother-in-law. Dr. Howard of this place, and they entered into
a conversation on the exemplary and excellent character of their decca.sed sister.
Dr. Howard, finding his brother Parsons in a more than commonly thoughtful
and tender mood, availed himself of the favourable moment to remind liim of hi.s
want of due circumspection in his ordinary intercourse. The Doctor heard him,
not only with a kindly spirit, but with much apparent emotion, and remarked —
" I know it all, brother Howard; and it has been my burden through life; but I
suppose after all that grace does not cure squint eyes." That was Doctor Par-
sons exactljr. I am, very truly, yours,
S. OSGOOD.
EZRA SAMPSON *
1775—1823.
Ezra Sampson, the son of Uriah and Ann (White) Sampson, was born
in Middleborough, Mass., in February, 1749. His early years were spent
in labouring on his father's farm. Having gone through his cour.se of prepa-
ration for College in an unusually short time, under the instruction of the
Rev. Solomon lleedt of Middleborough, he entered Yale College in 1769,
and was graduated in 1773 : though his class was distinguished for the num-
ber of eminent men it produced, he was reckoned inferior to none in point
• MS^ from .Joseph Sampson, Esq.
t Solomon Rp.En was l)orn in Abington, Mass., in 1718; was graduated at Harvard College in
17."'.9; w.os settled in the ministry at 1-ramingham in 1747; was dismissed in 1756; was installed
pastor of the North church in Middleborough, Mass., in January 1757; and died in May 1785.
He had four sons; three of whom were minister.^. John, the eldest (Unitarian) forms a distinct
subject in this work. Solomnn, the second son, was born in 1752; was graduated at Yale Col-
lege in 1775; was ordained pastor of the church in Petersham, Mass., October 25, 1780; resigned
his charge .Tunc 25, 1800; and died February 2, 1808, aged fifty-five. Samuel, the third "son,
was born in 1754; was graduated at Yale College in 1777; was ordained pastor of the church
in Warwick, Mass., September 2.3, 1779; and died July 21, 1812, aged fifty-seven. Tiwothii,
t'^e youngest son, was born in 1756; settled as a lawyer in Bridgewater, Mass.; received the
Honorary degree of Master of Arts from Y'ale College in 1782; and died in 181.3.
EZRA SAMPSON. X23
of scholarship. On leaving College, he immediately commenced the study
of Theology, and was in due time licensed to preach. In 1775, he acted as
volunteer Chaplain in the camp at Roxbury, and in July of that year
preached a sermon before Colonel Cotton's regiment, of so patriotic and
inspiriting a character that it was immediately printed by request of the
army. His heart was warmly in his country's cause ; and he lost no oppor-
tunity of serving that cause, during the whole period of the Revolution.
On the 15th of February, 1775, he was settled as minister of the Congre-
gational church at Plymptou. Mass. Here he remained in the faithful
discharge of his duties, and greatly beloved by his people, during a period
of twenty years. He is knoimi to have fitted for College the Hon. John
Davis, for many years Judge of the District Court of the United States ;
and it is believed that he performed the same service for some others. In
consequence of an affection of his head, together with a partial failure of
his voice, which disqualified him for the active duties of his profession, he
resigned his pastoral charge on the 4th of April, 1796. Shortly after this,
he removed to Hudson, N. Y., where he devoted himself chiefly to literary
pursuits, preaching only occasionally, either at funerals, or on the Sabbath,
when the Presbyterian church in that town could not be otherwise supplied.
In 1801, he, in connection with Mr. (now the Rev. Dr.) Harry Croswell,
originated the well known newspaper at Hudson, called '• The Balance."
Of this paper he continued joint editor with Mr. Croswell until 1801, when
he withdrew and left Mr. C. its sole proprietor. In 1802, he published a
Compilation from the Sacred Scriptures, called "The Beauties of the Bible"
— a work designed especially for the use of schools, and alike felicitous in its
conception and its execution. Soon after this he published another valuable
school book entitled "The Historical Dictionary;" which passed through
several large editions. In the year 1804, he was solicited to take the editorial
charge of that old and highly respectable paper, the Connecticut Courant,
He went to Hartford, without removing his family thither, and remained
about a year, and then returned to Hudson ; but he continued to write for
the Courant for many years afterwards ; during which time, the soundness
of his views on general politics, and the elevated tone of his numerous
moral Essays, contributed greatly to the popularity and usefulness of that
paper. The labours of his pen were concluded with the last number of
"Tbe Brief Remarker," in 1817 ; or rather with a revision of that admira-
ble series of papers with a view to their being published in a volume ; in
which form they have passed through several editions. In April, 1814, he
was appointed by Governor Tompkins one of the Judges of the Court in
Columbia county ; but he served in that capacity only a short time.
During the last three years of his life, he resided with his childi-en in the
city of New York, and until within about two weeks of his death, continued
the same diligent, nay indefatigable, student as before.
Mr. Sampson's last illness was of but a few days' duration — it was a severe
cold attended by fever and an afi'ection of the throat. Though he experi-
enced intense suffering, the use of his intellectual faculties was continued to
him to the last, and the testimony which he rendered to the all-sustaining
power of Christianity was most unequivocal and delightful. The last words
which he was heard to utter were — " Bless the Lord, 0 my soul, and forget
not all his benefits. He has crowned me with loving kindness, and his ten-
124 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
der mercy has held out to the last," He died in New York, on the 12th
of December, 1823, having nearly completed his seventy-fifth year.
Beside his puLlicatious noticed above, were a Thanksgiving Sermon, 1795 ;
and " The Sham Patriot unmasked," 1803. This was first published in a
series of numbers in "The Balance," and afterwards in a small volume. In
1806, a large edition was published in Massachusetts, with the addition to
the title page — "Who shall be Governor — Strong or Sullivan?"
Mr. Sampson was married in the spring of 1776, to Mary Bourne of
Falmouth, Mass. They had six children. One of the sons studied law
under Elisha Williams of Hudson, and was admitted to practice, but died
shortly afterwards. The rest of the sons were educated to mercantile pur-
suits. Mrs. Sampson died at Hudson in the year 1812. She was a sensible,
discreet, and affectionate wife and mother.
FROM THE REV. EDWARD ROBINSON, D. D.,
PEOFESSOR IN THE UNION THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY IN NEW YORK.
New York, May 3, 185G.
Rev. and dear Sir: From my early childhood 1 heard much of the Rev. Ezra
Saini^sou from my father, who was his classmate in College, and was ever his
warm friend. My personal acquaintance with him was confined to a few months
in the year 1817, during which I resided in Hudson. If, therefore, my notices of
him are few and meagre, you will not wonder; especially as the shadow of almost
forty years has spread itself over these recollections.
My father was accustomed to speak of his friend while in College, as being both
Sampson by name and Sampson by nature; as the first among the members of his
class both in intellectual and physical strength. A strong friendship and intimacy
sprung up between them ; ]Mr. Sampson being twenty -four when he graduated,
and my ftther nineteen. Distance and the cares of life interrupted the intimacy;
but the friendship continued until their dying day. Among my father's papers
are several letters from Mr. Sampson, written during the years 177'4 to 1777; as
also one in 1805, and another in 1817.
In a letter dated from Plympton, October 2, 1775, and written not long after a
visit from my father, Mr. Sampson speaks of sending him a copy of his Sermon
" to the soldiers," tlien recently printed, which he characterizes as " needing many
apologies;" some of which he proceeds to enumerate. In another letter dated May
18, 1776, he announces to his friend his recent marriage with Mary Bourne; and
sends no less than nine subjects for a master's disputation. The two friends did
not meet again until after the lapse of nearly tliirty 3'ears; nor does the corrt'S-
pondencc appear to have been kept up.
When Mr. Sampson removed to Hudson, and had charge of the " Balance,"
my father received the paper regularly', and took great satisfaction in perusing it.
I also read it, as a boy; and formed an exalted idea of the editor, as boys usually
do of all editors. While Mr. Sampson was at Hartford, the personal intercourse
of the friends appears to have been renewed. My father was often in that city;
and Mr. Sampson promised, and laid his plans, to visit my father at Southington.
But his purpose was frustrated; as hcAvrote in a letter dated September 24, 1805,
the day before his departure from Hartford. No furtlier intercourse took place
until the year 1817.
In February of that j^ear, I went to Hudson, intending to enter the law oflBce
of the late Elisha Williams. By the advice of his partner, Mr. McKinstry, I was
led to change this purpose, and went into the office of the late James Strong,
afterwards Member of Congress. There was in Hudson at that time a circle of
young men, connected mostly, though not all, with the law offices; W'ho had a
EZRA SAMPSON. 125
good deal of literary taste, and a desire to cultivate it. I may mention here the
late Rev. Dr. Bedell, afterwards of Philadelphia; the late William L. Stone, who
had just removed to Albany, but was often in Hudson; besides several others
who have since become eminent at the bar. I soon became acquainted with
them; and, as a matter of course, also with Mr. Sampson. Whether my father
gave me a letter of introduction to him, I do not now remember; but I cannot
suppose otherwise. At an}- rate, I have to look back upon my intercourse with
him at that time, as one of the most pleasing and profitable epochs of my life.
He was then living entirel}' retired from all public employment, and devoted
his time mainly to reading. Just about that time he had completed, or was com-
pleting, his admirable volume, the " Brief Remarker." He was greatly interested
in all that was going on in public; and took special interest in young men and
their pursuits. He seemed to enjoy the entire confidence of the whole community,
old and young; and all looked up to him as a Avise counsellor and father. When
the little circle above mentioned established a Debating Societj^, the meetings of
which were held in the court house, Mr. Sampson consented to appear as its head;
and presided for some time in its public meetings.
Of the more private intercourse which I had with him, I retain mainly the
impression of the kindness of his manner, the suavity and richness of his conver-
sation, and the wisdom of his counsels. His stature (if I recollect aright) was
about the middle height; and his frame rather stout than slender, indicating
strength. He had light eyes, and hair of a silverj' grey, with an expression of
countenance strikingly benevolent. He was then sixty-eight years of age. His
habits were regular and simple. He kept a window of his "solitary room" (as
he called it) continually open, both summer and winter, as he told me, for the
purpose of ventilation, — he having been a great lover of fresh air.
His acquaintance with me served to revive his early affection for my father ;
and after my departure he wrote him a letter, dated September 24, 1817, — from
which the following is an extract : —
"My dear Sir: I have sometimes found by my own experience, that certain
things, for a long while faded from recollection, are brought back anew and with
freshness by an association of ideas; and never perhaps in all my life has it been
more remarkably so with me, than in the instance I am going to mention.
"Between us two there was, in our juvenile days, the closest intimacy. But
time and distance, — the lapse of almost half a century and the wide space that
separates us, — had well nigh obliterated in me the minute particulars of that inti-
macy,— when an acquaintance Avith your son, alike unexpected and pleasing,
seemed at once to bring them up from oblivion into clear view. Believe me, dear
Sir, in thought I am now and then walking Avith you in the suburbs of old Yale,
just as we used to walk together, when your own age Avas about the measure of
his. It is thus I dream with my eyes open."
During the three years that Mr. Sampson still remained in Hudson, ni)'' father
once visited him on his Avay to or from Catskill. After his removal to New York,
I likewise once called upon him. He appeared to be unAvell; and, though kind
and gentle as ever, he did not exhibit that vivacity and interest in the various
topics of conversation, to which I had been accustomed in him. Not long after-
wards he was called home.
I take pleasure in this opportunity to give my testimony to the high worth of
my father's friend and the friend of my own youth.
Ever truly yours.
EDWARD ROBINSON.
126 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ELIPHALET PEARSON, L. L. D *
1775—1826.
Eliphalet Pearson was a descendant, in the fourth generation, from
John Pearson, who was born in Yorkshire, England, in 1615, and came to
this country and settled in llowley, Mass., about the year 1643. He built
there the first clothing mill in New England, was one of the largest land-
holders of the town, and for nine years was a Representative at the General
Court. He was chosen Deacon of the church in 1686, and died December
22, 1692, aged seventy-eight years.
The subject of this sketch was the eldest son of David and Sarah
(Danforth) Pearson, and was born at Byfield, a parish in Newbury, Mass.,
in June, 1752. His father was a respectable farmer and mill owner, and
took sides sti'ongly against all political and religious innovations. He (the
son) spent his early years partly in aiding his father in his agricultural pur-
suits, and partly in preparing to enter College. He pursued his preparatory
studies under the celebrated Master Moody, at Dummer Academy, which
was opened when he was only eleven or twelve years old. The school being
distant three or four miles from his father's house, he was accustomed to
walk that distance twice every day, carrying his dinner, and preparing for
his recitations, in a great measure, as he passed to and fro. Ho entered
Harvard College in 1769 and graduated in 1773 with great distinction, his
classmate Parsons (afterwards Chief Justice of Massachusetts) and himself
sustaining a forensic on the African Slave trade. The performance was so
remarkable that it was afterwards published by request.
Soon after leaving College, he engaged in teaching a Grammar school at
Andover, in connection with which he prosecuted a course of theological
study. In due time he was licensed to preach. He, however, never
preached as a candidate for settlement, but only occasionally to supply a
vacancy ; his sight being at that time so weak as to forbid the hope of his
being able to engage permanently in the ministry. In 1775, he was of great
service to Lieut. Governor Phillips in executing a commission he had
received from the General Court convened at Watertown, to manufacture
saltpetre and gunpowder for carrying on the war. He was designated by
his friend Governor Phillips to the office of first Preceptor of Phillips
Academy, opened at Andover in April, 1778. He continued in this office
until April, 1786, when he removed to Cambridge, having been elected
Professor of Hebrew and other Oriental languages in Harvard College. In
1800, he was chosen Fellow of the College, and held the office until 1806.
On the decease of Lieut. Governor Phillips in 1802, he was chosen to suc-
ceed him as President of the Board of Trustees of Phillips Academy, and
continued in this office until 1820. In 1802, he was honoured with the
degree of L. L. D. from both Yale College and the College of New Jersey.
After the death of President Willard in 1804, he discharged the duties of
President, as the oldest member of the Faculty, and was one of the promi-
nent candidates for that office. He performed the various duties of his
Professorship with great diligence, fidelity, and success ; and it may be
doubted whether he had his equal in this country, at that time, especially
in the department of criticism.
* MSS. from Ma family.
ELIPIIALET TEAKSON. 127
In March, 1806, he resigned his offices in Harvard College and returned to
Andover, after a twenty years' residence at Cambridge. He immediately
engaged, in connection with one or two other gentlemen, in the project of
establishing a Theological Seminary at Andover ; and when a similar insti-
tution was projected at Newbury by another class of founders, he engaged
earnestly in promoting the union of the two. On the accomplishment of
this object, and the opening of the Seminary, he was ordained and inducted,
September 22, 1808, into the office of Professor of Sacred Literature, the
sermon on the occasion being preached by President Dwight. After filling
this office for a single year he resigned it ; but continued to reside in Ando-
ver, cultivating a small farm, in connection with his literary and religious
pursuits. He continued an active Trustee of the Academy at Andover ; was
Secretary of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences ; President of
the Society for promoting Christian Knowledge ; one of the founders of the
American Education Society ; a member of the Massachusetts Historical
Society ; of the Society for propagating the Gospel among the Indians and
others in North America ; of the Massachusetts Congregational Society ; of
the Society for the Suppression of Intemperance, &c., &c. He preached
occasionally at home and abroad ; and was always ready to put forth a help-
ing hand in aid of the interests of learning or religion.
In 1820, Dr. Pearson removed to Harvard, Worcester County, where he
spent the residue of his days, chiefly in the business of agriculture. He
died of dysentery, while on a visit to his daughter in Greenland, N. H.,
September 12, 1826, aged seventy-four. A sermon on occasion of his death
was preached by the Rev. Dr. Parker of Portsmouth.
Dr. Pearson published a Lecture occasioned by the death of President
Willard, 1804 ; a Sermon before the Massachusetts Society for promoting
Christian Knowledge, 1811 ; a Sermon at the funeral of Madam Phoebe
Phillips, 1812; a Sermon at the ordination of Ephraim Abbot at Green-
land, N. H., 1812; a Sermon before the American Society for educating
pious youth for the Gospel ministry, 1815.
He prepared and published, while Professor at Cambridge, a Hebrew
Grammar. He also prepared for the press an abridgement of Bishop
Wilson's Sacra Privata, and prepared, or superintended the publishing of,
several religious Tracts.
He left numerous unpublished manuscripts ; the most valuable of which
is a course of Lectures on Language delivered in Harvard College.
Dr. Pearson was twice married. His first wife was Priscilla, daughter of
President Holyoke of Harvard College. She died at Andover in 1781,
leaving one daughter, Mary Holyoke, who was married to the Rev. Ephraim
Abbot of Greenland, N. H., and deceased in 1829. In 1785, he was mar-
ried to Sarah, daughter of Henry Bromfield of Harvard, by whom he had
four children. One son, Henry Bromfield, was graduated at Harvard
College, and was for some time a member of the Philadelphia Bar, but is
now (1856) settled as a farmer at Harvard. A daughter, Margaret Brom-
field, was married to the Rev. J. H. T. Blanchard, who was a native of
Weymouth, was graduated at Harvard College in 1817, was Tutor in the
College in 1820 and 1821 ; was ordained pastor of the church in Harvard,
January 1, 1823 ; and died in 1845. He published a Sermon on the death
of John Atkins, 1835.
128 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
FROM THE REV. DANIEL WALDO.
Gkddes, May 15, 1863.
My dear Sir: I am more than willing — I consider it a privilege — to comply
with your request in recording my recollections of my venerable friend,
Dr. Pearson; for I can truly say tliat I have known few men whom I have so
much reason to remember with a grateful and affectionate respect. My acquain-
tance with him commented shortly after the opening of the Andover Seminary.
I went to Andover to attend the anniversary exhibition of the students, and while
at Dr. Pearson's house, was taken suddenly and seriously ill, so that, for some
time, m}' life was nearly despaired of. During the fortnight that I was detained
in his famil}', his kind attentions towards me were unremitted, and every thing
was done that could be for my comfort and restoration. Here commenced an
intimac}- between us, which, in subsequent j'ears, proved a source of great pleasure
and advantage to me. It was by his reconmiendation that I was cniplo3'ed a year
(1810-11) to preach at Cambridgcport; and that 1 was employed afterwards for
several years under the Society for promoting Christian Knowledge, as a mission-
ary in Rhode Island; and, at a later period, after he had removed to Harvard,
througli liis instrumentality, I was introduced to the people of 'that place, and
occupied their pulpit for a 3'ear, residing six months of the time in Dr. Pearson's
family. During my residence at Greenwich, Riiode Island, he came and paid me
a visit, which was scarcely less gratifying to all the people who had an opportu-
nity of making liis acquaintance than to myself. On one occasion when 1 visited
him at Andover, lie took me into his carriage, and w^e went on successive days to
visit three different Academies, — namely, Dummer Academ}- at Byfield, Phillips
Academy at Exeter, and the Academy in the North parish of Andover. 1 mention
these circumstances to show you that the acquaintance I had with him justilic.i
me in speaking of his character with some degree of confidence.
Everj- thing about Dr. Pear.son was in admirable keeping. He had a noble,
commanding person, which looked like a tower of strength. His face was indica-
tive at once of strong thought and strong feeling. If you had met him casually,
without knowing who he was, and he had not opened his lips, you would have
been impelled to the conclusion that he was an extraordinary man. Ilis mind was
a great store-house of knowledge, and it was not easy to introduce a subject,
especially one connected with literature or .science, on which he was not perfectly at
home, lie seemed familiar with the whole liistory of learning, and his conversa-
tion was enlivened by pertinent and endles.sly varied illustrations. His taste
was most exact; and I have imderstood from those who have been his pupils,
that, as a critic, he was well nigh without a rival. In all my intercounse with
him, I uniformly found him courteous and kind, and, I may say, a very model of
politeness; and yet I always knew that he had at his command a fearfully stern
manner: if occasion required, he could wrap himself in a thunder-cloud and
make every look a dagger; but I believe he never did this, except in wliat h;-
considered cases of flagrant delinquency. He was quick to di.scover an over-
bearing spirit in others, and had as little patience with it, I believe, as most other
j)cople. A young man was sent to the Seminary at Andover, who not only made
no profession of religion, but was said to have doubts in regard to the truth of
(Jhristianity, and withal had a severe and ungovernable temper. He became a
member of the institution by his father's particular request, in the hope that ho
might be spiritually benefitted by living in such an atmosphere, and the result
was that he was really hopefully converted, and has since made a u.seful and
somewhat distinguished minister. After he professed to hope that he had experi-
enced a change of character. Dr. Pearson undertook to examine him in regard to
his Christian evidences, and one of the first questions he asked him was, whether
he was able to keep in subjection that hitherto ungovernable temper. It was said
ELIPHALET PEARSON. 229
that the answer he received was such as to show at least that grace had not had
its perfect work.
I think I never heard Dr. Pearson preach, and I believe he preached very rarely.
I have read one or two of his published sermons, which are characterized by
vigorous and discriminating thought and a terse and forcible style. Uis prayers
in the family I used to think were unrivalled for simplicity, dignity, and reverence.
In the early part of my acquaintance with him, he was evidently a Calvinist of
about the Doddridge school; and he was a great admirer of your predecessor,
Dr. Lathrop; but before the close of his life, it was pretty evident to me that his
mind had undergone a change which placed him in much more intimate sympathy
than he had formerly been with the "liberal " school. His admiration of Buck-
minster, I remember, was intense; and I have understood that his most intimate
relations, towards the close of his life, were with clergymen of that denomination.
What the precise type of the faith in which he died, was, I am unable to say.
Dr. Pearson's intercourse was very much with the higher classes, as his
intellectual tastes and sympathies would lead you to expect. Into whatever
circle he might chance to be thrown, he was pretty likely to appear as the master
spirit. His vast treasures of knowledge were always at command, and he spoke
like one having authority, though there was nothing in his manner like ostenta-
tious display. In some points of character, I think he strongly resembled the late
Dr. Osgood of Medford; but perhaps he used the knife rather more sparingly and
discriminatively. Though his manners were worthy of the Court, he laboured
under the disadvantage of being lame during his latter years, which detracted
considerably from the natural grace of his movements.
Very truly yours,
DANIEL WALDO.
FROM THE REV. ABIEL ABBOT, D. D.
Petekborough, September 21, 1853
Dear Sir: In November, 1780, I became a member of Phillips Academy,
Andover, when I came under the care and instruction of Dr. Pearson as Principal
of the institution. During the two years and a half that I remained there, there
existed between us as intimate relations as could be expected between an instructer
and a pupil. He came to Cambridge as Professor when I was in my Junior year;
but I had little to do with him there, except that I attended the lectures which he
occasionally delivered on the English language. He still recognised me, however,
as one of his former pupils, and I remember, in one instance, to have watched with
him, while he was sulfering from the dislocation of a limb. After I left College,
my acquaintance with him continued, and once during my residence at Coventry,
he came and passed a night with me. I frequently met him in my occasional
visits to Massachusetts, and my last interview with him was after he had begun
to suffer the wreck of some of his faculties. I recollect with gratitude many testi-
monies of his good Avill.
My most vivid recollections concerning Dr. Pearson have respect to him as ;i
teacher. In that capacity, he undoubtedly took rank with the most distinguished
of his day. He was a remarkably thorough and exact scholar; and he was never
satisfied unless those who were under his care became in that respect like him. I
do not think he had originally much imagination — if he had, he certainly kept it
not only under control, but in absolute confinement; but his taste was so perfect
that no defect, even the smallest, in composition, would escape his observation.
He was remarkably particular in his instructions — the least mistake in the pro-
nunciation of Latin for instance, would as certainly arrest his attention as tho
greatest blunder in grammar that could be committed. He was a mortal enemy
*o every thing that savoured of Ijombast; he was particular not only to correct all
Vol. II. 17
130 TRIJJITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
words that were positively improper, 'out to cast out all that were redundant,
regarding: purit}' in style as one of its most important characteristics.
But for nothing was Dr. I'oarson more remarkable us an instructer, than disci-
pline. Ilis maxim was that " order is Heaven's fir.st law," in a school as well
as every where else; and order he would always maintain, no matter at what
expense. There was an air of autliority — perhaps I might say of severity, about
him, that inspired his puj)ils with a kind of awe, and rendered it difficult for
them, unless they possessed more than common hardihood, to even seem to dis-
obey him. In the early period of his connection with the Academy, he was accus-
tomed to have a record kept of all delinquencies, and to meet the delinquents on
Saturda}' P. M. and oblige them to spend a season in study, proportioned to the
character of the ollence of M'hich they had been guilty; but this regulation had
ceased before I became a member of tlie institution. He sometimes imdoubtedl}*
used ilis talent at sarcasm towards the students with undue freedom; and I
remember to have heard of his saj'ing, in the later period of his life, " I have been
a teacher of boj-s so long that it has spoiled my temper." Whenever he had
occasion to be ab.^ent from the school for a short time, he would direct the monitor
to note every thing disorderlj'', and report it to him on his return. On one cuch
occasion, one of the boys, in the exercise of a little roguery, got out of his place
and went behind the Preceptor's desk. Dr. Pearson, on his return, received the
monitor's report concerning the young delinquent, and immediately called him to
an account, when something like the following conference ensued — " Jack, have
you been out of your place.^" " Yes, Sir." " What did you do when you
got out of it .'" " i made up l;xces, and made signs to the boys," &c. " Monitor,
did Jack do all this ?" " I did not see him. Sir." " I forgive you. Jack, because
you have told me the truth. I love an open mind. I shall not punish you, but
you must not do the same thing again." He had the highest sense of the value
of trutli, and he lost no opportunity for endeavouring to imbue the minds of his
pupils witli it. I recollect that he once caught a boy in a fixlsehood; and, as a
punishment, Ik; forbade the boys who boarded with him, and I believe also the
whole school, believing an}' thing he should say for a week — thus marking him as
a sort of outlaw.
Notwithstanding Dr. Pearson's constitutional or acquired severity, there was still
a vein of tender feeling which sometimes discovered itself when it was least expected.
I remember an illustration of this that was given me by the late Judge Strong.
He said that, on one occa.sion, Avhen he was in College, while Dr. Pearson was
delivering one of his lectures on the English language, he happened to hold his
head down, v.liich the Doctor supposed was an indication of his lack of interest in
what he was saying. At the clo.se of the lecture, when the other students retired,
the Professor requested him to remain; and tliough he was utterly misuspicious
of the cau.=.c, he took for granted that it was for some real or supposed delinquency,
and began to nerve himself for at least some strong expression of disapprobation.
But, instead of severity, there was the utmost gentleness. Said Dr. Pearson, " I
observed witli great pain that you seemed to be indifferent to my lecture. I
thought I was saying -something that was worth your attention, but yon held your
head down as if jou thought otherwi.se," and at that moment Judge Strong said
that he observed there was a tear standing in his eye. He was himself deeply
affected by the circumstance, and manj^ years after, on meeting Dr. Pearson, he
reminded him of it, and expressed to him the warmest gratitude for having dealt
with him m so much kindness.
I cannot say much of Dr. Pearson as. a preacher; for I think T never heard him
but once, and that Avas during my residence at Andover as a pupil in the Academy.
His manner, as T remember it, was not particularly impassioned, while yet it was
not wanting in earnestness. His utterance was clear, his emphasis remarkably
ELIPHALET PEARSON. 131
good, and his voice was pitched on a bass key. I think he had little or no
gesture.
As to Dr. Pearson's religious opinions, I always suppo.sed that he was what in
that day was called a moderate Calvinist — certainly he was ver}^ strongly opposed
to Hopkinsianism. It has been said, and perhaps not without some reason, that,
towards the close of life, he approached near to Unitarianisni. I preached for his
son-in-law at Harvard not long before his death, and called upon him, but his
power of speech had so far failed that it was difficult for him to utter a sentence,
or for me to understand what he attempted to say. I caught something, however,
concerning the word *pofc»j':rov — (person,) from which I inferred that the doctrine
of the Trinity occupied his thoughts, and that he probably was not reposing fully
in his former convictions.
Dr. Pearson took a warm interest in the great conflict that gave us our inde-
pendence. He was an intimate friend of Governor Samuel Phillips, who was
a very zealous Whig of '76; and they co-operated in aid of the cause of their
country. As there was a great lack of powder in the countrj', Mr. Phillips built
a powder mill, and Mr. Pearson had scientific knowledge enough to shoM^ how it
was to be made. I believe they rendered in this way an important service.
Dr. Pearson always appeared tome like a devout man, who took a deep interest
in promoting the cause of Christianity and the best interests of his fellow-men.
I well remember that he used to give excellent counsels to his pupils, and especially
to urge upon them the duty of secret prayer. His agency in founding the Andover
Seminary is too much a matter of history to need to be adverted to.
Faithfully yours,
ABIEL ABBOT.
WILLIAM ROBINSON *
1776—1825.
The earliest ancestor of the family in this country was William Robinson
of Dorchester, Mass., who became a member of the Rev. Richard Mather's
church in 1636 or 1637 ; but was not one of the original members. His
grandson, John Robinson, was born in Dorchester, in March, 1071 ; was
graduated at Harvard College in 1695 ; being the earliest graduate of the
name in this country. He preached, for a short time, as a missionary in
Pennsylvania. In September, 1700, he received a call to settle as pastor
of the church in Duxbury, where he was ordained, November 18, 1702. He
was dismissed in 1738, and removed to Lebanon, Conn., where he had two
daughters married, — one of them to Jonathan Trumbull, afterwards Gov-
ernor of the State. He died November 14, 1745, aged seventy-four years.
He was a man of strong powers of mind, eccentric in character, impctuout;,
and not remarkably polished in his mode of expression.
The subject of this notice was the grandson of John Robinson above
mentioned, and the second son of Ichabod Robinson, who succeeded to his
father's homestead in Lebanon, and who was married first to Mary Hyde,
and afterwards to Lydia Brown. He was born at Lebanon, August 15,
1754, — a child of his father's second marriage. His mother was a woman
• MS. from Rev. Dr. E. Robinson.
1^2 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
of strong uiiud aud of earnest and energetic character. His fathor was not
an early riser; but his mother was always up before daylight, and sho
always took hiiu up when she rose herself ; and thus he acquired the habit
of early rising which he continued with great advantage through life.
He was fitted for College in the celebrated school of Master Tisdale in
Lebanon; entered the Sophomore class in Yale College in 1770; and was
graduated in 1773. Though the class was distinguished for an unusually
large number of excellent scholars, most of whom occupied positions of
influence and honour in after life, Mr. llobinson was reckoned among the very
first in respect to both talents aud scholarship.
In the autumn of 1775, he returned to New Haven to prosecute his theo-
logical studios. At that period, Timothy Dwight and Joseph Buckminster
were Tutors, and were at the same time preparing for the ministry. Mr.
Robinson stood in close relations of friendship with them, which continued
through life. But under whose guidance they pursued their studios cannot
now be ascertained.
Mr. Robinson united with the church in Yale College, May 5, 1776. On
this occasion he wrote a solemn private covenant, in which he consecrated
himself to the service of God and Jesus Christ, and expressed an earnest
desire that he might be made instrumental in promoting the interests of
God's heritage. He was licensed to preach, shortly after, (May 29th,) at
"Walliugford, by the New Haven Association ; and preached his first sermon
on the 1st of September following, in the parish of Goshen, Lebanon.
During the ensuing two years, he made Lebanon his home, and was occu-
pied in study, in writing sermons, and in preaching in different towns in
Connecticut and Massachusetts. In November, 1777, he was applied to by
the church at Northampton to preach several Sabbaths with reference to a
settlement; but he declined from a conviction that he was too young and
inexperienced in the duties of the ministry to assume a charge involving so
much responsibility.
In the summer of 1778, Mr. llobinson was chosen to a Tutorship in Yale
College, and entered on its duties shortly after. He held this ofiicc one
year ; and in the mean time preached in the towns adjacent to New Haven,
and especially in Southington. In December, 1778, he was invited to settle
at Southington, and he ultimately accepted the call, though he was not
ordained until the loth of June, 1780. The sermon on the occasion was
preached by President Stiles; in respect to which the preacher has left a
record that he "preached about two hours: that they went in at eleven
o'clock and finished at two."
When Mr. llobinson was settled, his parish was small and feeble, and the
salary which they gave him was scarcely adequate to the support of a family.
This led him to engage in agricultural pursuits ; and ultimately to a much
greater extent than probably he at first intended ; though it is understood
that he always made these subordinate to his professional engagements, —
devoting to the latter the earliest and best hours of each day.
About the beginning of this century, some dissatisfaction arose in his
parish on the alleged ground that he devoted too much time to his farm and
too little to his flock. In December, 1801, the matter was brought up in a
parish meeting, and a committee appointed to confer with Mr. Robinson in
relation to it. He peremptorily denied the charge that was thus brought
against him, and expressed a willingness to give up all his worldly business,
WILLIAM ROBINSON. 13.^
if the parisli would pay him a salary sufficient for the support of his family,
or, if they preferred it, he would resign his pastoral charge. Not being pre-
pared to adopt either side of the alternative, the matter was dropped.
In January, 1818, as the infirmities of age began to gather upon him, he
addressed letters to both the parish and the church, requesting that he
might be provided with a Colleague or be dismissed from his charge. The
church acceded unanimously to his request for a Colleague ; but the parish
declined. Two years and a haJf later, in September, 1820, he renewed
the application ; when the parish, after some delay, decided to take measures
for his dismission ; and he was accordingly dismissed by an ecclesiastical
council, with strong expressions of regret, on the 24th of April, 1821, after
a ministry of forty-one years and two months.
Mr. Robinson's ministry seems to have been, by no means, an unfruitful
one. In the year immediately succeeding his ordination, thirty-eight were
added to the church; in 1799, twenty-two ; in 1815, twenty-eight. There
was an average addition of eight or ten a year, during his whole ministry.
Dr. Stiles in his diary, (1787,) mentions Mr. Robinson as "one of the
supporters of the New Divinity."
After his dismission, Mr. Robinson continued to reside on his homestead
till the close of his life. He gave to his successor in the ministry, the Rev.
D. L. Ogden, a cordial welcome, always treated him with the greatest kind-
ness, and did his utmost to sustain and elevate him in the regards of his
people. His infirmities continued to increase, and ultimately assumed the
form of dropsy, especially in his lower limbs and feet. In his last days, he
lay most of the time in a lethargy ; but in his brief intervals of conscious-
ness, he expressed a strong and joyful confidence in the truths which he
had preached, as the only foundation of his hope. He died on his birth day.
August 15, 1825, aged seventy-one years.
Mr. Robinson was married, about a month after his ordination, to Naomi
Wolcott of East Windsor, to whom he had been engaged for some time.
She died of small pox, under very aggravated circumstances, in April 1782,
having had one child only, who died before her. In September, 1783, he was
again married to Sophia Mosely of Westfield, Mass.; who died of a quick
consumption in December, 1784. She left a son, William, who was gradu-
ated with honour at Yale College in 1804, but died of consumption in
November of the same year, aged tw^enty years. He was married a third
time, in August, 1787, to Anne Mills of Simsbury, (>onn. She died in
July, 1789, of measles, soon after the birth of a child, which also died.
She left a daughter who was married, and died in November, 1849. In
August, 1790, he was married to his fourth wife, Elizabeth Norton of
Farmington, who was a sister of the Rev. A. S. Norton. D. D., of Clinton,
N. Y,, and a niece of the Rev. Cyprian Strong, D. D., of Chatham. She
died in December, 1824, about eight months before her husband. They had
six children, one of whom is the Rev. Dr. Edward Robinson, well known
as one of the most distinguished Oriental scholars of the age.
FROM THE REV. NOAH PORTER, D. D.
Farmington, Conn., September 20, 1854.
Dear Sir: Having had no personal acquaintance with the Rev. Mr. Robinson till
he was considerably advanced in life, and never having been connected with him in
Association or other stated meeting of ministers, I had not the best opportunity
134 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
of marking his distinguishing traits of cliaracter; and such as I did mark, from
occasionally hearing him proach in my early youth, and from the intercourse I
had with him after my settlement in the ministry, have in some degree faded
from memory in the progress of the thirty years which have passed away since
his death. Some things, however, were too deeply impressed upon me to be
effaced — such were his person and bearing, — tall, full, erect, well bect)niing one of
" nature's noblemen," which he truly was, in mind and moral dignity, as well as
in form and mien. He was a man of strength, in body, in intellect, in feeling.
He was also a man of great urbanity, kind, social, free, and open-hearted.
He had also great variety and comprehensiveness of knowledge, particularly in
matters of common concern. I do not know that he excelled many others of his
profession in science and literature; although a mind so active and penetrating
could not have left him behind the clergymen of his connection in these respects;
but I refer more particularly to his knowledge of the times and passing events in
their political and economical, as well as moral and religious, bearing; and from
his habits of reading and reflection on these subjects, his conversation with men
of all classes was remarkably interesting, vivacious, and instructive.
His theology was Hopkinsian; and his preaching, more than that of any other
minister in this vicinity, was imbued with the distinguishing doctrines of that
system. He believed not only, in common with other Calvinists, in the universal
providence of God and his eternal and sovereign purposes, in respect to all events,
but in his direct eflBciency in the production of whatever comes to pass : and
what he believed on these great and awful subjects, he preached abundantly and
with no disguise or faltering. Yet he preached on these subjects, as on others,
practically, and with uncommon tenderness, often with tears, and sometimes
■with emotion that, for the moment, prevented utterance.
His sermons were remarkably biblical. So far as they were written, they
seem to have been merely outlines of the current of his thoughts, together with
copious references to passages of Scripture for illustration and proof; to which,
in preaching, he turned with great readiness and facilitj'', explaining and urging
them, and reasoning from them with much freedom and power.
From this sketch of his character and habits it might naturally be inferred that
he was of an independent mind. No one who was at all acquainted with him,
could fail to be impressed with this. The following anecdote illustrative of it,
has been preserved, although I cannot tell on Avhat authority. While he was
preaching at Southington as a candidate for the ministry, — being at that time a
Tutor in Yale College, — he returned there one Monday morning after preaching
on the Sabbath, when one of his fellow Tutors said to him, — " So, you are about
to be settled over the people at Southington." "Yes," he replied, "if I am
settled there, I shall be settled over, and not under them." His ministry of more
than forty years was correspondent to this remark, and yet was not, in any
degree, despotic or overbearing. He had his own opinions in Theology, in
politics, and in matters pertaining to his social relations and domestic economy;
and he fearlessly spoke and acted according to them. As a Calvinist, his
preaching sometimes awakened opposition, but " he believed and therefore
spoke." As a Federalist of the "Washington school, his political was to many not
less offensive than his religious creed; and he was no less open and decided in
propounding and advocating the former than the latter.
As a man, he regarded it a primary duty to provide for his own; and
hig engagement in secular business for this purpose, when his salary was
found incompetent, drew upon him censure; but believing that in this, as well as
in his more appropriate work, he was serving his generation }>y the will of God,
he would not be diverted. It would have been strange if so inflexible a mind was
never inflexibly, even though unconsciously, in the wrong. His Cliristian friends
in general lamented that a man so well fitted to impress himself upon his age,
WILLIAM ROBINSON. 135
Buffered himself to be diverted by secuLir engagements, from the high attain-
ments and the extensive usefulness of which he was so remarkably capable.
"Whatever necessitj' there may have been for tiiis at the first, his ^,erseverance in
it, after God gave him abundance, natural tliough it Avas, and in similar cases
oommon, had not the same plea in its vindication. But however he may have
erred, he enjoyed, to the last, the confidence and esteem of the people which he
so long served, and of the church wherever he was known. When the time came
for him to resign his pastoral charge, he quietly submitted to the decision; and
when he died, the conviction of the community around him was, that a great
man, and a good, had fallen.
I am. Sir, with much respect and esteem, yours trul}*,
NOAH PORTER.
FROM THE REV. HEMAN HUMPHREY, D. D.
PiTTSFiELD, December 7, 1854.
Dear Sir: Though I cannot say that my acquaintance with the Rev. Mr.
Robinson was very intimate, 3ret it was perhaps sufficiently so to justify me in
attempting a brief estimate of his talents and preaching. I had frequent oppor-
tunities of hearing him in the pulpit of my pastor. Rev. Jonathan 3Iiller of the
North Parish of Bristol, then called West Britain, now Burlington. My personal
acquaintance with him commenced when I was in Yale C6llege. As I passed
through Southington in going to and from New Haven, I generally called at his
house, and was hospitably entertained by him and his estimable family; and I
'met him from time to time, afterwards, till near the close of his life.
Mr. Robinson's personal appearance was uncommonly imposing. He was tall
and muscular, and his frame every way indicated great strength, as well as
remarkable symmetry. He had a noble forehead, rather a light complexion, hair
rather sandy than dark, and his face, as I remember him, was altogether highly
intellectual. When he entered the pulpit, there was something in his appearance,
which could hardly fail to awaken high expectations in regard to what v.-e were to
hear from his lips. He was dignified in all his attitudes, solemn, and perfectly
self-possessed. He spoke with great deliberation; his articulation was distinct,
his voice strong, and altogether a good one for a public speaker. . He had but
little gesture in the pulpit, and ordinarily manifested but little emotion; but
sometimes he was deeply moved, and as those who heard him oftener say, even to
tears. His sermons were not generally written out; but they were so thoroughly
premeditated, as never to betray any confusion or hesitancy, either of thought or
expression. He usually preached with a small Bible in his hand, and in quoting
from it, would sometimes turn to his proof-texts and read them, when they did
not recur instantly to his memorj^. He had a i-emarkably clear and logical mind.
He could not preach without a subject. He must have some important truth to
prove or illustrate; and as he went on step by step, like a strong man, as he was,
he convinced his audience, that whether they agreed with him on all points or
not, it would not be safe to encounter him in argument.
Mr. Robinson was eminently a doctrinal preacher. His creed was decidedly
Calvuiistic; more of the Hopkinsian type, perhaps, than any other. His sermons
were highly intellectual, and so instructive and convincing, that if his stated
hearers did not become rooted and grounded in the truth, it must have been their
own fault. There Avas nothing, perhaps, in his preaching, which impressed you
more, than the idea of reserved strength. You could not listen to him attentively,
without feeling that what he said cost him but little effort; and that he was
capable of rising to a point which he by no means ordinarily reached.
Mr. Robinson was the minister of a respectable country parish; and had no
ambition, 1 believe, to mingle much with the world as it was, and as it is. Ho
J^36 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
came upon the stage about the same time with the late President D wight; and I
have heard it said that he was regarded by his contemporaries as not at all
inferior t© him in intellectual power and promise. And had circumstances
called his powers into equally vigorous exercise, and opened before him an equally
wide field, I see not why he might not have had an equally brilliant career.
I am, dear Sir, truly yours,
H. HUMPHREY.
FROM THE REV. E. C. JONES.
SouTHiNGTON, Octobcr 25, 1854.
Dear Sir : The traces of the Rev. Mr. Robinson's influence upon this town are
yet plainly discernible, although upwards of thirty-four years have elapsed since
he closed his pubhc labours. During the early part of my residence here, which
commenced about seventeen years ago, his sayings and doings were very often
quoted with great deference by the older class of people; nor is it uncommon to
hear them repeated at this day by those who have received them by tradition
from their fathers. He evidently impressed the minds of his generation with the
conviction that he was a man of much wisdom, both in regard to secular and
rehgious interests; and his observations and opinions seem to have been held in
high veneration. From much that I have heard concerning him I have been led
to infer, that he was remarkably keen and discriminating in his judgment of
human character and actions; and that men were made to feel in his presence
that he knew them well. The idea of his being eminently sagacious and discreet,
is one of the first and last that has held possession of my mind in regard to
him.
My impression of the general influence of his ministry is, that it was rather
fitted, like that, perhaps, of most able preachers of his day, for laying "the
foundations of many generations,-' than for producing immediate visible results;
and I have long supposed, and often said, that the subsequent growth and pros-
perity of this church were probably based, in a good measure, upon the sound
doctrinal knowledge in which he had established the minds of the people in his
day. The high views which he inculcated of the sovereign holiness and grace of
God, prepared their hearts to bow low before the mercy-seat, when the " time of
refreshing came from the presence of the Lord;" and prompted them to enjoin
upon their children the same sentiments which they had themselves imbibed.
" And herein is that sa3'ing true, one soweth, and another reapcth." This view
of the case would probably be better appreciated by the older than the younger
portion of the community; and by his colleagues, and successors in the ministry,
than by ordinary laymen. I have often heard him spoken of in clerical circles as
a sound and able Divine, and as a man of great practical discernment and wis-
dom.
On the whole, estimating him in connection with the circumstances and customs
of his times, he appears to me to have been one of the strong pillars of the church,
and to have moulded the opinions and character of society after a true pattern,
both in respect to the great doctrines of revelation, and the well-ordering of public
institutions and private affairs of life.
With great respect, yours very truly,
E. C. JONES.
I had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Robinson on two different occasions —
the first was in 1811, when I was on my way to enter College, accompanied
by the minister of my native place. Of course I had not much conversa-
tion with him then, as I was a mere boy ; but T well remember his noble air
and bearing, and the whole-souled hospitality which he proffered to us.
"WILLIAM ROBINSON. 237
My second interview with him was after I had entered the ministry, when I
saw him to better advantage and was more capable of appreciating his fine
intellectual and moral qualities. Though I have forgotten not only what
he said, but most of the topics on which he conversed, the impression of
intellectual greatness which he made upon me still remains. I remember
also asking a favour of him which he granted cheerfully and with the best
grace. So far as my observation of him went, it was fully in accordance
with the statements contained in the preceding letters.
JOSEPH ECKLEY, D. D.=^
1776—1811.
Joseph Eckley was born in the city of London, October 11, (0. S.,)
1750. His father was Thomas Eckley, a respectable and well educated
man, who migrated with his family to this country, and settled at Morris-
town, N. J., about the year 1767. The son, being about seventeen years
of age, when he left England, had nearly completed his course preparatory
to entering College ; and, accordingly, soon after his arrival here, his father
sent him to the College of New Jersey, then under the Presidency of Dr.
Witherspoon. Here he commenced Bachelor of Arts in the year 1772.
About the time of his graduation, he met with a most severe affliction in
the sudden death of his mother, who was killed in consequence of being
precipitated from a carriage. I have seen a letter written by his father, a
year after, to an English lady then in this country, containing the most
touching allusion to his bereavement, and showing that time had done little,
even then, to assuage his grief.
Mr. Eckley remained at Princeton after he graduated, and prosecuted his
theological studies, probably under the direction of Dr. Witherspoon, though
he was also for some time a student under Dr. Bellamy, He was licensed
to preach on the 7th of May, 1776, by the Presbytery of New York ; and,
shortly after, spent a few Sabbaths, as a supply, in Albany. His first
appearance in the pulpit was such as to give great satisfaction to his friends.
He travelled into New England, and the Old South Congregation, Boston,
being now re-collected, after the dispersion occasioned by the Revolution,
invited him to preach to them with reference to a settlement. The result
was, that on the 9th of September, 1778, he was chosen to be their pastor,
as successor to the Rev. John Hunt ; and, shortly after, he signified his
acceptance of the call.
The edifice occupied by the Old South Church, as a place of worship,
being at that time in a state of dilapidation, from the outrages of the British
troops, he was ordained in the edifice now known as the "Stone Chapel,"
and before the Revolution as " King's Chapel." This solemnity was per-
formed on the 27th of October, 1779. Their own place of worship was not
occupied till March 2, 1783.
* Lathrop's Fun. Serm. — Wisner's Hist. Disc.
Vol. II. 18
138 TIUMTARIAN COXCKECATIONAL-
The College fit wliioli Mr. Etkloy graduated, conferred on biin the degree
of Doctor of Divinity, after ho liad been t^ettled in the ministry about fifteen
years.
Though Dr. lOckley had a delicate constitution, and never enjoyed very
vigorous healtli, he performed his oilkial duties with but little assistance,
until 1808, when he was jirovidcd with a colleague in the llev. Joshua
Huntington.
Dr. Eckley died on the 30th of April, l8ll, in the sixty-first year of his
age. His death was occasioned b)' the repetition of a violent attack of
disease, which had tlireatcned his life at New York, a little less than two
years l)efore. His funeral sermon was preached by the Kev. Dr. Lathrop
from Kev. xiv, 13, and was published. A sermon in reference to his death
was preached the next Sabbath by Mr. Buckminster, in the IJrattle Street
Church, a part of which is published in the volume containing the Lives of
the Duckuiinsters, by Mrs. Lee.
During the first twenty-four years of Dr. Ecklcy's ministry, he admitted
to the church, on an average, only about five persons a year ; but in 1803
and 1804, religion was, to some extent, revived among his people, and a
weekly meeting established from which were experienced very happy results.
In this state of things Dr. Eckley manifested the deepest interest, and did
every thing in his power to promote it. In these efforts he seems to have
been more particularly associated with his two Baptist brethren, Doctors
Stillmau and Baldwin.
The following is a list of Dr. Eckley's publications : — Divine glory
brought to view in the condemnation of the ungodly : By a friend of truth,
1782. A Sermon at the installation of the Hcv. Israel Evans* at Concord,
1789. Artillei'y Election Sermon, 179-. A Discourse on the annual
Tlianksgiving, 1798. A Sermon before the Boston Female Asylum, 1802.
A Discourse before the Society for propagating the Gospel, 1805. Dudleian
Lecture at Harvard University, 1800. A Sermon at the installation of the
Rev. Horace Holley, Boston, 1809.
FROM THE REV. CHARLES LOWELL, D. D.
Cambridqe, December 10, 1853
Dear Sir: I enjoyed an affectionate friendship with Dr. Eckley, so far as the
disparity in our years would permit. lie received me, wlien I came into the
ministry, with p;rcat kindness, and welcomed me always to his house and study
with warm cordiality. Indeed it was a very prominent feature of his character
that he was given to liospitality.
When I was .about to be ordained, I prepared a statement of my theological
views, somewliat general, uliicli I showed to my intimate friends, Ciianning and
• IsnAEL Evans was a native of Ppnnsylvania, and was graduated at Princeton in 1772.
His father and grandfather were settled ministers in this country, and his great-grandfather was
a minister in Wales. He was ordained at I'hiladelidiia in 1771), as Chaplain iu the American
army. From 1777 till the close of the war, he wa.-< Clniiilain to the New Hampshire lirigade;
and b}' means of this connection he was introduced to tlie cliurch in Coneonl, of which he was
ordained pastor on tiie 1st of .July, 178!'. lie resigned his pastoral charge in .July, 1797, but
continued ever after to reside in Concord. He died on the !tth of March, 1807, in the sixtieth
year of his age. He published an Oration delivered at Hackensack at the interment of Briga-
dier Oencral Knoch Poor. 1780; a Sermon delivered near York, Virginia, on the memorable
occasion of the surrender of the liritish army to the allied forces of Ameriea and I'rnncc, 1781 :
a Sermon delivered in New York, on the day set apart by Congress aa a day of public Thanki-
giving for the blessings of independence, liberty and peace, 1783: a Sermon to the oflficers ftp'*
euldicrs of the Western army, after their return from an expedition against the live Nations <n
native Indians; New Hampshire Election Sermon, 1791.
JOSEPH ECKLEY. 139
Buckminster, and I am quite confidontj to my friend Dr. Eckley, also. At any
rate, I had frequent and affectionate intercourse with Dr. E. previous to my ordi-
nation. In the council which assembled to ordain me, objections were raised
against my making any statement of my viev.'s. Dr. Eckley and Mr. Channing
both were in favour of my doing it. Both declared themselves entirely satisfied
with the candidate, and ready, so far as they were concerned, to proceed to ordi-
nation; but they thought the practice of reading a statement was a proper one,
and ought not, on any such occasion, to be dispensed with. They said they felt
at greater liberty to urge it, as they had no doubts respecting the candidate for
ordination. Among those who opposed the giving in of a statement, and who also
declared themselves satisfied, I remember were Dr. Kirkland and Mr. Buck-
minster. They thought the practice an improper one.
Dr. Eckley 's temperament was an ardent one. I suspect he even sometimes
thought that " he did well to be angry;" though his nature was most kind. I
never witnessed his indignation at any thing but bigots and bigotry; and then it
was expressed emphatically. I do not remember his ever talking on points of
theological controversy, — not even on the subject of the Trinity; though that was
a subject which, in his daj^ was but little discussed among us. His relations were
certainly more intimate with the "liberal partj^ " as they were termed, than with
the Calvinistic party. It was not so with his young colleague, Mr. Huntington,
with whom I enjoyed pleasant personal and ministerial intercourse during his life;
but he was most kind, gentlemanly, and Christian-like, in his treatment of those
from whom he differed in sentiment.
The following extract of a letter which Dr. Eckley addressed to one of the
Worcesters, not long before his own death, shows that he did not then accept the
common view of the doctrine of the Trinity: — " My plan respecting the Son of
God was ver}' similar to what your brother (Dr. Noah Worcester) has now
adopted. The common plan of three self-existent persons, forming one essence,
or infinite being, and one of these persons being united to a man, but not in the
least humbling himself or suffering, leads to and ends in Sociuianism; and, though
it claims the form of orthodox}^ it is a shadow without a substance; it eludes
inspection; and I sometimes say to those who are strenuous for this doctrine,
that they take away my Lord, and I know not whore they place Him. The
orthodoxy, so called, of Watcrland, is as repugnant to my reason and views of
religion, as the heterodoxy of Lardner; and 1 am at a loss to see that any solid
satisfaction for a person who wishes to find salvation through the death of the Son
of God, can be found in either."- " I seek for a plan which exalts the personal
character of the Son of God in the highest possible degree." Dr. Eckley believed
that the Son of God is derived from the Father, having a real Divine nature, but
not self-existent and independent.
As it regards Dr Eckley's person, he was of about the medium stature and
size. Ilis countenance was a pleasing one, though his features were not remarka-
bly delicate. Ilis hair Avas turned back on his forehead, over the head to the neck,
and there, if I remember right, arranged in what were called " cannon curls,"
(the hair twisted around wire,) which were not unusual M'ith the clergy of that
day. lie was neither loquacious, nor taciturn, but joined freely in conversation.
At the meetings of the Association he did his full part, and was always cheerful
and pleasant.
As a preacher, Dr. Eckley's standing in the community may be estimated some-
what by the fact that he was called to preach on several of the most important
public occasions. T cannot say, however, that I think that his preaching was
generally of the plain practical cast; for he was inclined to abstrnotion, and .some-
times was absolutely " in nubibus." His voice was not musical, and his accent
was slightly foreign. The pulpit in the Old South Church, was a " tub pulpit;"
and it was exchanged for a larger one, constructed partly of mahogany and partly
]40 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
of some other material. A ■wag in the parish said that Dr. Eckley had requested
that the pulpit might be mognilicd, — placing a prolonged accent upon the first
syllable, and the parish substituted one not wiioUy mahogany, but mahogani-
fied it.
In his general bearing in society, it is scarcely needful that I should add that
Dr. Eckley Avas always correct and dignified, and that he enjoyed in an unusual
degree the confidence and good M'ill of the whole community. There are those
still living, (and I am one of them,) wlio, after the lapse of more than forty years,
still cherish his memory with afifectionate and grateful respect.
Affectionately yours,
CHARLES LOWELL.
ASA BURTON, D. D *
1777—1836.
Asa Burton was born at Stonington, Conn., August 25, 1752. He was
a son of Jacob and Rachel Burton, being the sixth child in a family of
thirteen. While he was yet in his infancy, his parents removed to the North
parish in Preston, where several of his earlier years were passed, under the
ministry of the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Levi Hart. When he was about
fourteen, his father removed again to Norwich, Vt., and purchased a large
tract of land, upon whicli the son, for the next six years, was occupied in
the laborious work of clearing up the forest in preparation for cultivating the
soil. His health suffered from excessive labour, and, at the age of twenty,
there was much reason to fear that his constitution had been effectually and
irrecoverably undermined.
It was but a short time previous to this that the foundation of Dartmouth
College had been laid by Dr. Whcelock ; and young Burton is said to have
been one of a few wlio first engaged in cutting away the forest trees from
the spot on which the College edifices now stand. For the want of accom-
modations at Hanover, the Trustees of the College, for two or three years,
were accustomed to hold their meetings at his fiither's house, — the Connecti-
cut river only intervening between Norwich and Hanover ; and the circum-
stance of his being thereby brought in contact with educated men, seems to
have given to his mind its first impulse in favour of a collegiate education.
Having, with some difficulty, gained the consent of his father to such a
course, he commenced his preparation for College, when he was a little past
twenty, and actually became a member of the infant institution at Hanover,
on the day that completed his twenty-first year. Joel Barlow was associated
with him in his preparatory course, and is said to have been, at the time,
" under serious impressions."
Scarcely had he entered College before he was subjected to great embar-
rassment, as well as deep affliction, by an uncommon desolation occasioned
by malignant disease in his father's family. His mother, two sisters, and a
brother on whom his father chiefly relied in carrying on his business, were
swept away within the compass of a few weeks. He was himself alfo
• Amer. Quart. Reg., X.
ASA BURTON. 141
severely ill, eo that for about two months, he was obliged to intermit his
studies altogether. And when he had so far recovered as to be able to
return to them, his father stated to him his conviction that it would be
impossible for him to proceed in his business without his aid, and reluctantly
proposed that he should leave College and return to his place on tlie farm.
The son, in the exercise of a truly filial and magnanimous spirit, acceded to
the proposal ; but when the father called upon the President to procm-e for
him his dismission, he was finally persuaded to withdraw his re(iuest and
allow his son to return to College.
During his collegiate course, he was not a little straitened in respect to
his pecuniary means ; but there was no amount of self-denial to which he
would not cheerfully submit for the sake of gaining so desirable an object.
He pursued his studies with great ardour, and evinced an unwillingness to
rest upon the surface of any thing. He especially excelled in natural, moral,
and mental philosophy, and was remarkable, if not for the most graceful,
yet for an uncommonly simple and lucid, style of writing. As the war
of the Revolution was in progress, during nearly the whole of his college
life, there was much of apprehension and disquietude felt throughout that
whole region, and he was often on guard at night, with the constant expecta-
tion of an attack from hostile Indians and from tories of the neighbouring
Province. He was graduated in 1777 : owing to the peculiar state of the
times, the usual public exhibition was dispensed with, and the degrees con-
ferred at an earlier period than usual.
From early childhood he was occasionally the subject of religious impres-
sions ; but it was not till about the time of commencing his preparation
for College, that his attention became decidedly and permanently directed to
his higher interests. For several months, his mind was deeply exercised in
respect to his spiritual condition ; and he had an awful sense of his depravity
and ill desert ; but there were seasons when he found himself the subject
of an unwonted calmness and joy. As he had little knowledge of Divine
truth, and had never conversed with a person in a state of religious anxiety,
he was quite incapable of forming a correct estimate of his own spiritual
exercises ; though it never occurred to him that his occasional joyful feelings,
which, for the most part, were very transient, were an indication of his
having actually experienced a saving change. During the illness which
immediately succeeded his admission to College, his anxiety for himself was
intense ; but, on recovering from it, — though he regarded himself not only a
stranger to religion, but comparatively indifi"erent to it, yet he felt a deep
and unaccustomed interest for the salvation of others. His feelings
prompted him to warn the wicked of his evil way, and to endeavour to save
souls from death ; and he wished that he were a Christian and a minister,
as this would then be appropriate to his character and his office ; but it
seemed to him both indecorous and impertinent that he should attempt to
urge upon the regards of others that of which he had himself no practical
knowledge. His interest in the general subject increased, till, at length,
President Wheelock, to whom he was accustomed to unbosom himself with
an almost filial confidence, remarked to him, on one occasion, that it was
possible that some persons might be true Christians without even suspecting
it. When he came to examine himself in the light of this remark, and to
compare his experience with the Divine testimony, he began to think that
possibly a principle of religion had been implanted in his heart ; and from
142 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
that time he imlulgcd tlie hope that he was a new creature in Christ Jesus.
The period of his college life was favourable to the growth of his Christian
character, as it witnessed to no less than three revivals, of which nearly
half of the members of College were reckoned as subjects.
After he was graduated, he still continued at the College with one of his
classmates by the name of Daniel Foster,* reading Theology with reference
to entering the ministry ; though tliey seem to have had little or no theological
instruction. The account of his being licensed to preach, as given by himscdf,
shows that there has been at least some advance in the amount of iutellectual
qualifi-'ation requisite for the ministry, since that day. His statement is as
follows : — " In August or September 1777, the Grafton Presbytery convened
at the liouse of President Wheelock, and sent for me and Foster to come
where they were sitting. We went. They asked us several (juestions in
Divinity, to give us directions how to proceed in our studies, as they said,
ind dismissed us. We returned to our room, but were soon recalled, when
we were each of us, to our great surprise, presented with a license to preach
the Gospel." His first sermon was preached at Norwich, and the subject
of it was "Justification by faith." Shortly after this, he put liimself under
the instruction of the Rev. Dr. Hart of Preston, with whom he remained
for three months, preaching occasionally in the neighbouring parishes, as
there was opportunity. During this period, he attended the meeting of the
Association of ministers to which Dr. Hart belonged, and submitted one of
his sermons for the criticisms of the members; and the judgments which
they passed upon it were so severe, that he became well nigh discouraged
from ever attempting to write another sermon; and, but for the encouraging
words spoken to him by Dr. Hart, he thought he might have abandoned the
ministry altogether.
In January, 1778, he visited Topsfield, Mass., and supplied the congre-
gation there several months ; but he would not consent to be considered a
candidate for settlement. He then preached for some time at W^indsor, and
afterwards at Royalton, in Vermont, and in the latter place received an
invitation to settle, which, however, he declined. As he was on the eve of
making a journey to Connecticut, he was invited to preach a Sabbath or
two at Thctford ; and his acceptance of the invitation resulted in a unani-
mous call from the church and society to become their pastor. Though his
impressions of the character of the people would seem to have been by no moans
favourable, he thought that this very circumstance might render the field of
usefulness greater, and his obligation to occupy it the more imperative ;
and hence he accepted their invitation, and was ordained on the 19th of
January, 1779.
Notwithstanding the field of labour into which he was now introduced,
gave promise of any thing else than comfort to a minister, he resolved to
keep on labouring there till he should witness the opening of a brighter day.
• Daniel Fosteu was the son of the Rev. Isnac Foster, who was not graduated at College;
was settled as pastor of tlie church in West Stafford, Conn., in 1764; and died in 1807. He
(the son) was born in what is now Warren, Mass., in 1751 ; was graduated at Dartmouth Col-
lege in 1777; was ordained pastor of the church in New Braintree, Mass., Octobei 20, 1778;
and died September 4, 1795, aged forty-four. He published a Sermon at the ordination of
Joshua Crosby; [who w-as ordained pastor of the church in Enfield, Mass., December 2, 1789;
received the Honorary degree of Master of Arts from Drown University in I7S*2; and died in
]8.''8;] Massachusetts F.lection Sermon, IT'.'O. Air. Foster was settled as colleague pastor with
tho Kcv. Benjamin Rnggles — [who was born in 1700; was graduated ai Yale College in 1721;
was ordained at Middleborough, Mass., in 1724; was dismissed; was installed at New Brain-
tree, April 18, 1754- and died May 12, 1782, aged eighty-two.]
ASA BURTON. 143
In public and in private, he ceased not to preach and to exhort with all
tenderness and fidelity. He was especially intent on the promotion of the
spiritual welfare of the young ; and whereas he found them making au idol
of worldly pleasure in its various forms, he endeavoured, by every possible
means, and especially by instituting a religious service particularly for their
benefit, to attract them away from forbidden paths into the ways of virtue
and piety. Though no very marked visible efi"ect was produced by his min-
istry for some time, yet, after about two years of earnest and persevering
labour, he began to reap the harvest. A revival took place, in the blessings
of which nearly every family in the town had a share, and about thirty were,
in consequence, added to the church. The general character of the commu-
nity for public spirit and intelligence, as well as morality, was thereby
greatly improved ; and even the most sceptical were constrained to acknow-
ledge that the town was not the worse, but the better, for the religious
influence which had pervaded it.
Few ministers have been placed in circumstances to require a greater
amount of labour, and few have been more ready to task themselves to the
utmost, than was Mr. Burton during the first years of his ministry. As no
house for public worship had been built, they held their religious services
during the winter in private dwellings, and in the summer in barns. Besides
discharging his appropriate duties as a minister, he conducted a singing
school gratuitously, during two successive winters, that that branch of the
public worship might be performed in a more tasteful as well as more edi-
fying manner. At the same time, as the surrounding country was all new,'
and Christian privileges were very scantily enjoyed, there were frequent
demands for labour made upon him from abroad ; and in one instance, in
the year 1783, when a general attention to religion prevailed in the region
about Otter Creek, he spent two months there as a missionary, and laboured
so incessantly, and with so little regard to his own health, that his strength
was completely prostrated, so that even his recovery was, for a while, con-
sidered very doubtful.
A second revival of considerable extent occurred within two or three
years after the first ; but that was succeeded by several years of more than
common spiritual barrenness. About the year 1794, he commenced a course
of lectures with special reference to the young ; but, though they generally
attended, it seemed to be rather for purposes of merriment than edification.
At length, however, God, by his providence, administered a rebuke to them,
which brought them into the attitude of earnest and solemn inquiry. A
young man of respectable family-, and highly esteemed by his companions,
on one Sabbath was in the house of God, as the leader of the music, and on the
succeeding Sabbath was there, as a corpse. Mr. Burton read the first Psahn
in the morning ; but, when the choir rose to sing, the impression was so over-
whelming, that one after another burst into tears and sat down, until scarcely
enough remained to perform the service. This was the commencement of
one of the most remarkable revivals on record. For four years it was con-
stantly upon the increase ; and it was four or five more before it had entirely
ceased. It was characterized by the absence of every thing that was even
allied to fanaticism, by uncommonly pungent convictions of sin, and great
self distrust and humility in those who were hopefully reneweJ. During
this whole time, there were frequent and considerable additions to the church,
144 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
but ouly a single individual, as far as is known, ever subsequently apos-
tatized.
Still another revival occurred under his niinisti-y, in the year 1821.
After a protracted season of indiflference, that year witnessed to a general
waking up of both the church and the world, and, in consequence of it,
ajjout one hundred and tifty made a ])ublic profession of their faith. The
venerable pastor, though now in the decline of life, entered into the work
with the deepest interest, labouring to the extent of his ability, and rejoicing
with exceeding joy.
From 1786 to 1816, he had always a greater or less number of theological
students under his care ; and during this period he must have assisted, either
wholly or in part, nearly sixty young men in their preparation for the ministry.
Among them are some of the most useful clergymen of the present day,
besides several of distinguished name who have passed off the stage.
In 1804, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by
Middlobury College.
In 1824, he published a work which has attracted considerable attention,
entitled "Essays on some of the first principles of Metaphysics, Ethics, and
Theology," in a volume of four hundred pages, octavo. It is designed to
vindicate what is usually called the "Taste scheme," in opposition to the
•' Exercise scheme," of which Dr. Emmons was the acknowledged champion.
The work was written some twenty years before it was published ; but it
was finally printed with scarcely any variations from the original manu-
script.
Dr. Burton continued abundant in his labours until, after having passed
three score and ten, the infirmities of age admonished him of the necessity
of having some younger person to share with him the duties of the pastoral
office. Accordingly, in 1825, his congregation provided him with a colleague.
In 1831, the colleague was dismissed, and another succeeded him, who con-
tinued and became sole pastor at the time of Dr. Burton's death. On the
settlement of his colleague, he voluntarily relinquished a large part of his
salary ; and, at a subsequent period, from an apprehension that some diffi-
culty might arise from the payment of any part of it, he relinquished the
whole.
Dr. Burton had a full share of domestic affliction. About five months
previous to his settlement in the ministry, he was married to Mercy Burton,
his half cousin. They had two children, — both daughters; one of whom
died at the age of nine, the other at the age of seventeen. Two months
previous to the death of the latter, Mrs. Burton, while walking on a wet
floor, slipped and strained the muscle of her heel, in consequence of which,
a painful lameness, afterwards amputation, and finally death, ensued ;
though her death did not occur for a year after she received the injury.
She died in 1800, greatly lamented by all who knew her. In 1801, he
was married again, to Mary Child of Thetford, who also died, after having
lived with him five years, leaving one daughter. Three years afterwards,
he married a Mrs. White of Randolph, Mass., sister of the Rev. Mr. Braman
of Rowley. She died, after a distressing illness of nearly two years, in
1818. Few men have been more eminently blessed, or more deeply afflicted,
than he, especially in regard to the conjugal relation.
When he had been fifty years in the ministry, he addressed, a communi-
cation to the Orange Association, with which he was connected, containing
ASA BURTON. 145
some of the results of bis long experience, together with his affectionate
parting counsels. About the same time, he preached his half century ser-
mon, which was marked by much vigour of thought, and was altogether a
highly interesting performance. As the result of his labours, he stated that
four hundred and ninety persons had been added to the church, of whom
three huudi'cd and twenty then remained members. Shortly after this, his
mental faculties began rapidly to decay, and at no distant period, scarcely
a trace of his former intellectual greatness remained. While his mind was
in this enfeebled state, he was sometimes oppressed v/ith painful doubts in
regard to his Christian character; but he ultimately rose above them, and
in his last days enjoyed an unwavering confidence of his interest in the
Divine favour. The long and gradual decline which he had experienced,
was finally terminated by death, on the 1st of May, 1836.
This venerable man was well known and highly esteemed far beyond the
community, or even the State in which he resided. He corresponded with
several of the most eminent clergymen in New England, chiefly upon meta-
physical and theological subjects; and some of his letters which have hap-
pened to fall under my eye, contain most ingenious and elaborate philo-
sophical disquisitions. He was one of the original Trustees of the University
of Vermont, and was afterwards a Trustee of Middlebury College. He was
twice appointed to preach the Election Sermon before the General Assembly
of the State.
Besides the volume already referred to. Dr. Burton published a Sermon
before the Legislature of Vermont, 1785 ; a Sermon before the Legislature
of Vermont, 1795; a Sermon at the ordination of Timothy Clark,* 1800;
a Sermon before the Phi Beta Kappa Society at Dartmouth College, 1800 ;
a Sermon at the funeral of Mrs. Joanna Shaw, 1803 ; a Sermon at the
ordination of Caleb J. Tenney, 1801 ; a Sermon at the ordination of T. A.
Merrill, 1805; a Sermon at the ordination of Chester Wright,! 1809; a
Sermon entitled "False teachers described," 1809; a Sermon at the funeral of
Mrs. Sophia Robinson, 1810; a Sermon at the funeral of Mrs. Maria Allen.
1811 ; a Sermon at the ordination of Benjamin White, t 1811 ; a Sermon on
the State Fast, 1815 ; a Sermon on the National Fast, 1815; a Sermon on
the death of Mrs. Lucy Thompson.
FROM THE REV. DAVID THURSTON, D. D.
WiNTUROP, Me., February 1G, 1848.
My dear Sir : It gives me pleasure to comply with your request for some estimato
of the character of nij^ venerated instructor and friend, the Ilev. Dr. Burton. I
knew him intimately, and lew men whom I liave ever known, have I respected so
* Timothy Clark was born in Connecticut in 1764; was graduated at Dartmouth College in
1791; was ordained pastor of the church in Greenfield, N. 11., January 1, 180U; was diamiseod
May 1, 1811; and died in 1841.
t Chester Wright was born in Hanover, N. H., November 6, 1776; was graduated at
Middlebury College in 1805; was Preceptor of Addison County Grammar School from 1805 to
1807; studied Theology under Dr. Burton; was ordained first pastor of the church in jNIont-
pelier, Vt., August 16, 1809; was dismissed in 18.S0; and was pastor of the church in Hard-
wick, Vt., from 18.37 till his death, which occurred at Montpclier, April 16, 1840. He was a
member of the Corporation of Middlebury College from 1819 till the close of his life. At aH
early day, he published the Federal Compendium, (an Arithmetic,) and afterwards several
Sermons.
I BEN.iAMiy AVhite was a native of Thetford, Vt. ; was graduated at Dartmouth College in
1807; was ordained at Wells, Me., in June, 1811; a'.:d died at his fathers house in Tnetford,
March 23, 1814, aged thirty-three.
Vol. II. 19
146 TKIMTAUIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
luucli. I liowevcr rarely saw him, after leaving his family in 1805, at the close of
my theological course preparatory to entering tliu ministry.
Dr. Burton wa.s a man of uncommon intellectual powers. lie had a clear,
jienetrating, comprehensive mind, liy a course of severe discipline, he had so
.schooled his understanding that he was ca{)able of taking the most profound and
discriuiinating views of any sui)ject tiiat occupied his attention. Though his
library was small, and his reading hy no means very extensive, he was familiar
witli tile ablest writers on metapliysical science. lie was not accustomed to stop
in the investigation of a subject, until he suppo.sed he had reached tlie legitimate
boundary of human knowleilge. As an instance of his great jjerseverance, he used
to say that he had spent more than tliree months of intense study upon three
words, — frec-moral-agency. Xor w.as the time spent in vain; for he acquired a
knowledge of the mind and its operations, which comparatively few have ever
reached.
In the ordinary intercourse of hfe he was not particularly sociable; and yet,
whenever an}' subject of moment was introduced, he was sufBciently free, ami
always highly instructive. Ilis people occasionally complained that he talked so
little. He would reply, " You did not give me any thing to talk about." In his
domestic relations he was exemplary and allectionate. He was "given to Imspi-
tality, and a lover of good men." Firm and decided in his opinions, he was yet
forbearing towards tliose who differed from him. Ilis standard of Christian
I'liaracter v as high, and he always seemed pressing forward to yet higher spiritual
attainments. Humility was among his most prominent traits. His prayers in
his family as well as in public, evinced a deep sense of the evil of sin, of the cor-
ruption of his own heart, and of the exceeding riches of Divine grace in tlie
salvation of the lost.
As a pastor, he was most laborious and faithful. I cannot say that his public
discourses were remarkable for felicitous arrangement; but yet they were so full
of thought, — direct, appropriate, solemn, and pungent thought, that, upon tlie
intelligent and reflecting hearer they could hardly fail to produce an effect. He
generally preached both parts of the day from the same text. He laid great stress
upon liaving the distinguishing doctrines of the Bible clearly and full}' stated and
enforced, to produce a genuine revival of religion. This he regarded as specially
important in preventing a spurious religious experience, as well as in detecting and
destroying false hopes. As an illustration of this, he used to mention a fact that
occurred in his neighbourhood. Much had been said of an awakening that was in
progress in the place, and he had been repeatedly solicited to preach there; but he
felt confident that if he were to comply with the request, and were to preach as he
usually did in seasons of revival, the effect would be very different from what was
anticipated. Hoping that .some good might result from the excitement, he deferred
his visit to the place as long as he could find any reasonable excuse. At length,
however, yielding to urgent solicitation, he went and preached as impressively as
he could, and the result was precisely as he anticipated — the work cea.sed. It
had been originated and sustained by something else than deep, searching views
of Gospel truth. A very considerable number had professed to be converted,
but, with one or two exceptions, their goodness proved as the morning cloud and
the early dew.
Dr. Burton was once requested to hold him.self in readiness to preach at an
ordination, in case of the failure of President Dwight, whose services on that
occasion were expected. It was understood throughout the whole region that
Dr. Dwight was to be the preacher; and this drew together an unusually large
congregation. But he was providentially prevented from being present. None
felt the disappointment so keenly as Dr. Burton, as it devolved on him to appear
as Dr. D.'s substitute. He showed his excellent judgment by preaching from
those solemn and impressive words, — "We must all appear before the judgment
ASA BURTOX. ]47
seat of Christ." B}' selecting such a passage, and leading his audience to a
contemplation of the momentous truth involved in it, he contrived in the happiest
l)0ssible manner, to make them forget their disappointment. Mr. (after ,vards
Dr.) Channing of Boston, who Avas present, remarked that Dr. B., with all his
metaphysics, was any thing but a dry preacher. And this was a just remark.
Though he sometimes treated subjects in a manner which required, on the part of
tlie hearers, close and patient thinking, j-et his people had the good sense to
appreciate what was so much to their advantage, and had learned to apply their
minds to a sustained and even profound course of reasoning.
As an instructer in Theology, he was much disthiguished. As his views were
exceedingly lucid, his method of imparting instruction was simple and easy.
However abstruse the subject on which he was speaking, his pupils never had
occasion to ask him what he meant. The first ten subjects in the system which
he prescribed were metaphj-sical ; for he said he iiever had a pupil from any
College, who had any consistent or definite views of free, moral agency. He
considered that a correct knowledge of the human mind bore much the same
relation to a correct understanding of Divinity, as that of anatomy does to the
healing art. Whatever may be thought of some of his speculations in mental
])hilosophy, he unquestionably took the only consistent method to a right and
thorough understanding of his subject. lie treated it according to the laws of
classification. He instructed his pupils to inquire into the general and specific
differences of their mental operations; — how the intellectual or perceptive ditlered
from the sentient or feeling; and how these differed from the voluntary; and to
reckon all those which had a common nature as belonging to the same faculty, and
to inquire why these faculties were necessarj^ to constitute accountable, moral
agents. It had been generallj- agreed that beings Mho had the three faculties,
understanding, heart, and will, were moral agents; but comparatively few had
ever thought of inquiring wh}' these faculties or any others were necessary to
render them such.
He placed a great value upon truth. Few minds have ever been more strongly
or solemnly impressed with the importance of correct views of all subjects, espe-
cially of religion. At the same time, he was not captious, nor disputatious,
nor censorious. His success as a minister of Christ, in winning souls and in
j)romoting the holiness and comfort of God's people, was such as to stamp his
ministrations with peculiar honour. He was an able and judicious counsellor;
was often called to assist in the ordination of ministers, and the organization of
churches, and the adjustment of difficulties. But in notliing were his services more
important, or his inlluence more enduring, than in aiding young men in their
preparation for the ministry-. Indeed he sustained with lionour, dignity, and
usefulness, every relation. I am very truly,
Your friend and brother,
DAVID THURSTON.
148 TRINITARIAN CONr.REGATIONAL.
DANIEL CHAPLIN, D. D.
1777— 183L
FROM Tin: i;i:v. joiin todd. d. u.
I'lTTsuKr.i), Mass., May 17, 185ti.
My dear iSir: I clioort'uUy comply with your request for such notices as I
am able to furnish of my venerable friend, the late Dr. Ciiapli.n.
In the year 1G3.S or '39, eighteen years after the landing of the Pilgrims
at Plymouth, a number of people came from Kowlcy, England, and settled
in llowley, Mass. At their head was the fatuous Ezekicl Rogers, who had
been their pastor for twenty years before they crossed the waters. Among
these pious colonists was a youug man by the name of Hugh Chaplin. It
is now two hundred and fourteen years since, but the subject of this notice
was only the third generation from the first who came to America, bearing
the name of Chapliu.
DaiUL'l Chaplin was born at Kowley, December 30, 1743. His parents
were Jonathan Chaplin and Sarah Boynton, the former of whom died, Jan-
uary 1, 17'J4, in his eighty-eighth year, and the latter, February 19, 17S4.
The father is thus described by his son. " He was small in stature, and at
no period robust. Temperance and regularity contributed much to his
enjoyment of an uncommon degree of health, comfort, and longevity, lit-
was remarkable for modesty of spirit, for calmness and constancy. As a
Christian, he never made high professions, but was always steady and perse-
vering in the practice of what he deemed to be his duty. He was punctual
and devout in attending on all the external duties of religion. It plainly
appeared to be a fixed principle of his mind, that no one can be a real dis-
ciple of Christ without doing what He hath commanded. To the best of my
recollection, I never knew him to sit down to a regular meal in his faujily,
or in the field, or wherever he laboured and ate abroad, though there were
but one person present to eat with him, without asking a blessing and
returning thanks." A Puritan father truly!
The mother of Daniel was uncommonly discreet, judicious, and devoted as
a Christian, and the father was very industrious and economical; brought
up his children with great care and tenderness ; gave them many lessons of
wisdom, virtue, and jtiety ; and always added a good example to his precepts.
As he lived, so he died, with serenity, entertaining a good hope of salvation by
Christ. By these parents Daniel was dedicated to God in baptism in infancy.
He seems to have spent the early part of his life on the little farm of his father
at manual labour. I am not informed at what time he became a subject of
grace, but from some hints in his writings, I gather that it was his conver-
sion and conscfjuent desire to do good, that first led him to think of a
College education. He probably made a public profession of religion in
Marih, 1769, in his twenty-sixth year.
The same year, young Chaplin entered Harvard University, where
he graduated one of the first three scholars in a class of forty-eight,
hix of whom became ministers, in 1772. Eight of the class survived him.
From the same College he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity in
1817. During his college course he was much respected for his manners,
da:;iel giiaplix. 149
always mild and couvtoous ; for his scholarship, always of a high order ;
and for his piety, always alive and consistent. Just after graduating, he
rei^olves " to keep one day in every month, when my circumstances will
admit of it, as a day of fasting and prayer, more especially to seek unto
God for ministerial gifts and graces, for direction and assistance in all spirit-
ual life, and for the enlargement of Christ's kingdom in the world;" — "to
make it a rule to do no action, at any time or place, of which action I should
not be willing to be a -witness against myself hereafter."
Mr. Chaplin fitted for College at Dummer Academy, at which time Dr.
Fisher remarked, " Young Chaplin had a large corporeal frame, and a mind
no ways inferior." From his graduation to his ordination, January 1, 1778,
six years intervened, a part of which time he spent in teaching, and a part
in the study of Theology under the instruction of the Rev. Mr. Chandler
of his native place. His call to Groton was, I believe, unanimous, at a
time when the town had been convulsed by a high political excitement,
resulting in the dismissal of his predecessor. A moral hurricane had just
swept over them, and the foam was on the waters still, when he took the
helm, and held it with a calm and strong hand. He had invitations to posts
more lucrative, but he loved his work, and held to it, though, in the scarcity
of money, he and his family were often greatly straitened.
The public ministry of Dr. Chaplin continued for fifty years. At the
time of his settlement, the Half-way Covenant, as it was called, paralyzed
the churches. The practice continued during a great part of his ministry,
though he deplored it. He was settled during the Revolutionary war, at a
time when the country was invaded, laws almost suspended, the question of
the future government and even liberty of the nation swallowed up all
thought and feeling. The fate, the form, and the destiny of the nation were
the only questions about which men would think or speak. The active,
powerful men whom Dr. Chaplin found at Groton, were not expending their
strength upon the cause of Christ. It was a long dreaiy pei"iod from the
commencement of the war to the final settlement of the government of the
country, when questions so new, so important, and so great, were occupying
all minds. Mr. Chaplin married Miss Susan Prescott, daughter of the
Prescott, famous on Bunker Hill, and this naturally brought him into the
circle of excitement. For a long period of his ministry, he had to fight as
one beating the air, or like one watering a rock. Almost any man can push
his boat ahead when wind and tide favour, but if both be contrary, he must
have a strong arm who can do more than keep her from going backward.
He had eight children, four sons and four daughters. One son was a very
eminent physician, and another a lawyer.
When my acquaintance with Dr. Chaplin commenced, he was an old man,
tall, venerable, with white, soft, silvery hair, most graceful in manners, —
one who would have made a good sitter for a picture of Abraham, as he
gracefully bowed before the sons of Heth. My first and last impressions of
him were, that he was eminent for courtly manners, venerable appearance,
and fervent, devoted piety. He was not tied up to systems of Theology,
perhaps not altogether methodical in his classification of doctrines as modem
Doctors arc ; but for clear, definite, scriptural, common-sense views of the
government of God, he had few to excel him. In a Sermon preached before
the Convention of Congregational Ministers of Massachusetts, — which Ser-
mon was published, he says, "The faithful preacher will ^ireach and dwell
150 THINITAUIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
on those doctrines of rovelatiun whioh appear to liave been consiilered by
the sacred writers as t'luiilaiiK'iital, and of the greatest importance, and wliieh
have had the greatest influence on the minds of men. These doctrines are.
— the being and perfections of God, — a Trinity in the unity of the Godhead,
— the eternal Divinity of the Son and Spirit, — the unchangeable sovereignty
of God in all liis operations, — the apostacy and ruin of man by sin, — the
freedom and aecountableness of all the human race, — the mission of the Son
of God, — the nature and necessity of regeneration by the influence of the
Holy Spirit, — ^justification by faith in the blood of Christ, — the new obedi-
ence and progressive sanctification of Christians, — the resurrection of the
dead, — the tinal judgment, and the everlasting destination both of the righte-
ous and the wicked, according to their respective characters; — to the former
(xod will give an ample salvation, and to the latter He will assign complete
and endless destruction."
While most amiable and kind. Dr. Chaplin was a very decided man. His
people always knew where to find him. He never brought his foot down
with great vehemence, but when once down, there was no moving it. It
was that kind of persevering decision which does not tire out. Cautious
and cool in concluding on a course of conduct, he was inflexible in pursuing
it. No obstacles or difficulties turned him aside. On one occasion he found
a poor and sick family suffering with the cold. He told the woman she
should have a load of wood the next day. During the night a heavy snow
fell and completely blocked up the paths. But the next day, the old man,
nearly seventy years of age, was chopping in the woods, while his youngest
son, with a few sticks at a load, was breaking paths, till the sufiering family
had the full load promised, and then they went and cut it uj). By this time
it was night, but he had kept his word to the letter, while others thought it
an impossibility. This decision of character gave him great influence. The
temperament of a public man impresses itself upon the community. If he
is fickle or easily moved, there will be enough to move him, and then com-
plain of his want of consistency. If he is firm and moves in a right line,
they will learn to lean upon him and let him pursue his own course unmolested.
Deep and uniforni piety was a marked characteristic of Dr. (Jhaplin. In
prayer, he had a compass of thought, a humility of expression, a reverence
of manner, and a solemn bearing that awed those who heard him pray. It
was more than appropriateness — it was the out-going of a soul that was
familiar at the mercy-seat. lie seemed at times to stand on tlie top of
Pi.sgali and see all the promised land. From a remark made to me in great
humility, I was led to infer that for more than sixty years he had daily
knelt in his closet in prayer. His piety was kindled, and strengthened, and
matured there. He was a great reader; but morning, noon, and night,
during all ray ac(|uaintanee with him, I used to find him, with tlie simplicity
of a child, reading the word of God. He wonderfully understood " the
mind of the Spirit.'' During his last sickness even, he would ask and
answer questions of interpretation with surprising discrimination. While
on the very verge of the river and ready to go over, he looked back to the
Prophets and Apostles for light and consolation.
During his pilgrimage, Dr. Chaplin passed tlirough many and severe trials.
That his parents and relatives should die, was in the order of nature. But
of eight children whom he saw ripening into maturity and promising to be
the stay and staff of his age, he was called to bury five. I can never forget
DAMEL CHAPLIN. 151
the manner in which he passed through one or.leal. The name of his sou.
James P. Chaplin, M, D., of Cambridgeport, will not soon be forgotten —
a man highly esteemed and universally beloved. He was emphatically "the
beloved physician." He was cut down suddenly in the bloom of life and in
the strength of his usefnlne;-s. His ftill was felt far round the spot whore
his dust sleeps, and his beautiful form and nobleness of character will long
live in the memory of all who knew him. The child of many prayers, ht-
was all that a father could desire in a son. The affection between tlie old
patriarch and liis son was beautiful. The one leaned as on a strong staff
confidingly' ; the other repaid the confidence with a tenderness that nothing
could surpass. Like Jacob, the old man's heart was bound up in the chihi.
On Friday, tidings came that Dr. James P. Chaplin was sick, though lic
danger was apprehended. On Saturday the only remaining son went to
Cambridge to see him. On Sabbath evening, as I was just entering a full
room to hold a religious meeting, I had to announce the death of Dr.
Chaplin the beloved physician I A loud groan ran through the house —
testifying how he was esteemed in his native village. As we were going to
carry the tidings to the aged father, the son said to me — "These are heavy
tidings to carry to an old man — a father almo.-t ninety years old." It was
all that passed between us on the way. In a few minutes I was standing in
his little parlour. There was the aged man with his worn Testament in
his hand, surrounded by his wife and two daughters. He arose, as he always
did, and gave me his hand. His son dared not trust his feelings to come
in. "Have you heard any thing from Cambridge to-day, Sir?" "No" —
he replied with an uncommon quickness. There was a long pause, each
dreading to speak. "Are you prepared. Sir, for any tidings that Provi-
dence may send you ?" He started perceptibly — the hectic flush passed over
his face, but it was gone in a moment. "At what hour " — said he, with a
calmness that was more than affecting, it was sublime — "at what hour did
the awful event take place ?" I told him. A burst of agony broke
from every one except the aged father. As soon as he could speak, he said
in a subdued tone of voice, "I think I can say I am truly thankful that I
had such a son to give back to God." He then opened his lips and for an
hour spake with a calmness, a clearness, and an eloquence that I have never
heard surpassed. It was the man, tl\e father, the minister, baptized by the
Holy Ghost. A letter which he shortly after wrote to a beloved grand-
child, shewed that this was not the result of insensibility to his loss. From
that blow, so calmly received, he never recovered.
At a proper time. Dr. Chaplin, when health and strength failed, more than
once respectfully asked his people to afford him an assistant, but these
requests were not complied with. When his health actually gave out, he
procured me to assist him for a few Sabbaths. I was then just leaving my
theological studies. This gave offence to some of his people ; and the result
was, that a majority of his church left the meeting house with their aged
pastor. They clung to him, and he was never dismissed from the churcli.
lu the mean while his people settled a Unitarian minister. A young churcli
was also organized, of which I became the first pastor. So that, although
Dr. Chaplin was a father to me, and I loved and honoured him as a son, yet
we were never colleagues. Without expressing any opinion on the merits
of the controver.sy, I can truly say that I never heard him, during all his
trials, make use of any angry expressions, or make a severe remark against
152 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
any man, or evince the least bitterness of feeling. It seemed hardly possi-
ble for imperfect human nature to pass through what he did, and yet so
uniformly and so clearly reflect the image of Christ. I do not believe he
know what it was to feel enmity against any human being, or that, for years
before his death, he had a personal enemy.
His last sickness was severe and trying, but he bore it iu meekness. As
tloath approached, there were no raptures, no high excitements, nor were
there any fears. He went down the valley of death as the full sun of autumn
sets, when not a cloud dims its brightness. He had been so often on the
mount, and had so often seen eternal things, that when the king of terrors
came, he found the pilgrim ready. It was not so much like dying, as like
the sweet confidence of the infant falling asleep in the arms of its mother.
Many men have been more noticed in life, and, perhaps, longer remembered
after death, but few, it is believed, have found a nearer passage to the bosom
of the lledeemer, or will wear a brighter crown in the day of his appearing.
Ever faithfully yours,
JOHN TODD.
TIMOTHY DWIGHT, D. D *
1777—1817.
Timothy Dwight, the son of Timothy and Mary Dwight, was born in
Northampton, Mass., May 14, 1752. His father was graduated at Yalo
< 'oUege in 1744, and was a merchant in Northampton, and a person of excel-
lent understanding and exemplary piety. His mother was the third daugh-
tei" of Jonathan Edwards, and inherited much of his intellectual superiority.
She conducted the education of this son entirely during his earliest years •,
and, under her skilful training, he quickly gave indications of not only a
thirst for knowledge but a facility at acquiring it, which foreshadowed the
eminence to which he was destined. As an evidence of his great precocity,
lit- is said to have mastered the alphabet at a single lesson ; and at the age
i)f four, he could read the Bible correctly and fluently.
When he was six years old, he was sent to the Grammar school ; and
though his father objected to his studying Latin at so early an age, yet so
intense was his desire to study it, that he contrived to avail himself of a
grammar owned by one of his fellow pupils, and thus stealthily undertook
the accomplishment of his purpose. The consent of his father that he
should prosecute the study of the languages, having at length been obtained,
through the intercession of his instructor, he made such rapid progress that,
but for the discontinuance of the school, he would have been fitted, at the
age of eight years, to enter College. In consequence of the interruption
of his classical studies, which now occurred, he was brought again under the
instruction of his mother, who seems to have drilled him most thoroughly
in the elementary branches, and especially in geography and history. It
was a great advantage he enjoyed, that not only his daily intercourse with
his parents was of the most improving and elevating kind, but his father's
* Memoir prefixed to his Theology. — Port Folio, 1817.
1
TIMOTHY D WIGHT. 153
liouse was tlie resort of many persons of high intelligence, whose conversa-
tion, especially on the political topics of the day, was fitted, as well to
enkindle in his bosom the fire of patriotism, as to quicken his intellectual
faculties.
In his twelfth year, he was sent to Middletown to pursue his studieb
under the direction of the Rev. Enoch Huntington. Here his application
was most intense and successful. In September, 1765, when he had just
passed his thirteenth year, he was admitted a member of the Freshman
class in Yale College ; having read not only the classical authors which
were required for admission, but a considerable part of those which were
included in the college course.
The first two years of his college life hardly fulfilled the promise of
either intellectual or moral development which his earlier years had seemed
to give. Various circumstances contributed to this untoward result ; but
happily the slight delinquencies with which he was chargeable drew towards
him the considerate and monitory regards of one of the officers of the Col-
lege, (the late Hon. Stephen Mix Mitchell of Connecticut,) through whose
influence he was reclaimed and restored, when his feet had only begun to
slide. This timely and benevolent interference he ever afterwards acknow-
ledged with the warmest gratitude, as having been the means, under Provi-
dence, of giving a better direction to his life.
At the commencement of his Junior year, he set himself in good earnest
to repair the loss of preceding years, and from that time to the close of his
♦college course, his industry as a student was almost unparalleled. Not at
all satisfied with doing in the^ best manner whatever was included in the
regular curriculum, he became a proficient in various other branches,
especially in poetry and music. It is hardly necessary to add that he
attained to the highest rank in scholarship, and was equally distinguished
for the variety and the thoroughness of his acquisitions. He was graduated
in 1769, when he was a little past seventeen ; and though he and his class*-
mate Strong (afterwards the Rev. Dr. Strong of Hartford) were regarded
as equally deserving of the first honour at Commencement, yet it was
actually conferred upon Strong, in consideration of his being the elder, with
an understanding that the case would be reversed when they should receive
the second degree.
Shortly after he left College, he took charge of a Grammar school in
New Haven, where he remained two years. During this period, besides
fulfilling his duties as a teacher with the utmost diligence, he devoted ni>
less than eight hours of each day to intense study.
In September, 1771, he was chosen a Tutor in Yalte College ; and, not-
withstanding his extreme youth, — being at that time only in his twentieth
year, he !<howed himself fully adequate to the responsibilities of the office.
Here he continued for six years, devoting himself with the utmost assiduity
as well to the culture of his own mind as the improvement of his pupils
and the general interests of the College. So intense and unintermitted was
his application to study during this period, that his health became seriously
impaired, and there was much reason, for a time, to apprehend that his con-
stitution was cilectually undermined ; though he succeeded, chiefly by means
of regular and vigorous exercise, in restoring his bodily system to its accus-
tomed soundness. His eyes, however, which had been weakened, first from
reading too much by candle-light, and afterwards from too early and severe
Vol. II. 20
J54 TRINITARIAN COXGUEGATIONAL.
applicatlun after recovering from the small pox, never regained tboir wonted
^;t^engtll, but were a source of serious embarrassment to him through his
whole sub.-C(|uent life.
In 177 1, Mr. Dwight made a prolVssinn of religion, by joining the Cid-
lege ehurc-h. Of the particular exerci.'^es of mind of which tliis stop was
the result, we have no knowledge; but it can scarcely be doubted that his
permanent religious impressions were to be referred, remotely at least, td
the faithful training of an excellent mother. He appears, at this time, to
"]?ave contemplated the study of the Law, and afterwards to have actually
engaged in it; but, from some cause or other, his ultimate determination
was in favour of Theology.
In March, 1777, he was married to Mary, daughter of IJenjamin Wool-
sey, Esq., of Dosoris, Long Island. They became the parents of eight
sons, who have been distinguished in the various walks of public and pri-
vate usefulness. Mrs. Dwight, who was an eminent example of the domestic
and social virtues, survived her husband many years, and died at New
Haven in October, 1845, aged ninety-one years and six months.
In consequence of the tumult and peril occasioned b}' the llevolutionary
war, the students of the College dispersed in May, 1777, accompanied by
their Tutors, to various places, where they might pursue their studies in
greater safety and quietude. Mr. Dwight went with his class to Wethers-
field, and remained with them till the ensuing autumn; and, in the mean
time, he was licensed to preach by a committee of the Northern Associa-
tion of the county of Hampshire, Mass. So great was his popularity
among the students of College that, when it was ascertained by them that
the office of President was likely to be vacated by the resignation of Dr.
Daggett, they made out a formal petition to the Corporation that Mr.
Dwight might be chosen as his successor; and, but for Mr. D.'s own inter-
ference, the petition would have been presented.
Mr. Dwight had been a watchful and deeply interested spectator of those
great public events which brought on the Revolution ; and, as he never
doubted that the cause of the Colonies was a righteous cause, so he was
ever ready to help it forward liy any service tliat he was able to render.
Accordingly, within a few months after he was licensed to preach, we find
him accepting the appointment of Chaplain to General Parsons' brigade,
which belonged to the division of General Putnam. He joined the army at
West Pouit in October, 1777, and remained in it somewhat more than a
year. The duties of this highly responsible station, as of every other which
he had previously occupied, he discharged with the most scrupulous fidelity.
While lie la))Oured to the utmost for the promotion of the spiritual interests
of those among whom he was thrown, he contributed, not only l)y the
patriotic discourses which he delivered, but by the patriotic songs which he
composed, to put new vigour into the aspirations and efforts of his country-
men for national liberty. Here he made the acquaintance of many dis-
tinguished officers of the army, — especially of Washington, who formed a
high estimate of his talents and virtues, and ever afterwards honoured him
with his friendship.
',^' Mr. Dwight resigned his Chaplaincy in oliedience to the dictates of filial
' duty. His father had died at Natchez, where he had gone to provide a
settlement for two of his sons ; leaving a widow and thirteen children, of
whom Mr. Dwight was the eldest. As the family were left without any
TIMOTUY DWIGIIT. 155
adequate means of support, this generous and devoted son and brother
immediately quitted the army, and removed with his own family to North-
ampton, where, for a series of years, he lived with the responsibility of this
double charge upon him. His labours, during this time, would seci.ui almost
incredible. With his own hands he worked upon the farm during the week,
and on the Sabbath supplied some vacant congregation in the neighbour-
hood. He established a school also for both sexes, which acquired great
celebrity, and which marked an epoch in the history of education, at least
in that part of the country. He rendered important services in a civil
capacity; representing the town not only in the County Conventions, but,
during two years, in the State Legislature ; and his influence in these
important places was not only always for good, but was most efficient, and
often decisive of important measures. So conspicuous had he become,
about the close of the Kevolution, on the arena of political life, that some
excellent men, who were by no means unmindful of the interests of the
Church, gave it as their decided opinion that his services ought to be
retained for the benefit of the State ; and there was an incipient movement
to secure his election to the Continental Congress, which was abandoned
only because he would not consent to be considered as a candidate. He
had sacredly devoted himself to the Christian ministry, and he was inflexible
in the purpose to spend his life in what he regarded the noblest of all
callings.
While Mr. Dwight was a member of the Legislature of Massachusetts,
he occasionally preached in Boston and its vicinity, and attracted so much
attention by his services in the pulpit, that he received invitations to settle
in the ministry from two highly respectable congregations. Both these
invitations, however, he declined ; but in July of tlie same year, (1783,) he
accepted a call from the church and congregation in Greenfield, Conn., and
on the 5th of November following, was ordained their pastor. The ordina-
tion sermon was preached by his uncle, the llev. Dr. Edwards of New
Haven,
As the stipulated salary of IMr. Dwight was found entirely inadequate to
the support of his family, — his expenses being not a little increased by the
great amount of company which his eminent character and attainments drew
to him, — he found it necessary to resort to some employment not imme-
diately connected with his profession. Accordingly, he established an
Academy, which very soon became extensively known, and, as long as it
continued, enjoyed the patronage of distinguished men from various parts
of the country. To this institution he devoted six hours of each day ; while,
at the same time, he discharged the appropriate duties of the ministry witli
great fidelity and acceptance. Though he preached regularly twice on the
Sabhath, it was generally from short notes; and it was his own opinion that
his preaching then was more eff'ectivc than when, in subsequent life, and upon
a change of circumstances, he wrote out his sermons and read tliem as the}
were written.
In 1787, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from
the College of New Jersey ; and in 1810, the degree of Doctor of Laws was
conferred upon him by Harvard University.
In 1794, he was invited to the pastoral charge of the Eeformed Dutch
Church in Albany ; — a circumstance which was rendered remarkable by the
fact that he belonged to another denomination, and one with which the
15G TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Dutch churcb, at that time, had but little intercourse. He declined tlie
call, partly on the ground that there were some minor things in the consti-
tution of the Church, to which he could not conscientiously subscribe.
Upon the death of Dr. Stiles in 1795, the public eye was very generally
directed towards Dr. Dwight as his successor; and, in accordance with this
general expectation, he was chosen, shortly after, to the office of President,
and was inaugurated in September of that year, lie had resided at Green-
field for twelve years, where he had been going on in an increasingly useful
and honourable course ; and it is no matter of surprise that the loss of such
a man should have occasioned sore regret, not only to his own immediate
flock, but to the whole community in which he lived.
In this office Dr. Dwight continued till the close of life ; — not merely,
however, discharging its appropriate duties, but connecting with it an
amount of labour belonging to other departments, which it seems truly
wonderful that any one man should have performed. Besides instructing
the Senior class, as his predecessors had done, he was really Professor of
Belles Lettres, and Oratory, and Theology; and in this latter department,
he was accustomed to instruct a class of resident graduates, who were pre-
paring for the ministry. lie was also, to all intents and purposes, the
pastor of a church and the minister of a congregation ; in which capacity he
was accustomed to preach in the College chapel twice every Sabbath. It
was in the discharge of this duty, that he prepared and delivered the course
of Sermons constituting his System of Theology, with which his reputation
as a writer and preacher is chiefly identified.
During nearly the whole period of his Presidency, he was accustomed to
pass his vacations in journeying, chiefly in New England and the State of
New York. With his habits of minute and accurate observation, and his
extensive acquaintance with the most intelligent men of all classes, it was
to be expected that he would accumulate large stores of valuable informa-
tion; and the results of his observation, on these annual or semi-auuual
tours, have been given to the world in his four volumes of "Travels" pub-
lished since his death. This work contains a vast amount of statistical and
other information, no where else to be found.
Dr. D wight's health continued in undiminished vigour until February,
1816, when he experienced the first serious attack of the disease whicii
finally terininatcd his life. During the month of April, little hopes were
entertained of his recovery ; but, at the end of twelve weeks, his case
assumed a more favourable aspect, and, at the opening of the next term, in
the early part of June, he was able to return, in some measure, to his
accustomed duties. His first sermon in the College chapel had special
reference to the protracted hidisposition from which he felt himself then to
be only recovering ; and it exhilntcd a most impressive view of the esti-
mate which he placed upon the Gospel, when he supposed that he was about
to take leave of all terrestrial scenes and objects. On the 17th of June, he
met the General Association of Connecticut, which held its session that
year at New Haven, and manifested the most intense interest in the evi-
dence that was presented of the progress of the Redeemer's Kingdom.
He assisted, on that occasion, in the administration of the Lord's Supper,
and spoke with a fervour and elevation of spirit which seemed to betoken
his near approach to the communion of the glorified. He continued,
during the summer, to perform his duties in the College without interrup-
TIMOTHY DWIGHT. 257
tion, though not a day passed but he was obliged to resort to a surgical
operation to relieve himself from pain. He also, during this time, per-
formed a considerable amount of miscellaneous business, and wrote several
articles on moral and theological subjects, which he designed for the press.
He presided at the Commeucement in September ; and, during the succeed-
ing vacation, his health, though feeble, seemed to be improving. At the
3ommencement of the next term, he attempted to resume his labours, but
nis debility and suffering were such as really to unfit him for active effort.
He met the Senior class, for the last time, on the 27th of November, and
•jontinued to hear the recitations of his Theological class, at his own house,
till the week before his death ; and, on the occasion of his last meeting with
them, in the midst of intense suffering, delivered himself on the subject of
their recitation with great energy and eloquence. During his last days and
hours, his mind seemed to repose with unlimited confidence and joy on the
great tx-uths which he had believed and preached, and his departure was as
serene and beautiful as the going down of the sun in a cloudless sky. His
death occurred on the 11th of Januai-y, 1817. His funeral was on the
14th. It assembled an immense concourse, and clothed both the College
and the city with gloom. A sermon wag preached on the occasion by the
Rev. Dr. Chapin of Rocky^Hill, one of the Corporation of the College ;
and subsequently a Eulogy was delivered by Professor Silliman. Both were
published.
The following is a list of Dr. Dwight's publications : — A Dissertation on
the Histor}', Eloquence, and Poetry of the Bible, delivered at the public
Commencement at New Haven, (anonymous,) 1772. A Valedictory to the
graduating class in Yale College, (anonymous,) 1776. A Thanksgiving
Sermon preached at Stamford, (anonymous,) 1777. A Sermon preached at
Northampton on occasion of the capture of the British army under the
command of Earl Cornwallis, (anonymous,) 1781. The Conquest of
Canaan : A Poem, 1785. The Triumph of Infidelity : A Poem, (anony-
mous,) 1788. An Election Sermon, 1791. A Discourse on the genuine-
ness and authenticity of the New Testament, delivered at New Haven on the
Tuesday before the Commencement, 1793. Greenfield Hill : A Poem,
1794. A Sermon delivered before the Connecticut Society of Cincinnati,
1795. Two Sermons on the nature and danger of Infidel Philosophy,
addressed to the candidates for the Baccalaureate in Yale College, 1797.
A Discourse delivered at the funeral of the Rev. Elizur Goodrich, D. D.,
1797. A Discourse delivered at New Haven on the Fourth of July, 1798.
A Discourse delivered at New Haven on the character of George Washing-
ton, 1800. A Discourse delivered at New Haven, on some events of the
last Century, 1801. A Discourse on the death of Mr. Ebenczer Grant
Marsh, 1803. A Sermon on Duelling preached in the chapel of Yale Col-
lege, and afterwards in the Old Presbyterian church in New York, 1805.
A Sermon preached at tlie opening of the Theological Institution at Ando-
ver, and at the ordination of the Rev. Eliphalet Pearson, L. L. D., 1808.
A Sermon occasioned by the death of Governor Trumbull, delivered at New
Haven by request of the General Assembly, 1809. A Charity Sermon
preached at New Haven, 1810. A Statistical Account of the city of New
Haven, 1811. A Discourse at the ordination of N. W. Taylor, 1812. A
Discourse in two parts delivered in the chapel of Yale College on the State
Fast, 1812. A Discourse in two parts delivered in the chapel of Yale Col-
158 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
lege on the National Fast, 1812. A Sermon delivered in Boston before the
American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, 1813. Observa-
tions on Languages, and on Light, published in the Memoirs of the American
Academy of Arts and Sciences, lleinarks on the Review of Inchiquin's
Letters published in the Quarterly lleview, (anonymous,) 1815.
The following liave been published since his death : — Theology explained
and defended in a series of Sermons ; with a Memoir of the Author's life.
In five volumes, octavo, 1818. Travels in New England and New York.
In four volumesj, octavo, 1822. Sermons on miscellaneous subjects. In
two volumes, octavo. 1828.
Of Dr. Dwight's sons, five were graduated at Yale College. Benjainin
Woolsey was graduated in 1799 ; studied medicine, and was for several
years a practitioner, — first at Catskill, N. Y., and afterwards at New Haven.
He subsequently engaged in mercantile pursuits in New Haven, New York
City, and Catskill, and finally removed to Clinton, N. Y , where he died in
1850, aged seventy. He was a man of literary taste, of a philosophical
turn of mind, and of most exemplary Christian character. John was gradu-
ated in 1802, was a young man of very amiable temper and fine poetical
talents, and died the year after he was graduated. Sereno Edwards, who
was graduated in 1803, forms the subject of^ distinct article. William
Theodore, now the Rev. Dr. Dwight of Portland, was graduated in 1813.
Henrij Edwin was graduated in 1815, and subsequently spent two years or
more in preparation for mercantile life. Soon after his conversion, which
took place about that time, he commenced the study of Theology, and, leav-
ing his eldest brother's counting-house, entered the Seminary at Andover.
There he studied with great assiduity and success for about two years,
when he was attacked with hemorrhage of the lungs. He subsequently
went to Europe for his health, where he spent four years. Some time after
his return, he published an exceedingly interesting volume of "Travels in
the North of Germany." He was engaged with his brother Sereno in con-
ducting a gymnasium at New Haven, which was discontinued after about
three years. His health gradually grew feeble, though he was able for
several months to occupy himself in delivering a course of Lectures in
New York and Philadelphia, connected with his European residence. He
died greatly lamented in August, 1833. I have the most pleasant recol-
lections of him as a classmate in College. The gentleness of his spirit and
the urbanity of his manners made him a universal favourite ; and he subse-
quently became distinguished as a graceful and attractive writer. I heard
him spoken of in Germany in terms of the highest respect, in regard to the
qualities of both his intellect and his heart.
It was my privilege to pass my College life under the Presidency of Dr.
Dwight, and, like all his pupils, I have a vivid impression of the peculiar
features of his character, and a distinct recollection of many incidents which
might serve to convey a sinular impression to others. But as I have
already recorded my personal reminiscences of him in another form,* I pre-
fer to furnish the testimony and opinion of several eminent gentlemen who
were contemporary with him, and had the best opportunity of estimating his
character.
• Spark's American Biographj-, IV., 2nd Series.
TIMOTHY DWIGHT. 159
FROM DENISON OLMSTED,, L. L. D.,
; PROFESSOR IN YALE COLLEGE.
Yale College^ October 27, IS^'J.
My dear Sir: I cannot refuse your request for some of my impressions in
respect to the character of Dr. 1) wight, though you must allow me to avail myself,
to some extent, of a sketch which 1 wrote shortly after his death; and nov\', after
an interval of more than thirty years, I cannot feel that I overrated, at that
period, either his intellectual or moral character. Being one of the Tutors during
the two last years of his administration, and often in his familj', and being a
member of a select class in Theology, who recited to him until within a week of
his death, I enjoj^ed opportunities of becoming better acquainted with the Presi-
dent, and of contemplating his character under more aspects, than fell to the lot
of most of his pupils; and my impressions of him were committed to paper in all
their freshness. It was not my privilege to be much with him during his last
hours, nor was I present at the closing scene; but I remained with the body the
day after his decease, and being much of the time alone, it was to me a most inter-
esting and solemn scene, and one that has never faded in my memory, to gaze for
the last time upon features now fixed and motionless, which I had so recently
seen lighted up with the highest expressions of the workings of the intellect and
the emotions of the heart, that ever clothe the human countenance. Nor could I fail
to recall to mind how often and how impressively I had heard the change now
before me described by his own lips.
With a mind of vast capacity. President Dwight grasped at universal knowledge.
At an early age, he had with great avidity entered the field of literary criticism
and mathematical science; but he was soon arrested by a weakness of his ej-es
from which he never recovered. For the greater part of his life, he Avas able
neither to read nor write. In ancient learning, therefore, he was not so great a
proficient as Bentlej^ nor in science as profound as Horsley. He was more like
Bacon and Boyle, being distinguished like them for originality, a thirst for know-
ledge, and a fondness for inductive philosophy. No one who knew him would
hesitate to ascribe to him very superior intellectual faculties; yet it was his own
opinion that whatever success he had exhibited in the acquisition of knowledge,
and in the power of communicating it to others, was owing chiefly to the exact
method to which he trained his understanding, and in which he had arranged all
his ideas. To such perfection had he carried this art, that his mind resembled an
ample and well regulated store-house of various wares, so well assorted and so
systematically arranged, that the o^rner could lay his hand-; immediately on any
article that might be inquired for. He availed himself, in a wonderful degree, of
the advantages which so perfect an arrangement was fitted to confer. A few
moments of reflection would enable him to place in their proper cells, along with
kindred articles, the acquisitions of a single day, as the printer, with surprising
dexterity, restores his types to their several compartments. Such skill in laying
up his ideas was attended with a corresponding facility in bringing them out again,
whenever it was necessary to use them. Few men, I believe, ever had their
acquisitions so completely at command. His memory was either remarkably
retentive by nature, or had become so by art. It was stored with a prodigious
variety of numbers; though it was in the power of retaining numbers that he
himself considered it most defective. He has been heard to saj^ that he formerly
made repeated efforts to remember a certain point of latitude, but was finally
unsuccessful. His own thoughts, however, he could remember with the greatest
ease and exactness, even to a distant period; — a proof of the distinctness and force
with which they were conceived. Facts also he collected with great assiduity,
arranged with minute care, and retained with infallible certainty.
2(30 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
But it will be useful to contoinplatc tliis grc;it iiian in the several splieies in
which his talents were developed, in order to I'oiiu a lair estimate of their maj;iii-
tude and variety.
As an instructer, it is not oasy to ovei-rate his merits. lie united, in a remark-
able degree, the dignity that commands respect, the accuracy that inspires conii-
dence, the ardour that kindles animation, the kindness that wins affection, while,
at the same time, he was able to exhibit before his pupils the fruits of a long and
profound research, of an extensive and proiitable intercourse with the world, and
of great experience in the business of instruction. He taught much also by exam-
ple. He exhibited a vast memory, and showed the pupil how it might be acquired.
He urged the importance of observing and i-etaining facts, explained the princi-
ples of association and the various arts which would contribute to fix them in the
mind, and also displayed in his reasonings and illustrations both the efficacy of
his rules, and the utility of the practice which he so earnestly recommended. If
he insisted on the importance of thinking in a train, and of adhering to an exact
method in the arrangement of one's acquisitions, and in communicating his
thoughts to others, the value of these directions he proved by the readiness with
which he assembled his own thoughts to elucidate a point in discussion, and the
clearness with which he unfolded them.
^-— In his deportment towards the students, so well did he maintain the post of
/ real dignity, that while the most timid approached him with confidence., tiie
/ boldest were awed into profound respect. His feelings towards them all were
I truly paternal. His counsels, his warnings, his solicitude, his sympathy, were
\ entirely in unison with such feelings. The student who uuiformly merited appro-
1 bation was encouraged by his smiles; he who had only been surprised into some
1 unaccustomed neglect or violation of duty, was reproved in a gentle and persuasive
I tpne; but the incorrigible offender trembled at his voice.
r"Aii a preacher, President Dwight's manner was distinct, forcible, and free from
any appearance of affectation, either in action or utterance. It will not be diffi-
pult to discriminate the peculiar features of his pulpit eloquence. His voice Avas
/Unusually heavy and sonorous. Its inflections were highly musical and agreeable,
{but limited to a comparatively small number. A very strong and frequent
emphasis, though it imparted dignity, conspired with some uniformity of tones,
occasionally to tire the ear and to lull attention. At times, however, he rose to
an almost unequalled height, and exhibited some of the finest specimens of pulpit
oratory. Whenever his mind was filled with peculiar transport, as in contempla-
ting the capacities and employments of the holy angels and glorified saints, his
eloquence resembled a mighty stream, flowing majestically through meadows of
living verdure or groves of spices and golden fruits : whenever he was roused by
viewing the awful nature and consequences of the Infidel Philosophy, it resembled
the same stream, augmented to a mighty flood, and hurrying its way onward in
an overwhelming torrent.
In his manners, President Dwight was, in the highest degree, dignified, affable,
and polite. Like Johnson, he shone no where with brighter lustre than in the
circle of friends he loved, when the glow of animation lighted up his countenance,
and a perpetual stream of knowledge and wisdom flowed from his lips. As his
was a life of observation and reflection, rather than of secluded study, his acquisi-
tions were all practical; they were all at hand, ready to enrich and adorn hi.s
conversation. In Theology and Ethics, in Natural Philosophy and Geography,
in History and Statistics, in Poetry and Philosoph}', in Ilusbandrj^ and Domestic
Economy, his treasures seemed alike inexhaustible. Interesting narration, vivid
description, and sallies of hixmonr; anecdotes of tlie just, the good, the generous,
the brave, the eccentric — these all were blended in fine proportions to form the
bright and varied tissue of his discourse. Alive to all the sympathies of friend-
ship, faithful to its claims, and sedulous in performing its duties, he was beloved
TIMOTHY D WIGHT. JQJ
by many from early life witli whom he entered on the stage, and whom, as
Shakspeare says, he " grappled to his soul Avith hooks of steel." I think it may
safely be said that those who gained the most intimate access to him, whether
associates, or pupils, or amaniicnses, admired, revered, and loved him mo.st.
No love of study and abstraction ever detached him long from his family, or
prevented his taking the deepest interest in their welfare. The multiplicity of his
engagements did not hinder his being to the partner of his bosom, with whom he
had been united from early life, a tender and affectionate companion. Ilis
t;hildren approached him with reverence, but still with the utmost freedom, — dailv
sharing his conversation and receiving his counsel. Nothing which promoted
their enjoyment or gave them pain, was too minute to affect his feelings. His"
brothers and sisters also, and more remote connections, uniformly received the
proofs and benefits of his strong attachment. Indeed the humblest domestic in
. his household regarded him with an attachment almost flhal, and received a cor-
respondent return from his feeling and benevolent heart.
I remain, dear Sir, very truly yours,
DENISON OLMSTED.
FROM THE REV. NATHANIEL W. TAYLOR, D. D.,*
PROFESSOR IN THE THEOLOGICAL SCHOOL CONNECTED WITH TALE COLLEGE.
Yale College, February 20. 1844.
My dear Sir: It would give me great pleasure to comply with your request in
relation to 3'our proposed sketch of Dr. Dwight, were I confident that I could say
any thing which would essentially subserve your design. I will commit to paper
a few thoughts as they occur to me, and you can make whatever use of them you
may think proper.
Dr. Dwight, in original powers, in mental acquisitions, and especially inelegant
literature, was acknowledged to hold a place scarcely second to any of his con-
temporaries. If there were some other stars equally bright, there were scarcely
any whose place was equally high. I think I never knew the man who took so
deep an interest in every thing, — the best mode of cultivating a cabbage, as well
as the phenomena of the heavens or the employments of angels. Attention, —
stretching his mind in every direction, made him so great.
At the same time, I think there was still more to be admired in his character as
a minister and a Christian. Nothing is plainer to my mind, (and I can speak
from a long and intimate acquaintance with him,) than that, though by nature an
ambitious and proud man, loving greatly distinction and influence, and claiming
superiority above others, which was so extensivelj^ conceded, — his talents, his
acquisitions, his influence, were conscientiously devoted to the cause for which the
Son of God lived and died. His heart was in this cause. He was — what those
who knew him less than I did, would perhaps not so readily admit — pre-eminently
a conscientious, disinterested man, under the influence of a deep and earnest piet}'.
without the least pretence or affectation of sanctity. His character has often
presented itself to my admiration and love; but never so impressively as under the
aspect of so much greatness controlled by so much principle.
Passing over his strong attachment to the S3'stem of religious faith held by the
Puritan fathers, as well as the deep interest which he took in revivals of religion, — I
both of which, however, were prominent features of his religious character, — k,
may notice his earnest desire and vigorous efforts to increase the means of theolo-
gical education. He always advised and even urged young men, — when the
fashion was to be licensed to preach within a few months, or even weeks, after
they were graduated, to remain and study Theology, at least for one or two years.
It was in compliance with his counsel that I did so, though it was a thing nearly
* This and the two following letters were addressed to me with reference to a more extended
notice of Dr. Dwight than the present, but they have not before been published.
Vol.. II. 21
IQ2 TlilNlTAlilAN CUNGUEGATIONAL.
or quite uiiprccedenU'il, and though my elassmatos, ami evon miiiistcrs, iigankd
it as lime and lahnur liltle belter tlian kist. IJut Dr. Uwight, in his views of t'lia
suhject, was i^really in advanee of most of his eonleniporaries. To him I lliink
is jire-i'ndnently to Itc traced the };reat jjrngress'of theoloj^ical education, especi-
ally in New Kiifrland, for the last tiiirty or forly years. Wiien I was his amanu-
ensis, he told me tliat he had long had it in his heart to extend the means of .i
ihorougli pre[)aralion for the ministry in tliis College; that, in consequence of liis
wislies on liiis sulyect, his eldest .'^on, Timothy Dwight, E.sq., of this city, had
then api>roi)riated a certain stock in trade, with its profits, to the estaldishmenl of
a I'roles.sorship of Theology in tiie College. It was this which resulted in the
present extended theological department. 1 think he did much, though I cannot
.'^ay exactly how much, in getting up the institution at Andover. 1 remeniber
well that 1 was with him when the project was started. Doctors Morse and
.Spring came from .Massachu.setts to consult him on this subject, when the first
donations were ollercd for the purpose. I lieard much of their conversation
with lum. He entered into the subject with the deepest interest, unfolding
his views of the advantages and necessity of such an institution; and seemed to
exult as an eye witness of its great and blessed results. The gentlemen were
evidently greatly influenced by liLs views in their determination to go forward with
the enterprise. I remember his stating to them distinctl}' his own plans in regard
lo extending the means of theological education in this College; and particularly
of his saying that, :?liould the time come wiien this siiould be done, and the gradu-
ates of Yale should be induced to pursue theological study here, it must not U'
considered as interfering with their undertaking.
His support of missions, and especially his elforts for the establishment of an
American Bible Society, deserve to be recorded. 1 would not venture to say that
the latter institution is to be traced to him as its author; but I can say, not only
that he was the first person from whom I heard any thing on the subject, but that
lie evidently supposed that none else had thought of it. State Bible Societies
were already established; but any thing nafiona/ in such matters was a novel
idea; and when it was first talked of, was treated, to a great extent, as chimerical.
Dr. Dwight conversed on the subject with ministers and others, and, if I mistake
not, corresponded with some distinguished individuals in the Presbyterian Church.
The countenance and encouragement which he gave to young men, formed
another most interesting feature of his character. He not (udy never failed to
cheer and encourage the desponding and distrustful young man, but he often took
l)ains to raise still higher the hopes and aspirations of those of whose talents and
worth he had formed a favourable opinion. I know of more than one whq has
sucx;eeded well in life, because, through Dr. Dwight's influence, ho was led to a
suitable appreciation of his own powers. 1 can speak on this ])oint somewhat
from experience. 1 came to College very young; my health failed; and I lost
three years from study. When I came the last time, (for I entered three dillcrent
classes,) it was rather to gratify my parents, than with any expectation or inten-
tion of being a .scholar; for, though 1 had previously felt an intense interest in
study, I had by that time entirely lost it. Occasionally, however, my emulation
was .stirred; but it was to little purpose, as 1 had abandoned the thought of either
doing or being much in future life. In my Senior year, I read as an exercise
before Dr. Dwight, an argument on the question — "Is virtue founded in utility.'" —
a question in which he always felt a peculiar interest. To tho.'^c who preceded rae
he said, " Oh, you do not understand the question;" hut when I had finished my
argument, he remarked with great emphasis, — " That's right," and added some
other ^ommcndator}' remarks which, to saj' the least, were adapted to put a young
man's modesty to rather a .severe test. But it certainly had one good effect — it
determined me to make intellectual efforts, whifh, otherwise, I probably never
should have made; not to say the very kind which, above all others, I love to
TIMOTHY DWIGUT. 263
make. When I received a call to the church in this city, which I, in every suitable
way, tried to avoid accepting. Dr. Dwight was verv an.xious that I .should accept
it. I told him frankly my principal objection. You know the great popularity
of my predecessor in that pulpit; and I told Dr. Dwight that, if I were settled
there, 1 could expect nothing else than that I should be dismissed within a year.
" Why so ?" said he. " Because," replied I, " I cannot satisfy the demands of
the people as a preacher." He thought I could. I said, " I think not without a
miracle." He answered with emphasis, " You do not know what you can do.
No young man of even respectalde talents knows what he can do, and hence, in
many cases, they do .so little. Believe me," said he, " I have no fears of the issue,
and I know much better what you, can do, than you know yourself" After 1 was
.settled, I was occasionally at the end of the matter as to sermons, — not exactly
sermons, but such sermons as I was willing to preach. Once, after having preached
several Fast sermons, (for the demand for these was pretty frequent in those days,)
I went to him and told him in much depres.sion, that I could not write another
that would be fit to preach. " Whj'," said he, "you are in as biad a plight as
President Edwards said he once was, when he could not find another text in the
Bible on which he could make a sermon." He asked me if I had thought of a
subject, — text, — plan. I mentioned to him that I had three or four, which, b}'
his request, I repeated to him. *' Which, on the Avhole," said he, "do you like
best .'" When 1 had named it, he said, " Go to your study, ask the Divine
blessing, and make as good a sermon as you can on that text, and it will be good
enough." 1 did so; and, with thecheerful courage which he inspired, I succeeded in
making an effort, which, otherwise, I think. I could not have made. After a while
I gotover these fits of despondency, and no one can tell how much I owe to him for it.
I may notice also his efforts to bring the religion of the Gospel to educated
minds. To appreciate these one needs to know how extensively this class of
minds had come to regard religion as a thing fitted only for the lowest of the
people. Before the entire community he stood up boldly, — in the face of the
greatest of them, greater than they. Many of them, it is true, died infidels;
some, however, after ceasing to despise religion, have been hopefulh' converted;
several, since Tuy own ministr}^ began. He took great pains not only to elevate
preaching, that it might command the respect of this class of men, but also to
direct the religious reading of students and of the community around him. No
man seemed to appreciate more highly the right sort of books, .taking the standard
of taste, .style, &c., into the account. You know how current, nt one time, was
what may be called metaphysical preaching — didl, dry, tedious, and, to a great
extent, u.seless. Dr. Dwight, I think, by his own preaching and instructions, di<l
more to effect the requisite change in relation to this,. and to bring jircnching to
bear on the higher clas.ses, and on all elas.scs, (though the lower clas.»:os are not
now reached by our preachers as they .should be,) than perliajjs any other mnn nf
his day, at least in New England.
I might go on in a similar mode of specification respecting other part.s of his
character. His humility and condescension, when suitable occasions occurred,
were in my view strikingly conspicuous. Tf Burke could learn something even
from his hostler in his stable. Dr. Dwight could, for as good a reason, talk familiarly
with any servant in his kitchen. T knew him once show as much interest in a
theological conversation with Mr. H , the college joiner, as he woidd have
done with the profoundest Divine; and often with him, and with other goorl men
like him, in the humblest walks of life, he aj)parently took as much ]>leasurc in
conver.sation as with men of cultivated minds. But (he interest he took in youth.
— even in little children, — T may sav in all classes, on the subject of per.sonal reli-
gion, was, I think, remarkalde. After. indulging the Christian hope in some faint
degree, while a Junior in College, I had verv manv doiibts and tierplexitics respect-
ing my religious character. These 1 had often stated to Dr. Dwight. When I
164 TRmiTARIAN CONGREGATION' AL.
was his amanuensis, he took a deep interest in ine on this account, and wonkl
often introduce the subject as one on wliich he knew I was glad to hear and to
learn. On one or two occasions, wishing evidently to encourage m}- hojje, he Mas
led to speak of his own. This conversation I could relate substantially, if it were
desirable to do so. I will only say of it, that it was one of the most affecting and
instructive that I ever heard on the subject. His own heart melted under it, and
the tears flowed freely.
I do not think his powers as an extempore preacher were fully appreciated. I
might assign the reasons for this. But without prolonging this detail, I will only
say that, on some few occasions, I have heard him in an off-hand speech, surpass-
ingly eloquent; — far exceeding any thing in himself, when preaching his most
eloquent written discourses.
One thing more occurs to me as perhaps worthy of notice. Dr. Dwight told
me that, when a young man, he was, on the subject of Christian resignation, a
thorough-going Hopkinsian; — that he wrote a long Dissertation in support of that
doctrine, and read it to Dr. Hopkins, who strenuously urged Its publication.
" But," said he, " I concluded to keep it, and think of the matter longer; and the
result was, I put it in the fire." His tendencies in early life were to extremes, —
the result of an ardent, sanguine temperament; but he was a striking instance in
Avhich natural foibles and tendencies are corrected by reflection, good sense, and
good principles, and are made to result in great excellence and perfection of
character.
I am yours affectionately,
N. W. TAYLOR
FROM THE HON. ROGER MINOT SHERMAN,
JUDGE OF THE SUPREME COURT OF CONNECTICUT.
Fairfield, Conn., February 7, 1844.
My dear Sir: While I was a Tutor in Yale College, Dr. Dwight became the
President. My acquaintance with him was intimate and continued during the
residue of his life. Those distinguishing characteristics of his mind and heart,
which gave him eminence, were constantly exhibited in his daily intercourse with
society. His mind was richly stored with knowledge on subjects scientific and
practical. When in company, he led conversation, and little would be said by
any but himself. This was not the result of vanity or conceit on his part, but of
the disposition manifested by others in his presence to hear rather than to speak.
His mind was both profound and brilliant; his discourse sentimental and instruc-
tive; his manner animated, and his colloquial style easj^and elegant.' I have seen
him in social circles among some of the most distinguished men of our country.
There too he would lead the conversation. I have noticed but one exception.
That was the late Chief Justice Ellsworth. Whenever he was present, Dr.
Dwight, in his turn became a listener, and his remarks were generally in the form
of interrogatories.
At the time he became President, infidelity, the ofispring of the French school,
was extensively prevalent among the undergraduates, and throughout this State.
Laymen of distinction generally, and our most eminent lawyers especially, were
its advocates. The high reputation of Dr. Dwight attracted these men, when the
Legislature and Courts were in session at New Haven, into the College chapel.
Such occasions were improved by him to meet the prevailing errors of the day.
This he did, not by reproaches, but by sound argument and overwhelming elo-
quence. The effect was wonderful. The new philosophy lost its attractions. In
Connecticut it ceased to be fashionable or even reputable; and the religion of the
I'ilgrims, which was fearfully threatened with extermination, regained its respect-
ability and influence. The character of the College was restored; and its increas-
ing numbers, gathered from all parts of the United States, extended an influence
TIMOTHY D WIGHT. Igg
over the nation, which, I trust, will be felt for centuries to come. I often expressed
the opinion, which length of time has continually strengthened, that no man except
" the Father of his Country," had conferred greater benefits on our nation than
President D wight.
Upon the subject of politics he was unreserved and decided. He always
espoused the principles of the Federalists, in opposition to those of the school of
Jefferson. This was not as a partisan, but from an honest conviction of the recti
tude of the great constitutional principles which were adopted by Washington,
Hamilton, and the other distinguished men of that class, who formed and first admin-
istered the national government. He viewed the contest as a struggle between the
friends of law and order, on the one part, and those, on the other, who favoured
the licentiousness of the French Revolution. He was a strong friend of liberty;
but considered law, constitutionally enacted and justly administered, as its only
preservative; and he regarded that freedom which elevates the people above the
laws made and administered by their own oflBcers, as its most dangerous enemy.
My high regard for Dr. Dwight and strong approval of his sentiments and
character have led me to these remarks; and if tliey should be irrelevant to the
particular object of your inquiries, I hope you will excuse it.
Accept, dear Sir, assurances of my high and sincere esteem.
ROGER M. SHERMAN.
FROM THE HON. JOHN COTTON SMITH,
GOVERNOR OF CONNECTICUT.
Sharon, February 13, 1844.
Rev. and dear Sir: My intercourse Avith President Dwight was official, rather
than intimate and confidential. Indeed our acquaintance with each other was not
particular, until after my entrance into public life; and even then, as the session
of our Legislature at New Haven occurred during the autumnal vacation of Col-
lege, the Doctor was generally absent on an excursion for his health. During the
several years I was in Congress, I scarcely enjoyed an annual glimpse of him.
Although our interviews became more frequent while I occupied the Executive
chair of the State, and was ex officio a member of the Corporation of the College,
yet you are sensible there is more of form than of familiarity in the meetings of
such bodies. Still I have been favoured with the means of forming an estimate
of his character; and a very high estimate it has been. He was not only an
accomplished gentleman, but a ripe scholar, a profound theologian, and an
eloquent Divine. He had a mind equally well adapted to soar in flights of sacred
poesy, and to penetrate the depths of metaphysics; — a mind so wonderfully con-
stituted, as to dictate to two and even three amanuenses at the same time, on as
many distinct subjects, and keep them all busily employed. Nor were his collo-
quial qualities less remarkable. So fascinating was he in social intercourse, that,
although he gave to others full opportunity to take their share in the conversation ,
they would rarely avail themselves of the privilege, unless for the purpose of
suggesting some new topic, or eliciting some further information.
I will only add that I regret my inability to contribute any thing of importance
in aid of your object, while I heartily rejoice in every effort to extend and per-
petuate the fame of that illustrious man.
I am. Rev. and dear Sir,
Very respectfully, your obedient servant,
JOHN COTTON SMITH.
]6(i TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ISAAC STOCKTON KEITH, D. D *
1778—1813.
Isaac Stockton Kkitii, the sou of William and Margaret Keith, was
born in Newtown, Bucks county, Pennsylvania, January 20, 1755. His
parents were exemplary members of the Presbyterian church, and were
particularly attentive to the religious education of their children. As this
son early gave indications of a more than comraon intellect, and was much
inclined to devote himself to books, the parents determined to give him the
advantages of a collegiate education. Accordingly, at the age of fourteen,
he was sent to the grammar school at Princeton, and having gone through
his preparatory studies there, he became a member of the College, — Doctor
Witherspoon being then President, — and graduated in 1775, at the age of
twenty. It was during his connection with the grammar school that his
mind became permanently impressed with religious truth ; and his whole
course from that period, both in the grammar school and in College, was
marked with great circumspection and with every evidence of an humblis
and devout spirit.
Shortly after he was graduated, he accepted an invitation to teach a Latin
school at Elizabethtown, N. J. But though he discharged his duties as a
teacher much to the satisfaction of both his employers and his pupils, he
did not remain in this einployment long, as he was unwilling to be detained
from what had then become the commanding object of his life — the Christian
ministry. On retiring from the school, he placed himself under the care
of the Rev. Robert Smith, of Lancaster county, Penn., and pursued his
theological studies in conformity to his directions, while residing at his
father's house.
In the autumn of 1778, having previously put himself under the care of
the Presbytery of Philadelphia, he received from that body a license to
preach the Grospel. The succeeding winter he was engaged in a sort of
mission ; but he returned in the spring to his father's, suffering from a
severe and dangerous affection of the liver. The manner of his recovery
was remarkable. A blister was applied near his shoulder blade, and the
matter which had collected internally, and occasioned him intense pain,
was thereby discharged ; and this was followed by an almost immediate
restoration.
In March, 178U, the Presbyterian congregation of Alexandria, to whom
he had previously preached, being vacant, unanimously invited him to
become their pastor. He accepted the call and was ordained by the Presby-
tery of Philadelphia, with a view to take the pastoral charge of that church.
On the 30th of May, 1780, he received his dismission from the Presbytery
of Philadelphia to that of Donnegall, with which the church at Alexandria
was at that time connected. He had previously declined a call from the
church in Allentown, New Jersey.
Notwithstanding he had recovered, in a good degree, from the illness
already referred to, he had by no means reached his wonted measure of
bodily vigour; but, in the autumn of 1784, his constitution became still
• Yeadon's Hist, of the Circular Church, Charleston. — Biography prefixed to his Sermons.
ISAAC STOCKTON KEITH.
167
more enfeebled by a violent attack of fever. His religious exercises at this
period, as indicated by a letter that is still preserved, show that he was
disposed to take the most serious view of this afflictiou, aud that his chief
desire was that it might minister to his spiritual improvement and promote
the great ends of his ministry. On his recovery from this illness, he pro-
posed the formation of a .Society to consist of Christians of different donomi-
nations, that should meet at stated periods for the purpose of religious
conference and devotion. The constitution for such a Society was found
among his papers ; but it is not now known whether the plan was ever carried
into effect.
In the year 1788, Mr. Keith received a call to settle as colleague pastor
with the Kev. William Hollingshead, over the Independent or Congre'^a-
tional church in Charleston, South Carolina. After some hesitation on his
part, and amidst the deep regrets and remonstrances of his congregation, he
finally determined to accept the call. Accordingly, ou the 16th of Septem-
ber, the pastoral relation was dissolved by the Presbytery of Baltimore,
who " recommended him very affectionately, as a valuable evangelical
minister of the fairest character," His introductory sermon at Charleston
was preached on the 30th of I^ovember, and was published, — though not
till after his decease.
In 1791, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from
the University of Pennsylvania.
Dr. Keith's ministry in Charleston was continued through a period of
upwards of twenty-five years. On the 13th of December, 1813, he attended
a meeting of the Charleston Bible Society, of v^hich he had been a Vice
President from its formation, and spoke with great earnestness in favour of
sending the Scriptures to ihe destitute French in Louisiana, in their
native language. Within thirty hours from that time he had made his
passage through the dark valley. He died at the age of about fifty-nine.
A Sermon on occasion of his death was delivered at the request of the Mana-
gers of the Charleston Bible Society, by the Rev. Dr. Flinn, from Psalm
XII, 1. It was published.
Dr. Keith was married, shortly after his settlement in Charleston, to
Hannah, daughter of the Rev. Dr. Sproat of Philadelphia. She died on
the 30th of September, 1796. His second wife, to whom he was married
on the 3d of April, 1798, was Catharine, daughter of Thomas Legare of
Charleston. She died of a lingering disease on the 15th of May, 1803. His
last wife was Jane Huxham, a native of Devonshire in England, and
daughter of William Huxham, who had resided many 3'ears in South
Carolina.
As Dr. Keith had no children, and yet had an estate of about thirty
thousand dollars, he manifested his interest in various good objects by the
liberal bequests which he made in aid of them. To the Grcneral Assembly
of the Presbyterian Church he gave twenty-five hundred dollars. To each
child bearing his own name, or that of either of liis wives, (about twenty in
number,) he bequeathed a copy of Scott's Commentary on the Bible. To
the church of which he was co-pastor, he bequeathed about five thousand
dollars, with the request that the income alone should be expended for pious
purposes.
Dr. Keith published about half a dozen sermons and addresses delivered
on special occasions during his life ; and these, witli two or three others
2gg TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
together also with the sermon occasioned by his death, a brief biographical
notice of him, and a somewhat extended selection from his correspondence,
were published in a volume in the year 1810.
FROM THE REV. EDWARD PALMER.
Walterboro', S. C, April 20, 185:^..
My dear Six : The venerable man concerning whom you inquire is associated
■with some of my earliest and warmest recollections, having been my revered and
beloved pastor to the day of his death. 1 knew him very intimately, and I think
I shall be in little danger of mistaking in regard to the prominent features of his
character.
The personal appearance of Dr. Keith was imposing. Large in stature, digni-
fied in manner, grave in aspect and in speech, it was impossible not to feel that
you were in the presence of a much more than ordinary man. But, notwithstand-
ing his appearance and manner were such as to repel every thing like frivolity, he
was so courteous and affable as to invite the confidence of the most timid child.
Indeed the aifeetionate freedom with which the young of his numerous flock actu-
ally approached him, showed how easy of access he really was. They looked up
to him as a father, and he seemed to regard them as his children. Never can
those of us who repaired weekly to his house for catechetical instruction, forget
the paternal solicitude which he always manifested towards us, as the lambs of
his flock, or the benedictions he was wont to pronounce upon us, as we left his
presence and his dwelling. Alas! but few remain to call up these pleasant
reminiscences.
Dr. Keith's example was in beautiful keeping with his religious profession — it
was an epistle of Christ known and read of all men. Generous to a high
degree, his heart was open to the calls of distress, his house to the stranger, his
purse to the needy. The sick and afflicted always found in him a ready friend and
substantial helper. He wept with those that wept, as well as rejoiced with those
that rejoiced.
As a preacher, he undoubtedly held a high rank among the able preachers of this
country. His views of Christian doctrine, which were fully in accordance with
the Westminster Assembly's Catechism, he exhibited with clearness and power, —
Jesus Christ and Him crucified always being held up as the life and substance of
the Gospel. His discourses were well elaborated, and his applications were direct
and pungent. In his prayers there was an uncommon degree of fervour and
unction. You could not resist the impression that he was in close personal com-
munion with the glorious Being whom he was professedly addressing.
For scarcely any thing was Dr. Keith more remarkable than for noticing and
turning to good account the passing dispensations of Providence. Never did any
peculiarly striking event occur, but that his hearers went to church the next Sab-
bath in the confident expectation of its being made the subject of a well digested
and judicious train of reflection. lie had also a most happy facility at adapting
himself to the spiritual wants of individuals, especially at conversing with the
inquiring and awakened of his flock. It were difficult to say whether his tender-
ness or fidelity was more prominent in these conversations; but his manner was
such as to invite their confidence, and they always found in him a safe and excellent
counsellor.
Neither was he deficient in reproving where reproof was needed; though he
always performed this delicate oflBce with a mildness and discretion, that left no
room for offence. One incident now occurs to me as an illustration. Happening
on a Sabbath, after the services of the morning, to be in company with a number
of friends, most of whom were professors of religion, the conversation, as too
frequently happens, had imperceptibly glided into subjects of mere worldly inter
ISAAC STOCKTOM KEITH. 269
est. The Doctor, feeling that the}' were going too far, mildly interposed by
saying — " Well, friends, if j'ou please, we will defer the present discussion till the
next Sabbath." All felt rebuked, while none took offence.
Dr. Keith's loss was deeply felt in every circle in which he had moved. Among
the demonstrations of grief attending his funeral, one of the most touching was
that of a venerable minister of the Episcopal Church bending over his lifeless form,
and exclaiming with a profusion of tears, — " I have known a multitude of minis-
ters of various denominations, both in Europe and America, but never have 1
known a more faithful servant of Jesus than this dear saint."
In Gospel bonds, yours truly,
EDWARD PALMER.
SAMUEL A^OOD, D. D*
1779—1836.
Samuel Wood, the son of Joseph and Ellen (Palmer) Wood, was born
at Mansfield, Coun., May 11, 1752. He was the eldest of a family of
thirteen children. His parents were worthy and pious persons, whose first
desire in respect to their children was, that they might grow up in the fear
and love of God. Before he was five years old, by the Divine blessing
accompanying the instructions and counsels of his faithful mother, he was
brought to serious consideration ; and there is reason to believe that religion
was then formed, as an abiding principle, in his soul. From that time, ho
always evinced a great dread of sin in all its forms ; and seemed to delight
in all those spiritual and devout exercises, which peculiarly mark a state of
reconciliation to God. At the age of eleven, his mind was thrown, for a
time, into great perplexity and darkness, from having heard some friend of
his father's relate his experience, in which was included a much deeper con-
viction of sin than he had himself ever felt ; and he was led in view of this,
to question the genuineness of his own religious exercises altogether. He
was, however, soon relieved from his despondenc}^ by reading a book, enti-
tled, " The sound believer," — which corrected his misapprehensions in
respect to the evidence of true piety, and gave him brighter views of the
Gospel plan of salvation than he had had before.
When he was in his fourteenth year, his father removed his family from
Connecticut to Lebanon, N. H., then a wilderness, with a view to accom-
modate his numerous children with land for settlement. Previous to this,
the son had indulged the hope that Providence might open the way for his
introduction to the ministry ; but this change of residence operated, in no
small degree, as a damper upon his hopes ; for, as he was the eldest son, he
saw that his father's dependance would he chiefly upon him, in clearing up
the forest. He had not, at that time, made a profession of religion ; but,
in consequence of the death of his youngest brother, which occurred in his
father's absence from home, he became deeply impressed with his obliga-
tion to do so, and was prevented only by the fact that there was then no
• Price's Fun. Serm. — MS. from Dr. Bouton.
Vol. II. 22
J70 TIllNITAUIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
church in the iinnieiliate neighbourhood with whieh lie couW connect him-
self.
Things, however, began scon to assume a more encouraging aspect. Dart-
mouth College was established at Hanover, within about six miles of his
father's farm. A church was formed at Lebanon, and the llev. Isaiah
]'otter* was settled as its pastor. Young Wood was one of the original
iiieinbers of the church, and Itecame such at the age of eighteen.
Ho seems, at no period, to have relintiuished the purpose of ultimately
entering the ministry ; but it was not till he was about twenty-two, that he
found it practicable to commence his preparation for it. He prosecuted his
preparatory studies under the instruction of his friend and pastor, the llev.
Mr. Potter, and in August, 1775, entered Dartmouth College, being then
in his twenty-fourth year. He graduated with the highest honours of his
class in 1779. His Valedictory Address, delivered on that occasion, on the
"importance of education," was considered a production of rare merit, aud
was afterwards printed.
As Mr. Wood had kept the ministry in view during his whole collegiate
course, his studies, especially in the last year, were directed with reference
to it ; so that he may be said to have graduated with almost the requisite
qualifications for the ministry, according to the standard of qualification
which then prevailed. Within about seven weeks after his graduation, ho
was licensed to preach, and delivered his first sermon at Lebanon, on the
morning of the following Sabbath, from John Xll. 21. — " Sir, we would
see Jesus." At the close of the service, two men, who had listened to his
discourse, met him with the inquiry, — "What nmst I do to be saved?"
In 1780, he was married to Eunice, daughter of llezekiah Bliss, of
Lebanon, who also had then recently removed from Connecticut. Shortly
after his marriage, he journeyed with his wife to Connecticut, where he
spent some time in preaching, and received an invitation to a permaneni
settlement, which, however, he declined.
In the spring of 1781, he was invited to preach six months at Boscawen,
N. H., and he consented to do so. notwithstanding the field of labour was
considered as, in some respects, very unpromising. The result was that, in
October following, having accepted a call from the church and society in
that place, he was set apart to the ministry there by the usual solcnmities.
The year after his settlement (1782) was signalized by an extensive revi-
val of religion in his congregation, in consequence of which, between tliirty
and forty heads of families were added to the church. Other similar scenes
were witnessed, from time to time, under his ministry. His ministerial con-
nection with the town of Boscawen continued till May, 1802, — nearly
twenty-one years ; when, from a combination of circumstances and by
mutual consent, his civil contract with the town was dissolved, tliough his
pastoral relation to the church still continued. A new society was soon
formed in connection with the church of which he was pastor ; and though,
in consequence of this change, he found himself in a smaller parish, he con-
tinued to labour as diligently as ever, and was increasingly respected both
at home and abroad.
• Isaiah Potter was bom in Plymouth, Conn., in 1746; wa.s graduated at Yale College in
1767; was ordained first pa.?tor of the church in Lebanon, N. II., in August, 1772; retired
from active service Sei)tcmber If, 1810; and died by his own hand in August, 1817, aged
seventy-one. He published a Masonic Sermon delivered at Hanover, 1802.
SAMUEL WOOD. 171
In 1820, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon hira by
the Trustees of Dartmouth College.
In the spring of 1828. he was attacked by a violent disease, which, fur
some time, seemed likely to reach a fatal issue. His mind, during this
period, retained its full vigour, and was cheered by the actings of a triumph-
ant faith. Contrary tu expectation, he survived this illness, and, after a
few weeks, was able to return to his accustomed duties, though his constitu-
tion underwent a shock from which it never fully recovered.
In October, 1S31, Dr. Wood preached a sermon containing an outline of
the history of the church, of which, for half a century, he had been pastor.
Tu it he states that the church had been favoured with ten revivals, four or
live of which were extensive.
In 1832, having become too infirm to discharge all the duties devolving
upon him as pastor of the church, a movement was made towards the set-
tlement of a colleague, the result of which was, that the Rev. Salmon Ben-
nett was installed as colleaguo pastor in December of that year. 3Ir.
Bennett, having been thus associated with him four years, was dismissed by
a mutual council, so that Dr. Wood again became sole pastor, at the age of
eighty-four.
Tho increase of labour and responsibility now devolved upon him, proved
too much for a constitution already greatly enfeebled by age ; and it soon
became apparent that the time of his departure was at hand. On the week
] receding his death, he stated to a friend who called upon him, that he had
just been preparing a sermon to preach the next Sabbath, on the death of
an aged brother ; and that sermon he actually delivered on the last Sab-
bath he spent on earth. His text seemed not only significant, but almost
prophetic : — " I must work the works of Hira that sent me while it is day ;
the night Cometh when no man can work." And after the shadows of the
night of death seemed to have gathered around him, and every thing indi-
cated that his last words had already been uttered, he was enabled to say
with an air of heavenly serenity, — "All is well;" and then the spirit fled.
He died December 24, 1836, aged eighty-four years.
Dr. Wood was blessed, during much the greater part of his life, with
vigorous health. He was a man of remarkably active habits, and the time
which was not spent in his study or his parish, was devoted to his garden or
his farm. From the time he commenced preaching till he was seventy years
old, he never lost but three Sabbaths by sickness ; and but nine, until he
was seventy-eight. He was a good classical scholar, and was an eflficient
promoter of all the great interests of education. He was instrumental of
establishing a library in the town; for twenty years officiated gratuitously
as Superintendent of schools ; and exerted an important influence, and
made a liberal donation, towards the establishment of Boscawen Academy.
In the course of his ministry, he fitted about one hundred young men for
College, of whom nearly fifty became ministers, and about twenty, lawyers.
He entered with great zeal into the various benevolent o])crations of the
day, contributing cheerfully and liberally of both his influence and his sub-
stance for their promotion. He was greatly respected by the community at
large, as well as by his brethren in the ministry.
Dr. Wood published a Sermon at the ordination of Benjamin Wood,
1796 ; a Sermon on the Public Fast, 1804.
172 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Dr. Wood had a brother, Benjamin, who was also a highly respectable
uiinister. He was born in Lebauon, N. H., Seiiteniber 15, 1772 ; fitted for
College under the instruction of his brother Saniuol ; was graduated at
Dartmouth in 1793; studied Theology partly under the direction of his
brotlier, and partly under that of Dr. Emmons ; was ordained pastor of
the church at Upton, Ma.^s., June 1, 1790 ; and died April 24, 1849. aged
seventy-six. He was married to Betsey Dustin of llaverliill, and after lier
death, to Almira Howe. He liad seven children, lie jjublishod a .Sermon
delivered at Upton, 179G ; a Sermon on the death of Mrs. Rachel Kuggk>
1811 ; a Sermon at Sutton at the formation of an Education Society, 1812;
a Masonic Address at Uxbridge, 1819; a Masonic Discourse at Milford,
1820 ; a Sermon on Baptism, 1823 ; a Masonic Address at Holden, 1825.
FROM THE REV. N. BOUTON, D. D.
Concord, N. II., December 10, 1849.
Rev. and dear Sir: I became acquainted with Dr. Samuel Wood, then a father
n; the ministry, in 1825, when he was about seventy-three years of age. I wa.-;
at once struck with liis venerable appearance, — his hoary lock.s, bright blue eyes,
and placid countenance, and his humble and modest demeanour. His voice wa.':
somcwliat tremulous with age, yet in preaching lie was earnest, impressive, anil
often there were flashes which showed the fire of his youth. Dr. Wood rarely
wrote out his sermons in full ; he dwelt chiefly on what he regarded the leading
doctrines of the Go.spel ; not, however, in an argumentative or abstract style, but
rather persuasive and hortatory. lie was not, in the highest sense, a great nuiti,
nor yet eminently learned, but soimd, judicious, sincere, and earnest. I used to
look upon him as a model pastor. Being a neighbouring minister, our exchanges;
and intercourse were somewhat frequent. His house was the abode of peace,
good order, and Christian hospitality. His aged partner, who is still living, at
the age of about ninety-three, partook of his excellent spirit and shared in all his
joj'S and sorrows. Having no children of his own, he seemed to regard his
church and parish with paternal affection, and they reverenced him as a fatlier.
In his last will, he left all his property to his beloved wife, in consideration of her
prudence and good management in all domestic concerns, to be improved by her
during her life, and then to be inherited by his church forever.
Among the pupils of Dr. WoQd, as you may probably be aware, were Daniel
Webster, and his scarcely less gifted brother, Ezekiel. These were his pride and
crown. They ever cherished a profound respect for him as a pattern of all good
works, and as a faithful servant of Christ; and I cannot but think that when Mr.
Webster made his noble argument in defence of the Christian ministry', on the
Girard will, before the Supreme Court of the United States, the image of his
venerated teacher and pastor was full in his eye: certain it is that some of the
most eloquent and truthful passages in that splendid eulogy are but a portrait of
the Rev. Dr. Samuel Wood.
With much respect and esteem, I am yours in the Gospel,
N. BOUTON.
JONATHAN HOMER. 173
JONATHAN HOMER, D. D.
1780—1843.
FROM THE REV. ^VILLIAM JENKS, D. D.
Boston, .January 12, 1853.
My dear Sir: The late Dr. Homer was the friend of my early years, and
1 maintained an intimacy with him as long as he lived. You shall have my
estimate of his character, and the result of my inquiries in respect to the
history of his life.
The common ancestor of the family of Homer in America, as I learn from
documents obligingly furnished me by P. T. Homer, Esq., of Boston, was
John Homer, who emigrated to this country from Bristol, or the immedi-
ate neighbourhood, about 1670, and died in 1717, aged seventy, having had
uino children. From his fourth son, Michael, descended a family of seven
children, one of whom, — the second son, also named Michael, was the father
of Jonathan Homer. The father was a mason, and was the master builder,
as I have learned, of the present Old South meeting-house. From a portrait
of himself taken in his early youth, which was in possession of Dr. Homer,
I judge that the family were in comfortable circumstances, if not wealthy,
indeed the industry, frugality, and integrity, of the mechanics of Boston in
that day, were often crowned with remarkable success. Notices of this will
be seen in that interesting production of the first President Adams, in which
he reviews Davila's History of the civil wars of France.
Jonathan Homer was born in October, 1759. He was graduated at
Harvard College, after a preparation under the instruction of the well
known Master Lovell, at whose school, the British Admiral Coffin, as ho
afterwards became, was a fellow pupil ; and I am inclined to think both Mr.
(ireenough, — afterwards his near neighbour in the ministry, and Dr. Free-
man also, the latter of whom was his class-mate in College, and subsequently,
by marriage, his brother-in-law. His graduation was in 1777, and the Rev.
Dr. Bentley of Salem was a member of the same class.
From a private memorandum I gather that Dr. Homer was early impressed
with views of a serious nature, and indicated by his course of voluntary
study his future pursuits in life ; for I find him mentioning his taste for the
beauties of nature, and love of biblical research, at the age of fifteen,
Seventeen, and eighteen. In fact, he seems, in more respects than one, to
have resembled Hervey, in habits of thought and feeling ; being character-
ized by a tender piety, a warm philanthropy, a love of the beautiful both in
writing and in moral action, and a sympathy with affliction in all its forms.
I know not with whom he studied Theology, nor from what particular
Association of ministers he received his license to preach. But it appears
he was invited to settle in the New South Church of his native town, yet
declined. He afterwards accepted a call from the First Church in Newton,
and was ordained there on the 13th of February, 1782.
This was an ancient church, dating from 1662, and Mr. Homer was its
fifth pastor, — Eliot, Hobart, Cotton, and Meriam* preceding him in the
* Jonas Meriasi was bom at Lexington; was graduated at Harvard College in 17.53; waa
ordained pastor of the church in ISewton, March, 1758; and diod August l.""., 17B0, aged fifty,
lie published a .Sermon preached at Falmouth at the ordination of Tiiomas .Smith, 1764.
174 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
order I have named. But, by an afflictive dispensation in 1770, the records
of this church were destroyed in the burning of the pastor's house; and
this circumstance engaged the young pastor to gather up the fragments of
traditional information, and form a history of the town and church, which
was published in the Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society,
Vol. V, in the year 1798. Of this Society he was a member.
His discourses, if I may judge from the little I actually heard of them,
were observable more for the inculcation of practical godliness, than for deep
investigation, broad views of Theology as a science, or bold speculation and
metaphysical discussion. These I think he left, for the most pa"rt, to others.
But, aided by a silvery voice, a serious earnestness of delivery, an engaged
heart, and a blameless, benevolent life, his ministry and demeanour secured
to him many cordial friends.
Besides the faithful discharge of the duties of his office, Dr. Homor
occupied no little portion of his time in treasuring up various items of biblical
literature and criticism. He was known to be a good belles lettres scholar,
and his class-mates, Bentley of Salem and Freeman of Boston, were much
addicted to literary pursuits ; the latter especially was an expert and able
mathematician, and skilled in natural philosophy and physics, while the
former had opened a correspondence with Germany, become an adept in its
literature among the earliest of his countrymen, and collected, — being a
bachelor and so continuing, a numerous and valuable library. I have
already alluded to the fact that Dr. Freeman and Dr. Homer married sisters.
I mention these things to show the influences with which my friend was
surrounded, as illustrating his character, situation, and conduct.
But what particularly distinguished him was a scheme on which he was
providentially led to labour from the year 1824 to the end of his life.
This was to ascertain the sources of the common English version of the
Scriptures.
He had accustomed himself, even at College, and afterwards still more in
his early ministry, to note down observations on difficult texts. As this
became known, he was applied to by the publisher of "Teal's Columbian
Bible" to superintend an edition of it, and to add whatever notes and
introductions to the several books he pleased.
This employment made him regard with interest the republication in this
country, by the late Hon. S. T. Armstrong, of Scott's Commentary on the
Scriptures, or "Family Bible," and produced several letters on the subject.
At length, by the enterprise of Deacon W. Hilliard, in purchasing, on hi?
own agency, a large portion of the ancient libraries of monasteries secular-
ized in Germany, he became possessed, by purchase, of several valuable
documents, illustrating the labours of Luther and the early Reformers, in
biblical learning. To this was added by the school-mate I mentioned before, —
Admiral Coffin, the offer of procuring for him whatever aid the book market
of London might afford. A similar offer made by a kinsman residing in
England, had been accepted some years before. With all these helps for
books, which now amounted to a respectable number, the task was attempted.
And, although the whole process, and history, and result of this long con-
tinued and persevering labour has not been consigned to an appropriate
volume, as was Dr. Homer's intention, yet he recounted the matter in two
sermons delivered in Dcdham in 1835, the tercentennial anniversary of the
publication of the whole Bible in English. He has also recapitulated it in a
JONATHAN- HOMER. 175
very valuable letter to me, which was inserted in tlic supplement of the
Comprehensive Commentary, Vol. vi.
Bishop Marsh had asserted in his Lectures, that the English version of
1611, under the superintendence of King James' translators, was a compi-
lation merely. Dr. Homer, from actual and laborious examination, came
to the conclusion that this description applied to thirty-two parts of thirty-
three in that version — therefore, that one thirty-third part of it should be
accounted as originating with these translators themselves.
Not many years after his settlement, he was married to Miss Anna Curtis
of Newton. He had never but one child, a promising, amiable son, with
whom I was acquainted, and who died in 1804, — the year after his gradua-
tion at Cambridge. But he was employed as a guardian for several persons- .
both young and adult, and discharged the duties involved in this responsi-
bility with scrupulous integrity and zeal. He had also students boarding iu
his family.
By his marriage I believe he became the owner of a considerable tract of
land in New Hampshire. This occasioned him to journey thither almost
annually, — which was, I doubt not, instrumental in preserving the health of
a naturally feeble and slight frame of body. A few years previous to his
death, he was relieved of a part of the burden of his labour by the settle-
ment of the Rev. James Bates as his colleague; but, in April, 1839, he
resigned his pastoral charge altogether. He lived to a good old age, dying
on the 11th of August, 1843, and enjoying his eye sight, without artificial
aid, to the last.
la person he was of middle height, but slender, and often reminded me
of the excellent Dr. Stillman, whom, in voice also, and action, he consider-
ably resembled. On his tombstone is inscribed this sentence — " My hope is
in the mercy of God through Christ."
He received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Brown University in
1826. In Providence he had long been happily acquainted with the highly
influential family of Brown and its connections ; the pious lady of Nicholas
Brown having been an early, intimate friend of Mrs. Homer. This acquaint-
ance was cherished with religious care and pleasing results.
The following is, I believe, a list of Dr. Homer's publications : — Charac-
ter and duties of a Christian soldier : Artillery Election Sermon. 1790.
Successive generations among mankind : A Century Sermon at Newton, 1791.
Mourner's friend ; or consolation and advice offered to Christian parents on
the death of little children : A Sermon at Newton, 1792. Description and
History of Newton, [Mass. Hist. Coll. v.,] 1798. The way of God vindi-
cated : A Sermon on the death of his only child, 1804. A Sermon before
the Massachusetts Society for promoting Christian Knowledge, 1828.
The above is, I think, all that I am able to state in respect to Dr. Homer
that will be to your purpose ; and I will only add that,
T am faithfully yours.
WILLIAM JENKS.
170 ' TRINITAIIIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
LEMUEL ILVYNES *
1780—1834.
This remarkable person was born at West Hartford, Conn., July 18,
1753. In .<<uch a state of society as then existed, and still exists in thi^^
••ountry, scarcely any thing can be imagined less favourable to the prospect
of respectability and usefulnes.s, than the circumstances in which he began
his existence: he was not only poor and friendless, and in the worst sen.so
an orphan, but he was a half negro ; — his father being of unmixed African
blood, and his mother a white woman. Tlio mother, however, was black in
afar worse sense than the father; fur, though she is said to have been
respectably connected, she was cruel and base enough to abandon her own
offspring. This, however, she did not do, until she had given him the
name of the man with whom she lived, in retaliation for some real or sup-
j>used neglect.
At the age of five years, he was carried to Granville, Mass., and bound
out as a servant in an excellent family of that place. His mistress par-
ticularly soon became deeply interested in him, and treated him, according
to his own testimony, with the same affectionate attention which she bestowed
upon her own children. He in turn showed himself uniformly docile and
respectful, and before many years had passed, he was actually entrusted, in
a great degree, with the management of his master's business.
While he was yet a mere boy, he was, in two or three instances, the
subject of a signal deliverance from danger, which, though not the imme-
diate occasion of those serious impressions which issued in his hopeful con-
version, was nevertheless often alluded to by him in after life, with the
most grateful recognition of God's providential goodness. Subsefjuently to
these occurrences, — when he was about the age of nine or ten, he happened,
while serving as a plough boy, to be brought in contact with a man of
licentious principles ; and, notwithstanding all the guards with which he
had been provided through the influence of the pious family in which lie
lived, he actually began to imbibe the poison of infidelity. But the provi-
dence of God quickly provided an antidote to the influence of the scoffer.
J)cath came into his family, bereaving him of one or more of its members;
and the poor boy, whom he would fain have ruined, saw that his infidel
.system was utterly unavailing to sustain him in the hour of trouble. And
thus it turned out that, though he walked upon the snare, he was mercifully
jireserved. At a subsequent period, when he was about sixteen, he was
again placed in jeopardy from a similar cause. A professional gentleman,
who was no friend to Christianity, having removed into the place with a
small library, lent some of his books to Lemuel, and at length put into his
hands one of decidedly infidel tendency. He, however, quickly discovered
its character, and, without reading it further, returned it with a poetical
note, conveying a delicate, but richly merited, reproof for making so disin-
genuous an assault upon his principles. His thirst for knowledge, even from
his earliest years, was insatialde ; and though he enjoyed, in common witli
)ther boys of his age, the lienefit of a district school, yet his aspirations
• Cooley"s Memoir.
LEMUEL HAYNES. 177
reached much higher, and every moment of leisure that he could com-
mand, even some of the hours wliich are usually devoted to sleep, he occu-
pied most industriously in endeavouring to enlarge his mental acquisitions.
In 1775, he lost his excellent mistress, to whom, under God, he was pro-
bably more indebted than to any other person, for those impressions which
ultimately gave the complexion to his life.
The following account of his conversion is extracted from a letter written
Ly himself, in answer to the inquiries of a friend on the subject. The par-
ticular time, however, when the event referred to took place, cannot now be
ascertained,
" I remember I often had serious impressions, or fearful apprehensions of going to
liell. I spent much time in what I called secret prayer. I was one evening greatly
alarmed by the Aurora liorealis, or Northern Light. It was in that day esteemed a
presage of the day of judgment. For many days and nights I was greatly alarmed,
through fear of appealing before the bar of God, knowing that I was a sinner: I can-
not express the terrors of mind that I felt. One evening being under an apple tree,
mourning my wretched situation, I hope I found the Saviour. I always visit the
place when I come to Granville, and when I can. I pluck some fruit from the tree and
carry it home: it is sweet to my taste. I have fears at times that 1 am deceived,
but still I hope. Keading a verso in Mr. Erskine's sonnets a little strengthened me.
In describing marks of grace, he asks,
" Dost ask the place, the spot of land,
" Where Jesus did theo meet?
" And how he got thy heart and hand?
" Thy husband then was sweet ! "
Soon after I united with the church in Ea,st Granville, and was baptized by the Rev.
Jonathan Huntington,* minister or jiastor of the church at Worthington."
When the war of the Revolution broke out, young Haynes was on the
alert to serve his country. In 1774, he enlisted as a minute man, in virtue
of which he was required to spend one day in the week in military exercise,
and to hold himself in readiness for actual service. In 1775, shortly after
the battle of Lexington, he joined the army at Roxbury; the next year he
was a volunteer in the expedition to Ticonderoga; and, at the close of his
Northern campaign, returned to his home in Granville, and engaged again in
agricultural pursuits.
But, notwithstanding the variety of his .occupations, and the distracting
nature of some of them, his efforts to increase his stock of knowledge, and
especially of theological knowledge, were never intermitted. At length he
determined to try his hand at writing a sermon ; and he actually produced
one which is still preserved, and which may justly shame the first efforts of
many a man of better advantages and of a whiter face. It was the custom
in the family in which he lived, to devote Saturday evening chiefly to
domestic religious instruction and worship ; and part of the exercise often
consisted in the reading of a printed sermon. Young Haynes, being, on a
certain occasion, called upon to read, slipped his own sermon into the book
which he held in his hand, and read it to the family. The good deacon
with whom he lived listened to it with great delight, — supposing that it
was one of Whitefield's ; but, upon inquiry, was surprised to find that the
reader and the writer of the sermon were identical.
It is quite probable that this incident had an important bearing upon Mr.
Haynes' subsequent life ; — for it seems to have been one of the circum-
stances that suggested to his friends the idea of his entering the ministry.
• Jonathan Huntington was a native of Windham, Conn.; did not receive a degree fmm
any College; was ordained pastor of the church in Worthington, Mafg., June 26, 1771; an.]
died March 11, 1781, aged forty-eight.
Vof,. n. ' 23
J 78 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Au opportunity occurred about this timo for his acquiring an education at
Dartmouth College ; but he could not bring himself to take advantage of it.
He, however, shortly after, (1779,) accepted an invitation from the Kev.
Daniel Farraud of Canaan, Ccmn., to reside with hiiu, and study the Latin
hmguage under his tuition. Mr. Farraud was distinguished not less for his
wit than his piety ; and the remarkable resemblance to his character whicli
Mr. Haynes exhibited in after life, renders it more than probable that the
pupil, as he was a great admirer, became also insensibly, to some extent,
au imitator, of the teacher. During his residence here, he studied several
other branches beside Latin, and gave a portion of his time to the writing
of sermons. He also composed a poem, which, however, was stolen from
liis desk ; and it is said that he afterwards heard of its being delivered at
■A College Commencement. After this, he was engaged, for some time, a^
teacher of a school at Wiutonbury, at the same timo devoting his leisure ti)
the study of the Greek. By his unremitting diligence, he became, in a few
months, a respectable Greek scholar ; and, at a later period, he showed
himself no mean critic of both the ISeptuagint and the New Testament.
At length, when his attainments, in the estimation of competent judges,
had become sufficient to justify such a step, he made application for license
to preach the Gospel; and, on the '20th of November, 1780, he wa.*;
approved as a candidate by several respectable clergymen to whom he sub-
mitted himself for examination. His credentials bear the signatures of
Daniel Farraud of Canaan, Jonathan Huntington of Worthington, and
Joseph Huntington, D. D., of Coventry.
It was certainly a singular triumph of sterling merit over the power of
prejudice, that Mr. Haynes should have been immediately and unanimously
invited to supply the pulpit in a newly organized church, in the very placu
in which he had passed nearly his whole life. But such was the fact ; and
instead of being subjected to the least inconvenience on account of his
colour or his history, he every where met a most cordial welcome, and thcro
was the highest appreciation of both his character and services. Here (in
Middle Granville) he continued labouring for five years ; and though, owing
to the peculiar state of the times, he had a mighty current of evil in the
form of both infidelity and immorality to resist, yet he moved steadily for-
ward against all opposing influences, and performed a work which had a
most important bearing upon the future prosperity of the congregation.
No general revival attended his ministry, and yet many are believed to have
been savingly benefitted by his labours.
At tliis period, Elizabeth Babbct, a young lady of intelligence and
respectability, wlio had been greatly assisted by Mr. Haynes' counsel in her
spiritual conflicts, and who was deeply grateful for the benefit she had
received from him. actually ofi"ereil to become his wife ; and the result was
that, after secldng heavenly guidance and the counsel of some of his breth-
ren in the ministry, he acceded to her proposal, and they were married at
Uartland, Conn. September 22, 1783.
After tlic lapse of five years, during which he had supplied the small
congregation in Granville to great acceptance, it was deemed proper that
he should receive ordination ; and the church having signified their wishes
to this eff"ect to the Association of ministers in Litchfield county, they pro-
ceeded to ordain him, November 9, 1785. The ordination sermon was
preached by his venerable instructer, the Rev. Daniel Farrand, on 1 Chro-
LEMUEL HAYNES. 179
nicies, XVII, 16. " Who am I, 0 Lord God, and what is my house that
thou hast brought me hitherto ?"
Shortly after his ordination, he was requested to supply a vacant church
in Torrington, Conn., where he continued his labours about two years. But
though he was greatly esteemed both for his talents and piety, and a blessing
manifestly attended his ministrations, and many wished to retain him as their
permanent pastor, yet, owing to the sensitiveness of a small portion of the
congregation, the majority consented to yield their wishes, in consequence
of which he retired to another field.
In July, 1785, Mr. Haynes set out on a journey to the State of Vermont,
which, at that time, presented a very important field of ministerial useful-
ness. While there were but few churches and few ministers, infidelity was
alike common and arrogant in almost every part of the State ; and Mr.
Haynes was admirably adapted, by his peculiar talents, to confound this
blustering foe. Not only had he made himself very familiar with the Deis-
tical controversy, but his uncommon shrewdness and self-possession gave
him an advantage which comparatively few possess ; and those who ventured
to encounter him, were very sure to gather but few laurels in the conflict.
In March, 1788, he received a call from the West parish in llutland to the
pastoral office. He accepted it, and for thii'ty years remained there in the
exemplary discharge of his various duties.
In the year 1805, Mr. Haynes published his celebrated sermon on the
text — " Ye shall not surely die," in answer to Hosea Ballon, a well known
preacher of the denomination of Universalists. The circumstances which
drew forth that remarkable production, were as follows. Mr. Haynes had
appointed a lecture at a private house, in a remote part of his parish, without
being aware that, on the same day, Mr. Ballou had an appointment to preach
in his (Mr. H.'s) meeting-house. After Mr. B.'s arrival in town, some of
Mr. H.'s friends called upon him, and expressed their regret that his lecture
would iuterfere with Mr. B.'s service, and moreover stated that Mr. B. had
intimated a suspicion that the coincidence of the two services had not been,
on the part of Mr. H., altogether accidental. Mr. Haynes finally concluded,
in accordance with the wishes of his friends, to forego liis own appointment
and attend the other service. On arriving at the meeting-house, he was
introduced to Mr. Ballou, who invited him to take part in the exercises, and
rather urged it on the ground that he was to occupy his (Mr. H.'s) pulpit.
Mr. H. however excused himself, — remarking, at the same time, that per-
haps he might be willing to say a word after the sermon. Accordingly, in
due time, the preacher turned to him, and remarked that there was an oppor-
tunity to speak, if he desired it ; upon which ho immediately aro^e, and witli
no other preparation than he could make while Mr. B. was preaching, deliv-
ered the discourse above referred to. 'J'he opinion has been often expressed
that there is not in the language another argument on the same subject, and
within the same compass, equally ingenious and eiFectivc. The .sermon has
gone through editions innumerable on both sides of the Atlantic, and is coti-
sidered a very masterpiece of religions satire.
Mr. Haynes was a delegate, in 1814, from the General Convention of min-
isters in Vermont to the General Association of Connecticut, which held its
session that year at Fairfield. On his way he stopped at New Haven, and
preached in the Old Blue church, to a large and delighted audience, among
whom was President Dwi^ht. He afteiwarus |ireaclicd at Fairfield before
180 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
the Association, where he was also listened to with profound attention
and admiration. His presence as a member of the body is said to have given
nnusual interest to the occasion ; while his great shrewdness, qualified by his
rharniing modesty, rendered him a universal favourite.
From early life, Mr. Hayues had always taken a deep interest in the civil
affairs of the country, and had never attempted to conceal his political par-
tialities. He was, from conviction, a decided and uncompromising Federalist.
It is not improbable that, considering the violence of party spirit at the
period now referred to, (1818,) he may have indulged too freely in animad-
versions upon the course of his political opponents. Be that as it may, a
state of feeling was generated in his congregation, in consequence of his
connection with politics, adverse alike to his comfort and usefulness ; and,
accordingly, in April of that year, a mutual council was convened, and,
after due consideration of the case, they declared his pastoral relation dis-
solved. The scene of parting is represented to have been one of the most
touching character. In taking leave of his people, he addressed them in two
appropriate discourses, full of most judicious counsel and instruction, which
were afterwards published.
No sooner was his pastoral relation to the people of Rutland dissolved,
than he was invited to take charge of the church then vacant in Manchester,
— a beautiful village on the West side of the Green Mountains. Though it
was not considered expedient that he should become the settled pastor of
the church, he continued there about three years, labouring with great pru-
dence, affection, and fidelity.
During his residence in Manchester, he was somewhat connected with an
event of most extraordinary character, which, at the time, occasioned a deej)
sensation throughout the whole country ; and indeed it has rarely had its
])arallel in the history of the world. A man by the name of Russell Colvin,
an inhabitant of that town, had become deranged, and had been accustomed
for years to wander about the country in a state of complete mental aliena-
tion. It was not uncommon for him to be absent for several months at a
time ; but, at length, in the year 1813, he suddenly disappeared, and years
passed away and no tidings were heard respecting him. The conjecture,
after a while, got afloat, that he had been murdered ; and suspicion attached
to two of his wife's brothers, Stephen and Jesse Boom. New developments,
from time to time, were thought to render this more and more probable, until,
at length, they were actually an*ested, tried, condemned, and sentenced to bo
executed for murder. While they were in prison, awaiting the time of
execution, Mr. Haynes visited them frequently as a spiritual friend and
counsellor, and from his intercourse with tl;iem, became satisfied that they
were, as they claimed to be, guiltless of the crime with which they werr
charged. Just thirty-seven days before the day that they were to suffer, — to
the overwhelming astonishment of the whole village, the man whom they
were charged with having murdered, suddenly made his appearance, thus
bearing a testimony to their innocence which nothing could gainsay. Mr.
llaynes preached and published an interesting discourse on the occasion
of their release, from Isaiah xLix. 9. " That thou mayest say to the
prisoners, go forth; to them that are in darkness, show yourselves."
Mr. Haynes' physical energies having begun perceptibly to decline, the
people of Manchester, to whom he ministered, came at length to feel the
importance of obtaining the services of some younger person ; and at the
LEMUEL HAYNES. JSl
same time the church in Granville, N. Y. communicated to him their wish
that he would take up his rcsideuee among them, and preach to them as his
health and strength would allow. He acceded to their proposal, and removed
to Granville in February, 1822, where he spent his remaining days. Nor
was this the least happy, nor the least successful, part of his ministry. In
1831, when he was in his seventy-eighth year, a general attention to religion
pervaded his congregation, during which he seemed to renew his strength,
and to forget that his vigour had begun to wane. While at Granville, he
admitted nearly eighty to the church on a profession of their faith.
In 1832, he visited New York and attended the May Anniversaries. He
preached in New York, Albany, and Troy, and was received every where
with the utmost hospitality and kindness. In 1833, he made his last visit
to Granville, Mass. Though the generation to which he belonged were nearly
all gone, yet a few of the companions of his early years remained to welcome
him, and the whole community testified towards him their respect and venera-
tion. He preached several times to crowded and deeply interested audiences.
He visited with intense interest the various localities which were specially
consecrated by his early associations. And when he took leave of his friends,
it was with the full conviction that he and they were to meet no more on this
side the grave.
He now returned to his home and to his flock, admonished by increasing
infirmities that the time of his departure was at hand. For some time,
however, he continued his pastoral labours as usual ; but in the early part
of March, 1834, a species of gangrene appeared in one of his feet, which
seemed to threaten almost immediate death. After about a month, the
violence of his disease had so far abated, that he attempted again to preach,
and actually did preach, for several successive Sabbaths ; but he quickly
became satisfied that his work in the pulpit was done. He suffered greatly
in the course of the summer from the progress of his disease ; but uniformly
evinced the most cheerful .submission to the Divine will. Two days before
his death, having lain quietly during the day, he requested one of his
daughters to come to his bedside, when he thus exclaimed — " What won-
derful views I have had this day. I have been brought to the borders
of the grave. Oh what views ! Wonderful ! Wonderful I Wonderful ! I
have heard singing! Oh how wonderful ! I am well. Glory inefi"able ! "
On the last day of his life, when his final conflict seemed actually to have
begun, he suddenly revived and exclaimed with an air of transport — " Oh
what beauties I have seen ! Glories of another world ! What joys do I feel I
I have seen the Saviour." In this state of ecstatic triumph he continued
until he fell asleep, to awake to a triumph still more ecstatic, in his
Redeemer's presence. He died on the 28th of September, 1834. His
funeral sermon was preached by the Eev. John Whiton, from Philippians
I. 23. A hymn was sung, which Mr. H. himself had written specially for
the occasion.
FROM THE REV. TIMOTHY MATHER COOLEY, D. D.
Granville, Januarj- 20, 1848.
Reverend and dear Sir : Being a resident in a parish of the same town in which
Mr. Haynes was brought up, I knew him well, and heard liim preach occasion-
ally, from the commencement to the close of his protracted ministry. His ser-
mons are the earliest which I remember, and all my recollections respecting him
]^g2 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
as a Man, a Christian, and a Minister, are mingled with feelings of such esteem
and love, as throw around his semi-African person the air of comeliness. The
tincture of his skin and his shape and features indicated fully his African original;
vet there was such an expression of intelligence, and so much sweetness of dis-
position and manners, as not only disarmed prejudice, but awakened respect and
good-will.
Soon after his ordination as an evangelist, he was invited to supply a parish in
Connecticut, and there was great sensitiveness with a few, in respect to his colour.
One of the number was so much displeased that, for a time, he refused to attend
his ministry. At length, however, prejudice was overcome by curiosity, and he
came out to hear. He took his seat in the crowded house, and, from designed
contempt, sat with his head covered. Mr. Ilaynes commenced with his usual
earnestness and eloquence, as if unconscious of any thing amiss in the assembly.
" The preacher had not proceeded far in his .sermon," said this man, " before I
thought him the whitest person I ever knew. My hat was instantly taken off,
and thrown under the .seat, and I found myself listening with the most profound
attention." That day proved a memorable epoch to the scorner. Truth was
carried home by the power of the Holy Spirit, and he became a man of prayer
and of cxeniplaiy piety, and was afterwards an officer in the church.
Mr. IlajMies was emphatically a self-taught man, — the founder of his own fortune ;
and considering his humble origin and his extremely limited means of education,
he was certainly an extraordinary character. His influence over other minds was
wonderful. He was a child of grace, and no one could more appropriately adopt
the expression of the Apostle Paul, " By the grace of God, I am what I am."
Could I represent to you the elements of his great usefulness, and that assemblage
of excellences, which made him so dear to many who knew him, it would aid
others in their plans for doing good. These may be summarily expressed in the
following particulars : —
QUICKNESS OF APPREHENSION.
Whenever a new or intricate subject was introduced, it was delightful to observe
with what facility and ingenuity he grasped it and removed the difficulties it
involved. Other men may have exceeded him in patient and protracted investiga-
tion; but for a sudden conflict, and an effort strict!}' extemporaneous, requiring
all the energies of his mind at once, his powers Avere unrivalled. A te.xt was
often given him as he was about to commence a lecture, or a funeral sermon,
which, as a matter of courtesy, he would accept; and he would illustrate it appa-
rently with as much ingenuity and precision as if lie had taken ample time for
preparation. At an ordination, when the appointed preacher has failed, he has,
with little premeditation, occupied the vacant place with much ability and accep-
tance. In one such instance, after the assembly had principally convened, he
sketched the plan of a discourse, which was entirely appropriate and was received
with admiration.
AN- ACTIVE AND TENACIOUS MEMOKY.
From childhood he was subject to just that course of discipline which is fitted
to improve this faculty. He could obtain but few books, and the contents ofthe.se
he devoured. " His memory was his library." When but a boy, he would collect
a circle of his coevals around him in the intermission on the Sabbath, and repeat
a great part of the morning sermon. His master required him, on Sabbath eve-
ning, to give a full account of the sermons which he had heard during the day.
At the age of fifty, he could repeat nearly the whole of Young's Night Tlioughts,
Paradise Lost, Watts' Psalms and Hymns, and long unbroken passages from
diflerent authors, and more of the Scriptures than any person I ever knew.
Whenever ho had listened to a sermon or a conversation of great length, he could
report the substance, and much of it in the very terms in which it was delivered.
LEMUEL UAYNES. 183
His written preparation for the pulpit was a mere skeleton of tlie sermon, nnd in
the freedom of an extemporaneous speaker, he referred to numerous passages of
Scripture, always gi\ iiig the chapter and verse with nearly infallible accuracy.
UNTIEING INDUSTRY.
He early imbibed the sentiment of Seneca, — that " time is almost the only thing
of which it is a virtue to be covetous." Thoughout liis long life, he was consci-
entious in the improvement of time. His early habits were formed with reference
to a rigid pursuit of business, day and night, lie rose at an early liour, and often
trimmed the midnight lamp. lie sometimes left his bed in the dead of night,
especially if he had occasion to prepare a sermon in which his feelings were
deeply interested. The darkness and solitude of midnight he considered as
favourable to meditation. He Avas through hfe "a working man." His own
hands ministered to the necessities of a numerous family.
It has been a thousand times repeated that Lemuel Ilaijnes got hin education
in the chimney-corner. This is literally true. Bound by indenture as a servant,
he was obliged to labour hard through the day, so that the hours of the evening
and the twilight of the morning, with the exception of a few months at a common
school in winter, were his only opportunities for mental improvement. While his
companions were sporting in the streets, and even round the door, you might see
him sitting on his block, with his book in his hand. Evening after evening, he
plied his studies by fire-light, having the preceding da}' laid in a store of pine
knots for the purpose. The luxury of a candle he rarely enjoj'cd. Here he
studied his speiling-book, and psalter, and other books which he could procure.
He possessed that faculty in the acquisition of Icnowledge, which is the birth-right
of genius. No breath of Christian charity was applied to fan the latent spark
into a flame.
A HIGH KSTIMATE OF LITEUATURE AND LITERARY MEN.
He felt and lamented through life his own limited advantages. The Latin
language he had studied, and had acquired some knowledge of the Latin classics.
In Greek, he was familiar with the Testament and the Septuagint, and often
enriched his sermons with ingenious allusions to the original. He was an advocate
for an educated ministry. A young clergyman, in conversation with him on this
subject, remarked with much apparent sincerity that he thought ministers without
learning succeeded well, and that ignorant ones did the best. " Won't you tell
me then. Sir," said Mr. Haynes, " how much ignorance is necessary to make an
eminent preacher."
AFFABILITY.
After wnat I have said, it is hardly necessary to add that Mr. Hajmes possessed
social qualities of a high order. He was indeed the life of every circle in which
he moved. His speech was with grace seasoned with salt. He was shrewd in his
observations on men and things. I shall fail of giving 3-ou the whole character,
and all the varied excellences of my friend, if I pass in silence his eccentricities,
especiall}' that vein of wit and facility At keen retort, which rendered him at once
an amu.sing and instructive friend and a most formidable opponent. This talent in
him was of the most innocent and chastened character, and imparted inexpressible
.sprightlincss to his social powers, and insi)ired the ra,nks of infidelity Avith alarm
at his approach. Those best acquainted with the circumstances of his location, —
the bold and blasphemous infidelity, the cunning and obtrusive scepticism, Avith
which the region Avas infested, have expressed the belief that this talent gave him
an influence which could not haA'e been otherwise acquired. A fcAv of the many
anecdotes Avliich have been preserved respecting him, Avill give a better idea than
any general description of his ready talent
" Happily to steer :
I'roin grave to gay, from lively to severe."
184 TRINITAlilAN CONG^tl-GATIONAL.
As Mr. llaynes was travelling in Vorniont, he fell in company wiili a person
who soon discovered himself to be un unjirincijiled scoller at religion, iu the
course of conversation, he demanded of Mr. llaynes what evidence he had for
1)elieving the Divine origin of tlie Mihle. " ^Vhy, Sir," answered Mr. II., " the
Ijible, which was written much more than a thousand years ago, informs mc that
1 should meet just such a person as yourself" " But how can you show that .'"
returned the caviller. " The Uible says, II. Peter iii. 3, ' In the last days, scof-
fers shall come, walking after their own lusts.' "
A phj'sician in a contiguous town, of rather libertine principles, arrived in West
Rutland with a retinue of his friends, as ho was about to remove to a distant jiart
of the country; and Mr. llaynes seeing the Doctor drive up, and call at the jmblic
house, immediately went thither to take a friendly leave of him and his family.
After exchanging salutations, Mr. II. said to him, — " Why, Doctor, 1 was not
aware that you expected to leave this part of the country so soon; — I am owing
you a small debt which ought to have been cancelled before. I have not the money,
hut will go and borrow it immediately." The Doctor replied that he must have
all his alfairs .settled, as he expected never to return to this part of the country
again. Mr. II., as he went out to borrow the money, was called back by the Doctor,
who had previously made out a receipt in full, which he gave to him, saying —
' Here, Mr. llaynes, is a discharge of your account. You have been a faithful
.servant for a long time and received but small support. I give you the debt."
Mr. Haynes thauked him very cordially, expressing a willingnesh to pay, when
the Doctor added, " But you must pray for me, and make a good man of me."
Mr. II. quickly replied, — " ^Yhy, Doctor, I think I had much better pay the
debt."
. Only a few months before his death, ^Ir. Hayues was expressing his admiration
at the progress of the benevolent operations of the day, and the amount of good
accomplished by the American Bible, Missionary, Sabbath School, Tract, and
Temperance Societies. A sceptic stood by and remarked with some earnestness
that he believed the devil had got up these Societies. " What," said Mr. II., " the
devil a friend of the Bible! and Missions! and Temperance! Has the devil met
with a change.'' I am sure he would not favour such things unless he had. He
must have been very latel}* converted!"
As ^Ir. Haynes and others were engaged in an ecclesiastical council, a Free
Mason's Lodge had a celebration iu an adjoining town, and the Rev. Mr. D., one
of the craft, attended and preached a sermon. The preacher, on his return, came
into the room where several ministers were sitting in a recess of the council.
" How do you do, Brother D.?" said Mr. II. — " then you have been preaching to
the Masons, have you.-"' And receiving Mr. D.'s reply in the affirmative, he con-
tinued, " Well, it is rather small business. Brother D., for ministers of the Go.spel
to be preaching to these Ma.sons. [ think you might be better employed."
" Why," said Mr. D., " Father Haynes, you don't understand the subject. If
you did, you would not speak so disparagingly of Masons. jMasonry began in
Heaven!" "Began in Heaven!" .said Mr. llaynes, with the strongest expres-
•sion of surprise, and seeming for a moment to be at a loss for a reply — " Began
in Heaven! Oh yes!, I remember it did; but they cast it right out. They
would not keep it there an hour. They cast it down to hell with all the inventors
of it."
It is stated that, some time after the delivery of his fomous sermon in reply to
Mr. Ballou, Mr. Haynes was met by two reckless young men, between whom
and himself occurred the following conversation. Having agreed together to make
trial of their wit, one of them said, " Father Haynes, have you heard the good
news.'" " No," said Mr. Haynes, " what is it?" " It is great news," .said the
other, " and if true, your business is done." " What is it.'" again inquired Mr.
Haynes. "Why," said the first, " the devil is dead!" In a moment, the old
LEMUEL HAYNES. 185
gentleman, lifting up botli his hands, and placing them upon the heads of the
young men, in a tone of solemnity and concern, replied, " Poor, fatherless children !
What will become of you?"
Perhaps no champion of the Gospel in that region was better furnished to meet
the infidel and scoffer, than Lemuel Ilaynes. If they assailed him in argument,
Ills replies were ready and appropriate, and with such naked point as made
sophistry appear ridiculous; and if they railed and ridiculed, he knew well
how to
" teach the wanton wit
" That while he bites ho may be bit."
EMINENT PIETT.
Without personal and intimate acquaintance with the peculiarities of this
extraordinary man, you will scarcely be able to perceive the consistency of these
traits of character Avith great spirituality, and uniform, all-pervading personal
holiness. However dangerous such talents may have been in other hands, I inust
say that, as far as I know, they rarely, if ever, were the occasion of the slightest
blemish to his Christian or ministerial character. His religious experiences were
grounded upon a change of heart, by the power of the Holy Ghost. He ever
referred to the wonderful change which he experienced under the " apple tree,"
as the commencement of his religious hopes and joys. He was eminently the man
of God, — in the pulpit and out of it. He manifested great tenderness of con-
science, being deeply alFected with the sense of his own unworthincss. In his
devotional services, whether public or private, he seemed to court the lowest place-
If he possessed any one of the Christian graces in a greater measure than tlie
rest, it was humiliiy. He was cverj^wherc surrounded with incitements to pride.
Whenever he preached abroad, he was sure to draw a large audience, who hung
upon his lips with flattering attention. All classes were solicitous to open to him
the door of hospitality. He received marked attention from his brethren in the
ministry. Amidst the admiration of crowded assemblies, and the numerous
attentions that were bestowed upon him, he discovered no other feelings than
those of Christian humility. His life was "a living epistle," known and read
of many on earth and in Heaven.
MINISTERIAL GIFTS.
Mr. Haynes possessed a clear head and a pure heart. He had indeed a rare
union of qualifications for the Gospel ministry. His unoffending deportment and
great spirituality, his tenderness and humility, his quickness of perception and
strength of memory, his systematic views of Theology, his intuitive insight into
the human character and comprehensive knowledge of all subjects connected with
his work as a minister of Christ, fitted him to stand forth as "a burning and a
shining light."
His piety was uniform, deep, consistent, and active. He was in his closet
much, — watched, and prayed, and fasted much. He seemed like one standing on
the verge of two worlds, viewing alternately the one and the other, and taking his
measures in due regard to both.
His labours were blessed by a number of revivals which greatly augmented and
edified the church of Miiich he was pastor. More than three hundred were added
t. the church in West Rutland during the thirty j'^ears of his pastoral charge.
Other churches sought and enjoyed his labours in seasons of special attention.
He was much in revivals, and possessed a peculiar talent in solving the difficulties
which pcjplex inquirers after salvation. The instructions which he has given to
the diflBdent, the anxious, and the lingering, will be long remembered, not merely
on account of their success, but as illustrations of the deceitful windings of the
human heart, and of a happy method of deliverance from the wiles of the enemy.
A young lady under the pastoral charge of a highly respectable neighbouring
Vol. IL 24
186 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
minister, who was cnjo3-ing a special revival among his people, was deeply con-
victetl of sin, but saw no light in the Gospel plan of salvation. She felt her need,
hut not her obligation, and was waiting for God to convert her by a miracle.
Her pastor had conversed and j)raycd with her, but no light arose to her mind.
I'rovidentially, Mr. llaynes called, and the pasior proposed to her that if she
dosircd to hear instruction from the voice of age and experience, he would invite
him in. She readily assented; and after being informed of the state of her mind,
hu commenced the interview as follows: — "Young woman, do you expect
to go home to-night.'"' "Yes, Sir." " IIow do you expect to get there.'"
" 1 expect to vv^alk." " IIow will you walk .' " The young lady was embarrassed
and made no reply. " Well," said Mr. II., " I can tell you how you will walk.
Vou will put one foot before t'other — that's the way you will get home, if the
JiOrd pleases, and that's the way to get to Heaven. You must put one foot before
t'other, and the Lord will take care of you. It is lie who is calling you by his
Spirit; and lie calls you, not to wait for Him to carry you, but to follow Ilim; —
and then you have his promise that He will guide you by His counsels. But He
will not carry you to Heaven without your own walking, any more than He will
carry you home to-night, while you are sitting here."
By this singular illustration he fixed the attention of the young lady upon the
very point of her difficulty. He then urged upon her with warmth and simplicity
her obligation to immediate submission and unreserved obedience in faith anil
love. His words were attended with the power of the H0I3' Ghost; and that
night, as she walked towards home, every step she took, was an admonition, in
the light of the instruction she had just received, to commit her waj'S unto the
Lord. She soon gave evidence of hopeful conversion, and adorned the doctrines
of the Gospel by her subsequent life, — holding in most grateful remembrance the
instructions of Mr. llaynes in bringing her from darkness to light.
It was in the pulpit that Mr. llaynes appeared especially to be in the place for
which God had made him a " chosen vessel." His manner was peculiarly his
own. His preaching was distinguished for directness and unction, and was calcu-
lated to quicken the believer, rouse the careless, and guide the inquirer to Christ.
Throughout his sermon helcept his subject so perfectly in view, and brought for-
ward such convincing arguments and happ}^ illustrations to confirm and explain
it, that it was no ea?}!- matter to listen to it and remain unimpressed. You could
not forget his sermons if you would. You would be carried through the various
heads of his discourse as by the charm of a musical instrument. His enunciation,
though distinct, was extremely rapid — a delightful flow of words and thoughts,
as if crowding each other for utterance. He made no gestures, except to wave
horizontally his reference-Bible.
He was happy in the choice of his texts. Ilis sermons were so replete with
Scripture proofs that his hearers usually felt that opposition to his doctrines was
opposition to the Bible. His theological views were systematic, embracing essen-
tially the New England orthodoxy of the last age. He knew what he believed,
and he was distinguished for an uncompromising exhibition of the doctrines of
grace. These doctrines he preached without distinction in revivals of religion.
And remarkable as he was for pleasantry and turns of wit, T never knew him in
the pulpit
" To court a grni when he should win a soul."
I have already extended these remarks beyond what I intended. I will only
add that something may be learned respecting his general character from a remark
of some of the young men of his parish. Considerable emulation existed between
the two parishes in Rutland in regard to their ministers. The Rev. Dr. Ball w.as
minister in the old parish. Mr. llaynes was always welcomed with great cordi-
ality to both their families and the pulpit. The young men, however, by way of
LEMUEL HAYNES. 187
pleasantry would sometimes rally their friends of the other parish about their
coloured minister. The reply, on one occasion was, —
'" His soul is pure,
" All while! Snow white!"
With the warmest fraternal aflection, I remain llev. and dear Sir, your brother
in the Gospel of Jesus Christ,
TIMOTHY M. COOLEY.
WILLIAM GREENOUGH.
1781—1831.
FROM THE REV. WILLIAM JENKS, D. D.
Boston, December 30, 1852.
llev. and dear Sir: It was in the Hey. William Gtreenough's parish
that I first saw the light. He was one of the kind and efiective patrons of my
early studies ; and it is no more than a duty devolving on me. and a truly
pleasant one, to endeavour that bis venerated memory be preserved.
He wasboru in Boston on the 29th of June, 1756. His father, Thomas
Grrcenough, was a mathematical instrument maker, and a grandson of Cap-
tain William Grecuough, who, first of the family, settled in Boston between
the years 1640 and 1G5U. He spent his early years iu his native town.
He graduated with high liouour at Yale College iu 1774, and remained at
New Haven for two or three succeeding 3'ears in the character of a resident
graduate. In 1779, he was admitted a member of the Second church in
Boston, under the pastoral care of the Bev. Dr. Jolm Lathrop. With
whom he studied in his preparation for the sacred ministry I do not know.
liut 1 have ever thouglit that he took the Advice occasionally of his learned
kinsman, the celebrated Dr. Cbauncy, whose remarks I often heard him
repeat. And I have supposed that he meditated at one time the law as a
profession, or perhaps merchandise; for he observed to me concerning his
eldest son, — "If I thought he would suffer as much as I did, in deter-
mining on the choice of a profession, I could hardly desire his life." Had
he chosen the law, his strong mind and powers of reasoning, combined with
his strict integrity, could not but have raised him to distinguished eminence;
and if he had become a merchant, he could scarcely have failed to be rich.
Newton, originally Newtown or Cambridge village, was included at first
in the town of CambriLlge, which bore itself the prior name of Newtown, as
you doubtless know. It was made a corjioration, after a struggle for that
privilege for about twenty years, in 1678; but a church had been gathered,
a pastor settled, and a parish formed, some time before, — that is, in 1662,
July 20th. At that time, John Eliot, Jr., eldest son of the respected
worthy, who so deservedly obtained the name of "the Indian Apostle,"
was placed over the church and parish, as their first minister. And it was
not till October, 1781, that another parish was formed iu the town. Of
the latter parish jNIr. Grecuough became the minister, being ordained iu
November succeedinir its formation. The sermon on the occasion was
188 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
preached by the pastor of the church with which ho had connected him-
self.
Mr. Grccnough was married twice ; lirst to Abigail, daughter of the Kev.
Stephen Badger of Natick, June 1, 1785; and .second, to Lydia Haskins
of Boston, May 22, ITU'.I. There were children by both marriages.
He was very instrumental in preparing the measures which led to tho
formation of Park Street church, Boston, in 1810, being connected with
some of the leading religious families in tho Old South church, particularly
that of Homes. But, after its establishment, he was not often seen in its
pulpit, — which occasioned me no little surprise.
He was one of the founders of the "Society for promoting Christian
knowledge," by a liberal subscription — a Society formed with a special view
to check the growing te^ndency, as it then appeared, to Hopkinsiaaism, and
to continue and maintain the influence of that system which was adopted by
the New England fathers. This was about the beginning of the present
century.
The only publication of Mr. (irccnough's of which I have any knowledge,
is a Foreign Missionary Sermon preached at Boston in 1814.
Mr. Grreenough died at Newton, November 7, 1831, in the seventy-sixth
year of his age. His last illness was severe and trying, but it was borne
with most exemplary submission to the Divine will. I attended his funeral
and addressed the people, at the invitation of the ministers present.
Mr. Grcenough deserved most strictly and eminently the title of "an
Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile." This application will be
granted as just by all who knew him. It was his prominent and chief
characteristic; that is, the characteristic which peculiarly distinguished him
from ordinary good men and from the generality of ministers. And I would
for a moment dwell on it, remembering that once he remarked to me on a
certain case that required no small degree of moral courage — "If ministers
will not go forward, who will?" This exhibits the spirit of his life. For
although of tender and effective sympathy, and ever ready to serve a friend,
yet his manner was of that curt, blunt character, which savoured more of
"the fine old English gentleman," or perhaps of "the country 'Squire"
of former times, tlian of the measured, guarded, circumspect demeanour and
converse of the wary, discreet, and polished clergyman and scholar.
Not that any thing clownish or vulgar attached to him. Far from it.
But his convictions were deep and thorough; his reverence for God and his
Word, his Sabbath and Ordinances, was sincere; his hatred of sin and
detestation of it in all its forms, pointed and honest ; his deportment fear-
less, independent, and strictly conscientious; and in the simplicity and
integrity of his heart, he manifested these qualities with great uniformity
and consistency, — seeming to wonder at the cunning, duplicity, hypocrisy,
and selfishness, which he, at times, detected in others; but not hesitating
to reprove it, with humanity and Christian compassion indeed, but with
marked decision and abhorrence.
In person he was large and tall, stooping somewhat in his gait. He
wrought at times with his own hands on his farm, especially in the season
of haying. The cordiality of his friend.^hips was calculated to win entire
confidence. In his religious views he was a Calvinist of the old school;
and he adhered to this system with an unyielding tenacity. He was also a
believer in revivals ; and although I know not of any remarkable instance
WILLIAM GREENOUGII. 189
of the kind under his ministry, yet in a letter of my father's, I find that a
report of such an event was made to his parish by Mr. Greenough from New
Haven, when he was on a journey, and occasioned much feeling.
Mr Greenough would never allow the Scriptures to be quoted jocosely or
irreverently in his presence, without reproof. Of the honours of the Sab-
bath he was jealous, and in his preparations for it, conscientious, sacredly
reserving to himself the Saturday evening — of which some anecdotes are
told that I forbear to repeat, as I have no authentication of them. But I
have noticed his marrying a couple on the evening of the Lord's day, and
declining to take the fee, saying he must be excused from receiving money
on the Sabbath. Whether it were paid in the secular days of the week I
never know.
Mr. Greenough's sermons were distinguished for simplicity, sound prac-
tical sense, and a clear exhibition of his own well defined views of evangelical
truth. In fact, these were characteristics of the man. He excelled in the
exercise of a ripe, sedate, and almost unerring, judgment, and that, not only
in his capacity as a minister, but in his conduct as a man, a citizen, a father,
counsellor, and friend. Accustomed to the use of property, with which he
was comfortably furnished by inheritance, he was keen-sighted to notice
the abuse or niggardly withholding of it in others ; and I well remember
his language of reprobation, when, having lost by fire his horse and chaise,
while on an exchange, no ofi'er was made by the people to remunerate him
— "If God in his providence," said he, "took no better care of his minis-
ters than the people do, their condition would be deplorable."
I am struck with surprise, as I notice the manner in which President
Allen has described some traits of Dr. Chaunc3''s character, in finding how
precisely he has given in them a portrait of Mr. Greenough. " He was
respected," says President Allen, "for the excellence of his character,
being honest and sincere in his intercourse with his fellow men, kind, and
charitable, and pious. Dissimulation, which was of all things most foreign
to his nature, was the object of his severest invective. Ilis language was
remarkably plain and pointed, when he spoke against fraud either in public
bodies or in individuals. No company could restrain him from the honest
expression of his sentiments."
Wkh high respect and esteem,
I am, dear Sir, yours in the best bonds,
WILLIAM JENKS.
190 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
SAMUEL NOTT, D. D *
1781—1852.
Samuel Nott was a grand.son of the llcv. Abram Nott, who was a
native of Wcthcrsfield, Conn.; was graduated at Yale College in ITliO ; was
settled as minister of Pautapoug, (now Essex,) in Saybrook, Conn., in 1720 ;
and died January 24, 175G, aged sixty-one. Ilis father, Stephen Nott, and
his mother, Deborah Selden of Lyme, were married in December, 1741), and
liad eight children, — two sons and six daughters. His mother died in Octo-
ber, 1788 ; and his father subsequently took up his residence with him at
Franklin, was married, a second time, in November, 1789, to Widow Abi-
gail Bradford, and died in January, 1790.
Samuel Nott was born at Saybrook, at that time the residence of hi(<
parents, January 23, 1754. When he was five or six years of age, his
father's house was burnt ; and his mother, as he told me, in hor consternation,
caught him from his bed, and threw him into tlie street ; and some one took
him up and carried him to a neighbour's house. He said he remembcrc(l
seeing the people the next day rake the ashes with long poles. His father,
for a few years previous to this calamity, had been in prosperous mercantile
business ; but, in consequence of tliis and some other adverse circumstances,
became considerably reduced. lie subsefjuently removed to East Haddam,
(Millington,) and in 1772 removed again and settled at Ashford, which con-
tinued to be the home of the family many years.
The subject of this notice was, at the age of eight years, apprenticed to
a blacksmith ; but, at twelve, the indentures were given up, with a view to
his assisting his father in shoe-making and tanning. When he was in liiri
twentieth year, he went abroad in search of employment ; and, after having
worked a few months as a mason, returned with forty dollars, which he made
over to his parents. He found at home an infant, and only brother, born
in June, 1778 — now the Rev. Eliphalet Nott, D. D., President of Union
College.
Having arrived at the age of twenty, he commenced teaching a district
school ; and, while thus engaged, began not only to clicrish the desire, lint
to entertain the purpose, of gaining a collegiate education ; his parents
having designed this in respect to him, in the days of their prosperity. In
April, 1774, he began a course of study preparatory to entering College,
under the instruction of the Rev. Daniel Welch of Mansfield ; and, about
this time, became settled in his religious views and feelings, and joined thi-
church under Mr. Welch's pastoral care. After various interruptions in his
studies, occasioned ])y the necessity of providing means of support, he was
able to spend the summer of 1776 in Dr. Wales' school at Hartford, and in
September of that year, became a member of Vale College. Here, during
the early part of his course, he supported himself by waiting at Commons
and ringing the College bell. In the third term of his Freshman year, the
exercises of College were suspended and tlie students dispersed, in conse-
quence of the incursion of the British troops. His class was advertised to
re-assemble, first at Farmington, and afterwards at Berlin. In the winter
• CommanieatioD from himself. — MS. from hia son. — McEwen's Fun. Scrm.
SAMUEL NOTT. 191
of 1777-78, he taught a private school, for a few weeks, at Mansfield ; and,
in the fall vacation of 1778, was engaged iu teaching a few young ladies at
Berlin. About the close of his Junior year, Joel Barlow, a resident gra<l-
uate, who had had charge of a school iu New Haveu, gave it up to Mr.
Nott, who taught it till his graduation in 1780 ; and subsequently continued
it till March, 1781, when he was obliged to relinquish it on account of the
failure of his health.
In connection with the business of teaching, Mr. Nott pursued his thcoln-
gical studies under the direction of the Rev. Jonathan Edwards, who, at that
time, had a pastoral charge in Now Haven. He was licensed to preach iu
May, 1781; and, during the succeeding summer, supplied the pulpit at Bridgi-
hampton, Long Island, but was obliged to leave the place iu consequence
of an attack of intermitting fever. In October, 1781, he was invited to
preach in the Second parish in Norwich, (then usually called West Farms,
now Franklin,) as a candidate for settlement. The parish had been long
without a settled minister, and was then in a very distracted state. His fir.>^t
sermon was on the text, — " I ask, therefore, for what intent ye have sent
for me." It made a powerful impression upon the people, and marked (ho
beginning of a better state of things among them ; for, after having preached
to them on probation about three months, their divisions were so far healed,
that they gave him a nearly unanimous call to become their pastor. He
accepted the call, and was ordained March 13, 1782, the ordination sermon
being preached by his instructor and patron, the Rev. Mr. Welch.
At the time of his settlement in the ministry, his health was considerably
impaired, in consetjuence o^ having overtasked himself in his preparatory
studies ; and, for three years, he was obliged to use the greatest caution,
in order to preserve so much vigour as was necessary to the ordinary routine
of ministerial duty. His health, however, gradually improved, so that he
not only laboured more, but lived longer, tlian almost any of his contempo-
raries in the ministry. In 1832, he preached his Half-century sermon, in
which he stated that he had then not been detained from his Sabbath day
labours by illness, in much more than a dozen instances, during his whole
ministry. In 1842, he ]ireaclied his sixtieth year sermon, at which time
there was not an individual living who was a legal voter in the parish at the
time of liis settlement.
He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Yale Col-
lege in 1825.
Dr. Nott continued in tlie regular discharge of his ministerial duties uiitil
December, 1847, after which, he only occasionally supplied the pul]iit. In
March, 1849, _the Rev. George J. Harrison was ordained as his colleague in
the pastoral charge. He preached, for the last time, in the summer of 1845* ;
and his last effort in public was to assist iu the admini.stration of the Lord ".^
Supper, about three weeks before his death ; though he attended public
worship the very day before the distressing casualty by which his death was
occasioned. On the 15th of May, 1852, his dressing gown took tire frum
the stove in his room, and burned him so severely that he died in conse-
quence of it, on tlie eleventh day afterwards — May 2Gth. During the first
part of the intervening period, he was comparatively free from pain, and was
occupied as usual in reading the Bil le and other liouk.^, together with .^^ome
of his own manuscripts ; but a season of great bodily suffering then followed ;
though that gradually subsided into a peaceful .•^lumber, which was broken
192 TUIXITARIAX CONGREGATIONAL.
only 1)}' intervals of devotion. lie died at the age of ninety-eight yea/s,
four months, and three days. Hia funeral sermon was preached by the
llev. Dr. McEwcn of New London.
He was married to Lucretia, daughter of Josiah and Abigail Taylor of
Mansfield, February 14, 1782. She died on tlie 22d of September, 183-1.
1'hey had eleven children. Their eldest son, Samuel, was graduated at
Union College in 1808, was among the first missionaries to the East, who
went from this country, returned after a few years, and settled as pastor of
the church in AV^areham, Mass. One of his daughters was married to
the llev. Eli Hyde, and another to the Rev. John Hyde ; both natives of
Franklin, and graduates of Yale College m 1808. The latter was ordained
])astor of the church in Hampden, (Mount Carmel,) Conn., in April, 1806,
and resigned his charge after about five years. He was installed in 1812.
))astor of the church in Preston, Conn., where he remained fifteen years.
He was then dismissed} and, in the spring of 1828, was again installed at
North Wilbraham, Mass., where he remained about four years. After this,
he preached in various places, but did not again become a settled pastor.
He died at Franklin, much respected and beloved, August 14, 1848, aged
seventy-two. The Rev. Eli Hyde still (1855) survives.
The following is a list of I)r. Nott's publications : — A Sermon at the
interment of Deacon Joseph Hunt, Norwich, 1786. A Sermon at the
(General Election, 1809. A Sermon at the installation of the Rev. Asahel
Hooker, Norwich, 1812. Two Sermons on the death of the Rev. John
Gurley,* Exeter, 1812. A Sermon before the Foreign Mission Society of
Norwich and its vicinity, 1814. A Sermon on the death of Mrs. Mary
Hanford AVilliams, consort of the Rev. S. P. Williams, Mansfield, 1815.
A Sermon at the funeral of Joel Benedict, D. D., Plainfield, 1816. A
Sermon on the death of Moses C. Welch, D. D., Mansfield, 1824. A
Sermon on the death of the Rev. Zebulon Ely,t 1824. A Sermon at North
Stonington, at the ordination of Joseph Ayer as an Evangelist, 1825. A
Half-Century Sermon, 1832. A Sermon at the funeral of Andrew Lee,
• JoHM GnRLEv was born in Mansfield, Conn., February 8, 1749; waa graduated at Yale
College in 1773; was licensed to preach the Gospel in the following spring; was ordained pastor
of the church in Lebanon, (Exeter parish,) Conn., in May, 1776; and died at the close of
February, 1812, in the sixty-fourth year of his age, and the thirty-seventh of his ministry.
He was distinguished for benevolence and piety, and was a very Moses for meekness.
f Zkuitlon Ely was bom in Lyme, Conn., in 1759; was fitted for College under the instruc-
ti')n of the Rev. Elijah Parsons of East Haddam, Conn.; and was graduated at Yale in 1779.
When the British were approaching New Ilaven in July of that j'ear, he was emploj-cd at nn
advanced po?t in firing at them, in company with a few of iiis fellow students. He kept liif
station behind a tree until he was left alone; and before he was aware of it, a scouting party
iif the enemy, concealed under the fence, were well nigh upon him. He escaped, however, with
the loss of his hat and coat in the chase, in which he was briskly followed by bullets. He wa^
li'!cnscd to preach by the Association holding its session in North Guilford, in Maj'. 1780; w.os a
Tutor in Yale College in 1781-82; was ordained pastor of the church in Lebanon, Conn.,
November 13, 17H3; experienced a parah'tic affection in October, 1818; continued to preach
with occasional intermissions until JIarch, 1823, from which time his faculties more perceptibly
decayed, until the last gleam of consciousness seemed to be gone. He died November 18, 1824.
He had a family of twelve children who arrived at mature age, one of whom is the Rev. Ezra
Stiles Ely, I). 1).. of Phila<lelj>hia. Ho published a Sermon on the death of Governor Trumbull,
178.5; a .'^ermon at the ordination of Shubael Bartlctt, 1804; [who was graduated at Yale Col -
lego in 1800; studied Theology under President Pwight; was ordained pastor of the Second
Church in East Windsor, February 12, 1^04; and died June 6, 1855, aged seventy ;] an Election
.^I'rmon, 1804; a Sermon at the ordination of his son, 1806; a Sermon at the funeral of Amos
Leech, Mrs. Lucretia Buell, and a young child, 1809; a Sermon at the funeral of (the second)
Governor Trumbull, 1809 ; a Sermon on the death of Solomon Williams, 1811 ; a Sermon on the
death of the Hon. William Williams, 1311; a Sermon before the Foreign Mission Society of
Windham County, 1815.
SAMUEL NOTT. JQO
D. D., Lisbon, 1832. A Sermon on the sixtieth anniversary of his ordina-
tion, 1842.
In the winter of 1810-11, — the year that I entered College, I taught a
district school within the limits of Dr. Nott's parish, and was examined by
him in respect to my qualifications. I found him very skilful at examining,
having been not only an examiner, but a teacher, during a great part of his
life. He treated me then and ever after with great kindness, though my
intercourse with him was not very frequent, nor yet exactly that of an
equal. I used to like to hear him preach, though his preaching was gene-
rally extemporaneous, and I think not characterized by great variety. I
scarcely saw him from that time, till I went purposely to see him at his own
house, in the autumn of 1849, when he was ninety-five years old. I found
him in good health and very sociable, with his memory quite tenacious
of ancient events, but nearly oblivious of more recent ones. I could not
make him remember me ; and when I told him that he once examined
me to teach a school in his parish, he said — "Very likely, for I have
examined a great many in my day." He complained that he had a cold
in his head, that prevented him from thinking ; but I found that that
was a standing complaint, and the last time I heard of him previous to his
death, I was told that it continued still. He repeated several times over
that he had always kept going night and day, and was doing so then as much
as ever ; that he educated himself, and then educated his brother Eliphalet,
(the President of Union College,) &c.,&c. He mentioned several times, as
if it were a fact to which he attached much importance, that the late Dr.
Moses C. Welch sometimes heard his recitations while he was fitting for
(College ; and that he preached Dr. Welch's funeral sermon. He would, at
intervals of a few minutes, look up to me and say — " But I don't know who
you are ;" and that notwithstanding I had told him as often as he had expressed
his ignorance. He asked me to implore a blessing at the table, andhehim-
sidf gave thanks with perfect propriety, and at considerable length. His
granddaughter told me that he wrote two or three sermons every week, and
she gave me several specimens which were really quite respectable. When
1 came away he was getting ready to attend the funeral of one of his
parishioners, a mile or two off. I never saw him afterwards.
FROM MR. DAVID N. LORD.
EDITOa OF THE THEOLOGICAL AND LITERARY JOURNAL, 40.
New York, 11 January, 1856.
My dear Sir: I was, in my early years, well acquainted with the late Samuel
Nott, D. D., of Franklin, — ray native town. Though our house was not in his
pari.sh, and for convenience we attended public worship in Hanover Society, Li.sbon,
yet T often heard him preach in his own and other pulpits, and he was frequently at
our house, attended funerals in our neighbourhood, and visited our school.
He was of medium height and slender, of an unusually clear complexion, n
keen eye, graceful and expressive features, and a silvery \'oice that varied in its
tones with liis emotions, — always grave, often highly pathetic, — and that tran.>i-
fused into the hcnrcir with an artless ease, and sometimes a resistless power, the
striking forms and attitudes of thought and flashes of feeling that .swept through
his own mind.
lie was simple in his manners, warm in his affections and highly social; took
a lively interest in the joys and sorrows of those around him, and excelled in the
Vol. II. 25
294 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ease and skill with whicli he iiiLroduccd religious themrjs in conversation, and giivc
instructions and counsels that were suited to those whom ho addressed.
In the pulpit he was grave, dignified, earnest, and impressive, be^-ond any other
preacher in that region, and had eminently the air of an ambassador from (Jod.
His sermons were marked by great simplicity of thought and style, and were
devoted to the inculcation of the great doctrines and duties of religion. He was
not learned, but had a quick and strong sense, an imagination of sufficient power
to illustrate liis thougiits often by bold figures, and a tenderness and fervour of
feeling that gave them a deep impression on his hearers. He never indulged in
abstruse speculations, nor wasted his ell'orts on trifles. His discourses were not
written, 1 think, generally, and were, for that reason, more effective. When ani-
mated, his attitude and air often became commanding, and occasionally thoughts
and emotions flaslicd from his lips that were strikingly beautiful and impressive.
I recollect, on one occasion, when treating of Christ's readiness and desire to save
the perishing, and portraying the patience, tenderness, and earnestness with which
He invites, commands, and urges them to come to Him, that they may live, he
referred to the illustration of it given by the Saviour Himself, in the man who,
having an hundred sheep, if one of them strays, leaves the ninety and nine, and
goes to the mountains in search of that which is lost; — and, turning half round,
pointed with his hand as though to a mountain, and drawing it, as it were, with
a gesture, painted it and the Saviour, with the affections that glow in his heart,
in so graphic a manner, that the whole scene seemed to spring into visible exist-
ence, and gave birth to the towering emotions which the spectacle itself would
have excited. It was the work of a moment, and sent a sense of the reality and
grandeur of Cluist's love through the depths of my heart, such as I had never felt
before. Of all the bui'sts of eloquence that I have ever heard, that was one of the
loftiest and most entrancing.
In prayer, he was simple, pertinent, and fervid. lie read the Scriptures mth
unusual propriety and force, — his enunciation being clear and emphatic, and his
tones and cadences so natural and suited to the theme, that the text became a vivid
picture, and its personages, acts, and scenery, invested with the hues in which they
would have appeared, had they been present. His addresses at funerals were
peculiarly appropriate and impressive. He knew how to touch the conscience; to
rouse the thoughtless; to awe the bold; and to move the emotions of the tender
and sympathetic. I recollect well the last funeral I attended in his parish, more
than thirty years ago. After the burial, he walked with his wife and youngest
daughter to the place, — a few paces distant, M'here several of his children were
interred; and, after a moment or two of weeping, spoke of it as the couch where
they should ere long be laid till the morning of the resurrection. It was a most
touching sy)ectacle. Every heart throbbed with feeling; every eye was moistened
with tears. He was largely disciplined in the school of affliction — outliving most
of his numerous family — and long ere the shadows of his evening fell around him,
became prepared for those blissful realms, to which, after a laborious, exemplary,
and useful life, he has now passed.
With earnest wishes for the Divine blessing on your efforts to commemorate
.the ministers who, like him, have been an ornament and blessing to our churches,
I am truly yours,
DAVID N. LORD.
DAVID AUSTIN. J 95
DAVID AUSTIN.
1781—1831.
FROM THE REV. NICHOLAS MURRAY, D. D.
Elizabethtown, January 1, 1850.
My dear Sir: You ask of me some account of the Rev. David Austin,
oi)e of my predecessors in the church with which I am here connected as
pastor. With this request I cheerfully comply. Having seen Mr. Austin
once when I was a boy, and hearing very much about him, on my settle-
ment here, from some of the "old people, upon whose minds he made a very
deep impression, I set myself industriously at work to collect all that was
needful to form a true narrative of his life and character. The following
narrative is the result of my researches, and is placed at your disposal.
David Austin was born in New Haven, Conn., in the year 1760. His
father, who was a man of great respectability, piety, and wealth, was, for
many years, Collector of the Customs, and afterwards a successful mer-
chant. David was the eldest of a numerous family, all the members of
which who lived to maturity, became hopefully pious. He was early fitted
for College, and was graduated at Yale in 1779. After graduating, he pur-
sued his theological studies with Dr. Bellamy, and, according to the custom
of that day, was soon licensed to preach the Gospel. He preached to great
acceptance, and in several places was strongly solicited to settle as a pastor.
Having determined to visit Europe, before taking a pastoral charge, he
declined all these proposals, some of which were highly flattering and advan-
tageous. He spent some time in foreign travel, and returned with an
ardent desire for the work of the ministry. He married Miss Lydia Lath-
rop of Norwich, whose father was a wealthy and highly respectable citizen
of that town ; and, shortly afterwards, — September 9, 1788, was ordained
and installed pastor of the Presbyterian church in Elizabethtown.
From the time of his settlement, he continued his labours here, greatly
beloved and extensively useful, until the close of 1795. The eflFect of a
natural eccentricity connected with a most enlarged benevolence, which his
private fortune enabled him to exercise, was only to increase the number of
his ardent friends. In that year he had a violent attack of scarlet fever,
from which he but slowly recovered, and which very seriously affected his
mind. During the period of his convalescence, he commenced the study of
the Prophecies, and the effect was soon obvious in a mental derangement
from which he never wholly recovered. When he resumed his labours, he
commenced preaching on the sixtieth chapter of Isaiah, from which he
tauglit the doctrine of the personal reign of Christ, and that his second
coming was to take place on the fourth Sabbath of May, 1796. The atten-
tion of the people now became wonderfully excited, and such was the rush
from neighbouring towns, that multitudes on the Sabbath could not get
room to stand in church.
At length the appointed day drew near. On the previous evening, a
meeting was held for prayer and preparation in the Methodist church, and
the house was crowded. He dwelt on the history of the Ninevites, who
repented at the preaching of Jonah, and exhorted his hearers to imitate
196 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
their example. Weeping ami mourning were heard in all parts of the
assembly. The next day the sun rose with more than its usual splendour,
and a vast multitude of people crowded the house and surrounded it. But
the day passed away without any unusual occurrence ; and many of his
followers were only now convinced that he was under a delusion, and that
they had been deluded by him. His friends hoped that disappointment
would dissipate his delusion, and the Session of his church remonstrated
with him ; but his ingenuity soon found excuses for his Lord's delay, and
his enthusiasm was only the more inflamed. He charged his Session and
the members of his church that opposed him, with the sin and guilt of
Uzzah, and stated that it was because of the mere mercy of God tliat they
did not suffer his punishment. At this time, he took the vow of a Nazar-
ite, and preached incessantly, — sometimes three sermons a day, through
that part of the country. Wherever he went, crowds followed him, and
(jod overruled the excitement he produced to the conversion of many souls.
His great theme was the near approach of the personal reign of Christ upon
earth ; and he maintained tliat, as Joshua led the Jews into the promised
land, as John the Baptist was the forerunner of the Saviour, so he was
appointed of God to bring in the glorious millennial reign of righteousness.
The congregation being now seriously agitated by his proceedings, — behav-
ing declared that he was about to establish a new Church on earth, a public
meeting was called, and a committee of eleven was appointed to wait upon
him. They stated their grievances, asked some questions as to his future
proceedings, and requested a written answer. It was as follows: —
" To Jonathan Dayton, of the committee of eleven appointed by the con-
gregation of Elizabethtowa to wait on Mr. Austin, their pastor, in respect
to the present course and object of his ministry, and of the concerns of the
congregation in general :
"In conformity to the request of the committee, that the answer to their
application might be given in writing, it may be said —
" In respect to that part of the paper read, which hinted at and com-
plained of an avowed design of the pastor to institute a new Church, and to
set up a new order of things in ecclesiastical concerns, ' independent of the
Presbytery, of the Synod, or of the General Assembly ;' — it may be openly
answered that such is my fixed and unalterable determination. For a war-
rant thus to jiroceed, reference may be had to the third and sixth chapters
uf the Prophecy of Zechariah, and to many other passages of Scripture,
which foretell of these things and of these days.
" On the testimony of the Scriptures, and on the inward teachings of the
Holy Spirit of God, and on the present aspect of Providence, and on
uncommon and extraordinary revelations of the mind and will of God to
this point, depcndance is had in proof of a special and designating call to
proceed in this solemn and interesting work.
" Be it known then to the committee, and to the congregation, and to
the Presbyterian Church, and to the world at large, that such extraordinary
call I do profess to have received ; and that it is my glory openly to avow,
and solemnly to profess, my determination to maintain and to discharge the
duties of it, through the faith of that power and constant grace which hath
called and accompanied me in this concern thus far.
DAVID AUSTIN. 197
' Under such impressions, standing collected and firm, I again announce
to the committee, to the congregation, and to all concerned, that implicit
obedience to the voice of Heaven is my fixed determination.
" Let this declaration be productive of what consequences it may, be it
remembered that the anticipations of Divine support are so ready and
abundant, that the instrument of the Divine designs feels himself ready,
and professes himself willing, to meet all obstacles, and to brave all dangers,
in the prosecution of the noVile object which Infinite Wisdom hath placed
before him.
" The baptism of the cloud and of the sea opened the journey of God's
ancient Israel towards the goodly land ; and answeringly to the former
example, the present course of spiritual journeying is now to be taken up ;
and if the scenes of the ancient warfare are again to be repeated, faith in
God pronounces the eternal arm to be mightily sufficient to secure the vic-
tory in every conflict in which his own shall be engaged. And it may be
well for opposers to the predestinated purposes of God to remember that
the disasters of those whose carcases fell through unbelief, and the utter
extirpation of those who stood in the way of the advancing forward of the
host of Israel in search of the goodly land, are but a lively figure of what
those are to expect who are found imitating their faithless and wicked
example in these latter days.
" Submitting the whole concern to the unqualified sovereignty of God,
and to the decisions of those to whom these presents may come, I subscribe
to the congregation an affectionate pastor, and to the people of God in every
place, an unfeigned friend, and servant of God in Christ Jesus.
David Austin.
" Elizabethtown, Friday, April 7th, A. D. 1797."
Twelve days after the receipt of the above answer, the following petition
was sent to the Presbytery of New York, with which the church was then
connected : —
" At a meeting of the Elders, Deacons, Trustees, and members of the
First Presbyterian congregation in Elizabethtown, at their meeting house
on Wednesday, the 19th of April, 1797, at two o'clock in the P. M. of
that day, agreeable to adjournment, [Mr. Elias Dayton, Moderator, and
Mr. Aaron Ogden, Clerk,] it was resolved, unanimously, that the following
petition be presented to the Presbytery of New York, at their next
session : —
"The Elders, Deacons, Trustees, and members of the First Presbyterian
congregation in Elizabethtown, respectfully petition the Reverend Presbytery
of New York to dissolve the pastoral relation now subsisting between the
Rev. David Austin and said congregation, provided they are of opinion that
the following reason is a sufficient foundation for the application, — namely,
the declaration of the Rev. Mr. Austin's intention to set up a new Church,
independent of Presbytery, Synod, or General Assembly; as will fully
appear by an acknowledgment under his own hand, and herewith sent.
"Resolved, unanimously, that Mr. Jeremiah Ballard, Renjamin Corey,
and Shepard Kollock, be a committee for the purpose of presenting the
foregoing petition. El.iAS Dayton.
" Attest, Aaron Ogden, Clerk."
The following is the decision of the Presbytery in the case, which, whilst
it dissolves his pastoral relation to the congregation, and protests against his
198 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
errors, and warns the churches against him, yet bears ample testimony to
his moral character.
'♦ Thurs.iay, May 4, 1797.
" The consiJerutiun of the petition from l"'.lizal)ethtov\u was resumed.
The Couuulssiouers from the congregation of Klizabcthtown, Iwjing asked
whether they had any thing furtlicr to offer respecting the business,
answered, ' Not at prcst-nt.' Mr. Austin being then culled uj)on to know
whether he had any thing to offer respecting the petition and application
before Presbytery from the congregation of Klizabelhtowii, replied that ho
had no objection to the Presbytery's deciding upon that petition as they
should think proper ; and that he took this opportunity to signify his inten-
tion to withdraw, and declared that he actually did then withdraw from his
connection with this Presbytery, and from all Presbyterial connection and
government.
" The parties being removed, the Presbytery proceeded to deliberate and
to form a judgment upon the case ; and, after due deliberation, unanimously
judged that the way was clear for granting the petition from the congrega-
tion of Elizabethtown, to have the pastoral relation between Mr. Austin and
said congregation dissolved, and did accordingly dissolve it, and hereby declare
the congregation vacant.
"With respect to Mr. Austin's declaration of his having withdrawn from
his connection with this Presbytery, and from all Presbyterial connection
and government, they also unanimously declare that they are sensibly and
tenderly affected upon the occasion, and sincerely lament the unhappy cir-
cumstances which have led to these measures. And whilst it is their wish
to treat Mr. Austin's person and character with all possible delicacy ami
tenderness, and whilst they declare that they have nothing to allege against
his moral character, yet as they are clearly of opinion that Mr. Austin is, and
has, for more than a year past, been under the powerful influence of enthu-
siasm and delusion, evidently manifested by his giving credit to, and being
guided by, supposed revelations and communications of an extraordinary
kind ; his alleged designation and call to particular important offices and
services; his undertaking to fix the precise time of the commencenient of
the millennium to the fifteenth day of May last, and to designate the circum-
stances of its commencement ; and his present declaration of his intentions
to institute a new church, and to set up a new order of things in ecclesias-
tical concerns ; and his having persisted and still persisting in similar views
and conduct, notwithstanding his having lieen faithfully and tenderly dealt
with on this liead by the Presbytery, in an extra judicial capacity as well as
by individual members, — the Presbytery having taken these things into
consideration, feel themselves bound, in justice to the Church of Christ in
general, and particularly to the congregations under their care, to declare
that they cannot recommend Mr. Austin as one who, whilst under the influ-
ence of this enthusiasm and delusion, promises usefulness in the service of
the Gospel ministry ; Itut, on the contrary, feel it to be their duty solemnly
to caution all against giving heed to any irrational and unscriptural sugges-
tions and impressions, as delusions of Satan, the effects of a disordered
imagination, tending to mislead, deceive, and destroy the souls of men, and
to affect the union, the peace, and the harmony of the Church of Christ."
After his removal by the Presbytery from his congregation, Mr. Austin
preached in the surrounding country for a short time, and then returned to
DAVID AUSTTX.
199
New Haven. Believing in the literal return of the Jews lo the Holy Land,
and that New Haven was to be the place of their embarkation from this
country, he erected houses and a whaif for their Uisc Unable to pay the
debts he incurred, he was imprisoned for some lime. During his confine-
nicut, his mind seemed in some measure to recover itself; but yet, on the
subject of prophecy, was distracted. He returned to this town in 1804, when,
being refused admission to his old pulpit, subscriptions were circulated for
putting the Methodist church into a state of repair for his use. The object
was obtained ; and he preached there for a .short tiine, but the state of his
mind now became obvious to all ; his friends could no longer encourage him,
and he again returned to New England. His mind gradually emerged from
the cloud that obscured it ; and he again entered upon a career of useful-
ness. His excellent wife, possessed of an ample patrimony, exerted a most
happy influence upon him, and greatly aided in restoring his mind to it.s
former balance. For a number of years he preached in vacant churches in
the Eastern part of Connecticut. In 1816, he received a call from the
church in Bozrah, where he was installed on the ninth of May of that year.
Here he preached regularly and with great acceptance and success, until his
death, which took place at Norwich, February 5, 1831, in the seventy-second
year of his age.
Mr. Austin was decidedly one of the most popular preachers of his day.
Up to the time of his great affliction, no man could be more universally
beloved and admired. Dignified in personal appearance, polished in manners,
eloquent in his public performances, and prompt to meet every demand that
was made upon his ample fortune, he exerted a commanding influence not
only over his own congregation, but also over many of the leading minds
of his day. His memory was retentive and his conversational powers extra-
ordinary. His devotional exercises were peculiarly happy and impressive ;
and all who remember him testify that few have ever surpassed him in pub-
lic prayer. Besides performing a great amount of pastoral labour, he rendered
good service to the theological literature of his country. He edited and
published a Commentary upon tlic Bilde, and some of President Edwards'
most valualdo works; and also a series of original Sermons in four volumes,
by distinguished living ministers, under the title of the "American Preacher."
In addition to these, he published The Millennium, or the thousand years of
prosperity promised to the Church of God, in the Old Testament and the
New, shortly to commence and to be carried on to perfection, under the
auspices of Ilim, wlio, in the vision, was presented to 8t. John, 1794 ;
Prophetic leaf containing an illustration of the signs of the times, 1798 ;
a Discourse at East Windsor on the 4th of July, 1799 ; a Sermon entitled
"Masonry in its glory," 1799; a Sermon on the death of Washington,
1800; The Dawn of Day introductory to the Rising Sun: in nine Letters,
1801 ; Proclamation for the Millennial Empire, (folio sheet) 1805 ; a Sermon
at the dedication of the new meeting-house, Bozrah, 1815.
Ever affectionately yours,
NICHOLAS MUKKAY.
200 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
FROM TIIK KEV. ABLL McEWEN, D. D.
New London, December 25, 1849.
Dear Sir: ^ly acquuinluucc wiih tlie Kev. David Au.stiii coiiimeiiced when I
was a luember of Yale College, in the year 1800, — twenty-one years after he
graduated at that in-stitulion. It wa.s during a sea.son, wliicli, to him, was one
of excitement and perple.\ity. He had heen a highly respectable and popular
clergyman in New Jersey-, liy embracing and avowing the doctrine of the 8econd
Advent of Christ, he had brought himself into di.>repute and trouble. lie was
not a man to be satisfied with the mere theory of any thing religious. Ilis specu-
lations upon any thing usually carried him into action. Having appointed tiie
day and the place for the descent of the Lord Jesus, he drew together thousands
of people to see the sight. But there was no descent, except that of Mr. Austin,
lie fell from the dignity of a prophet into the mortifying condition of a man who
had made a great mistake. Soon he was dismi.ssed from the pastoral office; and
tlie I'resbytery, instead of recommending him to the churches, formally declared
their conviction that he was under a deep delusion.
He retired to New Haven, his native place, and engaged in the building of
expensive houses and stores. To inquiries concerning his design, he .seriously, or
what is moie jjrobable, facetiously, replied, that the large stores were to be u place
of deposit for the goods of the Jews in this country, who were to assemble in
New Haven, and thence go to Jerusalem to meet the Son of David, who was soon
to reappear. In a manner more comic than otherwise, he still maintained that
the personal reign of CJirist on earth was soon to commence. The making of
turnpike roads — then a work in its incipient movements, was a fulfilment of
prophecy, ushering in the millennium, when every mountain was to be brought
low, every valley to be exalted, and the rough places to be made smooth.
This enterprise of building involved him in pecuniary embarrassments. Hi.l
own ample estate, and not a little of the property of his wealthy relatives, were
engulfed in tliis disaster. His conduct, at this period, was so erratic that many
people regarded him in.sane. Others, and those who, early in life, were his inti
mate associates, ascribed the peculiarities which he developed to a mental consti-
tution as unlike that of ordinary men as his conduct was wide from their's. For
my own satisfaction, I enquired particularly of an intelligent gentlrman, con-
versant with Mr. Austin, while they were boys and young men, wliethcr he was,
or was not, insane. His reply was, "No more insane than he has been from
infancy; he never was like other folks. He was always brilliant, eccentric, and
humorous. Exciting occurrences and .scenes always operated upon his strange
mind to make him do what no one else would do, or think of doing." Years after
this question was put, and thus answered, Mr. Austin and I had become resident
in the county of New London, where his deportment, though more chastened
than it was in the early years of my observation upon him, was sufficiently pecu-
liar to keep up the question whether he were sane. Dr. Henedict, then of Plain-
field, though formerly of Lisbon, spoke of his acquaintance with Mr. Austin, when
he was a young preacher, and was visiting the lady in Norwich, who l)ucame his
wife. I asked how he was then. Said Dr. Benedict, "Oh he was Mr. Austin.
I lived in Newent; to a meeting of ministers at my hou.sc he came with a gentle-
man from Norwich. One of my most respectable parishioners, Mr. Kinsman,
applied for Mr. Austin as a guest. At the close of the evening, I billeted him
accordingly, with his most hearty approbation. In the morning, at break of day,
the weather exceedingly cold, on my way to the barn, I met Mr. Austin; his fine
blue cloak was covered with hay, and I said, ' Mr. Austin, I believe you slept in
the barn.' ' Veril}' I did. Sir,' was his reply."
After his return from Elizabethtown to New Haven, his embarra-ssnients there
brought him, for a little while, into the debtor's jail. (laving, as the term of
DAVID AUSTIN. 201
enlargement then was, "the liberty of the yard," he amused himself by sitting
on the piazza of tlie County House, and liaving his servant bring his elegant pair
of horses daily for him to look at and caress. One afternoon of Saturday as he
was playing with the horses, he mounted one, and was soon out of sight upon the
Hartford road. The Sherili" issued a reward of fifty dollars for his apprehension.
Two men started in pursuit. The}' followed him through Hartford, and overtook
him at Lebanon, just as he was entering the meeting-house of Mr. Ely, his class-
mate, in the afternoon. Mr. Austin made his way directly into the pulpit; his
pursuers took a pew below. " Brother Ely," said he "' I want to preach." " No,
Mr. Austin," said Mr. Ely, " 1 must preach myself: my sermon is to have con-
nection with the one which I delivered in the morning; I cannot let you preach."
" Very well," Mr. Austin replied, " preach, if j-ou must, but 1 shall preach too;"
and forthwith he took the desk and named his text — "Whither I go, ye cannot
come." After preaching a discourse appropriate to his pursuers, he came down
and with good grace surrendered liimself. The two men mounting him on one of
their jaded horses, brought him down through New London. lie complained
that the gait of the animal was unpleasant, and that he rode uncomfortably. After
they had crossed the ferry at Saybrook, "Now," said he "gentlemen, you have
the river behind you; let me ride my own horse." They granted the indulgence.
Mounted on his courser, and getting the length of him ahead, he cheered them
with a "good-bye, gentlemen," and was quickly out of sight. Taking the first
turn to the right, he made great headway for a while, when, arriving at a tavern,
he dashed olf to quench his thirst. On the table lay the advertisement. "Fifty
dollar.s reward for David Austin, a debtor, who escaped from the jail in New
Haven." Seizing the paper, he bent his course with all speed to the city, pre-
sented himself to the Sheriti", before the arrival of his escort, and demanded the
reward.
He was soon relieved from duress; and he manifested a strong inclination to
resume preaching; but, on account of his recent irregularities, and the equivocal
relation he sustained to his Presbytery, his domestic friends and his clerical
brethren discouraged, and, as far as they could, prevented him. He could
not brook the prohibition, and he turned Baptist, and was immersed, that he
might preach where he could, as it Mas difficult to do it where he would. Jour-
neying about, he found a vacant Baptist church in the county of Windham, whose
pulpit he engaged to occupy for a Sabbath. This church embraced the opportu-
nity to celebrate the ordinance of the Lord's Supper. As Mr. Austin rose to
commence the sacramental service, a deacon of the church stepped up, and asked
whether he were an open or a close communionist. This was an unlooked for
question. Unwilling to be caught in his own trap, he said he was an open com-
munionist. This information fell like a frost upon the deacon and the church.
The administrator was a man of expedients; but no arguments which he could
use, convinced his l>rethrcn that it was right for them to receive the ordinance at
Ills hands. In the kindness of his heart, for which he was always remarkable, ho
proposed to administer the elements, but himself to refrain from partaking them.
To this they agreed. When he had closed the service, with great meekness and
solemnity, he rose up and said, "Though it be not meet to take the children's
bread and to cast it to the dogs, j-et the dogs may eat of the crumbs that fall
from their master's table." He then helped himself to his share of the remain.s,
and retired, in a triumph of his own sort, from the scene.
His new religious as.sociation was not congenial to his taste and former habits;
and without a formal abdication, or any dismission from the Ba])tists, he betook
himself, practically, to the Congrcgationalists. The clergy of this denomination,
and his relatives and friends, shut the door, as far as possible, to his preaching.
Restless, and fertile in expedients for finding opportunities, he would occasionally
hold forth to some sort of an audience. In this state of things, I asked him
Vol. TI 26
202 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
whether lie prcadicil niucli now-a-days. " Not mucli," he replied; "now and
then, 1 go up to Wallingford, and from Brother Xoyc-s' three-decker, give them
otl"a few broad-sides. J>erhai)s I may lake a political swath about the State."
lie was domicihd with his Uncle Street,* the aged pastor of the church in East
Haven, lie issued an advertisement in the newspapers, that on a particular eve-
ning named, " an Oration, on the Conquest of Canaan, would be delivered in the
Stone Chapel, across the brook Kidron, three miles east of the city of Jerusalem,
by David Austin." Just at this time, the IMii Beta Kappa Society of Yale College
inserted an advertisement that Dr. Eli Ives, lately returned from the Medical
Institution in Philadelphia, would deliver an oration on the then new subject of
Chemistry in the Centre Church in New Haven, on an evening which fell out to
be the same which Mr. Austin had designated for his exhibition. Whereupon,
Mr. Austin changed his advertisement in the next edition of it, appointing time
and place identical with those for the proposed exercise of Dr Ives. Mr. Austi;i
was asked what his design was in taking the subject which he had selected for
his oration. Said he, " I have found by my reading that none of the poets in
the ages past have gained much attention from the public, until some subsequent
orator took up the subject of the poem and commended it to the attention of the
people; and," he added, "I am inclined to do a favour of this sort to one of
my distinguished contemporaries."! The evening for the two orations came.
The Centre Church was filled Avith people. Dr. Dana, the pastor, with tho
orator and officers of the Phi Beta Kappa Society, occupied the pulpit and
tilled the seat. At this instant, the stately and comely figure of Mr. Austin,
dressed in a suit of clergy grey, cut and trimmed somewhat in the fashion
of a military undress, was seen moving with dignity and grace up the middle
aisle. Without hesitation, he laid his course up the pulpit stairs, and with
benignity and assurance looked a reception among the dignitaries of the
occasion. However, as the door was not opened, he bowed his retirement down
stairs, and, with composure well displayed, took a chair at the foot of them.
At the instant the oration was closed, he began to reascend; but Dr. Dana having
the hats ready, the cavalcade of officials met the aspirant for the second speech
mi Iway, and he civilly gave place. But, the steps cleared for him,*he appeared,
without loss of time, in the desk, and with winning face and voice said, — " I have
given public notice that an oration would be delivered here this evening; perhaps,
however, the occasion may be better employed by preaching. We have had a
little treat of Chemistry — if you please, we will try our hand to a small experi-
ment in spiritual Chemistry. After ten minutes, if you will be in your seats, I
will preach a sermon." Seeing the multitude beginning to move, he exclaimed,
"If you will drop into your positions to hear, 1 will commence the services
immefliately. Not to be tedious, we may as well dispense with the pleasant
services of prayer and singing, and enter at once upon the sermon. Forthwith
he gave out his text: I Kings, vii, 2.5, — " It stood upon twelve oxen; three look-
ing toward the North ; and three looking toward the West; and three looking
toward the South; and three looking toward the East; and the sea was set above
them ; and all their hinder parts were inward." In his introductory remarks, he
described the speaker: — " I am the last charge, shot out of that great gun of the
(jro.spel. Dr. Bellamy." Here followed a detail of the theological tenets inculca-
ted upon his mind l)y that revered instructer. The last doctrine in the series he
stated. " That" said he, " I did not get from Dr. Bellamy, but it was commu-
nicated to me when at Elizabethtown, by the Rev. gentleman who lately occupied
the seat at my right hand; and Ind he had permanency of soul enough to remain
•Nicholas Street was a son of the Kev. Samuel Street, (by his third wife, Hannah
Glovcr,)()f Wallingford, Conn.; was graduated at Yale College in 1751; was ordained pastoi
of the church in East Haven, October 8, 1755 ; and died October ?>, 1806, in the seventy-seventh
year of his age. He was distinguished for prudence, benevolence, and godly sincerity.
t Dr. Dwight.
DAVID AUSTIN. 203
in his seat until now, I should have paid liim a handsome compliment." This
last touch of facetiousness excited laughter in some of the auditors. A pious old
Welsh lady, in the pew M'here I was, enquired, " Is this preaching?"
The preacher then entered upon the subject of his text. " This brazen sea upon
the backs of the twelve oxen, we may regard as a great mirror, — the Atlantic
Ocean, if you please — Empire and Science, Literature and the Arts, Civilization
and Liberty, civil and religious, have travelled from the East to the West. From
the West to the East, they, vastly improved, shall travel back. Yes," said he,
casting his eyes up to the boys of the College, "if mj- recollection of Optics
serves me, the angle of incidence is just equal to the angle of reflection. Light
has come from the Alps and the Appenines, struck the great mirror and glanced
upon our Allcgbanies and Andes; from them, with tenfold brightness, it shall
glance back again upon tlie European glaciers." After this flight and many others
like it, he rounded off his discourse upon spiritual Chemistry by saying, — " [
understand that the Societ}' have gone over to the Court Hou.sc to eat some bread
and cheese, and perhaps we cannot do better than to follow them. — Amen."
A procession of such members of this Literary Society as had remained to hear
him, led by him, repaired to the Court House. He took his seat among tlic
dignitaries; and, made, by the excitement of the occasion, unusually sprightly
and voluble even for him, he electrified the assemblj'^ by his conversation. In
the midst of his torrent of drollery, a coloured man advanced with a waiter of
wine. "Stop, stop," said Mr. Austin, " behold, Ethiopia stretcheth forth her
hands." The gentlemen took off each his glass. " Mr. Austin," said Mr. Good-
ricii, the President of the Society, " we will wait on you for a toast." " Xo Sir,"
was the reply. Judge Daggett repeated the President's request, but got the same
answer. " Yes," said Dr. Dana, " Mr. Austin, give us a toast — you are one of
the orators of the evening." Instantly, David raised his glass and said, "Dr.
Dana, the shadow of good things to come."*
Mr. Austin was a good classical scholar, never lacking words in his mother
tongue, whetlier speaking in a public harangue or in private conversation. In
all mass-meetings and literary gatherings his presence was sure to be known, for
he never failed to be one of the speakers, nor to throw a handful of his spice into
the entertainment. He was never appointed or called to such services; but was
always tolerated in them. One of the voluntaries on all occasions, — had he been
asked for whom or by what authority he appeared, he would have replied, as the
Yankee did, when, in the battle at West Point, he was asked to what company he
belonged, and answered that he was acting on his own hook.
Mr. Austin was remarkable for conceits, sudden, sometimes trivial, sometimes
sublime, always amusing. I once fell in with liim on the road. As we were
crossing Saybrook ferry, he looked up the Connecticut and said, " A noble river.
Sir." "Yes," I replied, "a very long river for the size of it." " Yes," said
he, — " suppose it to be a tree;" and stepping one foot forward, as though he were
grasping the trunk, he added, " raise it up here, — what a tree it would be! two
l\undred miles high! the towns on the branches would be the leaves; the meeting
hou.ses would be the birds' nests; and " (hitting me a rap) " we ministers
should be the birds' eggs."
After residing a Avhile at New Haven, he removed to Norwich, the native place
of his wife, whose deceased father had made ample provision for their support.
His itch to preach, inveterate, incurable, worried him. He still laboured under
embarrassment from his peculiar relations to his Presbytery. He respected
their vote much less than the Congregational clergy of New London County did;
who were reluctant to admit him to perform within their precincts, .services which
they regarded as at least of a questionable character. At length, however, he
had an application to preach, a few Sabbaths, to a little congregation near Col-
• The reference was to Dr. Dana's tliin and almost ghostly appearance.
204 TKIMTAUIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
•Chester. Mr. Cone • of Colchester, not averse to help, with some stretch of
kindness toward Mr. Austin, let him preadi once or twice for him. One after-
noon, us Mr. Cone was sitting, oppressed with a hypocliondriiioal all'iction, he
ohserved an unusual movement of his parishioners along the streets, and of his
family he emjuired the occasion of this movement. No one could inrurni hirn.
Just then Mr. Austin came dasliing upon his Iiigli-mettled steed, and suddenly
entered the house. " What," said Mr. Cone, " is this movement of the peojiler"
"A lecture," was the rcpl}'. "Lecture! 1 have not appointed one," said Mr.
Cone. "No," replied Mr. Austin, " I apj)ointcd it." " How is this?" — answered
the indignant pastor — " appoint lectures in my parish without consulting me.'"
With all meekness and hiMiignity, the interloper replied, " Brother Cone, don't
be angry; I confess it is a little irregular; but the pigeons are down; let us spring
the net upon them."
As Mr. Austin had never been actually suspended by his Presbytery, and as
he had so far recovered from his mental malady, that it was thought he might he
useful in the ministry, he was set apart as the pastor of a Congregational church
in IJozrah, though he still resided at Norwich. Having preached at Norwich
myself a Sabbath, — ^Monday morning, agreeably to invitation, I called in to .see
him. Having introduced me to his wife and her mother, after some conversation,
he said, " Well, ladies, if you think you have .seen Mr. McEwen long enough to
know him next time, he and I will go out to the office." We went out to the
counting-room of a store, which he had fitted up in rather fantastic style for liis
study. 1 remarked that he had a good room and that all his accommodations
were pleasant. His reply was in character: — "The will of the old gentleman
was an injunction upon his sons to give Mrs. Austin and myself a respectable
livelihood. Well worded — a respectable livelihood — what is it.' Why, good
table-fare every day, money in pocket, good horse and chaise, five horse-whips;
namely — one for each of us, lady and gentleman, when we take saddles; one for
the chaise, a long one to touch the leader if we should have one, and old Jack's
with a wooden handle, hanging up in the stable, worth more than all the rest.
Yes, this study is very well. Here I .sit and try to think; been at it this morn-
ing. One text came into my mind — ' The world, the flesh, and the devil.' Could
not get rid of it. Well, I thought I would .see Avhat I could make out of it — a
very convenient text for some folks. They say, ' we must conform to the world.'
'J'hen the flesh, — we are made as we are, and cannot be much to blame for taking
a natural course; what the world and the flesh don't take, the devil must: so
they think they have got rid of all guilt. But the trouble is, it will all con)e
back again: for think of it; ' the world, the flesh, and the devil ' — every man has
a good deal of this trinity in him."
Taking the oversight of his charge in Bozrah, and, nothing loath, acting often
as its minister of exterior relations, he one day came to a Avealthy man in Nor-
wich, and said, — "Mr. Spaulding, Bozrah people have taken it into their heads
to paint Bozrah mceting-hou.se; and they lack money; and when we lack money,
iSir, we know not what to do but to go where money is." " One thing more, Mr.
Austin, 1% imj)ortant," said the ricli man; " not only must you go where money
in, but to those who are willing to give — 1 am not willing to give money to paint
Bozrah meeting-house." "Very well," said the applicant, "no harm done,!
trust. What would you advise then, Mr. l>paulding.'"' " Why, Sir, T advise
you to go down to Ju<lge FVrkiiis of New-Lomlon; he, it is said, is now ths great
patron of meeting-house';." ".\ good thought," saitl .Mr. Aiistin, — " T go." He
mounted his horse and rode with his usual rajiidity towar<ls New I>ondon. About
half-way, he met Judge IVrkins and another gentleman in a carriage. Raising
• Salmon Cone wm a native of Bolton, Conn. ; was graduated at Yale College in 1789; wa«
ordained pastor of the First church in Colchester, February 29, 1792; was dismissed August 11,
1830; afterwards preached for some time as a stated supply in the neighbouring parish of
Goshen, and died March 24, 1834.
DAVID AUSTIN. 205
himself in the stirrups, extending his liand, and elcctrifyinp; liis whole fijjure witli
.surprise and joy, tlio horseman exclaimed, — "A kind providence — the very man
1 was after." " What now, Mr. Austin.'" — said the Judge. " Why, Sir, Bozrah
people have undertaken to paint Bozrah meeting-house; and they lack money;
and when we lack monejs we know not what to do, but to go where money is,
and " (raising his hand with earnest gesticulation) " now Sir, I want you to give
me one hundred dollars." "No, no," said the Judge, "Mr. Austin, I won't
give you but forty." " Done, I take it," said Mr. Austin, ratifying the treaty
by smiting his hands together with a cheering rap. In narrating the occurrences
afterwards, the Judge laughed heartily, sa3'ing, " I should not have given him
more than ten dollars, but he levied on me so high and suddenly, 1 thought I
could not get off under forty."
A house for public worship was to be dedicated in Stonington. The clergy of
the neighbourhood were called in. Mr. Austin and myself were a.ssigned to the
bountiful hospitality of General Williams. Tn the evening, conversation passed
concerning our host's dairy of seventy cows, and his whaling ships then at .sea.
All this told upon the peculiar susceptibility of my companion. We were put for
lodging into a large chamber, a bed at each end. His habit was to soliloquize in
the morning, and as the light of the breaking day revealed objects of nature, to
address them, mingling ejaculations to God with his sayings to creatures. Very
early, I heard him engaged in such exerci.ses. When he thought it light enough
to make conversation civil, he directed his loquacity to me. " Sir, in this whaling
business there is a magnificent consistency." The reply to this earl}' and well-
studied proposition was, " I hear your statement. Sir, how do you make out the
truth of it ?" "Why, in the first place," said he, "whales are great fish;
secondly, they live in great oceans; thirdly, great ships are sent to take them;
fourthly, great pots are used to try out the oil; and fifthly, great ca.sks to put the
oil in — I say. Sir, that in this business there is a magnificent consistency." Uc
came to a window near me, and, looking out upon a wall of great height and
length, and composed of very heavy stones, and looking also upon the highwaj-,
originally rough, but made smooth by great labour, he said, — " This man who
has given us beds and black-fish, is no ordinarj- chap." "No," I replied, " he is
a thorough man." " Last j-ear," resumed ^Ir. Austin, " I came along here when
he was doing this Avork. I told him he was a sort of terrestrial mi.s.sionary.
Transitions will occur. He has become now very nearly a celestial missionary; he
has built him a church. No miracle neither: for
" Whales in the sea
" God's voice obey."
•Mr. Austin manifestly felt deep regret for the calamities which he had brought
upon some of his friends, by depriving them of property. Particular!}', he
laboured to comfort a brother, who, by being surety for him, had incurred great
loss. After the death of Mrs. Austin, he compromised with her brothers, to
receive, during his natural life, instead of the " respectable livelihood," four hun-
dred dollars per annum. With this and his small salary from Bozrah, he was
able to aid his brother, whose family was very large. lie purchased a house in
Norwich, settled his brother with himself in it, helped him into business, and as
David had no children of his own, he adopted tho.sc of his brother, without taking
them from their natural parents.
.Vt Bozrah he is remembered with much affection. Ilis ministry there, though
not a very well-regulated one, the people speak of with interest. lie was well
bred ; he had seen much of the world ; he had an overflowing kindness of soul —
why should he not do ten thousand things to please his people ?
While prosecuting that ministry, he attended all convocations of the Congrega-
tional clergy in the country, and to them he reported much of his projects and
doings as a pastor. He was often admonished that his measures were ill advised;
206 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
for them he was sometimes rebuked. One thing was always remarkable — he
took advice with humility, and rebuke with meekness, from his brethren, even
from the youngest and the most insignificant of them. He had little power for
discussion; for liis unruly and unmanageable imagination destroyed all method,
and to any great extent, all consecutive thought. Jiut he would always pray with
fervour and with adaptedness of sentiment and language to the occasion. To pre
vent a speech his brethren often requested him to pray.
lie closed life unusually well. Nearly a year before his death, his health began
to decline. His forwardness, his eccentricity, his extravagance, his drollery, were
all laid aside. An increasing simplicity and gentleness, with brotherly love and
faith, characterized him the residue of his days. In life, he had commanded great
attention; in his decline and death, he awakened great interest in the hearts of his
Christian friends.
With the above sketch of a very extraordinary man, accept assurance of great
respect from your humble servant,
ABEL MoEWEN.
REUBEN PUFFER, D. D.
1781—1829.
FROM THE REV. WILLIAM A. HOUGHTON.
NoRTHBORouGH, Mass., August 27, 1850.
Dear Sir: By request of Madam Puifer, -widow of the late Dr. Puffer of
Berlin, I transmit to you the following brief sketch of his life.
Reuben Puffer was the son of Jabez and Hannah Puifer, of Sudbury,
Mass., where he was born, January 7, 1756. His father was a farmer in
the middle walks of life. He lost his mother when he was about nine years
old. No particular incidents or characteristics of his childhood are preserved,
except a remarkable application to intellectual pursuits. He fitted for Col-
lege under the instruction of the Rev. Samuel Woodward of Weston. He
became a member of Harvard College in 1774, and graduated in 1778.
After his graduation, he taught a school, for a short time, in East Sudbury,
now Wayland. He prosecuted his theological studies chiefly under the
direction of the Rev. Elisha Fish of Upton. His earliest ministerial
labours were the first enjoyed by the South parish in Bolton, now Berlin.
From this parish he soon received a call to the pastoral ofiice ; and having
accepted it in June, 1781, he was ordained on the 26th of September fol-
lowing. He united with the church, at the same time, by letter from the
church in Sudbury. The meeting-house not then being completed, the
ordination services were held under a tree, which is still standing near the
church. The ordination sermon was preached by the Rev. Jacob Bigelow*
of Sudbury.
The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by Harvard
University, in the year 1810.
• Jacob Bigelow was bom at Waltham, March 2, 1743; was graduated at Harvard College
in 1766; was ordained pastor of the church in Sudbury, Mass., November 11, 1772; and died
September, 1816, in his seventy-fourth year.
I
REUBEN PUiTER. 207
Notwithstanding Dr. Puffer was always the minister of a retired country
village, his excellent talents and great moral worth caused him to become
known much beyond the limits of his own parish. He was called to preach
on several public occasions, which have usually put in requisition the best
clerical talent in the Commonwealth. In 1803, he preached the Election
Sermon ; in 1808, the Dudleian Lecture at Harvard College; and in 1811,
the Sermon before the Convention of Congregational ministers. The Dud-
leian Lecture particularly, excited great attention at the time it was delivered,
and was printed by request of the students, who subscribed for it very
liberally, not merely to testify their respect for the preacher, but to aid
him, in a delicate way, by a pecuniary contribution. The sermon, as a
specimen of well digested and luminous reasoning, on the evidence of Chris-
tianity, is entitled to very high commendation. The Convention Sermon was
delivered at a time when the parties were just beginning to range themselves
in the Unitarian controversy ; and, though there is nothing in it that par-
takes of the polemic, it left neither the hearer nor the reader in any doubt
as to the preacher's theological views. Besides the Discourses above men-
tioned, he published an Address delivered at Berlin on the Fourth of July,
1810, and two Sermons, one on leaving the old meeting-house, the other on
entering the new meeting-house, in 1826.
Dr. Puffer was blessed with a good constitution, and enjoyed vigorous
health till near the close of life. He was very industrious in the duties of
his calling, and always had a number of sermons in advance: at the time
of his death he had about fifty. On the 22d of March, 1829, he was
attacked with a rheumatic fever, and died on the 9th of April following,
aged seventy- three years and two months. Dr. Kellogg* of Framingham
])roached his funeral sermon, from Matthew xxv, 21.
Dr. Puffer was accustomed, for many years, to exchange indiscriminately
with all the Congregational clergymen in his neighbourhood ; but, for some
years before his death, his exchanges were only with those who held substan-
tially the same theological opinions with himself. He was, however, oever
given to controversy, and retained, till the close of life, the affectionate respect
and veneration of even those whose views were quite at variance with his own.
After his death, the parish overruled the church in favour of a Unitarian
ministry, in consequence of which, the mass of the members of the church
withdrew and formed another religious Society.
Dr. Puffer was married (it is believed in 1779) to Hannah, daughter of
Obadiah Perry of Sudbury. She died January 5, 1812. By this marriage
he had thirteen children. He was married, December 15, 1812, to Phoebe,
widow of Capt. William Stowe of Marlborough, and daughter of Capt.
William Morse. By the latter marriage he had but one child, — a daughter,
who died at the age of eighteen. Of his other children nine survive ; but
none of them are in professional life.
If my own recollections of Dr. Puffer, as a native of the town in which
he exercised his ministry, and a statement of the general estimation in which
he was held, may aid you in any degree in conveying to your readers a cor-
rect idea of his character, I may add that, in his whole bearing, he was
•David Kellogg was bom in Amherst, Mass., November 10, 1755; was graduated at
Dartmouth College in 1775; was ordained pastor of the church in Framingham, Mass., Janu-
ary 10, 178!; received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the College at which he was
educated in 1824; and died much beloved and lamented, August 13, 1843, aged eighty-seven.
He published a Masonic Sermon delivered at Framingham, 1796.
208 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
pre-eminently ministerial. He possessed great dignity of person and
urbanity and suavity of manners. lie was universally acceptable as a
preacber. There was much power in the unaifected soleiunity of his man-
ner, and the impressive sense he always seemed to have of the trutiis he
uttered. In his devotional exercises, he was distinguished for reverence ami
earnestness, and for the appropriateness and compass of his language ; and
his prayers, as well as his preaching, are still most vividly remembered.
His doctrinal views were clearly and decidedly orthodox, according
to the prevailing New England standard. The controversy which sprung
uj) during his last days, no doubt had the effect of giving additional definite-
ness and explicitness to the expression of his religious sentiments. The
following extract from his Dedication Sermon, preached in 1826, may suffice
as an illustration of his views, and of the importance which ho attached to
them.
" In order to secure the inestimable benefits of the Christian tabernacle it is indls-
l)ensably necessary that ti)e Gospel be plainly and faitlifiilly i)reached in it.
•' No other method of preaching, there is reason to conclude, will be attended with
success. If some of the doctrines of the Gospel are suppressed, and others so modi-
lied as not to militate with the feelings of a corrupt Iicavt, no good is to be expected.
(Jod will bless his own truth, and none but that. It has ever been by a clear repre-
sentation of the deplorable condition of mankind by nature, as depraved, guilty, and
undone, and by pointing them to the only remedy, the atoning sacrifice and righteous-
ness of the Redeemer, and the renovating and sanctifying operations of the Holy
.Spirit, that sinners have been reclaimed, converted to holiness, and prepared for
Heaven. As for that mode of preaching which disturbs not the security of guilt, but
leaves the sinner in possession of his self-flattering dream of happiness, it operates as
a fatal poison to the souls of men.
" Let it not be said that in our zeal for the doctrines, we supersede, or at least
depreciate, the virtues of Christianity. Repentance, faith, and holiness, with every
moral and social virtue, are matter of inculcation in the Christian tabernacle, and
compose no inconsiderable portion of its duties. But these must not exclude the
l\indamental truths of the Gospel. They are the fruits, not the root, of true religion ;
])ranches of the tree of life, not the tree itself.
"No doubt it is your wish, my friends, that this house may be to you the gate of
Heaven. That it may be so, let it be your care that the doctrine of salvation by faith
ill the blood of Christ and his regenerating Spirit, be the basis of its ministrations.
If ever the time shall come, — which Heaven forbid, — when this doctrine shall cease to
he taught here; when it shall be supplanted by a lax Theology, which, sinks the Gos-
l)e] nearly down to a level with natural religion, you will have lost sight of the object
for which this house is to be consecrated. But sooner let the stone cry out of the
wall, and the beam out of the timber answer it, than the honour of the Redeemer and
the purity of his Gospel, shall cease to be maintained here."
I am, my dear Sir, most obediently yours,
W. A. HOUGHTON
FROM THE REV. JOSEPH ALLEN, D. D.
NoRTHBOROCGH, September 12, 1850.
My dear Sir: You ask me for some account of the circumstances attending the
jjreaching and the publishing of Dr. Puffer's Dudleian Lecture in Harvard Col-
lege, when I was an undergraduate I am happy to comjily with your request,
)is the circumstances interested me much at the time, and have lost none of their
interest by the lapse of more than forty years.
I had never heard the name of the man who M'as to address us, till that time;
and then we were told that he was a poor country minister, with a large family,
and a verj'^ small salary. Of course we did not expect to be much edified or
interested by what should come from such a source. "We went to the chapel, just
as we were accustomed to go to our recitation rooms, — because it was required of
us. We had taken our scats when, in company with President Webber, and the
Professors, and other oflBccrs of the University, the preacher entered the chapel
A
REUBEN PUFFER. 209
and took his seat in the desk. "We -were struck at once by his whole appearance, —
so dignified, and j'et so modest and unassuming. And when he aro.se to addrcs.s
that silent audience, his serious aspect, his distinct and manly utterance, the
.music of his voice, and the ease and grace of his gestures, at once arrested and
enchained our attention. He had taken for his text Nathaniel's exclamation,
with Philip's reply — " Can any good thing come out of Nazareth ? Philip said
unto him, come and see." And his discourse was listened to with the profound-
est attention, and without the slightest sign of impatience or weariness on the
part of even the j'oungest and most thoughtless of the students there assembled.
And I remember well how, on leaving the chapel, we began to express to one
another our admiration of the discourse, and our interest in the man whose per-
suasive words had so touched our hearts. We heard that he was in very strait-
ened circumstances, and our sympathies were enlisted in his behalf. Class
meetings were called, and a committee, composed of one member from each of the
classes, was appointed to request a copy of the discourse for publication, and to
obtain subscribers; it being understood that an extra price should be charged for
the copies subscribed for, the profit of which should go to the eloquent preacher,
who was bringing up a family of ten children, on a salary of eighty pounds,
lawful money. The price of each copy was, I think, fixed at twenty cents; and
some of the more wealthy students from the city and the Southern States, agreed
to take a large number of copies, so that a very handsome sum was collected in
this way; which, added to the fifty dollars paid from the Dudleian fund, was a
valuable consideration to one, who had learned from hard necessity the art of
living on a little.
I cannot forbear to add that a few years after I was thus charmed by the simple
manners and graceful oratory of Dr. Puffer, I was, by the arrangement of Provi-
dence, brought into his immediate vicinity, visited in his family, shared in his
friendship, interchanged ministerial labours with him, prayed at his bedside in
his last short sickness, received his parting blessing, and followed his mortal
remains, as a bearer of his pall, to their last resting place.
Very sincerely yours,
JOSEPH ALLEN.
SETH PAYSON, D. D.
1782—1820.
FROM THE REV. ISAAC ROBINSON, D. D.
Stoddard, N. H., May 1, 1848.
Rev. and dear Sir : In compliance with your request. I send you the fol-
lowing sketch of the life and character of my excellent friend, the late Piev.
Dr. Seth Payson.
He was a son of the Rev. Phillips Payson, who was a native of Dorches-
ter ; was graduated at Harvard College in 1724; was ordained at Walpole,
Mass., September 16, 1730, and died January 22, 1778, at the age of
seventy-four. He was a highly respectable and excellent minister. He
published two Fast Sermons, occasioned by the war with Spain, 1741. The
Bon was born in September, 1758. Little is now known respecting his
early youth, except that he had a feeble constitution, and was subject to
epilepsy, which threatened him with loss of reason, and premature death.
Vol.. II. 27
210 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
He was, however, free from that mahnly during the greater part of his life,
and enjoyed vigorous health till within less than a year of his death.
In 1773, he entered Harvard College, where he enjoyed the esteem and
affection of both his instructers and fellow students. Possessed of a versa-
tile and comprehensive mind and a habit of intense application, he made
rapid progress in the acquisition of knowledge ; and when he graduated in
1777, he received one of the highest honours in his class.
At what age he became the subject of a spiritual renovation is not known.
In his early religious opinions, he is said to have leaned towards Arminian-
Lsm ; but he subsequently settled down into a decided Calvinist. He was
ordained pastor of the church in Rindge, N. H., in December, 1782 ; and,
during a long ministry, he laboured with exemplary fidelity and zeal.
Soon after his ordination, he was married to his cousin. Grata Payson of
Pomfret, Conn., — a lady of distinguished piety, talents, and acquirements.
They had seven children ; — two daughters, both of whom have deceased ;
and five sons, two of whom became ministers, namely, — Edward, (after-
wards Dr. Payson of Portland,) and Phillips, who was born at Rindge in
August, 1795; was educated chiefly by his father and brother Edward;
studied Theology at Andover, and was licensed to preach in 1821; was
settled as pastor of the church in Leominster, Mass., in 1825; resigned his
charge in consequence of ill health, April 17, 1832, since which he has been
occupied partly in preaching and partly in teaching a school.*
It was univcrsall}^ conceded that Dr. Payson possessed much more than
common abilities. His intellect was sharp and vigorous, his imagination
lively, and his memory highly retentive. His acquisitions were extensive
and varied ; and there were few subjects on which he could not converse
with intelligence, and no class of men that were not interested in listening
to him. lie was known as a distinguished civilian in New Hampshire, and
for two years successively held a seat in the Senate of that State, and was
regarded as one of the ablest of its members. But, though he paid consi-
derable attention to political economy and was somewhat in political life,
yet Theology was his favourite study and the ministry his favourite work.
As his ideas were admirably arranged in his own mind, so he Avas able to
communicate them to others with great clearness and force. His brethren
in the ministry were always gratified and edified by his conversation. As a
preacher, his reputation was deservedly high. His sermons were plain,
luminous expositions of Divine truth, fitted at once to secure attention, to
awaken the conscience, and impress th-o heart. He excelled especially in
devotional exercises. Free alike from affectation, uniformity, and tedious
repetition, his prayers were appropriate and impressive to a degree rarely
surpassed.
In the discharge of the various branches of ministerial duty. Dr. Payson
was eminently faithful. His unceasing solicitude was to promote the
highest interests of the people of his charge ; and he watched for their souls
as one who realized that he must give an account. And while he was thus
laborious and faithful, lie possessed, in a high degree, the esteem and affec-
tion of liis flock. But it was not by them alone that he was held in high
estimation — he had a reputation that was far from being confined even to
his own State. He was frequently called to preach on important occasions,
* lie died in Fayetteville, Nova Scotia, February Ifi, 1856. He had the reputation of being
a critical scholar, a devout Christian, and an earnest and faithful minister.
SETH PAYSON. 211
and I believe he never failed to satisfy public expectation. In June, 1799,
he preached the Annual Sermon before the Legislature of New Hampshire,
from the text — " One sinner destroj^eth much good." It left a powerful
impression on the audience, and was said to have had no small influence in
leading the General Court to revise and strengthen the Statute for the
observance and sanctification of the Sabbath.
In 1802, Dr. Payson published a duodecimo volume of about three hun-
dred pages, entitled, — " Proofs of the existence and dangerous tendency
of modern Illuminism." To render their opposition to Christianity the more
eff"ective, the French and German infidels had formed secret Societies, the
members of which were called "the Illuminati." It was believed that
similar Societies were springing up in this country, aiming at the overthrow
of the Church and of Civil Government. To exhibit proofs of this fact,
and to guard the community against their anti-Christian designs, was the
object of this volume. In a literary point of view the work was highly
respectable. It was extensively read, and exerted a salutary influence in
arousing the religious community to a sense of danger, and in enlisting the
pulpit very extensively for a vigorous exposition and defence of the claims
of Christianity.
In addition to this volume, he published the following occasional Ser-
mons:— A Sermon at the ordination of Ebenezer Hill,* 1790. A Sermon
at the ordination of Joseph Brown,! 1795. A Sermon at the consecration
of the Social Lodge in Ashby, 1799. New Hampshire Election Sermon,
1799. A Sermon at the interment of Mrs. Sybil Waters, 1802. Abridg-
ment of two Fast Sermons, 1805. A Sermon at the interment of John
Cushing, 1806. A Sermon at the ordination of Edward Payson, 1808. A
Sermon at the ordination of Joel Wright, 1812. A Sermon at the funeral
of the Rev. Levi Pillsbury,* 1819.
About the commencement of the present century, he performed a mis-
sionary tour of two or three months in the new settlements, in the then
Province of Maine. While on this tour, an incident occurred, of which he
often spoke with much satisfaction. Arriving at a dwelling to which he
had been directed, he overheard the good woman say to a neighbour who
had called upon her — " What shall I do ? I have nothing to otier the min-
ister, but Indian cake." "Set it on," replied the neighbour; "if he is a
good man, he will be satisfied ; if he is not a good man, 'tis better than he
deserves." The Doctor thought there was much truth and wisdom in the reply.
As a counsellor and peace maker, his advice and assistance were exten-
hively sought and cheerfully afforded ; and to his great wisdom churches
not a few were indebted for the termination of unhappy divisions and the
restoration of peace and prosperity.
* EiiENEZER Hill was born at Cambridge in 1766; was graduated at Harvard College in
1786 ; was ordained pastor of the church at Mason, N. H., November 3, 1790; and died in
1864. He published a Sermon at the interment of Ruth Batcheller, New Ipswich, 1811, and a
(Sermon at the interment of William Kimball Batcheller, New Ipswich, 1811.
f JosRPH BiiowN was born in Chester, England, and was a preacher in his native country;
was settled pastor of the Second church in Exeter, N. H., November 20, 1792; was dismissed
in 1795; wiis installed pastor of the church in Shapleigh, Me., in January, 1796; was dis-
missed in May, 1804; was installed pastor of the church in Alfred, Me., November 13, 1805;
was dismissed in 1809: was installed pastor of the church at Deer Isle, Me., the same year;
and died suddenly in September, 1819.
t Lkvi PiLLSBunv was born at Dracut, Mass., Au,<?ust 8, 1771 ; was graduated at Dartmouth
College in 171'S; was ordained at Winchendon, Mass!, June 24, 1801; and died April 6, 1819,
in his forty-eighth year.
212 'TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
In 1809, Dartmouth College conferred on him the degree of Doctor of
Divinity. In 1813, he was elected a Trustee of that institution, and held the
place till his death, and during the unhappy controversy between the College
and the Legislature of the State, he exerted himself zealously in defence of
its chartered rights; which he had the happiness at length to see sustained
by a decision of the Supreme Court of the United States. He was like-
wise, for several years. Vice President of the New Hampshire Bible Society,
and a member of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions,
and was appointed to preach the annual sermon before the Board, in
September, 1819, — which appointment, however, he was providentially
prevented from fulfilling.
In 1815, he represented the General Association of New Hampshire in the
General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church at Philadelphia. An inci-
dent occurred on his arrival there, which he used to mention as a striking
illustration of a particular providence. It was evening ; he was an entire
stranger in the city, and he found the hotels crowded to overflowing, inso-
much that his first two attempts to obtain lodgings wei-e in vain. Going out
into the shed, he asked himself, with a half murmuring spirit, — " Has
Providence brought me here to lodge out of doors?" On his next applica-
tion, he offered to sleep on the floor, if there was no alternative. The inn-
keeper kindly accompanied him to a private house, where, on being introduced
into the parlour, — whom should he find but his own son. Dr. Payson of
Portland ! The surprise was great, as neither of them had been apprized
of the design of the other to be there. The son, being in feeble health, had
been invited by the captain of a Portland packet, who was a member
of his church, to accompany him to Philadelphia, in the hope that he
might derive benefit from the voyage ; and thus occurred the unexpected
meeting.
In 1819, a plan was formed to remove Williams College to a more central
location ; and several towns in the vicinity of Northampton made liberal
ofters to have it brought within their limits. A Committee consisting of
Dr. Payson of New Hampshire, Chancellor Kent of New York, and
Governor Smith of Connecticut, was chosen to examine and decide on the
rival claims. He fulfilled this commission ; but, just as the business was
concluded, had an epileptic fit, and returned home much debilitated. He
was, however, soon able to resume his ministerial labours, which he continued
till the anniversary Thanksgiving of that year ; when it became manifest,
from the character of his discourse, that his mind had become unstrung.
He soon sunk into a state of insanity, from which neither medical skill, nor
conjugal or filial tenderness, could restore him. He had, however, some lucid
intervals, and then he seemed transported with the prospect of Heavenly
glory. He lingered till February 2C), 1820, when he went to mingle in
other scenes. His funeral was attended, on the 1st of March, by a large
concourse of mourning friends and brethren ; and he still lives in the
affectionate remembrance of many who had the privilege and happiness to
be acquainted with him.
Yours in the bonds of the Gospel,
ISAAC ROBINSON
SETH PATSON. 213
FROM THE REV. ASA RAND.
Peterborough, N. Y., April 16, 1849.
Dear Sir : A memorial of the Rev. Seth Payson, D. D., is worthy of a place among
your proposed biographies of honoured and beloved servants of Christ, who have
gone to their reward, — worthy of a more extended notice than you will probably
be able to obtain. He has been dead twenty-nine years. He served God and his
generation in a retired country parish; and almost all who knew him intimately,
have themselves passed away. I was born and nurtured in a remote part of his
parish, and in my childhood and youth I attended on his ministry with considera-
ble regularity. I was often solemnly affected by his discourses, and would go
home to weep, to resolve, and to forget. Yet I have ever regarded his influence
upon my wayward mind, as having prepared the way for the subsequent effectual
application of Divine truth. My classical and theological studies were prosecuted
in other places; and from the commencement of those studies till his death, my
acquaintance with him and his ministrations was continued only by occasional and
short visits to my native place. He lived seven years after I was married to his
eldest daughter ; and survived that excellent woman nearly two years. But my
location was remote from his, and we seldom met.
In the pulpit Dr. Payson was solemn and impressive. His discourses were
distinguished rather for the didactic and argumentative, than the hortatory or
pathetic. Yet he rarely failed to secure the wakeful and earnest attention of all
classes of hearers. Pious people hung on his lips with delight. The impenitent
acknowledged the everlasting import of the truths he uttered. Even opposers
of religion seldom found any evil thing to say of him. When they did, they
usually manifested their opposition to the Gospel, and betrayed an inward respect
for the man.
It was the privilege of Dr. Payson to labour thirty-seven years with one congre-
gation. During the first half of that period, the ministers and churches in that
region were generally unblest with copious showers of Divine grace. They were
unacquainted with revivals of religion, and did not employ those direct efforts
for promoting them, which have since become so prevalent. Dr. Payson held on
his way, — faithfully declaring the Gospel on the Sabbath, and was blessed in
building up a comparatively enlightened and spiritual church, enlarged by occa-
sional additions from the world. Early in the present century, his people were
favoured with times of refreshing; and his own labours were characterized by
greater frequency, energy, and unction. The latter part of his ministry was far
more successful and happy than the former. He lived and laboured to produce
permanent effects, and the results are witnessed to this day. The pastor who
succeeded him still dwells among his own people; and I doubt not he will grate-
fully testify that the memory of his predecessor is written upon their hearts.
Survivors, who knew him, will never forget him. The children of departed ones
rise up, blessing him whom their parents revered almost as an angel of God.
You are well aware that, during the Revolutionary war, the advantages for
theological education were very circumscribed; and then it was that Dr. Payson
was trained for the ministry. Nor were his energies called forth in public benevo-
lent enterprises, till he had passed the meridian of life. Yet he became a man of
extensive reading and general information. His talents and character were such
that he could not be hidden. He was extensively known, loved, and honoured.
When the age of benevolence commenced, he was ready to every good work; and,
in the State where he resided, took a leading part in the operations of benevolent
Societies.
Dr. Payson wrote but little for the press; but he did much by his voice and
manner of life to impress God's truth on the fleshly tables of men's hearts. The
214 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
salutary results of this influence arc the " works that do follow " him, now that
he " rests from his labours."
Your brother in the bonds of Christ,
ASA RAND.
Dr. Payson of Rindgc had a brother, Phillips, who was graduated at
Harvard College in 1754 ; was ordained at Chelsea, October 26, 1757 ;
received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Harvard in 1800 ; and died
January 11, 1801, in his sixty-fifth year. He was a zealous patriot in the
Revolution. He was a fine classical scholar, and prepared many young
men for College. His acquaintance with Astronomy and Natural Philoso-
phy is evinced by the valuable contributions he made to the American
Academy of Arts and Sciences. He preached with great energy and pathos,
and was a model of pastoral fidelity. He published a Sermon preached at
the ordin*tion of his brother, John Payson ; [who was graduated at Harvard
College in 1761 ; was ordained pastor of the church at Fitchburg, January
27, 1768 ; was dismissed May 2, 1794 ; and died May 21, 1804, aged fifty-
uine ;] an Election Sermon, 1778 ; a Sermon at the ordination of hia
brother at Rindge, 1782; a Sermon on the anniversary of the battle at
Lexington, 1782 ; a Sermon on the death of Washington, 1800.
JOHN CRANE, D D.*
1782—1836.
John Ceane, the son of John and Rachel (Terry) Crane, waa born in
Norton, Mass., March 26, 1756. His parents belonged to the Society of
Friends. He was graduated at Harvard College in 1780. He studied
Theology under Dr. Emmons ; and in 1782 was invited by the Society in
Northbridge, Mass., to preach to them as a candidate for settlement.
Shortly after, a church was gathered, and he received a regular call to
become its pastor. He accepted it and was ordained on the 25th of June,
1783. He was honoured witli the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Brown
University in 1803. He represented the town of Northbridge for several
years in the General Court. He resigned his charge on the 14th of March,
1832, but continued nominal pastor till his death. On the first Sabbath in
May, 1835, — about a year before his death, he preached his last sermon in
the old meeting-house, in which he had ministered for half a century, —
just before it was taken down, on the text — " The prayers of David, the
Bon of Jesse, are ended." He died on the 31st of August, 1836, in the
eighty-first year of his age, and the fifty-fourth of his pastorate.
Several revivals occurred under his ministry ; the most extensive of
which was in 1831, when nearly seventy \vere added to his church.
He published a Thanksgiving Sermon, 1800 ; two Fast Sermons on Civil
Liberty; an Oration at Douglas on the Fourth of July, 1802; eight Dis-
courses on Baptism, 1806 ; a Discourse at Upton, 1810 ; a Sermon at tho
• Ilist. of the MendoD Association.
JOHN CRANE. 215
ordination of Ezekiel Rich ; a Sermon at the ordination of Calvin Park,
1815; a Sermon at the ordination of John Taylor, 1816; two Sermons on
the nature and design of John's Baptism ; Lecture on Sacred Music at
Sutton ; Reasons why I am not a Baptist, by Bickerstaff.
Dr. Crane was married to Rachel Taft of Northbridge, by whom he
had three children, — all daughters. One of them was married to the Rev.
Ezekiel Rich.
FROM THE REV. JOEL HAWES, D. D.
Haetfoed, March 7, 1856.
Dear Sir: I knew Dr. Crane w'ell, having been an inmate of his family six
months, and been fitted for College under his instruction. Though my impres-
sions concerning him are chiefly those of a young man, I received them under
such circumstances that 1 can have no doubt of their general correctness.
Dr. Crane Avas by no means remarkable for an attractive exterior. lie was
above the middle stature, rather inclined to be stout, and had a face more indica-
tive of strength than refinement. He neither studied nor manifested any thing
like gracefulness in his movements; and bis whole manner would leave upon you
the impression that he attached little importance to any thing merely external.
In his ordinary intercourse he was sociable and agreeable; though he had a
highly bilious, sanguine temperament, which exposed him to become suddenly
ruflied, and occasionally gave to his manner an air of severity.
Dr. Crane's intellect was in keeping with bis person and manners — it was dis-
tinguished, in a high degree, for sound judgment, accurate discrimination, and
rugged strength, but not for the more elegant and graceful qualities. This of
course went far to give the general character to his preaching. His sermons were
not loose and declamatory productions, but were skilfully constructed, having a
distinct plan, w-hich easily impressed itself upon the memory and showed the
workings of a logical and well trained mind. Though he was well qualified by
the structure of his mind for abstract reasoning, his preaching was generally of a
practical cast, designed and adapted to operate directly upon man's moral nature —
I recollect, however, to liave heard him preach, during my residence with him,
several sermons on the doctrine of Election, wliich seemed to me to contain a
remarkably luminous and able, as M'ell as impressive, view of that subject; and
though I, in connection with one of my friends, strongly solicited him to publish
the sermons, he utterly declined. His manner in the pulpit, as well as out of it,
evinced no art, and certainly no extraordinary culture; but it was simple, direct,
honest, and sometimes quite tender and impressive. He evidently had little
regard to style, except as a vehicle of thought; and hence, while his style was
always clear and simple, it had no approach to any thing like ornament. It was
not uncommon for him, when he was about to utter any thing that might seem
severe, to close his eyes and look at his audience only mentally — a peculiarity
which certainly was more striking than attractive. He was accustomed to read
closely in the pulpit; though he never lacked freedom in his more private extem-
poraneous exercises.
Dr. Crane was an extensive reader as well as vigorous thinker; and you could
not converse long with him without having evidence of both. I do not suppose
that he was a highly accurate classical scholar, though be was accustomed to pre-
pare young men for College, and was considered as being thus far a successful
teacher. I remember, when I commenced my studies with him, being somewhat
disheartened by the strange appearance of the Latin, and his saying to me, at my
second recitation in the Grammar — " You can make your memory what you
please — iron, brass, or steel," — meaning that it was susceptible of almost any
216 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
degree of cultivation. I treasured the remark as a ponderous one; and I think I
subsequently derived great benefit i'roin it.
Dr. Crane was a man of truly devotional feelings and habits, and evidently
had the interests of Christ's Kingdom deeply at heart. lie exerted a command-
ing influence in the region in which he resided.
I am very truly yours,
JOEL HAWES.
JOSEPH McKEEN, D. D.
1784—1807.
FROM THE REV. JOHN W. ELLINGWOOD, D. D.
Bath, Me., June 7, 1848.
Dear Sir .: Agreeably to your request, I send you the following brief
account of the Rev. Joseph McKeen, D. D., the first President of
Bowdoin College, under whose ministry I spent my early years.
Joseph McKeen was born in Londonderry, N. H., October 15, 1757.
He was of Scotch origin, — his ancestors having emigrated from Scotland to
the North of Ireland in the reign of James the First. His grandfather,
James McKeen, and his father, Deacon John McKeen, who were of the
Presbyterian faith, came from Ireland to this country about the year 1718 ;
and were both of the company by whom the settlement of his native town
was commenced. At an early age, he engaged in classical studies, under
the tuition of the Rev. Mr. Williams * of Windham, N. H.; and such was
his proficiency that he entered Dartmouth College in the thii'teenth year of
his age. Of his college life but little is known, excepting that he showed a
decided predilection for mathematical studies, — in which he made, while there,
very respectable attainments, — and graduated in 1774 with the reputation
of being a good classical scholar.
On leaving College, he engaged as a school teacher in his native town,
and continued in that employment there for eight years. Within this period,
as is supposed, he united with the Presbyterian church under the pastoral
care of the Rev. Mr. McGregor. In the mean time, when his duties as an
instructor would permit, he employed himself in reviewing his college studies
and extending his acquaintance with general literature. While employed in
this school, his labours were suspended, for a season, by the events of the
Revolutionary war. A pressing call being made for soldiers, he shouldered
his musket and joined the army under General Sullivan, and was with that
officer in his celebrated retreat from Rhode Island. At the expiration of the
eight years above mentioned, he went to Cambridge, and placed himself
under the instruction of Dr. Samuel Williams, then recently appointed to the
Professorship of Mathematics in Harvard College. There he pursued a
• Simon Williams wa,s born in Trim in Ireland in 1729 ; was graduated at the College of New
Jersey in 17o3; was ordained at Windham, N. II., in December, 1766; and died November ICf
1793, aged sixty-four.
JOSEPH McKEEN. 217
course of studies in Natural and Experimental Philosophy, Mathematics and
Astronomy, which had been his favourite studies while an undergraduate.*
At the end of this course, he repaired to Windham, and entered on theo-
logical studies preparatory to the Gospel ministry, and was in due time
examined and licensed as a preacher, by the Londonderry Presbytery, of
which his teacher, the B.ev. Mr. Williams, was a member. About this time,
he was employed, for a considerable period, as an assistant in the Academy
at Andover, then under the preceptorship of Dr. Pearson. After having
preached a while in Boston, with much acceptance, to a society then recently
collected by the Rev. Mr. Moorhead, composed chiefly of " Presbyterian
strangers," he received an invitation to preach as a candidate for settlement
over the First church and society in Beverly, which had been rendered des-
titute of a pastor about five years before, by the elevation of Dr. Willard
to the Presidency of Harvard College. With great unanimity, the church
and parish in Beverly invited him to take the pastoral charge of that flock,
which invitation he accepted ; and, having dissolved his connection with the
Presbytery, he was ordained in May, 1785, being then twenty-seven years
of age. In this place he laboured as a minister of Christ for seventeen
years, till called in providence to the office of President of Bowdoin Col-
lege, then recently established in Brunswick, in the " District of Maine," but
which had not yet gone into operation. He was inaugurated as President,
September 2, 1802 ; and as the College had then'no chapel, and there was no
church in the village, the public services of the occasion were performed in a
grove, a little distance from the site of the present college buildings.
He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Dartmouth
College in 1803.
Dr. McKeen was, in his person, considerably above the ordinary stature,
and of noble appearance. He was dignified, yet simple and conciliatory, in
his manners, of kind and condescending spirit, always gentlemanly and aff"able.
His whole intercourse in the community, as a citizen, was marked with great
urbanity and propriety. In the civil and political councils of his country
he took a deep interest, and was not afraid to avow his sentiments openly
respecting them, both in private and in public, on all suitable occasions.
Sometimes, on days of public Fasting and Thanksgiving, he announced his
political opinions from the pulpit, as was not uncommon in his day ; though
he always did it with great prudence. So judicious was he in all his move-
ments that he rarely gave ofi'ence to persons of any party or sec-t, save to a
very few individuals who were of ultra political views. His unbending
integrity and spotless morals were acknowledged by all, and often applauded
by persons of every class.
As a Christian, Dr. McKeen was decided in his views and consistent in
his practice, — uniformly serious and devout, but without the least appear-
ance of ostentation or austerity. His walk before the church and world was
with an unhalting step, "giving none ofi'ence. neither to the Jews, nor the
Grentiles, nor to the Church of God." So blameless was he in his life that,
though I was a member of his parish for seventeen years, and a part of the
•His attention to mathematics did not cease, even after his settlement in the ministry; for
we are informed that " it was owing to a very nice mathematical calculation, made by Presi-
dent McKccn, while at Beverly, relative to the first ingress of twilight, that a certain criminal
was cleared from the charge of burglary. From this statement it was made to appear that there
must have been some glimmer of solar light on the horizon at a moment considerably earlier
than the general apprehension had fixed." " Alden's Epitaphs."
Vol. II. 2«
218 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
time, of his church, and located near his person, I have no recollection
of ever hearing him charged with the least impropriety of conduct, with
the slight exception above noticed. He emphatically " kept his tongue
with a guard, and his mouth with a bridle," It may well be ques-
tioned whether any man of his day in public life ever came nearer than he
to that apostolical description found in James lll. 2. " If any man offend
not in word, the same is a perfect man, and able also to bridle the whole
body."
President McKeen's theological views were in substantial accordance with
the Assembly's Catechism, — which he taught to the children and youth of his
parish through the whole period of his ministry, — holding annual CatecLis-
ings in diflfercnt districts. I was myself among the number who received
the benefit of his instructions on these occasions, and have a vivid remem-
brance of the solemn impressions made on my mind by some of his remarks.
As a public speaker, Dr, McKeen's voice was clear and strong, and his
articulation and enunciation so distinct that he was easily heard by every
person in his audience, whose hearing was not impaired, although his con-
gregation at Beverly was ordinarily very large, and his place of worshij)
ninety feet long. The style of his sermons was marked by simplicity, .
purity, and strength, and his reasoning was lucid and impressive. His
manner was always solemn, clearly showing that he believed that what he
uttered was important truth, I may safely say that nothing light, or trifling,
or adapted to provoke a smile, ever escaped him in the pulpit,
A few only of Dr, McKeen's productions were given to the public through
the press, — namely, a Fast Sermon, 1793; a Sermon at the ordination of
Rufus Anderson, 1794; a Sermon at the ordination of A, Moore,* 1790;
two Discourses on the Fast, 1798 ; Massachusetts Election Sermon, 1800 ;
a Sermon on the Fast, 1801 ; Inaugural Address at Bowdoin College, 1802 ;
together with some papers in the Transactions of the American Academy.
As a pastor, he was alFcctiouatcly attentive to his flock, and especially in
cases of affliction, was ever ready to sympathize with them, and do all in
his power to assist and comfort them. The territorial limits of his parish
were extensive, and his congregation large, numbering more than three
thousand souls, so that, in visiting the sick and bereaved, he has often been
known to travel on foot from five to eight miles in a day. So fond was he
of pedestrian exercise that he kept no riding establishment, during the
greater part of his ministry. Having the esteem of his people to an
unusual degree, his visits of this description were highly appreciated ; and
complaints of being neglected by him in these respects were, it is believed,
rarely made. It must, however, be admitted that ministerial visiting was
not so much required in those days as now. While other parishes around
were divided and distracted, his was in peace. Although the leaven of
French infidelity was prevalent, to some extent, in his parish, for several
years, yet, by his able instructions and judicious management, it was kept
in check, and finally, to a great degree, rooted out.
So highly was Dr. McKecn esteemed for his attainments in science and
literature, and so distinguished was he for his gentlemanly and Christian
qualities, that his elevation to the Presidency of Bowdoin College gave great
• Abuaham Mooue wus a native of Londonderry. N. H. ; was graduated at Dartmouth Col-
lege in 1789; was ordained pastor of the First church in Newbury, Mass., March 23, 1796; and
iied June 24, 18U1, aged thirty-three years. .
I
JOSEPH McKEEN. 219
satisfaction to the friends of education in New England, and particularly in
Maine ; it being generally supposed that he was eminently qualified to give
form, and solidity, and extended usefulness, to the new institution. Their
expectations were not disappointed ; for, by a discreet munageaient of its
affairs in its infancy, he contributed, in no small degree, to lay the founda-
tion of its future pi'osperity. Not only was he well qualified, by his superior
scholarship, to take charge of the iiistruction of this seminary, but, by
his extensive knowledge of human character, and his mild, yet firm, and
decided, spirit, was eminently fitted for its government. He succeeded well
in the Presidential office, and did all that the friends of the College could
reasonably expect, in promoting its interests ; and loft it, at his decease, in
a flourishing condition. Not only did he exert himself for the advancement
of science and literature, but al;-o for the promotion of piety and religion,
as well in the surrounding community as in the College. I have now before
me, in the hand-writing of Dr. McKeen, a constitution of a Missionary
Society for the District of Maine, called the " Eastern Missionary Society,"
which must have been drawn up before any Missionary Society was formed
in the District. How long before his death this constitution was written is
not known ; but as he died in 1807, and the Maine Missionary Society was
not formed till the next year, the presumption is that it was the first of the
kind ever prepared in Maine.
In September, 1805, when he had been at the head of the College four
years, he was attacked by what was thought to be a disease of the liver, —
which terminated in dropsy, and put an end to his valuable life, July 15,
1807, in the fiftieth year of his age. His long and distressing illness he
bore with Christian submission and fortitude, and deep humility. Towards
the close of life, the fifty-first Psalm was his favourite subject of meditation
and conversation. Deeply sensible of his ill-desert as a sinner, and relying
on God's free and sovereign mercy in Jesus Christ, this distinguished man
fell on sleep and was gathered to his fathers.
With respect and afi"ection,
I am, my dear Sir, your friend and brother,
JOHN W. ELLINGWOOD.
FROM ROBERT RANTOUL, ESQ.
Beverly, March 28, 1849.
Dear Sir: I cheerfuUj^ comply with your request for some brief notices of the
Rev. Dr. ^IcKccn, who was formerly settled in the ministry lierc. My recollec-
tions of him arc as distinct as thev arc agreeable.
Dr. McKeen inherited from his father an admirable constitution of body. From
his early years he was strong and athletic, and, at the juvenile age, excelled in
all those manly sports and exercises to which the hardy yeomanry of our coun-
try were then accustomed. After his settlement in the ministry in Beverly, he
.sometimes indulged liiniself in athletic sports. An occasional visitor at liis house
boasted, in the presence of Dr. McKeen, of liis power and skill in the exercise of
wrestling; whereupon the Doctor invited him to retire to a suitable place that
tliey might make trial of their abilities in that way. The visitor accepted the
invitation; and, after repeated experiments and repeated falls, acknowledged that
it was not always the case that when the black coat was put on, the man was
eft off.
He posses.sed a strong and discriminating mind, was of a cheerful temperament,
and devoted himself with unwearied industry to the promotion of science and
220 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
religion: indeed his talents, acquirements, and unostentatious piety gave him an
honourable rank among the distinguished men of his day. Mildness and firm-
ness were united in his spirit, dignity and urbanity in his manners. Habitual
cheerfulness joined to his other excellent qualities, rendered him a most agreeable
companion, lie did not scruple, on proper occasions, to join in scenes of moder-
ate conviviality, though, in doing so, he never lost sight of the dignity of his
office as a Christian minister.
Dr. ^IcKeen's publications consisted chiefly of some pieces in the Transactions
of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences and a few occasional sermons.
The sermon which probably excited more interest than any other which he ever
published, and which is still vividly remembered by some of his parishioners, was
a Fast Sermon which he preached in 1801, immediately after the violent struggle
which issued in the discomfiture of the Federal party and the election of Thomas
Jefferson to the Presidential chair. The subject of the sermon was " Speaking
evil of Ilulcrs." The licentiousness of the press and of the tongue had never
before met with so much indulgence as during this Presidential canvass. To
check this evil became the duty of all good men; but it was a duty from which
many pusillanimouslj^ shrunk. Dr. McKeen preached to a congregation who were
very generally disappointed, displeased, irritated, with the result of the election.
They were warned against the sin of indulging a propensity to speak evil of the
rulers who had succeeded in attaining to office, in opposition to their strong
wishes and earnest efforts; and they were exhorted to wait patiently for the
measures of the new administration and to judge of them with candour. " No
one," saj^s he, " who is really a friend of good order and government thinks it
of so much importance, who docs the business of the State as how it is done. He
will never cmplo)' scurrility and abuse to displace those who are in office, whether
they conduct well or ill. If they conduct well, it is of little consequence who
they are; and if they conduct ill, it is better to endure that ill, than to employ
scandalous and malicious falsehoods to displace them." His sermofl, however
much it contravened the views and feelings of heated partisans, was generally
well received, much read, and doubtless had no inconsiderable influence in moder-
ating the excessive violence of party spirit.
Dr. McKeen, in his theological views, so long at least as he continued the pas-
tor of our church, ranked with the class who, at that day, were called moderate
Calvinists. In consequence of this, some individuals in his parish, who preferred
rather a higher type of orthodoxy, worshipped, at least a part of the time, in
Salem, — a distance of two miles, where there were one or two churches in which
somewhat stricter views of theological truth were supposed to be inculcated.
Some of these persons, however, who had complained somewhat of Dr. McKeen's
doctrinal views, while he was here, after his removal to Bowdoin College, became
satisfied that he Avas not otherwise than orthodox, according to their own defini-
tion of the term.
Dr. McKeen interested himself much in the management of our public schools,
and aided in the establishment of a public librarj', as well as in various other
measures designed to improve the inhabitants of the town in knowledge, virtue,
and happines.<?. In April, 179G, it was voted unanimously at a town meeting
" that a Memorial be presented to Congress, praying that provision be made to
carry into effect the treaty between Great Britain and the United States," com-
monly known as " Jay's Treaty;" and Dr. McKeen, with four others, waa
appointed to draw up and forward to Congress such a memorial. He accordingly
prepared and signed this paper. It contained such views of public affairs as would
always be taken by a true patriot, and was so devoid of party allusions as to
command the votes and secure the approbation of men of both the leading par-
ties, although there was great political excitement in reference to the Treaty.
Dr. McKeen's popularity and influence were necessary to secure unanimity on the
JOSEPH McKEEN. 221
occasion, when party spirit had alienated the leading men, and had spread its
baneful influence far and wide in the mass of society.
I am very respectfully, dear Sir, your obedient servant,
ROBERT RANTOUL.
SAMUEL AUSTIN, D. D *
1784—1830
Samuel Austin, the son of Samuel and Lydia Austin, was born at
New Haven, Conn., October 7, 1760. His parents were persons of exem-
plary piety and reputable standing in life. They were eminently faithful
in the education of their children, and were privileged to know that their
parental vigilance and fidelity were attended with the Divine blessing.
Samuel, the eldest of their two children, when be was only a boy of six-
teen, was a soldier in the army, having taken, the place of his father, who
had been drafted to perform military service. In this capacity he served
until the British took possession of the city of New York, when he received
his discharge and returned home ; and, for several succeeding years, he
was employed partly in the public service, and partly in teaching school.
At the age of about twenty, having determined to devote himself to the
legal profession, he commenced the study of Law, under the direction of
Judge Chauncy, in his native town. But, as he soon came to feel the need
of a more thorough course of intellectual discipline, in order to ensure the
success which his ambition coveted, he exchanged the study of the Law for
the study of the classics, and, by dint of earnest application, became fitted
for, and was actually admitted to, an advanced standing in Yale College,
in the summer of 1781.
Of the commencement of his religious experience nothing very definite
is known. He seems to have been first permanently impressed with Divine
truth while he was preparing for College; and, from some incidental
remarks which he is remembered to have made, it has been inferred that
his convictions of sin were unusually deep and pungent. In July of the
same year that he entered College, he made a public profession of his faith,
and was admitted to communion in the College church.
Every one who has had experience, knows how great are the temptations
and hindrances to spiritual culture, incident to a collegiate course ; but Mr.
Austin met them all with great firmness and in humble reliance on Divine
grace; insomuch that the years of his college life were years of decided
and distinguished growth in Christian character. The diary which he kept
during this critical period is still in existence, and shows that he regarded
nothing in comparison with the evidence of the Divine favour, and that no
engagements were so pressing as to be allowed to interrupt those more spi-
ritual duties in which the life of religion especially consists.
But, while the culture of the heart was evidently with him the great
concern, this never interfered with his appropriate duties as a student ; —
on the contrary, it was no doubt rendered subservient to his intellectual
• Tcnney's Fun. Scrm. — Amcr. Quart. Keg. IX.
222 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
progress ; for he h:i(l an excellent reputation as a scholar through his whole
course. Among the eminent men who belonged to his class wjre David
Daggett, Abiel Holmes, Jedediah Morse, and John Cotton Smith, all of
whom subsequently became identiliod with the history of their country.
Shortly after ho was graduated in ITHIi, he eonmieneed a course of theo-
logical study under the diix-ction of the Kev. Dr. .Jonathan Edwards, then
of New Haven, and, at the same time, engaged in teaching a Grammar
school. In the summer of 1784, he accepted an invitation to take charge
of an Academy, then recently established at Norwich, Conn.; though he
did it reluctantly, as it involved the necessity of postponing his entrance
upon the duties of his profession. He, however, still continued his theo-
logical studies, and was also abundant in his private religious labours.
In October, 1784, he was licensed to preach the Gospel by the Associa-
tion of New London county, then in session at Lebanon. His first sermon
wa8 preached at Chelsea, (Norwich landing,) on the succeeding Sabbath, and
was rendered specially interesting and affecting, by its having reference to
the death of a young man whose funeral had occurred the day before. He
continued his connection with the Academy until the autumn of 1785,—
generally supplying some pulpit in the Tieighbourhood on the Sabbath, —
when he resigned his place as a teacher, with a view to give himself fully
to the work of the ministry. From the very commencement of his labours,
he was regarded as among the most popular and promising young preachers
of the day.
As he was journeying to Philadelphia shortly after this, he stopped in
the city of New York, and preached with so much acceptance in one of the
Collegiate Reformed Dutch Churches, of which Dr. John H. Livingston
was then a pastor, that he was solicited to settle as his colleague. It is
understood that he declined the proposal from conscientious scruples about
becoming connected with a church which recognised, as that did, the " Half-
way Covenant."
He was subsequently called to the pastorate in Hampton, Conn.; but
this invitation also he felt constrained to decline." But, in the autumn of
1786, he received a call from the Society of Fair-Haven, (New Haven,)
which he accepted. He was duly set apart to the pastoral office, on the
9th of November, and, at the same time, his classmate, Morse, afterwards
Dr. Morse of Charlcstown, was ordained as an Evangelist. The Sermon on
the occasion was preached by Dr. Edwards, and the Charge given by Pre-
sident Stiles.
On the 14th of September, 1788, he was married to Jerusha, daughter
of the Rev. Dr. Samuel Hopkins, of Hadley, Mass. She proved a most
alBfectioiiate and devoted wife, and was always a helper to both his comfort
and usefulness. Thoy had no children.
The church of which Mr. Austin now became pastor, had formerly been
a part of that with whieh Dr. Edwards was connected ; and it was thought
best, after some time, owing to various circumstances, that the original
union should be restored. In order that this arrangement might take effect,
Mr. Austin, after having served them about three years, resigned his pasto-
ral charge. The First Congregational society in Worcester, Mass., having,
previous to his dismission, become apprised of his intentions, sent him an
invitation to become their pastor, as soon as he should be at liberty. This
invitation he, in due time, accepted, and was installed minister of the said
I
SAMUEL AUSTIN 223
Bociety on the 29th of September, 1790. Dr. Hopkins, his father-in-law,
preached on the occasion.
At Worcester he continued labouring diligently and faithfully during a
period of nearly twenty-five years. The "Half-way Covenant," which had
prevented his acceptance of the call from New York, had been in use in the
church with which he now became connected ; but it was given up as a con-
dition of his accepting the pastoral charge. The church gradually increased
in spirituality under his ministry ; and, for several of the last years, it
seemed to enjoy an almost uninterrupted blessing. It was favoured with
an extensive revival not long after he left it, which was no doubt to bo
regarded, in a great measure, as the fruit of his labours.
But his usefulness was by no means limited to his own immediate charge.
He directed the theological studies of a considerable number of young men
in their preparation for the ministry ; and among them was the late Dr.
Samuel Worcester, who, especially from his connection with the missionary
enterprise, has left an imperishable name. He was one of the prime origi-
nators of the General Association of Massachusetts. He assisted in the
formation of the Massachusetts Missionary Society, in which also he held
the offices of Trustee and Secretar}^ until he left the State. He preached
on many special occasions, and his wisdom was often put in requisition in
settling ecclesiastical difficulties. But one of the most important services
that he rendered during this period, was his collecting and editing the works
of the elder President Edwards. It was a laborious task, but he performed
it with excellent judgment, and to the general satisfaction of the Christian
community.
In 1807, he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Williams
College.
In 1815, Dr. Austin was called to the Presidency of the University of
Vermont. That institution, which, in 1791, had been incorporated and
liberally endowed by the Legislature of the State, had, from a train of cir-
cumstances, been involved in great embarrassment, and, for a considerable
time, seemed to be on the point of extinction. During the war of 1812, it
was quite abandoned, and the College edifices, occupying one of the most
beautiful spots in New England, were used as barracks for the soldiers. It
was shortly after the termination of the war, — when the institution was
actually at its lowest point, that its friends determined to make an effort
for its resuscitation ; and then it was tliat Dr. Austin was called to the
Presidential chair. Notwithstanding he was greatly endeared to his congre-
gation, and exerted an important influence, not only among them, but in the
community at large, he believed, on the whole, that the providence of God
indicated that he should accept the appointment ; and, accordingly, he did
accept it, and was inducted into office as President on the last Wednesday
of July, 1815. It was a (jucstion with many of his friends whether this
was not an ill-advised step; and it is understood that he himself afterwards
had serious doubts whether he had not mistaken his duty.
His connection with the College continued about six years. Though he
was indefatigable in his labours, and perhaps accomplished as much as hf
had a right to expect, under the great embarrassments to which the institu-
tion was subjected, yet the result of his eff"orts was, by no means, equal to
his expectations ; and, after struggling with various difficulti*^?' and encounter-
ing many disappointments, in the effort to raise the College from it« depresaad
224 TRINITAHIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
state, lie, finally, tliough not without having accomplished an important
work, re.-<igned his office as President. He ha<l found that he loved nc
cmplovment so well as the ministry ; and, during his residence at Burling-
ton, he was occupied very generally on the Sahbath in preaching to some
destitute congregation in the neighhourhood.
From Burlington Dr. Austin went to reside in Newport, li. I., where he
took the pastoral charge of a feeble church, formerly under the care of Dr.
Samuel Hopkins. He chose this as his field of labour, and actually wrote
to the people, frankly profi"ering them his services. They gladly and grate-
fully aceoptid his proposal, and accordingly he planted himself down among
them, and continued for four years their spiritual guide. At length, how-
ever, finding that the infirmities of age were accumulating upon him, and
that his health was perceptibly on the decline, and withal being probably
somewhat discouraged by the continued depression of the church, he resigned
his pastoral charge, and returned to "Worcester, with an intention to pass
the evening of his life in the circle of friends among wliom he had so hap-
j)ily lived during many of his earlier years. He went to reside in the family
of a nephew, whom he had adopted and educated as a son ; but scarcely
had he become settled in his new home, before his nephew was attacked by
a disease which medical skill could not arrest, and which, within a brief
period, terminated his life. In consequence of this afflictive event, he was
obliged to make other domestic arrangements, — and not only so, but in the
attempt to settle his nephew's estate, which unexpectedly proved insolvent,
he became involved in serious pecuniary difficulties, and, at one time, by
some incautious management, had come near to sacrificing the whole of his
own property. At the same time, his sympathies were strongly awakened
m behalf of the widow and three fatherless children, who were to be cast
helpless upon the world. These adverse circumstances operated with great
j>ower upon both his physical and mental constitution, and it soon became
apparent to his friends that he was sinking into a deep, and as it proved, a
protracted and incurable melancholy.
When his mind first became unstrung, it was occupied almost entirely with
those pecuniary difficulties to which his attention had been so much and so
painfully directed. But, after a short time, it took a different turn, and
became absorl)ed in the most gloomy views of his own spiritual condition.
He was writing bitter things against himself continually. When the con-
solations of the Gospel were proflferred to him, he refused them, on the
ground that he belonged not to the class by whom they could be legitimately
claimed. Such were his paroxysms of mental anguish, that it was painful
in the extreme even to witness them. Still there was evidence, not only in
spite of them, but growing out of them, that he had formed a mistaken
estimate of his own character, and was really in the exercise of some of the
sweetest of the Christian graces ; for that which chiefly occasioned his agony, was
the prospect of a separation from a holy (lod and from all his holy creatures.
In March, 1827, he went to reside with his brother-in-law, John Hopkins,
Esq., of Northampton. But the change of residence had no salutary effect
upon the state of his mind — the cloud which had enveloped him so long,
continued as thick and dark as ever.
In the summer of 1828. he went to live with his nephew, the Rev. Samuel
H. Riddel, then of Glastenbury, Conn., where he remained till death gave
liim a release from the burden which had so long oppressed hrra. For a few
SAMUEL AUSTIN. 225
months previous to his death, his complaints were so far alleviated, and his
Bpirit.s so fur revived, as to awaken some hope in his friends that he might
emerge entirely from the cloud. But this hope God did not permit them
to realize. Just at the time when his prospects for recovery seemed the
brightest, death came and summoned him away. Two days previous to his
departure, he seemed rather more feeble than usual, but there was no change
to excite any serious apprehension. The next morning, he seemed still more
indisposed, and apparently noticed little that was passing around him; and
once he was heard to exclaim with great fervour of spirit, "Blessed Jesus,
blessed Jesus, sanctify me wholly I " Shortly after this, he complained of
drowsiness, and quickly fell into an apoplectic sleep, out of which he awoke
into the next world. He died on Saturday evening, the 4th of December,
1830, in the seventy-first year of his age. His funeral was attended on the
succeeding Wednesday, when an appropriate discourse was delivered by the
Rev. Dr. Tcnney of Wethersfield, from John xili, 7.
The following is a list of Dr. Austin's publications : — A Funeral Oration
on Mr. David Ripley, of Windham, a Junior Sopliister in Yale College, 1782.
A Sermon delivered at Exeter, Conn., on occasion of the death of Benjamin
and Mary Smith, 1790. Disinterested Love, the ornament of the Christian
and the duty of man: A Sermon at New York, 1790. A Sermon at Wor-
cester on the Lord's day inimediately succeeding his installation, 1790. A
Sermon on the death of Hannah Blair, 1794. A Thanksgiving Sermon, 179(i.
A Sermon at the ordination of Samuel Worcester at Fitchburgh. and of
Natlianiel Hall,* 1797. A Sermon entitled •' True oV.edience to the Cospel
harmonious and entire," in a volume of " Sermons on important subjects,"
1797. An Oration at Worcester on the Fourth of July, 1798. A Sermon
at the ordination of Leonard Worcester, at Pcaeham, Vt., 1799. A Sermon
before the Mas.'^achusetts Mis.-^ionury Society. 1803. A Sermon at the
installation of the Rev. Samuel Worcester at Salem, 1803. An Examina-
tion of the Rev. Daniel Merrill'st Seven Sermons on Baptism, 1805. Mr.
Merrill's defensive armour taken from him, 180G. A view of the economy
of the Church of God as it existed primitively under the Abrahamic dis-
pen.sation and the Sinai law, 8vo, 1807. A Sermon at the ordination of
John Milton Whiton at Antrim, N. H., 1808. A Sermon at the ordination
of Warren Fay at Brimfield, 1808. A Sermon at the dedication of a new
meeting house at Hadley, 1808. Tv/o Sermons entitled, "The incompara-
ble excellency of religion as the life of man," and "God glorified in build-
ing up Zion ;" published in the Columbian Preacher, 1S08. A Fast Sei'mon,
1811. A Sermon at the ordination of John Nelson at Leicester, 1812. A
Sermon on the Special Fast, 181'J. A Sermon on the National Fast, ISlli.
A Sermon at the ordination of Gamaliel S Olds at Greenfield, 1813. Inaugu-
ral Address as President of the University of ^'^ermont, 1815. Vermont
Election Sermon, 1810. Protest against the Proceedings of the First Church
• Nathaniel Hall was graduated at Dartmntith College in 1790; was ordained p.'\.«tor ot •
church in (Jranville, N. Y.. October 4, 171(7 ; and di(!d in 1820.
f Dajiiel Merrill was a native of Danvers, Mnsf. ; was gradnated at Dartmouth Collcga
in 17d"J; was ordained pastor of the church in Sedpnick, Me., September 17, 17'.i.T; professed »
change of scnlimcnts on the subject of Hapti.eni in 1804; was immersed, with about eighty
others, mostly members of his church, on the l.''th of May. 180.^: when a Unptist church wm
constituted, and he was re-ordained as its pastor. He j nbli.ihprl Moile and .^ubjertf of Biiptictn
examined in Seven .Sermons; to which is added a Mini:\turc History of the Haptisis, (Tenth
edition,) 1812. Eight Letters on Open roinniutiion, a'ldrejsed to the IXrr. Uwfs .Anderaon,
1806; Letters occasioned by the Rev. Samuel Worcester's two Discourses, 1807; Balaam disap-
pointed : Thanksgiving Sermon at Nottingham West, 1S15. Mr. Merrill died in 1833.
Vol.. n. 20
226 TKINITArJAX CONGREGATIONAL.
Worcester, 1821. An Oration on the Fourth of July, at Newport, 1822.
A Sermon at the dedication of a new meeting-house at Worcester, 1823. A
Discourse before the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions,
1824. An Oration at Worcester on the Fourth of July, 1825.
FROM THE REV. PAYSON WILLISTON.
East Hampton, August 3, 1855.
Dear Sir: My recollections of my class-mate, Austin, are of the most agreeable
kind. He comes up to me now, as he was, when I first met him at College, — a
tall, stately young man, somewhat of a ruddy countenance, and a lively, bright
eye, of fine powers of conversation, and of frank and pleasant, though not highly
cultivated, manners. He was decidedly among the best scholars in our class, and
graduated with one of the highest honours. His Commencement Oration was
among the best ijcrformances of its kind that I ever listened to. It evinced
uncommon ingenuity, and elicited inten.se approbation.
After we separated at College, our meetings were never very frequent, though I
occasionally saw liim at New Haven, and once at least at "Worcester, at a meeting
of the General As.sociation of Massachusetts. He was a person of kindly affections
and dignified deportment, though he was constitutionally subject to fits of hypo-
chondria, which gave a tinge of sadness to his social character, and no doubt
interfered considerably with his usefulness, especially towards the close of his
life. His mind was cast in a somewhat philosophical mould, and he delighted in
traversing the remoter regions of thought; and I am inclined to think that his
preaching was sometimes of a more abstract character than was best suited to
edify the mass of hearers. In his manner he was simple, direct, and earnest; and
sometimes evinced a very considerable degree of feeling. There was a good deal
of variety in his tones, and a manifest fervour and unction pervading all that he
said, which could scarcely fail to make a strong impression. His Theology was,
I suppose, of nearly the same type with that of Dr. Hopkins, author of the
" System of Divinity;" and, if I mistake not, he attached much importance to
the peculiarities of that System. Some of my impressions in respect to him
have been received from others, though they fully accord with what I have known
of him personally, and I have reason to believe that they are substantially
correct.
I might probably add to what I have said, but presuming that I hare said
enough for your purpose, I subscribe myself
Yours most affectionately,
PAYSON WILLISTON.
FROM THE REV. JAMES MURDOCK, D. D.
PROFESSOR SUCCESSIVELY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF VERMONT AND THK THEOLOGIOAL
SEMINARY AT ANDOVER.
New Haten, January 25, 1848.
Rev. and dear Sir: So many years have elapsed since I was associated with Dr.
Austin, that my impressions respecting his character have lost much of their
former vividness and minute accuracy; and as Dr. Caleb J. Tenney, who resided
several months in his family, and who knew him well, has given a far better
description of this excellent man than I could form at this late period, I beg leave
to copy some of the outlines of his description, as being the best account which I
can furnish you. It is as follows: —
"Tall, erect, and manly in his person, he was dignified and courtly in his
manners. He was highly affectionate in his disposition, refined and noble in his
feelings. His intellect was superior — its operations were marked by rapidity,
vigour, and general accuracy. His views were peculiarly enlarged and compre-
hensive, which, aided by a vivid and strong imagination, enabled him to present
SAMUEL AUSTIN. 227
subjects "with great copiousness of language and sublimity of description." Dr
Tenney next mentions, with much delicacy, the chief defect in his character, viz:
'"his constitutional susceptibihty to the influence of circumstances," 'which fre-
quently embarrassed his intellectual operations, and occasionally led him to an
unhappy precipitancy of judgment and of purpose. " His piety was habitual and
ardent, deep and discriminating. As a writer for the pulpit, his mind was origi-
nal and fertile; his style at once copious and discriminating; and his discourses
alwayji instructive and interesting, doctrinal and persuasive. In delivery, he was
animated and vehement; in his whole manner, he was affectionate, dignified, and
commanding; while, occasionally, he rose to high and powerful eloquence. The
topics on which he delighted most to dwell were the benevolence, the sovereignty,
and the glory, of God; the great sj'stem of redemption; the character of Christ
and his sutl'erings, with their extensive results upon the universe, and especially in
the sanctitication and salvation of his chosen people. His ministry, as well as his
private and pastoral services, was eminently conducive to the growth of Christians
in knowledge and conformity to God. In the appropriateness, and enlargement,
and spiritual glowing fervour of his public devotions, he has seldom been excelled."
While I state mj- conviction of the perfect accuracy of the preceding description,
so far as it relates to the person and character of Dr. Austin, as a man and a
preacher, I will add, from my own personal knowledge, that, as the President of
a College, he was faithful to his trust. His efforts to promote the interests of the
College were untiring; and he enjoyed, in a high degree, the respect and confi-
dence of the public. He presided with dignity and urbanity, and treated all
around him with courtesy and kindness. For the spiritual welfare of his pupils
he was deeply solicitous; and if his knowledge in the physical sciences, in philo-
logy and general literature, was^ in an}' degree deficient in precision and accuracy,
it was yet various and comprehensive. In the metaphj-sical sciences, and parti-
cularly in moral and mental philosophy, he was, for that day, an able and inter-
esting instructor. All his pupils respected and loved him; and to his subordi-
nate officers he was uncommonly afiectionate and kind.
I will only add, that I am,
Dear Sir, respectfully yours,
JAMES MURDOCK.
FROM THE REV. JOHN NELSON, D. D.
Leicester, Mass., May 12, 1852.
Dear Sir: It would aflbrd me unmingled pleasure to give you my recollections
of the late Dr. Samuel Austin, if I felt more competent to do justice to his memory.
I had, it is true, the opportunity of a protracted and intimate acquaintance Avith
him; having statedh' attended upon his ministry for a considerable period;
having been a member of his church, and, for some time, while pursuing my theo-
logical studies, an inmate of his family; and I may add, having regarded him as
a father and friend from early youth, until I had been in the ministry, in his
immediate neighbourhood, for some three years.
Nothing is more indelibly impressed on mj' memory than the fine commanding
person, the dark and somewhat thin, yet strongly marked, features, of this ven-
erable man. His air was dignified, and his whole bearing gentlemanly. He was
sometimes depressed; but, foT the most part, especially in conversation, his coun-
tenance wore a cheerful and animated expression. He had indeed in the pulpit a
solemnity of manner almost amounting to sternness; but I think this resulted
chiefly from the deep sense which he had of the importance of his office and his
message. In the family and the social circle he was agreeable and instructive;
equally removed from the two extremes of levity and austerity. In the discharge
of his pastoral duties ho was diligent and affectionate; and always showed that
228 TIUMTARIAN CONGUEGATIONAL.
his coinuianding object was to do good to his people, especially in regard to their
liigher and immortal interests, lie possessed an ardent temperament, wliich gave
a complexion, in a great degree, to the whole conduct of his life. His prayers
were evidently tiic breathings of a deep and earnest devotion. It was manifest
that he had an uncommonly impressive sense of tiie Divine presence, and pleaded
with ills Maker as a man pleads with his friend.
While he was faithful and attentive as a pastor, always manifesting the ten-
derest solicitude for his people, he devoted mucli of his time to study. His mind
was vigorous rather than polished; and his sermons were far less distinguished
for elegance than strength. His object seemed to be to set forth the strongest
truths in tiie strongest manner. 1 am not sure but that his exuberant use of
terrible imagery, rather lessened the efiect of his preaching: his hearers became so
mucli accustomed to startling representations and appeals that the}^ in a measure,
ceased to be moved by them. His preaching was always instructive, and he
rarely, if ever, got through a discourse without some burst of highly impassioned
eloquence. It was a remark of a plain but excellent woman of his church, that
" she loved to hear Dr. Austin preach, because he so roused her up by the good
spots in his sermons."
In the earlier i)art of his ministry, his Theolog)'', like that of some other of the
most prominent Divines of Massachusetts, partook pretty strongly of the char-
acter of Ilopkinsianism. AYhether his opinions were modified or not in the latter
part of his life, I do not know; but it is certain that he gave far less prominence
to the peculiarities of the system which he had been understood to hold. I think
it may be said with truth that, in no period of his ministry, did he allow his
mctaphj-sics to usurp the place which belongs to Bible truth.
One misrepresentation that has gone abroad extensively in regard to Dr. Austin's
religious belief, I feel it my duty and privilege, as it is in my power, to correct.
It has been very currently reported and believed that he preached the doctrine of
infant damnation, using the most offensive language on the subject that can well
be imagined. I can truly say that, during the whole time that I sat under hia
ministry, 1 never heard a word from him, cither in the pulpit or out of it, to
favour such an idea; — and more than that, — I once told him that such a charge
had been made against him, and repeated to him the expression which it was
alleged that he had used; and he assured me that the allegation was utterly
untrue, and that he viewed the sentiment with perfect abhorrence.
I can never cease to think of this venerable man with reverence and aflection.
lears have passed away since he descended to the tomb, but his image is
impressed indelibly upon my memory and heart.
Very truly and affectionately yours,
JOHN NELSON.
JEREMlAa HALLOCK. 229
JEREMIAH HALLOCK *
1784— 182G.
JEREMiAn Hallock Wiis borii at Brookhaven, Long Island, March 13,
1758. He was the son of William and Alice (Honian) Ilallock, and was
the oldest of nine children v/ho lived to maturity. When he was about eight
years old, his father removed with his family to Chesterfield, (now Goshen,)
Mass. Here he remained till he was twenty-one, laboriously engaged in
assisting his father to bring under cultivation an entirely new farm. He
was twice called out to perform military service during the Revolution, and, in
two or three instances, experienced a remarkable deliverance from impend-
ing death.
As he was favoured with a strictly religious education, he was often the
subject of serious impressions during his childhood and youth ; but it was
not till a revival of religion that occurred in the year 1779, just after he
had reached his majority, that he attained to the consolations of " a good
hope through grace." From the very beginning of his Christian life, he
seems to have had the deepest sense of the worth of the soul, and a most
intense desire to promote the spiritual interests of his fellow men. He not
only conversed privately, and in great fidelity, with those around him, in
respect to their eternal well-being, but accustomed himself to take part in
meetings for prayer and religious conference.
He began now almost immediately to meditate the purpose of entering
the sacred ministry. With a view to this, he went to Northampton, and
became a member of Mr. (afterwards President) Dwight's school. Here,
though he was one of the oldest of the scholars, he found himself among
the most deficient in learning. For the study of Latin, which he now com-
menced, he had little relish ; and indeed it was difficult for him to realize
that the time was not lost which was devoted to any thing else than the
immediate spiritual duties of religion. After remaining a few weeks at this
school, his health began to decline ; his religious comforts, in a great degree,
left him ; and he went home abandoning all hope of being a minister of the
(iospel, and expecting to spend his days in labouring on a farm. After his
■studies had been thus suspended about three months, there was such mani-
fest improvement in the state of both iiis body and mind, that the hope and
purpose of devoting himself to the ministry began to revive. He accord-
ingly returned to Mr. Dwight's school, where he spent part of the next year
in the study of Latin ; and subsequently, for about eighteen months, he
pursued his studies under the instruction of the Rev. Mr. Stronc; t of
Williamsburgh.
• Memoir by the Rev. C. Yale.
t-JoSKPH Stuono was a descendant in the fourth generation from Elder John Strong of
Xorthampton, and a son of .losoph Strong of Coventry, Conn., where he was born in the year
172y. lie was graduated at Yale Collcge'in 17 19 ; was ordained pastor of the church at Salmon
Brook, (nowGranby,) Conn., in 1752; resigned his charge in 1770; was a Chaplain to the Con-
necticut troops on Long Island in 1776; was installed pastor of the church in Uilliamgburgh,
Mass., December 2ti, 1781; and died January 1, 180H, aged seventy-four. He publifhcd a
Sermon at the ordination of Starling Graves: [who was graduated at Yale College in 17(15; was
ordained pastor of the church in Hartland, Conn., June 29, 1708; and died in 1772:1 a Dis-
course on the death of the Rev. Gideon Mills; L^l-.o was born at AVindsor, August 15, 1715;
was fitted for College bv his elder brother, the Rev. Jcdcdi;ih MiHs of Ripton, Conn. ; was grad-
uated ut Yale College "in 17."7: was ordained pastor of the first church in Simsbury, Septem-
230 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
On the 8th of March, 1781, he made a public profession of his faith, and
united with the church in Goshen.
In September, 1782, he supposed himself fitted for College. On the
invitation of Mr. Abraham Fowler,* who had preached at Goshen as a can-
didate, and with whom he had formed an agreeable acquaintance, he set
out, towards the close of May, 1783, for his house in West Simsbury, Conn.,
with a view to study with him during the summer. Here he continued until
the close of September following, when he went to I'eside with the llev.
Samuel J. Mills of Torringford, with whom he had previously formed an
acquaintance. He was now brought in contact with many excellent minis-
ters, whose society he greatly valued, and from whom he received much
valuable instruction and counsel. In December he left Torringford, and
went to Stockbridge, where he resumed his studies, under the direction of
the llev. Dr. Stephen West. It was his intention, after he had been here
a few weeks, to offer himself to be examined by the Association with a view
to licensure ; and he made two attempts to do so ; but in each case was
defeated by a violent storm, that prevented the Association from assembling.
By the advice of Dr. West, he then applied to the Association of Hampshire
County to examine hi-m ; but they declined, partly in consideration of his
not having received a collegiate education, and partly because they had a
rule which required that all candidates for licensure should be previously
introduced and recommended by some one of their own body. Mr. Hallock
now returned to Goshen, not a little dispirited by this result ; and so much
were some of his friends disappointed and dissatisfied by it, that they were
inclined to encourage him to preach, even without being regularly licensed;
but he refused to listen to any such suggestions, not doubting that if it were
the will of Providence that he should enter the ministry, the way would, in
due time, be made clear for him.
Having now spent about seven weeks in Goshen, during which he was
employed in reading theological works, instructing a few youth, and exert-
ing himself, in various ways, for the advancement of the cause of Christ, he
returned to Stockbridge early in April, with a view to make another attempt
to meet the Berkshii-e Association. In this he was successful ; and the
result was that he was duly approved as a candidate for the Gospel ministry.
Mr. Hallock's first sermon was preached at Lee, on the Sabbath immedi-
ately succeeding his licensure. Shortly after, he received an invitation to
supply the pulpit in West Simsbury, and another to remain at Goshen,
where his early days had chiefly been spent. He accepted the former invi-
tation, and entered the field of his future labours, the latter part of June.
ber 5, 1 744 ; resigned his charge for want of an adequate support, after about ten years ; was
installed pastor of the West ehurch in Simsbury, February 18, 1761; and died August 4, 1772,
in the fifty-seventh year of his age, and the twenty-eighth of his ministry;] the Church of
Christ one, under the old and new dispensations, &c., 1783; two Sermons in a volume entitled
"Sermons on various important doctrines and duties of the Christian religion,'' 1799. Mr. Strong
had a son .Joseph, who was born in (Jranby, April 7, 175G; was graduated at Yale College in 1784:
after studying Theology under his father's direction, was licensed to preach by the Hampshire
Association, August 2, 1785; after preaching for some time as a missionary in Maine, was
ordained pastor of the church in Heath, Mass., October 27, 1790; was dismissed June 10, 1803;
was a settled pastor in Eastbury, a parish of Glastenbury, Conn., from 1806 to 1818; then
resided successively at South Hadley and Belchertown, Mass., and Preble, N. Y. ; and died at
the house of his son, Professor Theodore Strong, in Clinton, N. Y., December 19, 1823, in his
sixty -eighth year.
* AfluAnAM Fowler was a native of Lebanon, Conn.; was graduated at Yale College in
1776 ; preached for some time as a stated supply at West Simsbury, Conn. ; was ordained pastor
of the church in Salem, (Waterbury) Conn., in 1785; resigned his charge in 1800; was installed
pastor of the church in Milton (Litchfield) in 1807; and died in 1815.
JEREMIAH HALLOCK. 231
After spending several weeks at West Simsbufy, Mr. Hallock, by request,
vLited Ware in Massachusetts, where his labours were attended with an
abundant blessing, and he received an invitation to settle in the ministry ;
which, however, he thought it his duty to decline. He then returned to
Groshen for a few Sabbaths, and there also was invited to remain ; but was
constrained to think that the providence of God pointed him back to West
Simsbury, where a call had already been made out for him. The principal
ground on which he hesitated in regard to the acceptance of it, seems to
have been, that he had a strong desire to devote his life to itinerant preach-
ing ; but, after a season of distressing perplexity to himself, and of painful
suspense on the part of the people, he was enabled to give an afl&rmative
answer to the call. The arrangements for his ordination were accordingly
made; and on the 26th of October, 1785, he was solemnly inducted into
office, the ordination sermon being preached by the Rev. Mr. Mills.
In the spring of 1785, Mr. Hallock was married to Mercy, daughter of
Oliver Humphrey, of West Simsbury, and sister of the wife of the Rev.
Mr. Fowler, with whom Mr. H. had partly prosecuted his theological
course. She proved one of the best of wives, was admirably fitted for the
place into which she was thrown, and adorned every relation she sustained.
In September, 1788, the degree of Master of Arts was conferred upon
him by Yale College. While he received it thankfully, it seems to have
been his chief desire that it might in some way redound to the glory of his
Master.
The years 1798 and 1799 were signalized in Mr. Hallock's experience by
a revival of great power under his ministry ; of which there wei-e between
sixty and seventy hopeful subjects. He was indefatigable in his labours,
not only among his own people, but in other congregations in the neighbour-
hood, to which also the revival extended.
In the summer of 1801, by consent of his church, he accepted an appoint-
ment from the Trustees of the Missionary Society of Connecticut, to labour
a few months as a missionary in Vermont. He left home about the first of
August, and having laboured in various places, sometimes in deep gloom,
and sometimes in joyful hope, and generally with some evidence of success,
he returned to his family and his people in safety, after an absence of about
four months.
In June, 1805, another revival commenced among his people, and con-
tinued several months, — as the fruit of which, neai-ly thirty were added to
the church.
In the summer of 1807, he performed another tour of missionary service
in Vermont, under the direction and patronage of the same Society which
had before employed him. He was absent from home, from the close of
July till about the middle of November.
A third revival took place under his ministry in 1812 and 1813, from
which twenty-eight were gathered into the church.
In the autumn of 1813, an epidemic, known as the spotted typhus fever,
prevailed in the region in which Mr. Hallock resided, as well as in other
parts of Connecticut, and swept off" large numbers. Mr. H. shared deeply
in the afilictive visitation. His only daughter, a lovely girl of fourteen,
died of the disease ; whilst his wife, one of his sons, and himself, suffered
from it severely. In consequence of this illness, he was detained from
public worship thirteen Sabbaths, and was confined most of the time to his
232 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL
room. Beside these Sabbaths and a very few more immediately preceding
his death, Mr. llallock was prevented from preaching only one Sabbath,
fraiii the commencement to the close of his ministry.
in 181G, he was permitted to witness yet another revival among his pco-
jilo, of which there wore reckoned some eighty or ninety subjects. In coin-
]>ariug its results with those of the revival of 1799, he says — " they excccil
those of that glorious day." Another, and the last revival under his minis-
try, occurred in 1821. Though he was by no means in vigorous health,
and was beginning to feel the infirmities of age, he laboured most assidu-
ously during this season ; and even went abroad a considerable distance to
aid his brethren in carrying forward revivals in other places.
In the spring of 1825, Mrs. Hallock was attacked with a malady, which
threatened ilie speedy termination of her life. Iler husband felt this to bo
rv most severe affliction ; and not improbably it had something to do in
hastening his own departure. He preached, for the last time, on the 21st
(if May, 182G, and administered the Lord's Supper. On the 20th of June,
it became apparent that his course Avas nearly finished; and, though he had
only the partial exercise of his reason, it was manifest to all that his treas-
ure and his heart were in Heaven. His wife, — herself sinking under dis-
ease and infirmity, came and stood at his bedside, and received his parting
l)lessing, with the assurance that his hope in the Saviour did not fail him.
Having spoken words of comfort and counsel to those who were present,
and left some last Jiiessages for absent friends, he passed first into a deli-
rium, and thence into a comatose state, whi'ch proved the immediate har-
i)inger of death. He expired on the morning of the 23rd of June, 182G,
aged sixty-eight years. His funeral was attended the next day, and a ser-
mon preached on the occasion, by the Rev. Cyrus Yale of New Hartford,
from Genesis v. 24. Mrs. Hallock attended the funeral; but it was her
last vi-it to the house of God. She continued gradually to decline until
the early part of November, when her earthly pilgrimage came to a close.
Mr. Hallock's only publication was a Sermon preached in 1815, at the
dedication of the church in Canton.
Mr. Hallock had four children, — three sons and one daughter. His son,
Jeremiah Hum'phrey , was graduated at Williams College in 1810, was
several years a lawyer in Ohio, and afterwards a Judge, and then Presiding
Judge of the Courts in that State. He died in 1847, aged fifty-six.
FROM THE REV. CYRUS YALE.
New Haktford, December 5, 1853.
My dear Sir : In compliance with your request, I send you a brief notice of the
late Rev. Jeremiah Hallock. During the last twelve years of his life, and the first
twelve of my ministry, his flock and mine were spread over contiguous hills and
valleys. We belonged to the same Montldy Meeting of ministers for mutufil
improvement, and to the same Association and Consociation. We frequently met
.-.t each others' dwellings, at the little meeting for prayer and exhortation, and iD
the larger meeting for public worship. Sometimes we made religious visit.s
totrether in our own and othci parishes. More than once it was my privilege to
lodge with him, and hear him pour out his whole soul by our bedside, before seek-
ing rest from the toils of the day and evening. Ilis life used to remind me, not
so much of the course of Paul, as of the sublimer, holier movement of the great
Master of .Vpostles and Christian ministers. The spirit of Christ .shone in his
JEREMIAH HALLOCK. 233
looks, and language, nnd whole manner, as he went about doing good, and making
his deep mark for God and the Gospel. . I love to think of him as a model
Christian, and a model pastor, with one steady, strong purpose, to gather and
brighten as manj^ gems as possible for his Saviour's crown. He was emphatically
the good shepherd, who knew his flock, old and young, and would call them all
by name, and with a sort of holy charm lead them in green pastures, beside the
still waters.
Mr. ilallock was above the middle stature and of good proportion. His face
was rather long and spare; his features prominent, and his skin dark; his eyes a
bluish gray, and deep set under thick, black brows. A chastened smile commonly
softened the fixed and deep solemnity of his countenance; a most unearthly look
of devout contemplation, kindness, humility, and grave cheerfulness saved him
from repulsive austerity. He walked with his head a little inclined forward, and
his eyes toward the earth. All his motions, whether of the body and limbs, the
head, the eyes, or the organs of speech, were slow and with unconscious dignity.
His utterance was naturally mild, and somewhat monotonous, often energetic,
always distinct, and inimitably grave and sincere. His presence was suited, in no
small degree, to impress with a sort of religious awe, as well the young and gay
as the more sober class in society. He was a good specimen of clerical politeness.
His very peculiar look and manner went ftirther than in almost any case, to give
emphasis to words, and interest to actions. It might be said of him as of Fene-
lon, " A noble singularity pervaded his whole person, and a certain indefinable and
sublime simplicity gave to his appearance tlic air of a prophet."
Let me give here a fact to show the views of a stranger. ]\Iany years since, a
delegate from the Presbyterian Church to the General Association of Connecticut,
on his return to the South, called on a friend, who had formerly lived in the
vicinity of Canton. After some remarks complimentary to the Connecticut
clergy, he said there was one man in the body who interested him very much, but
he had forgotten his name. lie then described the person, tone, and manner of
Mr. Hallock. "Oh! that's the Apostle John," said the once Northerner, with
a smile. " True, true," replied the other, and then was happy to learn his name
and his rare worth.
Mr. Hallock's manner in the pulpit was all his own, alike above art or descrij>-
tion. No one could suspect him of preaching himself, and not " Jesus Christ and
Him crucified." With little action and no effort at animation, every word seemed
to come warm from the heart; while the deeply solemn countenance, the tenderness
of tone, the slow and distinct utterance, were in good keeping with his message.
Like his Divine Master, he made much use of surrounding circumstances and
passing events — sometimes rising to a bold and vivid imagery. In the absence
of the mere graces of oratory, there was often a certain undefinable charm which
riveted all eyes and ears, — a power that reached and moved the soul. Perhaps it
was a combination of sterling thought, simple language, depth of feeling, and
tones of nature, in presenting "the glorious Gospel of the blessed God." The
late Hon. Isaac C. Bates of Northampton is .said to have remarked, on hearing
Mr. Ilallock preach, that it was the best specimen of sacred eloquence he had ever
witnessed. In the popular sense, however, he was neither an eloquent nor "a
.Kinart preacher." Nor was the very chief Apostle such an one.
In prayer, the man of God was clearly in his clement, — humble, appropriate,
comprehensive, fervent, solemn. It seemed like the address of an affectionate
child to a kind and beloved, yet revered, fiithcr. Heaven and earth were brought
near together. " I love to hear Mr. Hallock pray," said one of my people, now
in the grave, "because he always sjjcaks to God, as if he was acquainted with
Him." Ilis widow said to me, soon after his death, in answer to a question — " I
never knew his set hours for secret prayer, but he seemed to be praying nearly
all the time — on passing through his study, I often found him on IiLs knees."
Vol. IL 30
234 Tia^'lTAUlAN CONG KEG ATIONAL.
He was commonly spoken of as " the good Mr. Utillock." Some of his most
intimate acquaintance woulJ add the word "great." All saw his moral powers
to outshine his intellectual, llis intellect, however, though at once aided and
surpassed by something of higher excellence, was of no inferior order. His asso-
ciations of thought were strikingly original. lie had a graphic power that could
entrance the old and young. If his imagery was not the most grand or pictur-
esque, it was always well defined and vivid — tlie genuine, bright coin from his
own fruitful mint. The most prominent of his mental faculties was a sterling
judgment. All his intellectual powers seemed to owe not a little of their strength
and their ease of operation to the sublimity of his moral and religious feelings.
Probably it were not wide of the truth to say, he was a great, because a good,
man.
In the various relations of private life, he was what we might expect in a man
of such high and holy aim and such excellence of character. He never seemed
to forget that he was an ambassador of Jesus Christ. His general deportment iu
society, while it commanded a respect bordering on veneration, secured a high
degree of confidence and love. Ilis life, like a gentle, uniform stream, — emblem
of his unruffled soul, passed on with few remarkable changes, till at length he
found himself fast sinking under the pressure of age and infirmities. He now
cast his eye forward two or three years to the age of seventy, as the end of his
active ministry, if his Almighty Helper should sustain him till that time. But his
good Master, as if by special favour for uncommon diligence, took him from liis
work to his reward, a little before the close of the natural day of human life.
Yours truly,
* j^ CYRUS YALE.
MOSES COOK WELCH, D. D *
1784—1824.
Moses Cook Welch was the son of the Rev. Daniel and Martha
(Cook) Welch, and was born at Mansfield, Conn., February 22, 1754. His
father was a native of Windham ; was graduated at Yale College in 1749 ;
was ordained pastor of the church in North Mansfield, June 29, 1752, and
died April 29, 1782, aged fifty-six years. He was fitted for College partly,
it is believed, by his father, and partly by the Rev. Dr. Salter, minister of
the South parish in Mansfield. He graduated at Yale College in 1772.
As he was only eighteen at the time of his graduation, and the prospects
of the country were at best extremely dubious, ho remained, for several
years, unsettled in regard to his ultimate profession. He engaged, for a
while, as teacher of a Grammar School in Windham ; and, as his predilec-
tions were then for the legal profession, he, after a while, relinquished his
school, and entered his name in the office of the Hon. Eliphalet Dyer, an
eminent lawyer, — afterwards a prominent actor in the Revolution and Chief
Justice of the State. Here he prosecuted his studies with a constantly
increasing interest for about a year ; and had he been left to follow his own
inclination, he would undoubtedly have completed his course of study, and
beeja admitted to the Bar. His father, however, was greatly averse to hia
• MSS. from Dr. Welch's sons, and from the Hon. Judge Judson.
MOSES COOK WELCH. 235
entering the profession of Law; and, in deference to his feelings, the half
formed purpose of becoming a lawyer was abandoned. He afterwards
returned temporaril}'^ to the business of teaching; and, at a still later period,
gave some attention to medicine; but this did not accord with his taste, and
he soon relinquished it. Subsequently to this, he returned to his father's at
Mansfield, and was, for some time, engaged, partly in labouring on a farm,
and partly in teaching young men, with reference either to their becoming
instructors, or to their entering College. As the Revolutionary struggle had
now commenced, and the patriotic spirit was fully awake in his bosom, he
was desirous of aiding, in some way, the cause of his country ; and, accord-
ingly, he embarked in company with his intimate friend, Mr. Samuel Nott, —
then a young man fitting for College, now (1851,) the Rev. Dr. Nott of
Franklin, — in the making of saltpetre, to be worked into powder for the
supply of the army. In this enterprise he was very successful. He was
also drafted, for a time, for the army, and he cheerfully obeyed the call ; but
he soon contracted the prevailing disease of the camp, and was obliged to
return home. During this period, in which his mind was unsettled in regard
to a profession, he often regretted that he could not, in consistency with the
wishes of his parents, prosecute the profession of his choice ; but their wishes
he recognised as a law, and cheerfully sacrificed to them his own predi-
lections.
Hitherto he had made no profession of religion, nor given any evidence of
having felt its power ; but his mind now became deeply impressed by the
truths of the Gospel, and his heart, as he believed, felt their quickening
influence. Immediately his attention was directed to the Christian minis-
try,— a consummation which his parents had long and most devoutly desired.
His theological studies were prosecuted under the direction, partly of the
Rev. Dr. Salter, who had assisted him in his preparation for College, and
partly of the Rev. Stephen White,* then minister of Windham.
After the death of his father, the vacant congregation were unanimously
desirous that he (the son) should succeed to the pastoral charge; — a strong
expression of their confidence and regard, considering especially that he
was among them as a prophet in his own country. He accepted their invi-
tation, and was set apart to the pastoral office, June 2, 1784, — the sermon
on the occasion being preached by the Rev. Mr. White. He used to relate
the following incident connected with his ordination, as having made an
enduring impression upon his mind, in respect to his ministerial responsi-
bilities. A slave, by the name of Peter, a very pious old man, who
boloiiged to some members of his family residing in Windham, had come to
witness his ordination. Just as the council were about to proceed to the
church, Peter very modestly intimated to the pastor elect, that he would
like to see him for a few moments in private. Mr. Welch accordingly
walked out with him, and the poor negro addressed him thus: — "My young
master, you ai-e going to be set apart to a great and solemn work : now /
charge yon, see to it that you receive the Holy Ghost." It was a charge
which his master never forgot.
•Stephen White was born in Middletowr, Conn., in 1718. AVhen he was two years old, his
parents rciuovod to New Haven. He was graduated at Yale College in 1 73f> ; was ordained pastor
of the church in Windham, as successor to President Clap, on the 24th of December 1740; and
died January 9, 1793. lie was married to a sister of the Hon. T\liphalet Dyer, by whom he had
thirteen children. The Kev. (afterwards Dr.) Mosrs C. Welch, in the Sermon preached at Mr.
White's funeral, says that in him " were agreeably and happily united the good scholar, the
real Christian, and the able, judicious Divine."
236 TRINITAKIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
In 1812, he preached the Sermon before the General Assembly of Con-
necticut, on the Anniversary Election. The same year he was detailed on
a tour of duty as Chaplain in the service of his country, and he promptly
and faithfully nict the requisition.
Ue was appointed a incniber of the Corporation of Yale College in
1822, but held the office only two years. He received the degree of Doctor
of Divinity from Dartmouth College in 1824.
Dr. Welch, in early life, had exceedingly delicate health ; insomuch that
fears were entertained that he would bo obliged to relinquish his profession.
Not far from the close of the last century, he went on a mission to what
was then the extreme Western part of the State of New York ; and, while
engaged in this service, took the fever and ague, in consequence of which,
he was obliged to return home and discontinue his public labours for seve-
ral months. This attack, however, proved of essential service to him, as
it wrought a thorough change in his physical system, so that, during the
residue of his life, he enjoyed firm and almost uninterrupted health. Ho
continued to labour with his accustomed activity uutil very near the close
of his life. For some time previous to his last illness, he seemed deeply
impressed with the idea that his ministry and his life were soon to termi-
nate ; and that while his health was yet entirely unimpaired. About two
weeks before his illness commenced, he preached, by exchange, to a neigh-
bouring congregation, to which he was much attached, and for which ho had
performed a large amount of ministerial labour. In his afternoon sermon
he referred with great tenderness and solemnity to his frequent occasional
labours among them, spoke of the solemn meeting which preacher and
hearers must have at the judgment, and, in the close of his discourse,
remarked that he should never meet them again, until he met them on that
augu.st occasion, and then bade them an affectionate farewell. A fortnight
after, he was attacked with ague and other symptoms of severe disease, on
the Sabbath, immediately after leaving the meeting-house, at the close of
the morning service. It seemed the dictate of prudence that he should not
attempt to preach in the afternooij ; but from this nothing could dissuade
him, and he went to the church with a full conviction that he was then to
perform his last earthly service. At the commencement of his discourse,
he remarked that he felt unwell, and should probably make the exercise
very Ijrief ; but he preached longer than usual, and with an unwonted degree
of animation and pathos ; and though he did not say explicitly that he
never expected to address them again, he left the impression on their minds
that he never would, and gave them what were very suitable to be, as they
actually proved, his parting counsels. The disease which had seized him,
coutiuuxl seventeen days, and then reached a fatal termination. He died
April 21, 1824, in the fortieth year of his ministry, and the seventy-first
year of liis age. His funeral sermon was preached by the Rev. Dr. Nott
of Franklin, from Hebrews ix. 27.
Notwithstanding Dr. Welch's last days were marked by severe suffering,
he manifested great composure of spirit, and a perfect willingness to leave
the world. He expressed a strong sense of the importance of the doctrines
which he had preached, and declared that there was not one of them in
relation to the truth of which he had any doubt, as he lay upon his death
bed.
MOSES COOK WELCH. 237
Dr. Welch was first married to Chloe, daughter of Randal Evans of
Plymouth. She died September 11, 1789, leaving two sons and one daugh-
ter. His second wife was Clarissa, daughter of the Rev. Jonathan Ashley
of Deerfiold, Mass. She died Juno 2, 1806, leaving two sons, both of
v;hom were graduated at Yalo College : one, Jonathan A. became a lawyer,
aud settled in Brookline, Conn.; the other, Archibald, settled as a physi-
cian ultimately in Hartford, and was one of the victims of the frightful cas-
uality that occurred at Norwalk, Conn., from a train of cars being precipi-
tated into the water. His third wife was a daughter of the Rev. Noadiah
Russcll,* of Thompson, Conn. She died March G, 1815. His fourth and
last wife was Mrs. Mary Leech of Lebanon, who survived him, and died
in 1829.
The following is a list of Dr. Welch's publications : — A Sermon on the
death of tho Rov. Stephen White, 1794. A Reply to the Correspondent :
containing an Attempt to point out certain inconsistencies and misrepresen-
tations in tliat publication ; together with some strictures upon the Appen-
dix, in a familiar Letter to a friend, 1794. A Eulogy on Deacon Benjamin
Chaplin, 1795. The Addresser addressed; or a Letter to the Correspond-
ent ; containing some free remarks on his address to the Rev. Moses C.
Welch. Humbly dedicated to the Hon. Zephaniah Swift, Esq., 1796. A
Sermon at the funeral of Mrs. Pond, 1800. A Sermon at Staiford at the
interment of Augustus Miller, 1801. A Sermon at the execution of Sam-
uel Preeuian, 1805. A Sermon at Thompson, before the Original Associa-
tion of the County of Windham, 1806. A Sermon at the ordination of
William Andrews,! 1808. A Sermon at the funeral of Miss Mary Juliana
Salter, 1810. A Sermon at the funeral of Mr. John Work Judson, 1811.
A Sermon at the funeral of the Rev. John Gurley, 1812.
FROM THE REV. SAMUEL NOTT, D. D.
Franklin, January, 4, 1851.
Dear Sir: You ask me for my recollections of my friend, Dr. Welch. When
you remember that I am ninety-seven years old, and of a broken memory, you
will not expect me to be ver}' particular. Indeed I should hardly attempt to com-
ply with your request at all, were it not that I am able to refer to something that
1 wrote many years ago, when I had the full use of all my mental faculties. I
gi-ew up in the same neighbourhood with Dr. Welch, and he was my intimate
friend through life. He had something to do in fitting me for College; in after
life, our parishes \veTQ not so remote from each other but that we often met; and
it was mj* sad office to preach his funeral sermon. T am, therefore, willing to pay
a tribute to his memory in the best manner I can, though, in doing so, I must not
• Noadiah Russell was a native of Middletown, Conn. ; his grandfather Noadiah, and his
father IVilliam. having heen succcssivclj- pastors of the church in that place. His father wa«
graduated at Yale College in 1709; was a Tutor there in 1713-14, and a Fellow from 1745 till
hi-s death; succeeded his father as pastor of the church in Middletown, .Tune 1, 1715; and died
June 1, 17(51, just forty-six years to a day from the time of his ordination, heing seventy years
of age. Dr. Trumbull says, — " He was a gentleman of great respectability for knowledge,
experience, moderation, and for pacific measures on all occasions."" Noadiah Russell, the
second, was born at Middletown, January 24, 172'.)-30; was graduated at Yale College in 1750:
wa.s ordained pastor of the church in Tliompson, Conn., November 9, 1757, and died on the 27th
of October, 1795; having disdfcarged his oflicial duties with few interruptions till about a year
before his death.
t William Andrews was born in Ellington, Conn., in 1782; was graduated at Middlebury
College in 1806; was settled pastor of the church in Windham, Conn., from 1808 to 1813; of
the church in Danbury, Conn., from 1813 to 1827 : and of the church in Cornwall, Conn., from
1827 till his death, January 1, 1838. He was a man of highly respectable talentfl, an intererrt-
ing preacher, and eminently devoted to his work.
I
238 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
only avail myself of what I have previously written, but of the more faithful
recollections of some of my friends.
Dr. AYelch was a man of a vigorous mind, an ardent temperament, and great
fixedness of purpose. His perceptions were botli quick and clear. He generally
saw at a glance the material bearings of a subject, and reached his conclusion by a
very direct process. His mind was higlil}' excitable, and would easily rise to meet
the demands of an extraordinary occasion. He had a large share of irony in his
constitution, and sometimes used it with tremendous effect. As a preacher, he was
decidedly among the more popular in the State. lu the early part of his ministry,
he wrote out his .sermons at full length and with great care; but he afterwards
preached chiefly from short notes; and so well furnished was his mind that he
could preach very well, if occasion required, without premeditation. His delivery
was simple and natural, but was remarkable chiefly for fervour and unction. He
threw his whole soul into every thing that he uttered. Indeed he did nothing by
halves. Whatever he undertook, he brought to it the whole energy of his intel-
lectual and moral nature. He was a great ecclesiastical lawyer. His uncommon
readiness and aptness of thought, and great fluency of expression, together with
his familiarity with legal forms, (having devoted some time to the study of the
law,) gave him an advantage before an ecclesiastical tribunal, that few of his con-
temporaries possessed. He was employed on several important occasions of this
kind, and, so fiir as I know, always acquitted himself with honour. In his poli-
tics, he was a Federalist, and he regarded the democracy of the day as very nearly
allied to French Atheism. It is not impossible but that his naturally ardent
temperament, here as well as elsewhere, sometimes betrayed him into acts of
imprudence; but nobody, I believe, could ever question his sincerity. He was an
earnest advocate for the Calvinistic Theology of New England, and not only
preached it with great zeal, but was not slow to give the alarm where he observed
any signs of departure from it. His labours in the ministry seemed to be attended
with an uncommon blessing.
In person, Dr. Welch was above the medium height, but was not at all inclined
to corpulency. He had a dignified and commanding air, but was pleasant and
affable in his private intercourse. He was greatly endeared to his people, as well
by his social qualities as his pastoral fidelity. He had a high reputation in the
State at large, and wherever he was known. He was a month younger than
myself; and, though he died at what is commonly considered an advanced age,
yet having obtained help of God, I continue to this day.
I am truly your friend,
SAMUEL NOTT.
FROM THE REV. ELEAZAR WILLIAMS.*
HoGANSBURGH, N. Y., February 15, 1855.
My dear Sir: In the year 1804, I went to live with the Rev. Mr. Welch of
Mansfield, Avith a view to prosecute my studies under his instruction. I had, for
several years previous to this, resided at Longmeadow, and, for a few months, at
Ellington, with the Rev. Mr. Brockway, whom I remember as a most amiable and
kind-hearted man. Circumstances now led those who had tlie charge of my edu-
cation to send me to Mansfield, where, for three years. I lived in Mr. Welch's family,
and had every opportunity that a person of my age could have, for becoming
acquainted with his character.
The most important relation which he sustained to me was, of course, that of
a teacher. I do not suppose that he had any claim to be considered an eminently
learned man; but he was, at any rate, so familiar with the Latin and Greek
•The writer of this letter is the person who is supposed by many to be the legitimate hf<ir to
the throne of France.
MOSES COOK WELCH. 239
classics, as to teach them to the great advantage of his pupils. lie had an uncom-
mon facility at communicating knowledge, and rarely failed to give an effective
impulse to the minds of those who were placed under his care. He must have
had considerable reputation as a teacher; for I think, during my residence with
him, he had frequently not less than ten or twelve students, mostly residing in his
family. And I ought to say that he regarded the religious interests, not less than
the intellectual improvement, of his pupils. I can recall more than one instance,
in which he took me away to a retired spot and conversed with me in regard to
my spiritual state, not only with great solemnity, but even with tears.
I used to think him quite a model of a preacher. I believe he usually wrote
more or less of his sermon, but left large parts of it to be filled up by tlioughta
which he had previously arranged in his mind, or which occurred to him at tho
moment of delivery. It was difficult to saj' what was written and what was not,
except from the fact that his extemporaneous remarks were generally uttered in a
more earnest and animated tone. My recollection is that his preaching was much
more than commonly impressive. He made the hearer feel that he was dealing in
momentous realities. He had a fine, clear voice, and a fluent and rapid utterance;
but, if my memory serves me, it was not greatly distinguished for variety of
inflection.
lie was very attentive to pastoral duties, and generally had a lecture in some
part of his parish once a week. In two instances, I think, during my residence
with him, there was an unusual attention to religion in his congregation; but it
was the still small voice rather than the rushing mighty wind.
He had a small salary, and was obliged to cultivate a form, as well as receive
pupils, in order to make out an adequate support for his family. The last two days
of the week, however, he sacredly devoted to preparation for the pulpit; and I
doubt not that much of the time which he spent in secular engagements, was also
made subservient to the same end.
Mr. Welch took a deep interest in the political questions of his day. I do not
mean that he could be called, in any offensive sense of the word, a politician; but
every body knew that he sympathized strongly with the Federal school, and he
occasionally preached a sermon which found little favour with those of the oppo-
site party. I am inclined to the opinion that whatever of coolness towards him
ever existed in his congregation, at least at the period of my residence with him,
was to be attributed more to this cause than any other.
In his family, he was affectionate, dignified, and every way exemplary. In
connection with his family praj^ers, which were alwaj's appropriate and fervent, he
used frequently to comment upon the portion of Scripture which he had read, in
a striking and impressive manner. He had a vein of keen Avit, which often came
out to our great amusement; but sometimes it was in the form of the most scath-
ing sarcasm. He was also constitutionally a man of strong passions; and if they
had not been bridled by religious principle, they might sometimes have been ter-
ribly effective; but I do not remember ever to have seen him unduly excited,
except in one or two instances, and then in consequence of the conduct of some of
the roguish boys, whom he had in charge. The three j-ears that I passed with
him, I look back upon with great satisfaction, as having contributed much to my
improvement and happiness.
Yours affectionately,
ELEAZAR A7ILLIAMS.
240 TRINITAlilAN COxNGREGATIONAL.
ABIEL HOLMES, D. D *
1784—1837.
Abiel Holmes was a native of Woodstock, — a town formerly belonging
to Massachusetts, but now lying within the bounds of Connecticut. lie
was a .sou of David and Temperance Holmes, and was born December 24,
1763. His father, who was a practising physician, served as a Captain
during the war in Canada, for three campaigns; and subsequently as .i
Surgeon, during the first half of the war of the Revolution, and until within
a short period of his death. The son, at the time of liis father's death, had
reached his sixteenth year, and was nearly prepared to enter College.
In the absence of any distinct data on tlie subject, it is inferred, from
various circumstances, that his early youth was marked by great diligence
in study and a serious regard for religion. He entered Yale College in
1779, and graduated in 1783. Though ho must have been subjected to
much embarrassment, during his collegiate course, from the stormy scenes of
the iicvolation, of which New Haven was, in no slight degree, the theatre,
he sedulously improved such opportunities as he enjoyed, and was reckoned,
at the time of his graduation, among the most accomplished scholars of his
class. In March, 1781, he was admitted a member of tho College church.
In May, 1784, Mr. Holmes being in South Carolina, — tho church and
society at Midway, Ga.,t became acquainted with his intention of entering
on the work of the ministry, and made application to him to come and preach
for them one year. He consented to their proposal, and in August follow-
ing commenced his ministerial labours among them. In June, 1785, being
about to return to New England, he was solicited by a communication
signed by all the members of the church and society to receive ordination,
• Mass. Hist. Coll. VII. .3d series. — MS. from his family. — Memoranda left by Dr. Morse.
t About the year 1700, a Congregational church and society removed from Dorchester, Mass.,
to South Carolina, and settled at a i)lai;e about twenty miles Northwest from Charleston, to which
they gave the name — Dorchester. Their first pastor wns the Rev. Joseph Lord, who removed
with them from New England. Ilis successor was the llcv. Hugh Fisher; and his successor
was the Rev. John Osgooii, who was born in the same society, was graduated at Harvard Col-
lege in 173.'5; and became the pastor of the church at Dorchester and Leech Hill on tho 24th of
March, 1735. Beech Hill was a part of the same settlement, and the pastor officiated in each
place alternately.
This situation being unlicalthy, and the lands withal being insufficient for the inhabitantiJ,
they projected a settlement in (Georgia; and having jirocured from the Legislature of that Pro-
vince the grant of a tract of land of nearly thirty-two thousand acres, about thirty miles South-
west from savannah, they removed thither with their pastor in the year 1754. Mr. Osgood
died in the licginning of August, 1773. Dr. Zubly, in Mr. Osgood s funeral sermon, address-
ing himself to the bereaved flock, says, — "Near forty years, a very uncommon period in our
climate, did lie continue to minister in holy things among you; all this time, you were in liisi
heart to live and to die with you, because he greatly loved you. He was the father and friend,
as well as the shepherd, of his flock. A mutual endearment subsisted all that time; it may
with justice be said, no congregation was hajipicr in a minister, and no minister happier in a
congregation ; for he was gentle among you even as a nurse cherisheth her children, wishing to
have imparted not only the Gospel of God unto you, but also his own soul, because ye were deai
to him."
After Mr. Osgood's death, the church wns supplied by Dr. Zubly and some others, until 177''.
when the llev. Moses Allen from Northampton, Mass., succeeded to the pastoral charge. In
November, 1778, the society was entirely broken up and dispersed by the British army from
Florida, under the command of General Provost: and the meeting house and almost every
dwelling in the settlement were burnt. At the reduction of Savannah in December following,
^Tr. Allen was taken prisoner, subjected to great suiTering, and finally, in an eifort to recover
his liberty, lost his life. On the return of peace, the scattered inhabitaiit.s re-collected inMed-
way, and became again established in tlieir former rights and privileges; and it was at this
point in their history that they put in requisition the services of Mr. Holmes.
ABIEL HOLMES. 241
with a view to become their pastor. Accordingly, he was ordained at New
Haven on the 15th of September, 1785. The ordination took place in the
College chapel the day after Commencement, and in connection with the
Concio ad Clerum which was delivered b}' the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Levi Hart
of Preston. He returned to Georgia in November following, and assumed
the pastoral relation. But his health being somewhat impaired, he came
to the North in the summer of 1786 ; and, instead of returning to his charge
in the autumn, as he had intended, he made an arrangement with his friend
Mr. (afterwards the Rev. Dr.) Jedediah Morse, who was then a Tutor in
Yale College, to take his place for a year, while he (Mr. Holmes) was duly
appointed in October following to supply Mr. Morse's place as Tutor. Mr.
Holmes having held the Tutorship for a year, returned to his pastoral
charge in November, 1787. Here he continued in great harmony with his
people until 1791, when his health became so much affected through the
influence of the climate that he felt constrained to resign his charge, and
seek a Northern residence. He, therefore, returned to New England in
the course of that year, and was soon employed to preach as a candidate to
the First church in Cambridge, Mass., and, in due time, was invited to
become their pastor. He accepted the call, and was installed on the 25th
of January, 1792. The installation sermon was preached by the Rev. Dr.
Dana of New Haven.
In 1798, the papers of the late President Stiles having come into his
hands, he compiled the biography of that venerable man, in a small octavo
volume, which does great credit to the writer's taste and judgment, as well
as industry. There is no doubt that the masses of historic lore, which thus
came hereditarily into his possession from Dr. Stiles, had much to do in
maturing his own taste, and giving direction to his permanent literary
pursuits.
In 1805, he published in two volumes, octavo, his " American Annals,'' —
the work through which chiefly his fame is destined to be perpetuated. It
was republished in England in 181.3, and a second and greatly enlarged and
improved American edition was issued in 1829. It is not only regarded as
a standard work in this country, but has attracted the respectful attention
of European critics.
In 1798, he was elected a member of the Massachusetts Historical Society;
and it is scarcely necessary to add that he was ever afterwards most effi-
ciently devoted to its interests. Not only were the "Collections" of the
Society frequently enriched by contributions from his prolific pen, but in
1813 he succeeded the Rev. Dr. Eliot as Corresponding Secretary, and
continued in the office for more than twenty years. He was also one of the
original founders of the Society for promoting Christian knowledge ; — was
its first Secretary, and, at the time of his death, its respected President.
Of the Board of Commissioners of the Society in Scotland for promoting
Christian knowledge, formed in 1787, he was Vice President. He was one
of the originators, and, from the first, a Director, of the American Educa-
tion Society ; a member of the Boards of Trust of Phillips Academy and
of the Theological Seminary at Andover, and of the Bible Society of Massa-
chusetts ; besides being a member of the American Academy of Arts and
Sciences, of the Philosophical Society at Philadelphia, of the American
Antiquarian Society, and of the Board of Overseers of Harvard University.
He received the honorary degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University
Vol. II. 31
242 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
of Edinburgh about 1805, and that of Doctor of Laws from Alleghany
College in 1822.
Little occurred to impair the harmony that existed between Dr. Holmes
and his congregation, till the shadows of the evening of life had begun to
gather around him. Though there had been considerable diversity of
religious views among his people, and between a portion of them and him-
self, yet his general course had been such, particularly in the regulation of
his exchanges, that they had almost universally acquiesced in his ministry.
About 1829, liowever, a dissatisfaction arose, chiefly in consequence of liis
limiting his exchanges to orthodox ministers, which, in May of that year, occa-
sioned his separation from the ecclesiastical society with which he had been
connected. He withdrew with most of the members of the church ; a new
religious society was formed ; a new place of worship in due time erected ;
and the llev. Nehemiah Adams, before the close of the year, was settled as
his colleague in the pastoral office. In consequence of his age and increasing
infirmities, he tendered the resignation of his pastoral charge, which was
accepted, and ratified by an ecclesiastical council, September 26, 1881.
Dr. Holmes continued to preach occasionally until a few months previous
to his death. His last sermon was addressed to the people to whom he had
been accustomed to minister, January 22, 1837. The subject of it was
"the vanity of life a reason for seeking a portion in Heaven." From a
letter written by hrs son, John Holmes, Esq., of Cambridge, I extract the
following account of his last illness and death: —
"My father began to be seriously unwell in March, 1837; but expe-
rienced no great sufiering until about ten days before his death, which took
place on Sunday, June 4. At this period, he suffered a severe paralytic
shock, which rendered him almost entirely helpless, and confined him to his
bed until his death. His articulation, after this time, was exceedingly
imperfect, and almost precluded communication even with his own family.
" The Rev. Mr. Stearns, then and now minister of the Orthodox society
in Cambridgeport, visited him several times, and addressed him on topics
which he found by inquiry and mute assent would be agreeable to him.
He seemed perfectly to understand and appreciate the remarks made by his
friend, and gave a ready and earnest answer in the ailirmative to the ques-
tions put to him regarding the evidence of his faith as heretofore expressed,
and the cheerfulness of his hope founded on that faith. He once made an
effort, with such articulation as was left him, to refer to the 5th verse of
the xvth chapter of the Gospel by John, — " I am the vine," &c., in reply,
or in allusion, I think, to a remark of Mr. Stearns. There was some
deceptive appearance of rallying for a day or two previous to his death ;
but, on Saturday, June 3d, he relapsed into the lethargic state, which had
prevailed from the time of the attack of paralysis, and on Sunday forenoon,
at about half past ten, died peacefully, just as the 'second bell,' whose call
he had so long obeyed, was ringing for meeting.
" During the period of his illness preceding the paralytic affection, I do
not know that my father considered himself seriously ill ; but being much
confined to his room, I recollect that he employed himself in religious read-
ing, and, as I presume, religious meditation. This, Lowever, was no depar-
ture from his usual habit."
On the Sabbath next succeeding his death, an appropriate funeral dis-
course was delivered by the Rev. Dr. Jenks of Boston.
«
ABIEL HOLMES. 943
It is due to truth to state that, notwithstanding the ecclesiastical estrange-
ment of many of Dr. Holmes' earlier supporters, they generally evinced
towards him a respectful regard while living, and were not slow to testify
their aflfectionate remembrance of him after he was dead.
Dr. Holmes was twice married — first in 1790, to Mary, daughter of Pre-
sident Stiles, who died at Cambridge, August 20, 1795; and again in 1801,
to Sarah, daughter of the late Hon. Oliver Wendell, who still survives
(1848) at an advanced age. By the first marriage he had no children ; by
the second, five. Two sons were graduated at Harvard College, one of
whom. Dr. 0. W. Holmes of Boston, is among the most distinguished of
our American poets.
The following is a list of Dr. Holmes' publications : — Proceedings of a
Council at the ordination of Rev. Abiel Holmes, at Midway, Georgia, with
the pastoral address, 1787. A Sermon on the National Thanksgiving, 1795.
Life of President Stiles, 8vo., 1798. A Sermon at the ordination of Jona-
than Whitaker,* 1799. A Sermon on the National Fast, delivered at
Boston and Cambridge, 1799. A Sermon on the death of his Excellency
Increase Sumner, 1799. A Sermon on the death of Washington, 1799. A
Sermon recommending the counsel of Washington, 1800. A Sermon at
the ordination of Otis Lane,t 1800. A Century Sermon. 1801. A Ser-
mon at the ordination of David Kendall, t 1802. A Sermon at the funeral
of the Rev. Dr. Tappau, 1803. Memoir of Stephen Parmenius of Buda,
with his Latin Poem translated ; also Memoir of the Moheagan Indians ;
both published in Vol. IX. of the Mass. Hist. Coll., 1804. A Sermon
before the Massachusetts Missionary Society, 1804. A Sermon on the
death of President Willard, 1804. American Annals, 2 vols. 8vo., 1805.
A Sermon at the ordination of William Bascom,^ 1805. A Sermon at
Plymouth, on the anniversary of the Landing of our forefathers, 1806. A
Discourse before the Society for propagating the Gospel among the Indians
and others in North America, 1808. A Fast Sermon, 1809. A Christmas
Sermon, 1809. A Sermon on the Validity of Presbyterian ordination, at
the Dudleian Lecture in Harvard University, 1810. A Sermon at the ordi-
nation of John Bartlett,|| 1811. A Sermon at the inauguration of the Rev.
E. Porter as Professor of Sacred Rhetoric in the Theological Seminary at
Andover. 1812. A Discourse at Boston before the Society for Foreign Mis-
sions, 1813. An Address before the Washington Benevolent Society at
"• Jonathan Whitaker was born in Salem; was graduated at Harvard College in 1797; was
ordiiiiied pastor of the church in Sharon, Mass., February 27, 1799; was dismissed March 21, 1816;
was installed at New Bedford, October 31, 181G; was subsequently dismissed; and died at
Henrietta, N. Y., Nov. 19, 1835, aged sixty-four. He published a Sermon before the New
Bedford Bible Society, 1818.
t Otis Lane was born at Mansfield, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 1798; wa3
ordained pastor of the church at Sturbridge, Pcecnibcr 10, 1800; was dismissed in February,
1819; was installed at Sterling, Conn., in 1828; and died at Southbridgc, Mass., Maj' 6, 1842.
I David Kendall was born at Athol, Mass.; was graduated at Harvard College in 1794;
was ordained at Hubbardston, Mass., Oct. 20, 1802: was dismissed April 26, 1809, and died in
1S53.
§ William Bascom was born at Orleans, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 1802;
was ordained pastor of the church in Fitchburg, October 10, 1805; was dismissed Hecember 15,
1813; and died in 1845.
II John Baktlett was born at Concord, Ma.ss., May 22, 1784; was graduated at Harvard
College in 1805; remained at Cambridge two years as a student of Divinity; was for about
three years Chaplain of the Boston Almshouse ,'and virtually minister at large in Boston; was
ordained as pastor of the Second church in ]\!arblchcad, :May 22, 1811 ; and died February 3,
1849, in the sixty-fifth year of his age, and the thirty-eighth year of his ministry. Mr. Bart-
lett was a Unitarian. He published a Sermon in 1819 entitled " God not the author of sin,"
and another Sermon preached at Marblehead in 1825.
244 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Cambridge, 1813. A Sermon at tho ordination of T. B. Gannett,* 1814.
Biotrraphioal Memoir of tho Kev. John ljothr(i)>ii in the ]\Iass. Hist. Coll. 1.
'2d series. An Address before tho Amt;riean Anti([uarian .Society, Boston,
1814. Historical sketch of tlie English Translations of the Bible, 1815. A
Discourse on opening tho now Alms House at Cambridge, 1818. A Sermon
before the Convention of Congregational ministers, 1819. Two Discourses
at Cambridge on the completion of the Second Century from the landing
of the forefathers at Plymouth, 1820. A Sermon at the funeral of the
Kcv. Dr. Osgood, 18'22. A Sermon at the ordination of Hosea Hildretli,
1825. Memoir of the French Protestants who settled in Oxford, Mass.,
in 1686. Printed also in vol. II., 8d series, of Mass. Hist. Coll., 1826.
Two Sermons on the twenty-seventh anniversary of his installation, 1829.
Annals of America from the discovery by Columbus in 1492 to the year
1826. — 2d (American) edition. 2 vols, octavo, 1829.
FROM THE REV. PAYSON WILLISTON.
East Hampton, August 7, 18-55.
Dear Sir : You ask for my recollections of my classmate, the late Dr. Holmes
of Cambridge. My acquaintance with him began when he came to College. I
visited him once at his father's house at Woodstock, while we were both under-
graduates, and I well remember to have been much impressed by the excellent
character and noble bearing of his mother. After we graduated, our meetings
were few and far between ; though I never lost my interest in him, and always
followed him with mucb pleasure in his career of honourable usefulness. Our
class had a meeting on the fiftieth anniversary of our graduation, at which we
were both present; but he died .soon after, and that proved to be our last inter-
view.
In College he bore a high reputation as a scholar, — taking rank among the most
distinguished of his class. My impression is that lie excelled especially in the
classics, and in belles lettres studies generally. lie wrote with great precision
aTul excellent taste; and this habit continued with him, in a remarkable degree,
through life. He joined the church, if my memory serves me, in his second or
third year in College; and his deportment was in all respects worthy of his Chris-
tian profession. He always, as you are aware, held to the orthodox faith; though
I believe his friends generally thought that the tone of his preaching was some-
what modified by the peculiar circumstances in which he was placed, and espeei-
.ally by his having for a part of his audience the students and Faculty of Harvard
</ollege. Indeed it would have been strange if this result had not been, in a
greater or less degree, realized.
Dr. Holmes was possessed of a calm and quiet, rather tlian an impulsive spirit.
He was cautious, — some might say, — even to a fault; though there were some
cases in which he acted with great decision. I should not think that he was pos-
.lessed of reniarka])ly strong afl'ections; but he had rather an uncommon power
(if .self-control. Ho was urbane and courteous, — never in the least degree forward
• Thomas Brattle (Jannktt wa? a si")!) of the Rev. Caleb Oannett, who was born at Bridge-
water, Mass.; was graduatnl at Harvard College in 176.3; wa," ordained pactor of a church in
("umberland, Nova Scotia, '•etdber 12, IVfiT; was dismissed in the autumn of 1771 ; was Tutor
;it Cambridge from 177.3 to 1780; and then .'Steward of the College till his death, which occur-
red April 26, 1818, at the age of seventy-three. He married a daughter of President Ptiles.
The son. Thnmas Brattle, was bom at Cambridge, February 20, 1789; was graduated at Har-
vard College in 1809; pursued his theological studies nt Cnnihridge ; was ordained pastor of the
church in Cambridgeport, January 19, 1814; was dismissed May 1. 18,3.3; removed to South
Natick, Mass., to take charge of the Eliot Congregational church in that place, (on the very
spot where the Apostle Eliot preached to the Indians,) in 1843; resigned his ministry there in
1850; preached occaaionally till prevented by ill health; and died at South Natick, from dis-
ease of the heart, April 19, 18.^1.
ABIEL HOLMES. 245
or a,3suming. I cherish his memory with sincere affection, and can truly say of
him, — " Very pleasant hast thou been to mc, my brother."
Affectionately jours,
P. AVILLISTON.
FROM THE REV. WILLIAM JENKS, D. D.
Boston, May 5, 1848.
Reverend and dear Sir: So long time has elapsed since I received your letter
that I fear you have despaired of obtaining any answer. But my excuse is, not
simply a succession of engagements which I might plead, but more peculiarly an
embarrassment I have felt in performing the service you have devolved upon me.
When I think of weighing and characterizing an individual much my superior in
age, acquisitions, standing, and influence in society, I shrink involuntarily from
the task; and I cannot, therefore, but look on the positiveness and boldness
of several of our writers who are most in vogue, with distrust and incredulity.
Now, in regard to my Reverend friend, the late Dr. Holmes, no estimate of his
character grounded on the orthodoxy of his belief alone, would do him justice.
Nor, on the other hand, could any view of him as an historian or man of letters,
laborious, accurate, and, in many respects, accomplished, do him justice, with-
out the addition of the other characteristic Whereas, notwithstanding the truth
of both these views, he was not, as a theologiaji, like Dwight, or Emmons, or
Edwards, at the head of a class, influencing by his opinions a crowd of followers;
nor as an historian, so devoted to research, as not, in several respects, to sink the
devoted scholar in the engrossing occupations and sacred character of the evan-
gelical Divine.
His preaching, likewise, could hardly be said to be of the powerful, impressive
character which marks the man of 'revival' reputation, while yet it was, by no
means, devoid of that unction which is derived from the inculcation of a heartfelt,
effective pietj-, and a reverential regard for the Sacred Scriptures, leading to an
appreciation of their historical and poetical beauties, as he delighted to dwell on
and illustrate thcni. Yet, at the same time, there was ever discernible a serious
caution, that what was uttered should be free from all tendency to fanaticism,
and never comjironiit the dignity of I'cligion.
From this description you cannot but recognise at once, I think, the preacher
to a congregation composed principallj' of literarj^ men, such as was that of Dr.
Holmes at Cambridge. Still I do not mean to insinuate that he Avithheld any
important truth, much less that he accommodated himself to the prejudices of his
hearers. On the contrary, in one instance at least, he was engaged in a theologi-
cal controversy with a Professor of the University, Avhose critical acumen and
unquestionable learning have gained him no inconsiderable reputation. Yet he
did not seek controversy, although he shunned it not, but loved the peace that
might be consistent with truth. For I well remember his quoting in a very
marked manner the passage in Zech. viii. 19, when conversing with me.
Without question, the lives and communications of men are affected by the
jirovidential circumstances in which they are placed. Hence a true estimate of
the character and influence of a minister of the Gospel cannot be made, without
taking these into view. Dr. Holmes was eminently of the conservative class, not
of the revolutionary. He loved religion cordially ; but the religion beloved was
not denunciation, censorio\is or canting: it was rational, obedient, reverential,
and resigned to God, ' full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality and with-
out hypocrisy.'
It could not, therefore, but be, that one of his character must find some breth-
ren in the ministrj- in advance of him, and others in the rear. And Dr. Holmes
was never prone to extremes. His predilections, as he once expressly told me,
were 'eclectic' Hence the Ilopkinsian portion of our Divines could not claim
24G TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
him, nor could the Anuinian class. He bflioved in the necessity of a radical
change of the allections to constitute the reli<iious character, and that this change
was wrought by the Holy Spirit; and the JJivinity of the Saviour he expressly
maintained.
Educated, however, — a favourite ])Upil, 1 am inclined to believe, (as he was
afterwards son-in-law,) of President Stiles, his literary tastes seem early to have
led him to historical research. This occuiiation of the mind, as any observer
may know, is liable to become engrossing. And when it po.sscsses the attention,
and is exercised in publications, or other modes of communicating its well-
laboured results, it witlulraws the intellect insensibly from metajjliysical inquiry
or discussion, restrains it from rhetorical and exaggerated statements, (and hence
is almost fatal to pojiular oratory.) and fixes it on facts and practical life. I have
thence supposeil that my respected friend, from his occupation in historical pur-
suits,— an occupation which has established a reputation for himself, as well aa
done honor to the literature of our country, was less inclined than some I have
known, to dwell very prominently on peculiar theological doctrines; and certainly
he was no violent declaimer. Nevertheless his belief of the doctrines, which we
familiarly term evangelical, was firm, and his attachment to them consistent and
l)ractical, even if he were not found the most forward in an aggressive warfare for
their support and propagation. I cannot doubt that he adopted sincerely the
pious exclamation of his venerated father-in-law, Dr. Stiles, with which he had
long been familiar: 'Sit anima mea cum Puritannis.'
I shall close this communication with a brief extract from the funeral sermon
which it was my lot to deliver at Cambridge the Sa])bath after Dr. Holmes' inter-
ment. In these remarks I may be permitted to repeat, ' my judgment still wholly
acquiesces.'
"The important character of pastor, leader, and guide. Dr. Holmes sustained
with high respectability, much consistency, uniformity, and meekness. He was
a ruler in the church of Christ, ' not as lording it over God's heritage,' with arbi-
trary power, but governiijg by persuasive influence and evangelical gentleness,
combined with the constraining dignity of a firm adherence to principle. Few
pastors or men have, in my judgment, combined these two characters more suc-
'cessfully together. Studiously polite to all with whom he conversed, and scru-
pulously attentive to everj'' demand of propriety, both in private and public life,
he could u.se consistently what no bigot or zealot can, the memorable language of
the Apostle, — ' AVe Avere gentle among 3^ou as a nurse cherisheth her cliildren;-
and with equal justice could say in regard to any supposable demand, interfering
with his sense of sacred duty, from any quarter, ' To whom we gave place by
subjection, no not for an hour, that the Gospel might continue with you.'
" This blending of moderation and modesty with firmness and decision of cha
racter, where decision and firmness are needed, constitute, if I mistake not, an
enviable, or rather a desirable, distinction. Especially in these days of denuncia-
tion, estrangement, and obloquy, of superficial attainments and loud professions,
of headlong rashness in enterprise, and boldness and confidence in as.sertion, we
can hardly praise too highly the peaceful, laborious, faithful, and humble fol-
lower and minister of Jesus Christ, who is learned without vanity or dogmati.sm,
pious without cant or fitfulness, and charitable without ostentation. And such,
if I mistake not, was our beloved and lamented friend. Never in extremes or
chargeable with extravagance, his deportment and character united, in no com-
mon degree, the gentleman, the .scholar, and the Christian."
Yours, very respectfully and alVectionately,
WILLIAM JENKS.
JEDEDIAH MORSE. 247
JEDEDIAH MORSE, D. D *
1785—1826.
Jedediah Morse was born at Woodstock, Conn., August 23, 1761.
He was descended, in the sixth generation, from Anthony Morse, who emi-
grated from Marlborough, Wiltshire, England, in 1635, and was one of the
first settlors of Newbury, Mass. He was a son of Jedediah and Sarah
(Child) Morse, who lived together fifty-eight years in the marriage relation,
the former having died at the age of ninety-five, the latter at the age of
eighty-one. The father was a man of no small consideration in his day ; being
distinguished for his cxcellont sense and judgment, his amiable disposition,
aud earnest and consistent piety. He was a deacon in the church, and for
thirty successive sessions, represented the town in the State Legislature.
His mother was a model at once of the domestic virtues and the Christian
graces.
The subject of this notice spent his early years at home, labouring more
or less on his father's farm ; but, as his constitution was delicate and little
fitted for active labour, and as he early evinced a decided intellectual taste,
his father determined to give him the advantages of a collegiate education.
At the age of seventeen, he commenced his preparation for College at the
Academy at South Woodstock, and completed it in less than a year. He
entered Yale College in 1779, and was graduated with high honour in 1783.
He made a public profession of religion and joined the College church in
February, 1781.
In September succeeding his graduation, he engaged in teaching a school
of young ladies at New Haven, and about the same time commenced the
study of Theology under Doctors Edwards and Wales. His school was of a
superior order, and was sustained almost exclusively by the first families in
New Haven, as well as many from abroad. His connection with it continued
until the summer of 1785, when he was licensed to preach by the New
Haven Association. Shortly after this, he went to reside at Norwich in the
double capacity of teacher and preacher ; though his school here seems to
have consisted of a very limited number of young ladies. Within a short
period, while residing at Norwich, he was invited to preach with reference to
a settlement at Deerfield, Mass., and at Farmington, New Haven, and
Greenwich, Conn.; but he seems not to have listened to any of the invitations.
In the spring of 1786, he left Norwich, having accepted a Tutorship in
Yale College. He entered upon the duties of his office in June, and con-
tinued till October, when, in accordance with an arrangement made between
himself and Mr. (afterwards the Kev. Dr.) Abiel Holmes, who had then
just returned from Midway, Ga., where he had been preaching for some
time, — Mr. Morse resigned his place as Tutor, with the intention of taking
Mr. Holjiics' place at the South, while Mr. H. succeeded him in the Tutor-
ship. Accordingly, he was ordained on the 9th of November, and the next
day set out for the place of his dcstinatii)n in (K^orgia, where, after a jour-
ney of great interest, he arrived on the I'Jth of January, 1787. On his way
he visited many of the most distinguished individuals in the country, and
*MSS. from his bods.
248 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
among them General Wadhington, who received him with great kindness, and
manifostcd much interest in his geographical plun.s which afterwards morH
fully developed themselves.
He remained at Midway about six months, during which time overtures
in respect to a settlement were made to him from James Island, Sunbury,
and Savannah ; but he did not accede to any of them. In June he set his face
towards the North; and, after stopping for a number of weeks in Cliarles-
tOD, S. C, during which he supplied one of the churches on the Sabbath,
he prosecuted leisurely liis homeward journey and arrived at New Haven
the l!8th of August, llHl.
He remained at New Haven during the winter of 1787-88, devoting much
of his time to geographical pursuits, and preaching on the Sabbath either
to vacant parishes in tlie neighliourliood, or by way of assisting his brethren.
Early in March, he received an invitation through Dr. Ilodgcrs of New
York, from the Collegiate Churchos of whicli he was a pastor, to preach l<i
them as a candidate for settlement in place of the llev. James Wilson, who
had shortly before resigned his charge. He accepted this invitation, and
remained in New York until September following. The congregations were
divided in their preferences between him and Mr. (afterwards Dr.) James
Muir, who subsequently settled in Alexandria ; and the result was that they
both withdrew, by means of which the agitation was stopped, and the two
parties were ultimately brought into a good degree of harmony.
In May, 1787, Mr. Morse i-eceived repeated solicitations to preach, as a
candidate for settlement, to the church in Charlcstuwn, Mass.; and, though
he did not at once consent to the jiroposal, yet, after his engagement in New
York terininateil, he made a visit there and preached several Sabbaths, the
result of which was that he received a unanimous call to become the jtastor
of the church. He accepted the call, and was installed on the 30th of
April, 1789 — the same day and hour that "Washington was inaugurated as
President of the United States. The installation sermon was preached by
the llev. Dr. Belknap of Boston.
On the 1-lth of May following, he was married in Shrewsbury. N. J., to
Elizabeth Ann, daughter of Samuel Breese, Esq., and granddaughter of
Dr. Finley, President of the College of New Jersey.
In 1795, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the
University of Edinburgh.
Dr. Morse looked with deep concern on the progress of infidelity in this
country, consequent on the French llevolution ; and he made a vigorous
stand against it, not only from the pulpit, but through the press. In 1798,
he preached a Fast sermon and a Thanksgiving sermon, and in 1799, a Fast
sermon, all which were published, and had a direct bearing upon the pecu-
liar state of the times. The second of tlie.se discourses particularly gained
a wide circulation, and was regarded as one of the most bold, vigorous, and
patriotic efforts of the day.
When a new Professor of Divinity in Harvard College was to be chosen
after the death of Dr. Tappan in ISUl, Dr. Morse felt himself called upon,
as a member of the Board of Overseers, to oppo.se the election of the most
prominent candidate, on the ground that his religious opinions differed essen-
tially from those which were hold by the founder of the Professorship, and
which must have been originally contemplated in its estaldishment. He
published a pamphlet entitled " The true reasons on which the election of
JEDEDIAII MORSE. 249
a Hollis Professor of Divinity in Harvard College was opposed at the Board
of Overseers." It was written with great vigour and spirit, and was equally
acceptable to one party and offensive to the other.
Shortly after this, in July 1805, with a view especially to illustrate and
defend the commonly received orthodoxy of New England, with reference tv
the peculiar state of things which at that time existed. Dr. Morse projected
and carried into effect a plan for a new religious magazine, entitled " The
Pauoplist." Of this magazine he was the sole editor for five years : though
many valuable contribuiiuns were made to it l)y his lirethren in different
parts of the country, the whole responsibility, and a large part of the labour,
of conducting the enterprise, devolved upon himself. It was regarded as
the most important organ of the orthodox party, of that day. It became
subsequently, in other hands, "Tho Punoplist and Missionary Herald," and
at a still later period "The Missionary Herald," under which lattername it
has been continued ever sinco.
Dr. Morse was one of the few individuals principally concerned in the
t'Stablisliment of the Theological Seminary at Andover. He laboured for it
with untiring assiduity, and his interest in its prosperity never faltered to
tlie last. His correspondence in respect to it was very extensive, and shows
how intensely his mind was fixed on concentrating the influence of the ortho-
dox churches of New England in aid of the project.
Dr. Morse continued his ministry in Charlestown until the spring of 1820,
when, owing to various circumstances more or less affecting his comfort, he
resigned his pastoral charge. Immediately after this, he removed with his
family to New Haven, where he continued to reside till the close of his life.
For some time previous to his leaving Charlestown, Dr. Morse had taken a
deep interest in the civilization and Christianizatiou of the various Indian tribes
in our neighbourhood ; and in February of that year, he received a commis-
sion, signed by John C. Calhoun, Secretary at War, to make a visit of
observation and inspection to those tribes, with a view to ascertain their
actual condition and to devise the most suitable means for their improve-
ment. Tliis commission he executed in two successive winters, and sub-
mitted the result of his inquiries to the Department in the form of a
Report, which was published in an octavo volume in 1822. This Document
contains a vast amount of valuable information, illustrative of the character
and habits of the Indians, which was then, for the first time, embodied in a
permanent form.
It has already been intimated that Dr. Morse was, from an early period,
specially interested in the science of Geography. The idea of preparing a
work on this subject seems to have been first suggested to him liy his own
necessity, while he was a teacher in New Haven. He prepared, in manu-
script, a substitute for that of Guthrie, an English author, whose book was
then in use in our Colleges, — Geography not being studied in common schools.
Mr. Morse's manuscript was copied extensively by his pujiils. It was
l»rinted first in 178-4 ; and though it was far from lieing a thoroughly matured
work, it was the germ of all his subsequent geographical productions, which
have given him so much renown on both continents, and have justly entitled
him to be considered the father of American Geography. Both his (Jcogra-
fthy and Gazetteer not only passed through numerous editions in various
forms, in this country, but in England, Scotland, and Ireland ; and were
tr:iTisl)t:d and puldished in the German aiid French languages: and his
250 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
School geography was a common text-book in schools throughout the coun-
try, during the author's life time ; and since his death, the work continued
by one of his sons, is still widely circulated.
Dr. Morse was not only associated with most of the great benevolent objects
of the day, but his forecast and energy combined with his philanthropy, to
render him a leader in several of them, and even to anticipate their exist-
ence. He was pre-eminently the friend of the coloured race; and in 1811,
six years before the formation of the American Colonization Society, he
interested himself deeply in assisting a considerable number of them in
migrating from Boston to the English Colony of Sierra Leone. He was also
considerably in advance of the formation of any Tract Society in this country,
in his efforts to promote the cause of religion through this instrumentality.
In the year 18U2, an aggregate of more than thirty thousand copies of
twenty different Tracts were published, partly at his own expense, and partly
with funds which he himself collected from benevolent individuals, chieflv
his own parishioners and his wealthy personal friends in Boston. These
Tracts were circulated chiefly in Maine, Tennessee, Kentucky, and other
then newly settled parts of the country.
It may be added, as an instance of his adventurous spirit, as well as his
general love of improvement, that when vaccination was first discovered, and
the community in which he lived, almost universally stood aloof from it
with distrust and aversion, he gave it at once his full confidence and intro-
duced it into his own family; thus setting an example which was soon
followed extensively in that vicinity, and, before long, throughout the whole
country.
After Dr. Morse removed to New Haven, he was occupied chiefly in lite-
rary pursuits, and preached occasionally on the Sabbath for the accommodation
of his brethren, or in the way of supplying a vacant pulpit. His health,
though not very firm, continued comfortable until within a few weeks of his
death ; and then he gradually declined, without being the subject of any
strongly marked disease. Ilis last hours evinced the same buoyancy, under
the control of a vigorous faith, which had formed one of the most striking
peculiarities of his character through life. Just before he expired, his eldest
son asked him some question with a view to ascertain the state of his mind, and
his answer was — "a hope full of immortality — that expresses it;" and these
were his last words. He died at New Haven on the 9th of June, 1826.
His funeral sermon was preached by the Hev. Dr. Bacon.
Besides the works already mentioned. Dr. Morse published the following : —
A Sermon on the death of Richard Gary, 1790. A Thanksgiving Sermon,
1795. A Sermon on the death of the Hon. Thomas Russell, 1796. A
Sermon on the death of James Russell, 1798. A Sermon on the National
Fast, 1798. A Sermon before a Free Masons' Lodge, 1798. A Thanks-
giving Sermon, 1798. A Sermon on the day of the National Fast, 1799. An
Address to the students of Phillips' Academy, 1799. A Sermon on the death
of Washington, 1799. An Introductory Address at the dedication of the
Baptist meeting house in Charlestown, 1801. A Sermon before the Humane
Society, 1801. A Sermon before the Ancient and Honourable Artillery
Company, 1803. A Sermon at the ordination of Hczekiah May,* 1803.
* Hezekiah May waa a native of Iladdam, Conn. ; was graduated at Vale College in 1793;
was ordained«pastor of the Second church in Marblehcad, June 22, 1803; resigned his charge
January 27, 1808; and died in 1843.
JEDEDIAn MORSE. 251
A Compendious History of New England, (In connection with Elijah Parish,
D. D.,) 1804. A Sermon on the death of Miss Mary Russell, 180G. A
Sermon before the Managers of the Boston Female Asylum, 1807. A
Sermon at the ordination of Joshua Huntington, 1808. A Sermon on the
abolition of the African Slave Trade, 1808. A Sermon before the Society
for propagating the Gospel among the Indians and others in North America,
1810. A Convention Sermon, 1812. A Sermon on a day of Fasting and
Prayer in consequence of a Declaration of War with Great Britain, 1812.
An Appeal to the public on the controversy respecting the revolution in
Harvard College, 1814. A Sermon before the Society for Foreign Missions
in Boston and the vicinity, 1815. A Sermon at the ordination of Eliakim
Phelps at West Brookfield, 1816. A Sermon before the American Board
of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, 1821.
Dr. Morse had eleven children, eight of whom died in infancy. His three
sons, who reached maturity — Samuel Finley Breese, Sidiiey Edwards,
and Richard Cary. are all graduates of Yale College, and still survive, occu-
pying fields of honourable usefulness. The first mentioned, it is well known
is connected with the most brilliant discovery of the age.
FROM THE REV. PAYSON WILLISTON.
East Hampton, August 4, 1855.
Dear Sir : Among my cla.^s-mates concerning whom j'ou ask for my recollections,
is Morse — the late J)r. Moiscof Charlestown. When you remember that I have
seen ninety -two years, seventy -two of which have passed since I graduated, you
may well suppose that my recollections of the companions of my college life have
grown somewhat indistinct; and yet, such as they are, I cheerfully communicate
them to be used in any manner your judgment may dictate.
I remember Morse, wlien he came to College, as a j'oung man of dark complexion
and dark ej'cs, with a more than commonlj^ intellectual face, that easily lighted up
into a smile. He had a very fair reputation as a scholar, and was distinguished
not more for good talents than for vigorous application; though he scarcely gave
promise of the eminence which he finally attained. He was not a little celelirated
for his musical powers — his voice, especially on the counter, was one of the
sweetest I ever heard. I heard him preach once, and that was at Wilbraham in
this State, in the early part of his ministry. His manner in the pulpit struck me
as uncommonly engaging, and his discourse, as I now remember it, was highly
creditable to both his talents and his spirit. I should not hesitate to pronounce
him as altogether an attractive preacher.
Dr. Morse exhibited through life an almost matchless industry and perseve-
rance, and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. It was perhaps a fault in his
character that, by the steady contemplation of an object, he would sometimes
gain an exaggerated estimate of its importance, and that he would hold to it with
an unj-ielding tenacity, where a cooler judgment might have led him to relax.
He was connected with several important controversies in Avhich he exhibited
great zeal and energy, as well as ability; and it was not strange, therefore, that
he should have made himself obnoxious to many, with whom he was thus brought
into collision. In his private intercourse he was most gentlemanly and courteous,
and was perfectly at home in the most polished society. No one can doubt that
he was one of the men of mark in the last generation.
Affectionately yours.
!•. U ILLISTON.
252 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL
FROM THE REV. ISAAC HURD, D. D.
Exeter, January 6. 1855.
My dear Sir: My reminiscences in respect to Dr. Morse are not so vivid and
distinct as might be supposed from the circumstance of my having been brought
up under his ministry. Much of my time, however, after having reached an age
sufficient to remark upon liis character, was spent from home. Wiiile preparing
for College, and during ni)^ residence there, and when engaged in the study of
Theology, I was absent from Charlestown, and had no other than a casual inter-
course with Dr. Morse. My memory does not go back to the period of his first
settlement; but, as far as personal recollections extend, my impressions of him
are of a pleasant and favourable nature. He is associated in my mind with all
those qualifications which I have considered as belonging to a pious and devoted
minister of Christ.
M}^ first distinct recollection of him as a pastor, is when, with other children,.
I attended a class to be instructed in Watts' and the Assembly's Catechisms.
His manner was serious and affectionate, and such as was fitted to impress us
with a sense of the great importance of religion, and of his personal interest in
our highest good. 1 remember also attending the familiar lectures which he some-
times gave during the week. He was not fluent as an extemporaneous speaker,
yet he rendered religious meetings highly interesting and profitable by reading
pnnted discourses. It was not customary at the time to which I refer, to have
a vestry or chapel connected with the church, where stated prayer meetings and
lectures were attended; but such exercises were sometimes held in a large school
room. There is now fresh in my recollection a course of reading which he gave
on Saturday evenings upon a little work of Bishop Porteus on the Evidences of
Christianity. Though he added but few original remarks, yet his superior style
of reading, and his sweet, silver-toned voice imparted a charm to those lectures
which rendered them in a high degree interesting. To the younger part of his
society, for wliose benefit they were specially designed, these readings were always
attractive. The room was every evening completely filled. Young persons of
intelligence and education, and from families of influence, were uniformh^ present,
and anticipated the return of the meetings with cordial pleasure. I can distinctly
recall tlie deep solemnity and interest which then prevailed among the younger
members of the parish, and which we may believe, with respect to some of them,
resulted in a permanently good effect on the character.
Though I should not say that Dr. Morse possessed any remarkable gift in
prayer, he appeared to me to be a man of deep religious emotion. His feelings at
times were strongly excited in the pulpit, particularly when reading some striking
and impressive portions of Scripture — such as the history of Joseph, and the
scene of our Saviour's sufferings. Not unfrequently I have seen him so much
moved, that it was with difficulty that he proceeded through the chapter. Some-
times also, during the Communion service, his feelings were much affected. In
singing the concluding hj'mn at the Lord's Supper, he would be melted even to
tears, and bending forward, and calling out his favourite tune of ' ' Little Marl-
borough," would commence singing before those wliose office it was to lead, were
fully prej)ared to enter upon the service.
He had a cultivated taste in music, and was himself an excellent singer. His
correct ear and extreme sensibility to the slightest di.scord led him, in some
instances, to notice rather too abruptly the mistakes of the choir. On one occasion,
after they had proceeded partly through the psalm which had been given out,
they committed some error, which grated so harshly on the Doctor's ears, that
he could not resist the impulse to express his feelings; and rising up, he .said,
they need not go on any farther. The singers, considering this a public
rebuke, manifested their sense of the indignity, by absenting themselves in the
I
JEDEDIAH MORSE. 253
afternoon from the orchestra. Dr. ^lorse conducted the music himself the
remainder of the day, and continued Avith perfect calmness and self-possession to
do so for several successive Sabhaths, until the choir became sufficiently com-
posed to ]"esume their seats.
i>r. Morse was a man of great ardour and activity of mind, and he would have
found it difficult to confine his energies within the limits of his own parish.
Besides tiie literary works in which he was more or less engaged, he took a deep
interest in the political state of the country. I recollect his preaching on a jjarti-
cular occasion a discourse bearing so strongly upon the great political questions of
the day, that one man of the congregation, wrought up to a high pitch of excite-
ment, exclaimed in the midst of the service — " I don't believe it;" and, opening his
pew door with violence, walked out of the church. There seemed indeed to be
hardly any subject that engaged the public interest, which did not at once awaken
his curiosity or excite his sympath}-. His influence was ever ready to be thrown
into the scale of what he considered the cause of right. He would make it his
own cause, and would eagerly bring to bear upon its accomplishment his prompt
and off-hand efforts. Yet it seemed to me that, with these various objects
which solicited his attention and engaged his pursuit, — objects apparently aside
from his ministerial profession, and viewed by some as in no wise conducive
to its great results, — he associated in his own mind the attainment of some reli-
gious end; that there was less of a secular character in these diversified pursuits,
as presented to himself, than appeared to the w^orld. He viewed the different
paths which his zeal and sanguine temperament were ever opening before him, as
only different ways of reaching the same general result. In controversy he was
resolyte and fearless, fertile in expedients, and so confident of success as to exhibit
all the glow of anticipated victory; and it is perhaps only fair to add that his
manner was sometimes such as to give needless occasion to a severe construction
of his motives. When any great plan engaged his attention, few men were so
capable as he of bringing together collateral helps, of meeting opposing obstacles,
and of pressing forward without discouragement to the attainment of the proposed
end. He was viewed, and justly, as a man of no ordinary power.
1 have thus, my dear Sir, given you my personal recollections of Dr. Morse.
Since the events here alluded to transpired, many years have passed away. How
far the impressions made on my mind accord with the real character of Dr. Morse,
I will not venture to say. If what I have written shall be of the smallest service
to you, it will give me pleasure to have written it.
With great regard, I am, my dear sir,
Very sincerely yours,
ISAAC HURD.
FROM THE REV. JOHN TODD, D. D.
PiTTSFiELD, May 21, 1855.
Dear Dr. Sprague: I was a boy, perhaps fourteen years old, when I first saw
Dr. Morse. He was then the pastor over the old church and society in Charles-
town. As I was then living with my cousin, Jeremiah Evarts, (as a kind of boy-
clerk and factotum,) who was a member of Dr. Morse's church and a very parti-
cular friend, I was, therefore, often at his house on errands. Moreover, as I sat
under his ministry for several years, and as I first made a profession of religion
at about the age of fifteen under him, I had a good opportunity to know him well
as a teacher, friend, and guide, and to receive such impressions as would be
natural to a boy of my age. It is such impressions only that I now propose to
give.
1 recall him as I remember him m the pulpit, and in the social circle. On the
canvass of the memory, his form stands out before mc, tall, slight, graceful, and
a little stooping, as lie rises in the pulpit on tlie Sabbath morning. His counte-
254 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
nance is uncommonly mild and benignant, — his face is rather long, pale, and care-
worn,— his forehead high and fair. His hair is thin, white, silky, dressed with
great care, and I think neatly powdered. His eye runs over the congregation
quick, and though mild and gentle, I presume it instantly takes in every full pew,
and every vacant pew, and every stranger, in his large church edifice. It is an
eye that unites the gentle, the bright, and the quick, in an uncommon degree.
His voice is soft, mild, musical, though on too high a key and not of great com-
pass. Perhaps it comes too near to the term chanting; not that it is unpleasant,
but that it lacks depth, compass, and power. In delivering the sermon, which
he always writes out in full, and which lies before him, in its black morocco case,
he seems to aim to win, draw, and persuade, rather than to overwhelm with
argument, or drive by the awfulness of manner or matter. Though all my
remembrances of his preaching are only pleasurable, yet I cannot now recall
striking things, peculiar things, or odd things, that he says in the pulpit. He
never cultivates prongs. He has the appearance of a venerable and most afl'ec-
tionate father, addressing his children, rather than a reprover, rebuking evil doers,
or a judge reading from his scroll the condemnation of the guilty. He loves rather
to pluck the roses that grow on Mount Zion, than to handle the thorns which
cluster around Sinai. I can recall no one thing which I ever heard him say in
the pulpit, which left an unpleasant impression, nor can I recall many that pricked
like goads, and left their impression upon the conscience, like a nail fixed in a
sure place. His mild, beaming face and melodious voice do much to cover up
asperities, should there be any.
In his dress, personal appearance, and manners, Dr. Morse still stands before
the eye, as a gentleman of the old school. He wears a long coat and full vest of
the day, small clothes with buckles at the knee, black silk stockings and nicely
polished shoes. His neckcloth is of snowy whiteness, and his gloves black silk,
with the tips of the fingers cut off. When he walks the street with his gold-
headed cane, his tall and graceful form and his whole appearance point him out
to a stranger as a gentleman in all his habits. *His manners are highly polished,
and he has uncommon conversational powers. Having a personal acquaintance
all over the country, in correspondence abroad with such men as Wilberforce,
Zachary Macauley, and Dr. Erskine, having a memory which is a vast reposi-
tory of information, individual history, and anecdote, it is not surprising that he
is one of the most agreeable of men in conversation.
At his day, before the religious press had become a power, or had hardly an
existence, men had more intercourse by correspondence and by personal inter-
views than now. He lived before, rather than behind, his age, and there was no
great and good enterprise moved, whether through the Press, Home Missionary
Society, Theological Seminary, Education Society, or Foreign Missions, where he
was not foremost. I remember with what energy he took hold of the first reli-
gious newspaper ever published in the land — The Recorder — .started and brought
into existence by his son, Sidney E. Morse, and that he took upon himself the
pecuniary responsibility, when otherwise the enterprise would have failed.
At a day when strong men were smiting the rock to draw out the waters of
the many rivers which now make glad the city of our God, there had to be, of
necessity, a great amount of consultation, discussion, and planning. All the
great benevolent institutions of the land were organized almost simultaneously.
At that day, too, hospitality was a greater, or certainly a more common, virtue
than now, and the house of Dr. Morse was always full. Living in the centre of
the town, within a few minutes walk of Boston, and keeping open doors, he had
no lack of company. Mrs. Morse, too, was a noble specimen of a woman. And
here let me say, that if we men who toil out amid the storms of life, and who.se
works are noisy, seen, and known, — if we accomplish anything of value, it is
often, if not generally, fully as much owing to the encouragements and aid we
JEDEDIAH MORSE. 265
receive from those help-meets who are not seen, known, or praised, as to our own
efforts. Mrs. Morse was the first female that ever gave me the full impression of
what a wife and mother can be. Her sons were then with her, and the genius
and enterprise that have since been manifested through the press, authorship, the
pencil of the artist, and the telegraph wires, were then beginning to show them-
selves. An orphan myself, and never having known a home, many a time have I
gone away from Dr. Morse's house in tears, feeling that such a home must be
more like Heaven, than any thing of which I could conceive. The inventor of the
Telegraph, — that marvel which will carry his name down to the end of time,
which will do more to civilize and elevate humanity than we can now conceive, —
had just returned from Europe, where he had been to complete his professional
studies. One of the first things he did, on his return, was to paint his mother,
reading by candle light. It was a small picture, and though I saw it in a room
containing " The dying Hercules," and the like, yet it was the only picture I
saw. It made my flesh creep. It might not do so now, but I have seen many
paintings since, and never one that made the impression on me which that did.
Was it the picture or my youth ? Or does every one receive such an impression
from some one picture ? Alas ! the apple we eat in boyhood will never be the
same when plucked by manhood. Mrs. Morse did her full share in managing the
domestic affairs of the family, in receiving and entertaining her numerous guests,
and in making her house what the people were wont to call " a public house, though
not a tavern." Her house was open to all, and seldom did I go there, as I often
went on errands, without finding it full. It was a hospitality beyond anything I
have ever seen. Without detracting a whit from the father, I feel that the mother
of the Morses deserves to be held in most honourable memory. If she made
impression on them in proportion as she did on me, her influence in forming their
characters must have been very great.
Dr. Morse lived before his times, and was in advance of his generation. So I
thought when a boy, and so I think now. Others will speak on these points; I
am only recalling the impressions which I received. I well remember attending
the first meeting ever held in that region, to organize a Sabbath School. Dr.
Morse was the mover in it, and I was a teacher from its very opening. I remem-
ber him as he stood at the weekly meetings in the chapel, in his garden, — his
tender intercourse with young converts, — and as he stood at the Communion table,
and with the affection of John, the beloved disciple, brake bread to his flock.
Those who agreed with him in doctrinal belief, loved and revered him as a
father, — those who did not, were any thing but cordial. His friends were warm
and so were his enemies. He lived in a transition day, when old things were
crumbling away and new elements were combining and crystallizing; when opin-
ions had to be Aveighed and tried ; when every part of character was put to the
rack, and when things which are now known to be small and of little consequence
looked large. It is no wonder if a ship roUing and tossing on those stormy
waters, should be made to reveal all the weaknesses she had. But when the time
comes, if ever it shall come, when the men of that generation shall be impartially
estimated, I have no doubt but it will be found that one of the most ready and
efficient workers and far-reaching planners of his day was Jedediah Mokse.
Yours most truly,
J. TODD.
FROM SAMUEL F. B. MORSE, ESQ.
PouGHKEEPSiE, May 24, 1856.
My dear Sir : At your request, I give you very hastily some personal reminis-
cences of ray venerated father. I say ' hastily,' for I am called upon for them
quite unexpectedly, and on the eve of my departure for Europe.
i
256 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
The most prominent trait of my father's character, and that which is indelibly
inscribed on my memory, is his charity, — charity in the New Testament sense as the
great master principle of Christianity. As the fruit and evidence of this may be
mentioned his untiring invention of enlarged plans of beneiitting his fellow men. llis
mind was ever on the alert to seize every means, and press them into the service
of good to all mankind. In no other man, whom I liave known, has the "hive
of Christ " so evidently been the great controlling and constraining motive to all
ins beneficent plannings. In no other one have I known it to be in such constant
exercise. It was shown towards mankind at large, in his nursing of the infant
Tract Society, when, in its earliest existence, it was embodied in liimself as the
selector, the publisher, and chief distributor, of Religious Tracts, when the first
Tract Depository in the United States was a small room partitioned oil from his
stable. It was shown towards the African race, when he planned with the well
known and intelligent coloured sea captain, Paul CufFee, the first Colonization
scheme for the Christianization of Africa with emancipated Christian blacks. It
was shown in his zealous co-operation with the first planners of the American Bible
Society, to give a permanent location and organization to that noble institution. It
was shown in his prominence as a founder of the Theological Seminary of Andover .
It was shown in his labours with other kindred minds in the planning and organ-
izing of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, and in his
personal efforts as one of the Prudential Committee with Worcester and Evarts,
in managing its concerns. And it was shown in the last days of his life, when
his ruling passion exerted itself in labours to benefit the American Indians. Nor
was his benevolence limited to the larger fields for its exercise. Hospitality was
the sign of my father's house, not for the wealthy and distinguished alone, but
for the poor and unpretending. Talleyrand, when an exile, was cordially enter-
tained at his table, but not more so than some of his poorer and more unpolished
clerical brethren.
His property, earned by his geographical and other literary labours, was lib-
erally dispensed to the foreign exile, as well as to the needy native. I remember
well the tears of gratitude of a Frenchman, to whom mj'^ father had given letters
to some of his friends, with a small supply of funds, which procured for him in
the interior of the State an honourable and lucrative position as a teacher: he
came into my father's study to express his thanks. My father had said to him,
" I can give you but little money, but I hope my letters will be of service." On
receiving his thanks and being made acquainted with his success, my father
replied: " I could give you but little money." "Yes," said the exile, " but it
was given so heartily, with so much good will. It was enough. I read your
heart. I wanted sympathy more than money, but you gave both."
This, in a few words, my dear Sir, was my father.
With sincere respect, your friend and servant,
SAMUEL F. B. MORSE.
I
RICHARD SALTER STORRS. 257
RICHARD SALTER STORRS *
1785—1819.
Richard Salter Storrs was a son of the Rev. John and Eunice
(Conant) Storrs, and was born at Mansfield, Conn., August 30, 1763. His
father was graduated at Yale College in 1756 ; was a Tutor there in 1761
and 1762 ; and was ordained pastor of the church in Southold, Long Island,
August 15, 1763. His congregation was so much broken up by the Revo-
lutionary war, that, in August 1776, he returned to Mansfield, where his
patrimony lay, and was absent from his charge until June, 1782, having
served, in the mean time, for a considerable period, as Chaplain in the
army. He remained with his congregation until April, 1787, when he
resigned his pastoral charge. He died at Mansfield in 1799.
At the age of thirteen, Richard Salter Storrs went to live with the Rev.
Dr. Salter of Mansfield, who was married to an aunt of young Storrs'
mother ; — the one being a daughter, the other a granddaughter, of the Rev.
Eleazer Williams of Mansfield. Dr. Salter took charge of his education,
and treated him as if he had been his son ; though there is said to have
been some obligation to this devolved upon him in the division of his father-
in-law's estate.
His studies, preparatory to his College course, were conducted by Dr.
Salter. He entered the Freshman class in Yale College in 1779. During
his Sophomore year, he became the subject of deep religious impressions,
and, in the vacation previous to the commencement of his Junior year,
united with the church in Mansfield, under the pastoral care of his venera-
ble relative. He was graduated in 1783, at the age of twenty, having
been distinguished for scholar^^hip through his whole College course. After
studying Theology two years, under Dr. Salter's direction, he was licensed
to preach the Gospel. The church in Longmeadow, then vacant by the
death of the Rev. Dr. Stephen Williams, had fixed an eye upon him as a
suitable person to succeed Dr. W., some months before he was licensed,
and had applied to him to preach to them as a candidate at his earliest con-
venience. Accordingly, after having supplied the pulpit in Hebron, Conn.,
a few Sabbaths, he commenced preaching at Longmeadow, and, in due
time, received from the church and society a unanimous call to become their
pastor. He accepted the call, and was ordained on the 7th of December,
1785. The sermon on the occasion was preached by his father, and was
published.
Here Mr. Storrs continued, occupying a high place in the regards of his
people and of the community at large, for nearly thirty-four years. In the
latter part of September, 1819, he took a slight cold, which proved the
harbinger of a violent attack of typhus fever, that terminated his life.
During his last days he was much inclined to drowsiness ; but there were
intervals in which he had the full command of his faculties ; and then he
expressed a calm and full acquiescence in the will of his Heavenly Father,
and a perfect conviction of the truth of the doctrines which he had preached.
He died on the 3d of October, in the fifty-seventh year of his age. His
•MS. from the Rev. Dr. Storrs.
Vol. II. 33
258 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
funeral sermon was preached by the Kev. Dr. Osgood of Springfield, from
1 Cor. XV. 57.
The only production of Mr. Storrs' pen known to be in print, is a Sermon
preached at the installation of the Rev. Stephen Williams.*
Mr. Storrs was married, October 12, 1785, to Sally, daughter of the
Kev. Noah Williston of East Haven; and, after her death, in 1798, to
Sarah Williams, granddaughter of his predecessor. He had ten children, —
seven by the first marriage, and three by the second. One of his sons,
Richard Salter, was graduated at Williams College in 1807, and has been
for many years, pastor of the Congregational church in Braiutree, Mass.
Another son, Charles Backus, who had a brief, but eminently useful, career,
forms the subject of a separate article in this work.
FROM THE REV. PATSON WILLISTON.
East Hampton, August 9, 1855.
My dear Sir: My relations with the Rev. Mr. Storrs were of an intimate and
endearing kind, from the time we entered College till the close of his life. He was
not only my class-mate, but, during part of our College course, my room-mate;
and, within two or three years after our graduation, he was married to my sister.
We were settled in places not very remote from each other; and our intercourse
was frequent, fraternal, and delightful.
Mr. Storrs had a very high standing in College as a scholar, as was indicated
hy the fact of his being the Salutatory Orator of his class. There was no depart-
ment of scholarship in which he did not excel. He might easily have obtained
the Dean's bounty; but he thought that that would require a disproportionate
attention to classical studies, and he chose rather to take a wider range. He was
universally regarded in College as a person of an uncommonly vigorous and com-
prehensive mind, and as possessing an unusual fecility at acquiring knowledge.
He had also a very high reputation as a speaker. His stately and manly form ;
his countenance expressive at once of earnestness and dignity; his clear, com-
manding, and penetrating voice, modulated to excellent effect; his noble attitudes
and significant, but never superfluous, gestures; rendered him one of the best
models of public speaking that we had in College at that day. And these advan-
tages he afterwai'ds turned to the best account in the pulpit. His delivery was
always characterized by an earnestness, and force, and self-possession, that ren-
dered it much more than commonly impressive. His style was simple, direct,
and forcible; and his grand aim seemed to be to make himself understood and
felt by his hearers.
Though Mr. Storrs always held a high rank as a preacher, and accomplished
much good by his ministry, I have no doubt that both his popularity and his use-
fulness were materially affected by the extreme suifering to which he was periodi-
cally subjected from the head-ache. It was a somewhat remarkable fact that,
notwithstanding this complaint occurred regularly once in three weeks, it never
overtook him on the Sabbath ; though the Sabbath often found him labouring
under its debilitating effect. This was doubtless the reason why he rarely com-
mitted himself to any public engagement abroad — he never could feel sure, owing
to his constant exposure to this distressing malady, that he should be able to
meet it.
One of the most striking features of Mr. Storrs' character was his remarkable
firmness of purpose. He not only would never even seem to yield a point, when he
•Stephen Williams was a son of the Rer. Stephen Williams of Woodstock, Conn., where
he was born, August 8, 1762 ; was installed pastor of the church in Fitzwilliam, N. H., Novem-
ber 4, 1800; was dismissed in November, 1802: and died in Woodstock, Vt., in 1822, aged
sixty.
RICHARD SALTER STORKS. 259
believed he was in the right, but he would sometimes meet the sohcitation to do
BO, with an indignant retort or a scathing rebuke. At the time of the famous
insurrection, known as Shays' rebelhon, one of his parishioners, who was of
rather a restless and officious turn, went to him and requested that he would not
attend the meetings at Springfield for the support of government, but would
spend the time in visiting his people. Said Mr. Storrs, — " Have I not been accus-
tomed to visit the people regularly in time past ?" " Yes." " Have I not visited
you as often as you had a right to expect.'" "Yes." " Well/' said he, " I
expect to continue to do as I have done; but as for going to Springfield, I shall
go Tj^hen I please, without asking leave of you or any body else." There was a
tree directly in the rear of the pulpit window in the Springfield meeting-house,
which so obstructed the light that Mr. Storrs found it difficult to read his sermon;
and he gave notice to some of the people that he would never preach there again
until the tree was removed. Not long after, being engaged to officiate there on
some public occasion, he rode towards the meeting-house until he reached a point
where he could see that the tree was still standing, and he unhesitatingly turned
his horse about and rode home, leaving the occasion to take care of itself.
Mr. Storrs was a person of uncommonly fine powers of conversation; and
when he was in good health and spirits, he was one of the most agreeable compan-
ions I ever met with. Though his manner was never otherwise than dignified, he
had a keen sense of the ludicrous, and had a great fund of anecdote at command,
which he knew how to apply with admirable efifect. His religious exercises were
no doubt considerably modified by the paroxysms of suffering, which formed so
large a part of his physical life; but those who knew him best, were most firmly
persuaded, not only of the reality, but of the intensity and depth, of his Chris-
tian experience. Affectionately yours,
P. WILLISTON.
FROM THE REV. DANIEL WALDO.
Geddes, July 8, 1852.
Dear Sir: The Rev. Richard Salter Storrs of Longmeadow, was my neigh-
bour during the whole time of my settlement at Suffield, — a period of eighteen
years; and he was my intimate friend till the close of his life. We often
exchanged pulpits, and exchanged visits; and there was scarcely any man with
whom I was on terms of more confidential intimacy.
He was a large, strongly -built man, with strong features and a bold, earnest
expression that gave you the idea that he had great energy at his command. And
this idea was fully in accordance with truth. His intellect was unquestionably
of a very high order. He had also a warm, confiding, and loving heart. He
had little reserve about any thing; and he sometimes uttered himself with a free-
dom that perhaps would scarcely consist with prudence. But his sincerity and
integrity of character were so strongly marked and so universally acknowledged,
tliat an occasional lapse on the score of prudence was easily overlooked.
Mr. Storrs' Theology was, I suppose, a high type of New England Calvinism;
and he was particularly jealous of any departures from it. Nevertheless he lived
on pleasant terms with those who differed from him; and with Dr. Howard of
Springfield particularly, who was professedly an Arminian, he had much agreea
ble intercourse and frequent exchanges. His preaching was of a pretty strong
doctrinal stamp, and was rather remarkable for plain dealing with the conscien-
ces of men. His manner in the pulpit was in a high degree dignified and earnest;
and he made you feel, as he evidently felt himself, that he was acting in the capa-
city of an ambassador of God. He was singularlj^ felicitous in his devotional
exercises. Few men cpuld touch all the circumstances belonging to a special
occasion, so felicitously as he. If he prayed at an ordination, for instance, it
would not be simply an ordaining prayer, but a prayer for that particular ordina-
260 trinitaria:!^ congregational.
tion, bringing to view whatever belonged to the occasion that was striking or dis-
tinctive.
Mr. Storrs had some infirmities, both bodily and mental, M'hich, no doubt., con-
siderably impaired his usefulness. Besides being through his whole ministry
almost a martyr to the head-ache, he was subject to frequent turns of great
depression of spirits. But, notwithstanding these inroads upon his comfort and
usefulness, he was a highly agreeable companion, and had an efficient and hon-
oured ministry. His venerable form, his kindly and dignified aspect, his impres-
sive manner, come up before me in grateful recollection, as if I had parted witlr
him but yesterday. Yours truly, ^
D. WALDO.
JACOB CATLIN, D. D *
1786—1826.
Jacob Catlin was a native of Harwinton, Conn., and was born in March,
1758. His father was a farmer, and he was himself early trained to the
same occupation, and cherished a fondness for it through life. In conse-
quence of his hopeful conversion during the period of his minority, he was
led to seek a liberal education. Having been fitted for College under the
instruction of a Mr. Perry, he entered at Yale, and was graduated in the
year 1784. For about a year after leaving College he was engaged in
teaching a school ; and then prosecuted his theological studies under the
direction of the Rev. Dr. West of Stockbridge, Mass., whose funeral ser-
mon he preached in the year 1819.
Mr. Catlin was ordained pastor of the church in New Marlborough, Mass.,
on the 4th of July, 1787, as successor to the Rev. Caleb Alexander. The
ordination sermon was preached by the Rev. Daniel Farrand of Canaan,
Conn.
In the same year, he was married to the widow of Joseph Strong of New
Marlborough, by whom he had seven children. As his salary was small,
and he became possessed of a farm in consequence of his marriage, he
managed his farm with great skill and to good purpose, though he never
allowed this class of engagements to interfere with the more important duties
he owed to his people. He was accustomed to write out one, two, or even
three sermons in a week ; the last being preached at a funeral, or at a third
Sunday service, in some one of the school districts in the parish. He also
attended one or two evening meetings in the week, in diflferent parts of his
congregation, and very frequently visited and addressed the school.
In the course of his ministry, he fitted a considerable number of young
men for College, being an excellent Latin and Greek scholar, and always
making advances in classical studies. Several also prosecuted their theolo-
gical studies under him, who have since been well known as faithful and
useful ministers.
His labours were, in several instances, attended by an extensive revival
of religion. The years 1798 and 1815 were particularly distinguished as
• MSS. from his family and Rev. Doctors David Smith and J. C. Brigham.
JACOB CATLIN. 261
witnessiog to large accessions to his church, while, at ordinary times, the
general tone of religious feeling among the members was vigorous and
healthful.
In 1818, he published a Compendium of Theology, under the title —
"What is Truth?" It has been regarded as a very able and well digested
view of the Calvinistic system, as it has generally been held in New
England. It passed to a second edition in 1825. He published also a
Discourse preached before a Free Masons' Lodge, in 1796, and three Sermons
in a volume entitled "Sermons collected," 1797.
In 1822, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by
the Corporation of Yale College.
Dr. Catlin continued his labours until 1825, when he ceased to preach on
account of impaired health. He died on the 12th of April, 1826, in the
sixty-ninth year of his age and the fortieth of his ministry. His wife sur-
vived him several years. One of his sons was a physician, and another was
graduated at Williams College in 1821.
FROM THE REV. JOHN C. BRIGHAM, D. D.
Bible House, New York, September 15, 1855.
Reverend and dear Sir : You ask me for my impressions of the late Rev. Dr.
Catlin. I give them with much satisfaction, as I have a great regard for his mem-
ory, and as he was one of those noiseless, laborious country pastors, who get less
of earthly credit, as it seems to me, compared witli their usefulness, than any
other class of men.
My first recollections of Dr. Catlin go back to my boyhood, in the early part of
this century, Vt^hen he had been settled some ten or twelve years. He was then in
the prime of life, of medium height, not fleshy, but strongly made, with a grave,
manly countenance, and a kindly bow of the olden time for all whom he met.
Ilis dress was always black, with small clothes buckled at the knee, a white stock
buckled behind, and a hat of large brim, slightly turned up at the side and behind.
In later years, his hat conformed nearly to ordinary usage.
In the management of his farm, which came, I believe, by marriage, in his visits
to the parish schools, in his conversation on public affairs, and in all his intercourse
with men, he was ever the dignified, consistent minister, leaving an impression on
everj' mind that, in his view, " Religion is the chief concern of mortals here below."
While to his farm he devoted much time, and was a successful husbandman, this
was not his leading, absorbing business. Some few who loved not the Gospel,
and were less successful than he in tilling the ground, I used to hear occasionally
complaining of the Parson's worldliness. But as I grew older, and saw how small
a salary he received, and how systematic and thorough he was as a minister, I could
not but admire his whole course. With his method, diligence, reflection, and
prayer, many pastors, I doubt not, might, at this day, follow his example with
profit both to body and soul.
As I was in part fitted for College by him, and occupied his study, I saw much
jf his daily and weekly habits. On Sabbath noon he had always a large number
of parishioners, who resided some distance from church, to spend the intermission
at his house. These were from diflerent parts of the town, and mostly of those
distinguished for their interest in religious matters. A part of the intermission, he
Avas always present. Here hard passages of Scripture were brought for explana-
tion, and cases of conscience for solution. Here the health and comfort, the sickness
and sorrows, and the spiritual condition of the parish, were brought to his notice,
so that he was prepared to study and to visit according to the conditions of his
flock. Here themes for sermons, as in later years I learned, were often brought
262 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
to his mind. Accordingly, on Mondaj' morning, us an ordinary rule, he entered
his study, folded paper for two seimons, and on each wrote a pa.ssage of Scripture
for a text. He then disappeared and saw to the aflUirs of his farm, during the
first half of Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thuj-sday: in the afternoon of
these days, he was sometimes in the held, hut more generally engaged in visiting
the sick or the .schools, or in delivering religious lectures in the more remote sec-
tions of the pari.sh. When Friday morning came, all out-door employments were
laid aside. He entered the study earl}-, with a serious, thoughtful countenance,
and took up in silence one of the folded papers on which the Monday morning text
had been recorded, lie seized his pen, and began at once to put down his thoughts
— thoughts which had evidently been conned over and over, and arranged during
the many hours of labour in the field. No time was spent in walking the room,
or turning over dusty tomes in search of other men's ideas, or in thumping his
head to bring out his own. Now^ and then he turned to his Concordance for a
passage of Scripture; but with this exception, and a few moments for meals and
famil}^ worship, he drove on his quill, not rapidly, but without cessation, until
the close of the day, when the sermon was finished. On Saturday morning, the
second folded paper was taken up, and by a like diligence was completed by the
going down of the sun, when, with him, the hours of hoi}' time had arrived. It
seemed to me then, — and I have the same impression still, that these sermons were
more thoroughly thought out and methodized, than if he had .spent the whole
week over them in his study. By this mode of preparation for the Sabbath, with
numerous discourses for funerals, thanksgivings, fasts, &c., which were all written
out, the number of his sermons was nearly one thousand, long before the close of
liis ministry.
But while Dr. C. was a diligent writer of sermons, he was still more diligent as,
a preacher of them, as some were several times repeated in different places.
Besides preaching twice in the church on the Sabbath, a third discourse was very
often delivered in one of the largo school-houses in the remoter parts of the parisli.
Frequently too, particularly when there was unusual seriousness among the people,
week-day meeting.s were held in the same places, with a sermon and appropriate ex-
hortations. 1 remember, also, a practice of his, in concert with several contiguous
pastors — that of joint meetings with two or more of them at the corner junctions of
their several parishes, where many families, being distant from any church, were
neglectful of religious concerns. The sermons on these occasions were serious,
earnest, and practical, and were followed with one or more faithful exhortations
from the other pastors present. 1 have now no recollection of any religious meet-
ings which were more deeply solemn than these, or followed by more happy
results. Many, verj'^ many, who thus had the Gospel brought to their doors,
embraced it heartily, and have since been shining lights in the church. I have
still fresh in niemoiy the joy which the Doctor had in these meetings and their
fruits. This same desire to reach the minds of those who did not hear or profit
by the ordinary services of the sanctuary, led him to unite with other pastors of
the county in preparing two volumes of sermons at different periods, — their
own productions, for the use of all who would receive them, at a low price. One
of these volumes at least, was edited wholly by Dr. Catlin; and both received much
of his time and labour in their distribution. In looking at the.se collected sermons
now, I can hardly conceive of any writings better calculated to enlighten and save
men; and at the time of their publication, when books and periodicals were
scarce, they were read with most salutary effects. I am not certain that such
volumes at this day, written by well-known pastors, on awakening themes, would
not be read with more interest and profit than attend most of our religious reading.
In the great benevolent movements of this century Dr. Catlin took an early
and active interest. As soon as the American Bible Society was formed, that of
Berkshire County followed. Through his personal exertions, many subscribers
JACOB CATLIN. 263
were obtained in his township, and many books put by him in circulation. Through
his advice, I then, by annual membership, became connected with a cause in which
most of my life has been spent. The cause of Missions he warmly espoused from
the first, and strove to breathe the new apostolic spirit into all his people. The
cause of education, in all its branches, found in him a constant and laborious
friend. For many years he was one of the Trustees of Williams College, and
spared no effort to give it success and usefulness. Through his counsels mainly,
a lengthened list from his own parish were led to seek a public education, and not
a few of them prepared for College bj^ himself. Some of these and others besides,
afterwards studied Theology with him, and were by himself and others, inducted
to the sacred office. I can call to mind several who preached their first sermons
in his pulpit, and shall never forget the grateful heavenly glow of his countenance
on such occasions.
I'he preaching of Dr. C. was usually what would be called doctrinal. The
sovereignty, justice, and holiness of God; the depravity of man, the necessity of
regeneration, and punishment of the wicked, wei'e often presented to his hearers
with earnest argument, strongly fortified by Scripture. But, while urging often
the Divine agency, as extending to all events, he was equally urgent in his calls
on men for personal activity. None could be more faithful, especially in times of
revival, in the use of means himself, and in his exhortations to others to use them.
He believed most fully in the union of Divine sovereignty and free human
agency. I have a manuscript sermon of his now before me from Acts xxvii, 31,
" Except these abide in the ship, ye cannot be saved," — in which both the above
doctrines are brought out and vindicated. His people, too, were trained to doctri-
nal discussion and discrimination. In his weekly evening conference meeting, his
usual method was, in connection with singing and prayers, to read a chapter in
the Bible with a running exposition, and then to invite any disposed, to ask
questions or to express their own views in regard to the chapter. It was surpri-
sing to see with what feeling and ability many of the members of his church would
enter into these discussions, — men, too, of moderate education and daily toil.
By the pastor's instructions and their stimulated researches, these men, — some
of them at least, were versed, if not mighty, in the Scriptures. Every part was
fiimiliar to them, and verse after verse could be quoted from memory, and doctrines
drawn out and harmonized.
Dr. Catlin was exceedingly fond of meeting with his ministerial brethren.
Aside from the regular quarterly meetings of the Berkshire Association, which
extended over the county, he had a narrower circle of six or eight contiguous
pastors, who held monthly meetings for their own improvement and that of their
people. These latter meetings were never continued beyond a day and evening;
and yet there was time for much discussion and critici.sm, and for a solemn public
meeting. During my last year in College, and my three years of theological
study at Andover, I was frequently at home, and accompanied the Doctor to these
meetings and to those of the County Association. It was at a period when the Asso-
ciation embraced Doctors Hyde, Shepherd, Catlin, Humphrey, Field, and others,
and when almost every church in the county had been recently blessed with pure
revivals and large accessions of new members. I suppose the times had much to do
with the character of those Association meetings, for I have looked in vain since
for the like. Having no spirit-fretting church suits to settle, their great business
seemed to be, by mutual help, to determine how they could, in the best ways,
draw out the rich truths of the Bible, and implant them in the minds and hearts
of men. At the close of these meetings, they were evidently eager to get
home to their respective flocks, and put to use the new light which they had
received.
But with some of the last of these Association meetings, so grateful to the
Doctor, my recollections of him become mingled with sadness. His mind, partica
264 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
iarly his memory, began to exhibit symptoms of decay. His own attention was
called to some new mental conditions. The first noticed by me was in going With
him ill a chaise to one of these monthly ministerial meetings. Our course was due
East, and )'et he would repeatedly say it seemed to him we were going V»'est. Then
the course he observed was riglit once more, and soon after this, all again was
changed. It seemed to him mysterious, as the road was one which he had travelled
often through many years. A few months after this, we were returning in the
same vehicle from the County Association, and in ascending slowly a long hill, on
a sudden, he sprang from his seat, and before I could seize him, plunged over the
dash-board, and was under the horse's feet. As the horse was gentle, the good
man was soon extricated, and replaced with little injury in the chaise. lie apolo
gized for his sudden leap, saying that he thought the chaise was running rapidly
backwards down a precipice. Ilis health now gradually' declined, and otiier
mental frailties were developed. At times he would express a desire to return
home, when in his own dw^elling. Yet there was no time when he did not have
clear and comforting views of religious subjects; and he could lead the devotions
of the fomily with propriety after his powers wandered on all other topics. Even
when most bewildered and lost, propose to him to engage in religious worship, the
clouds would pass away, and he prayed as in his better days, and was thus
composed. As his illness increased, he ceased, for many weeks, even to visit the
sanctuary. On some Sabbaths, no minister was provided, yet the congregation
regularly assembled, when a printed sermon was read, and the devotional exercises
conducted by some of the lay members of the church. On one occasion, as they
were about commencing these exercises, the door opened, and the venerable pastor,
pale and feeble, entered as of old, with his note-book under his arm, and passed
up the aisle, gently bowing to the right and left as usual, and then slowly ascended
the pulpit. All were filled with wonder and anxiety, yet knew not what to
do. He commenced the devotional exercises as in his better days, and then
preached a well-prepared, solemn sermon, and reached the end of the service to
the joy of all present. But now the great mental change w^as seen. lie was
again commencing service, as if nothing had been done, when one of the deacons
kindly ascended the pulpit, expressed the gratittide that was felt in listening once
more to his voice, and suggested that he now retire home and rest, to which he
assented. His powers of body and mind continued to fail for a few months longer,
when the great change came and the mortal put on immortality. Though the
evening of his days was not favoured with the cheering sunlight, vouchsafed to
many, no one who knew his life, could doubt that he joyfully entered on the
worship of the upper sanctuary with enlarged powers and a cloudless vision.
I have now given you, my dear friend, an outline of my recollections of Dr.
Cathn. With no pretensions to any shining gifts, it will be seen that he was a
substantial , faithful, consistent minister of Christ. His example throughout all his
course was a salutary one, having little of evil influence to subtract from the
useful. Though his conversation often abounded with historical and biographical
anecdote, all was of the serious, edifying character. I can hardly recollect
more than one remark which called forth any thing bej'ond a smile. About the
year 1815, a distinguished clergyman of the Presbyterian church pubHshed a
work designed to reconcile two different schools of Theology on one of the important
doctrines of the Gospel. Dr. Catlin early procured a copy. It arrived at a time,
I remember, when 1 was present, and when the Kcv. Father Kinne,* author of a
laboured work on the prophecies, and a man of rare mental powers, was making
the Doctor a visit. As rumours had, for some time, been current as to the great-
ness of the work, there was no little eagerness on the part of these Divines to learn
what new light was about to burst upon them. They could scarcely Avait for
• Aaron Kinne was graduated at Yale College in 1765 ; was ordained at Groton in 1772 ; was
dismissed in 1796 ; removed to Ohio, but afterwards returned to New England, and died in 1824.
JACOB CATLIN. 265
tea, when I was summoned to read the new book aloud. I proceeded and read
for more than an hour to the most silent and attentive of listeners. A pause then
ensued. At length Dr. C. says, " \7ell. Father Kinne, what do you think.'"
"What do I think ? " says he, " why, I can't understand him." " I am glad to
hear it," replied Dr. C, " I began to think I was a fool, but if you can't under-
stand him, I have more hope of myself." An unusual laughter for his study
walls followed, but for which he was soon ready to apologize. Would that more
of his uniform, Cowper-loving gravity w-ere prevalent in tiie ministry of our times
and of all times. Most faithfully yours,
J. C. BRIGHAM.
MASE SHEPARD.=^
1786—1821.
Mase Shepard was a descendant, in the fourth generation, from
Thomas Shepard, who died in Milton, Mass., September 26, 1719, in the
eighty-seventh year of his age. His father was Thomas Shepard, a farmer,
and a man of excellent character, who resided at Norton. His mother,
whose maiden name was White, was from Taunton. He was born at Nor-
ton, May 28, 1759. He was the youngest of thirteen children, only two
of whom survived him. He lost his father at the age of fifteen.
Notwithstanding he had the advantages of a religious education, his
earlier years seem to have been marked by nothing that indicated any
personal interest in religion. It was not till the year 1780, when a general
attention to religion prevailed in the neighbourhood where he resided, that
his mind took a decided and earnest spiritual direction. The great purpose
of his life -now became changed, and his chief desire was that he might ren-
der the best service he could to the cause of his Redeemer. His thoughts
were directed towards the Gospel ministry ; but he was so deeply impressed
with his own insuihciency, in connection with the iacredness of the vocation,
that it was some time before he could make up his mind definitely, to set
himself to prepare for it. He, however, at length formed the determination,
and commenced his studies preparatory to a collegiate course under the
direction of the Rev. William Conantf of Lyme, N. H.
He entered Dartmouth College in 1781, and was admitted to the degree
of Bachelor of Arts in 1785. After leaving College, he studied Theology
under the direction of the Rev. Ephraim Judson of Taunton ; and shortly
after he was licensed to preach, he supplied the pulpit, for some time, to
great acceptance, in Goshen, Mass., where he was invited to settle in the
ministry. The state of his health, however, seeming to require a residence
near the saltwater, he declined this call, and went to preach at Little
Compton, R. I., where also, after a little time, he received a unanimous
calf to settle. This call he accepted; and on the 19th of September, 1787,
was duly set apart to the pastoral office.
* MS. from his family.
t William Conant was born in Bridgewater, Mass., about 1743; was graduated at Yale
College in 1770; was ordained pastor of the church at Lyme, N. H., December 22, 1773; and
died March 8, 1810, aged sixty-seven.
Vou. U. 34
266 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
On the 6th of July, 1788, not quite a year after his settlement, he was
married to Deborah, daughter uf Juhn and Hannah llaskius of Boston,
who survived him nearly twenty years, and died at Andierst, Mass., Feb-
ruary 11, 1841, at the age of seventy-five. They had nine children, all of
whom, with the exception of the two eldest, survived their father. Ralph
was graduated at Brown University in 1821, and died while he was in a
course of preparation for the ministry. Charles Upham was graduated at
Amherst College in 1824, where he has since occupied the place of Pro-
fessor of Chemistry. He holds a similar place also in the Medical College
of South Carolina. George Champlin is an Episcopal clergyman ; and has
been settled successively at Hebron, Conn., Stratford, Conn., and lloxbury,
Mass. Amherst College conferred upon him the degree of Master of Arts in
1833, and the degree of Doctor of Divinity in 1843.
Mr. Shepard had a vigorous constitution, and was abundant in labours
during his whole ministry. At three different periods, he saw religion
extensively and powerfully revived under his labours. The illness of which
he died confined him but a single Sabbath. From its commencement, he
was impressed with the conviction that it would have a fatal issue, but was
rendered strong to endure by his confidence in his Heavenly Father's pro-
mises. He knew in whom he had believed, and was persuaded that his
immortal interests were all safe in his Redeemer's hands. He died in
perfect calmness on the 14th of February, 1821, in the sixty-second year
of his age, and the thirty-fourth year of his ministry. A sermon was
preached at his funeral, by the Rev. Sylvester Holmes of New Bedford,
from John v. 35. " He was a burning and shining light." Mr. Holmes
was one of a considerable number, whose studies preparatory to the ministry
Mr. Shepard had directed.
FROM THE REV. RAT PALMER, D. D.
Albany, February 26, 1852.
My dear Sir: In requesting me to give you briefly my recollections of the Rev.
Mase Shepard, you have imposed on me a very agreeable task. lie was the loved
and honoured pastor of my early life; and although it is now more than thirty
years since he rested from his labours, yet my remembrance of his person, man-
ners, social qualities, and ministerial character, is in a high degree distinct and
vivid. As I sit down now deliberately to recall him as he was, and his image
rises before my mind, associated witli many of the happiest memories of child-
hood, it seems as if it were but yesterday that I saw his commanding form; and
the very tones of his voice, as heard both in famihar conversation and in the
pulpit, still linger in my ear. The impressions wliich his entire character and
ministry left upon myself, were not, as I have reason to know, at all peculiar;
and, in stating, as I will endeavour to do, accurately and without exaggeration,
what he aj)pears to me to have been, as a man, and as a minister of Christ, I
shall, 1 am persuaded, give a sufficiently correct idea of the impression which he
made very generally on all who Icncw him.
In his personal appearance, Mr. Shepard was imposing, and in his last years
venerable. He was about six feet in stature, well-proportioned, strongly built,
but not corpulent, — stood perfectly erect, and always moved with an air of easy
dignity. His head was rather large, but well developed in every part, and
rounded in its outline; the forehead naturally high, the effect of which was
increased by baldness; and the features of the face regular and pleasing, with a
light and fair complexion. The eyes were not large, but were animated and
MASE SHEPARD. 267
remarkably expressive of cheerfulness and good nature. His manners and
address were natural, and yet had an air of cultivation and refinement; and what
is by no means a common combination, — were dignified, and yet affable and win-
ning; so that no person of his own age and standing was likely to approach him
without respect, while no child but would be pleased with his kind looks and
gentle tones, and inspired with confidence by an undefinable something in his air.
In short, no observing person could have met him in a crowd, without marking
him as being what Carlyle would call " a very notable man."
My impression is quite decided that Mr. Shepard's intellectual gifts were natur-
ally of a high order; certainly much above the average in his profession. He
was, however, characterized rather by completeness and healthful proportion of
his powers, than by the remarkable prominence of any single one. His academic
and theological education were probably as good as those of the better class of
ministers of his day. Without any pretension to eminent scholarship, he was, as
1 believe, studious in his habits, and well read in Theology, and his views on the
subjects upon Avhich he spoke or wrote, were generally clear and well digested,
and such as indicated careful and deliberate thought. If not so profound as to
exhibit the very highest order of mind, they were never crude and hasty, nor
wanting in just discrimination. Although he was the friend of Dr. Hopkins, and
iiis associate in labours for the promotion of the cause of Christ, yet my impres-
sion is that he did not enter into all the peculiar theological views of that celebra-
ted Divine, but that he chose a less speculative, and what he regarded, a more
simply scriptural, mode of presenting the great system of Christian doctrine.
What particular method he pursued, however, with his theological pupils, of
whom he had a considerable number, in the course of his ministry, I have never
been informed.
Mr. Shepard's appearance in the pulpit was fine; combining ease with serious-
ness and dignity. His manner in preaching was affectionate and winning, yet,
at times, deeply impressive. The people over whom he was settled, being plain
in their tastes and habits, it was his aim to address them in a simple and unpre-
tending way; yet his matter was sure to be weighty, instructive, and evangelical.
He never, I believe, attempted to preach highly wrought and splendid discourses,
even on special occasions; most of his sermons, on the contrary, were delivered
from outlines, more or less general, and the filling up was, as to language,
extempore. There M'as altogether a directness and practical point about his ser-
mons, which, along with a certain tenderness of spirit, gave them a more than
ordinary power to engage the attention and touch the heart. Perhaps the best
evidence of this is found in the f\\ct that his own congregation was blessed with
repeated and delightful revivals of religion during his ministry, and that his
assistance was very often sought in such seasons by his brethren, and was
esteemed by them as singularly judicious and eflBcient. There was not a church
within aYeasonable distance of his field of labour, that did not love to hear his
voice, and the older members of which do not venerate his memory to this day.
He was cheerful and social in his natural disposition; and few ministers prob-
ably have ever found a more easy access to tlie families belonging to their charges,
or a more cordial welcome everywhere than he was accustomed to receive from
the members of his flock. I speak from a fresh recollection when I say that his
visits were both anticipated and remembered with great plea.sure. He had kind
words and looks for all, and enjoyed sometimes a humorous incident or a pleas-
ant anecdote. At the same time, he was always ready for spiritual conversation,
and delighted to find in any of his hearers a spirit of serious enquiry on the sub-
ject of religion.
In short, my dear Sir, it may be said that Mr. Shepard deserved to be ranked
high among the honoured and faithful ministers of the last generation. May the
examples of such, whicn you are about to spread before the Avorld, contribute, by
268 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
the Divine blessing, to raise up others who shall equal them in simplicity and
earnestness in the great work of preaching the Gospel, and shall be made even
more successful in winning souls to Christ.
With Christian regard, I am, very truly yours,
RAY PALMER.
ELIJAH PARISH, D. D.^
1787—1825.
Elijah Parish was born in Lebanon, Conn., November 7, 17G2. His
parentage was respectable; though the circumstances of his father's family
were such as to oblige him to depend chiefly on his own efforts in obtaining
a classical education. He was graduated at Dartmouth College in 1785.
Of the history of his early religious impressions little is known ; but he
seems, when he was quite young, to have made choice of the ministry for
his profession. He pursued his theological studies under the Rev. Ephraim
Judson of Taunton, Mass. On the 20th of December, 1787, he was settled
at Byfield, a parish of Newbury, Mass., as successor to the Rev. Moses
Parsons. Here he continued a diligent student, and a highly acceptable
minister, till his career was terminated by death.
In 1807, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from tlie
College at which he received his education.
Dr. Parish took a warm interest in the political concerns of the country.
He preached the annual Election sermon in 1810, in which he attacked with
great zeal and eloquence the policy of the national administration, and gave
such offence to the dominant party in the Legislature that they refused to
pay him the usual compliment of asking a copy for publication. The ser-
mon, however, was immediately published by subscription, and was widely
circulated and much talked about. A short time afterwards, he published
one or two Fast sermons in connection with the war of 1812, that partook,
in a high degree, of the same character, and were perhaps equally approved
by one party and reprobated by the other.
In his last sickness, he suffered severely, but exhibited great serenity
and patience. In days of health he had always manifested no inconsiderable
fear of death ; but in the immediate prospect of the event, he was abU'
humbly to say, "Not my will but thine be done," He died October 15,
1825, at the age of sixty-three, — greatly lamented by the people whom he
had so long served, as well as by numerous friends beyond the limits of his
own parish.
Dr. Parish was married to Mary, daughter of Deacon Joseph Hale, of
Byfield, in 179G. They had five children. One of them, Moses Parsons,
was graduated at Bowdoin College in 1822, and entered the legal profession,
but has withdrawn from it, and engaged in other business.
I had the pleasure of a slight acquaintance with Dr. Parish, having had
several interviews with him at his own house between the years 1812 and
1816. I remember him as a man of scarcely the middle stature, of a
• Memoir prefixed to his Sermons. — MS. from his family.
ELIJAH PARISH. 269
piercing eye, unusually fluent in speech and rapid in his motions. He pos-
sessed fine conversational powers, and always had pertinent thoughts and
words at command. His preaching (for I heard him preach more than
once) was earnest and impressive ; and there seemed to me a happy corres-
pondence between bis style of writing and manner of delivery. From my
recollection of bis sermons which I heard, as well as from a perusal of his
published sermons since, I should suppose he must have been an admirer of
the French, rather than of the English, school.
The following is a list of Dr. Parish's publications: — A Sermon at
the ordination of Ariel Parish,* 1792. A Discourse on the tenth
anniversary of his ordination, 1797. A Sermon on the death of the Rev.
John Cleaveland, Ipswich, 1799. An Oration on the Fourth of July, 1799.
An Oration on the Twenty-second of February, 1800. A Sermon preached
at Hanover, the Sabbath preceding the Commencement at Dartmouth Col-
lege, 1801. A Thanksgiving Discourse, 1804. A Sermon at the ordination
of Nathan Waldo, t 1806. A Sermon before the Massachusetts Missionary
Society, 1807. A Sermon at the ordination of David Thurston. Winthrop,
Me., 1807. A Sermon on the Annual Fast, 1808. A Sermon before the
Female Charitable Society of Newburyport, 1808. Massachusetts Election
kSermon, 1810. A Eulogy on Professor John HubbardI of Dartmouth
College, 1810. A Sermon at the ordination of Nathaniel Merrill, 's' 1811.
Protest against the war: A Fast Sermon, 1812. A Fast Sermon, 1814.
A Sermon before the Society for propagating the Gospel among the Indians
and others in North America, 1814. A Sermon at Ipswich, at the ordina-
tion of Daniel Smithll and Cyrus Kingsbury, as missionaries to the West,
1815. A Sermon at the ordination of Enoch Pilsbury,1[ 1815. A Sermon
delivered before the Convention of Congregational ministers in Massachu-
setts, 1821.
Dr. Parish published also, in connection with the Rev. Dr. Morse, a
Gazetteer of the Eastern and Western continents, 1802 ; a compendious
History of New England, 1809 ; a System of Modern Geography, 1810 ;
and, in connection with the Rev. David McClure, a Memoir of the Rev. Dr.
Eleazer Wheelock, First President of Dartmouth College, 1811. He
also published a Sacred Geography or Gazetteer of the Bible, in 1813.
* Ariel Parish was born in Lebanon, Conn., November 29, 1764; was graduated at Dart-
mouth College in 1788 ; was ordained pastor of the church in Manchester, Mass., April 4, 1792 ;
and died May 20, 1794, aged thirty.
t Nathan Waldo received the honorary degree of Master of Arts from Dartmouth College in
1803; was ordained pastor of the church in Williamstown, Vt., in 1806; and died in 1832.
X John Hubbard was bom in Townsend, Mass., August 8, 1759; was graduated at Dart-
mouth College in 1810; was, for several years, Principal of the Academy in New Ipswich,
N. H. ; was afterwards appointed Judge of Probate for the county of Cheshire ; was appointed
Professor of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy in Dartmouth College in 1804; and died
August 4, 1810. He published an Oration at Walpole, N. H., July 4, 1799; Rudiments of
Geography, 1803; American Keader (4th edition), 1808.
<; Nathaniel Merrill was born at Piowley, Mass., in 1782; was graduated at Dartmouth
College in 1809; was ordained pastor of the church in Lyndeborough, N. H., October 30, 1811 ;
and died in 1839.
II Daniel Smith was bom at Bennington, Vt., in 1789; was graduated at Middlebury Col-
lege in 1810; studied at the Andover Theological Seminary from 1810 to 1813; was engaged
with Samuel J. Mills in an exploring tour to the Southwest in 1814-15; laboured as a mission-
ary in Natchez from about 1816 till 1820; when he removed to Louisville, Ky., where he died
of a bilious fever in 1822. '"He was a man of cultivated mind and taste, of devoted piety,
and an excellent preacher."
V PiNOCH Pilsbury was bom at Byfield, Mass., in 1788; was not graduated at any College;
was ordained pastor of the church in Litchfield N. H., October 25, 1815 ; and died February 16,
1818, aged thirty.
270 TKINITAKIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
A posthumous volume of his Sermons on doctrinal and practical subjects
in connection with a brief Moinoir of his life, appeared in 182(3.
FROM THE KKV. LKONARD WITH 1 N(;T0N, D. D.
Nkwulhy, February 1, Ife.V,.
My dear Sir: You request of me some reminiscences of Dr. Parish. Though I
was liis neighbour for several years, and often met him in the social circle ami
our ministerial Association, yet you must be aware that a parishioner and .-i
hearer must have great advantages over a clerical neighbour, to see him in his daily
dress, and to hear his common exhibitions of him.self from the pulpit. 1 have
thouglit, therefore, that I could not better comply with your request than to pro-
cure the following account of him from one who was his constant hearer. I
believe the picture to be discriminating and just. Most of the lines I know to In-
true, particularly his strong hold of the veneration of his peoj)le. The sermons
1 heard bim preach were always elaborate; and I did not know his faculty in
extemporancou.s addresses until 1 read the following representation: but of this,
as you sec, one brought up under his ministry must be a better judge than
myself. The sketch i.s as follows :
" It is ni}- intention to speak of Dr. Parish only as he was known among th(
people of ids charge — as a pastor and a man. A generation has passed away
since he lived; but the recollection of his ministry is still held fast in the hearts
and minds of many, and there are still those educated under it, who are wont
to refer to him almost as a standard of ministerial qualihcation and lidelity.
" It is not claimed that the affection rendered him by his people was without
example, in those days or the present; but it is believed that the influence he
e.verted over them, in kind and in degree, was very rare even then, and the
tendencies of the times cannot surely have multiplied instances of it. For it
is in no respect an exaggeration to say that any opinion expressed in opposition
to their pastor, political, religious, or regarding measures of policy, would
have had little chance of finding favour among his people.
" He was familiar in every household of his congregation, and his visits were
always occasions of joy. Cliildren's eyes brightened with pleasure when they
saw him, and they were sure of Iiis affl-ctionate notice and loving word. Fathers
and motliers greeted him with a ready welcome, and yielded him their fullest
confidence. They consulted him on their worldly concerns, and did not fully
believe in their own plans till he had sanctioned them. Said a parishioner at
his death, ' I have lost ray best adviser in my business.' Another, an old man
of eighty years, exclaimed, ' His like for both worlds I never knew.' And both
old ami young, in their intercourse with him, accorded him that style of defer-
ence, indicated by the figurative as.sertion of Job, that in the days of his pros-
jicrity, princes refrained talking before him. A clergyman of Massachu-setts.
who in childhood was one of his congregation, said to the writer, ' I always felt
an inch or two taller, after Dr. Parish had spoken to me.' Yet, this respect,
so universally rendered, rested not at all on any visible superiority in exter-
nals. In all his habits Mhich came before their notice. Dr. Parish was undis-
tinguished from his people. No old chaise in the place was inferior to that in
which he generally drf>vc around his parish.
" In theory. Dr. Parish was a Tongregationalist. Perhaps, in more senses
than one, he might have been termed a high-church Congregationalist; for he
claimed it to be the true mode of (^hnrch government, while yet, in administering
this government, the congrciration seemeil to be most particularly guided by
that inspired direction given in Heli. xiii. 17. AV'cekly religious meetings were
sustained, but conducted wholly by the pastor. The congregation were inter-
ested in all the benevolent operations of the time, and the women, as now, did
ELIJAH PARISH. 271
their part, as they then understood it. 'Do j-ou call this a /e7HaZc society.''
inquired a lady, who had recently come into the place, — ' Dr. Parish the Presi-
dent, Dr. Parish to decide on the disposition of the funds, Dr. Parish to open
the meeting witli prayer .'" But the ladies, whose plan of operation was thus
questioned, were slow to be persuaded that there could be any Ijetter way, or
to be convinced that they had been conceding a right, instead of receiving an
advantage.
" Possibly Dr. Parish's agency as a pastor was more extended than it shonhl
have been. It may appear that his people too much gave up their thinking to
be done for them, and confided in their pastor's views unwisely. But the high
character for intelligence and piety which his church sustained during his minis-
try, would seem rather to indicate that their ready sympathy with his vicwei
was the natural result of his weight of character, in connection with the clearest
judgments and purest hearts. Certain it is that this state of things was l)rought
about by no imperious demand on his part that it should be so — that it never
could thus have been brought about. And if it was an undesirable and evil
condition, it was not a self-perpetuating one. It did not remain a grief and
burden to those who came after him.
" In Tlieology, Dr. Parish belonged to the party known in his day as
Ilopkinsian — then the straitest sect of the orthodo.x. But he held his high
orthodoxy in a most liberal and catholic spirit. Independent himself, he had
no wish to enthral others, and never made coincidence with his own views the
condition of his esteem. Consequently through life he had friends among those
who, in their thinking, had come to quite different results from his own, and
never wholly confined his ministerial intercourse to those who held his own
opinions. Nor did he think it necessary, in sustaining his own system of belief
either as a preacher, or with those whose education he conducted, to keep every
other system out of sight. He was willing to take the risk of permitting both
sides to be heard. But this course resulted from no indifference to the import-
ance of sound opinions, or disregard to the danger of an unscriptural creed.
" In an admonitory and familiar letter, he writes to his son on choosing a
place of residence : 'With all my candour and Catholicism, it extends no far-
ther than to be willing that others sliould seriously and devoutly, after patient
investigation, adopt such a creed as in their consciences they think most accord-
ing to the Word of (Jod. This does not lessen the danger of an unscriptural
creed, nor lower the importance of sound opinions. Will the man who thinks
liglitly of human depravity and of course of his own sins, be likely to repent,
to be broken-hearted, to abase himself.' Will the man who has slight notions
of the Divine anger against sin, and of the punishment of the wicked, flee
from the wrath to come .' Will he be concerned for his salvation .'' Will ho
give all diligence to make his calling and election sure ? Is it not, then, of vast
importance to hear sound preaching from Sabbath to Sabbath .' For myself, I
soberly and solemnly declare tliat, with all my fastidious taste for talents and
elocution, &c., which is very great, I would rather sit under the most ordinary
preacher, than attend a minister of wrong principles, possessing the most pro-
found genius and the most powerful eloquence. How then can I advise or con-
sent that you should settle at .'' This letter is dated February 17, 182f».
" Dr. Parish was not in the habit of writing out his sermons. A few notes
were made from which he could speak forty or fifty minutes. But such was
his facility in extemporizing that no one would have suspected the discourse
unwritten. The thought was present, and the right expression came as wanted.
No friend ever felt anxious for him as a public speaker. It was said by the
late Rev. .Joseph Emerson, who was his hearer for about three years, that lie was
the first preacher whom he ever heard, the extemporaneous portions of whose
discour.^e he could not distinguish from the written. Yet if he preached
272 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
unwritten sermons, he never preached unstudied ones. They were studied in
silent thought, often in tlie midst of his family, who instinctively avoided to
iuterrujit hiiu. The ideas of the sern\ou arranged in his mind, and partially
the language, the writing required was a very short process. His exercises
were always appropriate. He had no formula of prayer or exhortation. The
language of his prayer could never be anticipated, although it was often recol-
lected. His feelings were in all his performances, — hence they could not be
monotonous or mechanical.
■'Dr. Parish had great mental elasticity. Energy for any special labour
seemed to come spontaneously. And yet it was not just so. If he foresaw
that, in the course of the day, any great effort would be required, he kept him-
self from jjrevious exertion, — would not even engage in animated conversation,
but reserved his Avhole strength of body and mind for the anticipated service.
He once said that when he had most to do, he always had most leisure. The
explanation doubtless was, that in any unusual demand on his powers, the
increased mental tone he was able to secure, surpassed the necessity.
" Dr. Parish was a man of unvarjdng industry. Be covetous of time — was
a direction he often gave to the young, and the principle suggested, governed
his own actions. Before sleeping, his plan of occupation for the next day was
formed, so that no time was lost in deliberating on what he should do. Prompt
in all he had to do, nothing was deferred so as to necessitate hurry. At the
close of the week, he was never known to be anxiously seeking an exchange,
because he was unprepared to preach. His pulpit exchanges were not frequent.
He used to say that his sermons were prepared for his own people and unsuited
to another place.
" He was tenacious as well as ardent in his friendships. Those whom he
had once known and loved, he never forgot or thought of with indifference; and
if his decision and independence sometimes made him enemies, no man was
ever more truly and sincerely loved.
" Dr. Parish suflFered from ill health through his whole ministerial life. The
day seldom passed, in which he did not endure paroxysms of pain, which phy-
sicians could neither relieve nor account for.
" He was settled in the ministry with a large and strong opposition. But
eventually every member of it became his attached friend. He left an entirely
united people."
Hoping that the above may answer your purpose,
I am very truly yours,
LEONARD WITHINGTON.
ABEL FLINT. 273
ABEL FLINT, D. D *
1788—1825.
Abel Flint, the son of Jatues and Jemima (Jennings) Flint, was born
in Windham, Conn., in November, 1765. He was graduated at Yale Col-
lege in 1785 ; and the next year accepted a Tutorship in Brown University,
and held the office until 1790. Meanwhile he pursued the study of Theol-
ogy, and was licensed to preach ; and among other vacant parishes which he
temporarily supplied, was that in Worcester of which Mr. (afterwards Dr.)
Samuel Austin became the minister. About the time that he resigned his
Tutorship, he was invited to preach as a candidate to the Second church
and society in Hartford, Conn.; shortly after which, they called him with
great unanimity to become their pastor. He accepted the call, and was
ordained on the 20th of April, 1791, — the Rev. Dr. Enos Hitchcock of
Providence, preaching the sermon.
At the formation of the Connecticut Missionary Society in June, 1798,
Mr. Flint was appointed Secretary of the Board of Trustees, and he held
the office, by annual appointment, twenty-four years. In this office the
greater part of the business of the Society necessarily devolved on him,
including all the correspondence with the missionaries : and for eleven years
he performed this onerous labour without any pecuniary compensation. He
had also an Important agency in the establishment of the Connecticut Bible
Society in 1809, and had much to do in the management of its concerns for
many years. When the Connecticut Evangelical Magazine was established
in 1800, there were a number of editors appointed in different parts of the
vState, but the labour of conducting it devolved mainly upon Dr. Strong
and Mr. Flint, who performed it gratuitously for seven years. Of the Min-
isters' Annuity Society, — an institution for the benefit of the families of
deceased ministers, Mr. Flint may be said to have been the founder. About
the beginning of the century, the extensive prevalence of revivals suggested
the idea of compiling a selection of Hymns especially adapted to sueh a
state of things ; and Mr. Flint lent an important aid in preparing such a
work, which was published with the title of "The Hartford Selection of
Hymns," and has since passed through many editions. Mr. Flint had the
pleasure of witnessing several interesting revivals among his own people ;
particulaidy in the years 1799, 180G, and 1820. On these occasions he
laboured with great assiduity ; often preaching four or five times in the
week.
He was ln.iioured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Union Col-
lege in 181 b;.
Dr. Flint's health had been seriously affected for a number of years pre-
vious to his death. In June, 1822, he was thrown from a wagon with so
much violence as not only to occasion a severe shock to his frame, but also
to affect, in some degree, his intellect. From that period, he was inadequate
to the full discharge of his ministerial duties. His people occasionally
employed preachers to assist him, and they were desirous of settling a col-
league pastor ; but so fully was he convinced that the state of his health
• Hobbins' Fun. .^crai. — WS. from l.i.s family.
Vol. II. 35
274 TKIMTAIilAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ro(iuiroil a rcloasc from all iiiinistorial care, tliat be preferred that his pasto-
ral relation should be dissolved; aud, accordingly, by his own urgent reijuest,
he was dismissed by a council composed of several of the ueighbouring
ministers in January, I8li4, and recommended as a minister of Christ,
wherever he might be called to labour. It was an occasion of great joy to
him that, within a short time after he resigned his charge, his place was
supplied by one, whom he regarded with the utmost respect and confidencre.
He preached but a few times after his dismission. His health gradually
])ccame more cnfeel)led until the 7th of March, 1825, when he died, in the
sixtieth year of his age. His funeral sermon was preached by the Kev.
Thomas llobbins of East Windsor, and was published.
The following is a list of Dr. Flint's publications : — A Discourse on the
death of Washington, 1799. A Sermon at the ordination of Josiah B.
Andrews at Killingworth, 1802. A Sermon at the funeral of John
M'Curdy Strong, 1806. A Sermon on the death of Mrs. Mary Yates,
1800. A Sermon before the Hartford Female Beneficent Society, 1810.
A Treatise on Surveying. A Discourse occasioned by the news of Peace,
1815. xV Discourse at the ordination of Cornelius B. Everest, 1815. An
Election Sermon, 1816. A Sermon at the ordination of William B. Sprague,
1819. An Address before the Hartford Sunday School Society, 1819.
Dr. Fliut was married to Amelia, daughter of Col. llezekiah Bissell of
East Windsor, Conn. She died on the 19th of January, 1810. They had
four children, — three sons and one daughter. Two of the sons died in
infancy. The daughter, Amelia, was married to the Rev. Herman Norton,
in October, 1820. Mr. Norton was a native of New Hartford, N. Y.; was
graduated at Hamilton College in 1823 ; received his theological education
at Auburn ; was licensed to preach in 1825 ; and ordained as an evangelist
in 1826. For about four years he laboured in several diflferent States,
chiefly in connection with revivals of religion. In 1830, he became the
pastor of a church in New York, and retained his connection with it five
years. He then took charge of a church in Cincinnati, which, after two
years, he was obliged to leave on account of the failure of his health. On
his return to the Eastern States, he preached a year in Home, N. Y., and
four years in New Jersey and Pennsylvania. In 1843, he was chosen Sec-
retary of the American Protestant Society ; and when this Society, the
Christian Alliance, and the Foreign Evangelical Society, were united to
form the American and Foreign Christian Union, he was chosen one of the
('orrespunding Secretaries. In this ofl^ice he continued till his death, which
occurred, after a week's illness, on the 20th of Novend)er, 1850. He was a
man of great kindliness of spirit, an earnest Christian, and a devoted minister.
FROM THE HEV. DAMEL \\'ALDO.
GKnoKs, November 8, 1851.
My dear Sir: When I entered Yale College in the autumn of 1784, Dr. Flint
rommenccd his Senior year; and, shortly after that, my acquaintance with him
begun. He had the reputation of being a very rcspectal)le scholar, and in some
branches was a good deal distinguished. He was popular in College among his
fellow-students, and was also a favourite with President Stiles, partly, — it used
to be said, — because he was fond of the study of Hebrew. lie read French also
"with great facility, and afterwards became passionately fond of Massillon's and
Sauriu's Sermons in the original. I think he evinced also considerable taste for
ABEL FLINT.
zro
mathematics. At all events, ho devoted a good deal of attention to that branch
in subsequent life.
On my being settled at Suffield, I became a member of the same Association
with him, and, from that time, our intimacy never ceased, until his death termi-
nated it. He was in stature rather above the middle height, well-proportioned,
and had a face whose prominent characteristics were perhaps kindliness and
dignity. He had been educated in good society, and his manners were more
than commonly urbane and polished. You could not place him in any of the
walks of social life, — not even the highest, — where he would not be quite at
home. Possibly the dignity of his manners may have sometimes bordered a
little on formality; and yet there was nothing to prevent a feeling of perfect
freedom on the part of those with whom he associated. While he was rigid
in his observance of all the forms of social propriety, he was affable, and com-
municative, and free from all airs of hauteur and vanity. His people, I believe,
were generallj^ and strongly attached to him.
Dr. Flint ranked among the more popular preachers of New England. A
finer voice than his I have rarely heard from the pulpit. His sermons were
written in a chaste, neat style, by no means deficient in judicious and impor-
tant thought, and delivered with very considerable rhetorical skill. He was
acknowledged to be among the best readers of his time. His upj)earance in
the pulpit was, in every respect, impressive and commanding. He published a
considerable number of occasional sermons, one of the best of which is that on
the death of Washington, which indeed had a high place among the many ser-
mons that were called forth by that great occasion.
Dr. Flint was a man of delicate sensibilitj^ — not well adapted to the rougher
passages in human life. In this respect he was quite the opposite of his neigh-
bour. Dr. Strong; and I believe Dr. Strong's jokes were a sort of standing
terror to him. He evinced great respect for the feelings of others, and seemed
to expect, in return, what he so instinctively yielded.
He was well versed in the details of public business; and, owing to his pub-
lic and central situation, he was often put in requisition for that kind of service.
His promptness and fidelity, on all such occasions, were worthy of all praise.
I am sincerely yours,
DANIEL WALDO.
JONATHAN STRONG, D. D.*
1788—1814.
Jonathan Strong, son of Jonathan Stronc, was born at Bolton, Conn.,
September 4, 1764, His father removed with his family from Bolton to
Orford, N. H., in June, 1772 ; and was one of the early settlers and a
leading man of that place, and for many years a deacon of the church. He
died September 17, 1807, in the eighty-third year of his age. The son
entered Dartmouth College in 1782, and graduated with an excellent repu-
tation as a scholar in 1786. Immediately after liis graduation, he spent a few
months in teaching a school at Kittcry, Me.; and then went to reside with the
Ilev. Ephraim Judson at Taunton, with a view to prosecute his theological
studies. In due time he was licensed to preach ; and shortly after preached
•Panoplist, XII. — Amer. Quart. Reg., XII.
276 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
for three niontlis at Attleborough, Mass., where he received a unanimoua
call to settle in the ministry, — which, however, he thought it his <luty to
decline. On the 28th of JaTiiuiry, 178'J, he was settled, as coUeagu*
pastor with the l\ev. Moses Tal"t,* over the church in Randolph, jMass. Here
he continued to labour during the rest of his life, lie died after an illncsa
of ten days, on the 9th of November, 1814, in the fifty-first year of his
age. The violence of his disease soon aff"ected his mental powers, and
though he had lucid intervals, during which he expressed his resignation to
the Divine will, it was to his life rather than his death tliat his friends had
to look for consolation.
He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Brown
University a few months before his death.
Three extensive revivals of religion occurred under Dr. Strong's minis-
trv, the result of which was an addition to his church of upwards of two
hundred members. He took a deep interest in the cause of Missions, and
was one of the founders and trustees of the Massachusetts Missionary
Society, and one of the editors of the Massachusetts Missionary Magazine.
The following is a list of his publications : — A Sermon on the Annual
Thanksgiving, 1795. A Sermon at the ordination of Levi White,! 1798.
A Sermon at Plymouth, on the landing of our Fathers, 1803. A Discourse
at Bridgewater at the funeral of Dr. Ziba Bass, 1804. A Sermon before
the Massachusetts Missionary Society, 1808. An Oration on the Fourth of
July, 1810. A Sermon at the dedication of a meeting-house in Abington,
181o. He contributed liberally to several periodicals, especially the Pano-
plist.
He was married, November 3, 1790, to Joanna, daughter of Deacon
Thomas Odiorne of Exeter, N. H. They had nine children, — of whom one
son, George Odiorne, was graduated at Brown University in 1814, and one
daughter, Joanna, became the wife of the llev. William Cogswell, D. D.
FROM THE REV. RICHARD S. STORRS, D. D.
Brainteee, November 19, 1849.
My dear Sir: In reply to your kind note, permit me to say that my know-
ledge of Dr. Strong was limited to the term of three or four j'ears; and that,
duriniT that time, it was not otherwise intimate than the ordinary acquaintance
of young men with their seniors in contiguous parishes may be expected to ho.
He was fifty and 1 was twenty-five. lie kindly treated me as a child, and 1
lovofl liim as a fatlier; hut [ had too much reverence for age, and too slight an
accjuaintancc with the world at large, to form a judgment of his character
worthy of much confidence.
He was a generous-hearted, whole-souled man — one of "Nature's noble-
men,"— " Strong by nature and Strong; hy name," as my predecessor used to
say of him. He pos.«;csscd talents of a liigh order, hut he could hardly be sai<l
to be a student; for necessity drove him to cultivate his farm in the summer,
and to train up schoolmasters or fit boj-s for College in the winter. After his
Jiiblc, he had Henry's Commentary, and Hopkins' System, and Smalley's
Sermons, and Edwards' Works in part, and .some other books — quite enough
for a man Avhose scanty salary compelled him to labour with his hands a large
•Moses Taft was a native of j'Mendon, Ma-i^s. ; was graduated at Harvard College in IT.'il ;
was ordained pastor of the church in Randolph, August 26, 1762; and died November 12,
1791.
t Lkvi White was graduated at Dartmouth College in 1795 "was ordained pastor of the
church in Pandisfield, Mass., in .Tune, 1798; was dismissed in 18T?2; and died in 1836.
JONATHAN STRONG. 277
part of the week to supply his family with daily bread and a suitable educa-
tion. But he could neither read them nor digest them by any intellectual
process, not forever obstructed by the more involuntary processes of the
meaner part of the man.
He had remarkable talents as a preacher, though it is not to be dissembled
that his straitened worldly circumstances abated somewhat in this respect
from both his reputation and his usefulness. The commonly received ortho-
dox}'- of New England he adopted from thorough examination, and held with
unwavering confidence; and this gave the tone to all his preaching. He had a
clear, full, and lion-like voice, a portly frame, a dignified and solemn manner;
and his whole exterior was fitted to make a powerful impression. There was
great fervour and unction in his delivery; and his audience felt, especially in
seasons of revival, that he was pouring out upon them his inmost soul. His
discourses were plain, forcible, and sometimes highly argumentative. He
sought out acceptable words, but disdained the eloquence that captivates the
imagination and leaves the heart unaffected.
Dr. Strong was greatly beloved by his people, and respected and honoured
by his brethren in the ministrj^ Had Providence cast his lot in circumstances
more favourable to intellectual culture and development, he would have left a
mark that would not have been easily obliterated.
Most respectfully and affectionately yours in the Gospel,
R. S. STORRS.
WALTER HARRIS, D. D *
1789—1843.
FROM THE REV. ZEDEKIAH S. BARSTOW, D. D.
Keene, N. H., August 21, 1849.
Rev. and dear Sir : I am not sure that I can give you a sketch of the
Rev, Dr. Harris that will be worthy of a place in your proposed work ;
but I have no hesitation in affirming that he is worthy of a place in any
work that is designed to transmit to posterity the names and characters of the
more distinguished of the American clergy.
My acquaintance with Dr. Harris commenced many years since, at an
ecclesiastical council convened to adjudicate a case of great diflficulty and
delicacy. I was particularly struck with the shrewdness, tact, and penetra-
tion with which he discovered the merits of the whole controversy, with the
dignified decision and fidelity which he evinced in putting down the wicked,
however exalted in society, and with a something in liis demeanour that
made the equivocal witness cower before him.
And in all subsequent meetings with him, my admiration of his character
was continually enhanced. One of the best opportunities which I enjoyed
for intercourse with him, was at Saratoga Springs, whither he had gone for
the benefit of his health. In some of our interviews there, he opened his
heart to nie with the utmost freedom ; and his whole conversation and
demeanour evinced that he was expecting a speedy exchange of worlds. Said
he, as nearly as I can now remember, — " I told my people the last Sabbath
• Burnham's Fun. Serm.
278 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
that T luul done ; that I liad cared for thoin fnr more than forty years, with*
out leaving them unsupplied for many 8ab}>aths, and that now they must
take care of tliemselvcs ; that I hujicd they would hold fast the doctrines
which I preaclied, for I verily lielieved they were the truth of God, and I
would willingly risk my own soul upon them. The people were somewhat
affected, and I too was affected with the thought that I must n)eet them at
the b;;r of God. I warned them*to meet me as the disciples of Christ, that
I might not be a swift witness against them."
I was struck in those days with his deep humility and unwavering confi-
dence in God, with his comprehensive views of the Christian system, and
the facility with which he could put to silence the ignorance of foolish men.
It was delightful to listen to a man apparently hastening to his last account,
who had such perfect conviction of the truth which he had so long preached,
and who dwelt upon the great peculiarities of the remedial system with such
depth and puwer of argument, and such richness and clearness of illustra-
tion. I could not but feel that he was indeed a master in Israel, and that
it was good to sit at his feet and listen to his instructions.
Dr. Harris recovered, in some degree, his health, after the period above
referred to ; but he did not resume the labours of the ministry in his parish, —
a successor having been installed during his illness.
But your request extends as well to the leading facts of Dr. Harris' life,
as to my recollection of incidents illustrative of Ids character. The follow-
ing outline perhaps will include the substance of what you wish for.
He was a native of Lebanon, Conn., and was born in 1761. — the youngest
of five children of Nathaniel and Grace Harris. His only brother fell in
battle, a sacrifice to his country's independence. He also served thi'ce years
in the war of the Kevolution, and received an honourable discharge in May,
1780, when a little less than nineteen years of age.
After he left the army, Mr. Harris went to Lebanon, New Hampshire,
and purchased a piece of land, with the intention of devoting himself to
farming. There, amidst a powerful revival of religion, his mind became
awakened to a deep sense of his immortal interests, and the all-engrossing
iiKjuiry with him was, what ho shuuld do to be saved. In due time he
emerged from darkness into liglit, and was thought to give evidence of a
sound and thorough conversion. In the judgment of many of his friends,
he possessed talents which peculiarly fitted him for the Christian ministry ;
and, at their suggestion, he began to meditate the purpose of acquiring a
liberal education witli a view of devoting himself to it. The result of much
.serious ddiboration and earnest prayer on the subject was a full conviction,
on his part, that the indications of Providence were in favour of his study-
ing with reference to the sacreil office. Accordingly, having gone through
his preparatory studies, chiefly at Moor's school, at Hanover, he entered
Dartmouth College in September, 1783 ; and, during his whole collegiate
course, he was distinguished as a sound sehular and an exemplary and
devout Christian.
The venerable Dr. Dana of Newburyjiort, who was somewhat acquainted
with Mr. Harris in College, says of him, — " He had a mind of uncommon
strength, — unusually patient of labour. His literary acquisitions were
decidedly above the ordinary ; but he was most distinguished in the solid
and useful branches of study. The part assigned him at commencement
testified that he had made respectable proficiency in the Hebrew language."
WALTER HARRIS. 279
After he was graduated, he engaged six months in teaching a classical
school at Boscawen ; during which time he fell in with one of Dr. Emmons'
sermons, and was so much delighted with it that he determined, if possible,
to prosecute his theological studies under his direction. This purpose he
was enabled to fulhl ; and, after being licensed to preacli, he returned to
New Hampshire, and very soon received a call to settle at Duubarton. He
accepted the call, only, however, on condition that, before assuming his pas-
toral charge, he should be permitted to pursue his studies under Dr. Emmons
for an additional three months. He did so ; and, at the expiration of the
time, returned to Dunbarton, and was ordained as pastor of a church then
recently gathered, on the 2Gth of August, 1789.
In the early part of his ministry, he fitted many young men for College, —
a service for which his very thorough scholarship abundantly qualified him.
He had an accurate knowledge of the Classics ; but he was still better
versed in the Mathematics and Natural Philosophy ; while his greatest
delight, and most profound acquisitions, were in Metaphysics and Thcolog}'.
The young man who pursued their studies, especially the study of Theology,
under him, not only regarded him with veneration as a man, but formed the
highest estimate of his qualifications as an iustructer.
He was first married to Jemima Fisher of Franklin, Mass., September 22,
1789 ; who, after having lived with him nearly twenty years, and become
the mother of seven children, died March 12, 1815. He afterwards
(December 27, 1815) married the widow of the Rev. John Cleaveland of
AV'^reutham, Mass., who died on the 20th of January, 1830. On the 11th
of April, 1831, he was married to the widow of James Aikiu of Goflfstown,
N. H., with whom he lived to the close of life.
He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Dartmouth
College in 182(3.
i'he death of Dr. Harris took place December 25, 18-43, at the advanced
age of eighty-two. The Association with which he was connected took a
most respectful and suitable notice of the event, and appointed one of their
number to deliver a discourse "commemorative of his eminent gifts and
graces, his labours and usefulness." The Kev. A. Burnham of Pembroke
fulfilled the appointment, and his discourse was afterwards published.
Dr. Harris was of middle stature, of robust frame, of penetrating eye, of
rather dark complexion, and of features strong as iron. His whole appear-
ance indicated great vigour of intellect, and strength of feeling, and general
transparency of character. I recollect a circumstance that occurred in
connection with a meeting of one of our ecclesiastical bodies, that strikingly
illustrated both his simplicity and independence. The question of slavery
had been before the body for some time, and had exerted an agitating,
almost a convulsive, influence. Dr. Harris stood forth a vigorous and
earnest opposer of the whole system. At a moment when every thing
seemed to indicate a violent collision, one of the members who did not rank
with the party, — certainly not with the extreme party, technically called
abolitionists, arose and asked leave to read a paper which he liad prepared,
in the hope that it might beget a spirit of mutual conciliation. The moment
the reading of it was finished. Dr. Harris was upon his feet, and said, with
great emphasis, to the individual by whom the paper had been prepared, —
"Give me your hand. — that is all the abolitionism that I want;" and he
280 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Bcemed to breathe his spirit over the whole assembly ; fur from that time the
controversy ceased.
As a preacher, Dr. Harris may be said to have bceu mighty in the
Scriptures. He uttered himself with a deep solemnity, that showed that
he never lost sight of his own final account. He chose out acceptable
words, but they were charged with an energy which it was not easy to resist.
i once heard one of his hearers say, — "Every sermon of his is a broad axe,
cutting away every refuge of lies, and laying prostrate every thing that
1'S.alteth itself against the knowledge of (Jod."
Says Dr. Dana, before quoted, "As a preacher. Dr. Harris was esteemed
among the first in New Hampshire. As a pastor, he was affectionate and
beloved. The excellence of his character gave him influence with the
churches around him. In a word, he was one of those good men upon whom
memory loves to dwell. Nor do I think that I can form a better wish for
New Hampshire, than that she may be blessed with many ministers pos-
sessing the piety, the simplicity, the energy, and the devotion, of Dr.
Harris.
The following is a list of his published works: — A Fast Sermon, 1799.
A Sermon preached at the ordination of Abraham Burnham at Pembroke,
1808. A Sermon on occasion of the death of the wife of the ilev. Abraham
Burnham, 1808. A Sermon at the installation of the Rev. Stephen Chapin,
at Mount Vernon, 1809. A Sermon on the death of Deacon Samuel Burn-
ham of Dunbarton, 1811. The substance of Two Discourses, entitled
"Characteristics of false teachers," 1811. A Thanksgiving Sermon, 1812.
A Discourse before the Female Cent Society in Bedford, N. H., 1814. A
Sermon at Heading, (West parish,) 1814. A Discourse at East Londonderry
before a Convention to promote the sanctification of the Sabbath, 1814. A
Discourse at the interment of the (third) wife of the llcv. Abraham Buru-
hatn, 1815. A Sermon at the ordination of Enoch Corser, at Loudon, 1817.
A Discourse at Ilopkinton, N. 11., at the festival of John the Baptist,
before two Lodges of Freemasons, 1823. A Sermon at Golfstown at the
interment of Mrs. Jane Morrill, 1823. An Address before the Pastoral
Convention of New Hampshire, 1834,
Yours very affectionately,
Z. S. BARSTUW.
AZEL BACKUS. 281
AZEL BACKUS, D. D^
1789—1817.
AzEL Backus was born in the town of Norwich, (the part that is now
Franklin,) Conn., October 13, 1765. He was the son of Jabez and
Deborah Backus, both of whom were persons of great worth, and members,
it is believed, of the Congregational church. When he was only five years
old, he lost his father ; in consequence of which, the conduct of his educa-
tion devolved, for several years, entirely upon his mother ; and notwith-
standing all the restraints that a pious mother's counsels and efforts could
impose, he came early under a decidedly irreligious influence, and while he
was yet a mere stripling, had become an open infidel.
At the age of seventeen, he went, carrying with him his licentious opin-
ions, to reside with his uncle, the Eev. Charles Backus, a distinguished
Congregational minister at Somers, Conn. Under his instruction he was
fitted to enter College. His uncle, being aware of his sceptical tendencies,
set himself, at an early period, to endeavour to counteract them; and,
having succeeded in securing his good will and affection, he persuaded him
to examine for himself the evidences of the Divine authority of the Scrip-
tures. The venerable teacher being always at hand to meet the objections,
and explain the diihculties, which occurred to him, his mind gradually
yielded to the evidence, as it presented itself, until at length he became
firmly settled in his conviction of the truth of Christianity. Nor was this
all. He became deeply impressed by the truths to which he yielded his
assent; and, after a season of intense anxiety, bordering well nigh upon
despair, he found the joy and peace in believing.
He entered Yale College in 1783 ; and, having maintained a high rank
for scholarship throughout his whole course, was graduated in 1787. At
this period, he was not a little perplexed in regard to the choice of a pro-
fession ; for, though his religious feelings inclined him to the ministry, he
was apprehensive that his natural buoyancy of spirits would so materially
interfere with his usefulness in that relation, as to render it improper for
him to assume it. After having been, for some time, harassed with grievous
doubts in respect to his duty, he, finally, in a state of mind approaching
near to desperation, resolved to abandon all literary pursuits and enter the
army. The very night preceding the day on which he was to sail for a
Southern port, where he expected to serve, his venerable and beloved uncle
from Somers arrived at New Haven, and succeeded before morning in effect-
ually changing his purpose, and inducing the resolution that he would devote
his life to the work of the ministry. This discreet and benevolent effort of
his uncle, and this merciful interposition of Providence, were always among
the subjects of his most grateful recollections.
Shortly after he left College, he took charge of a Grammar school at
Wethersfield, where, by his excellent classical attainments, his exemplary
fidelity, and his frank and generous treatment of his pupils, he soon gained
a high reputation as a teacher. Subsequently to this, he prosecuted his
• Memoir prefixed to a volume of hia Sermons. — MS. from Dr. F. F. Backus.
Vol. n. 36
282 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
theological stiulics under the direction of liis uncdo ; and sonic time in tl.e
year 17^1.), was lieeused to preacli l>y the A.ssufiatioii of Tolhind county.
Innuediatcly after hia licensure, he jireadied several Salihaths (not as a
candidate fur settlement) at Kllin;iton, a few miles from the residence of his
uncle, and then accepted an invitation to supply the pulj)it in Bethlem,
recently vacated by the deatli of l)r. IJellaniy. It was no light matter for
a young man to succeed a person of such distinguished reputation and
iutiuence ; but his labours proved at once highly acceptable to the congre-
gation, and in due time they gave him a call to liecome their pastor. Tliis
call he accepted, and the pastoral relation was constituted )»y tho usual
solemnities, April G, 1791, — the llev. Dr. Backus of Some.rs preaching on
the occasion, from John iv. 30. The sermon was published.
In 1798, Mr. Backus was appointed by the first Governor Oliver Wol-
cott to preach the Annual Election Sermon before the Legislature of Con-
necticut, lie fulfilled the appointment in perhaps the very happiest of all
his public efi"orts. The political bearings of tho discourse were indeed very
decided, and in that respect it found little favour with one of the great
political parties of the day ; but, in respect to the ingenuity and fertility
of invention which it evinced, it is believed there was little difi"erence, of
opinion. It is said to have attracted much attention, and to have been
printed at least twice, in Great Britain.
In June, 1808, he was chosen Moderator of the General Association of
Connecticut, which then had its session at New London. The house in
which the body was convened, was rendered peculiarly interesting from sev-
eral different classes of associations. It stood on a spot where there had
formerly been a fort that was captured by the Indians. To that fort had
succeeded a church in which Governor Saltonstall ministered for some years
previous to his embarking in political life. And that church, the immedi-
ate predecessor of the one then standing, had been burnt by the infamous
Arnold during the Revolution. On one occasion, during the session of the
Association, Dr. Backus, after they had sung an animated hymn, led in
prayer; and, availing himself of the various affecting associations connected
with the history of the jdace, he poured out his soul in strains of such
sublime fervour and such melting tenderness, that the whole audience were
quite overwhelmed. He excelled especially in the pertinent and the
pathetic ; and the occasion referred to was a striking illustration of both.
In 1810, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from
the College of New Jersey.
Shortly after his settlement at Bethlem, he opened a select school with
special reference to preparing young men for admission to College ; and he
continued it till he removed from the State. Tliis school was much and
deservedly celebrated ; and there are still living not a few leading men, in
both Church and State, who connect with the instructions and impressions
which they gathered there, much of their respectability and usefulness in
subsecjuent life.
In September, 1812, Dr. Backus was elected first President of Hamilton
College. The question presented to him by this appointment was one of
great difficulty, and, for a considerable time, it held his mind in anxious and
painful suspense. His attachment not only to the people of his charge, but
to the in:rftitutions and the very soil of his native State, was too strong not
to render the thought of a separation extremely unwelcome ; but, after due
J
AZEL BACKUS. 283
reflection and consultation on the subject, he became satisfied that the indi-
cations of Providence were in favour of his accepting tlie appointment.
He did accept it ; and liis induction to his new office took place on the 3d
of December following.
His long experience in the instruction and management of youth was no
doubt greatly auxiliary to his success in this somewhat similar but more
extensive field. The infant College, from the beginning, prospered under
his wi.se and parental supervision ; while his popular talents and benevolent
and generous dispositions rendered him a general favourite in the commu-
nity. ]^ut while ho was yet in the full vigour of his powers and at the
meridian of his usefulness, his course was suddenly terminated by death.
In December, 1817, he took the typhus fever from one of the Tutors over
whom he had watched with most affectionate solicitude. Shortly after his
illness commenced, one of his brethren called upon him, and, by his request,
engaged in prayer at his bedside; and, during the prayer, his reason left
him to return no more. In his wildest delirium, however, his thoughts
evidently fastened upon spiritual interests and objects, thus showing what
had been their habitual tendency. He expired, after an illness of a few
days, on the 9th of December, in the fifty-third year of his age. His funeral
sermon was preached by the llev. Dr. Norton, minister of the Congrega-
tional church at Clinton.
He was married in February, 1791, to Melicent Demniing of Wethcrs-
licld, a lady of great intelligence and excellence, who died in October,
1853, at the age of nearly eighty-eight years. They had eight children,
five of whom survived him. One of them. Dr. F. F, Backus, was gradu-
ated at Yale College in 1813 ; has been for many years a practising physi-
cian at Rochester, and was at one time a member of the Senate of the State
of New York.
The following is a list of Dr. Backus' acknowledged pul)lications : — A
Sermon at the funeral of Governor Oliver AVolcott, 1797, Connecticut
Election Sermon, 1798, A Sermon on occasion of his inauguration as Pre-
sident of Hamilton College, 1812, A Sermon at the ordination of John
Frost,*" 1813, A Sermon at the ordination of John B. Whittlesey,! 1814.
Dr. Backus was a liberal cuutributor to the Connecticut Evangelical Maga-
zine.
FROM THE REV. BENNETT TYLER, D. D.,
PaOFE-SSOR IN TUE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY AT EAST WINDSOR.
East Windsor Hill, January 14, 1848.
Dear Sir: Your request for my recollections and impressions of the late Dr.
Azel Backus, it {^ivcs nic pleasure to comply with, to the extent of my aliility
When I was first settlcfl in (lie ministry, niy residence was fifteen or sixteen
• John Frost was a native of Pnndgatc, Vt. ; wn.i graduated at Middlebury College in 1806 ;
was Preceptor of the Addison ("ounty tJriimiuar School in 1S()7-0S; stndieii Thcolcigy at the
Andover .Seminary ; was ordained and installed jiastur of the l'reshvtcri;in cliiirch in Wbiteg-
botough, N. Y., In ]Si:{, and went thence to Klniira, wliere he was installed in IS.T.i. After
remaining there a few j-cars, he returned to Whitesborough, and jireaclied to the vacant
churches in the vicinity, as he had opportunity. He died suddenly at Watcrville, N. Y,,
March 1, 1842,
t .ToHN Bai.tiwin Whittlesky, son of .Joseph and Lydia (.Jones) Wbittlesey. was horn at
Saybrook, Conn., November 26, 17S2; was gradnated at Williams Ccillrge in ISld; was
ordained pastor of the church in Herkimer, N. V., March lii, 1814; was afterwards settled in
the ministry at York, N. Y., and died Sejitember 10, 1S33,
284 TllliNiTARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
miles from his. As we belonged to the same ministerial Association, I saw him
ropeiitudly at the meetings of that body and of the Consociation, was occasion-
ally at his house, and heard liini preach three or four times. I also had oppor-
tunity to know the estimation in which he was lield by his brethren of his own
age, who were more intimately acquaiutod with liim than myself.
Dr. Backus was a man sui generis, lie had great excellencies of character
and some prominent defects.
llis natural endowments were of a high order. This, I believe, was doubted
by no one who was at all acquainted with him, or who ever heard him preach
Oil a special occasion. The late Dr. Mason of New York, after having made a
visit to New England, said to some one, (alluding to Dr. Backus,) " I found one
man who has a bushel of brains." Had Dr. ii. made the same remark in
regard to Dr. M., it would have been in perfect keeping with the manner in
which he was in the habit of expressing his thoughts. He possessed a clear,
strong, and discriminating intellect, and might have attained to eminence as a
scientilic and literary man, or in any one of the learned professions. IJut his
attention was principally directed to the studies connected with liis own pro-
fession. His mind, however, was well stored with general knowledge.
He possessed a vivid and powerful imagination; but it was not sufficiently
chastened. Hence, though his illustrations were always striking and forcible,
they were sometimes deficient on the score of taste. This fault was not so
apparent in his writings, especially his well-studied compositions, as in his
extemporaneous addresses and familiar conversations. He possessed one talent
which is rather dangerous, especially to a minister of the Gospel. He had an
exuberance of the keenest wit, and his witticisms were sometimes of at least
questionable propriety. He occasionally indulged in ludicrous comparisons
and extravagant expressions, which could not bo justified. This was the most
prominent defect in his character, — a defect which he often deeply lamented.
Few men were better acquainted with human nature than he, or had a keener
discernment of character; and, although he was sometimes indiscreet in his
language, he possessed a large share of common sense.
He had a higli reputation as a teacher of youth, particularly as a disciplina-
rian. As a natural consequence, many vicious boys, who had been considered
unmanageable, were placed under his care. Not a few of them were reclaimed
by his faithful discipline and became useful men. In after life, they acknow-
ledged their obligations to him, as the instrument in the hand of God of saving
them from ruin. He often spoke of these acknowledgments with peculiar
satisfaction.
Dr. Backus' theological views accorded substantially with those of his illus-
trious predecessor, — Dr. Bellamy, and with those of his uncle, — Dr. Charles
Backus of Somers, who was his theological instructor, and one of the burning
and shining lights of his day. He was a warm advocate for the " doctrines of
grace," as they were generally maintained by New England Calvinists fifty
years ago.
An incident occurred soon after his settlement in Bethlem, which he often
mentioned with deep interest. As he was riding one evening, he overtook a
coloured man who was a member of his church. He entered into conversation
with him, and perceiving that he was not known bj' the coloured man, on
account of the darkness of the evening, asked him how he liked his new minis-
ter. " Pretty well," he replied, " but not so well as I did Massa Bellamy."
" Why, what is the difference .''" " He no make God look so big as Massa Bel-
lamy did." He ever after r<'garded this as a very useful lesson to him.
As a preacher, Dr. Backus had a very high reputation. His style was simple,
dear, concise, and remarkably energetic. His sermons abounded in striking
thoughts, expressed in few words, which would sometimes burst upon the
J
I
AZEL BACKUS. 285
hearer, like sudden flashes of lightning. As much of his time was taken up
with his school, his ordinary sermons were prepared in haste, and many of
them but partially written. But when he made a special effort, and allowed
himself sufficient time to prepare a discourse, it was usually of a very high
order, ilis Election Sermon excited more interest probably than almost any
other sermon preached on a similar occasion. The subject of it is the charac-
ter of Absalom. It contains a most graphic description of a demagogue, and a
clear exhibition of the dangers to which free governments are exposed. It is
rich in historical allusions, and abounds in thoughts of great practical wisdom;
iind some parts of it arc highly eloquent.
His manner and style of speaking in the pulpit were his own; — unlike those
of any other man. He made no display, and had none of what v.ould be called
the graces of oratory. Yet few men have had greater command over an audi-
ence than he. He never failed to secure attention, and not unfrequently the
whole congregation were melted into tears. He always felt deeply the truths
which he uttered, and literally adopted the maxim of the Roman poet: —
"Si vis me flere, dolendum est tibi."
He rarely, if ever, delivered a sermon without weeping. He could take his
hearers to record that he had warned them night and day with tears.
His eloquence, though peculiar, was natural. It more nearly resembled the
eloquence of the natives of the forest, than that of any other man with whom
1 was ever acquainted. And here 1 cannot forbear to mention that, soon after
he became President of Hamilton College, he made a visit to the Oneida Indi-
ans, who were then living on their Reservation near the College, and preached
to them on the Sabbath, to their great delight. He began his discourse thus : —
" I was born near Moheagan. I was acquainted with Zachary and Uncas; and
my object to-day will be to persuade you to be Zacharies and not Uncases."
It was at this visit that the aged chief, Shenandoah made Dr. Backus promise
to see him buried by the side of the missionary, Kirkland, that he might " take
hold of his skirts in the resurrection."
As a jmstor, Dr. Backus was greatly beloved. He sympathized with his
people in their joys and sorrows, and always felt a deep interest in their wel-
fare. When he was called to leave them for another field of labour, the parting
was mutually painful.
He was a warm friend to his country. He took more interest in the political
aflairs of the nation than most of his brethren. He entered largely into the
views of those patriotic men, who were the leaders in the American Revolution,
and afterwards the founders of our government. He was fully aware of the
dangers to which free governments are exposed. These are strikingly portra3'cd
in his Election Sermon. He fully believed that virtue as well as intelligence
among the people, is necessary to tlie maintenance of such a government as ours.
When he saw infidelity, irreligion, and profligacy coming in like a flood, he
trembled for his country. He did not deem it unsuitable to preach on the
duties of rulers as well as of subjects, and to point out the means of securing
the blessings of a good government.
AVheu Mr. Jefferson was elected President of the United States, many good
men were exceedingly distressed and alarmed. The thought of having a Chief
Magistrate who was understood to be an unbeliever, was extremelj- painful. Dr.
Backus participated in these feelings, and did not hesitate to express them in the
pulpit. On this account he was prosecuted for a libel against Mr. Jefferson, and
arraigned before the District Court of the United States. The cause, however, after
having been repeatedly postponed, was finally dismis.sed, without coming to trial.
This prosecution excited great interest in (Connecticut. Some of the most dis-
tinguished lawyers proffered their services to Dr. Backus, and numerous friends
stood ready to defray all the expense to which he might be subjected.
2SG TRINITAKIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Theru wore some incidents connected with tliis prosecution, which afforded
much amusement to his friends. When he was first summoned to appear before
the Court, which was then sitting in Hartford, the Marshal called on him very
early in the morning, and informed him that it would be necessary that he should
1)6 in Hartford by twelve o'clock. He immediately prepared for the journey, and
in company with the Marshal, rode to Litchfield, about eight miles, before break-
fast. While there, the Hon. Uriel Holmes, then member of Congress, furnished
him with his own horse and carriage, — his horse being a remarkably fleet and
{)0werfiil animal. On starting for Hartford, the Marshal, being on horseback,
found it necessary to put spurs to his steed, to keep in sight of his prisoner.
Coming near enough to call to him, he exclaimed, — "Mr. Backus, you ride as if
the d 1 was after you." " Just so, just so," he replied, and rode on not at
all abating his speed.
On his return from Hartford, a number of the most respectable men in Litch-
field escorted him part of the way to Bethlem. When they halted to return, the
Doctor thus addressed them. "My friends, I know not what to say to j^ou.
But I will say as the Indian did to his brethren, when they came to bury his wife.
' Thank you, thank you. Hope I shall have opportunity to show you such a
favour.' " '*
Dr. Backus was a man of deep and unafl'ected humility. There are very few
men with whom I was ever acquainted, who appeared to have a deeper sense of
their own sinfulness, or a stronger reliance on God's sovereign grace, than he habit-
ually manifested. He had his failings; but instead of excusing or palliating
them, he always condemned them with the utmost severity.
He loved the cause of Christ. To promote this cause was the great object to
which all his powers were consecrated, and the only object for which he desired
to live. He took a deep interest in those plans of benevolence which have been
devised to promote the interests of Zion and the salvation of men, and spent his
latest breath in praying for the conversion of the world.
I am your friend and brother in the Gospel,
BENNETT TYLER.
FROM THE REV. LUTHER F. DIMMICK, D. D.
Newburyport, January 19, 1851i.
Rev. and dear Sir: It was my happiness to be acquainted with Dr. Backus,
only during a few of the latter years of his life. He was President of Hamilton
College during my course there, and died a few months after the Com-
mencement at which I was graduated. These few years, however, were suflScient
to enable any one to understand essentially the leading elements of his character ;
for his character was of that description which is " known and read of all men."
Dr. Backus was rather low of stature, but portly, and somewhat corpulent.
He had a full, open countenance, with a rather small, grey eye. His manners
were simple, unostentatious, entirely artless, — the manifest out-workings of an
intelligent, vigorous, benevolent nature within. Though he took no pains to be
impressive, yet no person of intelligence could be long with him without feeling
that he was in the presence of a superior man.
Dr. Backus possessed marked originality of character. He was too strong a
man to be an imitator. He was himself. The elements of his being moved in
their own way. Men saw in him something unique, as well as vigorous, which
attracted their attention and impressed them. He was eminently free from all
pedantry and pretence. He had, indeed, less accuracy of scholarship than some
others; but he had a strong, native common sense, which could not fail, in any
place, to make itself respected. He had great openness and candour of mind,
which prepared a way for him to the minds of others. He had no sinuosities in
his course^ or folds in his heart, concealing his intentions. His purpose was man-
AZEL BACKUS. 287
ifest — evcrj' man could see it — and his course direct and open to its attainment.
He Tvas felt to be an honcat man, — which the poet has declared to be the " noblest
•work of God."
A still further element in Dr. Backus' character was the largeness of his heart.
He had quick and generous sensibilities. Among his friends, and indeed in all
situations, his sj'mpathies were strikingly manifest. In his domestic relations,
as a husband and as a father, these excellencies shone. As the head of a College,
while faithful in his duties, he was urbane and kind to his associates of the Fac-
ulty. To his pupils he was unforbidding and aflectionate; admitting them not
indeed to undue familiarity, to which no one probably was ever incUned, but to
all proper freedom ; allowing them to feel that they might come to him in all their
wants, as children to a father. His pupils will never lose the impression of the
kind interest he manifested in them; of his readiness to counsel and aid them, as
exigencies might require.
The religious character of Dr. Backus was prominent. In his religion he was
not a mere theorist; but here also, as every where else, a sincere and practical
man. His religion was not a speculation merely, but also a devotion. He had
very exalted conceptions of God, and of God's manifestations of wisdom, power,
truth, justice, love, in creation and redemption; and the deepest emotions of his
heart were stirred under the truths he apprehended on these subjects. He desi-
red the religious well-being of his pupils. So his heart showed itself to his class
in view of the religious lesson of Monday morning — "Young gentlemen, it is
the religion of your country; as educated men you ought to understand it;"
while it was evident that an immensely deeper current of feeling was flowing
through his bosom, relating to the wants of the soul for eternity.
As a preacher. Dr. Backus was of course instructive, as every preacher with a
mind like his must be; but beyond this, he was earnest and impressive. He
seized upon the most important things to say, and said them in unadorned yet
forcible language, and from a heart that felt them. In the delivery of his ser-
mons he was deliberate, — sometimes perhaps rather slow, distinct in his enunci-
ation, and made more use than is common of emphasis. He had very little ges-
ture, scarcely more than the raising of his right hand to a level with his chin or
his eye, and bringing it down in a perpendicular direction upon the cushion or
the Bible. Often in connection with this, in impassioned passages, there was a
pause in his utterance; during which, his countenance changing with emotion,
his lip quivering, the tear starting in his eye, his audience could not fail to be
wrought into deep sympathy with him, till at length, the word and the motion
of the hand came together, and some of the finest effects of oratory were pro-
duced. No man better exhibited the power of the pause in oratory. Yet in him
it seemed entirely unpremeditated and spontaneous ; — no art, but simply the
working of an ingenuous and powerful nature within him.
There was in Dr. Backus naturally an element of the facetious, which often
showed itself in his intercourse with his friends; yet nothing of it ever appeared
in the pulpit. His reverence for the pulpit and the themes treated there,
awakened other trains of thought, and opened other fountains of emotion, and
rendered him among the most serious of preachers.
Of Dr. Backus it may in a word, be said: — The collective excellence of the
man forms a picture strong, bold, original, in its outlines; filled up impres-
sively with light and shade, and richly varied colourings; the whole placing it
among the nobler specimens of humanity, and rendering it worthy to be
enshrined for the inspection and instruction of after ages.
Very respectfully and truly yours,
L. F. DIMMICK.
288 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
CHAUNCEY LEE, D. D *
1789—1842.
Chal'NCEt Lee was a son of the Rev. Jonathan Lee, who was the first
uiinistor of Salisbury, Conn. He (the father) was the son of David and
Lvdia (Strong) Lee, of Coventry, Conn., where he was born July 10, 1718.
He was graduated at Yale College in 1742 ; and, having studied Theology
under the direction of the Rev. Solomon Williams of Lebanon, was ordained
at Salisbury, November 23, 1744, by the Rev. Messrs, Humphreys
of Derby, Leavenworth* of Waterbury, and Toddt of Northbury ; but, for
this act, they were severally suspended by the Association of the county
who adhered to the Saybrook Platform, — on the ground that they formed
the church in Salisbury on the principles of the old Cambridge Platform.
He died October 10, 1788. He was an animated and popular preacher,
and exerted an important influence in the churches of Connecticut. He
published the Election Sermon for 1766 ; and a Sermon on the death of
xlbigail Spencer, 1787.
Chauncey Lee, having fitted for College under the instruction of his
father, entered at Yale in 1780, and graduated in 1784. Shortly after, he
commenced the study of the Law under John Canfield, Esq., of Sharon,
Conn., with the late John Cotton Smith as an associate student. After
being admitted to the bar, he opened an office in Salisbury, his native
place, and practised Law a short time. A change having occurred in his
feelings on the subject of religion, and the legal profession being withal
somewhat distasteful to him, he resolved to relinquish it, and betake him-
self to the ministry. In this resolution he was aided not a little by the
advice of the Rev. Daniel Farrand of South Canaan, an adjoining parish,
who was an intimate friend of his father. To the inquiry which he made
of Mr. Farrand as to what course he ought to pursue, — he received for
answer, — " I had rather be a faithful minister of the Lord Jesus Christ,
than to be the crowned potentate of all the kingdoms of the world." This
remark, made with great solemnity and earnestness, seems to have gone
far towards settling his mind in relation to his duty. Notwithstanding he
was now the head of a small family, he went to Stockbridge and resided for
some time, as a student of Divinity, with the Rev. Dr. West, and was
licensed to preach by the Association of Litchfield county, at Southbury,
June 3, 1789.
For some time after the death of his father, he supplied the pulpit at
Salisbury, and his labours were so acceptable that there was a strong desire
in the parish to give him a call ; but it is supposed that he did not himself
favour the measure. As a considerable number emigrated about that time
from his native place to Vermont, among whom was his father-in-law, he
v^as induced to journey into that region ; and, after preaching there for a
• MS. from his family and from the Rev. I>r. Allen of Northampton.
t IVIark Leavenworth was graduated at Yale College in 1737; was ordained pastor of tha
church in Waterbury in 1740; and died in 1797. He was a Chaplain in the army during the
French war. He published the Election Sermon in 1772.
t Samuel Todd was graduated at Yale College in 1734; was ordained pastor of the church
in Northbury, Conn., 1740; was dismissed in 1764; was installed pastor of the church in Ply-
mouth, Conn., in 1766; and died in 1789.
CHAUNCEY LEE. 289
while, he received a call to settle in the ministry in the town of Sunderland .
lie accepted the call, and was ordained March 18, 1790. A curious eir-
cunistaiice occurred in connection with his settlement. A lot of land had
been given for the benefit of the first settled pastor ; and as two churches
had been formed in different parts of the town, each was desirous to have
its minister settled first, in order to obtain the bounty. The same day was
appointed for the ordination of the two ministers ; and both were actually
ordained the same day and the same hour ; and the land was claimed in
behalf of each. The matter was long litigated in the County Court, and
many of the clocks and watches of Sunderland were brought to testify in
the case, until at length it was decided that the settlement of Mr. Sherwin,*
who was the other pastor, preceded that of Mr. Lee about two minutes.
The controversy had a very unfavourable influence upon both parishes.
Mr. Lee continued his labours at Sunderland for several years, and finally
resigned his charge, on account of the inability of the people to furnish him
au adequate support. In the winter of 1797-98, he resided in Lansing-
burgh, N. Y., in the capacity of a teacher, but he seems to have continued
there only a few months. He removed next to Hudson, where he preached at
least a year. In the autumn of 1799, he removed with his family to Salis-
bury, his native place, and remained for a few months among his relatives.
He was installed at Colebrook in January, 1800, on which occasion the
sermon was preached by the Rev, Mr. Judson of Sheffield. His pastorate
at Colebrook continued till February, 1827, and was finally terminated in
consequence of a difficulty that arose in the church in connection with a
case of discipline. He was installed pastor of the church in Marlborough,
Conn., November 18, 1828, where he continued till January 11, 1837,
when he resigned his charge, in consequence partly of declining health, and
partly of a discouraging state of things among his people. After this, at
the solicitation of one of his sons, he removed to Hartwick, N. Y., where
he continued till his death, which occurred in December, 1842. He died at
the age of seventy-nine. His last illness was short, and bore the character
of cholic, attended with fever. He was placid and patient, fearful of giving
trouble to his children in his last days and hours, and resting with humble
and joyful confidence in the promises of the Gospel. Before being prostrated
by disease, though his health was feeble, he was wont to play upon the
accordeon, and sing, wiih great tenderness anfi peculiar intensity of feeling,
' Home, Sweet Home," as expressive of his longings in aged widowhood to
enter the Heavenly rest.
He received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Columbia College,
New York, in 1823.
Dr. Lee was first married about the time that he commenced the practice
of Law, to Abigail, daughter of Joshua Staunton of Salisbury. She died
iu the autumn of 1805. By this marriage he had two sous and a daughter.
The son, Chaxmcey Graham, was graduated at Middlebury College in 1817,
and has since been settled in the ministry in several places. Dr. Lee was
married, a second time, to Olive, widow of Alexander Spencer of Amenia,
N. Y., — brother of the late Chief Justice Ambrose Spencer, in 180G. She
died, January, 1818. By this marriage also, he had two sons and a
* Jacob Sherwin was born in Hebron, Conn., in 1736; was graduated at Yale College in
1759; was ordained minister of the Second parish in Sunderland, March 18, 1790; and died in
1803.
\'()i.. ir. 37
290 T;n>;iTAKiAN congregational.
daughter. lie was marrietl a tliiru time, in the autumn of 1818, to Mrs.
Rebecca Green of New London, who died, some time before him, at Hart-
wick. By the last marriage he had no chihlren.
Dr. Lee published the American Accomptant: an Ai-ithmctic, 1797;
The Trial of Virtue : a metrical version of the Book of Job, 1807 ; Con-
necticut Election Sermon, 1813 ; a Sermon on the death of the Rev. A.
R. Robbins, 1818 ; Sermons especially designed for Revivals, (one vol. lli
mo.,) 1824; Letters from Aristarchus to Philemop, 1833.
I had some opportunity of an acquaintance with Dr. Lee, though not till
after he had retired from the active duties of the ministry, and was con-
siderably enfeebled by disease and old age. I remember him as an exceed-
ingly courteous, gentlemanly, and agreeable old man. The theological
controversy, sometimes known as the " New Haven controversy," whicli
was then going forward, strongly enlisted his ardent feelings, and he
regarded the interests of New England orthodoxy as in imminent peril. It
was about this time that he published his "Letters from Aristarchus to
Philemon," in which some of the main points in the controversy were
vigorously and earnestly discussed. I was always impressed with the
kindliness and benignity of his spirit, and can now recall circumstances
which very beautifully illustrated it.
FROM THE REV. LEONARD E. LATHROP, D. D.
AtJBCEN, December 7, 1850.
Dear Sir : Agreeably to your suggestion, I very cheerfully transmit to you some
of my recollections of the Rev. Dr. Chauncey Lee. He must have been near fifty
years of age, when I first became acquainted with him. It was during my
ministry at Salisbury, which was the place of his nativity, and in which he was
a frequent visitor.
In stature, Dr. Lee was of rather more than ordinary height, with a frame well
proportioned, though somewhat stooping. He was rather thin in flesh and of a
nervous temperament, ardent in his feelings and strong in his predilections and
prejudices. He had an intelligent countenance, an eye prominent and penetrating,
and yet mild in expression. His literary acquirements were very considerable,
and during a portion of the time of his residence at Colcbrook, he superintended
the education of several classes of young ladies and gentlemen, — for which service
he was well qualified, and in which he was emincntlj' successful. He had an
active mind, was fond of studyT and was addicted to habits of careful investiga-
tion, and often of laborious research, while he was distinguished for more than
ordinary power of imagination, and for good humour and facetiousness ; the latter
of which qualities were sometimes so exuberant in their manifestations, as to give
liim pain in the retrospect. I remember that, on one public occasion, at the din-
ner table, where there was a large company, not a few of whom were mere men
of the world, he indulged his passion for humour to such an extent, as to produce
long continued and almost convulsive laughter. On retiring from the table, he
remarked to me that he felt quite indebted to me for the pleasure and instruction
which I had afforded him by a discourse which had been delivered on the occasion.
To which T replied, — " I think we have been indebted to you for much amuse-
ment at the table." Upon which, his countenance fell, and, after a moment's
pause, and with considerable emotion, he said, — •' Well, my dear brother, I am
sorry, I am sorry ; if I have done wrong, I hope God will forgive me." This
expression indicated a characteristic conscientiousness, and a fear that he had
exhibited a degree of levity, exceeding the bounds of Christian and clerical pro-
Iiriety. He was one among a very few clergymen of my acquaintance, who have
CIIAUNCEY LEE. 291
been troubled by a constitutional propensity for sallies of jocularity and wit, that
was occasionally irrepressible.
Yet he appeared to be a man not only of extensive religious knowledge, but of
deep religious experience. In all that appertained to his vocation as a Christian
minister, he seemed to act in the fear of God, and under a solemn sense of responsi-
bility. His views of Theology, I think, were more nearly in accordance with
those of Dr. Emmons, than of any other of the prominent theologians of New
England ; while he loved also, in the main, the teachings of Edwards, and Bel-
lamy, and Hopkins, and Dwight. He presented very clearly his own views of
Christian doctrine and experience, in his preaching. As a preacher he was
instructive, earnest, and often considerably animated. In the course of his
ministry, he had the privilege, more than once, of witnessing a special blessing in
connection with his labours. His volume of sermons, designed particularlj- for
seasons of revival, was well received, and circulated quite extensively in its day.
His Paraphrase of the book of Job, entitled " The Triumphs of Virtue," shows
at least that he was poetically inclined. He occasionally indulged also in some
lyric effusions, which have been inserted in collections of Hymns, and used for
devotional purposes. He had also considerable musical taste, and his tune to Dr.
Beattie's " Hermit," had, at one time, a good deal of celebrity.
Very respectfully yours,
L. E. LATHROP.
HERMAN DAGGETT *
1789—1832.
Herman Daggett was born at Walpole, Mass., September 11, 1766.
He was a son of Dr. Ebenezer Daggett, a highly respectable physician in
his day, who was a brother of the Rev. Naphtali Daggett, one of the Pre-
sidents of Yale College. The first ancestor of the family in this country
was John Daggett, who, a few years after the settlement of Plymouth,
came and took up his residence on the Island of Martha's Vineyard.
Dr. Daggett removed with his family from Walpole to Wrentham, when
his son Herman was a boy, and there continued in medical practice till his
death, which occurred, February 26, 1782. The son was, at his father's
decease, between fifteen and .sixteen years of age. He had the reputation
of being an amiable and discreet youth, and withal had an uncommon thirst
for knowledge. He coveted a liberal education, but his health was far from
being vigorous, and his means were very limited, if indeed he had any means
at all. Quickened, however, in his efforts, by his zeal for knowledge, he passed
rapidly and successfully through his course preparatory to College, and
became a member of Brown University in 1784. His standing there as a
scholar was highly respectable, and he graduated in 1788.
In the second year of his College course, his mind, which had before
been seriously directed by the influence of a Christian education, became
deeply impressed with the subject of religion as a practical concern ; and it
was to this period that he referred the commencement of his religious life.
His ardour in literary pursuits seems not to have been at all repressed by
•An unpublished biography.
292 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
the change in his moral feelings, thougli all his faculties and attainments
were, from this time, evidently consecrated to the glory of Grod and the
benefit of his fellow creatures.
Shortly after his graduation, he placed himself as a theological student
under the direction of the Rev. Dr. Emmons, who, even at that early period,
had acquired the reputation of being very learned in his profession. Hav-
ing spent about a year in his preparatory studies, he was licensed to preach
by the Association holding its session at Northbridge, in October, 1789,
and preached, for the first time, on the succeeding Sabbath, in Dr. Emmons'
pulpit.
Within a short time after he was licensed, he visited Long Island, with a
view of being engaged as a preacher, thinking that the climate would prove
more congenial to his health than that of New England. Here he was
received with mor« tlian common favour. For a year, he supplied the Pres-
byterian congregation at Southold ; and, though they gave him a unanimous
call, yet, being unwilling to practise on the "Half-way Covenant," he felt
constrained to decline it. Thence he was called to preach at Southampton,
where also he was unanimously invited to the pastorship. This latter invi-
tation, after considerable hesitation, he accepted, and was set apart by the
Presbytery to the pastoral office, April 12, 1792.
On the 3d of September following, Mr. Daggett was married to Sarah,
daughter of Colonel Mathewson, a respectable and wealthy citizen of
Providence, li. I. The marriage was strongly opposed by the parents
of the young lady, on the ground of a great inequality in the worldly
circumstances of the parties ; but they subsequently became reconciled
to it, and received Mr. Daggett with the respect and affection due to
his character and the relation they sustained to him. Mrs. Daggett was
a lady of fine accomplishments and most exemplary character, and sur-
vived her husband many years. She died, having never had any children,
November 20, 1843.
31r. Daggett's continuance at Southampton was for less than four years.
Almost immediately after his settlement, a difficulty arose between him and
a part of his people on the subject of the "-Half-way Covenant," (he being
unwilling to practise on that principle,) which ultimately extended to many
other churches, and was the principal, if not the entire, cause of his resign-
ing his charge. He behaved with great moderation and dignity throughout
the whole controversy, and his character for discretion was never impugned.
It was a sufficient evidence that he came out of the controversy at South-
ampton unscathed, that, almost immediately after he was at liberty, he was
called to the pastoral care of the church at West Hampton, a village in the
immediate neighbourhood of the one he had left. Here he continued,
greatly respected and beloved by his people from September, 1797, to Sep-
tember, 1801, when he was dismissed chiefly on account of an inadequate
support.
In October following, he was installed pastor of the church at Fire Place
and Middle Island, in the town of Brookhaven, and preached alternately
to the two congregations, till April, 1807, when his health had become so
far reduced that he resigned his charge with an intention of never resuming
the responsibilities of the pastoral office.
During the eighteen years of Mr. Daggett's residence on Long Island,
and in each of the four several charges with which he was connected, he
HERMAN DAGGETT. 293
enjoyed a large measure of public respect, and his labours were, by no
means, unattended with success. He was greatly esteemed, especially by
his brethren in the ministry, for the wisdom of his counsels, not less than
for the consistency of his general deportment.
After leaving Long Island, his health was considerably improved, so that
he was able to preach frequently, and even for a considerable time without
interruption. For a year he preached and taught a school at Cairo, Greene
County, N. Y. For some time he preached also at Patterson, Putnam
County ; and fur two years he preached and taught an Academy at North
Salem, Westchester County. Thence he went to New Canaan, Conn.,
where he took charge of an Academy.
The Foreign Mission School having been established at Cornwall, by the
American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, Mr. Daggett was
soon thought of as a suitable person to be placed at the head of it ; but
when he was conferred with on the subject, it was ascertained that, though
he was well enough disposed to accept such an appointment, yet that his
engagement at New Canaan would detain him there for several months.
The appointment was made, and his inauguration took place on the 6th of
May, 1818, — Governor Treadwell officiating on the occasion. Both the Gov-
ernor and Mr. Daggett delivered addresses, and the llev. JMr. Harvey, then
of Goshen, preached a sermon, all of which were published in connection
with the memoirs of Obookiah.*
The school of which Mr. Daggett now became the head, consisted of
youth and children from various Pagan nations. Though they were only
about thirty in number, there were natives of Sumatra, China, Bengal,
Hindostan, Mexico, New Zealand ; of the Society Islands and Marquesas
Islands ; of the Isles of Greece and of the Azores ; there were specimens
also of various North American Indian tribes — Cherokees, Choctaws,
Osages, Oneidas, Tusearoras, Senecas, and the tribe at St. Regis in
Canada. In age they ranged from mere childhood to adult years. The
languages which they spoke rivalled in point of number those which were
^heard at Jerusalem on the day of Pentecost. There was of course a great
variety of taste, and disposition, and character, in these representatives
of so many barbarous nations. A more difficult task can hardly be con-
ceived than the management of such a school as this ; and yet Mr. Daggett,
* Hekry Obookiah was a native of Hawaii, the most important and populous of the Sand-
wich Islands. lie was born about the year 1792. His mother was related to the family of the
King. When he was t§n or twelve years old, both his parents were slain before his eyes, in a
war between two parties for the dominion of the Island. He was himself taken prisoner, and
was carried to the house of the man who had murdered his parents. Here he remained until
he was found by an uncle, who, having succeeded in recovering him, treated him as his own
child. This uncle was a Pagan priest, and designed to educate Obookiah for the same service.
The young man, being little satisfied with his prospects, and possessing somewhat of an adven-
turous spirit, left his uncle and came to the United States in the year 1809. On his arrival in
this country, he attracted the notice of several excellent persons, among whom was the
lamented Samuel J. Mills. Jr., and was not only brought under a Christian influence, but
became apparently a devout and earnest Christian. After having resided successively at New
Haven, Torringford, Andover, Litchfield, Goshen, Canaan, Amherst, and South Farms, he
became, in April, 1817, a member of the Foreign Mission School at Cornwall, with an inten-
tion of returning ere long to preach the Gospel to his benighted countrymen. About the com-
mencement of the next year, he was attacked with the typhus fever, and such was its violence
that the best meilical skill was found insufficient to control or arrest it. He died in great peace
on the night of the 17th of February. He possessed a naturally vigorous and inquisitive mind,
and a great facility at acquiring knowledge. He had translated into his native tongue the
whole of the Book of Genesis, and had made considerable progress towards completing a Gram-
mar, a Dictionary, and a Spelling Book. His Christian character was every way exemplary,
and his death blighted many cherished hopes of extensive usefulness in the missionary field.
294 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
by his great kindness and wisdom, succeeded in giving to the school a very
hariuouious character, and iu rendering it, for a season, the instrument of
no inconsiderable usefulness. It became, however, after a few years,
obnoxious to public censure, on account of the intermarriage of two or three
Indians with respectable young ladies in the neighbourhood ; and in the
year 1826, it was dissolved. Mr. Daggett's connection with it continued
nearly six years, terminating in 1824. Early in that year, his liealtli sunk
so low as to forbid his performing his duties as a teacher, or even leaving
his house. In consequence of this continued indisposition, he tendered his
resignation as Principal, and the Rev. Dr. Bassett* was appointed in his
place. Mr. Daggett was accustomed to preach on the Sabbath to his pupils ;
and others in the neighbourhood, who were disposed, had the privilege of
attending on his ministrations. His pupils were generally greatly attached
to him, and not a few of them were believed to have been radically and
permanently benefitted by his influence.
Mr. Daggett lived about eight years after he had retired from all public
service. He still continued to reside at Cornwall, and was regarded by the
whole community with the utmost respect and veneration. Though he was
never otlierwisc than feeble, he was usually able in pleasant weather to
attend public worship on the Sabbath, and sometimes made short visits to
his neighbours, which were alike welcome and useful. He gave much of
his time to reading, especially whatever had a bearing on the missionary
cause ; and occasionally used his pen in aid of some of the Religious peri-
odicals. On the first Sabbath of March, 1832, he took a severe cold, which
maiked the commencement of his ultimate and rapid decline. Fo-r about
two months and a half, he lingered in great patience, and generally in
strong faith, though not without a cloud occasionally passing over his
mind, — till the 19th of May, when he breathed out his life in perfect peace.
When it became manifest that the spirit had fled, a prayer was offered by
the side of his remains, and then a letter read, which he had addressed to
his beloved wife, designed to comfort her, especially in that hour. The
funeral was attended two days after, and an appropriate sermon preached
on the occasion by a former pastor of the church, from Numbers XXill. 10.
Mr. Daggett published a Sermon on the death of the Rev. Samuel Buell,
D. D., 1798.
FROM THE REV. TIMOTHY STONE.
•
Cornwall, Conn., November 13, 1851.
My dear Sir: I knew the Rev. Herman Daggett well, and for many years sus-
tained to him very intimate relations. Such was my estimate of him that I am
not unwilling to do any thing in my power to honour and perpetuate his memorv.
In person, Mr. Daggett was of middle size, uncommonly erect, his limbs well
formed, and his appearance and gait altogether dignified. His countenance was
•Amos Bassijtt was a native of Derby, Conn.; was graduated at Yale College in 1784;
was a Tutor in the College from 1789 to 1793; was ordained pastor of the church in Hebron,
Conn., N^ovcinbcr 5, 1794; was dismissed September 28, 1824; was appointed Principal of the
Foreign jMission School in Cornwall the same year; was installed pastor of the church in Mon-
roe, C<inn., in 1827; and died in 1828. lie received the degree of 1). D. from Williams Col-
lege in 1817. lie was a member of the Corporation of Yale College from 1810 to 1827. He
published an Election Sermon, and a Sermon before the Connecticut Missionary Society. He
was an excellent .scholar, a sensibh- and solemn preacher, and especially distinguishedfor the
gravity of his deportment, and for godly simplicity and sincerity.
IlEFM^X DAGGETT. 295
marked with a pleasant gravit}-; and it was somewhat remarkable that, having
endured so much infirmity for so many years, he should still have retained to the
last a perfectlj* placid and equable exjivssion. His face was naturally pale,
always thin, and towards the close of life greatl}^ emaciated. lie was mild and
urbane in his deportment, and was, in iht- strictest sense of the word, a gentle-
man.
It must be acknowledged that Mr. Daggett was not constitutionally of a bold
and adventurous turn. lie may be said to have been rather of a timid disposi-
tion; and there is reason to believe that, in souk- instances, his extreme caution
and great jealousy of the appearance of evil, led him to accomplish less good than
was actually within his power. But notwithstanding his scrupulosity in some
things of small moment approached even to superstition, the Christian who
accomplishes as much good and as little evil as he did, is very rarely to be met
with.
His mental powers were above mediocrity, and had been cultivated by a
tiiorough classical education. His mind was clear and penetrating, and he had
trained himself to a habit of accurate discrimination. His judgment was uncom-
monly sound, but he had very little of the imasiinative. AVith all his physical
intirmity and natural timidity, he was by no means lacking in decision in respect
to matters of importance.
He was remarkable for his regard to system. In every thing that pertained to
study, business, and recreation, the habit of perfect order had become like second
nature. It was owing to this, that he was able, amidst his manifold infirmities,
to dispatch business with a degree of tact and rapidity that surprised every one.
This habit he inculcated strongly upon his pupils, and sometimes with no little
effect. Some of the youth who came as savages from the wilderness, — not know-
ing what letters were, became, under his instruction, excellent penmen, imitating
remarkably his own fair and beautiful hand.
Mr. Daggett had a high standing as a classical scholar. He knew thoroughly
every branch of literature and science which he professed to teach. He had an
almost intuitive discernment of ch.aractfM-, which was a great help to him in the
management of 5''0uth. He quickly ascertained Lhcir talents and tempers, and
adapted his treatment to the variety of character with great dexterity and suc-
cess. He rarely had occasion to use severe measures, as the mild and conciliatory
ones, which he was always disposed to try first, scarcel}^ ever failed to prove
successful.
There was nothing in his temperament that approached the phlegmatic — on
the contrary, he was naturally susceptible of keen feelings. But, like Socrates
and Booerhave, he had taught his passions to bow to severe discipline. He was
remarkably free from ambition, and had little regard for popular applause. He
loved a quiet and retired life, while yet he had no sympathy with the idle recluse,*
who takes no interest in the joys and sorrows of his fellow men.
Mr. Daggett was more habitually serious in his deportment than most Chris-
tians or most ministers. He seemed to be living constantly with his eye upon
the retributions of the world to come. Not that he never indulged in a smile, or
never allowed himself for a moment in innocent playfulness; but occasions of this
latter kind were rather the exceptions than the general rule. Not onlj' the law of
kindness, but the law of prudence, was- always upon his tongue. Nevertheless he
did not hesitate to administer a rebuke to insolent wickedness and impiety, when
it was demanded; and such was the veneration in which even the wicked held his
character, that his reproofs were sure at least to silence and confound them. On
one occasion he was in a promiscuous company, where a noisy, boisterous fellow,
wiio did not know that he was present, was speaking very reproachfully of some
of the truths of religion. Mr. Daggett, having listened for a while in silence, came
forward and said, with great dignity and solemnity of manner, — "'I must be
296 TUIKITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
allowed to spuak in viuiiicaiiuji of my Master's cause." The poor creature was
instantly overwhehned with confusion, and was glad to make his escape from the
company by the shortest way possible.
His Christian character was distinguished b^ a deep and all pervading ro.ve-
rence. Whenever he uttered the name of the Most High, or referred to any of his
attributes or ways, there was a noticeable increased solemnity in his manner of
speakhig. In prayer, he seemed eminentl}' impressed with a sense of the imme-
diate presence of his JNIaker. He delighted much in religious conversation, but he
was not fond of dwelling upon his own personal experience. Indeed his great
modesty led him to keep himself out of view on all occasions, so far as he could
consistently with his sense of duty.
Mr. Daggett possessed a truly catliolic spirit. He was indeed tenacious of his
own opinions, and yet he was tolerant of the opinions of those who very con-
siderably differed from liim. For instance, he considered John Wesley as holding
errors by no means unimportant, and yet he allowed to him a superior mind,
unquestionable piety, and a widely extended influence in reforming the morals and
saving the souls of men.
Mr. Daggett's Theology was Calvinistic, though I cannot say how far it was
modified by the peculiar speculations of his theological instructer, Dr. Emmons.
If he held any of those speculations, I am not aware that he ever broached them
in the j)ulpit. His preaching was much more than ordinarily acceptable. His
voice, though feeble, was pleasant, and his enunciation uncommonly distinct. His
manner was rather persuasive than bold and commanding. His sermons were
written with great correctness, insomuch that they would scarcely have required
any revision, if they had been intended for the pre.«s. They were of a highly
practical character, and were evidently designed to produce their cllect, not upon
the fancy, or even the intellect alone, but upon the conscience, the heart, and the
life. In a word, he preached as one who expected to die and render an account
to his Lord. Such is an outline of the character of my departed friend. I cannot
but feel that his memory is blessed.
I am your friend and brother,
TIMOTHY STOl^E.
ETHAN SMITH *
1790—1849.
Ethan Smith was the son of Deacon Elijah and Sibbil (Worthington)
Smith, and was born at Belchertown, Mass., on the 19th of December,
1762. His parents were both eminently pious persons ; and his mother
particularly spared no pains to give the minds of her children a right direc-
tion. His father was much engaged in public life, and served his
country in the French war, as Captain under Sir Willinni Johnson, in the
regiment of Colonel Ephniim Williams. He died when this son was in his
eighth year; shortly after which, the ton was sent from home to live with
some of his relatives. In consequence of being thus withdrawn from the
good influence of his mother, and finding nothing in his new situation that
could be a substitute for it, he gradually lost, in a measure, the serious
impressions of his earlier years, and, until he had reached his eighteenth
•MS. from his son, Dr. L. A. Smith.
ETHAN SMITH. 297
year, was absorbed in the vanities and gaieties of life. He had, during this
period, learned the trade of a boot, shoe, and leather manufacturer.
In the year 1780, he joined the American army, and was at West Point,
at the time of the detection of Arnold's Treason. On leaving the army, he
returned to South Hadley, where he had before resided. The state of reli-
gion there at that time was deplorably low, and almost every species of
wickedness seemed to be in the ascendant. The impressions which parental
faithfulness had early made upon him, now revived, and he was shocked at
ihe part which he found himself acting, in connection with his wicked com-
panions. He suddenly withdrew from their society, and gave much of his
time to serious meditation and prayer. It was not, however, until after a
protracted course of inward conflict, that he was brought, as he believed, to
repose in the gracious economy of the Gospel. He united with the church
in South Hadley in the autumn of 1781.
Shortly after this, he went to a town about twenty miles distant, with a
view to set up the business to which he had served an apprenticeship ; and
there he was met with a cordial welcome by a number of pious people, who
very readily co-operated with him in establishing prayer meetings on week-
day evenings. A clergyman whom he met about this time, and whom he
had heard preach, suggested to him the idea of commencing a course o£
study with reference to the ministry ; and when he urged his poverty as an
objection, the clergyman kindly offered to assist him, and expressed his con-
fident conviction that he would succeed. He consulted some of his friends,
especially his mother and his pastor, and they both looked upon the project
with warm approbation. He then went to his father's minister, the Rev.
Justus Forward* of Belchertown, who had baptized him in infancy, and he
not only cordially concurred with his other friends in their approbation of
the measure, but actually oft'ered to superintend his preparation for College,
without any compensation. He thankfully availed himself of the generous
offer ; and while he was prosecuting his studies, was a main instrument of
bringing about an extensive revival of religion in Mr. Forward's parish.
Having gone through his preparatory course, he entered Dartmouth Col-
lege in 1786. He found but little of the spirit of religion there ; but there
were still a few, who were alive to Christian obligation, with whom he was
accustomed to take sweet counsel. He passed reputably through College, —
occasionally teaching a school for a few months, and graduated honourably in
1790.
Though much of his reading, for the ten preceding years, had been upon
theological subjects, it was his intention to devote one entire year, after his
graduation, to the study of Theology, under some competent teacher; but
on referring the ease to the Association of ministers in the neighbourhood
of Hanover, they advised that he should enter at once on the duties of the
ministry, and actually gave him license to preach within about a month after
♦Justus Forward, the son of Joseph and Mary (Lawton) Forward, was born in Suffield,
Conn., May 11, (0. S.) 1730; was graduated at Yale College in 1754; on leaving College,
taught a school in Hatfield, and at the same time studied Theology under the Rev. Timothy
Woodbridge; was licensed to preach in the autumn of 1755; was ordained pastor of the church
in Belchertown, February 25, 1756; and died March 8, 1814, in the eighty-fourth year of hia
age. He was married December 8, 1756, to Violet, daughter of Joshua Dickinson of Hatfiejd,
by whom he had eleven children. She survived her husband nearly twenty years, and died
Maroh 27, 1S:U, in her ninety-sixth year. The Hon. Mark Doolittle,'who was, for a long time,
one of Mr. Forward's parishioners, says that "he was a correct classical scholar," that "ha
possessed a well-balanced mind,"' and that his "character was strongly marked by the stern,
faithful, nuassumiugj considerate traits, showing his Puritanic lineage."
Vol. II. 38
OQg TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ho was gratluatcd. lie commenced preaching at Haverhill, N. II., on thfl
1st of October, being then in his twenty-eighth year. After preaching there
seven or eight niontiis, he was ordained as the pastor of that church.
On the 4th of February, IT'Jo, he was married to Bathshcba, daughter of
the llev. David Sauford of Medway, Mass. Another daughter of Mr-vSan-
ford was married, at the same time, to another clergj'man ; the ceremony
being performed in the meeting-house, and a sermon preached on the occa-
sion by the Kev. Dr. Emmons, from the text — " I will walk within my
house with a perfect heart."
Mr. Smith remained at Haverhill, and in great harmony with his people,
nine years ; when he was induced to leave them for want of an adequate
support.* He was immediately called to three different places, but he chose
Hopkinton, N. H., where he was settled in the winter of 1799, and had a
ministry of eighteen years. Here again, his salary ultimately proved
insufficient for the support of his family, and in the winter of 1818, he took the
pastoral charge of the Presbyterian church in Hebron, N. Y. His expectations
here not being realized, — after remaining two or thi-ee years, he accepted a
call from the Congregational church in Poultney, Vt., where he continued a
little less than five years, and was honourably dismissed at his own request.
After this, he became the pastor of the Congregational church in Hanover,
Mass.; but he found many of the people there holding doctrines so different
from his own, that he could have but little satisfaction in his ministry, and
after a brief sojourn among them, he resigned his charge, and accepted an
appointment as City Missionary in Boston. After this, he was never set-
tled, but laboured incessantly in vacant congregations and in important
agencies.
Mr. Smith had a robust constitution and vigorous health, as is sufficiently
indicated by the fact that he never lost a Sabbath from bodily indisposition,
till he had been preaching nearly thirty years ; and only two or three during his
whole ministry. He continued to preach until within two weeks of his death.
Soon after he reached the age of eighty, his sight, from being overtasked,
became very dim, and he was no longer able to read, though he never became
totally blind. So familiar was he with the Bible and Watts, that it was his
uniform custom to open the book in the pulpit, and give out the chapter and
hymn, and seem to read them ; and he very rarely made a mistake, to awaken
a suspicion that he was repeating from memory. He died after an illness
of a few days, at the residence of his son-in-law, the Rev. William H. San-
ford of Boylston, Mass., on the 29th of August, 1849, in the eighty-seventh
year of his age. His last days and hours were full of peace and joy, and
he passed away from all earthly scenes in a manner well becoming "an old
disciple." His funeral sermon was preached by the Rev. Dr. Nelson of
Leicester.
Mrs. Smith died suddenly at Pompey, New York, on the 5th of April,
1835, at the age of sixty-four. They had ten children, — four sons and six
daughters. Three of the sons received a collegiate education — two entered
the ministry, and one the medical profession. Three of the daughters were
married to clergymen.
The following is a list of Mr. Smith's publications : — A Farewell Sermon
at Haverhill, N, H., 1799. A Sermon preached at Hopkinton, N. H., the
Sabbath succeeding his installation, 1800. Two Sermons on Jeremiah vil,
8, preached on an exchange in Washington, N. H., 1805. A Thanksgiving
ETHAN SMITH. 299
Sermon at Newburyport, 1809. A Sermon preached to a Ladies' Cent
Institution, Hopkiuton, 1814. A Sermon preached at Dunbarton, at the
funeral of the wife of the Rev. Dr. Harris, 1815. Two Sermons preached at
Hopkinton on Matt, xxvill, 18-20, 181G. A Sermon at the ordination
of the Rev. Stephen Martindale * at Tiumouth, Vermont, 1819. A Lecture
on Infant Baptism, 18:24. A Sermon at tiie ordination of the Rev. Harvey
Smith, at WeybriJge, Vermont, 1825.
Besides these single sermons, Mr. Smith published the following larger
works : — A Dissertation on the Prophecies, 1809. A Key to the Figurative
language of the Prophecies, 1814. A View of the Trinity, designed as an
answer to Noah Worcester's Bible News, 1824. A View of the Hebrews,
designed to pi-ove among other things that the Aborigines of America are
descended from the ten tribes of Israel, 1825. Memoirs of Mrs. Abigail
Bailey. Four Lectures on the subjects and mode of Baptism. A Key
to the Revelation, 1833. Prophetic Catechism to lead to the study of the
prophetic Scriptures, 1839.
FROM THE REV. ABRAHAM BURNHAM, D. D.
Pembroke, N. H., December 19, 1849.
Rev. and dear Sir: Had I foreseen, forty years ago, that the Rev. Ethan Smith
would die before me, and that I should be requested to furnish my recollections
of him in aid of a sketch of his character, I might have been able, even at this
hite period, to contribute something that would be of use to you. But when you
remember how evanescent our impressions generally are, where there is nothing
special to give them permanence; and when I tell j'ou that I never had but nme
years' ministerial intercourse with Mr. Smith, and that that brief period termina-
ted more than thirty years ago, j'ou will not expect from me much that can avail
to your purpose. I will, however, cheerfully do what I can in compliance with
your wishes.
When Mr. Smith was installed at Hopkinton, in the early part of the year
1800, I was a spectator of the solemnity. From that time I occasionally saw him,
and iieard him preach at Dunbarton, my native place, a town adjoining Hopkinton;
though not very frequently, ns I was absent from home, either a student at College,
or engaged in teaching. But from tlie time of my own ordmation in this place,
(March, 1808,) I had the privilege of uninterrupted fraternal intercourse with
him, until he resigned his charge, and left the State about the close of the year
1817. I can truly say that my recollections of him arc exceedingly pleasant; and
I have no doubt that all the ministers in this region with whom he was associated,
wouhl unite with me in the opinion that his name is very worthy of being enrolled
with the great and good who have gone before us.
The personal appearance of Mr. Smith was decidedly prepossessing. He was
of full middling stature, thick set, and erect in posture, quick in all his motions,
and yet graceful in all, of a light, fair complexion, bright, sparkling eyes, and a
pleasant countenance that always told of good feeling, peace, and hope within.
In his dispositions he was humane, l)enevolent, atfectionate, — a true friend of
his race. He possessed natural and acquired abilities, which, under the control
of a sanctiiied heart, qualified liim for extensive usefulness. With warm and
generous sympathies, with highly cultivated social feelings and mucli improved
•Stephen Martindale was born in West Dorset, Vt., November 25, 1787; was fitted for
College by the Rev. Dr. Jackson of Dorset ; was graduated at MiJdlebury College in 1806 ; and wag
Preceptor of an Academj' at West Dorset from 1807 to 1S14, daring which time he qualified
himself for a physician. He then read Theology under the direction of the Hev. Dr. Jackson;
preached a short time in Riga, N. Y. ; was pastor of the Congregational church in Tinmouth,
Vt., from 1819 to 18?,2; and in M'allingford from 1832 till his death, March 21, 1847.
300 TRINITAKIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
conversational powers, he was a very agi-eeal)le companion, and always contribu-
ted to tlie happiness of every circle into which he happened to be thrown.
As a minister of the Gospel, he certainly occupied an elevated position among
his brethren. Like Timothy, he had known the Scriptures from his childhood.
Few, if any, ministers of his time, had a more familiar acquaintance than lie,
especially with the common version of the Bible. He was a Bible man, and a
Bible preacher. lie was well read in Theology and Ecclesiastical HistorJ^ He
delighted much in what he regarded the peculiar doctrines of the Gospel, and was
at once apt in illustrating them, and able in defending them. He was a ready
extemporaneous speaker, and often uttered himself most felicitously without
much premeditation; Init his composition was perhaps a little verbose, and his
utterance rather unduly rapid. He was a warm friend of what he accounted
pure revivals of religion; though he was_ careful to distinguish tlio precious from
the vile, in the whole matter of religious experience. The office work of the
Holy Spirit formed a frequent and important topic of his public discourses, and
he discussed it skilfully, experimentally, solemnly. As a pastor, he was ever
watchful, sympathetic, affectionate, and withal successful. As a writer, he was
judicious and useful, rather than polished and ornate. His printed worlds indicate
extensive reading, laborious research, and patient reflection.
Mr. Smith was a warm friend to the various benevolent objects of the day, and
a liberal patron also, so far as his limited meanfe would admit. He had a leading
part among a few clergymen in establishing the New Hampshire Missionary
Society, in 1801, and served as its Secretary for sixteen successive years, — that
is, till lie left the State, in 1817.
In fine, Mr. Smith sustained all his relations with dignity and usefulness.
Endowed witli a vigorous constitution, possessing a sound mind in a hcaltliful
body, affable and courteous in his demeanour, and steadily devoted to the best
interests of his fellow men, his good influence was extensively felt while he was
living, and now that he is dead, I cannot doubt that it survives and operates
through innumerable channels.
Your brother in the Gospel of Jesus Christ,
ABRAHAM BURNHAM.
ALVAN HYDE, D. D.*
1790—1833.
Alvan Hyde was born in the part of Norwicli, Conn., which is now
Franklin, February 2, 1708. He was a son of Joseph Hyde, a respectable
farmer and a friend of religious institutions, but not a communicant in the
church. His mother died when he was but six years old ; but his father
was by no means neglectful of his religious education, availing himself of
frequent opportunities to endeavour to give a right direction to his youthful
mind. His sense of obligation for paternal kindness he evinced in subse-
(juent life, especially by endeavouring, in turn, with the utmost delicacy
and afiection, to impress the mind of his father with the importance of
certain domestic duties which, on account of his not being a professor of
religion, he had never performed.
•Amer. Quart. Reg., VIII.
ALVAN HYDE. 30|
At the beginning of tlio year 1783, he commenced his preparation for
College under thu instruction of the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Samuel Nott,
the clergyman of the parish in which his father resided. In September,
1784, he was admitted a member of Dartmouth College. In his prepara-
tory course he had sufl'cred considerable interruption in his studies, from a
severe and protracted illness, which, for some time, put his life in jeopardy;
and, during tlie first year of his college life, such was the state of his health,
that he considered it doubtful whether he should be able to proceed. Hi.'?
bodily indisposition, however, was rendered, by the Divine blessing, greatly
subservient to his spiritual interests. The subject of his soul's salvation
not only urged itself upon his thoughts, as he lay upon his sick bed,
hut it continued to be the all-engrossing concern with him, after he was
restored to health ; and his impressions were ultimately matured into a
living and earnest piety. From the time of his joining College, he seems
to have associated principally with persons of decided religious character,
and to have studiously availed himself of every means for the cultivation of
religion in his own heart ; but it was not till the summer of 1786, when he
was in his Sophomore year, that he made a public profession of his faith, by
joining the church connected with the College.
In September, 1788, he received the degree of Bachelor of Arts. Shortly
after, he commenced instructer of the town school in Northampton, Mass.,
where he was visited with a severe illness, which had well nigh proved fatal.
This illness gathered around him many Christian friends, whose kind oiiBces
he recollected with the warmest gratitude, as long as he lived. It was not
long before he was restored to his accustomed health, and was enabled to
return to his duties as a teacher. His engagement with his school continued
for about ten months.
Having had for years an unwavering purpose to devote himself to the
Christian ministry, he went, in the autumn of 1789, to Somers, and placed
himself under the instruction of ■ the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Charles Backus,
who was regarded as among the most eminent theological teachers of his
day. Here he continued until June, 1790, when he was licensed to preach
by the Association of Tolland county.
For about two years, he was preaching in various places as a candidate ;
and, while on probation at Lee, where he finally settled, he availed himself,
to some extent, of the theological instruction of the Rev. Dr. West of
Stockbridge. He seems to have had no expectation originally of remaining
permanently at Lee; but the harmony of the people in giving him a call,
together with some other propitious circumstances, led him to believe that
Providence pointed to that place as his ultimate field of labour; and,
accordingly, he accepted their invitation, and was duly constituted their
pastor, June G, 1792. The sermon on the occasion was preached by the
Rev. Samuel Nott, his former pastor.
In April, 1793, he was married to Lucy, daughter of Benjamin Fessen-
den, of Sandwich, and granddaughter of the Rev. Benjamin Fessenden,*
pastor of the church in that place. They had eleven children. Five of them
died before their father, and four within the brief period of two years.
The reflections of the father on some of these occasions, as recorded in his
• Benjamin Fessenden was bora at Cambridge in 1702; was graduated at Harvard College
in 1718; was ordained pastor of the church in Sandwich,Mas'^., September 17, 1722; and died
Angust 8, 1750, aged fifty-four.
302 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
diary, exhibit at once the heart of the parent and of the Christian in most
delightful combination.
Imuiediately after his (settlement, he entered upon a system of pastoral
duty, which he continued till near the close of his ministry, and in which
lay, no doubt, in no incon.siderable degree, the elements of its success. He
instituted weekly meetings in different parts of his parish, for the purpose
of devotion and familiar exposition of the word of Grod ; and, while he always
took the lead in the exercise, he encouraged any who were present to make
inquiries, and even to state their views, concerning the portion of Scripture
that occupied their attention. In this way he visited every neighbourhood
many times in the course of the year; and kept himself apprized, so far a?
possible, of the spiritual condition of every individual.
When he entered upon his pastoral charge, the church consisted of only
twenty-one male members, and was otherwise in a very languishing state.
But almost immediately the interests of vital godliness began to be revived,
and, after about one year, the church had received an accession of one
hundred and ten members. In the course of his ministry there were four
extensive and powerful revivals ; and the years that intervened between
these seasons of special attention, were far from being years of spiritual
barrenness. There was never a period of any considerable length, that did
not witness to a perceptible spiritual influence among his people, and, as a
consequence, to the addition of a greater or less number to the church.
About seven hundred were received as communicants during the whole
period of his ministry.
Notwithstanding his pre-eminent fidelity and success as a parish minister,
his usefulness was by no means limited to his own immediate congregation.
He had a high reputation as a theological teacher, and, in the course of his
ministry, he assisted between thirty and forty young men in their prepara-
tion for the sacred office. He was also among the most active friends and
patrons of Williams College, and was in some way officially connected
with it for more than thirty years. His great wisdom and caution gave
uncommon weight to his counsels ; and there are few clergymen whose
services are so often put in requisition as were his, on ecclesiastical
councils, and especially in perplexed and difficult cases. He had also a
deep interest in the benevolent moveiuents of the day. While he contribu-
ted freely of his own substance for the advancement of the Kingdom of
Christ, it was one great end of his ministry to awaken his congregation,
and all whom his influence might reach, to more vigorous efforts for carrying
the Grospel throughout the world.
He received various public testimonies of respect, not only from his bre-
thren in the ministry, but from the community at large. In 1817, he
preached the Annual Sermon before the Convention of Congregational
ministers in Massachusetts. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was con-
ferred upon him by the Corporation of Dartmouth College in 1812. On all
public occasions, there was the utmost respect paid to his opinion, and every
disposition manifested to give him precedence.
Dr. Hyde was several times solicited to remove to other stations which
were supposed to present a wider field of usefulness ; but he was inflexible
in his determination to spend and be spent, to live and die, among the peo-
ple who were committed to his charge at the time of his ordination. It had
been better perhaps for his own comfort in the decline of life that he had
ALVAN HYDE. 303
consented to a removal ; for he lived to witness a disastrous change in his
congregation, that greatly embittered his last days. The year 1833, the
last year of his life, was one of far more solicitude than any preceding
year of his ministry ; and no doubt this served greatly to impair the ener-
aiies of his constitution. His last illness commenced on the 28th of Novem-
ber, and terminated on the fourth of December. In the prospect of death,
he exhibited the same peaceful, humble, heavenly temper, which had so long
given the complexion to his life. He declared with his dying breath that
his confidence in his Redeemer's atonement brought him all the consolation
that he needed. An appropriate sermon was preached at his funeral by the
Rev. Dr. Shepard of Lenox.
Besides the contributions which he made to various periodicals, he published
the following miscellaneous Discourses : — A Thanksgiving Sermon, 1796.
A Sermon on the death of Mrs. Elizabeth West and H. W. Dwight, 1804.
A Sermon at the ordination of Azariah Clark,* 1807. A Sermon entitled
" the power and grace of Christ displayed in the salvation of believers," 1810.
A Sermon occasioned by the death of Mrs. Abigail Bassett, 1812. A Ser-
mon at the funeral of Mrs. Benton, 1814. A Sermon entitled " the Conjugal
relation made happy and useful," 1815. A Sermon at the funeral of the
Rev. David Perry, t 1817. A Sermon at the ordination of Alvan Hyde,
Jr.,* 1819. Sketches of the life of the Rev. Stephen West, D. D., 1819.
A Sermon on the two hundredth anniversary of the landing at Plymouth,
1820. A Sermon on Temperance, 1829. An Essay on the state of infants,
1830. A Sermon at the funeral of Madam Dorothy Williams, 1833.
FROM THE REV. HEMAN HUMPHREY, D. D,
PRESIDENT OF AMHEEST COLLEGE.
PiTTSFiELD, January 21, 1848.
Dear Sir: My acquaintance with Dr. Hyde commenced when I came into
Berkshire county in 1817, and continued to the time of his death. I think him
worthy on every account of a place in your Annals, and am sorry that I have
not more time to do justice to my own high estimation of him as a Christian,
a friend, a minister, and a pastor.
Dr. Hj-de belonged to the old school of New England Theology. Without
calling any man " master," he believed in the Westminster Catechism — in other
words, he was a Calvinist, sympathizing strongly with Dr. Samuel Hopkins
on most points, though not on all. He might perhaps be called an Edwardean
rather than a Hopkinsian. It may be as truly said of him, as of any preacher
I ever heard, that he did not shun to declare all the counsel of God, whether
the people would hear or whether they would forbear. His sermons were well
studied, highly evangelical, and uncommonly instructive. His reasoning was
never deeply metaphysical, but what is better in pulpit discourses, his argu-
ments were lucidly arranged, well put, and well sustained. His style was
simple and imadorned, but always perspicuous. You always understood him
without any of that eflTort which it sometimes costs to comprehend or remem-
ber what are called very beautiful discourses. His was a model of plain, direct.
• Azariah Clark wa.s graduated at Williams College in 1805 ; was ordained pastor of the
church in New Canaan, N. Y., March 18, 1807; and died in 1832, aged fifty-four.
t David Perry was born at Huntington, Conn., July 30, 1746; was graduated at Yalo Col-
lege in 1772; was ordained pastor of the church in Harwinton, Conn., February 16, 1771; w.i3
dismissed in 1784; was installed pastor of the church in Ilichmonl, Mass., in August, 17S4:
and died June 7, 1817.
I Alvan Hyde, Jr., was born in Lee, Mass.; was graduated at Williams College in 1815;
was ordained pastor of the church in Madison, Ohio, September 1, 1819; and died in 1824, aged
thirty.
ii04 TRI^■ITAIlIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
common-sense preaching. He aimed to enlighten the understanding and reach
tlie conscience; and, in this respect, few preachers were more successful than
he was. Though he was eminently' a doctrinal preacher, he was also highly
practical and searchingly experimental. Like the Apostle Paul's epistles, the
basis of his sermons was doctrinal, and upon this basis, he rested his strongest
jjractical appeals.
Dr. Hyde's manner in the pulpit was solemn, grave, and earnest, but never
mipassioned. He spoke as one who felt that "he must give account," and
whose only aim was to "win souls to Christ," not by loud declamation, but
by the clear and simple presentation of Bible truth. His voice was full and
his enunciation uncommonly distinct, so that he would be heard in the largest
\;hurches, — meeting-houses he would certainly have called them. His sermons
for the pulpit Avere, I believe, always written out in full; and, in delivering
them, he was more confined to the manuscript than many preachers far inferior
to him are. He stood in one position, or with very little bodily motion in the
pulpit, and his gestures, if any, were " few and far between." The gravity of
his countenance and the solemnity of his tones did far more to make you feel
that you were listening to a man of God, than if he had been gifted with an
animated and graceful delivery.
As Dr. Hyde, in his preaching, probed the conscience of awakened sinners
\o the bottom, and did every thing in his power to prevent them from embracing
("alse hopes, so he was remarkably strict and searching in examining candidates
tor admission into the church.
As a pastor, Dr. Hyde was second to no minister with whom I have ever been
acquainted. It was astonishing to see how much pastoral labour he performed,
besides visiting the sick and afflicted of his congregation. He generally appointed
two, three, or more weekly evening lectures, conferences, or prayer meetings, in
the different school districts of his large parish, and habitually attended them
himself, both in winter and summer, let the weather be what it might; thougli,
m some directions, he had to travel three or four miles for the purpose. In this
I used to think he went beyond the bounds of safety to his health; and I ani
sure that, but for an uncommonly firm constitution, he must have sunk early
under such exposures and accumulated labour. His pastoral visits (which lie
7nade really such) were multiplied beyond what his people could reasonably have
demanded, and he took little note of rain or snow himself, when an appointment
was to be met. Though some of his congregation had to come five miles or moro
to meeting on the Sabbath, I once heard him say that he could not tell b}^ looking
round upon the audience whether it was fair or stormy. The house was always
full. How he had brought them up to this extraordinary habit of punctuality,
was a mystery to me till I heard it thus explained.
If any were absent, Dr. Hyde always noticed it, and was sure, early after
breakfast on Monday morning, to call on tliem and inquire the cause. " Good
morning, Mr. A, how do you do.^" "Quite well, I thank you. Sir." "How
does your family do.''" " They are as well as common." " I am glad to hear it.
As I missed you from meeting yesterday, and you are always there, I thought
some of the family must certainly be sick." After such a morning pastoral visit.
Mr. A" was not very likely to be absent the next Sabbath.
Dr. Hyde was very punctual in visiting all the town schools, and catechising
the children of his church and congregation. Nor was he less remarkable for his
punctuality in attending the stated meetings of tlie Berkshire Association, as well
as all ecclesiastical councils to which he was invited; and they were many.
In his house. Dr. Hyde, though liaving a large foraily to support upon a small
salary, was eminently " given to hospitality-" His brethren were always welcome
to his fireside and to his table, and if he did not " entertain angels unawares," it
was not for want of cordiality in receiving strangers under his roof.
ALVAN HYDE. 305-
Dr. Hyde was a minister exery day in the week and all the year round. Though
he was very sociable, and no man enjoyed the society of his friends more than he
did, I never heard an unguarded or frivolous word from his lips. " His speech
was always with grace, seasoned with salt." He had not a particle of tacetious-
noss in him, and 1 never heard of his indulging himself in a witticism either at
home or abroad. He had a pleasant smile, which told you of the kindlj^ sympa-
thies in his bosom, but he seldom laughed, and hardly ever, I believe, loud enough
to be heard in the next room. Everywhere, he was an " example of the believers
in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purit3^"
In his family. Dr. Hyde presided with the dignity of a true patriarch. He
" ruled well his own house, having his children in subjection Avith all gravity."
In all his domestic arrangements he was remarkably systematic. The children
must go to bed and rise at just such hours evening and morning. Every boy must
have a nail for his hat, and a place for his shoes, and so for every thing else that
belonged to him. At family prayers, the children must sit just so, and in the
same place. The tall, venerable clock in the corner of the kitchen, was scarcely
]iiore regular in measuring off the twenty-four hours, than was Dr. Hyde in all
the regulations of his house, as well as in his own movements.
What I have written may probably suffice for your purpose, though the subject
is one every way grateful to my thoughts and feelings.
AflFectionately yours,
HEMAN HUMPHREY.
FROM THE REV. MARK HOPKINS, D. D.,
PRESIDENT OF WILLIAMS COLLEGE.
Williams College, January 15, 1851.
Dear Sir: My personal impressions of Dr. Hyde, of whom you wish some
account, were partly received in early life, and partly as I knew him subsequently
in connection with this College. As he was settled before I was born, and my
native place was adjacent to Lee, some knowledge of him from hearing him spoken
of, and from seeing him occasionally in the pulpit, was mingled with my very
early recollections; and nothing can be more distinct and uniform than the whole
impression he made. This was so even in respect to age, for I doubt whether he
appeared to me older or more venerable the last time I saw him, than in my
boyish estimate he did the first.
Di". Hyde was of a medium height and well proportioned. His countenance,
though remarkable for no one feature, had yet a distinctness of outline and an
expression of solemnity and benignity, such that, once seen, it would never be
forgotten. It is now before me as distinctly as if I had seen it yesterday.
In the pulpit, where I first saw him, he was deeply solemn and earnest, but
never vehement. Every thing he said was carefully written, and delivered in
a simple, forcible, and entirely appropriate manner. You saw in it, not the
sentiment only, but the man. His articulation was perfect. His voice was
never loud, but was remarkably clear and distinct, and though entirely pleas-
ant, was of such a quality as to be heard farther with a given amount of it,
than that of any speaker that I remember. His delivery was animated, but
without much action, — his power lying in his appearance and voice, and in his
matter. In his discourses there was but little of figurative language, and no
aim at rhetorical effect. They were plain, sound, thoroughly investigated, dis-
criminating Gospel sermons, and invariably left an impression of his sincerity,
and of the solemnity and importance of the truths he uttered. He was indeed,
in his whole appearance and demeanour in the pulpit, such a man as we love to
see there, and to welcome as a messenger from God.
Vol. II. 39
306 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Out of the pulpit, the manners of Dr. lljde Mere tliose of a Christian gen-
tleman. There was nothing in his habits, or conversation, or movements even,
to weaken the impression made on the Sabbath. AV'hat he may have had to
contend witli originally 1 do not know; but he invariably appeared to be calm
and self-possessed, ruling his own spirit. lie made no hasty or imprudent
remarks, indulged in no levity, in no "foolish talking" or "jesting." Such
were his uniformity and self-command that Dr. Backus who was somewhat
impulsive, once said to him, — " Why, Brother Hyde, I sin and repent, and sin
and repent, but it seems to me you liave nothing to repent of." This calm-
ness, however, was not monotony. His sensibilities were acute and- his feel-
ings strong.
Ili3 uniformity and consistency were understood to extend into all his domes-
tic arrangements and into all the social and business relations of life. This
gave him weight of character and influence as great, I think, in proportion to his
natural gifts, as those of any man I have known. This was felt in the commu-
nity, and in all meetings of ministerial bodies where he was. By his very pre-
sence, he exerted a silent and pervading iniluence, and, as I remember to have
heard it said of him, was " at work when he was asleep."
Such were my early impressions of Dr. Hyde, and with these all that I
knew subsequently was in entire harmony. Such a man we should expect
v/ould be punctual, and he regarded punctuality as a virtue. As a member of
tlie Prudential Committee, he was expected to attend the annual examination
ibr degrees, and I think he never failed to be present at the proper time, and
that he was never tard}^ at the opening of a session.
Such a man too would be expected to be a faithful, prudent, and judicious
counsellor in the affairs of a literary institution. He was eminently so, and to
him this College is largely indebted. For thirty-one years he was a member
of the Board of Trustees, and twenty-one years he was the Vice-President of
the College. During that time, often in the midst of great embarrassments
and conflicts of opinion, he gave, most disinterestedly, his time and thoughts
to its best interests. With the exception of Dr. Shepard, and Dr. Oooley, the
present Vice-President, he was a member of the Board longer than any other
man.
Looking at the character of Dr. Hyde, as a whole, the impression is not one
of very great power in any given direction ; but of great completeness and har-
mony, from a combination of qualities which would seem to be within the
reach of every one. He was economical, yet generous: prudent, yet energetic:
mild, yet decided: affectionate and gentle, yet faithful and true to the interests
of religion and of the soul.
Ilis influence was all in one direction. It Avas that of a minister of Christ,
and there was in him such a beautiful blending of nature and of grace, that, to
look at him as he appeared in later years, it would really seem impossible that he
should ever have been any thing but a Christian minister. His natural consti-
tution was such that the Divine light within him seems to have been less
refi-acted, and its image less distorted, by the medium through which it shone,
than in common men.
On the whole, so far as my knowledge of Dr. Ilyde extended, I can truly
say that I have never known any one with less that I could wish otherwise, or
wlio might be more safely held up as the model of a Christian minister and
pastor.
With great respect and regard, yours,
MARK HOPKINS.
I
NATHANIEL HOWE. 3Q7
NATHANIEL HOWE*
1790—1837.
Nathaniel Howe was the third son of Captain Abraham and Lucy
(Appleton) Howe, and was born in Ipswich, (Linebrook parish,) Mass.,
October 6, 1764. He prepared for College partly at Dummer Academy,
Byfield, under the instruction of Mr. Samuel Moody, and afterwards studied
for a while under the Rev. George Leslie t his pastor, and the Rev. Ebe-
nezer Bradford of Rowley. During his residence with the latter he made a
profession of religion, and united with the church under his care. In Septem-
ber, 1784, he became a member of the Junior class in Princeton College ; but,
after having remained there a year, transferred his relation to Harvard
University, where he maintained, in regard to both scholarship and beha-
viour, an excellent standing in his class, and graduated in 1786.
On leaving College, he spent some time in teaching school in his native
town, and then entered on his course of theological study under the direc-
tion of Dr. Hart of Preston, Conn., — which he completed under Dr.
Emmons of Franklin, Mass. On becoming a licentiate, he preached suc-
cessively at Londonderry and Francistown, N. H. ; at Hampton, Conn. ;
and at Grafton, Mass. ; and from the church in the latter place he received
a call, which, however, he thought proper to decline. He commenced
preaching at Hopkinton in January, 1791 ; and, in May following, received
a unanimous call from the church to settle as its pastor. The town concur-
red in the call, on condition that the Half-way Covenant system should be
retained. Mr. Howe so far acceded tp their wishes as to engage to
exchange with ministers who would administer the ordinance of baptism
upon that principle, while he refused to do it personally. The town having
given their assent to this, he was ordained on the 5th of October, 1791, — the
Rev. Mr. Bradford, his friend and teacher, preaching the ordination ser-
mon.
Mr. Howe continued sole pastor of the church, until 1830, when, on
account of his increasing bodily infirmities, the Rev. Amos A. Phelps t was
* Century Sermon and Biographical notice prefixed. — Hist, of Mendon Association.
t George Leslie was a son of James Leslie, who came from Scotland and settled at Tops-
field, Mass., when George was two years old. He was graduated at Harvard College in 1748;
was ordaine:! at Linebrook, (Ipswich,) November 15, 1749, after preaching there a year; waa
dismissed November 30, 1779, for want of support; was installed at AVashingtou, N. H., July
12, 1780; and died September 11, 1800, aged seventy-two. He fitted many young men for
College and several for the ministry. " He had a strong mind, was a noted scholar and a
pious minister.- He published a Sermon at the ordination of Samuel Perley — [who was
a native of Ipswich; was graduated at Harvard College in 176u; was ordained pastor of the
church at Seabrook, N. H., in 1765; was dismissed in 1775; was installed at Maltenboro." N.
H., in October, 1778 : was dismissed; and died November 28, 1831, aged eighty-nine.]
t Amos Augustus P elps was born in Simsburv, Conn., November 11, 1804; was graduated
at Yale College in 1826 ; studied Theology in the Theological Seminary at New Haven ; was
ordained at Hopkinton, September 14, 1830: was dismissed May 1, 1832; was installed pastor
of the Pine Street church, Boston, September 13, 1832; was dismissed March 26, 1S34; entered
shortly after on an agency for the American Anti-Slavery Society; in April, 1830, accepted
the editorship of the Emancipator, and conducted it till May of the following year, at which
time he removed to Boston, and became general agent of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery
Society, in whose service he continued till the division in 1839; accepted a call from the Marl-
boro- Chapel Free church, Boston, and was installed July 24, 1839; entered upon the agency
for City Missions in Boston, March 1, 1841 ; was installed, March 2, 1842, as pastor of the
Mavericl' church. East Boston; sailed for England to attend the London Anti-.^laverv Con-
tention, June 1, 1843; resigned his pastorate at East Boston and accepted the oflice of Secre-
tary of the American and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society at New York, whither he removed m
308 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
settled as his colleague. After Mr. P.'s dismission in 1832, the Rev.
Jefifrics Hall accepted a call to the same place, and remained till after Mr.
Howe's death. With both those gentlemen ho lived on terms of affectionate
iiitinuicy. His last sermon was preached at Franklin, December 25, 1830 ;
and his last public service was a prayer at the installation of the llev. Dr.
Brigham, at Framingham. He died, fully sustained by the Gospel he had
preached, February 15, 1837, in the seventy-third year of his age, and the
forty-sixth of his ministry. His funeral sermon was preached by the Rev.
Dr. Ide of Medway.
Mr. Howe was married, about three months after his settlement, to Olive,
daughter of Col. John Jones of Hopkinton. She died December 10, 1843.
They had four children, — one son and three daughters. The son, Appleton,
was graduated at Harvard College in 1815 ; became a physician, and has
been a member of the Massachusetts Senate.
Mr. Howe's publications are a Sermon on the death of three persons,
1808; a Century Sermon, 1815; [this is one of the most original and
remarkable productions of its kind to be found in the language, and is that
on which the fame of its author chiefly depends ;] a Sermon on the design
of John's Baptism, preached before the Mendon Association, 1819 ; an
Attempt to prove that John's Baptism was not Gospel Baptism ; being a
Reply to Dr. Baldwin's Essay on the same subject, 1820 ; a Catechism
with Miscellaneous Questions, and a chapter of Proverbs for the children
under his pastoral care.
FROM THE REV. E. SMALLEY, D. D.
Troy, March 16, 1856.
My dear Sir: My acquaintance with Mr. Howe did not commence until he was
well stricken in years. He had been settled in the ministry nearly a third of a
century when I first saw him. At that time, he was labouring under physical
infirmities, and I suppose exhibited less of intellectual vigour than in his early
:in(l niature manhood. 1 recall him as a man of medium stature and slender pro-
portions, of stooping habit and tremulous carriage. There was nothing very
striking in his physiognomy, or commanding in his personal appearance. When
in repose, his countenance would have been called dull; but when speaking on
any subject of interest, his eye would kindle and his features express great
vivacity of thought and emotion.
In regard to his intellectual qualities, those who knew him best, were most
deeply impressed with their superiority. It was a remark often made in my
hearing, tliat, had he been a diligent student, he would have had but few superiors
in the pulpit.
The reason which he gave for not studying more was, that he had been obliged
to attend to his people's duty and neglect his own; for it was their duty to support
their minister, — which they foiled adequately to do, and his duty to study, in
which he must confess that he had never abounded.
In the pulpit, Mr. llowc was instructive and interesting. I have heard him
jireach with more than ordinary power. Some passages in his sermons would
have done no discredit to a Mason or a Bellamy. And yet truth requires the
statement that his sermons M'erc often hindered from doing their proper work, by
aUusions, words, and figures, which a more cultivated taste would never have per-
April, 1845; spent the winter of ] 846-47, in .Jamaica for the benefit of his health; returned to
the United States in the spring, and died in Roxbury, July ?,0, 1847, aged forty-three. Mr.
Pholps published Lectures on Sl.avery, 18.34 ; Book of the Sabbath, 1841 ; Letters to Doctors
Bacon and Stowe, 1848; and several occasional pamphlets chiefly coimeeted with his agencies.
NATHANIEL HOWE. 3()9
mitted. Hence, from a train of thought deeply solemn and impressive, he would not
unfrequentlj' turn in an instant to some merry conceit, or ludicrous illustration,
which made mischief among the risibles of his audience. This habit, I recollect,
once provoked from a keen and caustic critic the remark, that Mr. Howe's sermons
reminded him of a well-formed beautiful hand, all disfigured by warts. These
infelicities, however, did not contradict the fact that he was more than an ordi-
narily attractive preacher. With an imperfect elocution and ungraceful gestures,
with a somewhat nasal intonation and close confinement to his notes, he yet
riveted the attention of his hearers, and made impressions upon their minds which
time could not erase. There were marks of genius, strokes of originality, and
electric touches, in his discourses, which could not fail to awaken thought and
elicit sympathy.
In public prayer, he was quite remarkable. But while generally reverent and
impressive in his addresses to the throne of the Heavenly Grace, he would at
times introduce topics and use expressions that excited any thing but devotional
feelings. On an exchange with a brother, the morning of the Sabbath was rainy,
and the afternoon pleasant. As he noticed a much larger attendance on entering
the house after the usual intermission, he put up the following petition in his first
prayer : " 0 Lord, have mercy on afternoon hearers and fair-weather Christians."
When I was set apart to the work of the ministry in Franklin, Mass., Mr. Howe
made the ordaining prayer. In immediate connection with the most aflFecting
supplications, he said, " 0 Lord may thy young servant put down the Metho-
dists and the Baptists, the Universalists and the Episcopalians, by preaching
better, and praying better, and living better, than they." The shock given to the
sensibilities may be imagined; I am sure it cannot be described.
In social life, Mr. Howe was eminently genial, sympathetic, and communica-
tive. He was full of anecdote, and failed not to laugh heartily with others at the
wit of his own stories. Even when an occurrence had a ludicrous reference to
himself, he did not hesitate to relate it, with all its mirth-provoking appendages.
I recollect one to this effect: " I was returning at one time from driving a load of
timber to the market, and being somewhat chilled by the wintry atmosphere,
called at a public house for warmth and refreshment. My step was unsteady,
and my hand trembled as I went to the bar for stimulant to revive me. The bar-
keeper looked at me for a moment, and then turned away, saying, " No, no, old
man, I cannot give you any thing to drink, you have had too much already."
At times his sense of the ludicrous would seem to be excessive, so that his
risibles would become uncontrollable.
He had a kind heart, and a ready hand towards the afliicted and needy. I
have never heard the sincerity of his piety questioned by any one. He lived to
a good old age and was gathered to his fathers in peace. Though he will long be
remembered and spoken of as a man of marked individuality and great eccen-
tricity, yet they who were best acquainted with his interior life, and fairly esti-
mated his essential qualities, will accord to him rare intellectual power, moral
integrity, and an unaffected piety. " Though dead he yet speaketh."
I am. Rev. and dear Sir, very faithfully yours,
E. SMALLEY.
3X0 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
MOSES HALLOCK *
1790—1887.
Moses Hallock was the son of William and Alice (Homan) Hallock,
and was born in Brookhaven, Long Island, Fubruary 16, 1760. When he
was seven years old, his father lost his property in a coasting vessel, which
was sunk by coming in sudden contact with a British ship ; and, in conse-
quence of this calamity, removed with his family to Goshen, Mass. ; then a
wilderness. Thei'e he and his brother, the late excellent Jeremiah Hallock
of Canton, Conn., laboured with their father in subduing the forest; and iu
1777-78, they both served, for several months, embracing the period of the
capture of Burgoync, in the war of the Revolution.
In the summer of 1783, Moses Hallock became the subject of deep
serious impressions, and, after a few months, as there is every reason to
believe, the subject of genuine conversion. His attention was almost
immediately directed to the Christian ministi'y ; and, with a view to this,
he commenced his preparation for College under the instruction of the Ilev.
Mr. Strong of Williamsburgh, boarding at home, and walking the distance
of three miles twice every day. In 1784, he entered Yale College ; and,
having maintained throughout his whole course a highly respectable standing
for scholarship, and having endeared himself much to both his instructors
and fellow students, by his amiable and Christian deportment, he graduated
with honour iu 1788.
Immediately after his graduation, he assisted his father, for several
months, on the farm, and then commenced the study of Theology under the
direction of the late Rev. S^amuel Whitman! of Goshen. He was licensed
to preach in August, 1790; and was at once invited to supply the pulpit
in Plainfield, a neighbouring town, and, early in the succeeding spring,
received a unanimous call to become their pastor. This call he felt con-
strained to decline, from an apprehension that his health was not adequate
to the duties of the pastoral office : subsequently, however, in March, 1792,
the call was unanimously renewed, and his health having in the mean time
improved, he accepted it, and was ordained the first pastor of that church,
on the 11th of July following.
From the very commencement of his ministry at Plainfield, his labours
seemed to be attended with a signal blessing. Among the subjects of the
earliest revival of which he was instrumental, was Joseph Beals, whose
history is detailed in that very interesting Tract entitled " The Mountain
Miller ;" and among those who subsequently made a profession under his
• Yale's Life of Jeremiah and Moses Hallock.
t Samuel Whitman was born at Weymouth in 1751; was graduated at Harvard College in
1775; was settled as pastor of the church in Ashby, Mass., in 1778; was dismissed in 1783; was
installed pastor of the church in Goshen, January 10, 1788; was dismissed on account of a
change in his religious opinions, July 15, 1818; and died December 18, 182G, aged seventy-five.
lie wan a llepreseutative to tlic Legislature of Massachusetts in I80S. He published a Sermon
at the ordination of Levi Lankton; [who was a native of Southington, Conn.; was i^raduat^d
at Yale College in 1777 ; was ordained pastor of the Second church in Alstead, N. H., September
.", 1789: was dismissed May 22, 1828; and died in 1843;] the substance of two Sermons at Plain-
field at the ordination of Moses Hallock; a Key to the Bible doctrine of Atonement and Justi-
fication, 8 vo., 181 1; a Sermon before the Hampshire Missionary Society, 1817; a Ser-
mon at Cummington, 1819; an impartial History of the Proceedings of the church and people
of Goshen, (Mass.) in the dismission of their minister, &c., 1824.
MOSES HALLOCK. 311
ministry, was G-eorge Vining, whose striking conversion is narrated in the
tract, — "The mother's last prayer." At brief intervals, during his whole
ministry, the minds of his people were directed with great intensity to their
spiritual interests ; and, in each successive instance, the church was strength-
ened by the addition of a goodly number, whose subsequent exemplary
deportment put it beyond a doubt that they had been the subjects of a
radical change of character. There are probably few churches, which are
habitually in a more healthful spiritual condition, than was his, during the
whole period of his ministry.
Shortly after his settlement, — his salary being scarcely adequate to meet
his necessary expenses, and the facilities for the education of young men
being much fewer than at present, he received a number of students into his
family; and this he continued to do without interruption till the year 1824.
By this means his usefulness was greatly increased ; and while he contributed
directly to aid a large number of young persons in their preparation for a
useful and honourable course, he rendered important service to the com-
munity in which he lived, by giving a new impulse to the general cause of
intellectual culture. The whole number whose education he assisted in
conducting was three hundred and four ; of whom thirty were young ladies,
a hundred and thirty-two entered College, and fifty became ministers of the
Gospel ; — six of the latter being missionaries to the heathen ; — namely,
James Richards in Ceylon ; Levi Parsons and Pliny Fisk in Palestine ;
Jonas King in Greece ; William Pvichards at the Sandwich Islands ; and
William M. Ferry among the North American Indians : Homan Hallock, his
youngest son, was missionary printer in Smyrna. Others have been distin-
guished in the different professions ; among whom are the late Hon. W illiam
H. Maynard of the New York State Senate, and the late Hon. Jeremiah
H. Hallock, a presiding Judge in Ohio. Not a small number of these
were the objects of his gratuitous assistance ; and much the larger portion
received their board and tuition at an expense little exceeding one dollar per
week. A considerable number of them also dated their conversion to the
time in which they resided in his family ; and the tidings of their extending
usefulness, that came to him from time to time, were the occasion of inex-
pressible delight and devout thankfulness.
In 1815, he buried his excellent father at the age of eighty-five, who, for
sixty years, had been an active and devoted Christian, and who died leaving
a message which he had received from his father, and which he wished to be
transmitted to the latest generation: — "Remember that there is a long
eternity." In 1826, his only and much loved brother, Jeremiah Hallock,
rested from his labours also, at the age of sixty-eight, after a laborious and
successful ministry of forty years.
When he had reached his seventieth year, agreeably to a purpose which
he had formed some years before, he proposed to his congregation to unite
with him in calling a colleague pastor; and that the expense of the ministry
might not be burdensome to them, he, with his accustomed magnanimity,
relin(|uished his own claim upon them for support. After somewhat more
than a year, his suggestion took effect in the installation of the Rev. David
Kimball as his colleague ; after which, Mr. H. assisted, for some time, in
the supply of a small destitute congregation in an adjoining town. Subse-
quently to this, however, he again unexpectedly became the sole pastor of
312 TRINITAKIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
the church, and continued to exercise among them not only a paternal, but
truly patriarchal, influence, to the close of life.
In December, 1835, his wife (who, previous to her marriage was Margaret
Allen of Chilinark, Martha's Vineyard) was removed by death, at the age
of seventy-live, after having sustained the conjugal relation with most
exemplary hdelity forty-three years. As she was knitting in the family
circle, her hands suddenly ceased to move, froiu the effect of paralysis, and
within about ten days, she was gently removed to that better world on
which her faith and hope had been fixed for nearly half a century. The
])ereaved husband evinced a spirit of the most cheerful submission on tlie
occasion, and seemed to be chiefly occupied in grateful recollections of the
Divine goodness as manifested towards her and by her. It was evident, at
the same time, that, one of the stronger ties that bound him to earth being
broken, he felt the more ready for his own approaching transition from
earth to Heaven.
About three weeks before his death, the Rev. William llichards, a mis-
sionary from the Sandwich Islands, arrived at the house of his father, a
deacon in Mr. Ilallock's church, and at that time entirely blind. As Mr.
H. sat conversing with him, the missionary called te him a native of the
Islands, who had accompanied him to this country, and presenting him to
the pastor and friend of his youth, said — " This is my teacher." The boy's
countenance kindled with surprise and delight, and he exclaimed in the
language of his own country — "Day most gone; sun most down; most
supper time." Before they separated, Mr. Hallock, by request, oftered a
prayer; and it is stated, on the testimony of one who heard it, that it was
" one of the most heavenly prayers which he eve?- heard, comparing the
Bcene, with inimitable scriptural simplicity, with that of Joseph presenting
his sons to the aged Jacob."
It was only six days previous to his death, that he preached a funeral
sermon for a member of his church, of about his own age, on the text —
" I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart and to be with
Christ, which is far better;" and, in allusion to this discourse, he remarked
on his death bed, — " Now I find it so." He died after a brief illness, on
the 17th of July, 1<S37, aged seventy-seven years. A sermon was preached
at his funeral by his intimate friend and neighbour, the Rev. Dr. Packard
of Shelburne, and another, in reference to his death, on the Sabbath follow-
ing, by the Rev. Dana Goodsell, his successor in the pastoral office.
One touching incident occurred at his funeral, which deserves to be
recorded. The only person theii living, who was a member of the church
at the time of his installation, was the venerable Deacon James Richards,
and he, as has been already stated, entirely blind. Before the coffin was
closed for the removal of the body to its final resting place, this fellow-
labourer with the deceased pastor during his whole ministry, was led up,
that he might lay his hand upon the face, which the loss of his vision
would not permit him to behol i. Bursting into a flood of tears, as he felt
the cold remains of his fricnl, he turned away with the exclamation, —
"Farewell for time; " and then the procession moved ofi" to the grave.
It was once my privilege to meet Mr. Hallock as a member of an eccle-
siastical council, — the only occasion on which I remember ever to have .seen
him ; and the impression which I received of the benignity of his spirit,
the fervour of his piety, and I may add of his clear discernment and good
MOSES HALLOCK. 323
common sense, remains vivid on my mind to this day. I well recollect that
hi.s first appearance led me to give him less credit for vigour of intellect
than I afterwards found was his due ; but I quickly discovered, under the
vail of a most meek and unpretending spirit, a mind that was capable of
taking clear and accurate views of things, and of looking into the merits
of a difficult question to much better purpose than most men of much higher
pretensions, I recollect also hearing him converse, in consequence of an
allusion to the science of Astronomy in a sermon to which he had just
listened, in a strain that showed his familiarity with modern astronomical
discoveries, as well as the deep religious sensibility and glowing admiration
with which he contemplated the whole subject. I have always thought of
him as among the finest examples of patriarchal simplicity which it has been
my privilege to witness.
Mr. Hallock had three sons, two of whom graduated at Williams College
in 1819. One of these, Gerard, is the editor of the New York Journal of
Commerce, the other, William Allen, (now the Rev. Dr. Hallock,) is
Secretary of the American Tract Society. The third son was, for thirteen
years, a missionary printer at Malta and Smyrna.
FROM THE REV. THEOPIIILUS PACKARD, D. D.
South Deerfield, Mass., June 23, 1848.
Dear Sir: Your letter of the 12th instant, asking for my recollections of the late
Rev. Moses nallock, is before me. In the eightieth year of my age, and labour-
ing under the usual infirmities of mind, and especially of memory, incident to this
advanced period, I have reallj' felt quite at a loss whether I ought to attempt a com-
pliance with your request or not. I, however, conclude to make trial, under the
full persuasion that even an utter failure will be readily perceived by your friendly
sagacity, and will not be allowed to mar the work to which you ask me to con-
tribute.
My acquaintance with Mr. Hallock was of long standing and very intimate. I
knew him well from the time of his settlement in Plainfield, and more especially
from the commencement of my own ministry at Shelburne, until his death. In
visiting my parents and ftimily friends then living in Cummington, four or five miles
from his niceting-housc, I had occasion to pass directly by his dwelling; which I
rarely did without giving him a call. In addition to this, I was in the habit of
frequently exchanging pulpits with him, and of attending meetings Avith him for
prayer and Christian conference in his parish, and occasionally in other places;
and very many and very pleasant have been my interviews with him of a more
private nature, for an interchange of thought and feeling in respect to subjects
pertaining to personal religion, and the general welfare of Christ's Kingdom.
Well do I recollect with what interest he seemed always to enter upon such
inquiries as these: — In what particular things does the Christian differ from the
sinner .' Could the sinner be happy if, at death, he were introduced to the society
of saints and angels in Heaven .'' What is the best way of preaching in order to
convince people of the real existence and presence of God, and of the nature and
importance of personal religion .' In what manner may the more private duties
of a pastor be performed to the best advantage; — such as conducting weekly
meetings for prayer, visiting from house to house, conversing personally with
individuals, saints and sinners, &C..''
He seemed plainly to indicate, in all his ways and all his doings, that the
thoughts of God were ever present with him. There was a simplicity and godly
sincerity pervading his whole conversation, that showed clearly that the prevailing
motives of his conduct were derived from the invisible and the future. " Thou
Vol. 11. 40
314 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
God seest uie," seemed to be impressed ui)on every action of his life. And I liavo
good reason to believe that, in the whole range of his tlioughts, there was no object
so beautiful, so attractive, so lovely, to his spiritual eye, as the cliaracter of the
true God. lie rejoiced especially in the character and work of the Lord Jesus
Clirist; the brightness of the Fatlicr's glory; in whom dwells all the fulness of
the Godhead. Redemption was the theme which, above all others, occupied his
thoughts. lie lived in tlie atmosphere of Calvary; and it was under this influ-
ence that all his Christian graces were developed.
lie impressed my mind most strongl}' with the conviction that he was eminently
devoted to the spiritual welfare of his llock. He regarded them not only collec-
tively but individually, as committed to his care and guidance by the Great Shep-
herd. Their immortal interests evidently rested upon his heart night and day.
His mind was fruitful in expedients for the promotion of their spiritual welfare.
He seemed never to forget that he must meet them in the judgment.
In communicating religious truth, whether in preaching or conversation, he wa.-?
slow of speech, but so perfectly plain as to be intelligible to the humblest capacit;, .
There seemed to be great uniformity in the state of his mind, as exhibited both in
his public ministrations and his private intercourse. He was serious, without
being austere; cheerful, without the least approach to levity. The cause of truth
— of God — of salvation, was evidently the great object that chiefly occupied his
regards. He never aspired to be eloquent in the popular sense; but contented
himself with the most direct and simple exhibition of Divine truth in public and
in private; giving to evcrj^ one a portion in due season. He delighted greatly in
religious conversation, especially with his brethren in the ministry; and it was no
matter whether it had respect to doctrine, experience, or practice, he was always
equally at home.
It wa.s apparent to every one who knew Mr. Ilallock that he had an exceedingly
low opinion of himself; — of his talents, his Christian character, and his standing
as a preacher; while, at the same time, he w'as quick to discern, and prompt to
acknowledge, what he considered the superior gifts and graces of his brethren. 1
have no hesitation, however, in saying that, in my estimation, he exerted a more
powerful and extensive influence for good among his own church and people, in
the course of his ministry, than almost any other pastor within the w^hole range
of my acquaintance.
Not long after his settlement at Plainfield. an individual moved thither with
his family from another town, and they were accustomed, at least for a time, to
sit under his preaching. The wife of the gentleman referred to, unlike the great
mass of the people in those days of rehgious harmony, took a strong dislike to
her tninister, and it gradually increased to such a degree that she utterly refused
to hear him preach anj'^ longer. And instead of keeping it to herself, she blazoned
it far and wide, as she had opportunity. Iler complaint was that his sermons
were utterly vapid and insignificant. About this time I happened to call on Mr.
Ilallock to solicit an exchange with him. He readily engaged to comply with my
request; and then turned to some of the members of his family and said, — " 1
wish some one of you would send word to Mrs. " (referring to the lady
above mentioned) " that Mr. Packard M'ill preach here the next Sabbath; for she
likes to go to meeting to hear any minister preach except me." I then inquired
of hira about the affair, and he freely told me in detail what I have stated above;
and. added that she had been to see him, and had told him to his face why she did
not like his preaching. Upon my enquiring for ])articulars, he stated, among
other things, that she said he was the poorest preacher she ever heard, and ought
never to attempt to preach again. "And now, Brother Packard," said he, " then-
was some truth in what she said; and I acknowledged it at the time, and told her
I really thought I tvas a poor preacher, and that my efforts in the pulpit WQn^
greatly inferior to those of other ministers, and that I really never in my whole
MOSES HALLOCK. 315
life undertook any sort of business which I tliought I ought to do, but what I
could do better than to preach. But she is willing to hear other ministers with
whom I exchange, and I am glad of that; and hence, whenever a brother minis-
ter is to preach for us, I am accustomed to let her know it. I have no doubt that
she will consider it a privilege to come and hear you."
Mr. Hallock and his church, in several instances, when some difficulty arose
among the members, called a council to give them advice. On one occasion of this
kind 1 was there; and in passing from the room in which the council were assem-
bled through the back part of the house, I heard Mr. Hallock say to an individ-
ual by him, as though in private, — " Oh, in that 1 did exceedingly wrong." 1
had the curiosity to stop and ask him what it was in relation to which he had
offended; and his reply was to this effect: — "I was speaking to him in respect to
our last council — about paying the expense of it. We had a council several
months ago, and engaged Mr. B. to entertain them. He did so; and the mem-
bers of the church made a kind of average tax among themselves; each one was
notified of his share of the expense, and each one promised to pay it. But, some
time after, it was ascertained that a considerable number had not paid; and I
reminded the brethren, in our weekly church prayer meeting, that there were
several delinquents in the matter, and that I expected they would remain delin-
quents no longer. At the next succeeding prayer meeting, I introduced the sub-
ject again, and distinctly stated that 1 considered those who were withholding
from Mr. B. his just due, as chargeable withgrossl}^ improper and sinful conduct;
and then added, ' I do not wish to liear any of you delinquents pray, nor shall 1
ask you to pray in our meeting, until you have paid Mr. B.' Now in respect to
this last remark, I think, as j'ou heard me say, I did exceedingly wrong; and 1
have told the church so; and I believe there is no difficulty about that now."
Among the various expedients which he adopted to check the progress of evil,
and to promote the interests of virtue, in his congregation, the following seems
worthy of notice, as illustrating alike his simplicity and his shrewdness.
Mr. Hallock's own dwelling-house stood about midway between the meeting-
house and a store of goods and tavern owned by one of his parishioners, — the
distance from the one to the other being about one-third of a mile. The boys,
associated with some of more advanced age, had, by sIoav degrees, acquired the
habit of meeting each other frequently, at the store, for purposes of amusement.
This habit, after a while, seemed to assume a regular form, both as to time and
occupation. The meeting came to take place statedly on Saturday a while before
sun-set; and the time was spent in sport and frolic; in frothy and foul conversa-
tion mingled with some drinking; and not unfrequenth'' they continued together
till a late hour in the evening. Mr. Hallock, being aware of the unhappy state
of things, and feeling himself called upon to make some eflbrt to arrest the tide
of evil, resolved to make it the subject of a discourse from the pulpit. Having
selected atopic which had a direct bearing upon the evil in question, — in the
course of his sermon he made a significant pause, and looked into the gallery
where the boys and young men were chiefly sitting, and addressed them as fol-
lows : — " Young friends, it seems you have been in the habit of going to Mr. M.'s,
and having meetings there Saturday night, which you have continued to a late
hour. Now these meetings, I understand, were not for prayer or Christian con-
ference— if they had been, I should gladly have attended with you; — but they
were for a widely different purpose, — nothing less than to laugh, and drink, and
talk boistcronslj- and profanely, on the verv borders of holy time. I do not know
tiiat any of you drink there to such excess as to be beastly drunk and helpless;
but some of you, I should think, come vei-y near to it — the noise you make there,
and when you go away, is very loud, and riotous, and profane. T tlo not know
that you are guilty of uttering such lilasphemous words as constitute a violation
of the civil law; but you certainly use language that is very offensive and annoy-
316 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ing to both myself and my family, and to other neighbours; and the more so as
it occurs on the beginning of the Sabbath. 1 said just now, ' You boys and
young men in the gallery," — I did not mean all of you there; I meant only those
among 3'ou who are in the habit of going to the store; and I am glad to say that
you are a very small company of youngsters compared with the rest in the gallery.
The great majority of young men and boys in this town do not go to that store
on Saturday night; and 1 think they have no notion of doing so, any more than
myself and family or any of the sober inhabitants of the town. We all think it
an evil and disgraceful practice, and feel ashamed to have it continued here; and
1 cannot think that any of you will be willing to be found in such circumstances
again. If, however, there is any one of you unwilling to quit that sinful practice,
I wish him to stand up that we may see who he is." No one rose. He then
said, "I am very glad that every one of you has abandoned that vile practice."
Thus closed his address to them; and thus closed their irregular Saturday night
gatherings at Mr. M.'s store.
I have thus contributed what I could in aid of your laudable design. I am
more than compensated for the effort which it has cost me, in the reflection that
I have been paying a tribute to the memory of an endeared personal friend, and
one of the most excellent and useful ministers by whose labours the New England
churches have ever been blessed.
With due respect and Christian affection,
I am sincerely yours,
THEOPHILUS PACKARD
ASAHEL HOOKER.*
1790—1813.
AsAHEL Hooker was born at Bethlem, Conn., August 29, 1762. He
was the son of Asahel and Anne Hooker, and a lineal descendant of the
fifth generation from the Rev. Thomas Hooker, of Puritan celebrity, the
first minister of Hartford. From his earliest years he was distinguished for
his gentleness, prudence, and fondness for books. Though his parent."?,
owing to doubts which they had in respect to their own piety, did not make
a profession of religion till they were somewhat advanced in life, yet they
were serious and exemplary persons, and trained up their children in the
nurture and admonition of the Lord. In addition to the good influence
which was exerted upon him at home, he had the privilege, until he wa^
fourteen years of age, of sitting under the ministry of Dr. Bellamy, who
was particularly distinguished for his attentions to the youth of his congre-
gation. About the year 177G, the family removed from Bethlem to Farm-
ington. Up to this period, and for s^evcral years after, young Hooker was a
constant labourer upon his father's farm ; and his purpose was to devote his
life to agricultural pursuits.
At the age of twenty, he became deeply anxious in respect to his salva-
tion ; and, after a season of great spiritual distress, was brought, as he
believed, to a cordial assent to the terms of the Gospel. Shortly after
•Strong's Fun. Senn. — Panoplist, XI. — MS. from the Rev. Dr. E. Hooker.
ASAHEL HOOKER, 317
this, lie was baptized and admitted to the communion of the church in
Farmington, by the llov. Timothy Pitkin. And now he began to meditate
the pui-pose of devoting his life to the Christian ministry. Though his
father was unable to furnish him the requisite means for prosecuting a col-
legiate course, j^et, in reliance on his own efforts, on the benevolence of
some of his friends, and above all on the help of a gracious Providence, he
resolved to undertake it ; and in due time he had the pleasure to see his
favourite object accomplished. Having fitted for College under the instruc-
tion, as is believed, of the Rev. Mr. Pitkin, he became a member of Yale
College, where he graduated in 1789. During his College course he was
distinguished for a consistent and harmonious intellectual development, for
a uniformly amiable and discreet behaviour, and for an inflexible adherence
to his convictions of duty.
After leaving College, he pursued his theological studies under the direc-
tion of his friend and benefactor, the Rev. William Robinson of Southing-
ton. Having received license to preach, he occupied, for a short time,
several vacant pulpits, and received a call from the church in Stonington,
Conn., to become their pastor; to which, however, he gave a negative
answer. Shortly after this, he was invited to preach at Goshen. A violent
controversy, growing out of the dismission of their former minister, had
seemed to render the idea of their uniting upon any one individual almost
hopeless ; but no sooner had Mr. Hooker commenced his labours there, than
the effect of his gentle and conciliatory spirit began to be felt, and. at no
distant period, the voice of contention was so far hushed, that they extended
to him a unanimous invitation to become their pastor. He accepted the
invitation, and was ordained in September, 1791. The ordination sermon
was preached by the Rev. Mr. Robinson of Southington.
In June, 1792, Mr. Hooker was married to Phoebe, daughter of Timothy
Edwards of Stockbridge, and granddaughter of the first President Edwards.
Mrs. Hooker, who was distinguished for her high intellectual, moral, and
Christian qualities, survived her husband many years, and, after his death,
was married to Samuel Farrar, Esq., of Andover, Mass. She died January
22, 1848, aged seventy-nine.
In the autumn of 1794, and again in the winter of 1795, Mr. Hooker
went as a missionary to the Northwestern part of Vermont, where he laboured
for some months with great fidelity and acceptance.
During several of the earlier years of his ministry, his labours in his own
congregation seemed to be attended with no very marked effect, other than
was manifest in the general harmony and good feeling that prevailed
among them. But in 1799, an extensive revival of religion took place, the
result of which was that about eighty persons were added to the church.
In 1807, there was another season of unusual religious interest, which was
followed by a like happy result. During this period, Mr. Hooker's zeal led
him to labour far beyond what his strength would justify ; and it soon
became manifest that he was wearing out prematurely the energies of his
constitution.
In March, 1808, he preached at the ordination of the Rev. Mr. Pitkin,
in Milford ; and afterwards rode to New Haven, and preached there the
same evening. He lodged at the house of President Dwight ; and when he
retired to rest, made no complaint of any bodily indisposition. In the
course of the night, however, he was attacked with a disease, which proved
318 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
to be pleurisy, and from which he did not so far recover as to be able to
return to his family, in less than six weeks. And even then ho was alto-
gether too feeble to resume his labours ; though the deep interest which he
felt in the spiritual state of his people, would not allow him to remain
inactive ; and, iu consequence of his premature and excessive exertions, he
soon found himself under the necessity of refraining from labour altogether.
His health seemed to be temporarily improved by a journey to Ballston
Springs ; but his return to Goshen was followed by a relapse ; in conse-
quence of which, he became satisfied that he must spend the approaching
winter in a milder climate ; Goshen, from its elevated situation, being pecu-
liarly exposed to the wintry blasts. Accordingly, he did spend the winter
of 1808-9, chiefly in the city of New York and in New Jersey ; and his
letters at this time show how deeply he lamented the separation from his
beloved people.
On his return to Goshen in the spring, there was little to indicate any
improvement of his health, but much to excite apprehension that ho was
sinking into a settled decline. He passed the summer in making short
excursions, accompanied by his wife ; and in the autumn, he concluded, by
the advice of physicians, to escape from the rigours of a Northern climate,
by spending the winter in South Carolina and Georgia. Accordingly, after
having taken a most affectionate leave of his beloved flock, he set out (Mrs.
Hooker accompanying him) for Charleston. Having reached there after a
pleasant passage of eight days from New York, he was received with the
utmost hospitality and kindness, and immediately found a home in the family
of the Kev. Dr. Keith. From Charleston he proceeded to Savannah ; and
wherever he went, he found himself among friends, who accounted it a pri-
vilege to do all they could for his comfort. During his absence, his people
were supplied by a young minister, Mr. (now the Rev. Dr.) Harvey, with
whom they were so well pleased, that they were disposed to settle him as
their pastor, provided there should be no reasonable prospect of Mr. Hooker's
being able to resume his labours ; and they wrote to him to this efi"ect. To
this letter he replied, assuring them of his full conviction that he should not
be able to continue in his charge, and requesting, though with feelings of the
deepest regret, that the arrangement should be made, at as early a period
as might be convenient, for his dismission. Agreeably to this request, he
was dismissed by the Association convened at Canaan on the 12th of June.
1810. Not only his people, but his brethren in the ministry, with whom he
had so long taken sweet counsel, parted with him with extreme reluctance ;
and there was many a faltering voice, when, as the Association were about
to take their leave of him, they sung, by his request — "Blest be the tie that
binds," i^c.
Soon after Mr. Hooker's resignation of his pastoral charge, he supplied,
for a few Sabbaths, the Brick church in New Haven, which had then become
vacant by the removal of Mr. Stuart to Andovcr. He also received a call
to settle over Christ Church parish, near Charleston, S. C. And the next
winter he supplied, for several months, the Spring-street Presbyterian
church in New York. His health, tluriiig tliis time, was better than it had
been in preceding years, but still was so delicate as to require the utmost
care and vigilance. In the summer of 1811, he travelled into Massachu-
setts, and spent some time in the vicinity of Boston. He preached at
Andover at this time with great acceptance ; and there was a disposition on
ASAIIEL HOOKER. 319
the part of many in that congregation (then vacant) to secure his services
permanently ; but he discouraged any movement to that effect, on the ground
that his health would not endure the severity of the climate.
In the autumn of 1811, he was invited to preach at Chelsea parish, Nor-
wich, Conn., from which the Rev. Walter King* had then been recently
dismissed, on account of a case of discipline which had occasioned a painful
division in the church. Here his influence happily prevailed, as it had done
before at Goshen, to heal the existing division and to restore the church to
its wonted harmony. They soon gave him a call to become their pastor ;
and having accepted it, he was installed on the 16th of January, ISVI.
The installation sermon was preached by the Rev. Dr. Nott of Franklin,
and was published.
Mr. Hooker entered upon his new field of labour with more than his
wonted zeal, with his health considerably improved, and with every prospect
of a continued life of usefulness. His preaching became more remarkable
than it had ever been before for directness and pungency ; and the very last
sermon that he preached — on the text, — " Be ye doers of the word and not
hearers only," — led one of his hearers to remark that "he preached as
though he had not long to stay in our world." From the time of his instal-
lation till February, 1813, there was no abatement of his bodily vigour, and
no indication of returning disease. At that time, he became slightly indis-
posed ; and, after a few days, was seized with a fever which prevailed at that
time with great violence in different parts of the country. .On the 8th of
April, when he seemed to have recovered from the attack, the disease
returned upon him with increased virulence, and in eleven days reached a
fatal termination. In the exercise of the most humble, submissive, and
yet triumphant, spirit, he closed his earthly career on the 19th of April,
1813, in the fifty-first year of his age. His funeral sermon was preached
by the Rev. Dr. Strong of Norwich, and was published.
Mr. Hooker had three children who lived to adult years, — one son and
two daughters. The son is the Rev. Edward W. Hooker, D. D., late a
Professor in the Theological Seminary at East Windsor. One of the
daughters was married to the Rev. Dr. Cornelius, and the other to the
Rev. Dr. Peck, Foreign Secretary of the American Baptist Missionary
Union.
Mr. Hooker, in the course of his ministry, superintended the theological
studies of about thirty young men, most of whom have been highly useful
ministers, and several among the brightest lights of their day in New
England.
Mr. Hooker published a Sermon on the Divine Sovereignty in a volume
entitled " Sermons Collected, 1797 ; a Sermon at the ordination of James
Beach,* 1805 ; the Connecticut Election Sermon, 1805 ; a Sermon at the
•Walter King, a native of Wilbraham, Mass., was graduated at Tale College in 1782;
was ordained pastor of the church in Norwich, (Chelsea,) Conn., May 24, 1787; was dismissed
in August, 1811; was installed at Williamstown, Mass., July 6, 1813; and died of a fit of apo-
plexy that seized him in the pulpit, December 1, 1815, aged fifty-seven. He published a Ser-
mon at the ordination of Daniel Hall, 1797; and a Sermon on taking leave of his people at
Norwich. Daniel Hall was originally a Univcrsalist preacher, but became a Presbyterian, and
was ordained the first pastor of the church in Southampton, L. I., September 21, 1797. In the
spring of 1806, he was dismissed, and removed, in April, to Shelter Island, where he laboured
till the close of life. He died January 12, 1812. His death was occasioned by tetanus, induced
by the amputation of a cancerous foot.
• James Beach was a native of Winchester, Conn. ; was graduated at Williams CoUege in
1804; studied Theology under the Rev. Asahel Hooker; was ordained pastor of the church in
320 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ordination of John Keep, 1805 ; together with various articles in the Con-
necticut Evangelical Magazine, &c.
FROM THE REV. HEMAN HUMPHREY, D. D.
PiTTSFiELD, May 5, 1854.
My dear Sir: Not long after I commenced my preparation for the ministry, 1
was led, from Mr. Hooker's high reputation as a theological teacher, to place
myself under his care as a student in Theology; and I continued to enjoy the
bouefit of his instructions till I Avas licensed to preach. And I may add, I
continued to enjoy the benefit of liis acquaintance till the close of his life.
He was above the middling stature, rather spare than fleshy, of a noble, open
countenance, line forehead and dark eye, ever beaming with true benignity. His
hair was black, and began to ftill off from the crown rather early. He was a man
of remarkable mildness and equanimity of temper. His face was the mirror of a
lovely disposition, llis smile attracted you, like the opening of a spring morning.
*' On his tongue was the law of kindness," and he entered so warmly into all your
interests, that j^ou could not help giving him your entire confidence. In social
intercourse, he was cheerful, free, and communicative; but never forward or
engrossing. Every one felt easy and self-possessed in hia society. He had
nothing of that patronizing tone and air, wliich affects to be very gracious to
inferiors, but which, to every well-bred person, is so extremely repulsive.
In his pastoral intercourse, while he was habitually grave, as became his sacred
office, he was so familiar with all classes of his people, that he was no less beloved
as a friend than revered as a spiritual guide and teacher. In this respect as well
as many others, he was a model to all the young men who pursued their theological
studies under his care.
As a preacher, Mr. Hooker was instructive, discriminating, and in the best
sense deservingly popular. His voice, though not very strong, was clear and
musical. His "bodily presence" in the pulpit was dignified and solemn, without
the least pretension. His enunciation was distinct. His style was simple and
clear, with very little ornament, and no ambitious drapery. His delivery was
never vehement, and his gestures were very few; but he was earnest, tender, and
persuasive. He was of the Edwardean school in Theology, was eminently a
lioctrinal preacher, and failed not to declare what he believed to be the whole
counsel of God, whether men would hear or whether they would forbear. And
llis labours were attended with an abundant blessing; several extensive revivals
of religion having occurred under his ministry.
Mr. Hooker was uncommonly skilful as well as successful as a theological
teaeher; and I am not aware that any of his students have ever dishonoured their
teacher or their profession. He had a list of questions, as was common at that
day, embracing all the essential points in a theological course, on which we were
required to write. In preparing these dissertations we were expected prayerPnll v
to study the Scriptures, and to avail ourselves of such other helps as were within
our reach. Wc read our theses before him at stated hours, and he proved himself
a good critic and an able teacher. It was not his fault, but the fault of his pupils,
if they did not enjoy as good advantages, under his instruction, as were then
attainable.
But, after all, living in his family, observing liovv he went out and came in, how
he walked before his flock, — " leading them into the green pastures," enjoying
Winsted in 1805; resigned his charge in 1843; and died .Tunc 10, 1850, the day after the comple-
tion of hia seventieth year. "llis great weight of character and rare influence seemed to
result very much from a hapyiy combination of deep piety, cultivated and vigorous intellect,
gterling sense, uniform judiciou.sness, j.iined to his marked sobriety, his brotherly kindness, his
dignified manners, his steady manifestation of strong love to God and God's truth, as he saw
them on the sacred page in lines of light and glory.'
ASAHEL HOOKER. 32]
his daily conversation, sitting under his ministry, and getting insensibly, as it
were, initiated into the duties of the pastoral office, by the light of his example,
were among the most important benefits enjoyed in his school.
To sum up Mr. Hooker's character and qualifications in a few words, he was a
good man, of excellent talents and high professional acquirements; a devoted
pastor; an edifying and a searching preacher; a wise counsellor; an earnest
defender of "the faith once delivered to the saints;" an Elisha among the young
prophets; a revered and beloved teacher, who will ever live in the grateful
remembrance of his pupils, as long as any of them shall survive him, as many
still do. And I cannot help adding that, however much may have been gained by
the establishment of Theological Seminaries, there were advantages under the
former system, which they cannot furnish, and the loss of which is seriously
felt bv our young men, as soon as they enter the ministry.
With sincere regard,
I am your friend and brother,
HEMAN HUMPHREY.
JOHN ELLIOTT, D. D.^
1791—1824.
John Elliott was the son of Deacon George Elliott of Killingwonh,
and was born August 24, 1768. He was from a line of respectable and
pious ancestors, among whom were Dr. Jared Eliot of Killingworth, and
the Rev. John Eliot of Roxbury, so well known as the "Apostle to the
Indians."
Having completed his preparatory studies in his native town, under the
instruction of the Rev. Mr. Mansfield, t he was admitted a student in Yale
College. There he applied himself to his studies with great assiduity,
maintained a high standing in his class, and was graduated with honour in
1786.
For several years after he was graduated, he was engaged in the business
of instruction, and, at the same time, as he had opportunity, pursued his
theological studies. He did not make a public profession of religion till
the year 1789.
In 1791, soon after he commenced his labours as a preacher, he accepted
a call from the church' and society in East Guilford to become their pastor;
and he was ordained on the 2d of November of that year. Here he
remained, in the faithful discharge of his duties, till the close of life. In
the early part of his ministry, he continued, to some extent, the business
of instruction of youth, and is said to have been greatly esteemed and
beloved by his pupils.
In 1812, he was elected a Fellow of the Corporation of Yale College,
and in 1816, a member of the Prudential Committee of the same body.
The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by his Alma
Mater in 1822.
• MS. from his relatives.
t Achilles Mansfield was born in New Haven in 1751, was graauated at Yale College in
1770; was oi'daiucd pastor of the churcn in Killingworth, Conn., January (>• 1779; and died
July 22, 1814, aged sixty-three. He was a Fellow of Yale College from 1808 till his death.
Vol.. 11. 41
322 TPJNITAUIAN CONGKEGATIONAL.
During the year 182-i, his health was manifestly declining, and there was
much to awaken the apprehension that his earthly career was soon to close.
His last public discourse was a lecture preparatory to the Communion, in
November of that year. lie adverted, on that occasion, with great solem-
nity and pathos, to the feeble state of his health, and to the probable near-
ness of the time when he must render an account of his stewardship. On
the Sabbath following, his disease (a disease of the heart) had assumed a
more unfavorable aspect, and he was only able to preside in the Commu-
nion service. The scene was uncommonly impressive ; and both pastor
and people evidently felt that this was to be their last meeting at the Lord's
table. He lingered till the 17th of December, and then, as was to be
expected, from the nature of his disease, died very suddenly, having com-
pleted fifty-six years, and nearly four months. His funeral sermon was
preached by Professor Fitch of Yale College.
Dr. Elliott's ministry was marked by large accessions to the church.
There were three extensive revivals — one in 1802, from which eighty were
admitted; one in 1809, from which about fifty were admitted; and oue in
1821, from which about one hundred were admitted.
The following is a list of Dr. Elliott's publications : — A New Year's
Sermon, 1802. An Oration on the death of Thomas Lewis, 1804. Con-
necticut Election Sermon, 1810. A Sermon at the installation of the Rev.
Philander Parmelee, 1815. A Sermon at the ordination of Professor
Fitch, 1817. A Sermon before the New Haven Consociation, 1817. A
Sermon on the death of Jonathan Todd, 1819. A Discourse on 1 Cor.
VII. 29.
Dr. Elliott was married to Sarah, daughter of Lot Norton of Salisbury,
Conn. He died without issue.
FROM ELEAZAR T. FITCH, D. D.,
PROFESSOR IN YALE COLLEQE.
Yale College, June 10, 1852.
My dear Sir: My acquaintance with Dr. Elliott was by no means intimate,
though he preached my ordination sermon, and I preached his funeral sermon.
I am willing, however, to undertake to give you my impressions of him, as
they were derived partly from my own observation, but chieOy from the testi
mony of friends.
lie was, I think, a man of distinguished prudence. With a mind naturally
attempered to moderation, and still more so by the sober and steady views he
took of the glory of God and true interests of men, he was greatly freed from
that extravagance of opinion or of feeling, which often leads the visionary and
the sanguine into those acts of imprudence which they regret on the return of
the cooler dictates of judgment. He deliberated before he acted; his delibera-
tion was controlled by religious fear and wise discernment; and his decisions
were therefore prudent, in.spiring confidence in others. This trait rendered him
useful in managing the concerns of his flock, and in taking his part in consulta-
tions respecting the interests of religion and literature. It adorned his charac-
ter as a man, a christian, a preacher, a pastor, and a counsellor in the churches;
and tlie fruits of it appeared in much of the good he was instrumental of secu-
ring, and the evil he was instrumental of preventing bj-^ his labours.
Ho was a man of upright constancy. His sentiments respecting the truths
and duties of the Gospel were clearly established in his own mind; and on the
basis of a settled foith his purpose was fixed, with steady eye on the glory of
JOHN ELLIOTT. 323
God, the prosperity of Zion, and the salvation of men. This constancy in pur-
suing the path of truth and duty, spread over his example, and through all his
labours, that steady lustre which convinced, reproved, reformed, and assimi-
lated to itself the minds of others. To his preaching it gave clearness, consist-
ency, uniformity, and power; to his pastoral labours, a steady zeal that was not
carried to extravagance in periods of success, nor repressed and extinguished in
seasons of declension.
He was a man of aflfectionate kindness. The benevolence inculcated in the
Gospel he endeavoured to copy in his own heart and life. And it beamed forth
with benignity from his countenance, and conformed his words to the law of
kindness. It sweetened his social intercourse in the domestic circle and in the
circle of his friends. It spread a sweet savour over his charities to the indigent;
his instructions to the ignorant; his counsels to the serious; his consolations to
the dying and to mourners. It interested him deeply in the welfare of Zion,
and in the benevolent efforts of the age to impart the blessings of the Gospel to
a ruined world.
He was a man of peculiar sedateness and solemnity. The scenes of eternity
seemed to be deeply impressed on his mind, as the most weighty of all realities;
and as if viewing present scenes from the shores of the eternal world, he carried
with him the gravity and solemnity of a mind conversant only with objects of
high and everlasting moment. If there was any one trait more prominent in
his preaching than another, it was this — a mind impressed itself, and impress-
ing others, with a solemn awe of God and eternity. He was not bold, impetu-
ous, heart-stirring, as some; but solemnity pervaded his thoughts and his deliv-
ery, and enchained the attention of his hearers, as though he and they were
engaged in transactions of endless moment; and as though all these scenes of
time were in reality soon to give way to the perfect joys or the complete miseries
of eternity. Never can I forget the solemnity of thought and feeling with which
he addressed me, at my own ordination to the ministry. He enabled me to look
most clearly through all the scenes of my ministry, to the judgment seat of
Christ, and to feel that 1 was to preach to sinners, as if under the very thunder-
ings of that throne.
Such, I believe, were some of the most prominent traits of Dr. Elliott's char-
acter. I regret that my limited acquaintance with him does not allow me to be
more particular. Faithfully yours,
E. T. FITCH.
CALVIN CHAPIN, D. D*
1791—1851.
Calvin Chapin was a descendant, in the fifth generation, from Deacon
Samuel Chapin who came from England or Wales, was one of the early and
prominent settlers of Springfield, Mass., and, after a life of Christian activity
and usefulness, died in November, 1675. He was a son of Deacon Edward
Chapin of the same town, who was also a man of marked public spirit and
Christian worth, holding and discharging with great fidelity several impor
tant trusts, and who died in the year 1800. Calvin was the fourth of six sons,
who, with a daughter that died in childhood, composed the whole family
• Tucker's and Hawes" Sermons on his death. — MS. from Rev. L. B. Rockwood.
324 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
His mother, as well as his father, was an exemplary Christian ; and they
were both specially attentive to the religious education of their children.
This son they early set apart, in their wishes and prayers, for the Christian
ministry.
His early years were spent in labouring upon his father's farm ; and to
this was no doubt to be referred, in a great degree, the uncommon vigour
and strength of his constitution. At the age of about twenty, he com-
menced his studies in preparation for College ; but, owing to various inter-
ruptions, occasioned partly by the llevolutionary war, which, for a short
time, put his services in requisition, he did not complete his preparatory
course till the autumn of 1784. He then became a member of the Fresh-
man class in Yale College, and was, during his whole collegiate course,
distinguished for his vigorous and effective application to study. He was a
successful competitor for the Bcrkeleiau prize, commonly known at that day
as the "Dean's bounty."
Mr. Chapin graduated, one of the best scholars in his class, in 1788.
Shortly after this, he opened a school in Hartford, Conn., where he acquired
great popularity as a teacher, and spent two years in that employment.
Up to nearly the close of his engagement here, though he had been a spec-
ulative believer in the great truths of Christianity, and had been uniformly
correct in his external deportment, he had scarcely allowed himself to hope
that he had felt the power of religion as a living and abiding principle. As
he was walking one evening and indulging in solitary meditation, he was led
to dwell on the benevolence and usefulness pertaitiing to the character and
office of a Christian minister ; and he at once formed the purpose that he
would be a minister himself. About this time, he was conscious of a great
moral change, though he did not profess to be able accurately ^o trace it.
He soon commenced the study of Theology under the Rev. Dr. Perkins of
West Hartford, with whose church he connected himself. He continued
his studies some five or six months, teaching school at the same time, and
then was licensed to preach by the Hartford North Association. A few
weeks anterior to this, he had been elected a Tutor in Yale College. He
entered upon the duties of that office in the autumn of 1791, and continued
in the discharge of them, much to the satisfaction both of his pupils and of
the officers of the College, till March 1794, when he resigned his place to
take the pastoral charge of the church in llocky Hill, a parish of Wethers-
field, then vacant by the death of the llev. John Lewis.* He always
referred with great pleasure to the years of his Tutorship, not only on
account of his fondness for teaching, but on account of thfe opportunities
thereby secured to him of indulging his taste for classical and scientific
pursuits.
On the 2d of February, 1705, Mr. Chapin was married to Jerusha,
daughter of the llev. Dr. Jonathan Fdwards of New Haven. They had
three children, — one son and two daughters.
After he became a settled minister, it was soon manifest that he was
destined to exert an influence much beyond the limits of his pastoral charge.
In 1805, he was elected a Trustee of the Missionary Society of Connecticut,
• JoHK Lewis waa graduated ^ Yale College in 1770; was a Tutor there from 1773 to 1778;
was ordained minister of llocky Hill, June 28, 1781; and died April 28, 1792. Dr. Chapin,
who was his successor, says — "He was a first rate scholar and minister." He published the
substance of two Sermons, entitled '• Christian forbearance to weak consciences a duty of the
Gospel," 1789,
]
CALYIN CIIAPIN. 325
and, during the twenty-six years in which he held that office, he attended no
less than seventy-two meetings of the Board. In 1806, difficulties having
arisen in connection with the operations of the Society, especially in North-
ern Ohio, Mr. Chapiu, though the youngest member of the Board, was
appointed to visit that field, with a view to ascertain the nature of the diffi-
culties and apply the appropriate remedy. He accepted the appointment,
and performed the service allotted to him to the entire satisfaction of all
concerned. The tour was one of great interest to him ; and though it
brought under his eye much of the self-denial and hardship incident to a
missionary's life, it gave him such a sense of the importance of missionary
labour, that he afterwards remarked that if he had not already formed
engagements that could not be broken, it would be his choice to spend his
life in can-ying the Grospel to those who were destitute of it.
In 1809, betook a prominent part in the formation of the Connecticut
Bible Society. He wrote the Address by which it was introduced to the
public, and subsequently travelled extensively as an agent in its behalf.
In 1813, he was active in forming the Connecticut Society for the pro-
motion of good morals. During the few years in which that Society existed,
he was zealously devoted to its interests, and laboured for it, as he found
opportunity, both from the pulpit and through the press.
In 1810, he was one of the five distinguished individuals, who projected
and organized the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions.
He was chosen its first Recording Secretary, and continued to hold the
office for thirty-two years. He was early chosen one of the visitors of the
Theological Seminary at Andover ; and was Clerk of that Board, during
the whole fifteen years of his visitorship, which ceased by limitation, when
he attained the age of seventy. In 1816, he received the degree of Doctor
of Divinity from Union College. In 18ii0, he was elected a member of the
Corporation of Yale College, and continued one of the most prominent and
efficient members of that body, till he resigned his place in 1816.
As early as 1812, he adopted tlie principle of entire abstinence from
ardent spirits, as the only cure for intemperance. In 1826, he took a step
onward, in a series of articles pul)lished in the Connecticut Observer, in
which he maintained that the only infallible preventive or cure of drunken-
ness is to be found in total abstinence from all that intoxicates. Of this
principle he was henceforward, to the close of life, an earnest and unflinching
advocate. There is no doubt that the honour of being among the origina-
tors of the Temperance Reform in this country belongs to him.
Dr. Chapin continued to discharge the duties of his office with great
punctuality and fidelity until November, 1847, when he retired from active
service, to give his people an opportunity to choose a successor. This,
however, was not effected for nearly three years. In July, 1850, his
crowning desire in respect to the people of his charge was gratified, in the
settlement of a colleague in whose ability and fidelity he had the utmost
confidence.
Within a few weeks after the resignation of his office as sole pastor, his
wife, with whom he had lived nearly fifty-three years, was taken from him
by death. He felt the loss most deeply, but seemed soon to recover his
accustomed cheerfulness. He was always accessible and agreeable to his
friends, and had no difficulty in finding occupation both in doors and out,
that suited him. "What the habitual state of his mind was, may be gathered
326 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
from the following record concerning himself — one of the last which he evei
made: — "Having retired from every official demand abroad, without so
much as the shadow of embarrassment at home, and consequently finding
myself perfectly at leisure, I yet seem to myself never to have been in my
life so busy. My often expressed opinion is. that, notwithstanding the
decays which (though unperceived by myself) I know age is steadily pro-
ducing, I never enjoyed existence better. In my chamber I dwell as in my
paradise. Here too I am sensible that the Infinite Mind is always accessi-
ble. With that the intercourse of understanding and heart, unless the
intellectual faculties be needlessly self-deceived, cannot but give the highest
delight." In this tranquil and happy state he was found when he received
the summons to depart. He preached for the last time on the last Sabbath
in December, 1850. He attended church on the Sabbath preceding his
death ; and was well enough during the greater part of the week, to be
occupied more or less with his ordinary employments. On Friday, he was
first confined to his house ; and towards the close of the succeeding Sabbath,
(March 16, 1851,) he breathed his last in perfect peace, aged eighty-seven
years. Two Sermons were preached on the occasion of his death, one by
Dr. Tucker of Wethersfield, and one by Dr. Hawes of Hartford, both of
which were printed.
Dr. Chapin published a Sermon preached at the ordination of Samuel
Whittlesey,* 1807, and of Hosea Beckley,t 1808 ; two Sermons in the
Columbian Preacher, 1808 ; a Sermon before the Society for promoting
good morals, 1814 ; a Sermon at the funeral of President Dwight, 1817 :
a Sermon at the funeral of the Rev. Dr. Marsh, 1821.
FROM THE REV. DANIEL WALDO.
Geddes, September 21, 1851.
Dear Sir : Your request for my recollections of my friend and classmate Dr.
Chapin awakens many grateful and some sad associations. As I have entered
my ninetieth year, you will not expect from me an elaborate communication, but
I will state with pleasure a few things concerning him that most readily occur to
me.
I first knew him in the year 1784, at Somcrs, Conn., where I was associated
with him in fitting for College, under the instruction of my cousin, J)r. Charles
Backus. We were together there, some four or five months, and joined the same
class in Yale College in the autumn of 1784. We were separated for a short
time after our graduation in 1788, but were soon brought together again; and
continued in the most intimate relations, and for the most part correspondents,
until the close of his life. This will show you that it is not a superficial know-
ledge that I have of him.
When I first became acquainted with him, I think he had reached nearly the
age of twenty-one. lie was somewhat peculiar, — I may say, uncouth, in his
appearance, though it was quickly apparent that he was not lacking either in
good sense or good feeling, llis cour.se in College was not marked by any great
• Samuel Whittlesey was born in Litchfield, (South Farms,) December 18, 1775; was
graduated at Yale College in 1803; was ordained pastor of the church at New Preston, Conn.,
December 30, 1807; resigned his charge in 1817, and in April of that year became Principal of
the Deaf and Dumb Asylum at Hartford; in 1826 took charge of a Female Seminary in Canan-
daigua, N. Y.; and in 1833 became the publisher of the Mothers" Magazine in New York,
where he died April 15, 184;2.
•)• Hosea Beckley was born in Berlin, Conn, in 1780 ; was graduated at Yale College in 1803;
was ordained pastor of the church in Dummerston, Vt., March 2, 1808 ; was dismissed October
15, 1837; and died in 1843.
CALYIN CHAPIN. 327
brilliancy, and yet he had a high standing as a scholar, and had the reputation
of being a high minded and honourable man. He was not, at that time, a pro-
fessor of religion, nor do I know that his mind was particularly directed to the
subject; but hiS moral character was entirely unexceptionable. He was always
of a cheerful and even jocose turn; and I am inclined to think that this charac-
teristic increased rather than diminished with his advancing years. I remember
two or three incidents connected with College life, that may help to illustrate some
of his more prominent traits.
One of our classmates, by the name of B , had committed an offence, for
which the Faculty thought proper to pronounce upon him the sentence of expul-
sion. He heard it in the College chapel with great surprise, and instantly, being
excited into a perfect fury, he turned upon the Faculty and cursed them to their
faces. President Stiles then proceeded immediately to caution the students
against being found in the company of B , as being at once dishonourable to
themselves and injurious to the College. Most of the students, and Chapin
among the rest, considered the punishment as unreasonably severe, and were not
unwilling that the Faculty should know it. Accordingly, some eight or ten of
his classmates, the next morning, walked with him in front of the College, and
Chapin and he walked arm in arm. This was of course observed, and Chapin in
due time was called up to answer for this insult to the authority of the College
officers. It was understood that he spoke to them with great plainness, but the
only punishment he received was to be told that he must not repeat the oifence.
The kind of independence which this circumstance indicated, formed a prominent
trait in his character.
Another incident — there was at one time a great deal of gambling (playing
cards for money) in College, insomuch that it had come to be a very serious evil.
Chapin looked upon it with great disapprobation, and resolved to do what he
could to arrest it, while yet he wished to save those who were immediately con-
cerned. Accordingly, he joined the club, and allowed it to become known that he
was one of the number; the consequence of which Avas, that he was soon called
up to answer for the offence. " Chapin have you been engaged in playing cards ?"
" Yes, Sir." " Was there any thing bet ?" " Yes, Sir. " AVhat ?" " A hogs-
head of negroes." The Faculty being willing to receive this as evidence that
there was no money concerned, dropped the matter; and Chapin immediately
went to the persons composing the club, and said, "I have succeeded now in
shielding 3-ou from punishment; but if you do not quit gambling from this time,
I will never make another effort to save j^ou." The result was that the club was
effectually broken up. His principles and general feelings were always on the
side of virtue; though, sometimes, as in the case just referred to, he compassed
his object by singular means.
At the time we entered College, a most absurd and inhuman practice prevailed
of the Sophomore class, on the occasion of the falling of the first snow, challeng-
ing the Freshmen to a regular snow-balling, and sometimes they exchanged not
only snow-balls but brick-bats, and other equally dangerous missiles. It was
not uncommon, on these occasions, for persons to be seriously injured; and what
seemed a matter of sport, had really come to assume a very grave aspect.
Chapin, when lie commenced Sophomore, determined he would make every effort
in his power to abolish this semi-barbarous usage; and it was chiefly through his
instrumentality that it was actually brought to an end. He had great firmness
joined with no inconsiderable degree of tact.
In approaching Dr. Chapin, the first thing that impressed you was his good
humour and jovial disposition. Indeed I suppose that his friends all felt that
here lay his besetting infirmity, — that is, that he often indulged his jocose
remarks, when perhaps prudence would have required him to restrain them.
You quickly found that you were in contact with a person of uncommon intellect, —
328 TRINITAllIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
of quick perceptions, and no inconsidorul.lo acutcncss of discrimination. When
you saw him in the pulpit, you saw a man of rather ungainly appearance,
and of no attractive elocution, but his appropriate and ofun striking and
original tlioughts, his pithy and ponderous expressions, and gfcneral solemnity
and earnestness of manner, held your attention, and often deeply interested your
feelings, lie used the inverted style a good deal in his sermons — ]iossii>ly some-
times at the expense of the hest taste. He was well acquainted with the forms of
wclesiastical business, and his judgment in dilGcult cases, and especially in coun-
cils, was highly valued. He was a faithfid and aflectionate pastor and a warm
hearted and devoted friend. Uf this last es|)ecially, 1 can speak with great con-
fidence, after having enjoyed hia friendshii) for almost tiiree score and ten years.
1 am very truly yours,
DANIEL WALDO.
FROM THE REV. JOEL UAWES, D. D.
II.VKTFORD. October G, 1854.
My dear Sir: At the time of my settlement in the ministry hi 1818, Dr. Chapin,
concerning whom you ask for my recollections, Avas in the prime of his vigour and
usefulness. He was a member of the council that ordained me; and at that time
my acquaintance with him commenced. During the thirty-three years that
intervened between my ordination and his death, we often met in social inter-
course, and always lived in kindly and intimate ix'lations. About nine _vears
before liis death, whon a severe illness seemed likely to terminate his life, he was
pleased to designate mc to preach his funeral sermon. I consented, if I shouKl
survive him, to perform the service; and, though providentially prevented from
fulfilling my engagement in the letter of it, I actually delivered a discourse, com-
memorative of his life and character, on the fifty-.scventh anniversary of his ordi-
nation, which occurred a few weeks after his death. It costs me no ellort to
bring u[) his veneral>le image before me, or to record my recollections and impres-
sions of his character.
There is so much general resemblance in the minds and characters of even most
great and good men, that I doubt not that, in the multitude you have to deliueale,
you sometimes find it diflicult to give to each its proper individuality. Hut no
such difficulty could any one feel in attempting to describe Dr. Chapin; for if I
ever knew a man who would bo marked in a crowd, he was that man. Every
thing about him was in good keeping, and yet every thing seemed peculiar. His
personal api>earance would have impressed you, if you had met him casually as »
stranger in the street. His frame was tall, erect, and well-proiiortioned, and
indicative in its general ap[)earancc of great muscular vigour. His spirits wero
always cheerful and buoyant. His countenance was bright and animated, with-
out being otherwise specially attractive, and showed the workings of an energetic
and wakeful mind. His bodil}- movements were (juick, but very far from being
gracefiil; ami when engaged in conversation, especially that in which he was jjar-
ticularly interested, it was difficult for him to sit still. He comes up before me
now, as I used to sec him in his old arm-chair, which was one of the fixtures of
his study, taking on varied expressions of countenance, and working him.self into
all sorts of genial and ungraceful attitudes, while he was j)Ouring out his bright,
pithy, and often eminently instructive, remarks.
His mind was quick, clear, and penetrating. He .saw many things intuitively,
■vrhich most others would have to reach by a somewhat protracted mental process.
I do not think that he Mas ever much given to profound metaphysical inquiry,
but he had still great power of discrimination, and couhl run the boundary line
between truth and error with uncommon accuracy. He was an earnest and inde-
pendent inquirer after truth, and I think his mind reposed in substantially the
same system of doctrine which had been held by his venerable father-in-law, the
CALYIN CHAPIN. 329
younger President Ed-prards. Ilis mind was in a high degree practical, and he
was not very tenacious in respect to matters that he regarded of a mere specula-
tive character.
As a writer, Dr. Chapin was without a parallel; and by this I mean there was
no body like him. llisj thoughts on the most common subjects received tlie hue
of his own peculiar mind. Ilis style was dense, terse, beyond that of almost
any of his cotempornrics. Ilis thoughts, even when they were somewhat dis-
jointed, seemed often like so man}^ separate jjcarls. After the death of his wife,
he wrote concerning her — "My domestic enjoyments have been perhaps as near
perfection as the human condition permits. She made my home the pleasantest
spot to me on earth; and now that she is gone, my worldly loss is perfect '
This beautiful tribute represents faithfully, so far as it goes, both his mind and
his heart.
Dr. Chapin was always regarded as a higlily acceptable preacher. Ilis voice,
though not musical, was of sufficient power to fill any ordinary church. His
gestures consisted chiefly in the motions of liis body and head, and though made
in defiance of all rule, they were far from being ineflcctive. I cannot say that I
think his preaching generally did full justice to his intellectual powers — it was
often wanting in that continuity of thought, that oneness of object, so essential
to give to a public discourse the greatest power. Still you could not hear him
without finding your own faculties quickened, and feeling that you 'were in con-
tact with a superior mind. The best efforts from his pen to which I have ever
listened, were dissertations and reviews which he occasionally read in our minis-
ters' meetings. In these he evidently put forth liis greatest strength, and some
of them would have scarcely dishonoured a Builcr or an Edwards.
But I should give you at best a very unfinislied portrait of this venerable man,
if I M-ere to omit all reference to what was certainly one of his most striking
peculiarities, — his exuberant and boundless wit. This gave a complexion to a
large part of his conversation, — I ma3'.say, in some degree, to his whole charac-
ter. It seemed as natural to him as his breath; and even if you had regarded it
as an evil, you would have seen at onre that it was incurable. It often found vent,
I am persuaded, when he was himself uncon.scious of it, or when a moment's
reflection would certainly have repressed it. For instance, in the note which he
addressed to me, requesting me to preach his funeral sermon, tlierc was a jjlayful
expression which the most imperturbable gravity could hardly have resisted. I
miglit detail many anecdotes in respect to him, — many of his pithy and pungent
saj'ings, — but their cHect was so dependent on his peculiar manner, that they
would convey a very inadequate idea of the power in this respect which he actu-
ally pos.scssed. I Avill not dissemble my conviction that this strong original
propensity which settled into a h.abit, though it may have been an advantage to
him in some respects, was not on the whole favourable to his influence as a minis-
ter. It sometimes doubtless operated as a covering to the real and deep concern
which he felt for the spiritual Avelfare of his fellow men. He was evidently a
devout man, and lived in intimate communion with God; and you could often see
the workings of a truly spiritual mind blending themselves with the involuntary
and irrepressible sallies of his boundless good nature.
I must not omit to say that Dr. Chapin always retained and cultivated his
taste for classical studies; and his Latin and Greek books were among the com-
panions of his whole life.
Afifcctionately yours,
J. UAWES.
Viil. II. 42
330 TKIMTAUIAX CONGREGATIONAL.
GILES HOOKER COWLES, D. D.*
1791—1835.
Giles Hooker Cowles was a son of Ezekiel and Martha (Ilookor)
Cowlcs, and was born at Farniington, Conn., on the 2(3th of August, 1706.
His father was a farmer. His mother wa.s a lineal descendant from the Rev.
Thomas Hooker of Hartford. While he was yet quite a lad, he was affected
with a fever-swelling which threatened his life; aud, as the result of a
surgical consultation, it was determined that there was no iiope of saving
bis life except ])y amimtating his limb. Preparations for amputation were
accordingly made ; but he perseveringly refused to submit to it ; and it
turned out that both life and limb were saved. A lameness, however,
ensued, from which he did not recover ; and, in consequence of his beiag
thus disabled for labour on a farm, his father determined to give him a
liberal education.
Having fitted for College under the Rev. Mr. Robinson of Southington,
Conn., he joined the Sophomore class at Yale in 1786, and graduated in
1789. It was during his college life that he became hopefully pious. He
pursued the study of Theology under Dr. Jonathan Edwards of New Haven,
and was licensed to preach the Gospel, by the Western Association of New
Haven county, at Derby, in May, 1791, He laboured first, for somo time,
as a missionary in Vermont, aud received a call to settle there, which, how-
ever, he declined. In 1792, he was ordained pastor of the First Congrega-
tional church in Bristol, Conn. Here he continued eighteen years ; during
which time there were three extensive revivals in connection with his
labours, which resulted in large additions to the church.
In 1810, his pastoral relation at Bristol was dissolved, and he received
and accepted an appointment from the Connecticut Missionary Society, to
labour under their direction among the settlements then scattered through
that part of Northern Ohio, since known as "the Western Reserve." The
journey wliich he performed on horseback was not less than six hundred
miles ; three hundred of which lay through an almost pathless wilderness.
He spent six months visiting these settlements, scattered at a distance of
forty, and even fifty, miles apart, preaching every Sabbath, and, as often as
opportunity offered, during the week. He returned in the autumn of the
same year to Connecticut, after accepting a call from the united congrega-
tions of Austinburgh and Morgan, Ohio.
For about six months after his return, he was employed in preaching at
Goshen, Litchfield county. Conn.; and then (in 1811) removed with his
family, consisting of a wife and eight children, to his home in " the Far
West." It took nearly five weeks to accomplish the journey. At the time
of his installation, there were not more than ten or twelve ministers on the
Western Reserve, though there were settlements in various places through-
out the territory ; and, in consequence of this destitution of religious privi-
leges, he spent half of his time as a missionary of the Connecticut
Missionary Society, in forming new churches and preaching to those which
were without a stated ministry. These journeys were often performed at
great hazard and with extreme difficulty ; though he generally met a cordial
• MS. from his daughter and the Rev. Noah Porter, D. D.
J
GILES HOOKER COWLES. 33}
welcome, and a large share of wholc-soulod but homely hospitality. He
continued thus to devote half his time to missionary labour, until wiiliinsix
months of his death, — a period of mon; than twenty-two years ; and, during
the whole time, never failed but once of fultilling an appointment ; and that
was on the occasion of the death of a beloved son. He formed or assisted
in forming most, if not all, of the Congregational churches in the North
Eastern part of Ohio ; and he ministered to them with signal fidelity. He
had been afflicted with scrofula during nearly his whole life, which finally
gave place to dropsy, the disease of which he died. He preached for the
last time at Andover, Ohio, in March 1835, and died at Austinburgh on the
6th of July following, aged sixty-nine years. His funeral sermon was
preached by the Rev. Henry Cowles.
The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by Williams
College in 1823.
He was married in February, 1793, to Sally, daughter of Lebbeus White,
of Stamford, Conn. She was a lady of great intellectual and moral force,
of high accomplishments, and of earnest, active piety. She died on the 1st
of August, 1830, aged fifty-six. They had nine children, — five sons and
four daughters.
FROM THE REV. HEMAN HUMPHREY, D. D.
PiTTSFiELD, June 15, 1854.
Dear Sir: From my early childhood I remember Mr. Cowles as one of the
ministers, whom my own minister used, occasionally, by exchange, to bring into
our pulpit. In later years, I became well acquainted with him, and met him
frequently until he left this part of the country to make his home in the then
"Far West."
His personal appearance did little justice to the character of his mind. lie
was rather small in stature, had not a strongly marked countenance, and was
somewhat embarrassed in his loco-motion by the partial contraction of a limb.
In his private intercourse, he was social and pleasant, though constitution-
ally rather grave. He was amiable, but inflexibly true to his convictions of
right. His religious principles were evidently deep and strong, and exerted
habituallj' a controlling influence over his conduct.
His mind was cast in a superior mould — it was acute, discriminating, and
logical; and these characteristics constantly came out in his sermons. He
always showed himself " a workman that needs not to be ashamed." He was
not exclusively doctrinal, nor exclusively practical, in his preaching; but he com-
bino<l both in due proportions; showing at once what the truth is, and what
its l)earings are upon the heart and life. His manner in the pulpit was neither
striking nor animated; his voice was rather feeble and had little flexibility;
his gestures few and not particularly impressive; and his style, though per-
spicuous and accurate, quite devoid of ornament; but there was a force and
vigour in his thoughts and an admirable fitness in their arrangement, which
made it difficult for an intelligent person to sit listless under his preaching. In
prayer he was devotional and solemn, but not very fluent. His sermons were,
I believe, always written, and I am inclined to think that he had no great
facility at extemporizing. He had a mind wliicli could not submit to indolent
repose; and hence I believe he was always a diligent student. His three sermons
on Baptism, published in 1802, which arc perhaps the best monument of his
talents that remains, could never have been produced by any other than a richly
endowed and thoroughly disciplined mind. He undoubtedly held a place among
the more able ministers of his time. Sincerely yours.
H. HUMPHREY.
332 TRINITARIAJ^ CONGREGATIONAL.
ASAIIEL STRONG NORTON, D. D *
17i)2— 1853.
AsAiiEL Strong Nuuton, the son of Ichabod and Ruth (Strong)
Norton, was born in Fannint^ton, Conn., in September, 1765. He belonged
to a highly re.spectalilo laniily , ami his father served as Colonel in the war
of the Revolution, He jiursiicd his studios preparatory to untoring Collogo
under the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Nathan Perkins of West Hartfu-rd. Theso
studies wore interrupted during the war, but were afterwards resumed and
completed, so that he became a member of Yale College ip 1786. Having
maintained through his whole course the highest standing in his class, he
graduated with the first honour in 179U.
louring his Senior year in College, his mind became deeply impressed with
the subject of religion, in consequence of which, ho determined to devoto
himself to the service of his Redeemer in the ministry of the (jospd. He
prosecuted his theological studies under the direction partly of his relative,
the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Strong of Haddam, and partly of the Rev. (after-
wards Dr.) Smalley of Berlin. On completing his theological course in
17U-, he was licensed to ]>reaeh the Gospel by the Association of Hartford
county. A Congregational church having boon organized a short time
before in Clinton, N. Y., by the Rev. Dr. Edwards of New Haven, Mr.
Norton, upon Dr. E.'s recommendation, was invited in October of that year
to preach to them as a candidate for settlement: he accepted the invitation,
and on the 25th of March, 1793, received a call to become their pastor.
Though the country was new, and the field of labour in some respects diffi-
cult, and by no means so attractive as other places which his superior
talents and acquirements might doubtless have enabled him to command, he
felt constrained by considerations of duty to accept the call, and he was
accordingly set apart to the pastoral office, in September following.
Among the ministers who composed the council were the two missionaries
to the Indians in that neighbourhood, — Kirkland ami Sargeant. No house
of wor.-hip having yet been erected, and no other building in the settlement
being large enough to accommodate the expected assemblage, provision was
made for holding the exercises in the open air, on the village green. A
temporary pulpit was constructed, over which was thrown a canopy of green
boughs to screen the speakers from the heat of the sun. A few seats were
prepared for the accommodation of females, l)ut the greater part of the
congregation stood up during the exercises. The gathering was quite large,
composed of all the inhabitants of the village, and of many persons from
the surrounding towns.
Mr. Norton now addressed himself to his work as a Christian minister with
great vigour and earnestness ; and under his faithful and i>ersevering labours,
he was permitted to see the church of which he took the charge in its
infancy, rise into one of the most flouri>hing and efficient churches in Central
and Western New York. He ]ireachcd the Gospel in season and out of
season, in school houses and barns, and in the open woods. — counting no
sacrifice dear that might subserve the interests of Christianity in that
•Independent, 1853.— MS. from the Rev. A. D. Gridley.
ASAIIEL STRONG NORTON. 333
sparsely settled territory. He preached upwards of three thousand sermons
durintr his ministry, — more than half of which were carefully written out
in full and delivered from his manuscript.
In 1810, he received tho degree of Doctor of Divinity from Union
College.
In No /ember, 1833, after having remained pastor of the church nearly
forty years, he was dismissed at his own request from his ministerial charge.
Several circumstances contributed to this result, the most important of
which probably was, that the new measures, as they were then termed, in
connection with revivals, had been introduced among his people, and as he
found it impossible either to resist or control them, he preferred to resign his
charge rather than seem to be identified with a state of things, which he
thought adverse to the stability and prosperity of the church. lie retired
with the most dignified and Christian spirit, and contrary to the wishes of
a considerable portion of his congregation.
After this, he devoted himself almost wholly to the care of his farm, on
which he had already resided many years. He continued to cherish a warm
attachment to the people to whom he had so long ministered, uniting
fr^'(|uently with the pastors who succeeded him, in the administration of the
Lord's Supper, baptizing the children of parents whom he had baptized
in their infancy, and attending funerals until he at length followed to
the grave the last of those who composed the church at the time of his
ordination.
Dr. Norton was an earnest friend to the cause of education, and was ever
on the alert to forward any measures in aid of a higher tone of intellectual
culture. He was one of the founders' of Hamilton College, situated in the
midst of his pastoral charge, which went into operation in the year 1812 ;
and he was appointeil to deliver the Latin Address at the inauguration of its
first President, the Rev. Dr. Backus. He was a member of the Corpora-
tion of the College from its beginning till 1833, and was deeply interested
in its fortunes as long as he lived.
Dr. Norton gradually sunk under the infirmities of age. During his last
year, he was subject to occasional attacks of a painful disease, which gradu-
ally reduced his strength, though he was confined to his house but a few
weeks previous to his death. The manner of his death was such as could
have been desired for him. He passed away without any apparent bodily
distress, calmly trusting in the Saviour, and cheered by those consolations
which, during a long ministry, it had been his privilege to ofi"er to others.
He died on the lUth of May, 18.53, aged eighty-seven. His funeral sermon
was preached by the Rev. Dr. Vermilye of Clinton.
On the 19th of January, 1795, he was married to Mary Clap, daughter
of the Rev. Timothy Pitkin of Farmington, Conn., and sister of the Hon.
Timothy Pitkin, the distinguished historian of the United States. They
had eight children, one of whom, Hcnrij P., was graduated at Hamilton
College in 1828, and entered the profession of Law. Mrs. Norton died
September 11, 1839, aged sixty-nine.
FROM THE REV. A. D. GRIDLEY.
Clinton. N. Y.. March 3. 1866.
Dear Sir: My acquaintance with Dr. Norton dates back to chiMhood. I was
baptized by him in infancy, and sat under his preaching during my youth. Since
334 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATlOxNAL.
then I have often heard him oflBciate at funerals and at Communion seasons, and
have frequently visited with him by his own fireside and at social gatherings
among the people of his late charge. And I have taken pains to compare my
views of his character with those of older men, who knew him intimately in tho
days of his prime.
In person, Dr. Norton was of medium stature and well proportioned. His
complexion was rather dark, his eyes and hair black, his voice rich and melodious.
<4uick in his movements, he was yet dignified and graceful, and possessed in all
respects the manners of a true gentleman. To some he may have seemed a little
reserved; for he seldom unbent himself in general society; rarely indulged in
witticisms, or jokes, or loud laughter. Yet this proceeded from no want of amia-
bility or cheerfulness, but rather from a fear lest he should offend in word or
deed, and from a high sense of the solemnity and dignity of his office as a minister
of the Gospel. In the early years of his ministry, liis health was quite feeble; so
much so, that many of his friends thought him verging to a decline; but by much
exercise out of doors and in farm work, walking and riding on horseback, he
became more vigorous and enjoyed firm health unto a good old age. As he was
somewhat noted for his pedestrianism during his whole life, I once asked him
how he came to adopt the practice. lie replied, " Shortly after I began to preach,
I was reading a volume of travels in Italy, in which the writer said that, while
sojourning in Rome, he noticed Catholic Priests walking out daily into the sub-
urbs of the city to a certain milestone, and then returning. They told him that
this had been their practice for many years, and that they were indebted to it for
their uninterrupted health. It occurred to me at once," said Dr. Norton, " that
a Protestant might lawfully learn a lesson of physical regimen from a Catholic, —
even though he abjured his spiritual doctrines and rules. I determined to try
what virtue there might be in walking, and finding the practice very beneficial to
my health,have persisted in it to this day."
He is known to have walked from Clinton to Paris Hill, a distance of five miles,
to fulfil an appointment to preach. He uniformly walked from his farm house to
the church, a mile and a half distant, to attend his Sabbath evening lectures.
He did tliis from choice, — walking while his horse stood idle in his stable. I met
him one morning at his physician's door, and remarking that he looked somewhat
feeble, he replied that he had not been well for a few days past, and thought he
M^ould come over and get a little medicine. His cane and dusty shoes showed
that he had walked a mile and a half to see his Doctor!
In accordance with the custom of that day, Dr. Norton purchased a farm at an
early period of his ministry, on which he laboured as opportunity permitted, and
the produce of wliich helped to make up the deficiencies of his salary. He was
much interested in the introduction of new varieties of grains and improved sorts
of fruits. "Whenever he visited New England," saysoneof his parishioners, "he
came back with new seeds and grafts, and then went about among his people and
taught them the art of engrafting." It is believed that he first gave that impulse to
orcharding in this region, which has made Oneida county so pre-eminent in this
State for its culture of fruit.
Turning now to speak of the intellectual character of Dr. Norton, I would say
that he possessed a good mind, well balanced, and happily developed by liberal
studies. He was clear in his perceptions and accurate in his reasonings. Though
not gifted with remarkable philosophical and logical powers, he could present the
argument of any subject with ability; and though not highly imaginative, he could
adorn his speech with the grace of a finished rhetoric.
Of his moral and religious character, it is not too much to say that he lived
alx)ve reproach, and beautifully exemplified the graces of a sincere piety. He
was a man of great modesty and humility, simplicity and purity. He was par-
ticularly careful in the use of his tongue. Seldom was he betrayed into the indul-
ASAHEL STRONG NORTON. 335
gence of evil passion, and still less often did his lips give expression to it. He
rarely spoke disparagingly of others: when he could say nothing in their favour,
he was silent, except when duty compelled him to speak. He lived an uprighl
life. By the testimony of all who knew him, even his enemies, if indeed he had
enemies, he was a good man. His Christian character exhibited itself rather lu
the form of high religious principle than that of excited feeling. Christ was the
only foundation of his hope, and he felt assured that it was a firm foundation.
His piety was uniform, — never flashing like the meteor, and then disappearing,
but shining on from day to day, or from year to year, with the serene and steady
light of the stars.
His character as a preacher may perhaps be inferred from what has already
been said of him in other respects. His voice was not powerful, nor was his
action bold or striking; there was nothing in his elocution to attract attention to
itself. His manner was simple, easy, dignified, impressive. His style as a writer
corresponded to his manner as a speaker. It was marked by simplicitj', jaurity,
and correctness. If it was formed upon any model, it was the Addisonian. Often
it was enlivened by metaphors, antitheses, and other figures of speech; it
was sometimes enriched by classical allusions; sometimes it rose to lofty eloquence;
but its leading characteristic was simple elegance. He was a sober man, and he
aimed to present sober views of all subjects. If he did not startle his hearers, he
seldom failed to interest and instruct them. His Theology was Calvinism, as
expounded by Edwards and Bellamy. He was a doctrinal preacher, yet he did
not fail to inculcate often and earnestly the duties of religion. He had no hobbies,
but aimed to exhibit a just and rounded view of all the truths of the Bible. As a
pastor, he was systematic and faithful in visiting his people from house to house,
especialh' the sick and the afBieted.
From this view of his life and character it is not surprising that his ministry
was a successful one. There was a steady accession to his church, from the
beginning to the close of his pastorship. He was blessed with several seasons of
special religious awakening among his people. He was instrumental in building up
one of the largest churches in central New York.
Dr. Norton's only publication was an Historical Sermon, which he suflfered to
be printed not without great reluctance. He was wonder fully, sensitive to criti-
cism, and refused many requests to publish sermons. After preaching the His-
torical Sermon above mentioned on a Thanksgiving day, a leading member of his
church arose and moved that, as the sermon contained important historical facts,
as well as excellent moral reflections, a copy be requested for publication. The
vote was unanimous. While this gentleman was putting the motion. Dr. Norton
was so embarrassed and overcome, that he got up, seized his manuscript, and
hurried out of the church bareheaded, forgetting his hat until he got out of doors.
After much entreaty, he consented to the publication; but as it was the first, so
also it was the last.
After resigning his pastoral charge, he still maintained his habits of bodily
and intellectual activity. His eye and his hand were busy in his orchard and
in his fields. Evea to his old age he continued to be a great walker; walking a
mile and a half to the post ofiice, to the church, and sometimes much farther to
attend funerals. In his eighty-fifth year, he was seen at the top of one of his
apple trees, gathering apples. He continued also his scholarly habits. His
library was his favourite resort, and Theology his favourite study. He also kept
himself informed in the literature and general news of the day. When, at length,
his eyesight failed, he employed some member of his household to read aloud to
him. The people of his late charge continued to pay him a visit every winter,
bringing with them substantial tokens of their continued regard. At these
gatherings he was wont to make remarks; sometimes recalling the history of his
connection with this people; sometimes exhorting them to increased activity in
ii36 TKIMTAIUAN CONGKEGATIONAL.
religious duty; ami always assuring them of his continued love for the church,
aud his desire and prayer for their temporal and si)iritual welfare. And so his
later years passed away, cheered liy tlie recollection of a long life of active use-
fuloess, aud by the blessed hope of au endless life in Heaven.
Very respectfully yours,
A. D. GRIDLEY.
WILLIAM JACKSON, D. D *
1793—1842.
William Jackson was a son of Abraham and Eleanor B. Jackson,
aud was born in Cornwall, Conn., December 14, 1708. In early childhood,
he removed with his father and family to the town of Walliugford, Vt. At
the age of sixteen, his mind became deeply and permanently impressed witli
religious truth, and about the same time he commenced a course of study
preparatory for College. This he prosecuted partly at an Academy in Nor-
wich, Vt., and partly at Moor's Charity School, Hanover, N. II. He
became a member of Dartmouth College in 178G, and was graduated in
1790, at the age of twenty-one.
After leaving College, he was engaged for a while as Principal of a
school in Wethersfield, Conn., and it was during his residence here that he
matured the purpose of devoting himself to the Christian ministry. Accord-
ingly, on resigning his charge of the school, he commenced the study of
Theology, availing himself successively of the instructions of Doctor-
Spring and Emmons. He was licensed to preach by the Meudon Associa-
tion, on the 4th of June, 1793. He then returned to Vermont to visit hi^
friends ; and on his way passed a Sabbath at Dorset, which was at that time
a vacant parish. His preaching awakened great interest ; a general desire
was expressed among the people that he should become their pastor ; and a
call was ma<le out for him. His health being at this time precarious, h(
thought it his duty to decline the call ; and shortly after travelled South
aud preached for a season in New Jersey, where he was likewise invited to
take charge of a congregation. After about three years, circumstances led
him to return to Dorset, when the invitation which had prenously been
extended to him was renewed, and with such heartiness and unanimity that
he did not feel at liberty to decline it. He was accordingly ordained pastor
of the church and congregation of Dorset and East Rupert, September 27,
1796.
He was elected a member of the Corporation of Middlebury College in
1801, and continued not only to hold the office, but to discharge its duties,
with great punctuality ami fidelity, till the close of life. He was honoured
with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the same College in 1x39.
In the autumn of 1><37, his health, which was never otherwise than
feeble, had so far declined that he requested of his people either that they
wouhl allow him to resign his pastoral charge, or would provide a colleague
to share it with him. They chose the latter; and, accordingly, the Rev.
•Wickham'a Fnn. Serm. — MS. fromono of his frienda.
WILLIAM JACKSON. 33'J'
Ezra Jones who had been previously settled in Greenfield, N. H. , was
installed as co-pastor in December, lb38. Dr. Jackson preached for the
last tiiue in November, 1841.
lu September, lS4l', his health began rapidly to decline, and after a few
weeks signalized by patient endurance and triumphant hope, his earthly
career was closed. He died October 15, 1842. llis funeral sermon was
preached by the Rev. Joseph Wickham, Principal of the IJurr Seminary,
Manchester, and was published.
In the winter of 1797, Mr. Jackson was married to Susannah, only child
of Samuel and Margaretta Cram, of Brentwood, N. H., — a lady distin-
guished alike for her intellectual endowments, her personal accomplishments,
and her Christian graces. They had seven children, two of whom died in
infancy. One sou, Samuel Cromwell, was graduated at Middlebury Col-
lege in 1821, entered the ministry — was for several years minister of the
ihurch in the West Parish of Andover, Mass., and is now (1854) connected
with the Massachusetts Board of Education. He received the degree of D.
D. from Middlebury College in 1849.
FROM THE REV. JOHN MALTBY, D. D.
Bangor, Me., December 24, 1850.
Dear Sir: You ask of me a paper of recollections of the Rev. Dr. Jackson
late of Vermont. You do it, I suj)pose, on the ground of my having sustained
towards him, for many years, the relation of a son-in-hiw. It is quite rca.sona-
hle for you to presume that I was acquainted with him. I was so. But that
very acquaintance makes me hcskate to comply with your wi.shcs. I knew
enough of the man to know that 1 cannot set him before you. I cannot make
you either see him out of the jmlpit, or heoT him in it. Ills per.son, his face, his
voice, his manner, in all of which there were the strong and etlaceless lines of
kindness, dignity, intelligence, and power, were his own. Thej' were less trans-
feral)le, less capable of being copied, than those of almost any other man I have
known.
ULs mind was of a high order. Ilis tlioughts were quick, just, pungent, dis-
criminating, sagacious, profound. Hence his conversation was animating, his
preaching instructive, his opinions prudent, and his advice, on matters of impor-
tance or of difficulty, valuable. Ue would foresee good or presage evil, whero
most men would catch no foresliadowings of either. In the company of Dr.
Jack.son, it was impo.ssible for you not to feel easy and familiar. At the same
time, you would feel that if you were not wisely circumspect, 3'our exposed
points would certainly be seen — perhaps hit.
His moral tone was high. A more pure-minded man rarely visits tlie worhl.
There was in his character an inflexible uprightness. It .seemed constitutional
as well as Christian. To do right was to be happy. In any ca.sc of complicated
and clashing interests, if he could so analyze the matter as to get hold of " right,""
the .sparkling diamond was in his hand. To him all else was husk. " Y'ou "
and " I," " your's " and "mine," were only scaffolding, — the theatre constructed
of God, for the unfolding and exhibition of that priceless gem. Hence, not high-
handed villainies only, but all pctt}' delinquencies, were htimiliating to his mind
They alllictcd him. He frowned when he saw them. Where truth and upright-
ness filled the atmosphere, tliere he loved to breathe.
His piety was consistent and constant. No under-current, arising froiu indis-
cretions, countervailed his efforts to do good. No man ever thought of saying to
him, "Cast out first the beam out of thine own eye." His iiniformity w;is
rentiirkablo. Periodical dcadness never suffered opportunities of usefulness to
Vol.. 11
338 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
escape his haiul. lie loved revivaLs. His ministry was blessed with many. Dut
it did not ruquirc tlie excitement and the solemnity of a revival to keej) him nt
the footstool. Prostrate there ujxjn his face he often lay. To be religious was
not merely to i»e excited. The "earthciiiake" and the " wind " were not to his
heart the place of power. To be reHgious was to be holy, personally, spiritually
holy. " Enoch wallceil willi God." The passage is forced upon my thoughts as
strikingly descriptive of his piety and character.
His pulpit always bore the aspect of an impressive and deep solemnity. His
sermons were logical, coherent, convincing, opening to appeals the most earnest
and irresistible. The solemnity tliat reigned about him was peculiar. It was a
matter of principle witii him never to create a smile in the pulpit. But his solem-
nity' was not repulsive. Men were not awed away by it; they were attracted
rather. His pulpit was an attractive pLacc. Throughout his congregation, every
thing seemed convergent to that, as the point of central interest. In prayer, ho
seemed near to (jod. You felt, as he proceeded, that eternal things were in
sight. His utterance was deliberate, solemn, earnest, urgent, full, as if coming
from irrejircssible j'earnings within. The special occasion, whenever called to it.
he compassed so pertinently, so minutely, so completely, that in hearing and unit-
ing, you became lost to every thing but the realities his prayer called up before
you. Family prayer was wont to be varied, fresh, sententious, edifying. Said a
stranger once present at morning worshij), " It was worth a journey to Dorset to
hear that prayer."
Witli his strong mind, in a l)ody too frail to bear its action, the day of case
he almost never knew. Suffering was the companion of his life. Open his study
door on Saturday, and often you might find him with his feet in his chair,
sitting upon his heels, his arms resting upon his knees, and his throbbing head
between his hands, constructing arguments and preparing truth for the benefit
of his people. And on the morrow, under frailties enough to lay him on his
pillow, — supporting himself by the sides of his pulpit, he would give utte-
rance to his thoughts with an earnest sincerity and self-forgetting simplicity,
carrying his audience wherever the nature of his subject might lead. Thus he
once preached a sen?) on in my pulpit from the passage, " Deliver my soul from
t.he wicked, from men of the world, which have their portion in tliis life, and
whose l)elly thou lillest with thy hid treasure." And before he had done, he
seemed like one fleeing to Heaven, out of universal chaos, and taking his hearers
with him. Said one on the way to our evening meeting, " I hardly knew Mhether
I was in the body or out of the body. I saw his whole person tremliling aTid
shaken by the action of his mind and heart; and feeling like one lifted up from
t|ie earth, I said to my.self, — 'j'our wings are almost grown'." In his ca.se, as in
the case of Robert Hall, Aveakness and pain .seemed to minister stimulants to the
soul, giving it an unwonted energy, and rousing it to appeals, which otherwise
might be looked for in vain.
As a pastor, he dealt with great plainness and fidelity. He cared tenderly
for the poor. Tiie ignorant he laboured to instruct. The irregular he would
" exhort with all long-suffering and doctrine," and if need be, " rebuke with all
authority." I think it very rare that you find so much amenity of spirit and
suavity of manners, along with the habit of uniformly rebuking sin. A rude
thing he seemed incapable of doing; j-ct, if sin came in his way, whether among
(he rich or the poor, the uncultivated or the fasliionable, he had but one rule to
go by; and that was to meet it with relmke and correction. He must deal with
it faithfully, i)lainly, or go liome, as he would most significantly say, "with a
ragged conscience." Passing the night in the family of a wealthy merchant, he
found that family Avorship Avas uniformly omitted in the morning, save on thv
Sabbath. Tlie claims of a pressing business left no room for it. Before leavii^L'.
he requested a private intervicAv; and from that time the neglect ceased.
WILLIAM JACKSON. 339
Careful church discipline he held to be a primary matter. He maintained it
tpith vigilance and wisdom. Notwithstanding the diflicult and critical nature
of the work, he was remarkably successful in it. lie would carry his points,
and produce conviction and confession, in cases that seemed incorrigible. The
result would be an affectionate confidence. " Faithful," the recovered offender
would say, " are the wounds of a friend." Dr. Jackson's idea was this, — "God
will have a testimony in Zion against sin, and if the church will not maintain
it herself, He will interpose and set it up. But in that case it may be expected
to be terribly at her expense." One of his sermons on this subject was so
full, reaching so effectually the merits of the whole matter, that Dr. Porter of
the Andover Seminary, and others, urged him to let it go to the press. His
characteristic diflBdence, his impracticable ideal, prevented.
His interest in Christian missions was strong. Here he saw the work of the
church, — the business on her hands. In a silent but effectual way, he was a
leader in this work. He prayed like Jacob, laboured like Paul, gave like the
widow. During a ride Avith him, which I well remember, he surveyed this
wide and varied field; and he seemed to me like a man, foreseeing the things
that were to come to pass in the last days. Glancing from one organization
to another, he bj' and bj' said, — '' And there is the great matter of "African Colo-
nization, which, as it bears on Africa, on the slave trade, on slavery, on the
coloured people in this country, on the coloured race, and on the world, as
aflfected by that race, is second to none, and one day will be seen to be second
to none, of the enterprises now on the hands of the church." His last and
largest gift to the cause of missions w^as his youngest daughter, Mrs. Hamlin-
at Constantinople.
Ilis habits, as to sanctifying the Sabbath, were rare. All within his gates
must duly honour the day. Worldly and trifling conversation might not then
be had. It was the call of mercy only, not of secular necessity, that might be
heard. " In earing time and harvest thou shalt rest." On one occasion, his
parishioners made him a field of wheat in offset of delinquent items in his
salary. When the sickle had passed tiirough it, a week of rain followed. The
next Sabbath was a shining day. From his door, as he was going to the servi-
ces of the afternoon worship, he chanced to see that his Avhcat was all opened to
the sun. With a burdened heart and an anxious countenance, he turned to his
family and asked, " What shall I do .'' It has been done in kindness no doubt,
but I cannot let it pass." At the appointed hour, all were in their seats.
Having ascended the pulpit, he accredited them fully for an intended kindness,
and then took up " the burden of the Lord " against them. And so sincere and
just was he, that conviction and silence was the result.
In the day of trial he was an example for all. His patient, uncomplaining
spirit rested, like the needle, amid niglit and storm. Steadfast to his purpose,
that the ministry be not blamed, and by all means to save some, he endured
hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. With a small salary, paid only
in part, and that poorly, he suffered gre;itly at times in respect to support for
his family. A friend once suggested that he owed his distinction as a preaclier and
a scholar — for he was a scholar in the classic sense — to hi.s small pari.sh, and
the better opportunity he thus had to be a student. But that friend little knew
that his embarrassments from inadequate support cramped his time antl his
spirit far more than a larger charge could have done. Often he tried unsuccess-
fully to sell his salary for a cash payment in advance of two hundrol dollars.
" I'm cut np," said he, " into schoolma.ster, farmer, mechanic, husband, father,
and minister; and the minister is the smallest ])iere."
Wh}' did he settle in Dorset, and Mhy continue there ? It was not that he might
lake care of himself. 7\) be usrful was the great idea of his life. " Rememljer,"
said he to a daughter, as she was about stopping into a carriage for her new home
340 TRI^^ITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
" Remember all you can get out of life is usefulness." On that principle he acted
He adopted Western Vermont as the object of his benevolent aspirations. To
establish an evangelical and high tone in the ministry and in the churches, and
thus elevate and save the community in the infancy of its settlement, was his aim.
He settled where he did, not because other and more eligible places were not open
to him. He had a call from New Jersey, while supplying the pulpit at Dorset.
But his design held him to Vermont. Once established there, he drew able men
around him. He patronized education, — receiving young men into his family and
iitting them for College. Under his preaching and influence, his small parish, it
is said, produced as many graduates from College as the whole county besides.
When Middlebury College was planned, he was there, — the intimate adviser of
the men whose funds lie at the foundation of that Institution, and the first elected
member of the Corporation. Said Dr. Bates, while President of that College,
" If I wanted a thing done, I would enlist Dr. Jackson in it." With his eye
upon the existing and prospective wants of the new settlements, he originated the
Vermont Evangelical Society, already alluded to, to supply competent ministers;
and this Society helped some fifty young men into the ministry before any Educa-
tion Society came to their assistance. He was the confidential adviser of Mr.
Joseph Burr of Manchester; and his views prevailed with that gentlemen to leave
a legacy of twelve thousand dollars to Middlebury College, and another of ten
thousand dollars to found the Seminary which now bears his name in the place
where he resided.
As a public man. Dr. Jackson's wisdom was highly valued and extensively
sought. Many have been the difficulties and perplexities which it has fallen to
his lot to resolve; and long will it be before the effects of his life and labours in
Western Vermont will disappear. He was always young. He died young at
seventy-four. He would have been young at ninety. Said Dr. Porter, late of
Andover, the companion of his youth, and particular friend in College, " He is
the only minister of his age who has kept up with the times." His mental enter-
prise and panting for progress never left him.
His last sickness was attended with impressive incidents. Every thing was
marked with calmness. " I am here, waiting upon God — in the hands of the
Lord — a good place — for the consolidated universe I would not be any where else."
His self-renunciation was deep. " In me dwelleth no good thing." His reliance
on Christ was entire. " My history must be — a great sinner saved by grace."
" Say to them, an aged sinner asks their prayers," was his word to the General
Convention of Vermont, then in session — " commend my love to them. I have
thought much of late of the prayers of Zion; tell them I want them to remember
my family, to take them and carry them along through the world." When called
upon by one and another of his brethren in the ministry, he kept the door of his lips
with great caution and self-distrust. " I have Vjeen thinking much," said he to
one, "that God requircth truth in the inward parts." Said the brother, "we
want you to glorify God by rejoicing in him." He instantly replied, " I don't
want to make any plan for a death-bed experience. I'm afraid I shall say things
because I have been accustomed to say them. I want the Holy Spirit to speak
with my voice and my heart."
One of the tenderest scenes, aside from the domestic circle, occurred in a visit
from his oldest deacon. This deacon was the agent in getting him to Dorset, had
stood by him throiigh his whole ministry, and was now ninety -two years old.
Their conversation, reminiscences, and anticipations, cannot be put on paper. At
length, the aged saint got down upon his knees by the bedside to pray. The past
came up, and then the future, and the dark passage that leads to it. His utte-
rances were remarkable. " Lord, we remember how we have felt when we have
heard the word from his lips — how often it has been with power — how sinners
have been pricked in their hearts, and asked ' what must we do to be saved,' —
|i
WILLIAM JACKSON. 34X
how they have been awakened and converted, and what numbers have been brought
into thy Kingdom. Lord, we fear thou art about to take away our head. We
don't deserve him; we don't deserve so great a blessing. But, Lord, we don't
know how to spare him now. Lord, we need his prayers. Lord, if Thou art
about to take him away, be with him in the dark valley. It's a dreadful place
there are lions there — there are wicked, malignant spirits there — take him by
the hand, lead him; don't let go of him a moment; but lead him safely through.
* * * And then, oh, the glories that are beyond — the scenes that will open
to his view — Jesus, the Mediator, tae Lamb of God — saints and angels — the
multitude of the heavenly host, worshipping, and adoring, and praising the
Almighty God. * * * But, Lord, what will become of us — thy church and
people .'' We are in a deplorable condition, — cold, and stupid, and divided, and
don't see alike about another teacher. We want a tall man; Lord, send us a Uttle
man — send us a little David."
Thus by the side of his dying pastor, he lived life over, went with him down
the dark valley, came out amid the glories of Heaven, looked back upon a bereaved
church, and asked for them a teacher with Elijah's mantle.
Yours truly,
J. MALTBT.
ELIJAH WATERMAN.^
1793—1825.
Elijah Waterman, son of Nehemiah and Susanna (Isham) Waterman,
was born at Bozrah, Conn., November 28, 1769. His father was a magis-
trate, and distinguished for his patriotism during the Revolutionary war.
-He delivered an Oration on the death of Washington, which was published.
Both his parents were profes^^ors of religion, and his mother particularly
was distinguished for her biblical knowledge, and her attachment to the
Assembly's Catechism.
He spent his early years labouring upon his father's farm ; but he exhi-
bited, even in childhood, great precocity of mind, as was evinced by the fact
that he had read Milton's Paradise Lost, several times, before he was nine
years old. In the autumn of 1784, he entered a public school at Norwich,
then under the instruction of Mr. (afterwards the Rev.) Stanley Grriswold,
with a view to prepare for College. He was admitted a member of Yale
College in October, 1787. But, owing to his previous excessive application
to study, he was afflicted during his college course with inflamed eyes, and
for a part of the time was entirely dependant on the rehearsals of his room-
mate for a knowledge of his lessons. He graduated an excellent scholar in
the year 1791. He subsequently delivered two Orations before the Phi
Beta Kappa Society — one in 1792, the other in 1809.
In May previous to his graduation, he took charge of a select school in
Wethersfield, Conn.; and in October following, became the head of a simi-
lar school at Hartford, in which he continued until March, 1792. It was
his intention, when he left College, to pursue the study of Law ; but, dur-
ing his short residence at Wethersfield, his mind received a religious direc-
* Tyler's Hist. Serm. — MS. from his son.
342 T^J^'1TARIA^' congregational.
tion from hearing ouo of his pupils recite in the Greek Testament, the
passage — " We know that His testimony is true ;" and in consequence of
this he determined to enter the ministry. Accordingly, in June, 1792, he
commenced the study of Theology under the direction of Dr. Dwight, then
at Greenfield Hill. He subsequently continued his studies under Dr.
Jonathan Edwards of New Haven, being, at the same time, a private tutor
in the family of Judge Chauncey.
He was licensed to preach in Preston, Conn., in May, 1793, and preached
his first sermon at Southington, in June. He continued his studies in New
Haven, preaching' as an occasional supply in the neighbouring churches,
until 1794. In April of that year, he went to preach as a candidate at
Windham, and, on the 1st of October following, was ordained pastor of the
church in that place. The ordination sermon was preached by the Kev.
Dr. Dana of New Haven.
Mr. Waterman's connection with this church continued during a period
of ten years. The circumstances which led to his removal are thus set
forth by one of his successors, the Kev. J. E. Tyler, in an Historical Dis-
course preached in 1850: —
'' Before he left Windham, he found himself in the midst of enemies. His doctrine
gave offence to some. And the oflPence the doctrine in itself occasioned, was aggra-
vated by the fearlessness and the ability with which he maintained it. Then again, his
practical discourses were received with as much dislil<e, by a certiiin part of liis con-
gregation, as his doctrinal. He preached on the duties of individuals in all the relations
of life; on the duties of magistrates as well as those in a more humble condition.
In other words, he did what a conscientious and independent minister might reasonably
be expected to do, in the way of preacliing — that is, to reprove men for the very sins
of which they are guilty, and admonish and exhort them to forsake them. To all this
he also added an oflence of conduct, wliicli, with some persons, created greater dissatis-
faction, than any wliich arose from Iiis pulpit performances. He made complaint to
the magistrate against a company of individuals, for the violation of the law then exist-
ing in Connecticut, prohibiting " all servile labour and vain recreation" on Fast days
and Thanksgivings. Those who, for their pleasure, went rabbit-hunting on Fast day.
with all safety but for Mr. Waterman, were not satisfied with the further pleasure of
paying the fines by law i^rescribed, through his instrumentality. Quite a portion of the
society conspired to remove him after the manner which had been attempted in relation
to his predecessor. They '' lodged certificates." As his support became precarious, it
was thought advisable by lumsclf and his numerous and ardent friends here, that lie
should leave for some other field of labour. Tlie church, and nnxny of the best of the
people, were exceedingly reluctant to part with Mr. Waterman."
After a somewhat protracted agitation, Mr. Waterman obtained a releiise
from his pastoral charge at Windham. He was then employed for some
time to supply the pulpit in New Milford, Conn. On the first of January,
1806, he was installed pastor of the church in Bridgeport, as successor
to the Rev. Samuel Blatchford. . The installation sermon was preached
by his friend and former neighbour, the Rev. Moses C. Welch of Mans-
field.
Mr. Waterman continued to minister to the congregation at Bridgeport
with great acceptance till the close of his life. He died of an inflammatory
fever, while on a visit at Springfield, Mass., on the 11th of October, 1825,
aged fifty-six years. His remains were removed to Bridgeport, where a
funeral sermon was preached by the Rev. Samuel Merwin of New Haven,
from Acts vill. 2.
The following is a list of Mr. Waterman's publications: — An Oration
before the Society of Cincinnati, Hartford, 1794. A Century Sermon at
Windham, 1800. A Sermon at the execution of Caleb Adams, 1803. A
oermon at the funeral of Professor Nehemiah Strong, 1807. A SerniLin
ELIJAH WATERMAN. 343
entitled " The Noble Convert," 1809. A Sermon at tlie funeral of Capt.
Aarop Hawley, 181U. Life of John Calvin, (an octavo volume,) 1813.
Calvin's Catechism, 1815. A Sermou at the funeral of the liev. David Ely,
J). D., 1816. A Sermon on the death of Frederick Lockwood.
Besides the above, Mr. Waterman publisbed various articles in prose and
poetry in diffei'ent periodicals, one of the most important of which was a
Ijiographical sketch of President Clap in the Christian Spectator, in 1819.
Mr. Waterman was, for several years, a very successful teacher of youth,
and his influence in this capacity was gratefully acknowledged alike bv his
pupils and their parents.
He was married on the 18th of November, 1795, to Lucy, daughter of
Shubael Abbe, of Windham. She died greatly lamented on the 17th of
March, 1822, aged furty-four years. He was married, a second time, in
October, 1823, to Mrs. Lucy Talcott of Springfield, Mass., who survived
him many years, and was distinguished for her piety. He had eight chil-
dren,— five daughters and two sons by the first marriage, and one daughter
by the second. His eldest son, Thomas, was graduated at Yale College in
1822, entered the ministry, and has occupied several important places in the
Congregational and Presbyterian denominations.
FROM THE REV. DANIEL WALDO.
Geddes, Octobers, 1855.
My dear Sir: The Rev. Elijah Waterman, of whom you ask me to communicate
to you my recollections, was born in a town adjacent to the place of my nativity,
though my acquaintance with him did not commence until he entered College^
Avhich, I think, was at the beginning- of my Senior year. 1 knew him during
the first year of his college life; and, after his graduation and his settlement at
Windham, my acquaintance with him was resumed, and, though my opportu-
nities of intercourse with him were not frequent, I was well acquainted with his
public career, and knew well the general estimate that was formed of his
character.
If my memory serves me, Mr. Waterman's reputation in College corresponded
well, in most respects, with his reputation in subsequent life. He was regarded,
at that period, as possessing much more than ordinary talents, was a vigorous
and successful student, taking rank, I think, among the best in his class, and
had a bold and decided turn that led him to speak out his mind fearlessly on
all occasions. lie was of a more than ordinarily excitable temperament, and
had a keen sense both of favours and of injuries; and while he was always
warmly grateful for the one, he was not always over-tolerant of the other.
He was naturally a person of very active habits, and you could hardly place him
in a situation in which his activity would not find the means of displaying itself.
As a preacher, Mr. Waterman was very generally and highly esteemed. His
religious opinions were Calvinistic, but not, I believe, cast in the Hopkiusian
mould, which, at that period, was perhaps the prevailing type of orthodoxy in
New England. As he was a great admirer of Calvin, insomuch that he devoted
considerable time to writing the history of his life, I feel quite confident that
his Calvinism was less adulterated by foreign admixtures, than that of most of
his New England cotemporaries. His sermons were perspicuous in style, with-
out any attempt at artificial ornament, were enriched with sober and well
digested thought, and were delivered in a direct, animated, and eff"ective manner.
He has left several discourses in print; but that which excited more attention
than perhaps any other, was a discourse entitled " The Noble Convert," which
he delivered at Bridgeport, by request of the Hon. Picrpont Edwards.
344 TiUNlTARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Mr. Waterman was much osLcemod by his brctlireiiin the ministry, and indeed
by the Christian community at large, as not only a man of excellent talents, and
fervent piety, but as a good minister of the New Testament. I never heard that
he was otherwise than a good pastor; and yet I can easily suppose that his quick
and strong impulses would sometimes expose him to speak or to act where he had
better have remained silent or passive. Though he was kind in his dispositions,
faithful to his convictions, ardent in his friendsliips, and earnest in his purposes
of doing good, he was not the man whom you would have been most likely to
select, to display the highest degree of thoughtful serenity in the midst of a
tempest.
In stature, Mr. AVatcrman was rather below than above the medium, and tliough
never decidedly corpulent, had the appearance of a person of more than common
physical strength. His countenance was animated and intelligent, liis movements
quick and natural, and his manners sufficiently polished to enable him to pass
well in any society, though there was nothing to indicate any high degree of arti-
ficial culture. He was sociable and agreeable in his intercourse with his friends,
and wherever he might, be he was sure to meet with a hearty welcome.
Yours with great respect,
DANIEL WALDO.
JONATHAN FISHER *
1793—1847.
Jonathan Fisher was born in New IJraintree, Mass., October 7, 1768.
He was a descendant of Anthony Fisher, who emigrated from Eng-
land in 1G54, and settled in Dedham, Mass. He was the eldest child of
Jonathan and Catharine (Avery) Fisher. His father removed from New
Braintrce to the West part of Northampton, (West Hampton,) in the spring
of 1773, where lie lived till near the close of 1776, at which time he threw
up his commission as Lieutenant, which he had held under the King, and
took the same rank in the Revolutionary army. After enduring many
hardships, he died of camp fever, in Morristown, N. J., on the 10th of
March, 1777. He was a man of great Christian worth, and left this world
in the calm and cheerful expectation of a better. His wife, the mother of
the subject of this notice, was a person of excellent sense, of extensive
reading, and of an eminently devotional and benevolent spirit. The son
very early manifested a desire for knowledge, and particulai'ly for a know-
ledge of the ancient languages, which seems to have been excited by his find-
ing a few Greek words in a book that belonged to his mother.
Soon after the death of his father, he went to Rutland and spent the
summer with his great-uncle, Timothy Metealf; and, in the succeeding
autumn, having reached his ninth year, he went to live with his uncle, the
Rev. Joseph Avery. t the Congregational minister of Holden, Mass.
Between the years of ten and fifteen, he began to exhibit a decided genius
for mechanical and mathematical pursuits. He spent his leisure hours in
•Sermon at his funeral. — MS. from his son and Rev. Stephen Thurston.
t Joseph Avery was born in Dedham in 1751; was graduated at Harvard College in 1771;
was ordained pastor of the church in Jloldcn, Mass., December 12, 1774; and died March 5,
1824, aged seventy-three, lie published an Uration on the Fourth of July, 18U6.
JONATHAN FISHER. 345
making buttons, broaches, windmills, &c., and in solving various questions
ill mathematics ; somctiuics drawing upon a smooth board with a pin, and
at others with a pencil on a slate. During this interval, his school instruc-
tion amounted to but four or five weeks in a year.
At fifteen, he undertook the study of Latin, but as he saw no prospect of
gaining a liberal education, he determined to devote himself to some
mechanical trade. His mother's advice, however, prevailed to change his
purpose ; and when he was nearly eighteen, he entered upon a course of
study under the more immediate direction of his uncle. At the age of about
seventeen, his mind became deeply impressed with the subject of religion,
and he was enabled, as he believed, to dedicate himself to the service of
God and exercise a living faith in the Redeemer.
About the close of 1787, he engaged in teaching a school at Dedham for
three dollars per month. Here he continued for three months, at the same
time prosecuting his own studies, and improving his hours of relaxation by
making bird-cages, which he turned to some pecuniary account. On the
19th of July, 1788, he entered as Freshman at Harvard College. At this
time he commenced keeping a strict account of his expenses, which he con-
tinued through life. During the first five of the seven years he spent at
Cambridge, all his expenses, including clothing, books, &c., amounted to
six hundred and five dollars. His vacations, as well as much of his leisure
at College, were spent in painting, drawing, or making mathematical instru-
ments ; and, among other things, he constructed a clock, which was in use
nearly half a century. He held a high rank in his class as a scholar, and
graduated with one of the first honours. In August, 1790, during a Col-
lege vacation, he united with the Congregational church at Dedham, under
the pastoral care of the Rev. Jason Haven.
After his graduation, he spent most of the time, for three years, at Cam-
bridge, as a resident graduate, on the Hopkinton foundation. There he
studied Theology, and continued the study of French and Hebrew. With
these languages he became so familiar, as not only to be able to read them
fluently, but to write them wi:h facility. At a public exhibition in 1790,
he delivered a Hebrew Oration. He pursued the study of Hebrew with
great eagerness through life. He made no small progress in preparing a
Hebrew Lexicon, designed to save the student the time which was formerly
spent in what was called " digging Hebrew roots." After spending con-
siderable time in the study of the language without the points, which was
the practice of the day, he became convinced, from a patient examination
of the matter, that, whatever might have been the original form in which
the language was written, the points were necessary to its perfection. He,
therefore, sat down alone, without the countenance of a single other Hebrew
scholar, and commenced the study of the language anew. Marking the
difliculties he met with from the Lexicons then extant, he formed his plan
so as to obviate those difficulties. The Hebrew Bible was, through life, his
constant companion. He rose at five o'clock in the morning, and his first
exercise was to read a chapter from his Hebrew Bible aloud, that he might
perfect himself in the pronunciation of the language. He had committed
'nemory in the original some thirty Psalms. After the publication of
ibbs' Hebrew Lexicon and other works facilitating the study of the lan-
guage, he relinquished the idea of publishing his own work, though lie still
went forward with it, as he had leisure, for his own benefit. The French
Vol. II. 44
34G TUIMTAllIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
alfio became very faniiliar to him — it was his constant hahit to read from
his French Bible at family worship. Thus he liail the advantage of com-
paring the two translations, and by this means gaining a clearer expression
of the thought of the original Scriptures.
He sustained himself in College, partly by his own small patrimony,
partly by teaching a school, and partly by money borrowed from some of
his friends, which he failed not to refund with interest. He was licensed to
preach on the 1st of October, 1793, at Brooklinc, by the Cambridge Asso-
ciation. He preached his first sermon from the pulpit of the Kev. Mr.
Fiske,* Wilton, N. H., where he had been occupied at two diflercnt periols
as a teacher.
In the spring of 1794, through the intervention of Mr. Abiel Abbot of
Wilton, who had been on a visit to Maine, then a part of Massachusetts,
and had undertaken to obtain a minister for the people of Blue Hill, a place
situated on an arm of the sea, about fifteen miles from the mouth of thr
Penobscot lliver, he engaged to preach for that people four months from
the middle of June. This engagement he fulfilled, and then returned to
Cambridge and spent the winter in study, preaching generally on the Sab-
bath in vacant pulpits in the vicinity, and interchanging his studies with
drawing, painting, and writing for the press.
While at Cambridge, he prepared a philosophical alphabet, adapted to
the English language, in which each letter, in all cases, retained one sound
only, iind which could be conveniently used in writing. To this method of
spelling he attached a system of stenography. Of this alphabet, in 1828,
he makes the following statement: — "In the accompanying alphabet, witli
the stenography annexed to it, I have written more than twenty-five hun-
dred sermons." — " This alphabet, by rejecting superfluous letters, saves
about one page in seven ; the stenography which soon became familiar to
me, has saved me about half the paper and half the time in writing my ser-
mons." The aggregate saving of time and money, in forty years, was no
small item. In time it must have saved him more than three years.
Having received another invitation to preach in Blue Hill, he left Cam-
bridge and directed his course to that place in July, 1795. He continued
his labours here till November, when he received a call from the church
and town to settle with them the following spring. He then returned to
Massachusetts, where he preached during the winter. Having accepted tlie
call from Blue Hill he returned to that place in May, 1796. He was ordained
pastor of the cliurch on the 18th of July following, — the sermon on the
occasion being preached by the Rev. Peter Powers. t
Mr. Fisher being aware that there were some tendencies to Arminianism
among his people, and being himself a decided Calvinist, early took the
* Abel Fiske was born at Pcppcrell, Mass., in 1752; was graduated at Harvard College in
1774; was ordained pastor of the church in Wilton, N. H., November 18, 1778; and died
April 21, 1802, aged lifty years. He published a Discourse at the ordination of Abiel Abbot.
Coventry, Conn., 17i'5; a Discourse at the ordination of Jacob Abbot; [who was born at Wil-
ton, N. 11., January 7, 1768; was graduated at Harvard College in 1792; was ordained pastor
of the church in Hampton Falls, August 15, 1798; resigned his charge in 1827 ; removed to
Windham, N. H., and was drowned by the upsetting of a boat, November 2, 1834;] a Thanks-
giving Sermon, to which are added two other Discourses, 1798; a Discourse before a Lodge of
Free Masons, 1798.
f Peter Powers was bom in 1728; (the first male child born in Hollis, N. H. ;) was gradu-
ated at Harvard College in 1754; was ordained ])astor of the church in Norwich, (Newent
Society,) Conn., December 2, 175t); relinquished his charge on account of the insufficiency of
his salary in 176G; was installed shortly after as pastor of the churches of Haverhill, N. II.,
and Newbury, Vt. ; was dismissed in 1784; and died at Deer Isle, Me., May 24, 1799.
JONATHAN FISHER. 347
precaution to prepare a Coufession of Faith in accordance with his own views,
and it was received by the people without objection. But, when he after-
wards preached a course of sermons upon the Divine attributes, in which he
expounded the doctrines contained in his Confession of Faith, considerable
opposition was awakened, and he was charged by some with having changed
his sentiments. Not long after this, a revival of religion took place, as the
result of which, nearly sixty were added to the church, and the general tone
of religious opinion and feeling was brought into substantial harmony with
Mr. Fisher's own views and wishes.
He always showed himself an earnest friend of education. Early in his
ministry, he laboured to establish an Academy at Blue Hill, and was success-
ful in obtaining from the Legislature of Massachusetts half a township of
land as an endowment. In April, 1803, he had the pleasure of preaching
a dedicatory sermon in a building erected for the purposes of education.
He was one of the Trustees of the Institution for many years.
Mr. Fisher, during his whole ministry, showed himself a zealous and
faithful labourer in the service of his Master. Besides a pretty regular
increase of his church, there were several seasons of general revival, which
brought into it considerable numbers at a time. In 1799, fifty-seven were
added; in 1816, forty ; and in 1835, about the same number. Two hun-
dred and sixteen were added to the church during his ministry. He was
dismissed from his charge on account of the growing infirmities of age, on
the -4th of October, 1837, — having sustained the pastoral relation a little
more than forty-one years'.
Mr. Fisher, during his remaining years, was actively engaged in preach-
ing, writing, studying, painting, and labouring on his farm, as oppor-
tunity oS"ered, inclination dictated, or strength permitted; showing himself,
to the very last, a prodigy of industry. On Sunday, the 19th of September.
1847, he attended church as usual, and took part in the devotional exercises.
On the Tuesday r.ight following, he became very ill, and, though the best
medical aid was immediately put in requisition, it was to no purpose. His
bodily sufferings were intense, but the serenity of his mind was undisturbed.
He died on Wednesday evening, September 22d. having nearly completed
his seventy-ninth year. His funeral was attended on the Sabbath following,
when an appropriate sermon was preached by the Rev. Stephen Thurston
of Searsport, which was printed.
Mr. Fisher published a Sermon at the ordination of Marshfield Steele ;*
al«o a volume of Miscellaneous Poems, and a volume on Scripture
Animals. This latter work is justly reckoned a curiosity. The front-
ispiece contains several trees, in the branches of which it is said there
is a good profile likeness of the author, designed and executed by himself.
One of Mr. Fisher's sons, Josiah, was graduated at Bowdoin College in
1828, studied Theology at the Andover Theological Seminary, and is now
(1856) pastor of the Presbyterian church in Succasunna, N. J.
•Marshfield Steele was a native of Hartford, Conn. ; was graduated at Yale College in
1790; was ordained paator of the church in Machias, Me., September 3, 1800; and died in
1832. aged sixty.
348 TRINITARIAN CO.NGREUATIONAL.
FROM THE REV. S. L. TOMEKOY, D. D.
83 Pemberton Square, Boston, April 18, 1855.
Dear Sir: You ask a brief statement of my recollections of the late Kev. Jona-
than Fisher, of Blue Hill, Me. 1 will endeavour to comply with your request,
premising that what I shall say is either the result of my own observations, or
from .sources which I deenied reliable at the time, and still deem so.
My first acquaintance with Mr. Fisher was in the summer of 1825, at my
ordination in Bangor, lie was a member of the council, and delivered the
charge. If my memory serves me, he was at tliat time between lifty and sixty
years of age.
In personal ai)pearance, he was somewhat peculiar, — being in stature rather
below the medium iieight, dressed in the antique style, with small-clothes, knee
buckles aud shoes, and long-waisted, ancient coat; his head and neck thrown
slightly forward, liis head bald, and his whole appearance and demeanour unmis-
takeabl}'^ clerical and grave. No man could see him and have a doubt as to his
profession.
He was a man of the strictest order and punctuality, with an exact time for
every work, and a particular place for every thing of which he had the charge.
He rose at a certain hour in the morning, when other people are generally asleep;
and, so for as practicable, every work and duty of the day before him was care-
fully attended to at a precise time. His minutes were as precious to him as
money is to the miser. But I never saw him w^hen he seemed to be in a hurry.
Each day was mapped out, and readinn;, philology manual labour, preparation
of sermons, and parochial duties, — each had its exact place, so far as lay within
the compass of possibility in his profession. At the end of every sermon, he
entered the number of words wliich it contained, and could generally tell you
how much time it had cost him.
In the matter of economy, I think he must have outdone Benjamin Franklin
himself. His salary, during the greater part, if not the whole, of* his ministry,
was not, I think, over three hundred dollars. He had also a lot of land given
him as the first settled minister of the town. Theee were his resources.
Yet he brought up a family of seven cliildren, sent his daughters to boarding
schools, and one son to College, and annually gave away more money than many
ministers whose salaries are two or three thousand dollars. All his expendi-
tures were regulated with tlie most rigid regard to economy. Being in debt for
his education when he was settled, he contrived, from his scanty means, to save
enough to form a sinking fund, liy which that debt was extinguished after many
years. He made up his mind annually as to what he could give to various bene-
volent causes; and that sum, with what he could collect among liis people, was
promply remitted. He needed no promptings, and never waited for circulars or
calls from agents. His liberality was as remarkable as his economy. AVith a
view to save time and money, he contrived a system of short-hand, by which,
as he once told me, he was enabled to write his ordinary discourses on five-
eighths of a sheet of foolscap paper; by which operation he saved, as he said,
about seventy dollars in the course of thirty years, as nearly as he could calcu-
late.
His mechanical ingenuity was quite uncommon, as any one would see who
examined his house, barn, sheep-cote, wood-house, and other out-houses, all of
which were built under his direction, and no small ])ortion of them with his
own hands. In his wood-house, he showed me a macliine, which he had con-
structed with a view to sawing wood }»y wind; which, however, he did not long
use, because he could not make it feed itself, and thus save time, which was the
object in view. There was no paint on the inside of his house, and all the
JONATHAN FISHER. ^^g
latches were of wood, and so nicely adjusted as seldom to fail of their
object.
He was also an artist. The walls of his dwelling were ornamented with
paintings, the work of his own hand; among which was an excellent likeness
of himself, executed by sitting before a looking-glass. It represents him as
having a Hebrew Bible open before him, with the Hebrew characters nicely
formed. Had his life been devoted to the pencil, he would undoubtedly have
excelled.
He also tried his hand at poetry, and once published a small volume of poems,
chiefly on sacred subjects. In some of the pieces he was quite successful. He
left a volume of poetry in manuscript for each of his children, as I have been
informed; indeed I believe f once saw some of them at his house. They were
intended merely as mementos of himself. A little poem entitled, if I mistake
not, "The Djing Marianne," which was, if my memory serves me, published
in the New England Primer, was written by him, as I have been credibly
informed. I remember to have read it with much pleasure in my childhood. Many
of these productions were wanting in the true spirit of poetry. He was not born
a poet, and never could have made one, although this was the point on which, if
on any thing, he prided himself.
He had a decided taste for philological studios, and, considering the very
limited advantages he enjoyed, in his remote frontier residence, with but few
books within his reach, he made no small attainments. With the original lan-
guages of the Bible he was quite familiar, and was accustomed to read from the
Hebi-ew and Greek in his faniil}^ devotions. Sometimes also he read from the
Latin and the French. When I was at his house, neai'ly thirty years ago, I
remember that he was poring over an Arabic New Testament, — without either
Lexicon or Grammar. The most marvellous achievement of his life was a Hebrew
Lexicon, which he found time to make, written with great care and labour, and
.•irranged, in the main, on correct and philosophical principles. It still exists in
manuscript, and ought to be deposited in the archives of some public institution,
as a monument of his untiring industry.
He once published a little volume, entitled, " Scripture Animals," — I think
designed for Sabbath schools, — in which, at the beginning of each chapter, was
a picture of the animal, bird, reptile, or insect to be treated of, — all of which
were drawn and engraven by himself. Under each cut was the name in English,
Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, and sometimes in French. I asked him, when he
showed me the manuscript, why he gave the name in languages which the children
could not read. His reply was, "When I was a child in my father's house,
and used to read Doddridge's Family Expositor, the Greek words which he intro-
duced in his notes, so excited my desire to read them, that I was led to form the
liurpose of obtaining a liberal education. What happened to me, I thought
might happen to other children." For a similar reason, it is presumed, he was
accustomed, sometimes, when he preached, to read his texts first in English, and
then in Hebrew or Greek, as the case might be.
As a preacher, he aimed chietiy at instruction. On the two or three occasions
when 1 heard him, he was plain, practical, out-spoken, never afraid to call any
sin by the name which God had given it in his word. He was rather fond of
the analytical process. There was no deep under-current of emotion bearing
him on, nor any effort at effect, — nothing that could be called oratory; but there
was simplicity, .sincerity, solemnity, and an evident desire to do good. HLs voice
had great compass, and in its lower tones was deep *nd full. But being desti-
tute of an ear for music, his emphasis was sometimes misplaced and his intona-
tions inappropriate.
His study-table, bj- a slight operation, could, at any time, be converted into a
work -bench, with planes, and chisels, and saws, all at hand; so that he could, in
350 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
a moment, pass from head-work to hand-work. His library' was quite small. A
man of ordinary strength could probably have taken it all upon his shoulder.
Most of his periodicals and some other books were bound by himself.
But his piety was perhaps the niost remarkable trait of his character. He was
an Israelite indeed, in whom was no guile. He seemed to be incapable of a trick,
or a stratagem, or any crooked disguise, and was what he appeared to be. His
\arefulness not to say more than he really meant, was very noticeable. I had
>ccasion to meet him frequently during the j'ears of my acquaintance with him,
and he was sometimes a guest in my family, and yet I do not recollect ever being
in his society many minutes, without perceiving in him a desire to say or do
something which might be of service to those about lym.
I must not forget to mention that, until the infirmities of age began to press
upon him, he never owned a horse, nor an over-coat, nor wore flannels. His jour-
neys were made on foot, (unless his wife was with him,) summer or winter, hot
or cold, sunshine or storm. IJlue Hill being in those early days a new settlement,
and ministers few and far between, he was often called to visit the sick and attend
funerals many miles from his dwelling; but whatever the state of the roads, or
however deep the snows, he generally went and returned on foot. Ilis residence
was forty miles from Bangor, and being a member of the Board of Trustees of
the Theological Seminary, he had frequent occasions to visit that city; but he
generally came and went on foot. Not far from the time of my settlement in
1825, he walked from Blue Hill to Monson, a distance of eighty miles, to attend an
ordination, in the month of November, on frozen ground, with wintry winds
whistling around him, without an over-coat, and walked home again; andl doubt
if any man ever heard him utter a complaint or speak of hardships. On all
public occasions, when duty called him from home, whoever else might be tardy,
Father Fisher was not.
It is qtiite possible that some of my recollections may be slightly erroneous,
and in respect to some things, I may have been misinformed; but I have aimed
to state things according to the best of my knowledge and belief.
His greatest defect, probably, was the want of a sound, practical judgment to
give direction to his industrious energies. He had very little of worldly wisdom.
A greater concentration of his efforts, as it seems to me, would have led to more
important results; l)ut he was certainly a remarkable man, and lived and laboured
for the glory of Cod, and tlie good of his fellow men, in all simplicity and godly
sincerity.
Very sincerely your friend and brother,
S. L. POMEROT.
EBENEZER PORTER. 351
EBENEZER PORTER, D. D.=^
1794—1834.
Ebenezer Porter was a descendant, in the fourth generation, from
Thomas Porter who emigrated from England, and settled in Parmington,
Conn., as one of the original proprietors of the place. He was a son of
Thomas and Abigail Porter. His father, at the age of about twenty-three,
removed from Farmington, the place of his nativity, to Cornwall, Conn.,
where, for many years, he held the office of Deacon in the Congregational
church, and was also a Magistrate, and a Ilepresentative of the town in the
State Legislature. In 1779, he removed to Tinmouth in Vermont, where,
during a succession of years, he held some of the highest civil offices in the
State. He was also somewhat in military life, and for a time was Captain
of a company of minute men in the war of the Revolution, He was withal
an eminently devoted Christian, and laboured in season and out of season
for the advancement of the Redeemer's cause. He died at the house of his
son in Granville, N. Y., May 30, 1833, at the age of ninety-nine years and
thi'ee months.
Ebenezer was the third son of his father, and was born at Cornwall,
October 5, 1772. His childhood was marked by unusual loveliness of tem-
per, propriety of conduct, and fondness for books. Having removed with
his parents to Vermont, he commenced his course of preparation for College,
at the age of twelve, under the tuition of his brothei'-in-law, the Rev. Ben-
jamin Osborn,t then minister of Tinmouth, and completed it under the
Rev. Job Swift, D. D., of Bennington. He entered Dartmouth College in
1788, and graduated in 1792, being the .Valedictory orator of his class.
He was distinguished in College as well for his exemplary deportment as
for his attainments in the various branches of literature and science. It
was during his Junior year that he became the subject of those permanent
religious impressions, which gave complexion to his character and his life.
After leaving College, he was occupied, for a few months, in teaching a
school in Washington, Conn., and, in the mean time, became a member of
the Congregational church in that place, — the same of which he was after-
wards pastor. He prosecuted his theological studies under the direction
nf Dr. Smalley of Berlin, and received license to preach in 1794. He was
engaged first, for a short time, as a supply at Goshen, in the absence of the
stated pastor, on a tour of missionary service ; and then preached for a while
as a candidate to the Congregational church in South Britain, from which
he received a call. This call, however, he did not accept. The Rev. Noah
Merwin,! minister of the congregation in Wasliington, having died in the
mean time, their attention was immediately directed to him as a suitable
person to become Mr. M.'s successor ; and, after he had preached for them
a few weeks, they signified their desire to this effect in a formal way. But
* Memoir of Dr. Porter. — AVoods' Fun. Scrm. — Amer. Quart. Reg., IX.
t Benjamin Osborn was born in Litchfield, Conn., in 1748; was graduated at Dartmouth
College in 1775 ; was ordained pastor of the church in Tinmouth, Vt., September 25, 1780 ; waa
dismissed October 11, 1787; and died in 1818, aged seventy.
{ Noah Merwin was graduated at Yale College in 1773 ; was ordained pastor of the church in
Torrington, Conn., in 1776 ; was dismissed in 1783 ; was installed pastor of the church in Waah-
ington, Conn. J in 1785, and died in 1796.
352 TRIXITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
as the call was not in every respect to his mind, he felt constrainod t( \ a
to it a negative answer, with a statement of the grounds on which it was
declined, lie subsequently preached, for a short time, at Salisbury, where
also there was manifested a strong desire to retain him ; but the people of
Washington having renewed their call, and modified it in accommodation to
his wishes, he soon after returned to it an affirmative answer. His first i;er-
nion after his return to them was on the text — "Therefore came I unto you
without gainsaying, so soon as I was sent for ; T ask, therefore, for what intent
ye have sent for me." He was ordained September 6, 1796; and in May
following was united in marriage with Lucy Pierce Merwin, the eldest daugh-
ter of his predecessor.
At the time of his settlement in Washington, it was his full expectation
and decided purpose, unless there should be some special providential intima-
tion to the contrary, to remain with his people to his dying day. He entered
with great vigour upon his labours, and every thing gave promise that his
relation to his charge would be as permanent as it was agreeable. In addi-
tion to his other duties, he assisted a number of theological students in their
preparation for the ministry; — a service which, without his knowledge, wa«
preparing him for his ultimate field of labour. The severity of his labours,
however, especially during a season of revival in 1804-5, reduced his health
so materially, that he was obliged to discontinue them altogether for nearly
a year ; though his congregation, during this time, showed no signs of dis-
satisfaction or even impatience. The utmost harmony prevailed among
them till the year 1809, when a deficiency in his means of support, owing to
circumstances which he could neither foresee nor control, led him to ask for
an increase of his salary. This request, though perfectly reasonable, was
not met with the cordiality and promptness that could have been desired ;
and, after a correspondence between him and the parish, which gave little
satisfaction to eifaer of the parties, but which was higlily honourable to both
his prudence and integrity, he proposed a dissolution of liis pastoral relation ;
and, accordingly, a council was convoked to whom the question of a separa-
tion was to be referred. At this juncture, the young men of his charge,
with a zeal and liberality which their fathers had failed to manifest, stepped
forward, and in a most respectful and affectionate communication, proffered
him every assurance of their good will, and of their determination to support
him at all hazards, if he would consent to remain. This unlooked-for cir-
cumstance served to modify, in some degree, his views of duty ; and when
the question was referred to the council, they decided that the relation should
not be dissolved.
Several circumstances occurred, about this time, to indicate the high esti-
mation in which his character and services were held in the comnmnity at
large. The first Congregational church in New Haven, having become
vacant by the removal of the Kcv. Moses Stuart to a Professorship in the
Theological Seminary at Andover, Mr. Porter was earnestly and repeatedly
solicited to consent to a call from that congregation ; and Dr. Dwight, among
many others, was of the opinion that his duty clearly pointed him thither.
During the same year, (1809,) he was elected a member of the Connecticut
x\cademy of Arts and Sciences. In 1810, he preached the Annual Sermon
before the Connecticut Missionary Society, and was afterwards elected a
Trustee of the same body. In 1811, he was invited by Governor Griswold
to preach the Election Sermon ; but the enfeebled state of his health obliged
EBENEZER PORTER. Q-:^
hlui to decline. In the course of the same year, overtures were made to
him by the Consistory of the Reformed Dutch church in Albany to become
their pastor; to which, however, he was not disposed to listen.
The time had now come which Providence had designed for his translation
to another sphere of usefulness. The chair of the Bartlet professor of pulpit
eloquence in the Theological Seminary at Andover having become vacant
by the resignation of Dr. Griffin, the Trustees and Visitors of the Institu-
tion unanimously concurred in the election of Mr. Porter to that important
place. This appointment presented to him a new and difficult question of
duty ; but, after nicely and scrupulously weighing the various considerations
having a bearing upon it, he signified his wish to his people that they should
unite with him in referring it to the decision of the Consociation with whicli
they were connected. This proposal having been agreed to, the Consocia-
tion assembled, and, after due consideration of the case, determined that it
was his duty to accept the appointment; and, with a view to this, they
declared the relation between him and his charge dissolved. This occurred
on the 18th of December, 1811; and on the next day he signified to the
Trustees of the Seminary, through their President, his acceptance of their
invitation. He, however, chiefly from an unwillingness to encounter the
severity of winter in his feeble health, did not go to Andover until March
following. His induction into office took place on the first day of April.
A sermon on the occasion was preached by the Rev. Dr. Holmes of Cam-
bridge.
In 1814, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon liim by
Dartmouth College ; — a distinction which, it would seem, from a paper tliat
has been found since his death, he doubted, for some time, the propriety of
accepting. In 1815, he was elected President of the University of Ver-
mont, under circumstances which led him to take the subject into very
serious consideration, though it resulted in the full conviction that he could
not be justified in abandoning the place in which Providence had so mani-
festly fixed him.
Dr. Porter's health had become so precarious tnat, in the prospect of the
winter of 1816-17, it was judged expedient by his medical advisers and
others, that he should seek a milder climate; and, with a view to this, he
travelled South in the autumn, and passed most of the winter in Georgia.
His health was so favourably affected by the change of climate, that he
preached the greater part of the time during his absence, at least once on the
Sabbath, without inconvenience ; and, at the same time, occupied himself in
gathering important information in respect to the moral condition of the
Southern States, and in helping forward the interests of the American Educa-
tion Society, then in its infancy. On his return, he attended the meeting of
the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia, as a
delegate from the General Association of Massachusetts, and reached
Andover in June, with greatly improved health.
Early in 1817, — shortly after the death of President Dwight, Dr. Porter
was appointed Professor of Divinity in Yale College ; — notice of which he
received while in Georgia. There was a concurrence of circumstances to
render this perhaps the most attractive place that could have been offered
to him. But he declined the appointment chiefly on two grounds. One
was, that the Professorship at New Haven would require of him an amount
of labour in the w.iv of public speaking to which he felt himself inadequate;
T., •, "45
354 • TRINITARIAN CONGKEGATIOxX AL.
and the other was, that Providence had already placed him at Andover,
where he could labour to as good purpose as any where, and that it was
quite as easy to fill the vacancy at New Haven, as it would be the vacancy
which would be created by his acceptance of the appointment.
Shortly after his return to Andover, he suffered from a severe attack of
pleurisy ; — a disease which frequently returned upon him in succeeding yearp.
From the period of his recovery till the winter of 1819-20, he was assidu-
ously engaged in the duties of his oilice, with only occasional and brief
interruptions from the state of his health. The great popularity, however,
which he had acquired in various parts of the country, subjected him to the
necessity of considering and answering many applications for his services in
other spheres of labour. The Presidency of Hamilton College, and after-
wards of Middlebury College, was proffered to him in 1817 ; and in the
succeeding year, he was formally elected President of the University of
Georgia. About the same time also, he was officially assured that a call
would be made out for him by the Presbyterian church in Columbia, S. C,
if he would give any encouragement of accepting it. To all these overtures
and invitations, however, he gave a respectful but decided negative. At a
later period, about the close of 1820, he was earnestly solicited to allow
himself to be named to the Trustees of South Carolina College, as a candi-
date for its Presidency, after the death of Dr. Maxcy ; and in 1821, a still
more definite proposal was made to him, in respect to the Presidency of
Dartmouth College, after the resignation of Dr. Dana ; but it is hardly
necessary to say that both proposals were promptly and decidedly declined.
In the autumn of 1819, the very delicate state of his health seemed to
render it doubtful whether it would be safe for him to encounter the seve-
rity of a Northern winter ; but his reluctance to suspend his labours in the
Seminary kept him at home till February, 1820, when he yielded to the
necessity of the case, and embarked at Newburyport for Charleston, S. C.
The vessel had an unusually protracted and tedious passage, though the
voyage, on the whole, proved favourable to his health. In Charleston he
met the Hev. Dr. Brown, President of Dartmouth College, who, like him-
self, was an invalid in pursuit of health, and who left upon Dr. P.'s mind
the decided impression, that he would never reach his friends in New Eng-
land. Just before leaving Charleston, Dr. Porter received a serious injury,
and Wcts in imminent danger of losing his life, from being precipitated from
a vehicle by reason of the fright of a horse. His preservation on this occa-
sion was made the subject of most grateful recollections, as recorded not
only in his journal but in his letters to his friends. After having passed
l)etwecn two and three months in the region of Charleston, he came back
to the North, and reached Andover the latter part of June, with the best
expectations of himself and his friends, in regard to the effect of the jour-
ney upon his health, fully realized.
In November, 1821, Dr. Porter had projected a tour to Europe with a
view to pass the winter in Italy ; but he subsequently changed his purpose,
and sailed for Charleston, thence for Savannah, and thence for New Orleans;
and reached home in June, 1822, after an absence of nearly seven months.
He had become so wearied with protracted separations from his family and
the sphere of his accustomed labours, that he determined, from that time,
to stay at home, commit himself to Providence, and abide the result.
And though his life was henceforth a constant struggle with infirmity, and
EBENEZEK rORTER. 355
he was occasionally visited by severe attacks of disease, yet, for several
years, he was enabled to discharge his duties in connection with the
Seminary, with but little interruption.
In 1827, thA Gruardians of the Seminary instituted, for the first time, the
office of President ; and Dr, Porter, with the unanimous and cordial con-
currence of his colleagues, was appointed to fill it. He felt serious objec-
tions, on diff'erent grounds, to accepting the place, but finally consented to
make the experiment. In connection with the duties devolved upon him by
the Presidency, he continued his public lectures, and attended regularly on
some other exercises belonging to his department. In the autumn of 1829,
however, his health suffered so much that he felt constrained, contrary to
his previous determination, to resort again to a Southern climate; and,
having spread the matter before the Trustees of the Seminary, and received
from them leave of absence, he embarked for Charleston in the month of
October. After remaining there a few weeks, he proceeded to St.- Augus-
tine, where he spent the rest of the winter, and under the influence of that
genial climate, his health seemed constantly growing better, insomuch that
he was enabled, during a single week, to perform the labour of writing four
lectures. At one time during his absence, he had serious thoughts of cross-
ing the Atlantic and passing the summer in Europe ; but it was a gracious
providence that diverted him from this course ; for the ship in which he
would have sailed, was burned by lightning on her outward passage. On
leaving Charleston to return home, he seems to have been deeply impressed
with the conviction that he was taking a final leave of his friends in that
city. The event, however, proved otherwise.
During the greater part of the summer of 1830, Dr. Porter Avas journey-
ing in different directions, solely with reference to his health. At the meet-
ing of the Trustees of the Seminary immediately after the anniversary, at
which he presided as usual, he resigned his oiiice as Professor of Sacred
Rhetoric. He, however, continued to give lectures, and to direct the stud-
ies in this department, until October, 1832, when the Rev. Dr. Skinner
succeeded to the place. The relief vrhich he now felt from a heavy burden
of care, seemed temporarily to invigorate his health, and, during the aca-
demical year that followed, he performed an amount of labour which sur-
prised both his friends and himself. Disease, how^ever, was all the time
preying upon his system, and gradually and surely advancing towards a fatal
termination. During the summer of 1882, it became painfully manifest
that, unless a vigorous efibrt were made to retard its progress, his life could
not be protracted much longer ; and though, when the idea of another
Southern tour was suggested to him, he greatly demurred, and felt as if he
could not submit to it, yet the advice and earnest wishes of his friends finally
prevailed, and in October, he embarked at Boston, with his wife, for the la>t
time, for South Carolina. It was his intention to proceed by way of Charles-
ton to Saint Augustine ; but the vessel in which they took passage at
Charleston having encountered for some time very tempestuous weather,
they were compelled to disembark, and were providentially directed into the
interior of South Carolina. At Walterboro', where they remained for some
time, enjoying not only a delightful climate but delightful society, he wrote
a part of his excellent Lectures on Ptcvivals of Religion. From that place
they passed on to Columbia, where he accepted an invitation from the
Directors of the Theological Seminary to deliver a course of Lectures;
356 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
and immediately after they were delivered, there was an earnest
request made for their publication ; — a request which is said to have has-
tened somewhat the appearance of his volume on Homiletics. He left
Columbia about the first of May, and reached home, after stopping at seve-
ral places, early in July. It was apparent, however, that little had been
done, during his absence, to stay the progress of his disease. Still he
resumed his duties, and continued in the discharge of them, without any
perceptible diminution of energy, through the summer and autumn of 1838.
Again his friends urged upon him the repetition of a Southern tour ; but
he was inflexible in his purpose to remain at home. By artificial means, he
established an equable temperature in his house, which, for a while, he
thought might avail as a substitute for a Southern climate. Those who saw
most of him, however, saw that he was gradually sinking. And the pro-
gress of his disease, towards the close, is supposed to have been accelerated
by the sudden death of a niece in his house, to whom he was devotedly
attached, and who died amidst the fiercest terrors and agonies incident to
mental distraction.
Shortly after this affecting event, Dr. Porter evidently became convinced
that his earthly tabernacle was rapidly giving way. His last ofiicial duty
was performed about a week before his death, in writing the usual certificate
for the members of the Senior class, preparatory to their being licensed to
preach. When the physician, contrary to Dr. P. 'swishes, was called, a few
days before his death, and other physicians were afterwards called for
consultation, the case was pronounced hopeless. From this time, he hud
only the partial use of his reason ; and yet, even in the wildness of delirium,
his ruling passion' for doing good frequently discovered itself. He continued
gradually to sink until Tuesday morning, April 8, 1834, when death finally
acconqilished its work. His funeral was attended in the chapel of the
Theological Seminary, on the Friday following, when an appropriate
discourse was delivered by his colleague, the Rev. Dr. Woods, from John,
XVII, 4.
The following is a list of Dr. Porter's publications : — A Sermon in the
Columbian Preacher, 1808. A Sermon preached at the request of the
Trustees of the Connecticut Missionary Society, 1810. A Sermon on the
fatal effects of ardent spirits, 1811. A Sermon delivered at the anniversary
of the Moral Society in Andover, 1815. A Sermon delivered at the ordi-
nation of the llev. Israel W. Putnam at Portsmouth, N. H., and of the
llev. Alfred Mitchell at Norwich, Conn., 1815. A Sermon on the public
Fast, 1816. A Sermon at the dedication of the new edifice erected for the
use of the Theological Seminary in Andover, 1818. A Sermon delivered
at the ordination of Thomas J. Murdock,* 1819. A Sermon delivered
in Boston, on the anniversary of the American Education Society, 1820.
A Sermon on the Public Fast, 1823. A Sermon preached in Boston before
the Pastoral Association of Massachusetts, 1827. A Sermon preached in
JJoston before the Society for propagating the Gospel among the Indians
iind others in North America, 1827. The presumption of sceptical men:
A Sermon preached in Andover, 1828. The immortality of Grod : A Ser-
• Thomas Jewett Murdock was a native of Norwich, Vt. ; was graduated at Dartmouth
College in 1812; was a Tutor there from 1813 to 1816; studied Theology at the Andover Semi-
nary; was ordained j)astor of the Chapel church, Portland, September"29, 1819; resigned hij
charge March 21, 1821; was installed pastor of the church in Canterbury, Conn., in 1822; and
died in 1827.
EBENEZER PORTER. 357
mon published in the American National Preacher, 1829. Two Sermons
preached in the chapel of the Theological Seminary, Andover, on the State
Fast, 1831.
In addition to these occasional Sermons, he published, in 1819, the Young
Preacher's Manual, a second edition of which appeared in 1829 ; in 1824,
a Lecture on the Analysis of Vocal Inflections; in 1827, an Analysis of the
principles of Rhetorical Delivery, as applied in reading and speaking ; in
1831, the Rhetorical Reader ; in 1832, Lectures on Revivals of Religion;
in 1833, a Lecture on the cultivation of spiritual habits and progress in
study ; and in 1834, Lectures on Homiletics, Preaching, and Public
Prayer.
FROM THE REV.' RALPH EMERSON, D. D.
PEOFESSOR IN THE THEOLOGTCAL SEMINARY, ANDOVER.
Theological Seminary, Andover, January 12, 1848.
Dear Sir: In compliance with your request, I will state my views on some of
the prominent points in the character of our deceased friend, Dr. Porter. I can-
not, however, attempt a full delineation of his character within the limits of a
single letter.
My personal acquaintance with him commenced at this Seminary, where I was
a student, at the period when he entered on his office as Professor. After leaving
the Seminary, I saw him but once or twice before my return, as an associate with
him in office, — a few years before his death, when, to my view, I found him just
the same man, — the same at the fire-side, in the social walk, in the Faculty
meeting, and in the select praj-er meeting, as I had before known liim in the
lecture room and in the pulpit — the same uniform dignity, combined with uniform
cheerfulness, accompanied occasionally with a well-timed salh' of wit. Having
often before been surprised by the change of aspect with the change of social
relations, I was now still more surprised at the manifest sameness. His manners
were those of a Christian gentleman, who knew how to meet men of every grade
in life; — always dignified and courteous, rather bordering on the reserved than
the obtrusive, with an air of perfect frankness and self-possession, j-et never
loquacious, scornful to no one, and obsequious to no one. Whether it was the
result of his innate, sterling good sense, or of that wisdom from above, which
bade him regard all men as his brethren, he seemed on a level with all; willing to
receive, and still more willing to confer, a favour, without cringing to a bene-
factor, or assuming a patronizing air towards a recipient of his aid.
In his intercourse with men, no one could doubt his sincerit}-, or suspect him
of any sinister or selfish purpose. From his frankness of manner, as well as
from the uniform tenor of his actions, his words passed current at their full
import, though sometimes found on reflection, fraught with a delicate reproof, or
a still more delicate compliment, which was not at first perceived. His conver-
sation, like his style of writing, was as terse and aphoristic, as it was simple and
unpretending — indeed he was very fond of repeating the aphorisms he had met
with in reading or in conversation. Aleve of neatness and of order amounted in
Dr. Porter almost to a passion. This was seen alike in his compositions, his
dress, his equipage, his buildings, his household arrangements, his study, his
workshop, his garden, and his superintendence of the Seminary " A place for
every thing, and every thing in its place" — yes, and every man in his place — was
his motto. Thus fond of order, he was remarkably regular in his personal
habits, — always, when practicable, taking his needful exercise, at its allotted
hours, either in his garden, his workshop, his carriage, or as was more commonly
the case in good weather, on horseback. By this great regularity, in connection
358 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
with the strictest temperance in diet, drink, and I may add, the use of medicine
he kept at bay the most fatal of diseases, for a period of about twenty years.
His extreme love of order, and consequently of well detined rules, was, how-
ever, probabh', the chief cause M'hich prevented his reaching a still higher degree
of eloquence than what he attained. Though original and inimitable in his
manner, as well as his conceptions, yet his genius seemed often checked in its
llight, and kept back from " snatching a grace beyond the reach of art."
Possessing a remarkable tact for the discrimination of character, Dr. Porter
was often able, from the more slight indications, to predict the future course of a
young man, and to give the cautions or encouragements which his case required.
And in the discharge of this dulicate and important dut}', he was as prompt as he
was kind and judicious.
Dr. Porter also pos.sessed great independence of mind. His opinions were his
own, and he never feared to avow them, wJiether in regard to religion, politics,
modes of action, or men. But, while thinking for himself, he cheerfully accorded
the same liberty to others. Though thoroughly and earnestly orthodox in his
religious views, he could candidly appreciate both the arguments and the personal
merits of those who difiered from him. Never would he make a man an offender
for a word, nor discard him from his Christian fellowship or his personal friend-
ship, for minor deviations in opinion.
Another important trait in the character of Dr. Porter was his sterling integ-
rity. He seemed over to act on the golden rule of doing to others as he would
have them do to him. No man more abhorred all artifice, or more sedulously
avoided it in his own transactions. Always in easy circumstances, he was abk-
to comply with the apostolic direction to owe no man any thing; and I may here
add, that he deemed it the wisest course, so far as practicable, to suffer no man
to owe him any thing. This was one part of a system which he early adopted
for " putting the world under his feet." The few articles he had to dispose of, ho
preferred either to give away, or to sell for ready cash. His deviations from this
rule, as he once informed me, had been but few, and that for the purpose of accom-
modating those with whom he dealt. His object was to divest his mind of worljlly
cares, and to avoid collisions with men on worldly matters.
Mere Christian integrity, however, was not his goal. He was also liberal in
lus benefactions to individuals, and to many of our most important charitable insti-
tutions. Nor was he content to give merely his substance. He also devoted no
small share of his time, for many years, to forming and promoting such institu-
tions as the Missionary, the Bible, the Education, the Tract, the Sabbath School,
and the Temperance, Societies.
His zeal for the triumphs of what he regarded a pure Christianity, was ardent
and unwavering. While engaged in spreading it throughout the world, he was
equally active in guarding it against corruptions at home. This is sufKciently
evident from his well known and well timed efibrts for the promotion and the
purity of religious revivals. 1 need not therefore enlarge on this point. Nor
need I speak of his elevated and very consistent religious character, and his gene-
ral usefulness, as you already have the facts from other sources.
Yours truly,
RALPH EMERSON.
FROM THE REV. ORVILLE DEWEY, D. D.
Sheffikld, Mass., February 13, 1849.
My dear Sir: You desired me, after some conversation that passed between ua
the other day on the subject of Dr. Porter's preaching, to give you in writing my
thoughts upon it; and I do so with pleasure; — for it recalls to me some of tho
best hours of my life — the hours in which 1 listened to his grand and solemn
expositions of the Gospel; and I am the more willing to give this testimony,
EBENEZER PORTER. .359
because, although his preaching was always regarded as remarkably finished,
dignified, and graceful, yet its extraordinary power has never, as it .seems to me,
been fully appreciated by the public.
it may be thought that this fact itself proves that it lacked the power which 1
ascribe to it. But upon this point I wish to make one or two remarks that may
go some way to explain the fact.
Dr. Porter was a remarkably modest man. And then, too, his sensibility —
delicate, tender, and shrinking, was peculiarly of a kind that demanded a home
for its manifestation. That home it found among his pupils and brethren in the
chapel at Andover. Abroad, I have heard him preach, in a great city congrega-
tion of strangers, when his manner seemed to mc to fiiil of its usual impressive-
ness. It was decorous, dignified, accomplished, but not clothed with the power
that marked almost every one of his discourses at Andover.
And then again, it is to be observed, that even in his own home sphere, there
were circumstances calculated to hinder the natural and just effect of his preach-
ing. He was our master in rhetoric. Every week he was laying down and
explaining to his pupils the principles and rules which he was illustrating on
.Sunday in the pulpit. To their eyes, it was natural, perhaps, that the technicah-
ties of the lecture-room should seem to overspread the glowing manifestations
of the pulpit. Hence, it was not uncommon to hear the criticism among his
pupils, that his manner seemed to them studied and correct, rather than touching
and povv'erful.
But 1 must confess it was not so to me. To me, and so far as the manner was
concerned, it was the most faultless and impressive Christian eloquence to which
1 have ever listened; and it is most worthy, 1 think, by those who heard it, to be
recalled and studied as a model.
Dr. Porter always commenced his discour.se with a most clear statement of the
subject. In simple and precise terms he explained his text and his theme. The
matter he had to discuss was never abstruse nor far-fetched. Some plain doc-
trine or duty of the Gospel was always before him; indeed, his mind was not
fitted for deep speculation or profound philosophy. In this opening of the dis-
course, his manner was always very calm and singularly graceful; it was easy,
simple, and commanding. 1 think I have never witnessed an exordium in the
pulpit that Vv-as marked by the easy swaying of the body to so many dignified
and commanding attitudes. Dr. Porter did not get up in the pulpit, and with
one hand behind him, and the other holding his manuscript, begin as if he were
going to read something, or as if it were no matter how he began, or as if he
meant that his manner should appear careless and unstudied. He certainly had
a manner; but it seemed to me as free as it was graceful; as much suggested by
the feeling of the moment, as it was cultivated. It gratified the taste; it won
attention; it commanded respect; it was a good beginning.
Then came the argument. This always consisted of a few clear and decisive
considerations. There was nothing uncommon or striking about it; unless it
was its extraordinary perspicuity in every word and idea that belonged to it. It
never tasked the hearer's mind to understand it. It never went into any sort of
curious disquisition. The ordinary questions of the general mind were met; no
more was usually attempted. Dr. Porter did not sound the depths of argument,
nor penetrate the great questions of religion and life with any acute analysis. In
the department of thought, I do not intend to claim for him the attributes of a
great preacher. I do not suppose that his discourses, on being read, would make
any great impression. But in the order, clearness, and compactness of his argu-
ment, there was something singularly fitted to satisfy the mind, and to make
palpable and unquestionable the ground for what was to follow.
It was in what followed— in the application of his doctrine — that his great
power lay. Thus far the hearer was carried on with but little excitement; all
360 TKIMTAHIAN CONGIIEGATJONAL.
was clear, satisfactory, gratifying iu the higlicst degree to tlie taste and the judg-
ment, but not exciting. 1 do not object to that iireaching which stirs the heart
from the very beginning — such was Clianning's; and lie could hardly help its
being such; he couhl hardly speak a word on religion that did not awaken emo-
tion— but such was not Dr. I'orter's manner — such was not the character of his
mind. IJut when lie came to the application, when to impress his subject was
what he undertook to do, he often i)Ut forth the grandest power of eloquence,'. 1
have often gone from his preaching with my heart wrung, literally wrung, by the
grasp he had laid upon if, and it was some time before tlie blood flowed freely in
its channels.
For making this impression he possessed two qualifications; tlie first of which,
I think, especially demands attention; because it is valuable, and because it can
be acquired.
It was the habit of illustrating and enforcing his doctrine by examples; chiefly
by grave historical or biographical anecdotes, lie seemed to me to have read his-
tory and biography with this view — to have read them as preacher — to have reail
them as 1 imagine Cicero would have recommended, who would have the orator
know every thing, but subordinate all knowledge to his life- task as orator. I
think Dr. Porter must have had a Common-place IJook, for the record and cla.ssi-
ficatioii of facts and anecdotes drawn from his whole reading. Out of his treas-
ury, wherever it was, he was always bringing some pertinent illustrations — .some
words from Ba.xter or Milton, uttered in appropriate circumstances, some inci-
dent from the life of Koerhavo, or of Oberlin, or .some grand historical antrdote,
which fell upon the jjoint to which it was applied with astonishing force. It car-
ried irresistil)le conviction ; it drove the nail to the quick. It was light and power;
it was lightning that rent the hardest obstruction in its wny.
The other qualification was strong religious emotion. When shall this power
come into the pulpit in its full freedom and majesty? How much learning, accom-
plishment, talent, in the pulpit, is lost for the want of this! And it must come,
or the pulpit itself is lost. For the world, in proportion as it becomes an edu-
cated, enlightened, reading world, does not want instruction from the preacher
so much as impression. The world knows enough for the purposes of Iiniy living;
it wants to be made to fed what it knows; and this effect is ordinarily to be pro-
duced by no fine essay or curious disquisition. Dr. Porter's thoughts were sel-
dom original, but they were delivered with a feeling that made them a thousand
times better. He hail a power of gathering up and concentrating his religious
emotions upon the points where his doctrine pressed, that was truly singular.
Feeling in him enkindled imagination — for which he was otherwise not remarka-
ble. And this enabled him to deliver certain graphic passages in his discourses
in a very striking manner. I think some of his hearers must remember with me
his .sermon on the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, — "And Abraham got up
early in the morning and looked toward all the land of the plain, and lo! the
.smoke of the country went up as the smoke of a furnace." When he uttered
thCvSe words he turned and lifted his hands, in mingled astonishment and horror,
as if he saw the tremendous spectacle, and he made us feel iis if we saw it with
him. Imagination and emotion together seemed to seize and transfix him, at
some moments, as nnoxi)e<'tedly to himself as to othcr.s. "These things," said
hs, in the closing ])art of one of his discourses, "are simple and plain; they are
meditated here in our hiimlile .sanctuary ; they are uttered in a moment; but they
take hold of e " emotion snatched from him his power of utterance for an
instant — then the lifted eye and hand fell — and he said with indescribable .solem-
nity "of eternity .'" It was the power of a sermon in one word.
A friend of mine attended service in the Seminary one morning, some years
after I left it, and heard one of Dr. Porter's grand discourses, and as the audience
EBENEZER PORTER. 361
was leaving the chapel, Professor Stuart, in his deep tone, said, " This is the
nnijcsty of the (jiospel!" It Mas indeed the majesty of tlic (Jospel!
Hoping, my dear Sir, that I have not occupied too much space with this account
of Dr. Porter's preaching, I subscribe myself with kind regard,
Yours truly,
ORVILLE DEWEY.
RUFUS ANDERSON.
1794—1814.
FROM THE REV. RUFUS ANDERSON, D. D
Boston, March 10. 1856.
My dear Sir: The ancestors of my father, the Rev. Rufus Anderson,
came from the North of Irehuul, and settled in Londonderry, N. H. He
was one of eight childi'en, and was born 3Iarch 5, 1765. His mother died
when he was a little more than two years old. I have been assured that
she was a very godly woman. This son she devoted to the Gospel ministry,
and on her death obtained from his father a promise, that he should be edu-
cated for that work. Diflicultios afterwards arose in the way of fulfilling
that promise, that were not surmounted. When eighteen years of age, he
became a member of the Presbyterian church in Londonderry, under the
care of the Rev. Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Morrison. His preparation for Col-
lege was commenced with that clergyman, and completed with Dr. Wood
of Boscawen, N. H.
My father once said to me, that his available funds when he entered
Dartmouth College in 1787, were less than a dollar. His pecuniary neces-
sities were proba])ly no more than those of many of his contemporaries ; but
I am affected to think of him as travelling on foot, at the close of his vaca-
tion, from Londonderry to Hanover, driving two cows which his father had
given him towards his college expenses ; or as carrying homespun cloth to
dispose of in one of the large seaports ; or as finding his way, upwards of
sixty years ago, to the tlien distant town of Saco, in Maine, to keep school,
and receiving his pay in articles not easily converted into money. But he
appears to have been less in debt when he graduated, than is frequently the
case with the j'oung men in our day, and from this indebtedness he contrived
soon to be relieved.
His theological stuiiics were at Beverly, jNIass., with his brother-in-law,
llev. Josepli McKeen, the first President of Bowdoin College. After
preaching as a candidate for some time, he accepted one or two invitations
he had received to settle as a pastor, and was ordained, October 22, 17U4,
in connection with the Second church in North Yarmouth, Me., — Mr.
McKeen preaching the sermon from I. Tin), iv. 10. His parish is now divided
into the towns of Cumberland and North Yarmouth, and the territory,
which then constituted the first parish, is now called Yarmouth. My father
records his gratitude for a "united parish, a united church, and a united
council." He was married on the 8th of September, 1795, to Hannah,
second daughter of Isaac Parsons, Esq., of New Gloucester, Me. She pos-
VoL. II. 46
362 Ti;iMTAltTAN CONGI^EC ATIONAL.
sessed a cultivated luind ; and among her prominent graces were humility,
patience, love to the people of God, and rare pruJence, She died of con-
sumption, July 14, 1803, leaving three sons, who all lived to graduate at
Bowdoiu College ; though the two younger fell victims, soon after, to the
same ;Usease with their mother.
My father's ministry in North Yarmouth was eminently successful. His
habit through life was to pray in secret three times a day ; and he had that
indispensable requisite of a minister of the Gospel, an earnest desire to save
souls. He laboured to this end in season and out of season, especially with
the younger portion of his people, nor did he labour in vain. Many gave
evidence of deriving spiritual profit from his labours while he was with them ;
and an extensive revival, which occurred soon after his dismission, was
regarded as mainly the result of his instrumentality. Years afterwards,
when visiting the place, I was delighted to find how many of the youth of
his day were then members, and some of them pillars, of the church.
My father's second marriage occurred May 27, 18U4. to Elizabeth Lovett
of Beverly, Mass., who survived him, and died in her native place in 1820.
This marriage, together with the inadequacy of his support, and the neces-
sity of some change for the benefit of his health, led him to ask a dismission
from the church in North I'^armouth, after a settlement of nearly ten years,
which was reluctantly granted in September 1804. Up to this period, he
had written at least a thousand sermons ; but with the use of so many abbre-
viations, as often to make it somewhat difficult for any one but himself to
read the manuscripts.
His next pastoral charge, which continued until his decease, was in Wen-
ham, Mass., and commenced June 10, 1805. This arrangement was doubt-
less the means, under God, of prolonging his life. But a revival of religion
among his people in the year 1810, while it exceedingly rejoiced his heart,
made too great a demand upon his strength, and shattered his constitution.
Consumption gradually fastened upon him. He continued to preach till near
the close of 1813. As his health failed, his soul became more sensitive to
spiritual things. I remember one morning, when on his knees at the family
devotions, he was too much overcome with emotion to proceed. His attach-
ments were strong for many of his ministerial brethren ; but the dearest and
most intimate of them was Dr. Samuel Worcester of Salem, well known as
the first Corresponding Secretary of the American Board of Commissioners
for Foreign Missions, and his high fraternal regard was fully reciprocated by
that eminent man. My father's death occurred on the 11th of February,
1814, wlien he had nearly completed his forty-ninth year. His funeral was
numerously attended, and the sermon preached by Dr. Worcester from 2
Tim. I. 12, was afterwards published, and contains a glowing description of
his character and worth.
" His mind," says Dr. Worcester, " was active and efi&cient ; and, in regard
to objects deeme 1 by him important, would easily kindle into ardour. His
passions, naturally quick and strong, restrained and sanctified by Divine
grace, diffused around him a mild and benign, a warming and cheering, influ-
ence. In his various relations, as a husband, a father, a friend, a brother,
a pastor, a citizen of his country, and a denizen of Zion, the benevolence of
his heart was manifest in constant endeavours, and desires unequivocally
expressed, for individual happiness and for public good. His conversation
was distinguished for its simplicity, and for being always with grace seasoned
EUFUS ANDERSON. 3(33
with salt ; and the man is rarely to be found, of whom it might be said
with more appositeness, ' Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no
guile.' " The preacher closed his memorial of his departed friend by saying,
"Might an expression of personal feeling be indulged, I would say, I am
distressed for thee, my brother Anderson, very pleasant hast thou been
unto me."
The subject of this funeral sermon, — The dignity and glory of the
Redeemer, is supposed to have been suggested by an interview between the
two friends not long before. Two or three of Dr. Worcester's brothers had
departed somewhat from the orthodox views of the person and offices of
Christ ; and my father, while yet able to converse fi-eely, requested an inter-
yiew with his friend, and spent a long tirhe with him in his study. As he
came out, I heard him say emphatically to my mother, "All is right, Samuel
is safe."
I know of but four publications, in a distinct form, by mj- father. The
first was a double Fast-day Sermon preached in the year 1802, specially
designed to resist the ingress of French infidelity and licentiousness. In
1805 and 1806, he published two pamphlets directed against the distinctive
priuciplcis of the Baptists. They show a discriminating mind, and a clear
apprehension of the subject of which he was treating. He subsequently-
printed a Primer for children, of which I am unable to find a copy. In the
last years of his life, he collected materials for a historical work on Missions
to the Heathen, — a subject which had secured his warmest interest, and was
then beginning to attract the attention of the American Churches. The
material^;, in collecting which my own agency was employed some five and
forty years ago, are now in my possession, and are interesting to me as
having given me my first introduction to that vast field of Christian effort,
v.hich God has opened to the church in modern times. Though my honoured
father saw but the dawning of the day, it filled his benevolent and pious
S)ul with exceeding joy.
I am, my dear Sir, /
Very respectfully and truly yours,
R. ANDERSON.
364 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
SAMUEL SHEPARD, ]). D *
1794— 184G.
Samuel Siiepard was the son of Daniel and Sarah Shcpard, and was
born at Chatham, (now Portland,) Conn., in November. 1772. His parents
were exemplary membors of the church, and hi.s father's occupation was that
of a farmer. In his earliest years he evinced great fondness for study ; and
at the age of fourteen was employed as teacher of a district school in his
native place. For a year before he entered College, he was engaged in
teaching at Glastenbury. Having gone through his prejiaratory cour.-c
under the llev. Enoch Huntington of Middletown, he entered Yale College
in the spring of 1789, was graduated in 1798, with one of the two highest
honours of his class. After prosecuting the study of Theology for somt-
time under the direction of the Rev. Dr. Cyprian Strong, the minihter of
bis native parish, he was licensed to preach the Gospel by the Hartford
South Association. Having preached for a short time at Milford and
Derby, Conn., successive!}', he accepted an invitation in October, 1794, to
preach as a candidate to the church in Lenox, Mass., which had been vacant
about two years, in consequence of the dismission of the Rev. Samuel
Munson.t He accepted the invitation, and in due time received a unani-
mous call to become their pastor, which also he accepted. He was ordained
on the 30th of April, 1795, — Dr. Strong of Chatliam preaching the
sermon
He remained till the close of life the pastor of the church with which he
now became connected. His ministry, from its beginning to its end, was
attended with an unusual degree of success. The church, previous to his
settlement, had, from various causes, enjoyed little of spiritual prosperity.
and had been the scene of protracted and most unhappy divisions ; but tlie
commencement of his pastorate marked a highly auspicious change, in the
years 1799, 1807, 1808, 1815, 1820, 1821, 1830,1836, and 1843, there were
extensive revivals of religion under his ministry, which brought large num-
bers into the church. In April, 1845, he preached a sermon on the fiftieth
anniversary of his ministry, in which he gratefully and pathetically reviews
these and various other testimonies of the Divine goodness.
Id connection with his appropriate duties as a minister, he performed
much service at home and abroad, in aid of the cause of education. He
was a member of the Corporation of Middlebury College from 1800 to 1813 ;
a member of the Corporation of Williams College from 1808, and its Vice
President from 1834, to the close of his life. He was honoured with the
degree of Doctor of Divinity from Union College in 1819.
Doctor Shepard enjoyed vigorous health, and was abundant in labours,
during nearly his whole life. One year before his death, he suflFered severely
from an attack of the angina pectoris ; and, though he so far recovered as to
attend to his accustomed duties, and even to preach three times on the Sab-
bath, he often remarked that the fatal blow was struck, and that he was then
passing his last year. So strongly was this impression fixed upon his mind
• MJ. from his daughter. — Todd's Fun. Perm.
t Samuel Muxson was graduated at Yale College in 1763; was ordained at Lenox, Mass.,
November 8, 1770; was diamisaed in 1792; and died in 1814.
SAMUEL SHEPARD. 365
that, iu his last round of pastoral visitation, he mentioned in several families
that that would probably be the last time he should ever visit them ; and
liis preaching, during that year, was marked not only by uncommon fervour
and power, but by a tenderness that seemed truly parental. About the
lirst of December, 1S45, the disease from which he had previously sufi'ered,
returned upon him, — which led him to say at once, "My time has come.''
It was a Communion Sabbath ; and it was not without an effort that he was
able to attend church. The impression seemed universal with the audience
that that was to be, as it proved to be, his last visit to the house of God ; and
when he passed out of the house, not a small portion of them were in tears.
His illness, which was of several weeks duration, was attended with great
distress, and even agony ; but his mind was uniformly clear, and his faith
always triumphant. He had a fitting word for all who came to see him ;
and sometimes his faculties were quickened and elevated to an extraordi-
nary degree, so that both his thoughts and his language took on a character
of unwonted sublimity. He lingered in extreme suffering until the 5th of
January, 184:6, when he died at the age of seventy-three years and two
months. A sermon was preached at his funeral by his neighbour and inti-
mate friend, the Rev. Dr. Todd of Pittsfield, and was published.
He was married in 1795, shortly after his ordination, to Lucy Ames, a
native of the same place with himself. They had three children, — one son
and two daughters. The son, Samuel Nicholas, was graduated at Williams
College in 1821, and is now (1855) pastor of a church in Madison, Conn.
Mrs. Shepard died in 1837; and iu 1839, Dr. Shepard was married to the
widow Olive Taft, then of Williamstown, who survived him.
Dr. Shepard's publications are a Sermon preached at Lenox at the execu-
tion of Ephraim Wheeler, 1806 ; a Sermon preached at the General Elec-
tion at Boston, 1806 ; a Sermon on the fiftieth anniversary of his ordination,
1845.
FROM THE REV. ELISHA YALE, D. D.
KiNGSBORo', N. Y., November 28, 1853.
Dear Sir: It gives me pleasure to comply wnth your request, by communicating
to you my reminiscences and impressions concerning my former pastor, the late
Dr. Shepard. I was young when 1 first saw him in the pulpit; but even at that
e;irly i)erio(l, liis preaching made an impression upon me that never passed away.
In hi.s person, Dr. Sliepard was of about the medium height, but rather thick
set, firm, and apparently capable of great physical effort and endurance. His
countenance was exprcs.sive of strength rather than delicacy; though it was often
irradiated by a smile of good nature and benevolence. His manners were an
admirable compound of affability and dignity. AVhile he naturally possessed a
tine flow of spirits, and knew how to unbend in all the freedom of familiar inter-
course, he never, by any act, compromised his dignity — he knew what was due
lo others, and kept others mindful of what was due to him.self.
lie possessed a vigorous and comprehensive mind. His perceptions were clear,
liis judgment sound, his imagination lively, and his memory retentive. Had he
been as remarkable for his habits of study, as he was for his original mental con-
stitution, I have no doubt that, as an intellectual man, he would have stood forth
among the foremost of his contemporaries.
He was distinguished for his integrity — his unwavering adherence to what he
believed was true and right. It was utterly impossible for him to dissemble in
anything: his convictions were generally clear and strong; and bespoke them
3GG TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
out in all honesty — not always perhaps practising so much reserve as prudence
niiglit have dictated. If he sometimes, for the moment, gave offence, by excessive
frankness, it was generally bat for a moment; as the noble quality in which the
olience orij^inatcd, could not but command tlic respect even of those to whom its
exercise luul given pain.
Willi integrity he united great generosity. He held his property as a steward,
and followed the dictates of an eidiglitened conscience in the distribution of it.
lie was eminently kind to tlie poor; the voice of sulfering was never lifted up at
his door in vain. To the great objects of Christian benevolence connected imme-
diately with the conversion of the world, he contributed clieerfully, systematically,
liberallj'. lie was also a noble example of hospitality. Living as he did at the
county seat, and on the great road extending through the county and into other
States, he was visited by a great number of persons, both clergymen and laymen;
and his visitors were sure to meet a cheerful welcome and a hospitable enter-
tainment.
As a preacher. Dr. Shepard possessed much more than ordinary power. His
voice was loud, mellow, and flexible, and capable of filling the largest church
without effort. There was great animation in his manner, — a kindling up of the
whole soul in his face, which, accompanied with forcible and appropriate action,
could not but give great effect to what he said. His discourses, were, very often
at least, delivered from short notes, though generally not without previous elabo-
ration; but I remember to have hoard that some of the very best sermons that
he ever preached were strictly extemporaneous; not even the subject having been
chosen till after he had got into the pulpit. His thoughts sometimes came like
a mighty rushing torrent; and he never lacked for the appropriate language in
which to clothe them. In his views of religious truth, he belonged to the school
of Edwards; and to these views he attached great importance, while yet he was
not disposed to make a man an offender for a word. In his pastoral relation, he
was eminently exemplary, caring alike for all the members of his flock, according
to the variety of their circumstances and needs. He was a firm friend to religious
order; and when, a few years before his death, the tide of fanaticism came in like
u flood, threatening to pour desolation over the goodly field he had so long bcu
permitted to cultivate, he promptly and fearlessly set up a standard against ii,
and that, notwithstanding it brought upon him, temporarily, no little reproacii.
His great firmness of character perhaps never displayed itself more remarkably,
or to better purpose, than on that occasion.
With great respect and affection.
Your brother in the Gospel,
ELISHA YALE.
JOUN FISKE. 3G7
JOHN FISKE, D. D *
1794—1855.
John Fiske, a son of Peter and Sarah (Perry) Fiske, was born at
Warwick, Mass., October 26, 1770. He divided his early years between
attending school and working upon his father's farm. lie fitted for Collegf,
partly under the instruction of his pastor, the Rev. Samuel Heed, and partly
under that of his brother Moses. t He received his collegiate education at
Dartmouth, where he was graduated in 1791. He studied Theology under
the direction of the Rev. Dr. Lyman of Hatfield, and was licensed to preach,
and at the same time ordained to the ministry, at Hadley, May 6, 1794, by
the Northern Hampshire Association, with a view to labouring for a season
in Seneca, N. Y. He immediately proceeded towards his intended field,
and the second sermon he preached, was in what is now the town of Geneva,
consisting tlien of five or six log cabins, and one or two framed buildings.
But he was soon arrested in his labours by an attack of fever and ague, in
consequence of which he returned to Massachusetts. He preached for
some time both in Milford and in North Brookfield, and overtures to settle
in both places were made to him, which, however, he declined. He subse-
quently received a call from the church in New Braintree, which he accepted ;
and on the 26th of August, 1796, — his twenty-sixth birth day, — he was
installed as its pastor. The installation sermon was preached by his theo-
logical instructor, the Rev. Dr. Lyman of Hatfield.
The churcli of whicli Mr. Fiske became pastor was, at that time, in
regard to its spiritual interests, in a very depressed state. For the first two
years of his ministry, no additions were made to it ; but from that time
there were several added each year until 1809, when there commenced an
interesting revival which continued between two and three years, and
increased greatly both the uuiral and numerical strength of the church.
In 1818-19, another and still more powerful revival occurred, the result of
which was an addition to the church of more than ninety persons of all
ages and conditions. The years 1826, 1831, and 1842, were severally
marked by an unusual attention to religion in his congregation, which brought
into the church an aggregate of nearly one hundred. In the progress of
his miiustry, not only was the church much enlarged, but the tone of Christian
feeling and benevolent effort was greatly quickened and elevated.
He always showed himself an earnest friend to the cause of education.
He watched over all the schools in the town with a sort of parental interest,
oftei\ visiting them, and doing his utmost to elevate the standard of quali-
fication in the teachers. He had also an important agency in the establish-
ment of Amherst College, and as long as he lived continued one of its most
efiicicnt patrons.
• Ilis llalf-Ccntiiry and Dedicatory Discourse. — MS. from his daughter.
t Moses Viskk was a native of Warwick, Mass.; was graduated at Dartmouth College in
178(); was a Tutor there from 1788 to 1795; studied Theology ard was licensed to preach, but
was never ordained, and preached hut a few times; removed to Tennessee, where he became
distinguished as a civilian, and died in 1843, aged eighty-three. He remained single till he wm
fifty years old, and then was married and reared a family of nine children. He published seve-
ral Tracts, among which w;vs a Discourse on Negro Slavery in the United States, 1795.
3t)8 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Amherst
College ia 1844.
Dr. Fiske continued sole pastor of the church until the 22d of June,
1853, when Mr. James T. Uyde, a graduate of Yale College in 1847, was
ordained as his colleague. From that time he continued to preach occasion-
ally,— but usually in the neighbouring towns, whose ministers he was fond
of visiting, — till about the close of the summer of 1854, when he performed
his last service in the pulpit. His lust public address was at tlie Commu-
nion in the following October. During the next winter, he suffered much
from sciatica, and his health seemed to be gradually failing till the 1st of
March, when he was taken suddenly ill with congestion of the lungs. His
illness was attended with great suffering, but his mental faculties were
l)right, and no cloud seemed to pass between him and the Sun of Righteous-
ness. His children he welcomed gratefully to his bedside, and was
comforted by their last loving and filial ministrations. Only a few hours
before his death, as those around him, at his request, commenced singing
"•Rock of ages cleft for me," his voice, still sweet and perfectly true,
though faltering, joined in the solemn but delightful exercise, as if in antici-
pation of the eni'apturing melodies of Heaven. He died on the 15th of
March, 1855. — after an illness of just a fortnight, — in the eighty-fifth year
ot his age, and the sixty-first of his ministry. His funeral sermon was
preached by the Rev. Dr. Snell of North Brookfield.
Dr. Fiske published a Spelling Book, 1807 : a Fast Sermon, 1812 ; a
llalf-Century and Dedicatory Discourse, 1846.
He had eight children, — four sons and four daughters, all of whom lived
to maturity.
FROM THE REV. JAMES T. HYDE.
Hartford, Conn., June 18, 1866.
Dear Sir : I had no acquaintance with the Rev. Dr. Fiske of New Braintree until
the spring of 1853, when he was eighty-two years old; but from that time was
witli him almost constantly, until he died — nominally as his colleague in the
ministry, but more truly as a son in his own family — as intimate with him as a
young man could well be with one older than himself by nearly three-score years.
And it was especially true of him that he was young when he was old, and lived
nntil he died. Although entirely independent in my official responsibilities, 1
was very much dependant upon him and his family for daily companionship and
recreation, and must always remember him with filial alTection.
In person, tall and well-proportioned, with large and regular features, and bnt
sliglitly bended form; with eyes still bright and voice still strong and clear; with
slow but solid footstep; generally reading, writing, singing, or talking, when he
was not riding or sleeping, he seemed, when I first saw him, to be about as vigor-
ous as he was venerable. With a serene and intelligent countenance, with mild and
dignified manners, with an active and well-balancwi mind — discriminating in
judgment, skilful in management, cautious and yet determined in action — in
conversation at once inquisitive and instructive — deeply interested in the practical
alfairs of men, and with as deep an insight into their character and motives, he
made his presence to be fdt by all around him, without even attempting to
exert an influence or to make an impression.
Fixed in his opinions and ways, but seldom arbitrary; strict in his principles,
severe in his sense of propriety without being sanctimonious; equable in tempera-
ment and j-et playful in feeling; generous in sympathy and uncommonly compan
JOHN FISKE. 369
ioruible to those who really know him; siding always with a noble impulse and
a steady faith in favour of whatever seemed right or useful; nervously sensitive
to .sutlering; timid and sometimes impatient, but always submissive and trustful;
thoroughlv republican in simplicit}'; trul}' patriarchal in hospitality; he pre-
sented to mA' eye a rounded completeness of character, seldom found, except in
those who have grown old with a silent and natural growth, without any special
excitement or constraint, but in the quiet study and service of the Gospel.
In the pulpit, he spoke not with enticing words, nor wath impassioned appeal,
but with sterling good sense and with great appropriateness, — particularly in
prayer. He found the church of which he was pastor in a very unpromising
condition, and, I think I may add that, by the blessing of God on his faithful
labours, he made it all it has ever been. In the public schools, in the College
(Amherst) in whose establishment he bore a prominent part, and of which he
was a Trustee for many years, and in the councils of the churches, especially in
difficult cases, he was eminently wise and efficient.
After a ministry of fifty-eight years and nearly five months among the same
people, in a pleasant and retired home, with a large family,
" And that which should accompany old age,
'•' As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,"
enjoying and being enjoyed by his friends to the end, praising God for his good-
ness, and feeling more deeply than he could express his own un worthiness, he
fell asleep in confident hope of the mercy of God through our Lord Jesus Christ.
I am, my dear Sir, truly yours,
JAMES T. HYDE.
DANIEL DOW, D. D.
1795—1849.
FROM THE REV. WILLIAM A. LARNED. •
PROFESSOR IN YALE COLLEGE.
Thompson, Conn., August 9, 1832.
Dear Sir : At your request, I send you a brief memorial of the Rev. Dr.
Dow. It is compiled in part from my own personal knowledge, as I was
brought up under his pastoral care, and also at different times pursued my
studies under his direction ; in part also from information derived from his
widow and other members of his family ; but principally from auto-
biographical notices contained in his semi-centennial sermon. I think his
life is well deserving of remembrance, and I am glad that you propose to
]»lace his name among the many American Divines, whose history you are
iMideavouring to rescue from oblivion.
Daniel Dow was born at Ashford, Conn., February 19, ITTli. When he
was three months old, his father died ; but his mother watched over his
infancy and childhood with great tenderness and care, and furnished him
with every means in her power for acquiring useful knowledge. In the year
1790, having gone through his preparatory studies, he entered the Sopho-
more class in Yale College. His mind, which had been more or less
susceptible to religious influences, even from early childhood, took a deci-
dedly serious direction during his college life, and, under the counsel ami
guidance of President Stiles, he made a public profession of religion.
\ oL. ii. 47
370 TKINITARIAN CO'GREC ATION AL.
Mr. Dow cniilu-.iti'tl with lii.'h ln.iuiur, in Scptoinhcr, 1793. Havinj:
spent the portion of his l':ithi'r'.s estate whieh fell to hiiii, he now supported
himself for two years in teaching psalniody ; and at the same time pursued
his theologieul studio.^, partly under the ilircetion of the llev. Dr. Goodrieh
of Durham, and partly under that of the Rev. Knoch Pond* of Ashf«)rd.
He was licensed to preach the Cluspel hy the Association of Windham
County, at Woodstock, .^lay, ITUi"). lie preacheil his first two sermons in
the town of Douglass, Mass.; then preached eight .Sabbaths in Eastford, a
parish of his native town; then f(tur Sabbaths in East Woodstock; and
then commenced ])reaching at Thompson, where, in due time, he received
and accepted a call to become the pastor of the church.
On the 'JOth of August, IT!)."), he was married to a daughter (tf Deacon
Jesse IJollcs, of Woodstock.
On the -0th of April. 17UG, he was ordained pastor of the church in
Thompson, the sermon on the occasion being preached In' the Kev. Enoch
Pond.
He was settled upon a salary of tliroe humlred dollars. His predecessor,
llev. Noadiah Russell, had received forty poiimls at his settlement to
purchase a farm, and from the proceeds of this farm, had supported his
family, so that, by laying up his whole salary, he had become, at the time
of his death, one of the richest men of the town. Mr. Dow also, a short
time after his settlement, purchased a farm. He had Charles Morri.-.
(afterwards Commodore Morris,) as a "farm boy," and a "hired man."
Morris was studying under Mr. Dow, and paid for his tuition by doing "the
chores " of the family ; but as both teacher and pupil were better students
than farmers, the proceeds of the season were only sufficient to pay th''
hired man. Four years after his settlement, therefore, Mr. Dow was forced
to ask a dismission, as he had several invitations to settle elsewhere ; where-
upon his peojdc raised his salary to four liundrcd dollars. He contrived, liy
strict economy, to support his family upon this small sum till the war of
I.S12, when, finding himself five hundred dollars in debt, he again asked for
a dismission on the ground of want of support ; and, on this occasion, the
people increased his salary to five hundred dollars, at which point it
remained. But it was not till thi*ee years before his death, that he lia 1
.saved enough to pay the debt of five hundred dollars. The apprchcnsio:'.
that he might die in debt, was, for many 3ears, a sore trouble to him ; but
the good providence of (Jod provided for him, and he left the entire salary
of his last two years to his surviving family. And here it is proper to ^ay
that the judgment, prudence, and skilful diligence of his wife relieved him
from most of the anxieties attendant on limited resources, and enabled him
to educate a large family and support a large househ(dd in a manner
becoming his position in life. Indeeil I have heanl details, from his cx<'el-
lent partner, of household management, which surpass the fictions of "Sunny
Side," or any other whieh I have ever read, of the interior affairs of the
minister's family. It would be no easy matter to decide how much of the
• Enoch Poxd was born at Wrcnlliam, Mass., April 27, 1750, and wa." gni/iiiatcd at Brown
I'nivcrsity in 1777. .\fter leaving Cdllegi', he was an officer in the American army for about
a year, and then for several years wa.s <H'cupicd as a teacher of music, ami also a teacher of one
of th'; public schools in Boston. Ho tlien etudied Tlieidogy for a short time; entered theminie-
try, and w;i8 settled as pastor of the church in Ashfonl, Conn., in 178!*. In 17!*8, a revival of
religion among liis people added about eighty new members to this church. He died of con-
Fumption on the lUh of August, 18(17, in tlio fifty-second j'ear of his age. He is rci>rcsented
us having been " a genial^ affable, and good man.''
DANIEL DOW. 37]
minister's well studieJ sermon^, and timely pastoral visits, were due to the
less noticed labours of tho niiai.stor's wife.
Mr. Dow was always a student. lie furnished himself with books in
early life in a way worth mentionin^r. The late Oliver I). Cook, hookseller
in Hartford, was his particular friend; and, on his annual visit to ('um-
nienccnient at Yale College, Mr. Dow would buy all the books lie wanted
for the year, and, at his next annual visit would exchange them for others,
of course paying for their use. For many years lie had young men prepar-
ing for College under his instruction, besides, in the fall, the schoolmasters
in tho neighbourhood, who needed preparatory drilling for the winter's cam-
paign. Mr. Dow always rose, winter and summer, between four and five
o'clock. His first employment, after kindling the fire, was to read aloud
one chapter in the Greek Testament, and to sing a Hymn ; and the cessa-
tion of these morning praises was one of the things which the bereaved
household most sensibly felt, after he was taken away. The rest of the
day, with the exception of the time regularly devoted to exercise and the
usual routine of the daily duties of hospitality and visiting, was spent in
his study. His studies lay principally in the IJible, and no one could be
more familiar with its sacred pages. He needed only a single important
word in any passage, to enable him at once to turn to the chapter and verse
where it was found. Scott was his favourite commentator.
On his settlement, Mr. Dow committed to paper certain definite rules for
the regulation of his conduct, to which I believe he very uniformly adhered.
These rules relate more especially to his duties as a preacher. And it was
as a preacher that he pre-eminently excelled. Very early in his ministerial
Life, he was compelled to forego writing sermons. The first occasion on
which he preached an unwritten sermon was a preparatory lecture. He
felt that he had failed and was discouraged. It happened, however, that
one of the deacons of the church thought otherwise, and, without knowing
any tiling of Mr. Dow's feelings on the subject, remarked to him that,
though he did not wisli to flatter his minister, he had never heard so good a
sermon from him. From this preparatory lecture to the last sermon he
preached, — an interval of half a century, — he never wrote a discourse,
excepting a few on extraordinar}- occasions, not amounting, at the utmost,
to a dozen. This practice of preaching unwritten sermons, enalded him to
preach more sermons, perhaps, tlian almost any minister of his time in New
England. The parish is so divided into small villages and remote neigh-
l)ourhoods, that he wa^ compelled to extend his labours over a large field.
There were some nine places, besides his own church, whore he was expected
to preach with more or less regularity. He commonly preached a third
sermon on the Sab])ath in some one of tliese neighbourhoods, often going
eight or nine miles for this purjiose. Besides, he preached very frequently
on week day evenings, — sometimes on every one except f^aturday, which
day he always preserved unbroken by any labours away from his house.
In addition to this, he always preached at funerals, taking this opportunity
to preach to the living, as he cxpi'cssed it, and not of the dead. And as
this Was universally known, he was called upon to officiate on such occasions
in remote places, and particularly on the border lands between t'onnecti-
cut, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island, where there was not regular preach-
ing. He had preached a funeral sermon the day he died. Owing to the
fact that his labours were divided and spread over so large an extent of ter-
372 TRINITARIAN CONGREO ATION AL.
ritory, his own people perhaps were not fully aware how much he did ; hut
had they heen united and bestowed upon une spot, he would have appeared
to he what he was, — one of the most lahorious ministers of his generation.
Mr. Dow carefully thoufjht out his sermons ; they were always well
jdanned ; the doctrine plaiidy set forth ; the style clear and forcible ; and
tlirouL'hout the whole there was a simple, straijrht forward manner, which
impressed the hearer from its unostentatious earnestness. He was fond of
taking some single expression, or short clause of a sentence, for a text :
sometimes the selection would seem to be odd, but it was always found in
the end that the preacher had a serious object in view. The doctrines of
Scripture he was inclined to express, at least in the later periods of his
ministry, in Scripture language, rather than in the formulas of creeds ;
though I suppose from no dissatisfaction with the language of tho latter.
But his great familiarity with the Scriptures naturally led him to this
course. He stated the whole truth with all plainness, as he held it ; for he
regarded it as his duty to preach the truth, and the duty of his hearers to
receive it. Indeed he never seemed to be conscious that any one would
expect from him any thing short of the whole truth, howov«r unpalatable it
might lie. He recognised the opposition of the human heart to many
liumhling truths, but seemed not to be aware tliat any one could suppose
ihat he was not to preach them. And it deserves to be stated, as showing
how much undoubted honesty and unmixed simplicity of purpose will effect,
that, at the time of his death, he stood among Christians and ministers of
other denominations, almost as high as among those ot' his own, notwith-
■■tanding he was accustomed to argue points of denominational difference
with great plainness and force.
In his intercourse with his people he was remarkably prudent. He never
intermeddled with what did not concern him. He never allowed himself to
become a party to the disputes and dissentions of individuals, though he
was firm in doing what he deemed his own duty. His parishioners
generally understood that their minister was to be allowed to take what-
ever position seemed to him to be right on any question of duty, without
lundcrance or rebuke ; while, on the other hand, he formed no parties, and
uttered no denunciations, nor took any other course to bring them into his
views, than the simple presentation of what he deemed the truth. He con-
tinued to grow in their esteem to his dying day.
Mr. Dow was elected a Fellow of Yale College in 1824. He was one
of the Founders of the -'Theological Institute" at East Windsor, and was
a Trustee of the same from its foumlation in 1824. He was elected a Cor-
])(Mate member of the American Board of Foreign Missions in 1840 ; and
held these several offices till his death. In 1840, he received the degree of
Doctor of Divinity from Williams College. He died July 19, 1849, in the
seventy-eighth year of his age. He died in his' Master's service. He had
just returncil from preaching a funeral sermon on the text — " Be ye also
ready," when he was suddenly called home, without the utterance of a word.
Dr. Dow published Familiar Letters to Rev. John Sherman, 1806 ; The
Peilobaptist Catechism, 1807 ; A Dissertation on the Sinaitic and Abra-
hamic Covenants, 1811 ; Connecticut Election Sermon, 1825 ; Free inquiry
recommended on the subject of Free Masonry, 1829
I am yours respectfully,
W 1 1. [JAM A. LARNED.
ABIJAH WINES 373
ABIJAH WINES.*-
1795—1833.
Abijah Wines, the eldest cliild of Abijah and Deborah (Runnelsi
Wines, was born at Southold, Long Island, May 27, 1766. His parents
were of AVelsh extraction. In tho year 1780, when he was a little less than
fifteen years old, he removed with his father's family to Newport, N. H.
In his childhood snd youth, he was uncomnionly active and resolute, and
gave promise of a much more than ordinarily energetic character.
At the age of tv cnty, he was married to a young lady in Newport — lluth,
daughter of the Hon. Benjamin Giles ; and, as both himself and his wife
inherited some property, they settled down on a farm with very comforta-
ble worldly prospects. He had become the father of two children, and was
engaged in building a new house, when a change took place in his views and
feelings, that gave a new complexion to his life. The circumstances attend-
ing this change Mare remarkable. On a certain night, as he was getting
into his bed, the sheets between which he was laying himself down, sug-
gested to his mind the thought of tlie winding sheet, in wliich he must ere
long be wrapped, as a preparation for being laid in the grave; and this was
the beginning of a process of solemn thought, that resulted in his hopeful
conversion. From this time, he was free to converse on religious subjects,
and was very soon heard exhorting his workmen and neighbours to begin at
once to lay up treasure in Heaven.
Shortly after this change of cliaracter, he began to meditate a change of
employment ; and his thoughts were directed towards the ministry. He
commenced his classical studies under the instruction of the llev. Levi
Lankton of Alstead, intending originally to dispense with a collegiate
course; but, as he proceeded, he changed his purpose, and, in the spring
of 1792, became a member of the Sophomore class of Dartmouth College.
During his connection with that institution, he sustained a higlil- i-esp- cta-
ble standing as a scholar, and, in the midst of a very general indilierc;.ce to
religion, maintained an exem))lary Cliristian character. He was graduated
in the year 1794.
On leaving College, he went to Franklin, Mass., to prosecute his theolo-
gical studies under the direction of Dr. Emmons. The teacher and the
pupil arc said to have been mutually pleased, and each to have found in the
other a kindred spirit. Having remained here not far from a year, he was
licensed to preach about August, 1795, and, on returning to his house at
Newport, was employed by the church and society there to preach as a can-
didate for settlement. In the course of a few months, he was invited to
become their pastor ; and, having accepted the call, was ordained in Janu-
ary, 1796. The ordination Sermon was preached by the Kev. Dr. Burton
of Thetford, Vt.
• Farley's Fun. Scrm. — Hist, of Mendon Association. — Communication from Mr«. 8art«)l
Prentice.
374 TRINITAPJAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Notwithstanding lie laboured under the disadvantage of being a prophet
in his own country, his labours were highly appreciated, and were attended
with a manifest blessing. The society increased in numbers and strength,
the church was built up under his ministry, and two extensive revivals
occurred, one of which uumljcred about seventy hopeful subjects.
Not long after the last and most extensive of these revivals, he was invi-
ted to become the Professor of Systematic Theology in the " Maine Charity
School," then just established at Hampden, Maine, and afterwards trans-
ferred to Bangor ; but he deferred the acceptance of the appointment, hav-
ing in his eye another lield of usefulness, which he thought he might per-
haps occupy to more advantage. He had been greatly exercised concerning
the moral wants of the West, and especially in respect to the establishment
of a Theological Seminary that might furnish ministers for that destitute
and rapidly increasing population ; and he resolved on making a personal
effort to meet the exigency. Accordingly, lie resigned his charge at New-
port in November, 1816, in spite of the r<.monstrauces of his congregation
who were ardently attached to him, ami journeyed into the central part of
the State of Ohio, with a view, if possible, to carry into effect his benevo-
lent purpose. He, however, failed to secure the necessary co-operation in
his enterprise, and returned, after a few months, hopeless of being able to
accomplish it.
It had been remarked by his friends, previous to his setting out on his
journey to the West, that there were some things in his appearance and
conduct which it seemed difficult to account for ; and, on his return, it
became quite manifest that his reason had sustained a severe shock. This
was attributed by some to his having been unduly excited during the revi-
val, and by others to his having exercised his faculties too intensely in cer-
tain philosophical and theological discussions, in which he had become deeph'
interested. He remained at Newport with his family for some time, and
then went to an asylum, where, after a few months, his mental malady
seemed to be entirely cured. He now journeyed into Maine, and arrange-
ments were made for his establishment in the Divinity School, to which he
had been previously appointed. He removed his family thither in the
spring of 1818; Ijut he resigned his Professorship after holding it about
one year.
After his connection with the Seminary closed, he accepted an invitation
to preach to the Congregational Society on Deer Island, in Penobscot Bay.
Here, without being installed as pastor, he laboured, for the most part very
aci;eptably, for twelve years. During the latter part of the time, he enga-
ged with great zeal in the Temperance Beformation, which was then just
beginning to attract pul)lie notice ; and the ardour whicli he displayed in
the cause, gave offence to a portion of his congregation, and prepared the
way for his separation from them. Having now reached the age of sixty-
five, and considering his prospects of continued usefulness on the island as
at best dubious, he determined to withdraw from public life altogether. He
might have returned to Newport, where the house which he had built, and
the farm on which he had lived, still remained in his possession ; but, as
his associations with the place had been render 'd painful by some previous
experiences, he chose to make a different arrangciuent ; and, accordingly, in
company with his son, he ascended the Penobscot Kiver, purchased a tract
of uncultivated land, and addressed himself vigorously to the work of pre-
ABIJAII WINES. o70
paring for a family establishment. In the spring of 1832, ho was exposed
to great hardships, especially in connection with the inclemency of the
weather; the effect of which upon his health soon became apparent. He
fell under the influence of a morbid nervous affection, accompanied by
extreme depression of spirits, and decided mental alienation — in short, it
was the reappearance of his old disease, in an aggravated form. In the
mouth of August, he was conveyed to the hospital in Charlestown, Mass.,
where he spent his remaining days. He lingered in great suffering till the
11th of February, 1833, when he died in the sixty-seventh year of his age.
His remains were removed to the house of his son-in-law, the Kcv. B. Saw-
yer, in Amesbury, Mass., where his funeral was attended. A Discourse,
commemorative of his life and character, was delivered on the next Sab-
bath, in Mr. Sawyer's meeting-house, by the Rev. Stephen Farley,* which
was afterwards published.
Mr. Wines performed various important services, and received many tes-
timonies of public respect, beyond the ordinary routine of ministerial labour.
He was one of the founders, and for many years a Trustee, of the New Hamp-
shire Missionary Society, and preached one of its anniversary sermons. He
was also a Trustee of the Union Academy, Plainfield, which was originally
intended to be a Seminary for theological, as well as classical, instruction.
In 1813, he was a delegate from the General Association of New Hamp-
shire to the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church at Philadelphia.
He had, at different times, many young men under his care, some of whom
he fitted for College, and others he assisted in their theological studies.
The following is a list of Mr. Wines' publications: — A Sermon on
human depravity, 1804. An Inquiry into the nature of the sinner's ina-
bility to become holy, 1812. A Sermon on vain amusements. A Sermon
entitled "The merely amiable man, no Christian," 1828. A Sermon at the
ordination of B. Sawyer, at Cape Elizabeth, on "the perfection of the
Divine government." A Sermon entitled "The moral young man."
Mr. Wines had twelve children : four of his daughters became wives
of ministers of the Gospel. Mrs. Wines died in March, 1838,
FROM THE REV. KIAH BAYLEY.
East Hardwick, Vt., October 3, 1855.
Rev. and dear Sir: I cheerfully comply with the request contained in your let-
ter of the 27th of September; and the rather as my opportunities for knowing
the Rev. Mr. Wines, and forming a correct judgment of his character, were all
that I could desire. I was well acquainted with him when he was in College,
during the period of his ministry at Newport, and while he was connected with
the Theological Seminary at Bangor.
In stature, he was large, erect, of a commanding aspect, and looking as if he
had been born to be a leader. Ilis features were strong!}' marked, — his nose promi-
nent, his eye large, and his forehead uncommonly well developed — indeed his
personal appearance altogether was highly impressive, and there was an air of
nohility about all his movements.
• Stephen Farley was a native of Hollis, N. H. ; was graduated at Dartmouth College in
1804; was onlaincd pastor of the church in Claremont, N. H., December 24, 1806; waa di«-
nMsseil in April, 1819; afterwards resided in Amesbury, Mass.; and died in 1851. He pub-
lished LcJtiis addressed to Noah Worcester in reply to "his "Bible News,"
376 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
In College, he was one of the best seholars in his class; and he always con-
tinued a vigorous and diligent student, so far as his circumstances would permit,
amidst his manifold professional engagements in after life.
Notwithstanding he was settled in the town where he had spent a considerable
part of his early life, he had a higldy successful ministry, and the people among
whom he laboured were strongly attached to him. It was a circumstance of
some interest that his excellent wife became the manager of the farm which he
liad previously cultivated, that thus he might give himself more entirely to his
work; and the consequence was that bis profiting soon ajjpeared to all, and he
took a high rank among his brethren, not only of the neighbourhood, but of the
State.
As a preacher, Mr. Wines possessed many admirable qualities. His voice
was strong and commanding, but not particularly melodious. His fine person
and natural and easy manner were greatly in his favour. His perceptions were
clear and quick, and he saw the remote relations of things, almost as by intui-
tion. He reasoned with great directness and force, marching forward to his
conclusion by a path so luminous that his hearers generally felt constrained to
follow him. His Calvinism was of the Hopkinsian type, and his preaching was
in a high degree doctrinal. He preached with a boldness and fervour that left
no one in doubt as to the sincerity and strength of his convictions. My old
teacher. Dr. Emmons of Franklin, had a very high estimate of him, both as a
theologian and a preacher.
Mr. Wines was uncommonly gifted in respect to those qualities necessarj^ to
constitute a good teacher. He was engaged in this employment, more or less,
previous to his going to Eangor; and his services in this way were always emi-
nently acceptable and useful. He generally left his mark on the character of
his pupils.
But his highest excellence was his devoted piety — he seemed alwajs ready
to do the will of his Heavenly Father, and always to Jive as if he were longing
to breathe the atmosphere of Heaven. It was manifest to all who witnessed
his daily walk, that the commanding purpose of his life was to glorify God in
the faithful discharge of all his duties. He was pre-eminently an honest man,
and a consistent, every day Christian.
It is now more than thirty years since I saw Mr. Whines; and, as I have
myself already passed my eighty-fifth year, I am unable to give you any more
extended account of him. As he comes up before me in the distance, I still love
and admire him; and, at no distant period, I hope to join him, with other good
men of his generation, who have gone before me, in those blessed employments
of which our best experience on earth has been only a foretaste.
Yours cordially,
KIAH BATLEY.
ELIPIIALET GILLET. o77
ELIPHALET GILLET, D. D.
1795—1848.
FROM THE REV. BENJAMIN TAPPAN, D. D.
Augusta, Me., June 4, 1850.
My dear Sir : Dr. Gillet of Hallowell was my near neighbour for
thirty-seven years, and I was ever accusDomed to regard him as one of my
best friends and counsellors. At your request, I will very cheerfully fur-
nish some brief notices of his life, together with such views of his personal
and official character, as, during the period of my acquaintance with him, I
was led to entertain.
Eliphalet Gillet was born at Colchester, Conn., on the 19th of Novem-
ber, 1768. He was graduated at Dartmouth College in 1791, and was sub-
sequently employed as a teacher in Wethersfield, Conn. He pursued his
theological studies at Newburyport. under the direction of the Rev. Dr.
Spring, and was ordained as the first pastor of the church in Hallowell,
Me., (the first and only place where he had preached as a candidate for set-
tlement,) in August, 1795. Here he laboured to very good acceptance, and,
during some years of his ministry, with very encouraging success, until, at
his request, his connection with his people was dissolved in May, 1827.
He received the degree of D. D. from the University of Vermont in 1824.
At the time of his settlement, the church of which he became pastor was
in its infancy, consisting of but twelve members. No other Congregational
churches existed at that time, within what are now the counties of Kenne-
bec, Franklin, and Somerset, except those of Bloomfield, Winthrop, and
Augusta ; and these were destitute of pastors. In this new and rising
community, it devolved on him to lay the foundations ; and to give not only
to the church and people under his pastoral care, but, to some extent, to
the region around him, an impress and character for many generations.
From the beginning, his influence was exerted in favour of education and
good learning, of social order and refinement, sound morals, evangelical
truth, and vital, practical godliness. The extent and power of this influ-
ence it would not be easy to estimate. To the church of which he was
pastor, two hundred and twenty persons were added during the thirty-two
years of his ministry ; and the number of members, at the time of his dis-
mission, had risen from twelve to about one hundred and fifty.
When the Maine INIissionary Society was organized in 1807, Dr. Gillet
was chosen its Secretary ; and this office he continued to hold until his
death. For the lust twenty years of his life, he had been constantly
employed in watching over its interests, conducting its aff"airs, and seeking
its prosperity. In the cause of Home Missions in the State of Maine, his
heart was bound up ; and he never ceased to pray and labour for its
advancement. Some of the topics of conversation in my last interviews
with him related to its concerns ; and among the subjects of his last thank-
ful acknowledgment, was tlie ability God had given him, so long to attend to
his official duties. Upon him, as Secretary of the institution, came the care
of nearly all the churches ; and for the assiduity and faithfulness with which
he fulfilled his trust he was greatly and deservedly honoured. The feeble
Vol. II. 48
378 TRINITArtlAN CONGREGATIONAL.
churches in the State, and the missionaries sent forth to minister to their
necessities, ever found in him a sympathizing friend and counsellor. In
prosecuting the work committed to him, he did not shrink from any labour
and fatigue, which he tliought himself able to bear. After he had passed
his threescore years and ten, he traversed the wilderness, inquiring into the
state of the new and scattered settlements, and cheerfully partaking of such
accommodations as the log cabin or camp might afford him. When the
business of the Society and the wants of the destitute required his atten-
tion, neither inclement skies nor the winter's cold could detain him. For-
getful of his own case, he lived and laboured for the good of others.
Dr. Gillet was blessed, for the most part, with comfortable health, and
with unimpaire'd vigour and vivacity of mind. The Author of his being
had endowed him with the excellent gift of a fine flow of spirits, and this,
in subordination to the sustaining influences of God's word and grace, he
found a valuable support and a cheering cordial under the burdens and
trials to which he was subjected. This he retained amidst the gradual
decays of age, and never had I known him appear more cheerful and happy
than during the last few months of his life. In the meetings of the Gen-
eral Conference of this State in June, and of the American Board of For-
eign Missions in September, he took a lively interest, and returned home
from them with a mind refreshed by intercourse with Christian friends, and
animated to new zeal and eS'ort by God's continued favour to the kindred
enterprises, — both dear to him, — of Domestic and Foreign Missions.
On the 19th of September, 1848, he returned home from Boston with a
hoarse cold. For nearly a fortnight, however, this did not occasion unusual
distress or alarm; and he was expecting, on the first Sabbath in October, to
administer the sacrament of the Lord's Supper to the church in Hallowell,
and, in the course of the following week, to assist in an ordination in the
town of Phillips. But, on that Sabbath, he was not able to go abroad ; and
his disease assuming a more serious character, on Wednesday, the 11th
instant, a physician was called in, who pronounced the case to be one of
bronchitis. This afi"ection of the throat was followed by neuralgic pains,
afi'ecting at first the limbs chiefly, but afterwards other parts of the system.
From these he suffered most intensely, for several days and nights, with
but little intermission, till he found, as I confidently believe, a termination
of all earthly sorrows in that rest which remaineth for the people of God.
At what period he supposed himself to have been made a subject of
renewing grace, I am not able to state. I think, however, from the best
information I can obtain, that this event occurred during his College life ;
and that he became, while yet an undergraduate, a communicant in the
church. He was not accustomed to converse very freely respecting his own
religious exercises, nor did he preserve any written record of them. But
no one, it is believed, who knew him, called in question the sincerity of his
religious profession, or the genuineness of his Christian character. In his
life, there was such an exemplification of the fruits of the Spirit, of the
meekness and gentleness, the humility and disinterestedness, of Christ, and
such a consecration of himself to the interests of his Kingdom, that no one
could fail to perceive whose he was and whom he served. He did not, at
any time, perhaps, experience that rapturous enjoyment on the one hand,
or that religious depression on the other, to which some Christians are
subject. But he seems to have cherished, with a good degree of constancy,
ELIPIIALET GILLET. 3/9
the Christian hope, and to have partaken, in seasons of perplexity and
trouble, of Christian consolation. He bore the extreme distress of his last
illness, as he had borne other afflictions, with uncomplaining submission
"All's well," he said, "and no one can have greater reason for thankful-
ness than I have." His views of his own sinfulness, he stated, had been at
times overwhelming ; and if he were saved, it must be by a miracle of
grace. He expressed the firmest confidence in that system of religious
doctrine, which he had been accustomed to preach, spoke of the fear of
death as taken away, gave up his family into the hands of God, and, after
some hours of comparative ease and quietness, on the 19th of October,
1848, he closed his earthly career.
Dr. Grillet was of slender size and middling stature. I am not aware
that there was any thing particularly marked in his features, or in the
expression of his countenance; though it certainly indicated intelligence,
good nature, and vivacity. He was one of nature's gentlemen, — a man of
bland and courteous manners, of refined and delicate sensibility. His mind
was of a superior order, and must have received, in the earlier part of his
life, diligent cultivation. He had a fine classical taste, and in the produc-
tions of his pen, was often exceedingly felicitous, in both sentiment and
language. Several of his discourses, rich in thought and expression, were,
by request of those who heard them, given to the press. The following I
believe to be a correct list of his publications : — A Sermon at the ordina-
tion of Hugh Wallis,* 1795. An Oration on the death of Washington, 1800.
A Sermon at the ordination of John Dane,t 1803. A Sermon on Infant
Baptism, 1804. A Fast Sermon, 1808. A Sermon before the Maine Mis-
sionary Society, 1810. A Fast Sermon, 1811. A Thanksgiving Sermon,
1811. A Sermon at the ordination of Harvey Loomis, 1811. A Sermon
at the ordination of Daniel Kcndrick, 1812. A Sermon on the National
Fast, 1812. A Sermon at the dedication of a meeting-house in Vassair.
borough, 1817. A Sermon at the funeral of Mrs. Fillebrown in Winthrop,
1817. A Thanksgiving Sermon, 1819. A Fast Sermon on Intemperance,
1821. His annual Missionary lleports were much and justly admired, and
the charm of his communications to the Christian Mirror has been very
generally acknowledged.
I have mentioned his refined and delicate sensibility : I may add that he
possessed all those moral and social as well as intellectual qualities, that
were fitted to make him a general favourite in society. Even those whose
religious viev/s diflered materially from his own, could not but love him as
a man, and respect him for his conscientiousness and consistency as a dis-
ciple and minister of Jesus Christ.
In the earlier part of his ministry, he was somewhat addicted to meta-
physical discussions, and was no mean proficient in that school of Theology,
at the head of which were Hopkins, Emmons, and Spring. He loved an
argument, and was a ready, logical, and keen debater. Seldom, however,
did he introduce into the pulpit any doctrines or shades of doctrine, in
* Hugh Wai,lis was graduated at Dartmouth College in 1791; was ordained pastor of the
church in Bath, Me., December 9, 1795; was dismissed July 16, 1800; and died in 1848.
t .loHN Dane was a native of Andover, Mass. ; was graduated at Dartmouth College in ISOO ;
was ordained pastor of the church in Pittstown, Me., I'ebruary 1(5, KS(J3; was dismissed in
1804. The Kev. .Jonathan Greenleaf, in his Sketches of the Ecclesiastical History of Maine,
says — " The ministry of Mr. Dane was short, but ruinous to the church and society. He came
into possession of all their parsonage property, and in about eleven months was dismissed foi
gross immoralities."
380 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
which Trinitarian and Calvinistic Divines are not generally agreed. These
he taught with great plainness and maintained with unyielding constancy.
In the year 1805, he was married to Mary, daughter of the Rev. John
Gurley of Lebanon, (Exeter,) Conn. They had eleven children, — four
sons and seven daughters. Two of the number died in infancy, and six
have died in youth and manhood. The widow and three daughters still
survive.
Hoping that the above notices of a truly excellent and useful minister
may answer your purpose,
I am yours very cordially and respectfully,
B. TAPPAN.
JESSE APPLETON, D. D.=^
1795—1819.
Jesse Appleton was born at New Ipswich, N. H., November 17, 1772.
He was a descendant in the fifth generation from Samuel Appleton, who
came to Ameiica in 1635. His father, Francis Appleton, who died
at an advanced age in 1816, combined an uncommonly vigorous intellect
with remarkable discretion and sobriety of character, and an enlightened,
consistent piety. His mother also was a strong minded woman, and an
earnest, decided Christian. The family were somewhat straitened in their
worldly circumstances, by reason of which the subject of this sketch was
designed to a mecharjical trade ; but so strong was his early predilection for
books, that his father consented to his going to College, — his brother mean-
while proflfering his aid to defray the expense of his education. He was
fitted for College at an Academy in his native town, and entered at Dart-
mouth in 1788 at the age of sixteen.
His collegiate course was marked by great diligence and success in study,
by the strictest regard to method in all his habits, and by the most irre-
proachable purity of morals. While his attainments in every department
were highly respectable, he was especially distinguished for his knowledge
of the classics and for his skill in English composition. He graduated with
the highest reputation in 1792.
For nearly two years after he left College, he was engaged as an instructer
of youth at Dover and Amherst, N. H. In both places he was alike suc-
cessful as a teacher, and popular in his general intercourse with society.
His amiable dispositions, his bland and winning manners, and his keen but
delicate wit, always discreetly employed, gave him great favour wherever
he was known.
Having resolved to devote himself to the ministry, he passed through a
course of theological study under the venerable Dr. Lathrop of West
Springfield, with whom he formed an affectionate and enduring intimacy.
He was accustomed through life to consult Dr. Lathrop in all cases of diffi-
culty, as the person to whose judgment on perplexed and delicate questions
• Tappan'8 Fun. Serm. — Memoir prefixed to his works.
JESSE APPLETON 38x
he attached the highest importance ; while Dr. Lathrop had an unbounded
respect for both his intellectual and moral character, and often referred
with a sort of proud satisfaction to his highly honourable course in life.
Mr. Appleton was licensed to preach in the summer of 1795, and from
his first appearance in the pulpit, attracted unusual attention, by the
weighty, well digested, and well expressed thought with which his sermons
were enriched, and the dignified and impressive manner in which they were
delivered. During the two years that intervened between his licensure and
his settlement, he preached in several towns, in both Massachusetts and
New Hampshire, and finally accepted an invitation to settle over the church
in Hampton, N. H., where he was ordained in February, 1797. At the
time he accepted this call, he had also to consider another urgent one from
Jjeicester, Mass., and, though the latter was regarded as, in a worldly point
of view, the more desirable, yet there were special reasons why he thought
the providence of Grod directed him to Hampton, and that with him was
enough to form the basis of a decision.
In the year 18U0, he was married to Elizabeth, daughter of the Hon.
Robert Means of Amherst, N. H., — a lady every way worthy of his choice,
who through life graced every relation that she sustained. They had six
children, — three sons and three daughters. Several of the children have,
with their parents, passed to other scenes. One of the daughters is the
wife of the Hon. Franklin Pierce, President of the United States.
He remained at Hampton, unremittingly devoted to the duties of his
office, during a period of ten years. It was his rule to write but one ser-
mon a week, but that was always elaborated with the utmost care, and
might well enough have been given into the hands of the printer without
revision. His pi'ayers, which were remarkable for copiousness, pertinence,
and felicitous arrangement, were something more than the unstudied effu-
sions of a devout spirit ; — they were the result of much previous reflection,
and showed a thoroughly disciplined mind, as well as an humble and filial
heart. He was most exemplary in his attention to the children of his
parish, being accustomed to meet them for a quarterly catechetical exercise,
which he conducted in a manner suited altogether to the measure of their
intelligence. He contributed many important articles to the earlier volumes
of the Panoplist, chiefly under the signatures of Leighton and Owen ; and
had a leading agency in the establishment of the Piscataqua Evangelical
Magazine, one of the most respectable religious periodicals of the day.
While Theology was his favourite study, and the duties of the ministry were
always held paramount to every other employment, he found time to devote
to subjects connected with general literature, and especially to the ancient
languages, which he considered as of great importance to the cultivation of
a good taste and to the general discipline of the faculties.
Mr. Appleton, during his residence at Hampton, showed himself, in
various ways, the friend of liberal education. His influence as a Trustee of
that venerable and flourishing institution — Phillips Academy at Exeter,
was highly important, and his judgment and counsels were not a little relied
on by his associates in its direction. He was particularly impressed with
the importance of a more thorough theological education than had been
common in this country ; and several young men, in their preparation for
the ministry, enjoyed the benefit of his instructions. So much distinetioB
382 TKIIsITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL
had he gained as a theologian that, in 1803, when he was but just past
thirty years of age, and had been but about six years settled in the minis-
try, he was one of the most prominent candidates for the Professorship of
Theology in Harvard College.
In 1807, Mr, Appleton was chosen to succeed the Kev. Dr. McKeen as
President of Bowdoin College ; and, after much anxious deliberation, ho
accepted the appointment, and was inducted into the office in December of
that year.
In 1810, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from
Harvard College.
Notwithstanding he had always been a great economist of time, his life,
after he became President of the College, was an increasingly laborious
one. Beside the regular routine of his official duties, he had much of pas-
toral labour to perform in the neighbourhood, owing to the comparative
destitution of religious privileges ; and then his reputation was such that
his services were called for on many public occasions, both at home and
abroad. He preached not only before the Bible, Missionary, Education,
and Peace, Societies of Maine, but also before the American Board of Com-
missioners for Foreign Missions, before the Legislature of Massachusetts
at the Annual Election, before the Convention of the Congregational Clergy
of Massachusetts, before the Massachusetts Society for the suppression of
intemperance, at various ordinations, &c. The amount of labour which he
was known to have taken upon himself, gave great uneasiness to many of
his friends, and some of them ventured to expostulate with him in respect
to it ; but such was his estimate of the duties that devolved upon him, that
he could not be persuaded to relax his eiforts, till his constitution had
become effectually undermined. About the time of his sustaining a severe
domestic affliction in the loss of a beloved child in 1817, he took a violent
cold, from the effects of which he never fully recovered. He, however,
continued his accustomed course of duty till the early part of 1819, when
an alarming disease (an affection of the larynx) began rapidly to develope
itself. He made a visit of some length to his friends in Amherst, in the
hope that relaxation from mental toil might serve to arrest the disease ;
and as his absence from College was prolonged beyond the opening of the
term in May, he addressed to the students a most affectionate and excellent
letter, full of wise, paternal counsel, which is preserved among his published
works. He returned to Brunswick after a few weeks, but without any
essential improvement of his health. On the 12th of the succeeding Octo-
ber, a profuse hemorrhage ensued, which took from both himself and his
friends the last hope of his recovery. He lingered in the most humble,
tranquil, submissive, state of feeling, giving forth from amidst his gradual
decays, lessons of love and wisdom to all, till the 12th of November, when
his spirit was kindly released from its earthly tabernacle. There was every
demonstration of respect for his memory by the citizens of the place, as
well as the community at large, and a sermon was preached in connection
with his funeral solemnities by the Rev. B. Tappan of Augusta, from 1
Cor. XV. 41. "One star differeth from another star in glory." It was
afterwards published.
The following is a list of Dr. Appleton's publications: — A dedication
Sermon at Hampton, N. H., 1797. A Sermon at the ordination of Asa
Rand, Gorham, 1809. A Sermon at the ordination of Jonathan Cogswell,
JESSE APPLETON. 383
Saeo, 1810. A Sermon at the ordination of Pteubeu Nason,* Freeport,
1810. A Sermon at tlie ordination of Benjamin Tappan, Augusta, 1811.
A Discourse on the death of Frederick Southgate, 1813. Massachusetts
Election Sermon, 1814. A Thanksgiving Sermon at Brunswick, 1815. A
Sermon before the Society of Bath and vicinity for the suppression of public
vices, 1816. A Sermon at the ordination of Enos Merrill, Freeport, 1816.
An Address before the Massachusetts Society for the suppression of intem-
perance, 1816. A Sermon before the Cumberland Society for the sup-
pression of public vices, 1816. A Sermon before the American Board of
Commissioners for Foreign Missions, 1817. A Sermon at the fonnation
of the Maine Education Society, 1818. Addresses delivered at the Annual
Commencements from 1808 to 181l^, 1820. Lectures delivered at Bowdoin
College and occasional Sermons ; with a Memoir of the author, 1822.
Dr. Appleton's works were published in two volumes, octavo, in 1837.
FROM THE REV. PROFESSOR PACKARD.
Bowdoin College, October, 16, 1848
Reverend and dear Sir : At your request, I communicate to you my views of
the character of the late President Appleton. My personal knowledge of him, I
ought to say, is mainly that of a pupil, and a very youthful one, during his Presi-
dency; and I therefore rely for my statements very much on a long and familiar
acquaintance with those who knew him best, and could appreciate his superior
intellectual powers and his pre-eminent excellencies of life and character. His
traits both of mind and heart were so marked, however, that the difficulty is, not
so much to determine what they were, as to exhibit them in their due proportions
and in a manner worthy of the distinguished subject.
No one could have casually met President Appleton without being impressed
with the idea that he was an uncommon man. His commanding figure and pecu-
liarly impressive bearing, his rare graces of person, the fine contour of his head,
the highly intellectual cast of his features, of which the engraving in the last edi-
tion of his works conveys scarcely an idea, and a singular combination of native
dignity and high refinement both of mind and manners, at once indicated a man
of no common stamp. To these external endowments if you add a clear, strong,
acute, and active intellect, capable of grasping and analyzing the most abstruse
subjects, and exercised by long and severe discipline, never satisfied with superfi-
cial views, but peculiarly addicted to analytical investigations and thorough, pro-
found research; an imagination worthy of a poet, with a taste refined and delicate:
a liveliness of humour and keenness of wit, which, although always subjected to
severe restraint, yet often broke out in playful sallies; a warm sympathy for his
lellow men and a nobleness of heart whicli readily and cheerfully embraced what-
ever gave promise of good; a high-toned moral sense, comprehensive and yet of
utmost delicacy, which could not brook the idea of wrong-doing and shrunk almost
instinctively from every thing low or base; an abiding sense of responsibility
prompting to a life of earnest living, and a piety, informing his whole character
and controlling his whole life, — you have the elements of a remarkable man. If I
am not strangely deceived, such was President Appleton: all these traits existed
in full vigour in him. I doubt whether a whisper of detraction or depreciation
has been heard concerning him from any source worthy of notice. All classes and
conditions of men were pervaded with reverence and regard for his mind, attain-
ments, and character. The closest intimacy revealed nothing in his intellectual or
* Reuben Nason was a native of Dover, N. H. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 1802;
was ordained pastor of the church in Freeport, February 7, 1810; was dismissed March 23,
1815; afterwards engaged in teaching, and died January 15, 1835, aged fifty-six.
384 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
moral character to disappoint the expectations always excited by his first appear-
ance. As a pastor, he was universally respected and beloved, and eminently
successful as the head of a College. When scarcely past the middle of life, he fell
under the pressure of multiplied labours and wasting disease; but few among us
liave left a more solid reputation for elegant scholarship, sound learning, and pro-
found research in morals and Theology, or for whatever adorns and ennobles man.
The estimate formed by the ablest and best men of his talents and learning and of
the value of his labours, might satisfy any common ambition. In weight of
character no one, I apprehend, surpassed him; and the opinions of none of his
(Contemporaries on abstruse questions of moral and intellectual philosophy and
Theology, or On the duties of life, merited or commanded more respect.
The characteristic traits of Dr. Appleton's intellectual and moral character, of
which a summary has just been given, may be learned from his published works,
and yet more from the testimony of all who were conversant with him and knew
his habits of thinking, and study, and life. Of the strength and elastic vigour and
clearness of his understanding, his works aflbrd abundant evidence. The most
difficult topics in morals and mental philosophy and Theology were, from the com-
mencement of his professional career, fiimiliar subjects of contemplation and study ;
and his discussion of them was distinguished pre-eminently by sound logic and
clear and convincing argumentation. Of his active inquiry, moreover, into topics
of this nature, in Theology particularly, there is evidence in a manuscript in which
he was accustomed to note down his thoughts and conclusions, as they occurred.
This manuscript, I may state in passing, contains a striking illustration of his
characteristic caution in all such inquiries. It bears the following caption — " The
following remarks are made with great diffidence and under a sensible convic-
tion of my own ignorance in general, but especially my inability fully to com-
prehend those profound and intricate subjects to which these observations
relate. Certainly it becomes me to entertain but a moderate degree of confi-
dence in them, until I know what answers may be made to them by those of a
contrary opinion." At a later date the following is subjoined: "Since writing
the above, I have had opportunity of using the most of these arguments and
presenting these objections in conversation with those who hold contrary opini-
ons. I have increased reason to think them of weight."
Dr. Appleton's Lectures on the Eternity of Future Punishment, on the Atone-
ment, and on Demoniacs, may be referred to ais affording favourable specimens
of the characteristics above mentioned. One proof of the superior cast of hia
understanding was always conspicuous in his marked predilection for analyti-
cal investigation. As is noticed in the Memoir prefixed to his works, Avith
particular reference to his Baccalaureate Addresses, in the writings of few of
the present day can there be found within the same compass more passages
which contain great elementary principles expressed with the sententious
brevity of ancient wisdom. •
I have alluded to his fondness for discussing difficult and intricate questions of
morals, metaphysics, and Theology. Indeed so marked was this tendency, that
his common conversation was apt to take the form of discussion and argument,
although he was the last man to engage in debate for the sake of displaying
his own strength and skill. The Rev. Dr. Spring of Newburyport, Mass., once
said of him, when he was yet a young man, — " No man knows better how to ask
ft question than Mr. Appleton." In the Socratic method he was eminentl}^
skilful. On one occasion, while travelling in vacation, he fell in company at an
hotel with the celebrated Chief Justice Parsons of Massachusetts. In the eve-
ning they engaged in discussion of some points of Theology on which their views
did not entirely harmonize, and a large portion of the night was spent in debate.
A man like Parsons would not have been drawn into so protracted discussion,
if he had not come into contact with a mind kindred to his own.
JESSE AFPLETON. 385
It has occurred to me that ordinary readers, and especially young men, may
rashly conclude, from a cursory examination of Dr. Appleton's works, that he
was not distinguished for originality. There is so entire an absence of startling
thought, rhetorical flourish, and what bears the appearance of bold and striking
speculation, — a besetting evil of the popular discourses of our da}', that superficial
minds will look in vain for what most captivates their attention. He was incapa-
ble of a vain glorious display, and besides, was so habituall}^ circumsjject in his
opinions, he had so carefully sounded the depths of moral, intellectual, and theo-
logical science, that for him to launch out at random into the sea of speculation,
or to indulge in a mere show of intellectual skill and adroitness, would have
been as unworthy of his unquestioned intellectual pre-eminence, as of the sacred
majesty of truth. While, however, the discriminating reader will seek in vain
for novelties, he will soon discover that he is holding converse with a mind of
truly original power.
A decisive proof of superior intellectual power is seen in the influence whicli
men exert over the minds of others. The Rev. Dr. Anderson, one of the Secre-
taries of the American Board, who graduated during his Presidency, in a private
letter, after remarking on the great influence he exerted over the minds of his
pupils, adds, — " I have been placed in circumstances to see much of not a few
great men in the Church of Christ; but I have been conversant with only a few,
a very few, whose attributes of power seemed to me to be quite equal to his.
The clearness of his conceptions was almost angelic."
My inolinaticns would lead me to dwell in this oonntction on President Apple-
ton's character as a teacher and governor of youth; but the limits assigned to a
letter forbid. This point, however, is treated somewhat at length in the "memoir,"
and I should but repeat much of what may be found there. But you must allow
me, in passing, to allude to him, as a model of earnest, ever wakeful, conscientious
fidelity; to his mastery over the minds of all who came under his charge; to his
success in imbuing them with his own love of truth and of patient, thorough investi-
gation; to the skill with which he moulded their modes of thinking, and, above
all, his power over their consciences. The gentleman mentioned above thus bears
his testimony to this point; "If I am fitted to do any good in the world, I owe
what intellectual adaptation I have, very much to his admirable training, especi-
ally while he led us through his favourite Butler. What an interest he threw
over that book! I have vivid recollections of some of his theological lectures,
and of the closing part of his sermon on conscience. It is often with thrilling
emotion I remember the powerful influence he exerted at certain times over my
own mind." An instance of the powerful effect of his theological lectures is thus
related by another of his pupils in a letter which I received some years since.
'•A young man, as he was going out from one of these lectures, remarked to a
fellow student, that he considered himself one step nearer hell, than when he
entered the chapel; for he believed what they had just heard to be the truth, and
yet he was not benefitted by it."
As a preacher. Dr. Appleton was among the most effective of his day. His
power in the pulpit arose from a combination of excellencies. His appearance was
remarkabl}^ impressive. His commanding figure and striking physiognomy,
together with his fine voice, distinct and emphatic elocution, and a bearing uncom-
monly dignified and yet graceful, his deep solemnity, great earnestness and
sincerity, produced, as it always seemed, by his own thorough conviction of the
nature and importance of the truths he was urging, and the forcible style and clear
and convincing argument of his discourse, always arrested attention. Yet his
manner, impressive as it was in the highest degree, was never impassioned . The
Rev. Dr. Gillet of Ilallowell, who has just been called from his long and faithful
labours to his reward, a few months since remarked to me in reply to an inquiry
respecting Dr. Appleton's characteristics as a preacher, — " The chief trait in, his
.Vol. n. 49
38<) TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
preaching and which kept an audience ahno.st breathless, hanging on his lips, was
the lucid argument of liis discourse. His reasoning, though not unfrequently
profound, was always simple and plain; and not only arrested the attention of the
heiirer, but rivetted it, and seldom failed of leaving conviction upon the mind.
' He reasoned out of the Scriptures;' and if any withheld credence as to the point
at issue, they could not detect fallacy in the logical process designed to sustain it.
As there was great fairness of argument, one could not see why he should not
yield his assent." The Rev. Dr. Nichols of Portland, in the sketch of his character
prctixed to the edition of his Baccalaureate Addresses published soon after his
decease, thus expresses his views of his manner as a public speaker: " It were
difficult to conceive of a manner more earnest and rivetting, than that in which
these addresses were delivered. It was an earnestness capable of transferring to
the subject the praise due to the speaker, and of leading the less prompt of aii])re-
hension to imagine they had felt the power of the sentiment, when thc}* had
rather been ati'ected by the interest it excited in those around them, and by the
energ)'^ of interior conviction with which it was uttered. No one perhaps m'es
ever better acquainted with the art of enchaining an attention he had seized, than
President Appleton; and, if the allusion may be permitted, of kneading the appli-
cation of his subject into a mind he had once compressed within his grasp."
Dr. Appleton's style of preaching in the latter part of his life doubtless derived
its character somewhat, — although not to the degree some would imagine, for his
parish sermons exhibited his peculiar characteristics, — from the class of minds
he was most frequently called upon to address, as well as from his habits of
thought and study. Hence the logical clement is predominant. Appeals are
made to the understanding and conscience, rather than to the feelings. The
claims of religion are made to appear reasonable. Moral obligation is urged
with great clearness and force. The authority of God and his law, and the
unrea,sonableness, the guilt, and danger of disregarding it, are presented with
commanding ability and effect. One of his Hampton sermons, entitled, " God's
ways equal," and that on Conscience, are characteristic. It might perhaps
occur to some, that in the topics of his preaching he gave undue predominance to
the law and its sanctions. Indeed he himself remarked to a friend on his death
bed, that if he were to live his life over again, he should preach Christ more. It can-
not however be doubted, that the influence of such preaching as his, Avas eminently
adapted to impress a sense of right and wrong, with their immutable character
and eternal retributions, and was of incalculable importance to the minds which
he was anxious to mould and to imbue with a .sense of God and eternal things.
I must not omit to refer to his manner in prayer. It was singularly solemn
and impressive. There was more in it than I have witnessed in any man, that
realized my conceptions of true worship; such profound awe, such humilitj',
such pathos, such filial confidence and submission. No one could listen to him
in the devotions of the sanctuary, the college chapel or the family circle, without
the feeling that he was holding converse with heaven. It was once said by an
idvanced and eminently devoted Christian, that it was worth a journey to Bruns-
wick to attend Commencement to hear President Appleton pray.
As may be inferred from statements already made, there was nothing in the
private life of Dr. ^\ppleton to detract from the impression which his public
api)earance uniformly conveyed. Every where his manners and personal haliits
were such as characterize the most refined society. He was an accom](lished
gentleman. He enjoyed society as much as any man, and entered with great zest
into conversation, particularl}' when the topics introduced were such as to excite
intellectual effort. There was that in him which repressed the intrusion of
trifling or folly into his presence. He had however no pride of office, although
he could not lose sight of the responsibility attached to the Christian ministry or
.to the elevated station he held. Those who were in habits of familiar intercourse
JESSE APPLETON. 387
with him, cannot forget the delicate and graceful humour and keen wit in which
he often indulged in his family and among his friends. Few such homes can be
found us that in which he was the revered and beloved head. Among all classes
of society he secured for himself unmingled respect, veneration, and atlection.
But the crowning excellence of Dr. Appleton was his moral and religious
character. And here I feel how inadequately I can even sketch his lofty moral
tone — his saint-like purity, the delicacy and refinement of his sensibility to moral
distinctions, his magnanimity of soul, his deep and warm sympathies; — in a
word, the loveliness, the elevation, and the holiness, of his private life. I am
confident that I but speak the sentiments of all who knew him, when 1 adopt
the language in which he has been spoken of, as "the lamented Appletou of
blessed memory." It was so apparent that he loved truth for its own sake
and so abhorred wrong for its inherent baseness, he so thoroughly contemned
insincerity and intrigue, he had so strong a regard for justice, and so keen a
sense of responsibilitj', he was so candid, and so scrupulous in his respect for
the opinions and rights of others, that, as a man of letters, as a moralist, a
philosopher and a theologian, he exerted an influence beyond most of his
equals. As a pastor, as a public man, and in the relations of common life, his
tone and bearing were far above the lot of common humanity. It was enough
to ascertain what his opinions were or his decision in any case of perplexity, to
be satisfied that only the strongest reasons would justify a different opinion
or a departure from his decision. The fact that he was a pastor added to the
sacredness and charm of that holy profession, and his becoming a President of
a College imparted new dignit}- and sacredness to that high and responsible
station.
Of the character of his piety, in addition to what has already been said, I
would only state that it corresponded with the mental and moral traits which
have been ascribed to him. It was rational, conscientious, deep, and thorough.
It shed a holy influence around him. No one could be in his presence without
receiving the impression, that there was a man who held intimate converse with
Heaven. Beyond most men he had a profound sense of God and eternal things.
His piety was spii'itual. In a private journal, under date of December, I8I4,
is found the following: "One week of tender, lively, and prayerful views of
God, and Christ, and the Gospel, is better than years of intellectual research
that has no near connection with Jesus and his religion. Oh, God, make me
spiritual!" He had an habitual sense of unworthiness, at times so intense as
to utter itself in expressions of prof(mnd self-abasement. A former instructer
in the College has informed me, that on entering his stud}'' one evening, he
observed the President to be in an unusually thoughtful mood. The President'
told him that it was liis birth-da}', and he had been reflecting on the unprofit-
ableness of his past life. Of whom, however, could it be more truly said, as
has been said of him, that the motto of his life was exertion and duty 1 I will
close what I propose to say on this point in the language of a letter from the
Rev. Dr. Cummings of Portland, who was an instructer in the College at the
time of his decease, and used frequently to conduct the devotional exercises of
the President's family by his bedside — "On one of these occasions I had the
most instructive and impressive demonstrations of his humility and sole
dependance for salvation on Jesus Christ our Saviour. If any man might hope
for Ilraven on the ground of his own righteousness, I suppose it will be conce-
ded that President Appleton might; but I never heard a man more fully and
une(iuivocally abjure such a basis of hope than he. I distinctly recollect his
once closing a conversation on this subject with the following lines of Watts,
uttered with a manner and emphasis peculiarly his own,
'• Jesus to thy dear, faithful hands
Mv naked soul I trust."
388 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
I fear, my dear Sir, that I have exceeded the limits of a letter; and
yet I know not how I could have said less in an attempt to portray the character
of President Appleton. No one is more conscious than myself how far tha
picture I have drawn falls below the merits of the original.
With great respect, I subscribe myself
Your friend and servant,
A. S. PACKARD.
FROM THE REV. JOTHAM SEWALL.
Chesterville, January 20, 1848.
My dear Sir: I was well acquainted with Dr. Appleton after he came to
reside in Maine, and held him in very high estimation as a man, a minister, and
President of the College. As I saw him in some peculiar circumstances, I will
cheerfully give you the results of my observation upon his character.
In tiie year 1816, there was an unusual attention to religion in Brunswick,
the place of Dr. Appleton's residence. The Congregational church there had,
at that time, no settled minister, and their reliance for ministerial services was
chiefly or entirely on the officers of the College. Dr. Appleton wrote to me a
very urgent request that I would come and spend a little time labouring among
them. I accordingly went early in the fall. Soon after my arrival there, I
called on the Doctor, and, after some conversation, he was about giving me the
names of various persons whom I might call upon, intimating their difEerent
states ofmiLd, that I might converse with them mo.^e inielligontly. I obseived
to him that 1 was but little acquainted there, and might not be able readily to
find them. He then asked me if I had a horse that would go in a carriage; and
upon my answering in the affirmative, he said, " Let him be harnessed then in
my chaise, and I will go with you : I believe I can be spared from college duties
this afternoon." So we rode off a few miles to a neighbourhood, where there
were a number that needed visiting. I observed to the Doctor on the way that
I had laboured considerably as a missionary, and had got into the habit of
introducing religious conversation without much ceremony, and sometimes so
abruptly as to wound some persons' feelings, and possibly I might do it that
afternoon in a way that he would not think judicious. He replied that he had
no doubt that that would be managed well enough. As we called at different
houses, the people would inquire whether we would not have something to cat
or drink. I would say in reply, — "No; that is not what we came for; we
want to have religious conversation; and if 3^ou will collect those of your
family who can conveniently come together, we shall be glad." So they would
gather as many as they could, and I would generally introduce the conversation,
by asking some question in regard to the interests of the soul; and when the
subject was once broached, tlic Doctor would follow on in a most interesting
way, and deal with the understanding and the conscience in great discretion
and fidelity. If nothing was said by any member of the family about having
a prayer, I would say, "Come, don't you want to hear Dr. xippleton pray
before we go ?" and the answer was always, "Yes." The Bible would then
be brought, and sometimes he would pray, and sometimes refer it to me. We
made about a dozen such visits that afternoon. On our return, he said to me,—
"I never had so strong a desire to perform this part of a parish minister's
duty before in my life." It seemed to me that if he could only have some one
to go with him and break the ice, he would do nobly. He had been more con-
versant with books than with persons. There I preached for months with the
Doctor for my hearer, from Sabbath to Sabbath; though I sometimes felt that
it was almost a sin to have it so, knowing how much more capable he was of
giving instruction than myself
i
JESSE APPLETON. 38§
During my stay at Brunswick, I frequently called on Dr. Appleton, and
always found him sociable, agreeable, and instructive, but he never made any
remarks to me respecting my own preaching. On one occasion, when I was
about leaving the place, I called with a determination to draw from him some
criticisms u^jon my public services, by which I might profit. I found him affa-
ble, as usual. I observed to him that we were reminded in the Bible of the
impropriety of noticing a mote in another's eye, when we have a beam in our
own. " Yes," said he. " Well, Sir, I had thought of reminding you of what
strikes me as a small defect in your manner, if you will give me leave to do
so." " Oh do, Sir," was his rejjly. " When you become earnest in preaching
and sometimes in conversation, 3-ou have a rather unpleasant, and what seems
to me an unnatural, glare of the eye. I hope you will excuse me, Sir." "0
certainly." I waited a little, and became satisfied that I should get nothing
from him, unless I came out in direct terms. I said, "Dr. Appleton, I have
preached here for so long a time, have often called on you, but have never heard
from you a single remark in respect to my preaching. Father Spring of New-
buryport would hone me oflF sometimes, when I preached for him." After a
short pause, he said, " I thought you had quite an odd kind of text last
Sabbath." " Yes, Sir, I supposed you would think so." (It was, — " a golden
bell and a pomegranate.") " An excellent sermon. Sir, to be sure; but one of
its principal excellencies was, that it had so little to do with the text." So
I got something pretty shrewd and keen at last. He took occasion, in the same
connection, to make some very judicious remarks in regard to the inexpediency
of frequently using texts in the way of accommodation. He was a man of
great comprehension and acuteness of mind, of excellent judgment and com-
mon sense, and capable of doing honour to any station, however exalted.
l''ours with sincere regard,
JOTHAM SEWALL.
JOHN SMITH, D. D *
1796—1831.
John Smith was the son of Deacon Joseph Smith, and was born at Bel-
chertown, Mass., March 5, 1706. His earlier years were spent chiefly upon
a farm. He entered Dartmouth College, at the age of twenty-four, in
1790, and was graduated in 1791. He prosecuted his studies preparatory
to the ministry under the direction of the Eev. Dr. Emmons, and was
licensed to preach by the Mendon Association in 1796. The same year in
which he was licensed, he received a call to settle in Pelham, N. H., which
he declined. Shortly after, he was invited to settle as colleague pastor with
the Rev. Abner Bayley.t over the church in Salem, N. H.; and, having
accepted this invitation, he was ordained on the 4th of January, 1797.
Here he continued labouring faithfully and acceptably for nearly twenty
years. He resigned his charge on the 21st of November, 1816; and on
the 26th of November, 1817, was installed pastor of the church in Wen-
ham, Mass. Having exercised his ministry there for a short time, he waa
* Amer. Quart. Reg. XIV. — Hist, of the Jlcndon Association. — :M?. from his friends.
f Abner Bavlev was born in Newbury, Mass., in 1710; was graduated at Harvard College
in 1736; was ordained pastor of the church in Salem, X. II., January 30, 1740; and died
March 10, 1798, aged eighty-two.
390 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
chosen Professor of Theology in tlie Theological Seminary at Bangor, Me.
He accepted this appointment, was dismissed from his pastoral charge Sep-
tember 8, 1819, and was, soon after, inducted into the Professorship, which
office he continued to hold till tlie close of his life.
Aliuut the middle of February, 1831, ho was attacked with a severe cold,
which seated itself upon his lungs, and, on the 7th of April following, ter-
minated his life. Towards the close of March, his strength seemed to
revive, and, for a few days, there were hopeful indications of his recovery;
but, on the night preceding the first of April, his disease returned upon
him with renewed violence, and, after a week of exhaustion and suffering,
the silver cord was broken. His religious exercises during his illness, were
very strongly marked, indicating the most mature preparation for a change
of worlds. The Seminary with which he had been connected, occupied his
latest thoughts and regards, and the last intelligible words that he uttered,
were an earnest invocation of the Divine blessing on that School of the
Prophets, ills dying scene was more than ti'auquil — it was eminently tri-
umphant.
Dr. Smith published a Treatise on Infant Baptism ; two Sermons on the
National Fast, I8lt2 ; a Sermon on occasion of tiie return of Peace, 1815 :
a Sermon to the Senior class in the Theological Seminary, 1822 ; a Sermon
before the Maine Missionary Society, 1830; a Sermon at the ordination of
Samuel II. Peckham, Gray, Maine.
Dr. Smith was married in 1798 to Hannah Hardy of Bradford, Mass.
She survived him, and is now (1851) the wife of the Hon. Judge Richard-
son, of Pelham, N. H.
FROM THE REV. S. L. POMEROY, D. D.
Missionary Rooms, Boston, October 25, 1850.
Dear Sir: My acquaintance with Dr. Smith began in the summer of 1825,
when I was ordained as pastor of the First Congregational church in Bangor.
He was then, I think, not far from sixty years of age, and from that time till
his death 1 knew him intimately.
In personal appearance he was tall, — six feet or more, erect, well proportioned,
of rather lean habit, and a slow gait. His eyes were small, keen, expressive,
and winked rapidly when he was at all interested or excited. His lips were thin
and compressed, his nose and chin somewhat pointed, and his complexion
slightly sallow and bilious. The general exjiression of his countenance was
pleasant, indicative of firmness, and the smile that not unfrequently passed over
his features, very agreeable.
His natural temper 1 think must have been quick, though, when I knew him,
it was well disciplined, and under good control. He was independent, firm,
kind hearted, of keen and ready wit, full of anecdotes that had a sharp point,
and a very sociable and agreeable companion, though decidedly " slow of speech."
His mind, whatever may have been its original characteristics, was, when I
first heard him, strongly argumentative and logical. Mental and moral Philoso
phy and Systematic Theology were the study of his life. If I mistake not, he
had originally a good deal of imagination, and occasionally, in the warmth of an
argument, it would break forth. But its flights were short — it had never been
cultivated. Poetry, rhetoric, polite literature, and works of taste, had nc
charms for him. The book, the essay, the sermon, that did not prove something,
was to him trivial and insipid. His perceptions were clear, his discriminations
nice and accurate, and his mental tread, if I may so speak, was strong and
JOHN SMITH. 391
heavy. He seldom or never retreated, and an antagonist was sure to fed; if he
did not confess, his intellectual power. His academic education v/as commenced
rather late in life, and his earl}^ training had evidently been defective. He often
violated the rules of orthography, and sometimes even of syntax; yet his words
were Mell chosen, and his meaning clear. He was not a man of general litera
ture nor of extensive reading.
His Theology was of the school of Emmons, whose pupil he had been, and
whom he ever held in the highest esteem and veneration. He framed his ser-
mons after the model of his distinguished teacher, always ending with a series
of logical inferences, and a close application to the conscience. In delivering his
discourses, he stood erect, and read his manuscript with very little action, yet
witli an occasional gesture, of which he seemed unconscious. In his youth he
had been afflicted with a " stammering tongue." By dint of effort, however,
heiiad, in a good degree, overcome it; though it was often perceptible when he
encountered a word beginning with b, p, d, or t. Not unfrequently in the
ardour of discourse, in the midst of a sentence, when no one expected it, and
while under full sail, he would suddenly be stopped for a moment, as if the
wheels of utterance were all broken, and a stranger would be at a loss to account
for it. But he always found instant relief, by bringing the fore-finger of his
right hand in contact with his upper lip. And when the troublesome word was
at lengtli uttered, it often came with an emphasis which added greatly to the
force of the sentence. Still, notwithstanding the defects of his delivery, there
was so much good sense, logic, and point, in his sermons, that his hearers could
hardly do otherwise than listen to him, and were often made to feel the pungency
and power of the truth he uttered. His discourses were of that kind ^vhich peo-
ple are apt to remember and carry home with them.
But his intellectual power was perhaps nowhere more clearly visible, than as
a Professor in the chair of Systematic Theology. He had a very distinct appre-
hension of the system which he taught, in all its parts and relations, and was
armed and ready at every point.
It seemed to be a kind of luxury to him to have a pupil exhibit some divergent
tendencies, and call in question the correctness of his positions. He saw at a
glance where an antagonist might be assailed, and how he might be bound hand
and foot. Rarely, if ever, did a young man pass through the course of study
prescribed by him, without receiving the full impress of his master's Theology.
In this particular, I think I have never known his superior as a Theological Pro-
fessor. He was also very highly esteemed and beloved by all his pupils. To
this day, though he has been in his grave these twenty years, I seldom meet with
one of them, who does not bear theologically the image and superscription of his
teacher, or who does not cherish the most affectionate veneration for his memory.
He was withal a man of genuine modesty, seeming always to have a low esti-
mate of his own powers and attainments, and neither seeking nor desiring public
notoriety.
His death was a beautiful example of the manner in Mhich the soul of a Chris-
tian gathers itself up in " its last dejjarting hour," and lies down to rest on tha
bosom of Him who is " the Resurrection and the Life."
It is possible that the above picture may have some of the colourings of per-
sonal friendship; nevertheless, such are the recollections and the honest convic-
tions of. Dear Sir, Your friend and brother,
S. L. POMKROY.
392 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ZEPHANIAH SWIFT MOORE, D. D *
1796 -1823.
Zephaniaii Swift Moore was the son of Judali and Mary Moore, and
was born at Palmer, Mass., November 20, 1770-. His parents were in the
middle walks of life, and were much esteemed for their integrity and piety.
When he was seven or eight years old, he removed with his father's family
to Wilmington, Vt., where he worked upon a farm till he was about
eighteen. From his early childhood he evinced great inquisitiveness of
mind, and an uncommon thirst for knowledge ; in consequence of which,
his parents who were in humble circumstances, consented to aid him in
acquiring a collegiate education. Having prosecuted his preparatory studies
at an Academy in Bennington, Vt., he entered Dartmouth College, when he
was in his nineteenth year. He graduated in 1793, and delivered on the
occasion a philosophical oration on the "causes and general phenomena of
earthquakes," which was received with marked approbation.
On leaving College, he took charge of an Academy at Londonderry, N.
H., where he gained the reputation of an able and faithful teacher. Hav-
ing occupied this post for a year, he repaired to Somers, Conn., and com-
menced the study of Theology under the direction of the Rev. Dr. Charles
Backus ; and, having gone through the usual course of preparation for the
ministry, was licensed to preach by a committee of the Association of Tol-
land county, February 3, 1796. After preaching to good acceptance in
various places, and receiving several invitations to a permanent settlement
in the ministry, he finally accepted a call from the church and congregation
in Leicester. iMass. Here his labours proved alike acceptable and useful.
Very considerable additions were made to the church, and the spirit and
power of religion became increasingly visible under his ministrations.
During a part of the time that he resided at Leicester, he joined to his
duties as a minister those of Principal of the Leicester Academy ; and here
also he acquitted himself with much honour.
In October, 1811, he accepted the chair of Professor of Languages in
Dartmouth College. Here he was greatly respected as a man, a teacher,
and a preacher ; and if his attainments in his department were not of the
very highest order, they were at least such as to secure both his respecta-
bility and usefulness.
In 1815, he was elected to the Presidency of Williams College, then
vacant by the resignation of Dr. Fitch. He accepted the appointment, and
was regularly inducted into office, at the Annual Commencement in Sep-
tember of that year. Shortly after his removal to Williarastown, Dart-
mouth College, which he had just left, conferred upon him the degree of
Doctor of Divinity. He adorned this new station, as he had done those
which he had previously occupied. His connection with the College was
attended by some circumstances of peculiar embarrassment, in consequence
of an effort on the part of the Trustees to remove the College to North-
ampton or some other town in Hampshire county. The measure failed in
consequence of the refusal of the Legislature to sanction it. Dr. Moore,
* Amer. Quart. Reg. V.
ZEPIIAXIAII ST7IFT MOORE, 393
however, decidedly favoured it from the beginning, but in a manner that
reflected not in the least upon his Christian integrity and honour.
In the spring of 1821, the Collegiate institution at Amherst having been
founded, he was invited to become its first President, and was inaugurated
as such in September following. The institution, then in its infancy, and
contendmg with a powerful public opinion, and even with the Legislature
itself, for its very existence, put in requisition all his energies ; and the
ultimate success of the enterprise was no doubt to be referred, in no small
degree, to his discreet, earnest, and untiring efforts. In addition to his
appropriate duties as President and as Chairman of the Board of Trustees,
he heard the recitations of the Senior class, and part of the recitations of
tho Sophomore class, besides taking occasional agencies with a view to
increase the funds of the institution. His constitution, naturally strong,
was over-taxed by the eiforts which he felt himself called to make, and had
begun perceptibly to yield, before the last violent attack of disease which
terminated his life.
On Wednesday the 25th of June, 1823, he was seized with a bilious
colic, which reached a fatal termination on the Monday following. During
the brief period of his illness, the greatest anxiety prevailed in the College,
and unceasing prayer was ofiered in his behalf. His own mind was per-
fectly tranquil, and he anticipated the closing scene and passed through it,
without a word or look that told of apprehension. In the very moment of
breathing out his spirit, he uttered in a whisper, — " God is my hope, my
shield, and my exceeding great reward." The funeral solemnities were
attended on the Wednesday following, and an appropriate sermon delivered
on the occasion by the Rev. Dr. Suell of North Brookfield.
Dr. Moore lived to celebrate the tirst anniversary of the institution, and
to see more than eighty of its students professedly religious, and preparing
for extensive usefulness among their fellow men.
Shortly after his settlement at Leicester, he was married to a daughter of
Thomas Drury of Ward, Mass., who survived him. They had no children.
Dr. Moore published an Oration at Worcester on the 5th of July, 1802;
Massachusetts Election Sermon, 1818; an Address to the public in respect
to Amherst College, 1823 ; a Sermon at the ordination of Dorus Clark,
Blandford, 1823.
FROM THE REV. EMERSON DAVIS, D. D.
AVestfield, Mass., November IG, 1849.
Dear Sir : You have requested me to give you my impressions and recollec-
tions of President Moore. They are all exceedingly pleasant; and yet 1 must
say he was a man of such equanimity of temper and uniformity of life, that I
am unable to single out one act or saying of his that produced a deeper impres-
sion than others.
My first introduction to him was in the spring of 1818, when I was ushered
into his study with a letter of recommendation for admission to Williams Col-
lege. It was to me a fearful moment; but the cordial manner in which I was
received, and his kind inquiries after his friend who had furnished me with a
letter, made me at once easy in his presence. I found that he had the heart of
a man; and through an acquaintance of several jf^ears to the time of his death,
he manifested the same kindness and cordiality that he did the first time 1 saw
him.
Vol. II. 50
391 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
He was a man of iiiL'tliuiii stature, rather corpulent, his complexion sallow,
the top of his head nearly bald, tiierc being a sliglit sprinkling of hair between
the forehead and crown. His voice, tiiough not loud, was clear and pleasant,
and in animated conversation and in the pulpit, pitched upon the tenor key.
He was dignified in hi.s appearance, serious in his aspect, instructive and
agreeable in his conversation, kind and benevolent in his feelings, modest and
unassuming in his manners, deliberate and cautious in coming to a conclusion,
but firm and determined when his position was taken. If a student had at any
time spoken against liim, he would have been regarded as a rebel against law
and order. In managing cases of discipline, he was calm and entirely self-pos-
sessed. When he felt constrained to reprove students, either in the recitation
room or chapel, he usually prefaced his remarks by addressing them as, " Young
gentlemen;" probably that the}- might the more readily perceive the impropriety
of their conduct.
In preacliing, he had very little action; and yet there was an impressiveness
in his manner that fixed the attention of his hearers. In the more animated
parts of his discourse, his utterance became more rapid, and the sound of his
voice shrill and tremulous, showing that he felt deeply the force of the sentiments
he uttered. In his religious views, I know not that he diflered from the great
mass of the orthodox clergy of New England, of his day.
Such are my recollections of President Moore.
Yours truly,
EMERSON DAVIS.
FROM EBENEZER EMMONS, M. D.
PEOFESSOJR IN WILLIAMS COLLEGE.
Albany, October 1, 1855.
My dear Sir: Instead of attempting any thing like an outline of Dr. Moore's
character, which you can easily obtain from other sources, I take the liberty to
comply with your request by stating an incident in his administration of the
College, of which I was a witness, and which strikingly illustrated some of his
most prominent characteristics.
The incident to which 1 refer, occurred in the autumn of 1816, just after Dr.
Moore entered upon his duties as President of Williams College. It was not only
a new field to him, but there were some circumstances that rendered his entrance
upon it peculiarly embarrassing. His predecessor, Dr. Fitch, though, in many
respects, an adniiralde man, did not always evhice the highest degree of firm-
ness; and hence it had been common for the students, when his decisions were
not in accordance with their wishes, to make an effort, and generally not an
unsuccessful one, to procure their rever.sal. Dr. Moore came to the College,
when tlie three higher classes had been the subjects of this kind of training. In
order to give governmental efficiency to the institution, he was instrumental in
effecting a revision of its laws, and in introducing certain new regulations, which
were designed to secure a more thorough and effective discipline. The new regu-
lations took eH'ect with the Sophomore class, of which I was a member. The
class numbered twenty-one, — among whom were several who have since attained
to high distinction in the different walks of public usefulness. They felt, as
Sophomore classes are very apt to feel, a sufficiently deep sense of their own
importance; and this was probably somewhat increased from the fact that the
College was really in a tottering condition, and one in which it did not seem safe
to enforce very stringent regulations
A copy of the new code of laws was given to each pupil on his entrance into
College, and soon afterwards he was summoned to the President's study, and
questioned in the following manner: — " Have you read the laws of the College ?"
" Do you approve of them ?" " IVill you obey them 1 " Of course an affirma-
ZEPHANIAH SWIFT MOORE. 395
tive response av.is returncJ. But to fix the matter more securely, he was then
requireel to afBx his name to his answer in a book prepared for the purpose.
Two thirds of tlie members of the cL'iss had passed through this ordeal, attesting
their allegiance to the College government; but, in the mean time, this new regu-
lation began to be talked about as an oppressive measure, especially in its appli-
cation to the Sophomore class. The feeling that it was derogatory to their
dignity began to run high, and, under the excitement, a class-meeting was called
to decide upon the measures to be adopted to remedy the supposed oppression
under which the class laboured, and especially to vindicate its honour before the
other classes. At this meeting, speeches were made which, in point of spirit,
were wortliy of the times of '76. It was resolved to vi.sit the President in a
body, making a committee of twenty-one, with S. E.. A , (now a highly
respectable clergymen,) for our Chairman and chief speaker. The President
received us politely, and almost immediately gave the Chairman an opportunity
to state the business of the committee. "Young gentlemen," said he, "what
are your wishes i* — you must surely have some business of great importance to
transact with me." "We have come, Sir," replied the Chairman, "for the
purpose of getting our names expunged from that book," stepping forward at the
same time a little in front of the row, and placing his feet squarely upon the
floor. " Oh, indeed," said the President, " I am sorry for that; but you are no
doubt willing to obey the laws of College." " Certainly, Sir," said he; " but
then our names are upon that book." " If that is all," answered the President,
"you may be sure that it will never hurt you." " But," replied the Chairman,
" we do not see why the Sophomore class should be singled out in this manner."
"That," said the President," "is of little consequence — you know we must
begin somewhere; and you are only required to obey the laws of College, which
you say you intend to do, and which all are required to do." " But," says the
Chairman, " our names are upon tiiat book;" — pointing to the very book on the
table before the President; — " and it looks badly that Ave should be singled out
in this way, when the Junior and Senior classes are allowed an exemption from
the rule." " I repeat," says the President, — " we must, as you well know,
begin somewhere, and all the succeeding classes will be required to conform to
the rule, so that your names will not stand alone upon that book." Suffice it to
say, it was evident that no progress could be made, and the Doctor's manner
carried more weight even than iiis words. It seemed to be tacitly admitted that
our case was a hopeless one; and Ijcsides, we had become quite cooled off in his
presence. But our spokesman made another rally, coming directly to the point —
" Must we understand then that our names shall remain upon that book ?" " Cer-
tainly," said the. iJoctor, — his benignant face becoming momentarily suff'used
with a deeper tint. We left his presence as quietly as possible, satisfied that no
impression could be made upon his firmness; and his polite reception and gentle
bearing had quite disarmed us of all personal hostilit}-.
Dr. Moore was consistent in his measures for the government of the College,
and this first occasion for the exercise of his firmness and moderation had its
influence throughout the classes, and I do not know that he was afterwards called
upon to exercise those admirable qualities in a similar manner.
Yours truly,
EBENEZER EMMONS.
FROM THE HON. EMERY WASHBURN,
GOVERNOR OF MASSACHUSETTS.
Worcester, Mass., January 1, 1866.
Dear Sir: You have imposed a pleasant duty upon me in requesting me to give
jou the impressions that are left upon my mind of the late Dr. Moore- My onlj
regret is that I must do it so imperfectly.
S9G TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
My acquaintance with liini conunoncod with my earliest childhood and continued
to the time of i>is death, — a period of some twenty years. A portion of tliat time
was spent in his family, and tlie kindness wliicii he always manifested towards
me, warrants me in saying that I knew him well.
At the commencement of this period, he was pastor of the church in Leicester,
and I am scarcely able to say of which 1 now retain the liveliest remembrance,
the kindly greeting and pleasant smile with which he recognised me as a child in
the street, his cheerful and entertaining conversation to which I listened in his
visits at my mother's house, the plain, simple and hopeful manner in which he
used to address us children in his visits to the schools, or his solemn and impres-
sive services upon the Sal)bath.
The effect produced upon my young mind by the latter, could not have been the
result merely of his grave, dignified nuuiner, the pleasant musical tones of his
voice, or the unaffected, earnest style of his delivery, though in all these respects
he had few sujierioi's. His sermons were always full of thought, simply and
neatly expressed, with that clearness of arrangement which commanded the atten-
tion and impressed the memory of even 3'oung and uncultivated minds.
The impressions of cliildhood were but strengthened upon a more familiar
acquaintance with him in after life, especially as an officer of College.
He was a man of the most systematic and untiring industry. Every dut}* had
its place and was sure of being performed at its appropriate time. His hours of
rest, study, and recreation, of rising and retiring, and of the several meals of the
day, were as well defined and uniformly observed as the recurrence of the seasons
or of day and night.
His conversation at his table and in his social intercourse was always cheerful,
often playfid, and frequently enlivened with anecdote. When engaged upon graver
topics, it displayed the habit of deep thought and reflection, which was the char-
acteristic of his mind. He loved, when conversing with the young, to make it an
occasion for suggestions of practical wisdom and pleasant illustrations of useful
knowledge.
As already suggested, the tones of his voice, though not loud, were clear and
pleasant. He was fond of music and an agreeable singer.
His manners were quiet and dignified, but always self-possessed. He was
never boisterous, even when most deeply e.xcited or when administering the
sharpest rebuke in the way of college discipline or personal censure. Yet with
all this forbearance of manner, no man ever possessed a firmer spirit or a more
uncompromising resolution of purpose in whatever concerned a matter of right.
He was calm and deliberate in forming his judgment; but when formed, he acted
up to it, in every thing involving principle, regardless of personal consequences.
His qualities as a College officer were of a very high order. That suavity which
attracted the love, was mingled with a consistent dignity which commanded the
respect, of his pupils; while a remarkably quick perception of the personal traits
of character in others, enabled him to adapt his deportment to whatever emergen-
cies might arise. Incidents might be referred to of his ready power in quelling the
excited passions that sometimes disturb college life, as well as in subduing refrac-
tory spirits on occasions where individual discii)line had become necessary.
I have already spoken of his commanding jierson. And yet he was not of a
majestic height, — scarce exceeding five feet ten inches, and, though M'eighing some
two hundred and forty pounds, his firm, closely-knit frame and muscle gave him
notliing of the air of grossness or obesity.
He was extremely neat in his dress, and retained the use of what was once so
generally worn by gentlemen, especially of the clerical profession — breeches and
long hose, which were particularly becoming to his person.
His favourite branch of instruction was metaphysics, and he was especially
familiar with the writers of the Scotch school upon that subject. But whateve"
ZEPIIA>IAH SWIFT MOORE. 3O7
subject he taught, he made himself accurately and critically acquainted with all
its details and leading text-books.
Dr. Moore was a delightful companion in his own family. lie was uniformly
cheerful, kind, and observant to all. Though he had no children of his own, he
made his house a pleasant resort for friends of any age. And 1 should be doing
injustice to her Avho shared and promoted the attractions of his home, if 1 should
omit to recognise the harmony and confidence which always subsi»ited between
the heads of that family.
lie had a pleasant countenance, a mild, penetrating eye, with rather heavy
eye-brows, a finely formed head without an}- particularly marked developments,
a mouth with that compact outline that denotes energy, and a smile tluit, wliile
it relaxed this into playfulness, lighted up liis eye into an expression of mirth,
thougli he never indidged in boisterous merriment.
Such is a brief, and 1 am sensible, very imperfect and unsatisfactory, outline
of the impressions I retain of the person, habits, and manners of Dr. iMoore, as
they remain after a lapse of more than thirty years.
In giving these, 1 have not allowed myself to follow my own feelings alone, lest
I should be supposed to have sacrificed to eulog}^, what you wish should be a
simple sketch of a few of those details which his biographer might not easily
obtain from tradition or his published works.
1 have alluded to his wife, who still survives in a dignified old age; and perhaps
I cannot better close this desultory sketch than by alluding to the connection
which Dr. Moore used pleasantly to trace in the su^cess'on o'' events by which
he rose to the Presidency of the College.
After completing his theological course with Dr. Backus of Somers, he came
to Sutton upon a visit to his sister, tlie wife of the Rev. Mr. Mills of that town.
He was tliere detained several daj-s beyond the intended period of his visit, by
the accidental lameness of his horse. While thus detained, Miss Drury, a friend
of the family, from the neighbouring town of Auburn, (then Ward,) visited at
his sister's, where an acquaintance was formed, which led to a subsequent visit
on his part at Ward.
The people at Leicester, being destitute of a pastor, and hearing of his visit
there, applied to him to supply their pulpit, which led to his settlement over
that parish, taking with him Miss Drury, then Mrs. Moore.
Here he formed an intimate and lasting friendship with Mr. Adams, afterwards
Professor in Dartmouth College, wlio, knowing the fitness of Dr. Moore for the
place, interested himself to procure his appointment to a Professorship in the
same College, llis success in that office attracted attention to his qualifications
for the head of a literary institution, and he was, m a few years, elected to
the Presidency of Williams College. And all this, as he used playfully to con-
tend, was to be traced to what he regarded at the time as any thing but a
fortunate accident.
Very respectfully your obedient servant,
EMEUY WASHBURN.
39S TKINITAUIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
SAMUEL WORCESTER, D. D *
17U0— 18iiL
Samuel Worcester, a son of Noah and Lvdia (Taylor) Worcester, waa
born at llollis, N. H., November 1, 1770. lie was a descendant, in the
sixth generation, from the Rev. William Worcester, who emigrated with
his family from Salisbury, England, in 1637 or 1638; became the first pas-
tor of the church in Salisbury, Mass, and died on the 28th of August, 1662.
He was a grandson of the Ilev. Francis Worcester, who was born at Brad-
ford, Mass., June 7, 1698; did not receive a Collegiate education; was
ordained as pastor of the Second church in Sandwich, Mass., in 1735; was
a zealous friend of the great revival ; was dismissed in 1745 ; and subse-
quently resided at Exeter, Phiistow and Hollis, N, H., — being occupied
chiefly as a home missionary ; and died October 14, 1783.
At the age of twenty months, the subject of this notice lost his mother,
who was distinguished for her piety and good sense. As he grew up, he
worked on his father's farm, attended school in the winter season, and at
the early age of seventeen, became the teacher of a school. About a year
previous to this, during a revival of religion, his mind became deeply
impressed with the importance of his spiritual and eternal interests, and
after some months of anxious inquiry, he began to cherish a trembling hope
that he had become reconciled to God. Several years, however, elapsed,
before he had gained sufficient confidence in the genuineness of his Christian
experience to feel justified in making a public profession of his faith.
He fitted for College at the Academy of New Ipswich, under the instruc-
tion of the Hon. John Hubbard, afterwards Professor in Dartmouth Col-
lege. He entered the Freshman class at Dartmouth in advance, in the
spring of 17U2, wlien he was about twenty-one years of age. Here he
was greatly distinguished as a scholar, notwithstanding his limited pecuniary
resources obliged him to devote part of the time to teaching. It was
during a winter's residence as a teacher in Salisbury, N. H., where his
brother (Thomas) was the settled minister, that his Christian afi"ection3
became so much quickened, and his hopes so much strengthened, that he
felt it to })e at once a privilege and a duty to confess Christ before men.
Accordingly, lie united with the church of which his brother was pastor, on
the 18th of February, 1793.
In his Junior year, he pronounced an Oration on the anniversary of
American independence, before the officers and students of the College, and
tlie inhaliitants of the town, whicli was published, and was considered highly
creditable to his talents as a writer. He graduated in 1795, with the
highest honours of his class.
After leaving College, he commenced the study of Theology under the
direction of the Rev. Dr. Samuel Austin, of Worcester, Mass. Before he
had been there many months, however, — finding himself somewhat .-^trait-
ened in respect to pecuniary means, he engaged in a school in Hollis,
N. H., for the winter, with an intention to return to Worcester in the
• ComeliuB' and Wood's Sermonaon his death. — Life and Labours of Dr. Worcester, by his
•on*
SAMUEL WORCESTER. 399
spring. But, instead of fulfilling his purpose, lie accepted the charge of
the New Ipswich Academy, in which he was an cniinciitly useful and popu-
lar teacher. In connection with his duties in his school, he continued his
theological studies, and was licensed to preach, late in the spring, or early
in the summer, of 1796. Towards the close of the year, his enfeebled
health and ulterior plans led him to resign his office as Preceptor of the
Academy; after which, he returned to his native place, where he continued
his theological studies, and preached on the Sabbath, as he found occasion,
at different places in the neighbourhood. The next winter he again taught
a school there, which, — to gratify the taste of his pupils and patrons, — he
closed with an old fashioned tragic and comic exhibition.
As soon as it became known that he was a candidate for settlement, sev-
eral eligible parishes sought to secure his services. He received a unani-
mous invitation to settle at Pelham, N. H., while a part of the church and
society at Fitchburg, Mass. made a vigorous effort to prevent his accep-
tance of that call and to induce him to accept one from themselves. The
prospect of a peaceful and happy ministry was far better at Pelham than at
Fitchburg ; but, after the most mature consideration, he was led to believe
that Divine Providence pointed him to the latter place ; and, accordingly,
on the 22d of July, 1797, he sent a communication to the Fitchburg con-
gregation, consenting to become their pastor. He was ordained on the 27th
of September following, Dr. Austin preaching the sermon.
In October succeeding his ordination, he was married to Zervia, daughter
of Dr. Jonathan Fox, of IloUis, who had been a pupil in several of his
schools.
Shortly after his settlement, an extensive revival of religion took place
in connection with his labours, which was felt, perhaps equally, in the
church and out of it. His doctrines, however, which were decidedly Cal-
vinistic, and enforced with great pungency, gave offence to a portion of his
congregation, and the opposition to his ministry increased, until it was
finally judged expedient that his pastoral relation should be dissolved. It
was dissolved by an ecclesiastical council on the 29th of August, 1802,
after a protracted and painful controversy. His farewell sermon, which was
characterized by great solemnity and impressiveness, was published by a
unanimous vote of the church.
On the 23d of November fuUowing, the Tabernacle church in Salem,
Mass. invited Mr. Worcester to become their pastor. After much and
anxious deliberation on the question of duty, he accepted their invitation,
and was installed on the 20th of April, 1803. Dr. Austin's services as
preacher were again put in requisition, on the occasion of his installation.
In June, 1804, he was chosen Professor of Theology in Dartmouth Col-
lege. He referred the matter to a council of ministers, who decided agaiust
his acceptance of the appointment.
When the American Doard of Commissioners for Foreign Missions was
formed in 1810, Mr. Worcester was appointed its Corresponding Secretary.
He was the first minister who became zealously enlisted in the enterprise,
and was identified with all its operations till the close of his life.
In 1811, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by the
College of New Jersey.
In 1815, Dr. Morse, then of Charlestown, published a pamphlet, entitled
" American Unitarianism," conaisting of extracts from Belsham's Life of
400 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Lindsey — a work which hal thou rtnoutly appoaruJ in Groat Britain. A
Review of this jKiinplilct, wliich was publi.shol shortly after in tiie Pano-
plist, led the llev. (afterwards Dr.) William E. Chanuing to address a Lettai
to his friend, the llcv. Samuel Cooper Thaeher, deprecating the iutiuenco
of the Review, and vindicating the Boston ministor.s from what he regarded
the unjust allegations contained in it. Dr. Worcester rejdied to Mr. Chan-
niug's Letter, and tlie controversy did not end till he had proiluced three
pamphlets, which, I l»elieve, are generally considered by Ti'iuitariaus
as forming one of the ablest defences of their views that have been written.
At the meeting of the Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions
in 1817, Dr. Worcester distinctly stated to them that his double duties as
pastor ami Secretary were too arduous for him to discharge any longer
without assistance ; and tliat, unless some uew arrangement could be made,
he should find it necessary to resign the office of Secretary. No decisive
action, however, was taken on the subject, till near the close of the ensuing
year, when the Prudential Committee made application to his church for
the relinquishment of three-fourths of his time to be devoted to the mis-
sionary cause. The result was that the church and society, after a severe
struggle, and with many regrets, consented to the proposal, and in July,
1819, settled the llev. Elias Cornelius as colleague pastor with Dr.
Worcester.
Nearly three years before this arrangement was made. Dr. Worcester's
constitution had begun to exhibit manifest signs of decay. His powers of
digestion were greatly impaired, and his muscular and nervous .systems
unstrung. In the hope of finding some relief from his complaints, he took
an extended journey in the months of October and November, 1820; but
received little or no benefit from it. He determined now, in pursuance of
medical advice, to spend the approaching winter in a Southern climate.
On the last Sabbath in December, he delivered to his congregation his
]»arting, and as it proved, his last, discourse, from the words — " I am a
stranger with thee and a sojourner, as all m}- fathers were."
On the 5th of January, 1821, he sailed from Boston to New Orleans,
intending, on his return, to pass through the interior of the country, and
visit the missonary stations at Eliot and Braincrd. After a most boisterous
and perilous voyage, he reached New Orleans, greatly debilitated, on the
od of February. Though he was too weak to speak in public, he made an
appeal through the press, in behalf of minions, to the people of New Orleans,
and of the State of Louisiana generally, which was considered a master-
piece of impressive and powerful writing.
On the 10th of March, he left New Orleans, and directed his course
towards the missionary stations in the wilderness. After much fatigue and
suffering, he arrived in the central part of the Choctaw tribe, at a place
sixty miles distant from Eliot, on the 10th of April. While he was waiting
here for the arrival of several missionaries, who were expected to accom-
pany him to Eliot, he was seized witli another turn of severe illness, which
confined him for two weeks, and obliged him to relimiuish the hope of ever
seeing the place he had set out to visit. He now addressed a most affectionate
and paternal letter to the missionaries at Eliot, which, like every thing he
wrote iluring his last illness, evinced great maturity of Christian experience
and the most unqualified subinission to the Divine will. But, though disap-
pointed in not seeing Kliot, he had the satisfaction of meeting most of the
SAMUEL WORCESTER. 4Q1
missionaries at Maylicw. While at this place, he had strength enough to
give to the luissiuiiaries the instructions and counsels they needed, to assist
in organizing a church, and to deliver one or two appropriate discourses.
But these were his last services in aid of the missionary cause.
From Mayhew he travelled to Brainerd, — the journey occupying him
eighteen days. On arriving at this place, he was so much reduced in
strength as to be unable, without assistance, to get into the house where
he was to stop. But he was entirely reconciled to the prospect that opened
before him, and remarked — " I had rather leave my poor remains at 13rainerd
than any other place." In the bosom of a missionary family, and sur-
rounded by the children of the forest, to whose immortal interests he had
been pre-eminently devoted, he waited the few remaining days of his
appointed time. On the morning of Thursday, the 7th of June, he passed
gently and joyfully away to his final rest. His funeral was attended two
days after, not only by the mission family and school, but by a large num-
ber of the natives, some of whom had come from a great distarice to testify
their grateful respect for his memory. A monument, with a suitable inscrip-
tion, prepared by Jeremiah Evarts Esq., his successor in office as Secretary
of the American Board, marked the spot where his remains were interred.
In 1844, they were removed from the burial-ground at Brainerd, and they
now rest in the cemetery of Harmony Grove, Salem, amidst the remains of
these whose characters he had assisted to form for immortality.
Di. Worcester was the father of eleven children ; one of whom, Samuel
Melaucthon, was graduated at Harvard College in 1822 ; was, for several
years, Professor of Khctoric and Oratory in Amherst College ; and is now
(1855) pastor of the Tal)crnacle church, Salem ; and another, Jonathan
Fox, was graduated at Dartmouth College in 1827, studied medicine, and
afterwards became a teacher of youth.
The following is a list of Dr. Worcester's publications: — An Oration deli-
Tered in the chapel of Dartmouth College, on the anniversary of Amer-
ican Independence, 1705. An Oration at New Ipswich, N. II., July 4th,
179G. An Oration on Washington, delivered at Fitchburg, 1800. Six
Sermons on the doctrine of Eternal Judgment, 1800. Facts and Documents
exhibiting a summary view of the ecclesiastical affairs lately transacted in
Fitchburgh, 1802. Valedictory Sermon at Fitchburgh, 1802. A Sermon
at the dedication of the new meeting house in Beverly, 1803. A Sermon
entitled "Righteousness conducive to happiness," delivered at Heading,
18U4. Two Discourses on the perpetuity and provision of God's gracious
Covenant with Abraham and his seed, 1805. A Sermon at the ordination
of David Jewett,* Gloucester, 1805. Serious and candid Letters on Bap-
tism to the Bev. Thomas Baldwin, 1807. A Sermon at the installation of
Josiah AVebster,t 1808. A Sermon entitled "The Messiah of the Scrip-
tures," 1808. A Sermon before the Massachusetts Missionary Society,
I soil. A Sermon on the death of Mrs. Eleanor Emerson, 1809. A Ser-
mon before the Salem Fenuile Charitable Society, 1800. An Address ou
Sacred Music, 1810. A Sermon at the ordination of E. L. I'arker, Lon-
• David Jewett was born at Hollis, N. H., July, 16, 1773; was graduated at Dartmouth
College in 1801; was ordained pastor of the Fifth church in Gloucester, Mass., October 30,
1805; and died in 1841.
t Josiah Webstek was bom at Chester, N. H., in 1772 ; was graduated at Dartmouth ( ollego
in 1798; was settled as pastor of the church in Hampton, N. 11., June 8, 1808; and died in
1837.
Vol. TI. 51
402 TKINITAKIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
donderry, N. II., 1810. A Sermon at the installation of the llcv. Dr. Griffin,
Ibll. A 8ornion entitled "God a llcwardcr," 1811. State Fast Sermon,
1812. National Fast Sermon, 1812. A Sermon before the Foreign Mission-
ary Society of Salem and its vicinity, 1818. A Sermon at the funeral of the
Ilev. llufus Anderson, 1814. Christian Psalmody, 1814. A Sermoti at the
ordination of William Cogswell, 1815. A Letter to the Kov. William K.
Channing on the suKjert of hi.s Letter to the Rev. S. C. Thacher relating
to the lleview in the i'anoplist, of American Unitarianism, 1815. A Second
Letter to tlie Kev. William E. Channing, 1815. A Third Letter to the
Ilev. William K. Channing, 1815. Paul on Mars Hill: A Sermon at the
ordination of several foreign missionaries, 1815. A Sermon on the first
anniversary of the American Society for educating pious youth for the Gos-
pel ministry, 181(3. A Discourse before the Massachusetts Society for the
suppression of intemperance, 1817. A Sermon before the Bible Society of
Salem and its vicinity, 1818. Watts Entire and Select Hymns, 1818. Ser-
mons, (posthumous,) octavo, pp. 500, 1823. Reviews, Essays, Reports, in the
Massachusetts Missionary Magazine, Panoplist, Panoplist and Missionary
Magazine, &c. First Ten Reports of the A. B. C. F. M., 1810-1820;
republished, 1834.
FROM THE REV. BROWN EMERSON, D. D.
Salem, March 12, 1861.
Dear Sir: It was my privilege to be acquainted with Dr. Worcester several
years before his settlement in this place. Soon after his graduation at College,
and, I believe, before he began to preach, he was my teacher in the Academy at
New Ipswich, N. 11.; and I remember witli much pleasure the thoroughness of
his instruction, and the iirmness and yet mildness of his discipline. I tlien
regarded him with the reverence due from a pupil to a Preceptor of high
reputation as a scholar and a Christian.
From the time of my settlement with the people of my present charge, in
April, 1805, our acquaintance became more familiar and intimate, and continued
increasingly so, until the year 1821, when, in the service of the American
Board for Foreign Missions, he left his family and Hock never to return.
Dr. Worcester was most intensely devoted to the interests of his flock.
His desire to win souls to Christ prompted him to labour in season and out of
season. From tlie time of my settlement in tliis place totlie time of the settle-
ment of '^\r. Cornelius at the Tabernacle, Dr. W^orcester and myself maintained
a stated Sabbath evening lecture, at our respective churclies, in regular alterna-
tion. This gave me opportunity to hear him preach very often. His sermons
showed the cliaracter of his mind. Though his manner in the puljiit was not
distingui.shed for vivacity, yet the solemnity of liis tones and tlie pungency
with which he e.xliibited Divine truth, so riveted the attention of his hear-
ers to his subject, that they soon lo.-t sight of the manner and often went
away thoughtful and silent. His sermons were always constructed with care,
on a plan of strict logical precision, with divisions and sub-divisions, neither
too few nor too many, and were adapted to make a distinct and deep impres-
sion. T think I never heard a preacher whose discourses I could so easily
recall, and so long retain.
Dr. Worcester had great power as a controversial writer. When "he entered
the field, he always had his armour on, and met his antagonist with uncommon
force and skill. He was so calm, self-possessed, and courteous, and yet so logi-
cal, clear, and piercing, that, as one remarked of him.. " he could cut off a man's
head with a feather."
SAMUEL WOIJCESTEK. 4Q3
To whatever subject he applied hi.s mind, he Mas sure to evince great vigour
and compass of thought. The motions of liis mind were not like a noisy brook,
but deep and calm, like a navigable river. He sometimes paused for a conside-
rable time upon a difficult case; but when his judgment was once formed, you
would rarely have occasion to appeal from.it. He was often resorted to as a
counsellor; and in this department of ministerial duty, few have been equally
useful. The same qualities which made him so eminent in this relation, made
him a most valuable member of the Salem Ministerial Conference, and of the
Association of Salem and vicinity, in the discussion of theological subjects, and
in free remarks upon the performances of the brethren.
The manners of Dr. Worcester, to those not much acquainted with him, might
have seemed rather precise. There was, in his mien, an air of dignity and state-
lincss which was increased by his tall, commanding figure, and which kejit many
from that free and familiar approach on which tiie interchange of thougiit and
feeling, and the life and pleasure of society so much depend. But those who
were favoured with a more intimate acquaintance with him, found associated
with that dignity and stateliness a suavity and freedom which made him a most
interesting companion. He had withal a readiness and pungency of wit, and a
fund of anecdote, which he knew how to employ on fitting occasions and to the
best advantage.
Dr. Worcester was pre-eminently a laborious man. lie knew how to direct
his studies and efforts so as to give them the greatest efficiency. His ruling pas-
sion was to do good; and he literally wore out his life in the most self-denying
efforts to promote the cause and honour of his Master.
I esteem it a high privilege to have been, during sixteen years of the earlier
part of my ministry, brought into contact with this great and good man so often,
and on such a variety of occasions, — having free access to him for counsel and
witnessing almost daily the fruit of his wisdom and toil. The unbroken friend-
ship vviiich subsisted between ns during the wliole period, made me feel his dcatli
as a severe personal bereavement, and has rendered liis memory one of the most
cherished treasures of my heart. But the benevolent mind finds a recompense
for the loss of great and good men in the assurance that they are not taken from
the Kingdom they love, but are only raised from a lower to a higher sjjhere of
usefulness, where there is not a cloud to obscure tiieir vision, or an untoward
circumstance to mar their enjoyment.
Yours in the (lospel,
B. EMERSON.
FROM THE REV. SAMUEL M. WORCESTER, D. D.
Salkm, June 16, 18.5G.
My dear Sir: Having prepared two volumes, in illustration of my father's
"Life and Labours," 1 did not expect ever again to write as many lines for th<'
same purpose. For his sake and mine, I could wish that your plan would [)er-
tnit you to copy from the Missionary Herald of August, 1821, the " Brief
Memoir "by his friend, Jeremiah Evarts, Esq. In so few pages, it would not
be easy to exhibit a more admirable delineation of a man, whose public and pri-
vate life, for twentj'-four jears, furnished materials for as manj' volumes.
Dr. Woods' Sermon in the Tabernacle, at Salem, on the 12th of the previous
month, was one of his greatest and happiest efforts. l>ikc tlie "Memoir" by
Mr. Evarts, it condensed the author's "personal recollections" in a scries of
biograjihical views, so true to the life, tlsat for the place and the end it would In-
unreasonable to ask for more. The tribute also to my fiither's memory, by his
much beloved associate. Rev. Elias Cornelius, afTbrded very great satisfaction.
Of these, not to refer to other sources of reliable information, I should be rejoiced
404
TRINITAUIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
if vou mij::ht so avail yourself, that not one word would have been requested
of nie.
Yft I must confess that, when 1 hoard tliose discourses, and when also I read
with many tears of delij^ht the " IJrief Memoir " by tlio acconiplished Evarts,
to wlioni " tlie character of his departed friend was a treasure," like the very
" price of wisdom," 1 had regrets that so much was wanting to the completeness
and liuish of tlie portraiture. Tliis would of course be very natural, in the
ardour of my feelings as a .son, who iiad sjx'nt nearly two years in the fatlier's
"study, his loved retreat." Not only did 1 feel that '• the half had not been
told," but I was certain that, in the relations particularly of son and brother,
husband and father, pastor and friend, the beginning only of " the half" could
have been known. Such was the conviction of other relatives and friends, who
thus the more earnestly waited for the expended "Memoir," which Mr. Evarts
consented to undertake; but which, by his increasing toils and shattered health,
he was obliged to relinquish.
In the volumes to which I have seen fit to allude, there are many pages of my
personal recollections, Init witliout any intimation of the fact. And having there
written so many hundred i)ages in all, without once using the pronoun I, as per-
sonal to myself, the u.se of it so often at the present time, it may be more readily
believed, is a necessity which M'ould gladly be avoided.
You know who it was, that described man, as "a being of large discourse,
looking before and after." l*recisely such " a being " was my father, as in my
early life I thought of him, when he stood before me, six feet in stature, and with
all the goodly proportions of "a bodily presence," which, (iiis often infirmities
notwithstanding,) was never " weak," any more than " his speech " was " con-
temptible." In all which, at a glance, inspires respect, or which, upon more
close observation, is suited to conciliate esteem, he was eminently favoured.
There was not a little of the martial element in his nature, while in frame hw
was fiishioned for a noble bearing, as a military man of the school of AVash
ington.
United with no common degree of amiableness and kindliness, there was the
fullest measure of rational courage, an unhesitating decision of purpose, and a
milil but impres.sive dignity, as if he had been born to a commanding influence.
Other things being equal, you can well imagine what power he would have in the
government of his family and the ordering of his household. As a "bishop,"
according to Paul's insj)ire<l idea, he was as truly "blameless as the steward of
i;od,"asany whom I have ever seen, — "one that ruled well his own house,
liaving his children in sul>jection with all gravity; not self-willed, not soon angry,
not given to wine, not given to filthy lucre; but a lover of hospitality, a lover of
good men, sober. Just, holy, temperate; holding fast the faithful word as he
had been taught, that ho might be able both to exhort ami to convince the gain-
say ers."
His brethren, who were much before him in years, always treated him as if he
had every prerogative of .seniority. Dr. Si)ring of Newburyport, for instance,
who in age was as a father to him, being twenty-four years the oldest, and not at
.ill unconscious of his own claims to reverence, was yet as a brother; and would
confer with him, as if at least of equal " understanding" by reason of " length
of days," and as if also the wisdom of the wisest of the aged were in him.
Think of a highly gifteil, independent, self-relying, powerful, and universally
respected man of sixty, thus regarding a brother of thirty-six; and thus con-
tinuing to regard him, until his own lamented decease at the age of seventy-
two! Not incredible, then, tlie witness of a brother in the ministry, a few years
younger than my father; — " 1 had feelings towards him, such as I never had
for any human being. I could not possibly describe them.'" He referred to
feelings of love, confidence, reverence, and admiration.
SAMUEL WORCESTER. 4Q5
Careful of his attitudes, movements, manners, in the minutest points, in pri-
vate no less than in public, my father's carefulness appeared as if a second nature.
There was not the least of allectation. He would unbend at the proper times;
but no one ever saw hhn lower himself the merest breadth of a hair below the
line of an clastic and graceful dignity. In such season.«i, he would ratiier raise
himself in the esteem of those, who knew him both in and out of " the harness,''
Avliich indeed tlie " pressure of a thousand labours and avocations " — to use his
own words, — would but seldom allow him to " put oil'."
This was the more remarkable, because he had an exquisite sense of the ludi-
crous, a choice vien of humour, and untold riches of anecdote, with no lack of
mimicry; and could laugh upon occasion the heartiest, though not the loudest or
the longest. Quick as the quickest for a repartee or a retort, and not moderately
jealous for the rights of his self-respect; able with a feather to take off a man's
skin or his head, as he pleased, — he was j'ct a pattern of magnanimous modesty
and meekness, gentleness and tenderness.
" All the U'orcesters that I have known," said his brother Noah, — " possessed
passions which were easily excited. It was so with your fjithcr; but less so than
with many others; or the diilerence was occasioned by his acquiring early better
self-government."
AVhen his keen sensibilities were wounded, a flush might change his usually
placid and benignant countenance, with the instantaneousness of lightning. I
have seen him, when as much tried by aggravated provocation, as I think that
he was at any time, during the last fifteen of the fifty years of his life. But I
never saw him, and I never heard of him, when, for one moment, he lost his self-
control. The world in arms, I veril}'^ believe, could not have made him tremble,
while vindicating wliat he believed to be the rights of God and " the truth as it
is in Jesus." Nor do I believe that, in any difficulties or perplexities of oppo-
sition and evil report, he ever asked himself the question. How will these things
affect mc 1
Not deficient in imagination, or any other facultj', and able to excel in almost
any department, either of literature or science, — his mind was so well balanced,
that ills inextinguishable zeal was always regulated b}' the soundest principles of
practical wisdom. The results of his counsels are the "seal," that this "is
true." And there was no characteristic for which he was more distinguished, and
in wliich liis great strength was more to be seen, than the power of tiiinking
justly on sudden or complicated emergencies; and of resolving questions of
gravest importance, but altogether new, and therefore to be settled without the
aid of any known rule or recognised precedent.
When the American Hoard was formed, his labours as the Corresponding Sec-
retary, with the whole system now in oi)eration for the conduct of missions
abroad, required the same processes of original evolution and determination of
principles and rides, as so signally characterized tlie formation of our Federal
Government. Here was displayed his peculiar, if I may not say, his transcend-
ant i)ower among his eminent associates. Tiie great value of " the Constitution
of the TJoard, as a working instrument," " the nicely adjusted relations of the
voluntary and ecclesiastical principles," the "origination of what is peculiarly
CAcelleiit in the Annual Reports, and also in tlie Instructions to Missionaries,"
and the "■ jJmcrican idea" of " organizing the missions as self-governing com-
munities," are justly ascribed to him, by the present senior Secretary, as conclu-
sive witness of his extraordinary " sagacity. " and of his being far " in advance
of the age."
Dr. "Woods and Mr. Cornelius each represented the movements of his mind as
rather slow than rapid. " ^ly uncle's mind was not slow in its movement; but
when he had an important question to consider, he suspended his judgment until
he could survey the subject on all sides and in all its bearings," — was, for sub-
405 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL
stance, the discriininating reply of one, who liail seen more of him, than cither
of those, whose mistake he tlius enipliatieally corrected. I was myself much
iistonished at the mistake, having so many times seen iiim, when he appeared to
reach an imjjortant conclusion, in about the space of the twinkling of an eye;
and liavin<jalso witnessed, in hundreds of cases, the celerity of his pen, in what
were pronounced his most elaborate and finished compositions.
IIu was not fluent, ilis voice, though clear and musical, was wanting in vol-
ume, lie was neither an orator, nor a "tremendous converser." But in an
exciting debate, or when " the Philistines were upon" him, he moved with a
power, which few could manfully withstand. Some who had thought him
reserved or taciturn, found him upon acquaintance one of the most companion-
able of men. A casual interview, or a desired conversation for a short hour, was
remembered, as if worth more than a month's study of history, ethics, or the-
He very seriously impaireil liis health, m the first year of his academic studies.
His constitution never fully recovered from the shock which it then received, by
the crowding of more than two years of hard study into one. Not a year passed,
after my rememl>rance of him began, when he was not more or less .severel)'
alHicted by sickness or infirmity. And it was always, with rare exceptions,
work, work, work, let his health be as it might. But at all times, he was the
same happy man, in the predominant spirit and aspects of his domestic life.
In bereavements and other afflictions, he exhibited the entire sufficiency of the
consolations, which he so often had occasion to commend to others. The ever-
glowing charities of his heart, which could not be satisfied with the simple giving
of the tenth of all, according to covenant at Bethel, — which, however, he extolled
as " worthy of all acceptation," were an unfailing fountain of joy and sweetly
soothing tranquillity. And in his communion with (^od, whose holy will in
providence he daily studied, just as he "searched the Scriptures," — and his evi-
dent intimacy of pleading with the Lord Jesus Christ, for the fulfillment of
whose farewell charge he so unfalteringly laboured, to the utmost of the grace
given him, — there was beyond (juestion a blessedness, too sacredly his own, for
any but rare and verj- tremulous disclosures to the very nearest and dearest of
his earthly friends.
No one ever saw him j)rnnionading with melancholy look, or sitting with his
head moodily downwards, or doling out the languid utterances of discourage-
ment and despondenc}'. His trust in God was firm as the granite mountains of
his native State. His convictions of " the faith once delivered unto the saints,"
were as "clear as crystal." Christ was to him "Alpha and Omega, the
tlrst and the last." AVith (Jod's ancient and modern providence, as recorded in
history, .sacred or secular, ecclesiastical or civil, he seemed almost as familiar as
with " hou.sehold words." And as leaf after leaf of each forthcoming volume
was opened to his view, he was sure as of his being, that (Jod's hand, in unerring
and unfailing wisdom and goodness, as well as Almighty jwwcr, is in ail events,
working out the glorious pur|»oses of his perfect will. Hence as to hinii^elf, his
tenderly loved family, the enrlonred jieoplo of his charge, " the church of God "
generally, the state of the country, of the Christian or the heathen world, — he
was " steadfast, unmoveablc, always abountling in the work of the Lord."
I cannot now speak as I woidd of his family devotions; his love for the " Fam-
ily Bible," with the notes and ob.servations of Scott; his remembrance of the
Sabbath and reverence for the Sanctuary. Before the sun went down on Satur-
day, his Sabbath had fully come, and the whole order of the house was rest and
peace. On sacramental days, he wore his " bands," and his countenance would
beam with the " light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus
Christ." Then "redeeming love" was of all others the delightful, melting
theme; and then indeed did he " magnify " the consecrated "office." Not .scl-
SAMUEL WORCESTER. 4O7
doni ho i)ra3cd, as if wrestling like Jacob at Peniel, and preached, as if it were
the last Sabbath of the conj^regation, before '' the judgment of the great day."
I would gladly portray him, as he was in tlie chamber of .sickne.s.s and in tlie
retired places of sorroM'. 1 would, if space remained, present him as 1 can now
.see him, in the midst of "the lambs," which it was his deligiit to "carry in his
bosom." I would present him also, as with the warmest parental love, singu-
larly blended with deferential confidence, he used to regard the early missiona-
ries of the Board of Missions. Never was man more sincere than was he in say-
ing,— " I hold the office of a missionary to the heathen, as the highest in the
Knigdom of the Loid Jesus Christ on earth." Tho.se young men had experien-
ces which their present successors can but poorly understand; and which
imparted a peculiar tenderness of endearment to their relation to their chief and
immediate counsellor and director. With scarce a solitary exception, they
seemed to revere and love him, as if he had adopted them all, and had been to
lliem, from their earliest con.sciousness, the kindest, wisest, and best of fathers.
As the world is overwhelmed with selfishness and enmity to the self-sacrificing
spirit of true religion, it is not strange that there were some who spoke of him
as ambitious; and thus only could explain the mystery of such intense and
unwearied elibrts to send the (Jospel to theunevangelized. Dr. AVoods had them
in mind, doubtless, when arguing, with gigantic energy, " the importance of the
Missionar}' cause, from its grand design;" and preparing him.self to render but
sin)ple justice to the " beloved Secretary," who, as he declared, " was as mani-
ifestly in his proper place in the Kingdom of Christ, as the hand or the head is
in its proper jjlace in the natural body. * * And you might as well think of
doing justice to the character of Moses, without describing his agency in dehver-
ing the children of Israel from Egypt and leading them through the wilderness,
nr of Paul, without exhibiting him as the Apostle of the Gentiles, as to the cha-
racter of Ur. Worcester, without describing him in this highest and most ardu-
ous siiherc of his labours."
r submit these fragmentary "recollections," only adding that justice to the
living or the recently departed, can never require the oblivion or the neglect of the
dead, who, in former generations, were worthy of all praise; and, having finished
tiieir course, were translated to the rewards of the faithful in our blessed Lord
and Redeemer.
With very high respect.
Yours, most cordially,
SAMUEL M. WORCESTER.
408 TKIMTARIAN CONGIIEGATIONAL.
TIIEOPIIILUS PACKARD, D. D *
1797—1855.
Theophilus Packard was the son of Abol and Esther (Porter) Pack-
ard, and was born in North Bridgcwator, Mass., March 4, 17(39. When
he was five years old, he removed with his father's family to Cunimington.
in the Western part of Massachusetts, whore he lived until he tutertd
Dartmouth College.
His early years were spent in working upon his father's farm. At the
age of twenty-one, he began to fit up a farm for himself; but, by overtasking
his bodily powers, he disabled himself, in a great degree, for that kind of
labour. Shortly after this, his mind became deeply exercised on the sub-
ject of rcliiiion, and at length so far settled that he became a member of
the church. He began now to meditate the purpose of devoting himself to
the Christian ministry ; and, with a view to this, commcnciul his prepara-
tion for College under the instruction of his pastor, the llev. James Briggs.t
He entered Dartmouth College in 1792 and graduated in 179G. Immedi-
ately after his graduation, he commenced the study of Theology under tho
Rev. Dr. Burton of Thetford, Vt. ; and, at the end of six months, v.. is
licensed to preach by the Orange Association, to which his theoiogical
teacher belonged. His first labours as a minister were among the churches
in the region in which he was licensed; but he went to Shelburne, Mas^.,
to preach as a candidate, early in the autumn of 1798. Here he was
ordained on the '20th of February, 1799, the sermon being preached by the
Rev. John Emerson of Conway.
The Honorary degree of D. D. was conferred upon him by Dartmoutli
College in 1824.
Dr. Packard continued in sole charge of the church at Shelburne until
March 12, 1828, when his son, Theophilus was ordained as his colleague.
The charge was given to the young pastor by the Rev. Jonathan Grout t of
Hawley, who had performed the same service in connection with his father's
ordination twenty-nine years before.
From this time, the father and son continued to supply the pulpit alter-
nately tdl February 20, 1S42, when Dr. Packard gave notice to his people
that he should relinquish all pastoral service ; and, from that time, he iiever
received from them any compensation. He was, however, not dismissed,
but retained the pastoral relation till his death. During the fourteen years
in which the two were associated in supplying the Shelliurnc pulpit, they
both laboured extensively in destitute parishes in the ncigh])ourhood, and
were instrumental, in several instances, in preparing the way for a stated
ministry.
Dr. Packard li;ivini: reached the age of sevcnty-tlrce, and finding tliat
the infirmities of age were rapidly increasing upun him, went in the spring
of 1S4G to live with a widowed daughter in South Dcerfield. Here he
• Hist, of the Franklin Association. — !MS. from liis son.
t James Briggs was graduated at Yale College in 1775; was ordained pastor of the church
in Cunimington, July 7, 1770, and died December 7. 1825, aged eighty.
t JoN'ATn.VN Gr.oiT was born at \Vestljr)rough, IMass., Ajiril II, 176.3; was graduated at
Harvard College in 17',)0; was ordained at ilawley, ^Mass., October 23, 1793; and died June 6,
1835, aged seventy-two. He publislied a .Sermon before the Hampshire Missionary Society,
ISIO; a Sermon preached at Cumuiington. 1811.
THEOPHILUS PACKARD. 409 '
remained four years, but returned to Shelburne in the summer of 1854.
His last sermon was preached in Deerfield in November, 1847.
He suflFercd a severe injury from a ftill upon the ice in the early part of
January, 1855 ; and, from that time, was confined to his house, and mostly
to his bed. He was afflicted by a complication of maladies, from which,
during the last few weeks of his life particularly, he experienced intense
suffering. He died on the 17th of September, 1855. The Franklin County
Church Confftrence and Benevolent Anniversaries having been appointed to
be held in Shelburne on the 18th and 19th, his funeral took the place of
the Conference exercises on the afternoon of the 19th, a very large number
of ministers being in attendance. His funeral sermon was preached by the
Kev. Dr. Hitchcock, late President of Amherst College.
He was married to Mary, daughter of Isaac Tirrill, of Abington, Mass.,
February 9, 1800. He had eight children, one of whom, Theophilus, was
graduated at Amherst College in 1823, and, as has been already mentioned,
was associated with his father in the ministry. Mrs. Packard still (1856)
survives.
Dr. Packard, in the course of his ministry, instructed thirty-one students
in Theology, all of whom became preachers of the Gospel.
The following is a list of Dr. Packard's publications : — A Sermon at the
ordination of Josiah W. Cannon; [who was born at New Braintree, Mass.,
February 27, 1780 ; was graduated at Williams College in 1803 ; studied
Theology under the Rev. A. Hooker of Goshen ; was ordained pastor of
the church at Gill, Mass., June 11, 1806; was dismissed June 11, 1827;
taught an Academy at Williamstown, Mass. from 1827 to 1831 ; taught a year
in Canajoharie, N. Y. ; returned to Gill in 1832, and preached there as a
stated supply till September 24, 1839, when he was settled the second time
as pastor of the church ; was taken off from his labours by a paralytic
stroke in Septemlicr, 1846, and died in 1854. He published a Sermon
before the Hampshire Missionary Society in 1821, and a Sermon on the
death of Elisha M. Case at Williamstown in 1831. A few days before his
death, his surname was changed by the Legislature to Ca?i?ii7ig ;] two Ser-
mons on the Divinity of Christ, 1808 ; a Sermon before the Hampshire
Missionary Society, 1813 ; a Sermon on the evil of Slander, 1815 ; the Life
and death of his son Isaac T. Packard, 1820.
FROM THE REY. THOMAS SNELL, D. D.
North Brookfield, Mass., May 16, 1856.
Dear Sir: It gives me pleasui-e to bear mj' testimony concerning the character
of ni}' fiioiid Dr. Packard, who has been a little before me in closing his earthly
career; but I am too much eiifcehlcd l)y age and disease to go into any extouded
account of him. 1 was intimatclv acquainted with him from my boyhood, as
wc spent our early years witliiu half a mile of each other. I was also contem-
porary with him in College, though one year his senior; and have had a good
opi)ortunity of observing liis whole subsequent course.
His rank in College as a scholar was deservedly high, and he graduated with
one of the first honours of his class. His general deportment also was exem-
plary— such as to render him at once greatly respected and highly useful.
He was not distinguished for gracefulness of manners, but he was verj- social
and communicative, and evinced groat sineerit}' and cordiality in his friendships.
He M as more intellectual and metaphysical than most of his brethren, and nevei
faltcicd in defence of his doctrinal views, which were strictly Calvinistic. He
Vol. U 52
410 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
had !i piisiion for scrutinizing, and originating that lud hiiu to traverse fields
whiili wouUl have few attractions for the great mass of minds. With the doctrines,
precepts, and institutions of Christianity lie never meddled — these he was con-
tented to receive in all simplitit}' and docility, just as he believed that God had
revealed thorn ; but on any other ground he felt himself at liberty to speculate,
aud inquire, and invent, almost witliout restraint. 1 well remember .some of his
early developements pointing in this direction; and the same thing was manifest
in the deep interest which he took in mesmerism and some other kindred novelties
towards the close of life. He had no views of these sul»jects, however, that inter-
fered in the least with his belief in the great truths of Clnistianity, or suggested
any doubt in regard to his living under the intluence of the failii he professed.
Un the whole, I regard him as having possessed a large share of natural sagacity
and foresight, and a much more than ordinary degree of intellectual power, asso-
ciated with a truly devout spirit; while yet, as I have indicated, he shared in
the common infirmities of humanity.
AVith sincere respect, your brother in Christ,
TUOMAS SNELL.
FROM THE REV. THOMAS SlIEPARD, D. D.
Bristol, R. I., February 19, 1856.
Dear Sir: With the subject of your enquiries, I was privileged to be intimatcl}'
acquainted for more than thirty years. In 1819, Dr. Packard assisted in my ordi-
nation at Ashfield, within the same county in which he exercised his ministry.
For fourteen years we were members of the same Association, lie was then in
the vigour of life. My first interview with him was at the convening of the
Council on the day previous to my ordination. I was favourably impressed with
his robust, manly form, and thoughtful, intelligent countenance. In person he
was of medium height, thick set, and somewhat stooping iji his neck and should-
ers. His hair was light and sandy, and his countenance partook of the same hue
His eye brows were unusually large, and, when engaged in conversation or dis-
cussion, which required careful thought, they were brought down so low as to
overshadow " the windows of his mind." About that time, if I recollect aright,
lie was afflicted with a scrofulous humour, which tended strongly to his lungs;
so that he was obliged to abstain occasionally from pulpit duties and travel
abroad. These .symptoms, however, he finally overcame by vigorous, physical
fxerci.se.
On further acquaintance with Dr. Paikard, 1 found him to be a man of great
vigour of intellect, and distinguished for his knowledge of theological doctrine
and ecclesiastical polity. He possessed extraordinary conversational j)owers. He
had ever at hand inexhaustible resources of anecdote with which to enliven and
impress his remarks. His reading was not extensive; his library was never
large; but he thought much. He went down into the very .sources of truth, and
Ijrought up the original ores, and wrought them into practical uses.
He was, as you are doubtless aware, a theological pupil of the celebrated Dr
Hurton. He adopted, throughout, " the Taste .scheme," as it was then called, of
which his honoured teacher was the champion, if not the father. I well remem-
ber the first discu.ssion 1 Iiad with him in his own study. It was during a winter
evening, and before we were aware of the lateness of the hour, the clock struck
one. This, I may say, was the mooted point of that day, and, for 3'ears, almost
every subject in Didactic Theology di-scusscd in our Association, ran more or less
into this question, upon which the members were about equally divided. Dr.
Packard's mode of debate was deliberate, clear, demonstrative, and in perfect good
temper. He dwelt much upon the analogy between matter and mind. lie care-
ruil v traced every eflect to its cause. Admit his jn'cmi.ses and there M'ds no way of
avoiding his conclusions. In conversational discussion, in which he took great
I
TIIEOnilLUS rACKAKD. 411
delight, he vr.is fond of the Socratic metliod of asking questions, concerning
points nearly bclf-Lvident, and thus advancing step by step, until, in the result,
you must yield the point, or contradict your first admission.
Dr. Packard possessed in an eminent degree what is called the "power of
management." It was in the province of no human being to sound the depth of
his mind, or fully to fathom his designs and purposes. And yet the grace of
<«od, imbuing his heart, so controlled this power that it became an instrument
of good. None but the evil-piinded felt its intervention, — meeting them where
they least suspected it, thwarting their sinister ends, and causing their weapons
to recoil upon themselves. Self-control was a marked characteristic in all the
movements of my venerated friend. He could not be taken by surpri.<e or thrown
from his balance b)^ any sudden gusts of feeling in those around him. It was
my lot to sit with him in councils, where there were conflicts and agitations of
parties arrayed one against another, while he, — generally in the chair, would sit
as unrulUetl as a rock in the surf.
As a preacher, Dr. Packard excelled, when fully aroused by the inspiration of
his subject and the occasion, and when he had no manuscript before him. When
lie read his discourses, he was sometimes complained of as heav)- and dull; but
iiever wlien he went with his whole heart and soul into his sulject, and uttered
his thoughts from the impressions gathered from surrounding circumstances,
lie was, both in the pulpit and out of it, a safe and successful cxtemporizer.
Often have I heard him utter his sentiments on occasions of public gatherings, —
such as were called " four day.s' meetings," in tones of impassioned eloquence
tiiat moved the assembled multitude, as if by a mighty rushing wind. Those
were days of religious revivals. In these, Dr. P. ever felt a <leep interest and
look an active part. He enjoyed many such seasons in his own congregation,
during his long ministry. I have often heard him speak of the great satisfaction
which he and his people enjoyed in the labours of Dr. Alexander, afterward Pro-
fes.sor in the Theological Seminary at Princeton, who, during a journey in New
Knglaiid, spent some time in Shelburne in a .season of revival. Many of Dr.
Packard's written discoui-ses were ingeniously constructed, and preached with
lasting results. I remember one addressed to my own people from Eccles. iii. -i.
" A time to dance." The result to \vhich the preacher came may be known by
the reply which was given by a young female to her mother on being questioned
where the text was. " I cannot remember the place," said the girl, " but I can
repeat the words — ' No time to dance.' "
In his domestic relations. Dr. Packard was greatly favoured. His house was
ever an abode of industry, order, economy, and ])eace. He was given to hospi-
tality. The celebrity ol the minister, the coun.sellor, the theologian, brought
many under his roof to share in the bounty of his table and store-house. To
such he extended a cordial hand and to their comfort and odilication he was
devoted.
Such was Dr. Packard in the days of his meridian strengih. After dissolving
my connection with the Franklin Association to labour in another portion of New
England, certain idiosyncrasies of mind were developed in the old age of Dr. P.,
which, for a time, occasioned some anxiety to his friends. Of these, however, I
liave had little knowledge. After he had completed his fourscore, I visited hira
for the last time in the family of his widowed daughter in South Dcerlield. I
was happy to find him still the same deep and original thinker. The philosophy
of the mind was his fivvourite theme. His heart was fervent in prayer for the
peace of Jerusalem. Having finished the work given him to do, he has gone to
receive his reward.
With sincere esteem , I remain
Your fellow-servant in the Gospel of Je.sns Christ,
THOMAS SUEPARD.
412 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL
ASA McFAULAND, 1). I).
1797—1827.
FROM THE REV. NATHAN IKL BOUTON, D. D.
C'oNCoiii), N. II., October 15, Ifll'.
Rev. and dcur Sir: I ohcorfiilly comply with your rcijuest for a britl
sketch of the late Rev. Asa MoFauland, D. D. Being hi.s successor in
the pastoral office, 1 have had a favourable opportunity to estimate his charac-
ter and to learn the leading facts of ids history.
He was about live feet and six inches in height, of a robust frame, some-
what corpulent ; a large head, small but piercing gray eyes, highly intelli-
gent ex]ircs^ion, and of dignitiod demeanour. He was slow of speech, but
his ordinary conversation and preaching was strongly marked with common
sense. He accjuired a commanding influence over the people of his charge.
I should add that he was occasionally subject to deep depression of
spirits.
Asa McFarland was born in Worcester, Mass., April 19, 17(39. — the son
of James McFarland, and the youngest of a family of ten children. Hi.s
father died when he was at the age of fourteen. In his twentieth year, with
small pecuniary means, he determined to obtain a collegiate education ; and
in his twenty-second year he entered Dartmouth College, one year in
advance, and graduated in 1793. He remaineil at Hanover the next four
years, two of which he spent as a Tutor in College, and two in Moor's
charity school. While at Hanover, he made a puldic profession of religinn,
and there also pursued theological studies. Obliged to defray the expenses
of his own education, his vacations were usually employed in teaching
music. By that means he was first introduced into Concord, and there, as
a candidate, he commenced his miidsterial labours. In January, 1798, he
received from the church and parish a very united call to settle with them
in the ministry, and was ordained on the 7th of March following. He con-
tinued his labours without interruption till the resignation of his charge, in
March, ISli."), making a period of twenty-seven years. From that time
more especially, his health and strength gradually declined, and he expired
on the morning of the Lord's Day, February IS, 1827, in the fifty-eighth
year of his age.
Dr. .^IcFarland possessed a vigorous and active mind ; was discriminating
in reasoning, and sound in judgment. With works of mere taste his
aciiuaintance was very limited ; he chose to discipline his mind in the school
of reason, rather than embellish it with the beauties of poetry and the cre-
ations of fancy. He was an admirer and student of Edwards and other
powerful reasoners of the same class. Averse to show and declamation in
the pulpit, a prominent characteristic of his preaching was, that it was
addressed to the understanding. His discourses were framed with logical
precision, were highly instructive and easily remembered. He dwelt much
on the doctrines of the Gospel — the ruined state of mankind by nature ; the
obligations of the Divine law ; the method of pardon and salvation through
Christ, and other truths with which these are connected. His manner in
the pulpit was easy and dignified. His voice full, loud, and sonorous, he at
ASA McFARLAXD. 413
times spoke with very considerable power. His sermons were often search-
ing and full of terror ; though, on account of his argumentative style, he
rarely moved his audience to tears.
Dr. McFarland's labours as a minister were very arduous and extensive.
He gave himself wholly to his work. Four days of the week were devoted
to study, and the fruits of his intellectual industry were abundant. He left
two thousand and fifty-four manuscrijit sermons, or an average of seventy-
six each year of his ministry. Besides his stated pre}?arations for the pul-
pit, he preached a lecture on Sabbath evening, a lecture in the course of
the week in some district of the town, and, for three years and a half, offici-
ated as Chaplain in the State's prison. He maintained frequent intercourse
with his people by visiting, and, in seasons of special religious interest,
often spent whole days in visiting from house to house and conversing with
individuals, as their respective circumstances required. There were three
such seasons during his ministry ; the first in 1 SI 1-12, in which ninety-five
were added to his church; the second in 181<j, when a hundred and eight
were added ; and the third in 1820, when eiglity-five were added. The
whole number added durijig his ministry was four hundred and forty.
But his influence and labours were not restricted to his own parish. The
frequent invitations he received to attend ordinations, to sit in council on
difiicult cases, and to preach on public occasions, evince the high reputation
he enjoyed abroad. As a musician, he exerted an extensive influence, by
his own performances and by putdic addresses, in improving the Psalmody
of the churches. In ls09, he was apjioiiiti'd a Trustee of Dartmouth Col-
lege, which otlice he honourably sustained till 1822, when he resigned, lie
was one of the founders and efficient supporters of the New Hampshire
Missionary Society, of which he was made President in 1811, and held the
oihce thirteen years. In 1812, he recoieved the honorary title of Doctor
of Divinity from Yale College. In his various puldic offices, he was prompt,
judicious, and efficient. Unostentatiuus and unassuming, when he found the
duties of public office burdensome, he willingly resigned them to others.
In 1824, on account of a general failure of health, and various bodily
infirmities, he signified to the parish his wish to resign his office and to unite
with them in securing a successor. And on the 23d of Jlarch, 1825, the
day on which !iis pastoral relation to the church was dissolved, his successor
was ordained, to whom Dr. McKarland delivered the Cliarge.
Subsequently his health gradually decline I. He experienced at difleront
times six shocks of paralysis, the last of which proved fatal. He habitually
exhibited a firm attachment to the cause of religion ; rejoiced in the pros-
perity of the churches in this State and in the spread of the Gospel abroad.
N\ hen lie spoke of the future, it was with calmness and comfortable hope.
But his physical and mental powers sunk together: for five weeks before
his death, he could only answer questions by " Yes " or " No." We grieved ^
that the sun which rose so fair, and shone so bright at its meridian, should
so soon go down behind a cloud; we mourned that the voice which waa
once so full and melodious, could utter no accents either of joy or hope, as
the immortal spirit was about to take its upward flight ; but we buwed in
humble submission, in the strong confidence that he entered into rest. Ho
died in this town, February 18, 1827.
The following is a list of Dr. McFarland's publications: — A Sermon
before the Franklin Lodge at Hanover, 1797. A Sermon preached the Sab-
414 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
bath after his ordination, 1798. A Thaiiksgivinf: Sermon, 1798. An Ora-
tion before the Society of the Plii Beta Kappa, at Dartmouth College, 180'2.
A Sermon at the ordination of William Rolfe,* 1803. A Sermon preached
the next Lord's Day after the total Kclipse of the Sun, 1806. An Histori-
cal view of Heresies and Vindication of the Primitive Faith. Signs of the
Last Times: a Sermon, 1808. A Sermon before the Executive and Legis-
hiture of New Hampshire, 1808. A Sermon on the importance of Family
lleliirion and Government, 1810. A Sermon before the New Hampshirt-
Missionary Society, 1812. A Sermon on the Sabbath, 1813. A Sermon
before the Moral Society, 1814. A Sermon at the ordination of Jonathan
Curtis at Epsom, 1815. A Sermon at the ordination of Isaac Jones at
Candia, 1816. A Sermon at the ordination of Nathan Lord at Amherst.
1816. A Sermon from Solomon's Song, vi. 10 — entitled "The Moral
Beauty and (jlory of the Church," 1822. A Sermon at the ordination
of ^Ir. Woodward.
Dr. McFarland was thrice married : first, to Clarissa Dwight of Belcher-
town, JMass., who died in 1799, leaving an infant which survived her but a
few days: second, to Nancy Dwight of Belchertown, in 1801, who died
within less than three months after their marriage : and third, to Elizabeth
Kneeland of Boston, in 1803, who survived him and died in 1838. By the
last marriage he had eight children.
With great respect, yours in the Gospel,
N. BOUTON.
JOSEPH McKEAN, D. D.f
1797—1818.
JosEim McKean was born at Ipswich, Mass., on the 19th of April,
1776. He was the youngest of five children. His father, William McKean,
was born in Glasgow, Scotland, April 7, 1739, and came to this country in
1763. His occupation was that of a tobacconist. He remained in Boston
several years after ho migrated hitlier ; but the war of the Revolution,
wliich occasioned a general interruption of l)usiness and drove multitudes
of families from their homes, led him, in 1775, to remove from lioston to
Ip.swich; but, at the close of the war, he returned to Boston, where he was,
for many years, a member of the New North church, and survived to mourn
the death of his son. His wife, whom he married in 1769, and who was the
daughter of Dr. Joseph Manning of Ipswich, a graduate of Harvard Col-
lege in 1751, — died May 15, 1776, sliortly after the birth of Joseph, the
subject of this notice.
In his early childhood, this son gave indications of uncommon vivacity of
spirits and activity of mind. Having gone through some of the elementary
branches at a public school in Boston, he was placed, in 1787, in the
•William Rolfe was born in Plaiatow, N. H., in 1773; was graduated at Dartmouth Col-
lege in 17y9; was ordained pastor of the church in Groton, N. H., November 9, 1803; wa*
dismissed iti June, 1828; and died in 18:i7.
[ MS. from L>r. Pierce. — Memoir by Dr. Frothingham.
JOSEPH M, KEAX. ' ; -,
Academy at Andover, then under the care of that distiuguLshed teacher,
Ebenezer Pemberton, L. L. D.* Here he held a high rank as a scholar,
and, at the Coiumeucemcnt in 1790, wa.s admitted a member of Harvard
College, at the age of fourteen years und three mouths.
Having sustained, a high reputation for scholarship, especially in the
classics and mathematics, through his whole college course, he was gradu-
ated in 1794. Immediately after, he engaged as teacher of a school at
Ipswich, and, at the same time, commenced the study of Theology,
under the direction of the Ecv. Dr. Joseph Dana. For this venera-
ble man he always cherished the most respectful and grateful regard,
considering himself as indebted, in no small degree, to him for many of the
best influences which had been exerted in the formation of his character.
In May, 179G, after he had had charge of the school at Ipswich nearly
two years, he left it, and became Principal of the Academy at Berwick.
Here he made a public profession of religion, and continued his theological
studies under the superintendence of the llev. John Thompson, t with whose
church he united. He left Berwick in Jul}-, 1797, took his second degree
at the University, and then completed his theological course under the direc-
tion of the llev. Dr. John Eliot of Boston, who was pastor of the church
with which his father was connected. Between Dr. Eliot and himself there
grew up a mo<t intimate friendship, which continued, without interruption
or abatement, to the close of Dr. Eliot's life.
He received "approbation" to preach, from the Boston Association, on
the 7th of August, 1797. His first efforts in the pulpit met with uncora-
• For the following account of Dr. Pembertov, I am indebted to my venerable friend, the
llev. Dr. Abbot, now (1856) of West Cambridge, and ninety-three years of age, — who is able
to speak of him from an early and intimate acciuaintancc : —
" I wish I WHS able to give an account of Dr. Pemberton, worthy of his excellent character.
I never heard him speak of his parents, but presume he was born in Ijoston, — being grandson
of the famous .Mr. Kbenezer i'cmbertou, minister of the Uld South church at the commence-
ment, of the last century, and contemporary with Dr. Colman. He was probably born in 1747
or 174S: he died in l-'oston in is:i.'), aged eighty-seven or eighty-eight, lie was "brought up by
his uncle, Dr. Kbenezer Pemberton, who was a graduate at Harvard in the class of 1721, and
like his father, was minister of a church in Boston. Sjieaking of the strictness with which the
Sabbath was formerly observed, he said, when his tincle sent him, on .Sabbatli morning, to
inquire oonccrning a sick neighbour, he was asked by the tithing man why he was in the street.
In early life, he was very much troubled with stammering, which it cost him much pains and
long continued efibrt to overcome. He was a graduate of the College of Aew Jersey in 1765,
and was a Tutor in the same College in 17C',». In the year 1786, he became I'receptor of Phillips
Academy, Andover, the immediate successor of Dr. Pearson. lie won the affection and confi-
dence of his pupils, which rendered the government <if the school easy. He was an excellent
reader, and his jdipils were much brnclited by his instructions and example. As a teacher he
was accurate, faithful, and successful. He was Princijial of the Academy for about seven years;
and it enjoyed a high reputation during his administration.
"Soon after resigning his place in the Academy at Andover, he opened a school at Billerica,
which he kept several years with re[iutati(in. During his residence there, he served as Deacon
of the church of which Dr. Cuminings was pastor. (»n leaving P.illerica, he removed to Boston,
and for some time taught a few (uijiils. l-'or a number of years, he was the Primate of the
Boston Association of Teachers, by whom he was highly esteemed. Age and infirmity crept
upon him without suitable provision for his support and comfort, and without the remuneration
which his faithful and useful labours in the cause of education so richly deserved. A number
of his former pupils cheerfully embraced the opportunity of expressing their gratitude and
respectful esteem by presenting liim a generous annuity. He was honoured with the degree of
L. L. D. by Alleghany College.
'' Dr. Pemberton was a little above the medium size, of dignified appearance; in manners,
a gentleman of the old school; in conversation, he was pleasant, and had a fund of anecdote
and useful remark; his passions were quick and strong, but were well controlled; his moral and
religious feelings warm, and his emotions sometimes almost overpowering.'
t John- Thompson was a son of the Rev. William Thompson, who was settled at Scarboro'.
Me., May 2li, 1728, and died February l."?, 1750. He (the son) was born at Scarboro; ; was
graduated at Harvard College in 1765; was ord.ained pastor of the church in Sfandish, Me.,
October 20, 171)8; suspended his ministrations at .Standish for want of support in 1781, and wm
formally dismissed two years after; was installed pastor of the church in Berwick in 1783; and
died in January, 1829, aged eighty-nine.
41(3 TKI^ITAIUAN CONGREGATIONAL.
mon favour, aiul in a short time lie received an invitation to settle over the
ohurcli at Miltun, a few uiilcs from Bostmi. This invitation he accepted,
and on the Lst of Novenilter 17l>7, was onhiineil pastor of that ehurch.
In iIk' summer of ISUo, Mr. McKean was seized with a dan;;erous fever,
wliieh greatly afi'eeted his lunjrs, so that it became necessary, in the opinion
of his physician, that he should visit a more genial clime. He accordingly
passed the next winter in Barhadoes, and the two suceeoding winters in tho
Carolinas. Meanwhile, regarding the j)rospect of his recovery as at best
doubtful, he asked and received an homiurablc <lismission from his pastoral
eliarue. His request was granted on the 3d of (Jctober, 1S04.
His health, after son)c time, having become so much improved as to allow
him to return to the pulpit, he preached occasionally in diflfcrcnt places, and
received an invitation from the Hollis Street church, Boston, to settle as
••oUeague with the llev. Dr. West. But, being apprehensive that his health
was not yet adequate to the labours and responsil)ilities of a regular charge,
hi! declined the invitation, and engaged, for a time, as teacher in one of the
town schools in Boston. In this vocation he always felt himself at home,
and never failed, it is believed, to satisfy his employers.
He was afterwards twice chosen by the citizens of Boston to represent
the town in the General court. Here he acquitted himself with so much
credit that some of liis friends became desirous that he should continue per-
manently in civil life ; and he was at one time somewhat inclined to do so ;
but. upon mature reflection, he concluded that his path of duty did not lie
in that direction.
In 180G, when Dr. Webber was appointed President of Harvard College,
Mr. McKean was appointed his successor as Professor of Mathematics.
He declined the appointment, on the ground, as was supposed, of a half-
formed purpose to give himself to political life, for which he had already
made some preparation, by engaging, as ho had leisure, in the study of the
Law.
Within about two years from the time of the former appointment, he was
chosen to succeed John Quincy Adams as Boylston Professor of Rhetoric
and Oratory. This appointment he accepted ; and his inauguration took
jdacc, October iH, 1S09. Here he continued laltoriously and successfully
1 niployed, till witliin a few months of his death.
In l^<14, the degree of Doctor of Laws was conferretl upon him by the
I »>llege of New Jersey ; and at a little later period, the degree of Doctor
ftf Divinity, by Alleghany College in Pennsylvania.
In conni'ction with the duties of liis Professorship, he exercised his oflice
as a prfa<her, in many of tin- neighbouring pulpits, and, at different periods,
sup])lied, for a length of time, several of the churches in Boston. It was
jiriil'ably owing to this accumulation of labour, that there was a revival of
tho complaints by which he had been afflicted in preceding years. In the
spring of 1817, his case was considered decidedly alarming. In the sum-
mer of tliat year, he journeyed, for the benefit of his health, to Montreal ;
anl, about the close of the year, his disease not being arrested or materially
mitifated, he left home, by tlie urgent recommendation of his physicians, to
pass the winter in South Candina.
It was, however, soon thought necessary that he should go still farther
South. Accordingly, he directed liis course to Havana, and arrived there
greatly reduced in strength, February 15, 1818, As he was without a
JOSEPH McKEAN. 4^7
friend, or even an attendant, on this voyage, he fortunately was received
iuto a family, (that of Mr. Samuel Cursou, formerly of lioston,) from whom
he received the most atfoctiouate hospitalities, lie, however, continued
rapidly to decline, and it had now become but too certain that his mortal
career was nearly closed. His thoughts were evidently concentrated upon
future and eternal scenes; and, for the last few days of his life, he wished
to hear little reading except the Bible, and the ITGth and liTUth Hymns in
Belknap's Collection. On the morning of his decease, there wore read to
him, by his request, the 121st and loLlth Psalms. He retained so much
strength as to be able to undress himself, till the very night before his
death. He would allow no one to sit up with him. The gentleman in
whose house he staid, hearing him breathe in an unusual manner, some time
in the night, went to him and administered some refreshment ; but Dr.
McKean would not consent that he should remain \\ith him, or even leave
a light in his apartment. The next morning he was, with great difficulty,
relieved from an ineffectual fit of coughing. He continued much of the
time in the posture of devotion, till half-past two o'clock, P. M., (March
17,) when he gently expired. He was buried the next day, and Mr. Frost,
a clergyman from the South, who had gone thither for the benefit of his
health, read the burial service over his remains. On Wednesday, the 22d
of April, the funeral solemnities took place at Cambridge, when Professor
Hedge delivered a Eulogy, which was published.
Dr. McKean was an active member of various literary, benevolent, and
religious associations. During his college course, and, for several subse-
•jueut years, he took great interest in the Phi Beta Kappa Society, of which
he was, for some time. President. Of the Massachusetts Historical Soci-
ety he was a very useful member, and for some time Becording Secretar}".
The "Collections" are much indebted to his vigilant attentions and perse-
vering efforts. He was Secretary of the Massachusetts Congregational
Society, was a member of the Society for propagating the Gospel, Corres-
ponding Secretary of the Society for the suppression of intemperance, an
honorary member of the Historical Society of New York, &c.
The following is a list of Dr. McKcan's puldications : — A Valedictory
Sermon preached in Milton, 11^04. A Plea for friendship and patriotism,
in two Discourses preached in the First church, Boston, 1814. A Sermon
at the ordination of J. B. Wight, 1815. A Sermon at the ordination
i)f N. L. Frothingham, 1815. A Sermon on the death of John Warren,
M. D., 1815. A Sermon at the installation of the llev. Dr. Kichmond,*
1817. Memoir on the llev. John Kliot, S. T. 1)., jirinted in the Histori-
• Edward Richmond was born at MiiMIcboroupli, Mass., in 1707; was graduated at IJrown
V'nivcrsity in 1789; studied Tiicology under the Rev. David Ourney of North Middlcboro . wa»
ordained pastor of the ehurch in .Stoiighton, Mass., l>ecenilicr 5, 1792; was disnuMcd .Tanuary
15, 1H17; waa installed at Dorchester on tlic 25th of June following; was dismissed in 18.1.H;
mid afterwards resided for several years in liraintrec. lie died in licston, April 10, ISI2. Jlo
received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Drown University in 1S15. lie pnblishcil a Ser-
mon at the orJination of Lemuel Wadsworth; [who was born in Stoiighton. Mass., in 1769;
was graduated at Urown University in 179.'>; was ordained pastor of the church in Kaby. (now
Drookline.) N. II., October II, r7V7; and died November 25, 1S17, aged forty-eight :] a Ser-
mon at the Consecration of Rising Star Lodge in Stoughton, ISOl ; a Sermon preached to tho
Scholars of Derby Academy in Ilingham, lsi»7; a Sermon on the List time of assembling in tho
old meeting-house at Stoughton, 1SU8. Zechariah Kddy, Esq., who knew Dr. Richmond well,
says of him — " He was a professed Arminian, and when Vnitarianism came in. he was considered
as having embraced it. Ue waa a sedate, candid man, a close and acute rcaaoner, and wm much
respected as a minister as well aa a neighbour "
Vol. n. 53
418 TUINITAKIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
cal Collections. Addition to Wood's continuation of Goldsmith's Historv
of England.
In Septonibcr, ITl'D, Dr. McKcan was married to a daughter of Major
Swasey of Ipswich, who survived liim. lie left three sons and three daugh-
ters. One of tlie daughters is married to Mr. J. E. Worcester, the widl
known (jeographer and Lexicographer, and another to Mr. Charlts Folsom
late Librarian of Harvard College and of the Boston Athenaeum. Two of
his sons graduated at Cambridge with distingui.shed reputation.
Frw<JM THE Ki:V. NATHANIEL LANGDON FROTniNGUAM, D. D.
Boston, April 3, 1850.
My dear Sir: Yon ask nic to write to you, in a familiar way, some of my recol-
lections of Dr. Josopl) McKcan. To do this will bo a labour of the sincercst love on
my part; — if inik-ed that can be called a labour, which is a grateful exercise of the
mind, turno'l towards a distina;uislied friend of my early days, and a very dear
and honoured name. It was my advantage to enjoy his notice, soon after he
took the ehair of rkhctoric and Oratory at Harvard University, where I was at
that time an undergraduate. It was among my delights to see him often and
familiarly during the rest of his life. It was my sorrow to lose him in a way
that to my youthful apprehension seemed sudden, and to have to speak his eulogy
in the church to which he had been all but a pastor, and where his memory is
cherished to tliis very hour.
His bony fra'iie and strongly marked countenance come back to me, as I reflect,
with the most jjcrfect distinctness. 1 hardly seem to have ever lost sight of them.
His appearance marked him out for no common man. lie was cast in one of
those extraordinary moulds, that made Iiiin at once an object of attention. Per-
sons in the street would turn to look after him when he had pas.scd them ; his
speech was .so earnest, his look so animatctl, his bearing, though entirely plain
and grave, so free and noble. He always appeared to me athletic; and yet his
health could never have been completely sound during any part of the term of my
acquaintance with him. His head, 1 used to think, bore a striking resemblance
to that of the mo.st common portraits of Lorenzo de Medici. His long, straight,
black hair, was gathered into a careless tie behind, and allowed to stray a little
over his face. His full black eyes threw their expression from under a brow and
forehead that might almost be called severe; but his mouth was as full of sweet-
ncs.H as any I ever saw. His features were extremely flexible, taking every con-
ceivable light and shaili^ from his inward feelings, and those feelings were of the
most delif.ito s •nsi})i!ity. The mingle<l tenderness and thoughtfulness, that I
have often marked not only stealing over them but settling down upon them, —
like a watchful bird upon a soft nest, 1 do not remember to have observed anv
where else so lieautifully <lisplay(;d as it was between those large cliook-bones
and upon that swarthy skin. His voire was deep and rich, corresponding to .such
a pliysiopnomy. His ready smile was phi^'ful, alfectionate. His laugh, that was
ready also, was one of those open-mouthed peals of mirth, which, without any
diminution of dignity, arc given with the heartiest good will, having a real bene-
volence in their .sound, an'l showing that the man is neither overcome with them
nor ashamed of them.
Perhaps 1 am dwelling too long on what may be called physical qualities. But
they are not merely such. They belong closel}' to the inward per.son. They
were characteristic of his whole .self Besides, you ask for my reminiscences;
and to what lould they be expected to attach thcm.sclves so vividly as to the
pcruliarities tliat I have descrilied .' But I will come to other things. The dis-
positions, the temper of Dr. McKean, his moral traits and complexion, were
naturally among the first things to attract my youthful observation. These inter-
JOSEPH McKEAN. 419
ested me strongly from the very beginning of my acquaintance with him. They
were of a kind that could not fail to engage the feelings of every one; they were so
manifestly sincere, so impatient of all duplicity, so incapable of any meanness, so
bold in their frankness, but so friendly in their intent. As 1 have meditated upon
them often in after years, they have rather gained than lost in my admiration of
them'. lie was of a cordial, impulsive nature, fervid in all things. He must have
been originally of an unusually vehement spirit, but it M-as so held in check by its
kindliness and its conscientiousness, that strongly as his emotions continued to
show themselves all through his life, I never saw him provoked into any unbecoming
heat, and never heard a peevish or bitter expression from his lips. lie was tena-
cious of his judgments also, and had his full share of what would be called hi3
prejudices. And yet I have known him to show the most marked good will
towards those with whom he could have no sympath}', either in their opinions or
their conduct; offering them the warmtii of his ever open hospitality, while at
the same time he declared to them privately Avhat he most disapproved in the
course they had taken. 1 look back upon him as an ardent, generous, lofty mind;
susceptible but independent; resolute but considerate; easy to kindle and easy to
melt; but the first without rage and the last without weakness.
Constituted as he thus was, you may easilj' suppose that he had a nice sense of
honour; that he was keenly alive to whatever touched the regard in which he
sought to be held, and which he accounted his due. lie carried this sensibility
into too great refinement perhaps; and even to a jealous punctiliousness. Not
from vanity or arrogance in the least degree; but from an over delicacy of senti-
ment; or from a scrupulousness that weighed the absolute propriety of things,
and not his personal interests at all; or from a quick resentment of what .seemed
to him any other than the most ingenuous dealing. A remarkable example of
this was related to me by himself, as we were once walking together. After he
had resigned the pastoral charge of the church at Milton, he was told by a mem-
ber of the Corporation of Harvard University that tiie I loUis Professorship of
mathematics, then made vacant b}' the elevation of Dr. AVelister to the Presidency
of the institution, would be oflered to him. if he was inclined to accept it. Nothing
could have been more gratifj-ing to him than such a propo.sal. He acceded to it at
once. That Mas the very position he would have preferred to all others. Mathe-
matics had been liis favourite study, while he was an undergraduate of the College.
That witty indecorum, tlie "Junior Clas.sology," described him as coming to tho
revels " From Pike's learned page." He thought that he should now find solace
for what he had undergone as a parish minister, in that honourable and plea.sanl
chair. It was suite<l to his tastes. It allbrded him the finest field for cultivating
a cho.sen pursuit. It satisfied his fullest ambition. Humour began to publish the
secret, and congratulations were ]iai<l him on his proposed removal to Cambridge,
when the newsjjapers announced the election to the expected place of a distin-
guished citizen who afterwards spread his fame over the whole scientific world.
On seeking an explanation of this, Mr. McKean was informed that it was all right;
that the compliment was thought a proper one to pay to the attainments of Dr.
howditch, though it was known that he would not accept the office, while the real
Profes.sor was to be no other than himself. He had been so wounded, however,
that he refused to have any thing further to do with the proposition. This was very
unwi.-^e, it is true. lUit the want of vvisdom was of that nature which only an
elevated spirit could be capable of. The self-respect might have been a mistaken
one, but it was still self-respect. A feeling somewhat kindred to this, though
without any stain of this world's passion upon it, led him to decline an invitation
from the church in HoUis Street to become tlie successor of Dr. W est. He made
it a point that the invitation shoidd be a unanimous one; and it failed of being so
only by a single voice. This solitarv opposition was made by a gentleman, who
soon afterwards joined the congregation of the Old South, where more orthodox
420 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
opiuions were supposed to be entertained. Tlic course taken by Mr. McKcan on
this occasion, seemed to those whom it disappointed, more nice than just; since
it subjected the wishes of a whole society to the will of an individual; but all
admitted the purity of its motive. I'erhaps he was reminded too forcibly by his
previous ministerial experience that it was necessary to begin at least that rcla
tiou witli an entire consent, and a great deal of love.
As a preacher, Dr. Mclvean was exceedingly impressive. Wherever he went,
he was listened to with respectful attention and deep interest. For this, he was
much indebted, no doubt, to his imposing figure and manner, and the solemn
fervour that pervaded all his services, lie was evidently and entirely engaged in
them. The rhetorical language of his devotions, apparently unselected and
inspired by the moment, flowed over his audience with a copious power. His
appearance in the pulpit, though not what would be called graceful, was much
more than that; — it was massive and grand. The intonations of his voice, though
quite peculiar to himself, governed by scarcely any rules of the art that he taught
from the Professor's chair, were yet agreeable to all hearers, and probably the
more effective from their strong peculiarities. As regards the composition of his
sermons, they were thrown off too rapidlj- and with too little anxiety of premedi-
tation to allow of their being finished performances. They never seemed to me to
do justice to his intellectual vigour. But they did their work satisfactorily, at a
time when the public did not expect the effort that it afterwards came to require
in this difficult department of labour. I make no question that they sunk profit-
ably into the hearts of many, and that is the highest object of Christian preaching.
He has told me that he could never carry any but a blotted manuscript w4th
him into the desk; for if he revised or copied it ever so many times, he should
be always altering and interlining what he had written.
As a lecturer in the college chapel he allowed himself great freedom. Ho
would often discourse in the most desultory manner; not as any statute pre-
scribed, but as his mind happened to be exercised by the public events of the
day. This, if it made his lectures more exciting, certainly detracted from their
academic value. His most judicious friends, on giving them a careful examina-
tion after his lamented decease, could find nothing worthy of his reputation to be
given to the press. And yet he was a most diligent and devoted officer in that
important branch of instruction which was committed to his charge. lie was
a close student, freely communicating of what he had learned. lie was a great
favourite with his pupils; at least 1 can answer for the time when I was among
them. They were won by the cordiality and frankness of his intercourse with
them. He attempted to introduce a more intimate personal relation between
them and himself than had before been the custom. He was the first to declare
to his classes, that while he was ready to show them every forbearance in the
exaction of their duties, he should rely very much on their own proper sense of
those duties; and that he would never consent to inflict any penalty, as if that
could be accepted as a substitute for the required task. If I rightly remember,
however, this generosity of his did not continue to be met by the young men
with a kindred spirit; and it was among his griefs to be obliged to fall back in
disappointment upon tiie old methods, and to report his delinquents to the Col-
lege Faculty. At the same time, I am not sure, that .with the members of that
Faculty, his coUeapucs in the government of the University, his sympathies
were so active as would have been desirable for his perfect contentment with his
sphere of occupation. He thought to do more and better by standing a little
apart. Thus the stated meetings of the College authorities lost the counsel and the
animation which his presence, had it been given, could not have failed to impart
to them. He might have misjudged here as in some other things. But if he did,
it was for his endeavour's sake; it was from an impulse that urged him forward
and not for any petty gratification of his own. I am persuaded that he would
JOSEPH McKEAN. 421
have been happier where he was, if he had been more yielding to the circumstan-
ces around him. As it was, he had no disinclination, after a terra of sufficient
experiment, to relinquish to some one else a chair of instruction that had never
been his preference. I have good reason to believe that he would not have
rejected an invitation to be the Principal of the Latin school in Boston, when that
establishment was placed upon its new and higher position, and Mr. B. A. Gould
was called from his student's room within the College walls to raise it to the
eminence which it soon attained to under his judicious skill and scholarly labours.
I cannot omit to mention his political partialities. They were so prominent
that they could escape the notice of no One. They were strongly displayed like
every thing else in his enthusiastic character. They entered largely into his
conversation and public discourse. They coloured many of his judgments upon
subjects that had no connection with the administration of civil afiairs. We
must admit that he was very far indeed from being a champion on the side of
freedom. He favoured rather the cause of prescription and authority. In all
questions about government, he was to be found on "the extreme right."
Charles the First had still some claims to the title of a martyr in his eyes; and I
am afraid that he never quite forgave Milton for being the Secretary and the eulo-
gist of the Great Protector. The American Revolution itself, he sometimes
seemed to doubt the blessing of. In a " sovereign people," he placed little confi-
dence. The English nation, with its aristocracy and throne, towered before him
as the single bulwark of the whole of Christendom. The inroads of democracy
were his chief dread on this side of the sea. No one can wonder at this, who
reflects on the state of Europe, and of party strifes in our own country at that
time. French principles were spreading every where their infection. French
aggression was threatening the independence of the world. No British eloquence
was so much read, as that of Edmund Burke, or so well deserved to be read.
The overthrow of the Federal administration of this country by its rival power,
and the course of measures that followed, struck alarm into the minds of many
of the best patriots in the land. He took his stand with that part}' which
enrolled by far the greatest number of the distinguished names of New England
in its ranks; and if he went further than the rest and pushed his doctrine to a
point beyond what could be soberly maintained, it was because his spirit naturally
hurried him to the van.
The subject of his religious opinions next claims from me a few words. When
I first began to know him, the great dividing controversy had not broken out,
and it was not till long afterwards that my attention was much turned towards
that point in the views of my revered friend. My own connections were early
with the denomination that was called Unitarian or Liberal; and as I knew him
to have been in the same circle of intimacy, 1 naturally concluded that there was
no discrepancy between us in theological conclusions, so far as I had attained to
any. This persuasion, however, I had before long to abate. I thought I per-
ceived that some of his tendencies were towards a different apprehension of our
common Christianity. But he was not a dogmatist. He had no taste for theo-
logical dispute. He loved to revere his religion with a veiled face rather than to
speculate about it. He was anxious to receive its mysteries, without presuming
to penetrate them. There was no friend whom he loved and praised so much as
he did the liberal Dr. John Eliot; "in -whom," he said in a note to a sermon,
preached at East Sudbury in 1815, " orthodoxy was charity." When the stu-
dents of the College left the village church, and assembled for worship in their
own new chapel. Dr. McKean with his family, remained adhering to Dr. Holmes
and to the old spot. It would have been strange if he had done otherwise. He
belonged to that parish, wherever the academic meetings might be held; and its
pastor, a close personal friend, was the closer to him by a community of histo-
rical studies, in which they both took delight and laboured to great public use.
422 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Ilis decision may not have been iiifluuncod at all by doctrinal considerations.
At the same time, I am perfectly aware that he did not favour the developments
of " Liberal Christianity " as they disclosed themselves, after 181L It is
extremely probable that his sympathies ran more and more into the opposite
direction.
But whatever doubt may exist in the minds of any, in regard to his religious
opinions, there can be no doubt surely in regard to his religious character. This
■was beautiful to look upon. It was profoundly serious, without the smallest mix-
ture of gloom or austerity; warm l)ut without any e.vcessiveness or false lire;
manifest but unobtrusive; wholly free from pretension or cant; dealing in no
thread-bare common-places, formalizing itself into no solemn conventionalities;
in harmony with all innocent enjoyments; reserving its word for tlie proper
season, and uttering it only in the most becoming manner. It formed a
spontaneous part of his genial, ingenuous, manly nature. He appeared to me
to be always under the silent power of religious ideas, that lay upon him with
so gentle a government as only to add one charm more to his eminent social
qualities. His faith was a quiet guide to him. It cheered him in the anxieties
of his way, kept him patient under the appointments of God, and prepared him
for his departure when he saw that the day of it was not far oil".
The lirst notice that I remember having of his danger, was when I found him
one morning writing in his study. lie looked up at me in his usual calm man-
ner, and said, " I am putting my house in order." I understood his allusion,
but did not believe that I was going to lose him. The last time that 1 saw him,
I expressed the wish that I could accompany him to his warmer climate from
which so much was hoped. Even then I did not believe that I should never see
him again. But it pleased the Highest Will to ordain it differently from our
desire. He embarked for the AVest Indies, but his voyage was to the blessed
islands that contain no graves. I seem as I write to be taking leave of him once
more. "Vale: in melius."
I remain, dear Sir, with great respect and regard.
Very truly yours,
N. L. FROTUINGHAM.
JEDEDIAH BUSIINELL.
1798—1846.
FRO.M THE REV. TIIOM.VS A. MERRILL, D. D.
MiDDLEBURY, Vt., August 22. 1 349.
Rev. and dear .'•ir : Agreeably to your request, I transmit to you the fol-
lowing sketch of the life of the hitc Kev. Jedkdiaii Busiinell. As it
has been subjected to the scrutiny of his family, and the members of the
Association in which wc acted together forty years, I tlilnk you may rely on
its correctness.
He was born at Saybrook, Conn., November 20, 17U9. Ills father died
before he had attained his seventh year. At the age of sixteen, ho
was apprenticed to a tanner and shoemaker. Having finished the course
and attained the acquisitions contemplated in his indentures, at the age of
twenty-one he established himself in business. When he commenced for
himself, he had but half a set of shoe-maker's tools, and not leather enough
JEDEDIAH BUSHNELL. 423
to make two pairs of shoes. After pursuing his calling industriously for
about two years, he was brought to cherish entirely new views of himself
as a sinner, and to repose his confidence for salvation wholly in the merits
of the lledcemer. The circumstance that first drew his attention to his
immortal interests, was peculiar. A stranger called while he was in the
bark mill to enquire the way. Mr. BushncU very cheerfully informed him.
After turning to pursue his journey, the stranger still lingered to enquire
whether he was in "the way" of salvation. Having received the impres-
sion that Mr. B. was living to the world, he dropped a few words with great
seriousness, and as Mr. 13. supposed from his countenance and tone, with
affectionate concern for his salvation, and closed with these lines of Watts :
" Sinners awake betimes; ye fools, be wise,
" Awake before the dreadful morning rise,
" Change your vain thoughts, your crooked ways amend,
" Fly to the Saviour, make tlie Judge your friend."
Having, as it seemed to him, been brought into a new world, he had a
very strong desire to become a messenger of salvation to others. The result
was that he soon commenced a course of study and began to "fit for College."
He entered Williams College in 1793, and graduated in 1797. His industry
and economy, while pursuing his trade, added to the emoluments of school
teaching, enabled him to defray the expenses of his College course. After
leaving College, he pursued the study of Divinity with the liev. Mr. Judson
of Sheffield, Mass. Having been licensed to preach, he laboured for a time
in different places with great success. While preaching at Canandaigua,
N. Y., the Spirit of the Highest accompanied the demonstration of truth
in a wonderful manner. The Connecticut Missionary Society, wishing to
secure the services of one whose labours were so remarkably blessed in
developing the Gospel and bringing souls to Chri.-rt, requested him to accept
a commission as a missionary. He entered their service and co-operated
with^ome other devoted men, and the savour of his name to this day in
Western New York is as refreshing to many aged Christians as the dew that
descended upon the mountains of Zion.
Excepting a few weeks, for the first five years of his ministry, he laboured
in the new settlements, and was employed as a missionary in Western New
York, and Western Vermont, most of the time.
As he ranged through Western Vermont, he visited Cornwall, and
was requested, in the autumn of 1802, to preach with reference to a settle-
ment. The result was that he commenced his la})Ours there as a candidate
in February, 1803, and was installed as pastor of the Congregational church,
which was then one of the most numerous, most spiritual, and most vigorous
in Vermont, on the 25th of May following. Shortly after his settlement,
he was united in marriage with Elizabeth Smith, daughter of Ezra Smith
of Richmond, and subsequently of Burlington.
Dr. Strong of Hartford, Conn., a leading member of tlie Board of Trustees,
stated to me that Mr. Bushnell had made a grand mistake in exchanging the
missionary field to whicli he was so admirably adapted, for pastoral duties,
where he could not exhibit equal tact and talent. But though few, if any,
wore more sagacious and judged more accurately of men, in this instance
he entirely mistook. For if Mr. Bushnell had not extraordinary talent, he
had an unusual share of common sense, which, connected with his devoted-
uesa ♦^o the welfare of his people, and his uncommon power to bring the
424 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
naked truth to bear on the conscience, placed liim as a pastor on as high an
eminence as he ever occupied as a missionary. Mr. Bushnell higlily prized,
and intensely laboured to promote, revivals of religion, and very few pastors
have witnessed such a succession of Divine refreshings as fruits of their
labours.
An extensive revival had prevailed in Addison County in 1801 and 1802,
and Mr. Bushnell, as a missionary, was a loading agent in promoting it.
Cornwall, at that time, had a pastor, and shared largely in this revival.
But Mr. Bushnell's labours, when he became settled there, were soon felt
in their quickening power, and in 180G was a revival of religion which
brought more than one hundred into his church. This revival was succeeded
by others, after intervals of very few years, so that, during his ministry
there, of precisely thirty-three years, his church enjoyed fourteen revivals
of religion. In 1835, various circumstances combined to render the expe-
diency of his continuing his pastoral relation questionable. Some did not
sympathize with him on certain topics that have agitated many churches, and
became anxious for his dismission. The result was that he was dismissed
on the ^oth of May, 183G. And rarely has a minister been dismissed in
consequence of a want of unauiinity in his church, where his indiscretions
were so few and far between.
The neighbouring churches which were destitute, and highly appreciated
his ministrations, as they ever had done, employed him seven years. In
one of them. New Haven, an interesting revival prevailed, which he super-
intended with his usual devotedncss, and with all the energy of a young
man.
In the spring of 1843, Mr. Bushnell's throat was so affected in conse-
quence of an attack of the erysipelas fever, that he became unable to preach.
He, however, exhibited the same traits of character as formerly, till 184(5,
when his constitution yielded to the inroads of consumption, and he fell
asleep in Jesus on the 2.5th of August, aged seventy-six.
Mr. Bushnell, as might be expected from his character, while pre-eminently
devoted to the interests of his church and people, strenuously promoted the
great objects of Christian benevolence. He was one of the founders of the
Vermont Missionary Society, and one of the Committee of Missions of that
Society. He was also one of the Trustees of 3Iiddlebury College, and was
active in bringing forward young men to be educated, especially to be edu-
cated for the ministry. And it may be asserted with much confidence that,
during his ministry, no town in New England, in proportion to its population,
save a liberal education to so large a number as Cornwall.
Mr. Bushnell was one of the editors of "The Adviser," — a monthly
magazine published in Middlcbury for several years by the General Conven-
tion, and contributed to it a few articles. But he was reluctant to publish,
and never consented to print a sermon except his Farewell Discourse, on
resigning his charge in Cornwall. At the time he studied Divinity, Theo-
logical Seminaries were not established, and few took so wide a range as is
customary in these days. But Mr. Bushnell gave special attention to a
System of Divinity, and none were more at home within the range he had
contemplated. None preached the doctrines commonly called Calvinistic
with more perspicuity, pungency, and fearlessness.
Mr. Bushnell had three sons and four daughters, of whom but two
survived him, — Jedediah S. Bushnell of Middlebury, Attorney at Law,
JEDEDIAH BUSHNELL. 425
and Abigail, wife of the Rev. Hiram Bingham, Professor of the Natural Sci-
ences in Marietta College, Ohio. Mrs. Bushnell, who had been a help-meet
for her husband, followed him to his iinal rest, on the 2Gth of March, 1847.
Truly yours,
THOMAS A. MERRILL.
FROM THE REV. SETH WILLISTON, D. D.
Sangerfield, N. T., November 19, 1849.
Rev. and dear Sir : In compliance with your request, I will endeavour now to
give you a hw particulars concerning the Rev. Jedediah Bushnell, as they came
to my knowledge by means of a personal acquaintance, — an acquaintance which,
while we were on missionary ground together, was peculiarly intimate.
My acquaintance with Mr. Bushnell commenced in the spring, or the beginning
of the summer, of 1798. I was then spending a few days at Ballston Spa; and,
having heard that there was a young minister by the name of Bushnell preaching
in that vicinity, who appeared to have a more than common degree of spirituality
and zeal in the cause of Christ, I scut him a request to meet me at my boarding
house at the Springs. This was the divinely appointed place for our acquaintance
to commence. At this time, I enjoyed his company but a single day. Yet,
during this short space, I became greatly interested in my new friend. My
expectations, which had been raised, were not at all disappointed.
in the latter part of that summer and the following autumn, I performed a
mission in behalf of the Connecticut Missionary Society through the Military
Tract; during which I learned that Mr. Bushnell passed through it on his way
to Canandaigua; having been invited by the people of that place to preach to them
in their destitute condition. In the month of December, when I had finished my
mission in the military lands, and having then received no other appointment, I
concluded to make a journey to Canandaigua for the sake of seeing my friend
Bushnell. On the Sabbath after my arrival, while I preached in his place, he
went to spend the day in one of the neighbouring places, where they had as yet
no minister. On the succeeding week, I found he had a string of appointments
for preachir.g and religious conference, to begin at East Bloom field and proceed as
far West as the Genesee river, and thence to return on a diti'erent route. All
these places were then ■without any ministers. I mention the labours of this week
and the circumstance of his supplying a vacant congregation on the Sabbath,
when, if he had pleased, he might have remained at home and rested from his
labours, — for the purpose of shewing that Mr. Bushnell had the true spirit of a
Christian missionar}^ lie received nothing for these extra services; but, in
view of that destitution of the Gospel ministry which then prevailed all around
him, he knew not how to confine his labours to one congregation. I soon per-
ceived that these occasional visits wliich he made to the adjacent places, and the
manner in which he addressed the people, both in pubUc and private, had
made a very favourable impression on their minds. Christians were edified, and
the careless and ungodly men were heard to say, "Mr. Bushnell wants to have
us saved." But they were not led to this conclusion by his saying any thing
wliich was calculated to make them think that, in their controversy with God, he
took their side against their Maker. He was very explicit in asserting the riglit-
eousne-ss of those claims which God makes on his rebellious subjects; and the amia-
bleness of that Divine attribute which is apt to draw forth the enmity of the carnal
mind, — namely, retributive justice. I recollect hearing him once, at a conference
meeting at Bloomficld, speak at some length on the justice of God in punishing sin.
lie spoke of his justice as being a lovely feature in his character; as though it was
but little inferior to mercy itself in its attractiveness.
Vol. II. 54
426 TRINITARIAN C02*GREGATI0iNAL.
I believe that Mr. Bushnell's labours in that region, previously to his receiving
a missionary appointment, prepared the way for tliat revival in Ontario county,
which distinguished the year 1799. It was during this year that he received an
appointment from the Missionary Society of Connecticut; in whose service he
spent several years. Some of these years were spent in New York, and some in
Vermont; where, at length, he became the pastor of a church. While he con-
tinued his labours in the State of New York, I sometimes came in contact with
him. lie always seemed, whenever I met Avith him, to be the amiable Christian
brother and the zealous minister of the Gospel. His company was agreeable and
edifying. His speech Avas with grace, seasoned witli salt. He evidently felt
his dependance on God, on whose name he seemed to delight to call. In those
interviews which he had with his ministerial brethren and other friends, he was
fond of having a portion of the time devoted to the exercise of prayer. In such
a practice, I believe he persisted through life; for, in a visit which I made him but
two or tlu'ee years before his death, I perceived that he was unwilling to have an
interview with his Christian brethren close, until they had all knelt and prayed
together.
I have often said that Mr. BushneU was the most successful missionary in
Western New York that I had ever known. If it be asked to what cause I
impute his extraordinary success, — I would say, after acknowledging the sove-
reignty of God in the matter, that I impute it to his uncommon spiritual qualifi-
cations. His excellency did not consist in classical learning; nor in the elegant
composition of his sermons; nor in the rhetorical delivery of them. His know-
ledge of Gospel docti'ines, however, was good. It was experimental, and I think
quite accurate. Of common sense he had a good share; and his knowledge of
men, — of particular characters, was thought to be somewhat extraordinary. His
piety appeared to be deeper and more intense than that of Christians in general,
from the ver}' commencement of his religious course. His preaching was apt to be
on those subjects which have a very direct reference to the salvation of the soul.
It was plain, searching, and pungent. He spoke as one who believes what he
says. He evinced great tact and faithfulness in his private labours with indivi-
duals. He could, better than almost any other man I have ever known, approach
the sinner, whether in low or high life, and plead with him to be reconciled to
God. He did not approach him sternly, but with all the meekness and gentleness
of Christ. His manner was adapted to make the sinner feel — " This man believes
that I am in a sinful and lost condition; and he wishes to have me repent of my
sins and obtain eternal salvation."
As you did not expect from me a biography of this favoured servant of Christ,
but merely a few sketches of that part of his life which came under my personal
observation, I will add nothing more but the name of
Your friend and brother
In the minstry of reconciliation,
SETH WILLISTON.
FROM THE REV. E. C. WINES, t). D.
East Hampton, L. I., October 6, 1853.
My dear Sir: The late Rev. Jedediah BushneU was, in several respects, a
remarkable man. His venerable appearance comes vividly to my recollection, as,
in comphance with your kind request, I take the pen to communicate a few per-
sonal reminiscences concerning him. Although it is at least twenty years since
I last saw him, yet the tall and manly form, slightly bending forward, the dark
brown hair, thickly covering his large and well developed head, the mild but
piercing blue eye, the strong yet benevolent features, the clear, shrill voice, the
quick, energetic motion, and the earnest, aflectionate, heavenly manner of th«
JEDEDIAH BUSHNELL. 427
man, are all fresh in my recollection. Nor are the finer, nobler lineaments of the
inner man less distinctly traced in the memory. A beautiful and rather unusual
assemblage of talents, attainments, and graces, met in him; — a vigorous under-
standing; a solid judgment; a strong but chastened imagination; a deep famili-
ai'ity with the distinctive doctrines of the Gospel, and a hearty love of them; a
keen discernment of character; a just and accurate knowledge of men and tilings;
zeal tempered with wisdom, and prudence unalloyed by worldly policy; great
integrity of heart; extraordinary simplicity of character and singleness of purpose;
and a rare union of the contemplative with the active, of fervency with candour,
of faithfulness in bearing testimony against evil with the tenderest compassion
towards the evil doer, of boldness and perseverance in duty with entire freedom
from every thing noisy and overbearing, of deep seriousness with habitual cheerful-
ness, and of a constant aim to promote in the highest degree the spirit of piety in
himself and others with a readiness to hope the best of the lowest. And all this
was as it were pervaded and impregnated by holy love, — a Divine flame, which was
fed by every thing he saw, heard, read, or studied, and which made his sermons,
for the most part, effusions of the heart, and gave them a direct aim towards
the hearts of his hearers. He was indeed a burning and shining light, not only
to his own people, who greatly loved and revered him, but to all the churches
in the vicinity, which rarclj^ failed to send for him, in cases of diflQculty, as
being a peace maker of unsurpassed judgment and prudence.
It is now more than thirty years since I first saw Mr. Bushnell and heard him
preach. I well remember the sermon, the appearance and manner of the preacher,
and especially an incident which occurred during the delivery of the discourse.
His subject was the doctrine of the Divine sovereignty; and his manner of treat-
ing it was eminently plain, direct, and pointed. A person to whom the doctrine
was evidentl}^ unpalatable, rose in the midst of the sermon, walked with a heavy
tread the whole length of the broad aisle, and slammed the door after him with
such force as to shake the house, and make it ring with the reverberations. The
preacher meanwhile paused in his discourse, and stood perfectly calm and col-
lected. After the echoes awakened by the violent manner of shutting the door
had subsided, he drew himself up in the pulpit, and, with great deliberation and
earnestness, said — " I hope I shall have the attention of this audience; for if
thei'e is any truth in my Bible, I have it in this sermon."
Mr. Bushnell had a profound reverence for the holy Sabbath, — scrupulously
sanctified it himself, and took peculiar care that his family should do the same.
lie kept up the old New England custom of commencing the Sabbath at sunset
on Saturday, and was exact in having all the business of the week closed up
before the sun went down. On a certain occasion, a man from a neighbouring
town called on Saturday a little before sunset to buy a horse which Mr. B. was
anxious to sell. He showed the beast, and named his price, from which he did
not intend to swerve to the amount of a flirthing. The man began to play the
jockey by cheapening the horse. Very soon the sun set. Instantly Mr. B. said — •
" My Sabbath has begun — I can do no more trading till Monday morning." *' I
will take tlie horse at your own price," said the man, " and here is the money."
" No, Sir," replied Mr. B. — " You must come back on Monday morning, if you
want him." And he did come back, although, in doing so, he had to travel
twenty miles. And what Mr. B. practised with so much exactness himself, ho
earnestly inculcated upon his people. Often would he, from the pulpit, tell of
the grief he had experienced in seeing his townsmen and members of his church
pass his house on their way home from Middlebury, after the sun had refused to
behold them, "stealing," as he bluntly expressed it, " the time of tlie Sabbath."
He always, however, (and this shows his keen sense of justice,) distinctly made
a reserve for two families in the parish, who kept Sabbath night.
428 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Mr. Bushncll possessed, in a high dogrcc, the spirit of prayer. Prayer was
the habit of his soul. It was true of him, as of Dr. Payson, that he scarcely
needed to go to the throne of grace, for lie M'as always there. In prayer he
seemed wholl}' to forget the presence of men, and to be swallowed up with a sense
of the Divine presence and glory. lie had a high appreciation of the value of
social prayer. He was wont to say that the big wheel could not do any thing,
unless the little wheels were kept going, lie ever kept the prayer meetings alive,
and especially the female prayer meeting.
As a pastor, Mr. Busluu'll greatly excelled. Ilis parochial visits were regular,
and not less than three or four times a year to everj' family. lie was in the habit
of having personal conversation with each member of the household. Ilis visits
were always short, and his conversations with individuals consisted of but few
words; but they were words fitly spoken. He was particularly happy in his
intercourse with the sick and dying. His labours with such persons seemed
often to be greatly blessed, insomuch that he was sent for not seldom by persons
from the neighbouring parishes, to converse and pray with them. He ever
sought to make social visiting an occasion and a means of spiritual edification.
At such times he would say to the kdy of the house, " Put on such things as
you have on hand, and let us have the time for heavenl}'- improvement."
Mr. Bushnell had a special care for the young of the flock. He made it a point
to visit every school in the parish three times a year. He would give notice the
previous Sabbath what school he intended to visit. On these occasions, it was
expected that the school would go through the Assembly's Shorter Catechism, and
the teacher would frequently spend the whole forenoon in drilling the jiupils
upon it. Mr. B. would begin at two o'clock P. M., and catechise for an hour,
when the parents and others would come in. He would then deliver a short lec-
ture, generally on the relative duties of parents and children, or some kindred
subject, always closing with an afiectionate and earnest appeal to them to become
Christians in early life. Happy were the children who went home from such
scenes with the well known and highly prized benediction of the venerable
pastor — " Well done, my good children." The school house of a large district
stood within a stone's cast of his residence; and so much did his Christian
aftection and gentleness win upon the scholars, that even the rudest boys
would not go into his field for the ball that had accidentally gone over the
fence, without first asking his permission to do so.
This venerable servant of the Lord had a tender regard for the Divine honour.
Xo hope of gain, or honour, or present advantage of any kind, could have
tempted him to do that, which he thought, or even feared, would be offensive
to God. A memorable instance of this occurred in connection with the labours
of a certain far-famed itinerant preacher, who was holding a series of meetings
with great ajjparent success in a neighbouring congregation. Many of the
members of Mr. B.'s church desired their pastor to invite him to Cornwall.
He felt disinclined to do so. Still he was afraid of offending God by refusing.
He, therefore, took pains to attend several of the meetings, that he might hear
and judge for himself. Ha soon made up his mind that it would not be for the
interest of religion to have such meetings and such preaching in Cornwall.
Having come to this conclusion, he was prompt in the determination that the
itinerant minister, who was attracting so much attention, should not preach in
his church; and, notwithstanding the urgent entreaties of some of his leading
members, he was as immovable in it as the (ireen Mountains on their everlasting
base.
Mr. Bushncll had a hearty love to all the real disciples of Christ. He loved
them for their piety, and in proportion to it. Though strongly attached to the
doctrines and polity of his own Church, he rose far above the bigotry of sect
and party, and was willing to receive all as brethren who "were received by
JEDEDIAH BUSHXELL. 429
Christ as disciples. Once when a certain minister was aboi.t to take leave of
him, he said — " My dear brother, I have many doubts about my good estate.
1 do not have all the evidence I could wish; and I sometimes hardly know how
it is witli me. Yet I believe I have this evidence — I think I can with truth
say, — I do love the brethren."
lie was eminently a peace-maker. Ilis parishioners had unbounded confi-
dence in his judgment and integrity. lie happily adjusted a great many
family and neighbourhood difficulties. He had a quick and sharp insight into
character. He was wont to say that he could tell whether a nfan and his wife
lived happily, by seeing them ride together in the street. He had this remark-
ablr) characteristic, — that he Avould never, not even to his dearest friend,
express an opinion about a matter in dispute, after hearing but one side of it.
He once, in the beginning of his ministry, rendered a v/rong judgment in this
way; but it was the last one. Ever afterwards, he insisted on hearing both
sides before he would make up his mind.
His gift of government was great. He had wisdom to govern both himself
and others. He won both the reverence and affection of wife, children, and
servants, and all who were under his authority and control. Even the hard-
ened and the vile feared and honoured, if they did not love, him. He was exact
and systematic in his domestic arrangements, and managed his family well, with
but few words. The members of his household ever had the greatest confidence
in his counsels and instructions. He was brief and comprehensive in his family
devotions. He never read a w^hole chapter, if it was long, and his general rule for
prayer was from three to five minutes. In times of revival, he held meetings no
longer or later than at other times. To those who wanted to speak before the
meeting closed he would say, — " You must speak at the beginning of the meeting;
the people will not come again, if 3'ou keep them too long now."
In the pulpit, Mr. Bushnell could not be called an orator. His voice was clear
and shrill rather than melifluous; his action was energetic rather than graceful;
and liis style of composition had more of strength than of elegance or polish.
Still he had a ready utterance, and expressed himself not only with ease and
I)ropriety, but with energy and effect. He was a solid and zealous Gospel
teacher, who had the eloquence of simplicity, sincerity, and earnestness. "When
lie entered the sanctuary, there was an atmosphere of unaffected sanctity about
him, that made all feel that it Avas the Lord's day and house; and when he
spoke, he commanded and rewarded attention. His sermons were, in an unusual
degree, direct, pungent, and edifying
Such, as I remember him, was this eminent minivSter of Jesus Christ. I might
add many more illustrative anecdotes, but I forbear, lest I should weary both
you and your readers.
I remain, Rev. and dear Sir,
Yours in the bonds of the Gospel,
E. C. WINES.
430 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
JOTHAM SEWALL.*
1798—1850.
JoTHAM Sewall was thc son of Henry and Margaret (Titcomb) Sewall,
and was born at York, Me., January 1, 1760. His father was a plain man,
of little education, but of strong common sense: his mother, besides being
an eminently devout person, and possessed of good talents, had had better
opportunities for education, and to her was committed chiefly the religious
instruction of the family. His father's brother, Stcphon Sewall, was a
graduate of Harvard College, and was Professor of Hebrew there, from
1765 to 1785. The Professor having occasion to build a house during his
residence at Cambridge, employed his brother to do the mason work; and,
on one occasion, while he was thus occupied, he heard a Latin Oration deliv-
ered in the College, and remembered a few of the words, without knowing
their meaning. As he was building a chimney, some time after, a con-
ceited fellow came up to him, and tried to pass himself off for an educated
man ; whereupon Mr. Sewall confounded him by repeating the few Latin
words which he had learned, and challenging him to translate them. The
fellow expressed his astonishment that Mr. Sewall knew Latin — "Know
Latin — Yes, Sir," said he, "I have been to College!"
The subject of this notice spent his earliest years on his father's farm,
and learned the mason's trade at the same time. He had a distinct recol-
lection of hearing Whitefield preach, and was able, to his dying day, to
repeat some of his figures and illustrations, as well as to describe very viv-
idly his personal appearance. His early advantages for education were quite
limited, and he complained, in subsequent life, that he had made but a poor
improvement even of the advantages he enjoyed ; but whatever deficiency
there may have been in this respect, it was evidently more than made up
by the habit of accurate observation and diligent study which he formed in
maturer years.
Not far from the time that he reached his majority, he migrated to tlie
Kenncbeck, and worked at his trade, at different periods, in Bath, llalbi-
well, Augusta, and some other places. In the year 1783, his mind first
took a permanent religious direction. On hearing one of Thomas Bos-
ton's sermons read, at what was called a Deacons' meeting, in Bath, his
mind became deeply impressed, and his feelings of anxiety gradually gave
place to the joy and peace in believing. About this time, he purchased a
lot of land in a township now called Chesterville, cut down the first trees,
cleared up a portion of the land, and planted a nursery and an orchard ;
and this place he ever afterwards made his home. In the absence of a reg-
ular ministry, he, with a few others, set up religious meetings on the Sab-
bath, the conduct of which devolved chiefly upon himself. He was accus-
tomed to read Flavcl's, Erskine's, and Davics', Sermons; and sometimes
to offer a word of exhortation. At length he began to feel a desire to
preach the Gospel ; and nothing seemed to stand in the way of it, but the
want of adequate preparation. He ventured to mention the subject to the
• MS. from himself. — Life by his son.
JOTHAM SEWALL. 431
Rev. Mr. Emerson* of Georgetown, near the mouth of the Kennebeek,
and he encouraged him to go forward. There was then an Association of
ministers formed in the counties oi Lincoln and Kennebeek ; and, upon his
making application to them, they gave him a system of questions to write
upon, with a view at once to discipline his mind, and ascertain the amount
of his theological knowledge. The result was that, on the 8th of May,
1798, the Association examined him and licensed him to preach, and on
the 18th of June, 1800, the same Association ordained him as an evange-
list, the ordination Sermon being preached by the Rev. Mr, Emerson. For
a short time, he had charge of the church in the place in which he resided ;
but much the greater part of his subsequent life was spent in missionary
labour, chiefly in different parts of Maine. It is, I believe, universally
acknowledged, that he had an uncommonly useful ministry. Two or three
of the most eminent living American clergymen, either received their first
religious impressions under his preaching, or were greatly assisted by his
labours, at the commencement of the religious life. The late President
Appleton of Bowdoin College not only encouraged his labours among the
students,' but on one occasion at least, joined him on a missionary tour, and
expressed great admiration of both his fidelity and tact.
Mr. Sewall continued his labours, without much interruption or embar-
rassment, till near the close of life. He preached, for the last time, on the
15th of September, about three weeks before his death, in Fayette, some
five miles from his residence. As his custom was, he preached three times
during the day, and, on his way home, conversed and prayed with several
families. He had been, for some time, apparently sinking under the infir-
mities of age, but the disease of which he finally died was pronounced the
dropsy. On the 30th of September, he prayed in his family for the last
time ; and, when he lay down that night, he repeated the following lines: —
■*' At night, lie down prepared to liave
'• Thy sleep, thy death, — thy bed, thy grave."
In his last days he evinced the most perfect tranquillity, and finally fell
gently to sleep on the 3d of October, 1850, in the ninety-first year of his
age. His funeral Sermon was preached by the Rev. Isaac Rogers of Far-
mington.
In September 1787, he was married to Jenny "Sewall of Bath, Maine, in
whom he found a prudent, devoted, and excellent wife. They had thirteen
children, — seven sons and six daughters. Two sons, two sons-in-law, and
one grandson, are ministers of the Gospel. His youngest son is a graduate
of Bowdoin College. His wife died in the confident hope of entering into
rest, February 26, 1842, at the age of seventy-three.
FROM THE REV. GEORGE SHEPARD, D. D.
PROFESSOR IN THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, BANGOR.
Bangor, Me., November 15, 1854.
My dear Sir: At your request, I write you some of my recollections of Father
Sewall.
In October, 1827, I came with anxious steps from the Theological Seminary,
Andover, to preach as a candidate for settlement in the beautiful village of
432 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Ilallowell, situated on the banks of tlie Kennebec It was late on Saturday
evening when I arrived, and great was my relief to leayn that the responsibility
of a third service would not, in any measure, be upon me, as Father Sewall was
in town for the purpose of supplying tlie Baptist pulpit through tlie day, and
lie would preach in the " Old South " (Congregational) " church " in the even-
ing. I heard at once so much of the peculiarities and the peculiar excellencies
of this venerable man, (he was then on the border of seventy,) that there was
awakened within me a strong desire to see and hear him. ^ly remembrance
of that evening is one of high gratification, and even of admiration of his
appearance and performance. In his person, he was tall, large, massive.
Dignity, gravit}', iniprci>siveness Avere borne on his frame and features, — one
of those robust, compact, solidly-built men, whose very size and structure
indicate the natively strong and great mind. The preaching of Father Sewall,
on that evening, had, as ever, its marked traits and excellencies. It was without
a scrap of paper; with an uninterrupted flow; with clear logical order; a singu-
lar, an almost conversational, simplicity, an occasional quaintness of language;
and was pervaded by an earnest warmth, and finished by a faithful application.
Being a stranger, 1 was struck with his familiarity of phrase in prayer, —
l>ordering upon playfulness in one part, Avhere he praj'cd for that flock as then
ilestitute, and seeking for a Shepherd to guide and feed them.
Not long after my settlement in Ilallowell, the practice of holding what were
called " four days' meetings," was commenced by the churches, and on these
occasions I often met with Mr. Sewall, and saw and heard him. His preach-
ing and praying were just what was wanted, and his services were widely
sought at these times. The greatest effort in preaching and in praying I ever
witnessed from him, was on one of these occasions at Augusta. He was
requested to praj'' for the unconverted husbands of Christian wives, of whom
there was an unusually large proportion at that time in that place. He did
pray for these, as man is rarely assisted to pray. The memory of that prayer,
I doubt not, is fresh in many minds, to this day. We could hardly doubt at
the time that it was heard in Heaven. Some of this class were brought in at
that meeting. The sermon referred to, was like the man, — fervid, massive,
strong. Walking away from the church with Dr. Edward Hooker, he said to
me, " If that sermon had been preached by such a man as Dr. Spring of New
York, it would have been pronounced a great sermon." In a similar meeting
in Ilallowell, a few months after, remembering the deep impression the sermon
made at Augusta, and wishing it repeated to my own people, I asked him to
preach the same discourse. ^le attempted to do it; but only the text and outline
were the same; the filling up was feeble, compared with the other occasion — this
fact showing that his preaching was very much extemporaneous, — made up of
new, fresh matter, suggested at the time, and very admirable and effective when
he was in his best frames.
His preaching is remembered as being usually of a solid character; often deci-
dedly doctrinal; in the style of argument, discussion; early stating a logical pro-
position. My mind recurs to one of this class, — a somewhat favourite discourse
with him, and one in which his peculiar qualities strikingly appeared. The text
was Acts xvni. 9, 10. The doctrine stated in his proposition was, — the doctrine
of election encourages the use of means. He could reason very skilfulh'' often on
these knotty and disrelished points, reasoning, as he was given to do, on generally
admitted principles; using tho.se palpable common sense arguments, which, when
well put, come to the hearer with a silencing force. He greatly freshened dis-
courses of this sort with illustrations drawn from the most familiar objects and
occupations of life, from fiicts of his own observation and experience. He was
not at all squeamish in the matter of holding forth these hard doctrines, as they
are termed. But there was no excess in these parts, — no hardness or harshness
JOTIIAM SEWALL. 433
which gave needless offence. The freeness of the Gospel, the large and boundless
provision, in perfect consistency with the sovereignty, lie loved to lay open and
dwell upon. There was heart in his preaching, wliich found its way to hearts;
a tenderness which found its outlet in tears; a love which made him long for
souls in the bowels of Jesus Christ. He aimed very prominently at the convei-
sion of sinners. I remember his appeals and expostulations, as he stood before
them and toiled for tlieir good — in these 1 thought him at times unsurpassed.
His wliole person, voice, manner, gave force to the words and sentiments he uttered.
His form so imposing, his reputation for godliness ever suggested by the sight of
him, his eje benignant in its expression, but most significantly used in his more
earnest and powerful elforts, his voice in its full guttural tone, expressive of the
deep volume of feeling, — all liarmoniously combijied in, and greatly helped the
effect. As he stood in the pulpit, it was with a shght stoop; his beginning very
•■low, deliberate; uttering the less important parts on a somewhat elevated key
and with an occasional lisp; as emotion increased, deepening tlie tones; and when
feeling Avas at its height, the voice would be at its depth; and such tones of sol-
emn, swelling, sonorous power, when something alarming or awful was uttered,
I never heard elsewhere; the gesture was very simple and but little varied; often
the right hand stretched forward, the palm down, and then the hand w'ould come
down occasionally with force upon the book or the desk; the gesture comporting
with and enforcing the downright positive and emphatic order of the preaching.
There was a vein of originality about Father Sewall's preaching; this made it
taking. His way was his own, and he was always like himself, and like nobody
el.se. There was a .spice of quaintness, of dry, pat humour in his preaching; and
this, too, made it taking. He was a man who could relish, and who could give,
the genial, jocose remark. His wit and pleasantry will not soon be forgotten;
and 1 could gather any quantitj- of this sort from inmates of dwellings scattered
from the St. Croix to the Piscataqua. His "Life" which has been published,
and which is for the most part so well done, fails, many think, to do justice to
tliis aspect of his character. His politeness consisted in uttering what he thought
in the plainest and most direct phra.se. He was a great enemy of tobacco, in all
its forms. The .smell of it was very offensive to him. A gentleman at whose
house he often stopped, said that he W'as sitting in his room, smoking a cigar,
when Father Sewall entered, and broke out in a wa)' half jocose, and half in
earnest, — " You must either leave this room, or I must." It is remembered by
the women at least that he was ver\' particular about his diet, eschewing coffee
and tea, except sage tea, and all pastry; and from the age of seventy, all animal
food; he being told, on high medical authority, that if he would eat no meat, he
niiglit live till he was an hundred years old. He tried it and died at ninety. It
is the opinion of manj' who watched the effect of this change in diet, that if he
had not made it, he would have lived to the age of an hundred.
With all his Saxon squareness and homeliness of phrase, he was often a
shrewd critic in matters of taste. Though he was using the trowel, when his
more fivoured brethren were turning the classics, he would sometimes meet them
at the foot of the pulpit stairs and query at least, whether, in this or that partic-
tdar, they had not violated the canons of rhetoric. I remember to have received
from him one of the most important hints in regard to delivery that I ever
received from any source.
He was raised up for a peculiar work — that work he nobly achieved. He did
pioneer work, vastly important, but no more to be repeated in the.sc parts. He
was the instrument in tlie conversion of a great many souls. In hearing tho
recitals of religious experience, when called on councils for the formation of
churches in new regions, verj' often do we hear Father Sewall referred to by
tlin.sc who relate their experience, as the man who, under God, Avas the mstru-
ment of their conversion. This holds true in every section of our great State.
Vol. II. 55
434 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
" Wliat a wide man he is!" was once the exclamation of a little girl to her
mother, as the venerable patriarch withdrew from the room — true in another
sense than as applied to his singular breadth of frame — a wide man he was in
the reach of his Christian heart, and in his labours for the good of souls; broad
the field which under God he blessed; bright, we believe his crown in Heaven.
Yours very truly,
G. SHEPARD.
JOHN SNELLING POPKIN, D. D.=*
1798—1852.
f
John Snelling Popkin was born in Boston, on the 19th of June, [
1771. His name and ancestors came to this country from Wales, by way
of Ireland. His father served as an officer in the army during the whole
period of the Revolution, and attained to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel
in the Massachusetts regiment. He subsequently removed to Bolton, Mass.,
and afterwards to Maiden, where he resided till his death, in 1827, in the
eighty-fifth year of his age.
At the age of sis years, the son was placed under the care of the Rev.
Eliakim Willis, t then the Congregational minister of Maiden, who taught
him the rudiments of Latin ; though, at that period, his strongest inclina-
tion was for scientific studies. Si.x: years later, he was transferred to the
Latin school in Boston, where he remained till his father removed to Bolton.
While he was in the country, he was accustomed to work upon a farm ; but
his father having become satisfied that he was a boy of uncommon promise,
and having ascertained that there were funds at the disposal of the govern-
ment of College for the assistance of indigent students, resolved to give him
the benefit of a collegiate education ; and, accordingly, when he returned to
take up his residence in the neighbourhood of Boston, he replaced him in
the Latin school, where he remained till his course preparatory to entering
College was completed.
He was admitted a member of Harvard College in 1788, and, after having
distinguished himself by both his industry and his acquirements in every
branch of study, he was graduated with the highest honours of his class in
1792. His own ludicrous description of the Valedictory Address which he
delivered on that occasion is, — "I bawled like a calf for France and Liberty."
After taking his Bachelor's degree, he continued in Camliridgc the greater
part of a year and a half, receiving aid from the Hopkinton foundation.
During three months of this time, he taught a school in Woburn, and after-
wards gave private instruction in afauiil}- at Cambridge. The succeeding year
he passed at home, and in January, 1795, was appointed Greek Tutor in
the College. This office he held, discharging its duties with signal ability,
till the Commencement in July, 1798.
* Memoir by Prof. Felton.
t Eliakim Willis was a native of Dartmouth, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard Collego
in 1735; was ordained pastor of the church in Maiden, Mass., October 35, 1752; and died March
14, 1801, aged eighty-seven.
JOHN SNELLING POPKIN. 435
3Ir. Popkin having determined to enter the ministry had, in connection
with his official duties in the College, prosecuted the study of Theology
under the direction of the Rev. Professor Tappan of Cambridge and the
Rev. Dr. Eliot of Boston. He was licensed by the Boston Association,
and began to preach a short time before he resigned his office as Tutor.
After the Commencement in 1798, he supplied the pulpit several months in
Londonderry, N. H., and was subsequently engaged, for a number of weeks,
in preaching at Wenham, Mass. In January, 1799, he was preaching as a
candidate to the Federal Street church, Boston, then vacant by the death of Dr.
Belknap ; and on the 16th of July following, he was ordained as its pastor.
Notwithstanding Mr. Popkin's preaching was highly acceptable, especially
to the more cultivated part of his audience, he seems to have had little
freedom or comfort in the discharge of his ministerial duties, and very soon
became convinced that he was not in the place for which he was best quali-
fied. Accordingly, he was dismissed, at his own request, in the year 1802 ;
his parishioners consenting to the arrangement, but not desiring it. During
his residence in Boston, he continued the study of the classics with great
zeal, — especially the Greek classics, for which he had a passionate fondness
through life.
In 1804, Mr. Popkin accepted an invitation to preach to the First Parish
in Newbury, which resulted in his being installed as their minister on the
19th of September, of the same year. Here he remained, greatly beloved
by his people, and universally respected throughout the whole region, for
about eleven years.
In 1815, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by
Harvard University. The same year, the College Professorship of Greek
in the University was offered to him; and, as the duties of this office were
eminently congenial with his tastes, he determined to accept it. He accord-
ingly resigned his pastoral charge, much to the regret of his people, and
removed to Cambridge. He held this Professorship until 1826. In the
mean time, a Professorship of Greek Literature having been founded and
endowed by Mr. Samuel Eliot, Mr. Edward Everett was appointed the first
Professor on the new foundation. When Mr. Everett, five years after, was
elected to Congress, Dr. Popkin was transferred to the vacant chair. He
continued to hold the Professorship of Greek Literature seven years, and
resigned it in 1833. From this time till his death, he resided at Cambridge,
but led a very retired life, being rarely seen on any public occasion.
Dr. Popkin enjoyed good health till February, 184:4, when, during family
worship at evening, his power of articulation suddenly failed, and almost
immediately after, his consciousness. He, however, quickly emerged from
this state, but found himself, though able to form distinct ideas, yet not able
to command language in which to express them. In the following May, he
had a repetition of the attack ; but recovered from it sooner than before.
In the course of the ensuing summer, he had in a great measure regained
his usual health ; though his memory, especially for the names of persons,
remained impaired. During several of the following years, he had slight
recurrences of the attack of 1844, and he suffered not a little from irregular
sleep ; or, as he himself expressed it, he could not read but he would sleep,
and he could not sleep, but he would awake — otherwise he enjoyed com-
fortable health. In the spring of 1851, a disease of the heart began to
develope itself, which, in its progress, occasioued him great suffering. In
436 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
January, 1852, it assumed a more aggravated form, and on the 2d of March
following it terminated his life.
The following is a list of Dr. Popkin's publications : — A Discourse
delivered in Haverhill at the funeral of Jabez Kimball, A. M., 1803. A
Sermon entitled " An attempt to recommend Justice. Charity and Unanimity
in matters of religion," 1805. A Sermon preached the last time of the
assembling in the Old Meeting House in the First Parish in Newbury, 1806.
A Sermon preached at the dedication of the New Meeting House of the First
Parish in Newbury, 1806. A Sermon on the Seasons, Time, and Eternity,
1813. A Sermon preached on the day of the Annual Thanksgiving, 1813.
A Short Sermon on an afflictive occasion, 1814. A Sermon delivered on
the day of National Thanksgiving for Peace, 1815. Two Discourses
delivered on the Lord's day preceding a removal to Harvard University,
1815. Three Lectures on Liberal Education, 1836.
In 1852, a biography of Dr. Popkin, by Professor Felton, his successor
in office, was published, together with selections of his Lectures and Ser-
mons, part of which had appeared during his life time.
FROM CORNELIUS C. FELTON, LL.D.
PROFESSOR OF THE GREEK LANGUAGE IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY.
Cambridge, June 8, 1855.
My dear Sir: My personal acquaintance with Dr. Popkin commenced in 1823.
I knew him more as a teacher and Professor of Greek than as a preacher, though
he still continued to supply the pulpit, occasionally, in the College chapel, and the
neighbouring churches, for a considerable number of years after that time. He
was a man of singular modesty, and during his connection with the Federal
Street Society, w'as constantly oppressed with a nervous apprehension that he
was not qualified to discharge the responsible duties of a clergyman in such a
community. His discourses, however, according to the traditions of the society,
and as appears from his published works, were able, pious, and often eloquent;
and his parishioners by no means shared in the opinion of his qualifications
entertained by himself. In the Societ}'^ of Newbury he felt better satisfied with
the sphere of his labours and duties. The venerable Judge White, now of
Salem, then established in his profession in Newburyport. says, " Though not
within the limits of his parish, I could not hesitate a moment to join the society,
and become one of his permanent hearers. I knew him well enough to appreci-
ate the privilege I should enjoy, and the more I knew him and the longer I
enjoyed the rare privilege, the more dearly was it appreciated. His sound, intel-
lectual, impressive, and truly Christian preaching drew many occasional hearers;
and his well-known character as a man and a scholar, as well as minister, induced
a number of respectable families in Newburyport, with several professional
gentlemen, to become his parishioners." * * * * " He could not, I believe,
have found a congregation of people better suited to his habits and turn of mind,
or more disposed to a just appreciation of his worth. Assured, as he soon was,
of their entire confidence and affection, he felt no restraint among them from the
peculiarities of temperament, which he was so conscious of possessing, but
enjoyed the utmost freedom in his social and parochial visits. Dr. Popkin was
in truth a model minister, as he had been a model scholar. His pastoral duties,
in season and out of season, were performed with a most hearty fidelity. The
sick and the poor were never forgotten by him. His darling studies could not
detain him a moment from any call to them. In all his parochial intercourse
he was so kind, sympathizing, and generous, — so frank, pleasant, and apt in
his remarks and interchange of good feeling and good humour, — ^that he was a
JOHN SNELLING POPKIN. 437
most welcome guest with every class of people, and made to feel that he was
welcome not only as their minister, but as a friend and companion."
In a technical sense, Dr. Popkin was not an orator. His nervous susceptibility,
amounting at times to intellectual timidity, prevented him from doing justice in
public to the great powers which he unquestionably possessed. He always
preached from written discourses. His manner, though sometimes agitated, and
never conforming to the rules of polished delivery, was solemn, impressive, and
well suited to command the attention of an audience. His devotional exercises
Avere fervent and earnest in the highest degree. His voice was naturally rich and
powerful, and with the training to which a man, ambitious of public distinctions,
would have subjected himself, might have become the organ of most effective
oratory. In person. Dr. Popkin was tall, well-proportioned, and commanding,
llis head was large, his features massive, and his brain capacious. His walk was
upright, and his step firm and vigorous, until, as he approached the age of four-
score, his figure bowed under the load of 3^ears, and he supported his yielding
limbs by a staif. There was a singular power in the antique grandeur and
simplicity of his presence; and his conversation, notwithstanding his melancholy
temperament, was rich with racy wit, quaint expression, solid sense, and compre-
hensive scholarship; and his character in general was strongly marked with " that
simplicity, wherein," — to borrow the striking words of Thucydides — " nobleness
of nature most largely shares." His religious views were what are called
Evangelical, as distinguished from Unitarian and Rationalistic; but he never took
part in theological controversy, and refused to be called after the leader of any
particular sect. Being once asked by an anxious lady of his parish if he was a
Hopkinsian — a sectarian designation formerl}' much in vogue in the religious
circles, — he replied, " Madam, lam a Popkinsian." A short time before his
resignation, he withdrew from the College chapel, and joined the orthodox
Congregational Society. Finally he sought rest in the Episcopal Church, finding
much to approve in its quiet and moderation, and having become satisfied by the
study of the early ecclesiastical writers tliat liturgies were used by the primitive
Christians. Here, as elsewhere, his singleness of heart, integrity of life, consist-
ent piety, modesty, and self-distrust, were daily exhibited. The confessions of
sin in the ofiBces of the Church express deep and earnest humility; but he was
accustomed to say, "I would fain have them more and deeper."
The vigour of his mind and the range of his acquirements are sufficiently
exhibited in his published works. His sermons are models of excellence, both in
matter and manner. In soundness of thought, rich quaintness of expression,
forcible structure of sentences, and general mastery of style, they remind us
of the writings of the old English Divines. The sermon on the death of Wash-
ington contains passages of solemn eloquence, not surpassed in any of the public
discourses which that event called forth. The sermon on the memory of the
righteous, delivered the following year, on the return of the anniversary, is equally
admirable, and both deserve a permanent place in the pulpit literature of the
country ; though they were prepared and delivered in the ordinary discharge of
his duty as pastor of the Federal Street Society. More elaborate performances
are the sermon on justice, charity, and unanimity, — a discourse which displays,
with great power, his deepest convictions and most characteristic opinions ; and the
sermon entitled "Thanksgiving for Peace" — a most able and eloquent exposition
of the horrors of war, as a scourge to the victors as well as to the vanquished,
and of the blessings of peace. There are few things in the pulpit eloquence of
America, which, in the various excellencies of style, thought, and illustration are
superior, or equal to these discourses of Dr. Popkin.
Dr. Popkin was never married. In his youth and early manhood he is said to
have been not deficient in a taste for social life, but many amusing stories used
to be told of his shyness in the presence of women, and of his aversion to the
438 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
thought of marriage. It was jokingly asserted, that the only fault he ever found
with his favourite language, the Greek, was that it had a dual number. Yet
there was a tradition long current in College, that, in the circle which Mr.
Popkin occasionally frequented in his youth, there was an amiable and accom-
plished person to whose attractions he was not insensible. But whatever of a
feeling warmer than friendship may have found a place in his breast, it probably
remained a secret to all but himself, and was only a matter of inference with the
spectators. Half a century afterwards, on the death of an estimable and venera-
ble lady. Dr. Popkin, contrary to the long, fixed habits of his life, attended her
funeral, and follQwed her in his carriage to the grave. Perhaps some lingering
memory of an early dream of romance, untold at the time, but unforgotten
afterwards, may still have dwelt in that lonely heart.
I have thus given you a sketch of Dr. John S. Popkin, partly from my own
knowledge of the man, and partly from the accounts of others. If you think it
does any justice to his excellent character, and that it is suitable to the purpose
for which you desired it, I shall be gratified.
I am, dear Sir, with, very high regard,
Your friend,
C C. FELTON.
LEONARD WOODS, D. D.^
1798—1854.
Leonard Woods was the son of Samuel and Abigail Woods, vrho were
among the early inhabitants of Princeton. Mass. Both of them were per-
sons of exemplary piety and of more than ordinary intellect. His father,
though with small opportunity for early culture, had a taste for metaphy-
sical and theological investigation, and made himself familiar with the works
of Locke, Edwards, and many of the Puritan Divines.
He was born on the 19th of June, 1774, and was baptized the same day.
His earliest education was conducted chiefly by his father and an elder
sister. He early discovered a fondness for books ; and when he was not
more than six or seven years old, he would copy examples in arithmetic on
a piece of birch bark, as he heard them given to a class of large boys, and
was rarely, if ever, behind them in giving the correct answer.
His parents designed originally that he should remain at home on the
farm ; but from the age of ten, he manifested a strong desire for a collegiate
education, with a view to becoming a minister. On account of a severe
illness which, for two years, disqualified him for much labour, his father
consented to his commencing preparation for College, under the instruction
of the parish minister ; though he told him distinctly that he should not be
able to incur the expense of his education. His mother, however, favoured
his wishes, and promised to render him every assistance in her power. The
^nly regular instruction he received was at the Leicester Academy, where,
for three months, he was a pupil of the late Professor Ebenezer Adams, t
* MS. from hinaself.
t Ebenezer Adams was born in New Ipswieb. N. H., October 2, 1765; was graduated ai
Dartmouth College in 1791 ; was first an assistant teacher, and afterwards Principal, of the
Academy at Leicester, Mass., where he continued fifteen years; went to Portland in a similai
capacity in 1801, where he made a profession of religion, connecting himself with Dr. Payson I
LEONARD WOODS. 439
of Dartmouth College. After about three years from the time that he
began his studies, he became, in 1792. a member of the Freshman class in
Harvard College. During the latter part of his collegiate course, he became
deeply interested in the philosophical works of Dr. Priestly, and, for a time,
looked with much favour on his speculations in favour of materialism. He
was graduated in 1796 with the highest honour, and delivered an oration,
which was received with great applause ; and when he took his second
degree, three years later, he was appointed to deliver the Master's oration.
Both these productions were published.
For eight months after he left College, Mr. "Woods was engaged as a
teacher at Medford ; and, during this time, his mind and his heart became fixed
in the great principles of religion, and he was encouraged now to carry out
his youthful purpose of being a minister of the Gospel. He made a public
profession of his faith and united with Dr. Osgood's church in Medford, in
1797. In the autumn of the same year, he studied Theology three months,
under the direction of the Rev. Dr. Charles Backus, of Somers, Conn., in
company with his friend, Mr. John H. Church, afterwards the Rev. Dr.
Church of Pelham, N. H. The next winter he continued his studies at home,
confining himself chiefly to the Bible and Brown's System of Divinity. In
the spring of 1798, he was licensed to preach by the Cambridge Association,
and, in November of the same year, was ordained pastor of the church in
Newbury, from which Dr. Tappan had been removed to become a Professor
in Harvard College. The ordination sermon was preached by the Rev. Dr.
Osgood of Medford.
When the Theological Seminary at Andover was established in 1808,
Mr. Woods, though still a young man, was appointed to the Professorship of
Theology. He accepted the appointment, and continued in the place thirty-
eight years. During this time, besides discharging the appropriate duties of
a Professor, he had an important agency in the establishment of various
benevolent institutions, particularly the American Tract Society, the Amer-
ican Education Society, the Temperance Society, the American Board of
Commissioners for Foreign Missions, &c. In the last mentioned Board, he
served as a member of the Prudential Committee for about twenty-five
years. He was also engaged in several important theological controversies,
in all of which he manifested great good temper, as well as great skill and
ability.
He received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Dartmouth College,
and also from the College of New Jersey, in 1810.
In 1846, he retired from his Professorship ; and, from that time, was
engaged, for several years, in preparing for the press his Theological Lec-
tures, and a portion of his miscellaneous writings. These were published
in five volumes, octavo, in 1849 and 1850, and have gained a wide circula-
church ; after about a year and a half, accepted a Professorship of Mathematics in Phillips
Academy, Exeter; in 1809 became Professor of Languages in Dartmouth College, and in 1811
was transferred to the department of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy, which he filled until
lH'i'i, when he resigned, and ceased from active labour in the College, though he still retained
the title of Professor Emeritus. He then occupied himself occasionally in the duties of a
magistrate, in study and social intercourse, and in the care of the Academy at Plainficld, N. H.,
where he was President and Treasurer of the Corporation. He also presided over the New
JIampshire Bible Society, until the time of his death, and took a deep and active interest in
that and other kindred insiitutions. He died of a disease of the heart, August 15, IS-il. He
possessed a sound, excellent judgment, high intelligence, great firmness, calmness, and dignitj',
with a truly philanthropic and Christian spirit — he was, in all respects, a noble specimen of a
man.
440 TKINITAPJAN CONGREGATIONAL.
tlon aud great popularity. During the last four years of his life, he was
occupied iu writing the History of the Theological Seminary, with which he
had been so long connected. It was left in an unfinished state to be com-
pleted by his son.
During the winter of 185o-54, his health was unusually good; and he
laboured with the vigour and alacrity of a young man. On the 8th of July,
185-i, from over exertion in extreme heat, he brought on a complaint with
which he had been troubled many years befoi'e, — an affection of the heart.
He, however, continued to take gentle exercise till the '2~th, when the disease
took a more aggravated form. From that time he experienced the most in-
tense suffering, but he bore it in the spirit of serene and joyful trust, A few
hours before his death, it was remarked to him — " You are almost home ;" and
his answer was, — " Blessed home." He died on the night of the 24th of Au-
gust, in his eighty-first year. His funeral was attended in the chapel of the
Theological Seminary on the 28th ; and a Sermon preached by Prof. Law-
rence of the Theological Seminary at East Windsor, which was published.
The following is a list of Dr. Woods' publications : — Envy wishes, then
believes : An Oration delivered at Commencement, Harvard University,
Cambridge, 1796. Two Sermons on Profane Swearing, delivered on the
day of the Annual Fast, 1709. A Contrast between the effects of Religion
and the effects of Atheism: An Oration delivered at Commencement, Har-
vard University, 1799. A Discourse on Sacred Music, delivered before the
Essex Musical Association, 1804. A Discourse at the funeral of Mrs.
Thankful Church, 1806. Artillery Election Sermon, 1808. A Sermon
at the ordination of Messrs. Newell, Judson, Hall, Nott, and Rice, as mis-
sionaries to the East, 1812. A Sermon on the death of Samuel Abbot,
Esq., 1812. A Sermon before the Massachusetts Missionary Society,
1812. A Sermon at the ordination of John W. Ellingwood, 1812. A
Sermon in remembrance of Mrs. Harriet Newell, 1814. A Sermon at the
ordination of Joel Hawes, 1818. A Sermon at the funeral of the Rev.
Samuel Spring, D. D., 1819. A Sermon at the installation of the Rev.
Warren Fay, 1820. Letters to Unitarians, 1820. A Reply to Dr. Ware's
Letters to Trinitarians and Calvinists, 1821. A Sermon at the ordination
of B. B. Wisner, 1821. A Sermon occasioned by the death of the Rev.
Samuel Worcester, D. D., 1821. A Sermon at the ordination of the Rev.
Alva Woods, 1821. A Sermon at the ordination of Thomas M. Smith, 1822
Remarks on Dr. Ware's Answer, 1822. Course of Study in Christian
Theology in the Theological Seminary, Andover, 1822. A Sermon before
the Convention of Congregational ministers in Massachusetts, 1823. A
Lecture on Quotations, 1824. A Sermon at the ordination of Benjamin
Woodbury,* 1824. A Sermon on the nature and influence of Faith, 1826.
A Sermon occasioned by the death of Moses Brown, Esq., 1827. Lectures
on the inspiration of the Scriptures, 1809. Fatal Hinderance to Prayer: A
Sermon in the National Preacher, 1830. The province of Reason in matters
of Religion : A Sermon preached in Murray Street church, New York, 1830.
Letters to the Rev. Nathaniel W. Taylor, D. D., 1830. A Sermon at the
installation of the Rev. Nathaniel Hewitt, D. ])., 1830. A Sermon at the
installation of the Rev. T. M. Smith, 1831. A Sermon on the death of
Jeremiah Evarts, Esq., 1831. A Sermon before tlie American Board of
* Bknjamiv Woodbury wag graduated at Dartmoutli College in 1817; was ordained pastor
of the church in Falmouth, Mass., June !>, 1824 ; resigned his charge in 1833 ; aud died in 1845.
LEONARD TTOODS. 441
Foreign Missions, 1831. A Sermon at the ordination of Leonard Woods,
Jr., 1833. A Sermon at the funeral of the llev. Ebenezer Porter, D. D.,
1834. A Sermon on the death of Lyman, Munson, and others, 1835. A
Sermon at the ordination of Daniel Bates Woods, 1839. A Sermon at the
funeral of the Rev. John H. Church, D. D., 1840. An Examination of
the doctrine of Perfection as held by the Rev. Asa Mahan and others, 18-41.
Reply to Mr. Mahan on the doctrine of Perfection, 1841. Lectures on
Church (xovernment, containing objections to the Episcopal scheme, 1843.
Lectures on Swedenborgianism, 1846. A Sermon at the funeral of Mrs.
Phebe Farrar, 1848. Theology of the Puritans, 1851.
Besides the above. Dr. Woods wrote several Tracts for the Doctrinal
Tract Society, and was a liberal contributor to some of the most prominent
religious periodicals of his day ; and several of these articles may be rec-
koned among the ablest and most elaborate of all his productions. 3Iany
of these, together with a considerable number of Sermons preached in the
chapel of the Theological Seminary at Andover, and never before published,
are included in his Works already referred to.
He was married on the 8th of October, 1799, to Abigail, daughter of the
Rev. Joseph Wheeler.* They had ten children, — four sons and six daugh-
ters. Three of the sons were graduated at College, one of whom is the
Rev. Dr. Leonard Woods, President of Bowdoin College. Four of the
daughters were married to clergymen. Mrs. Woods, a lady of distinguished
excellence, died in February, 1846. Dr. Woods was afterwards married to
the widow of Dr. Ansel Ives of New York, who survived him.
FROM THE REV. EDWARD A. LAWRENCE, D. D.,
PROFESSOR IN THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY AT EAST WINDSOR.
Theological Seminary, East Windsor Hill, June 26, 1856.
Rev. and dear Sir: A compliance with 3rour request brings into fresh view
the traits of a character which I always contemplate with veneration, and to
Avhich I love to pay the tribute of respect and aS'ection.
My acquaintance with Dr. Woods commenced in the autumn of 1835, when I
entered the Theological Seminary at Andover. From that time, my relations to
him gave me the best opportunities for a thorough acquaintance. Such intimacy,
however, was not necessary in order to know him well, for his simplicity and
transparency gave into the hand of even a stranger, the key to his character.
The personal bearing of Dr. Woods was manly and commanding. He was
tall, six feet and two inches, and quite erect even at the age of fourscore. Mus-
cular flexibility freed him from those sharp, angular movements common to men
of a nervous temperament, and of a greater muscular tension. This gave a
natural ease and dignity to his demeanour, which were improved by self-culture.
There was a compass of manner, ranging from gay to grave, which enabled him
with equal facility to discuss a metaphj-sical question in a circle of acute theolo-
gians, or take a little child upon his knee, and amuse it by imitating the " Whip-
poor-will," or singing " The pretty, pretty lark."
Between the external appearance of Dr. Woods and the characteristics of his
mind, there was a noticeable harmony. His humour, quiet and chaste, indulged
in early life more than in later years, was like the aroma from the alabaster box
of ointment.
Vol. II
442 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
His mental discipline was the result of patient, persevering, and systematic
effort, and his attainments were made, not by the eccentric sallies of genius, but
by steadily pressing his inquiries farther and forther into the domain of science.
The structure of his mind, thus built up, was solid rather than showy, and its
beaut}- was the result of the just balance of its powers, ai; its force was of the
wise direction and unity of his ellbrts.
He had a fondness for metaphysical studies, and qualiiications, natural and
acquired, for distinguished success in them. His clear perceptions and power of
discrimination, his ability to discover the causes and relations of things, to meet
and surmount difficulties, to trace analogies, weigh arguments, and estimate the
value of logical results, gave him peculiar advantages in mental and moral
science. With about the same ease, he could work in the mines or the mint of
truth, bring up pearls from the deep, or polish them for use. While he highly
honoured humau reason, he held with Pascal that its last step dimly discloses
the existence of innumerable things which transcend its powers, either of com-
prehension or of full discovery. He rejoiced in whatever of research extended
the boundaries of science; but he felt also that many had made shipwreck of
faith by self-confident adventures on the sea of speculation, beyond the sound-
ings of reason and the chart and compass of Revelation. He lamented the
spread of the modern German and French speculative philosophy, because he
perceived its tendency to undermine the Christian foith. Yet his confidence in
the power of truth made him hopeful in respect to final results. " The Omnipo-
tence of truth," he once said, "coming from the Omnipotence of the God of truth,
will put an end to all these philosophical heresies, and philosophical nonsenses."
Every where cautious, he was especially so in settling first principles, for, if
these were false, he knew that the}' would necessitate wrong conclusions. Facts,
among which he gave the highest place to those of Revelation, were the starting
point in his philosoph}-. From these, by a careful induction, he came to general
laws. From laws he was led to a law-giver, and from the law-giver to a univer-
sal government. That there is a God is evident from his actions. Agency
proves an agent. What God is, is also plain from what He does. His deeds are
infallible exponents of his will and character. This was Dr. Woods' philosophy.
He knew that it had been discredited b}- Kant, Fichte, and others of the modern
school of Idealism and boasted enlightenment. But he maintained it none the
less steadfastlj^ believing that in the sanction given it by inspired men, and by
the approval of ages, it possessed the double seal of certainty.
These mental qualities were happily illustrated in Dr. AVoods' methods of
instruction as Professor of Christian Tlicology. He administered no stimulants
but what the love of truth and the delight of increasing knowledge would fur-
nish. He led his i)upils step by step from what is simple and easj^ to what is
complex and difficult. If they were inclined to rest on a false and dangerous
principle, he emplo3ed the magnet of the Socratic method to draw them from it
to a safe one. When they lost themselves in the labyrinths of metaph^^sical
speculation, he would go in after them and patiently guide them out into some
fruitful field of religious knowledge. There was in his manner of putting ques-
tions a peculiar power of extricating an honest mind from an embarrassing diffi-
culty. He was once present at an Association where one of his pupils, a j'oung
man of more than usual promise, was examined for license. One perplexing
question after another came up, until tlie candidate became confused and the minis-
ters nearly as much so. " Now, gentlemen," said the young man, " if Dr. AVoods
could only ask me one or two questions, the whole thing would be cleared up."
Although Dr. Woods had the reputation of a skilful polemic, he had a natural
disinclination to controversy, lie was a lover of peace, and regarded the power
of the Gospel as in the points of agreement among evangelical men, and not in
those on which they differed. He was also sensible of the evils incident even to
serious discussion. " I have seen," he said, " that it has so often injured the
LEONARD W00D3. 443
beauty of men's characters and cooled the ardour of their piety, * * * that
I have earnestly endeavoured to avoid the danger. But when the foundations
seemed shaken, he felt it an imperative duty to contend earnestly for what he
believed to be the faith once delivered to the saints. Then he forgot ease, com-
fort, and even danger, and sought only that the controversy might be conducted
in a kind and Christian spirit to a right issue. " If the war must come," he
remarked in a time portending theological conflict, "let it be carried on with
manliness and courage, with fairness and strength of argument, not with carnal
weapons, but with the sword of the Spirit, aiming to overcome and destroy
error and sin, and save the souls of men."
As a preacher. Dr. Woods was scriptural and instructive. The plan of his
sermons was generally simple, and the arrangement of his thoughts so natural
and lucid that the most uncultivated of his hearers, if attentive, could follow
him with ease. Yet he was often argumentative and taxed reason to her utmost,
though he never submitted the mysteries of godliness to her arbitration. He
was pre-eminently a Bible preacher, bringing out from the Divine word Christ as
the centre idea and life of Christianity. Hence, while his preaching was in the
highest sense rational, it was not rationalistic but distinctively Christian.
" Wq want men at this day," he once wrote me, " who have clear and deep views
of the doctrines of Revelation, and of the duties and graces of Christianity;
men who cleave to the Bible, who avoid unscriptural speculations and oflensive
phrases, who are as firm and as pliable as Paul."
The style of Dr. AYoods as a writer, is marked by great perspicuity and
purity. Rigidly Anglo Saxon and free from foreign idioms, rhetorical cataracts
and chasms, it has a steady onward movement, like a sea-worthy ship on the
ocean of thought, with gems and treasures from the rich mines of truth. Diffuse
without being wearisome, it has that transparency which enables his readers not
only to look into, but through the subjects he treats.
In all these respects, as a writer, preacher, polemic, and teacher of Theolog}',
Dr. Woods enjoyed a deservedly high reputation. But he was something more
and better than these. It is for his qualities as a man, a neighbour, a friend, and
a Christian, that he will be cherished in most grateful and affectionate remem-
brance. The generous sentiments of his open, manly character, his ardent love
of nature, and dislike of every thing artificial and conventional, together with
the constant outflow of kindly feeling towards all, not onl}^ preserved him
from the unsocial and withering influences which polemics and metaphysics too
often exert, but infused into them genial and softening elements, which took
away their dryness and hardness, and gave them a benign mission of mercy.
The intimacies of college life were cherished to the last, and held him more
and more firmly in their sweet bonds. The exhaustless humanities of his
nature, mellowed and ripened with j-ears, and his delight in the society of long-
tried friends increased as their number diminished. Of one of these, when called
to preach at his funeral, he said, " Whenever any burden pressed heavily upon
me, and I felt myself ready to sink, a desire to see my brother Church always
sprang up in my heart; and a visit from him never failed to encourage and
strengthen me." The warmth of his aftections gave a hue, not merely to his
friendships, but to all his intercourse in society. It breathed in his letters of
condolence to the afflicted; in his sympathy with the suffering, and his plans of
Christian benevolence.
His capacious social nature was developed by being brought into all the rela-
tions of life, and by suffering bereavement in them all. Shortly after the death
of his mother, he says, "When I go to Princeton, it will be a gloomy place to
me. I shall go away to my rock and my bower, and shall weep at the remem-
brance of departed parents, and da3's and years that are past." Later, when
suffering from a still severer affliction, he exclaimed, " 0 my poor, stricken heart,
I cannot bear up under my thoughts! Away I must go to the blessed world
444 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
where the object of my love shines in perfect beauty, and glorifies God with a
heavenly activity and fulness of joy."
In all his social sympathies, his heart was fresh and young to the last. It heanicd
from his countenance in the glow of his cordial greetings, or came out in the infi-
nitesimal expressions of feeling which affection only can cither prompt or interpret.
The Christian character of Dr. AVoods was from the first decided, and his
improvement steady and marked. On taking his second degree from his Alma
Mater, he pronounced an oration of the most serious kind, " resembling," says one
of his classmates, " a sermon more than any performance I remember to have heard
on any similar occasion." His mind and heart took strong hold of all the fund-
amental doctrines of the Gospel. At his ordination, in the fulness of his faitli,
he had prepared an unusually long Confession, and while reading it, Dr. Osgood
of Medford, who, in those days of undeveloped Unitarianism in New England,
held to the proverb — " In medio tutissimus ibis," e.xclaimed, " Ah, you believe
ten times as much as you will when you are as old as 1 am."
The Theolog}^ of Dr. Woods was not a dead and dry dogma, but a system of
living truths, verified by his experience and wrought into the texture of his ciiarac-
ter. Nor was it a novelty, tracing its pedigree to the progenitor of some family of
dull or dazzling speculators. He claimed to be in the line of theological succession
from Christ, through Edwards, Calvin, Augustine, and the Apostles. His creed
was his Christianity. It was old, but he believed not worn out, nor the less true
for its age. He could no more change it than the facts of his religious history.
His conceptions of the holiness and sovereignty of God had their counterpart
in his deep self-abasement and desire to be changed into his image. His ideas of
moral agency strengthened his sense of personal responsibility, and his doctrine of
Divine eflficienc}' deepened his feeling of dependance, and made him peculiarly a
man of prayer. His trust in Providence and in the efficacy of prayer, are well
illustrated by an incident which occurred in connection with the ordination of Dr.
Hawes at Hartford. Dr. Woods was to preach the sermon. It was in the spring
of the year, and he was delayed by the bad travelling. "When he readied the
Connecticut, the bridge had been carried away by the freshet, and the ice made
passing dangerous. There was no time to lose. He walked to the edge of the
river and ascertained that the boatman would attempt to get him across. Then
he went to an old house which stood near, knocked at the door and asked the
privilege of a retired room for a short time. There he kneeled and sought direc-
tion from God concerning his duty, then committed to the Divine care his wife,
his children, and himself, — returned to the river, crossed in safety, and arrived
just in season for the service he had engaged to perform.
The views set forth in his works, revised and i)ublished by himself, he held to
the close of life. '* No change," said he in his last sickness, to one who ques-
tioned him on that point. After a moment's pause, he added with a pleasant
smile, " Yes, there is a change. Those doctrines appear to me more truthful, Tuore
weighty, more precious, than ever."
As Christ was the beginning, the middle and tlie end of his Theology, so was
He also of his religious experience. Of II im he learned that meekness and humil-
ity, which were so distinguished an ornament of iiis character and life, and that
■hilarity also which made him so forgetful of injuries, and in his guileless confi-
dence in others, almost of that doctrine of depravity which he believed so firmly,
nnd which, in regard to himself he felt so dceiily. He repudiated all self-
worthiness, and trusted solely to the mercy of God, through the merits of the
Iledeemer. On this rock he rested with immovable firmness. This was his
unfailing support in the trials of life, and the ground of final triumph in his
peaceful death. With esteem and affection,
I am, dear Sir, most sincerely yours,
E. A. LAWRENCE.
JOHN HUBBARD CHURCH. 445
JOHN HUBBARD CHURCH, D. D.
1798—1840.
FROM THE REV. LEONARD WOODS, D. D.
Andover, January 24, 18-52.
My dear brother : I cheerfully comply with your request for a brief narra-
tive of the life of my beloved friend Dr. John Hubbard Church, and
the more so, as I have reason to believe that I am the only person now liv-
ing, who possesses all the information that you desire.
He was born in Rutland, Mass., March 17, 1772. His parents were
Stephen and Esther Church. His fiither, who was a carpenter, served seven
years in the Revolutionary war, and died July 11, 1786. From that time
his son John H. lived with his grandfather, Paul Moore, till he commenced
his studies preparatory to College. In his education his grandparents
afforded him important aid ; and he always remembered them with grati-
tude and love. His early years were spent in the common business of agri-
culture.
My acquaintance with Mr. Church commenced in April, 1792, at Leices-
ter Academy, which was then under the instruction of the late Ebenezer
Adams, L. L. D., Professor in Dartmouth College. After I left in June,
Mr. Church remained one year, and entered Harvard College in July, 1793,
where we lived together in happy friendship for three year.*?. From that
time, there was a growing intimacy between us as long as he lived.
During his last year at College, he taught a school in the winter at Chat-
ham, Mass. His visible character and deportment had always been remark-
ably sober, unexceptionable, and amiable. But, at that time, he was led to
look into his own heart, and to compare his affections and motives with the
perfect law of God. About the same time, I think, he read Doddridge's
Rise and Progress, Boston's Fourfold State, and Brainerd's Life. After
being, for a season, deeply convinced of his sinful and ruined state, he
began to exhibit evidence of a spiritual change, and he gradually, after
much self-scrutiny, and with fear and trembling, admitted the pleasing
thought that he had been born again. He now began a new life. From
that happy season, it was his predominant endeavour to follow Christ and
promote the interest of his redeemed Kingdom.
Mr. Church pursued his theological studies under the direction of Dr.
Charles Backus of Somers. We went together to that place in August,
1797, immediately after his graduation, where he remained till the next
spring. He was licensed to preach by the Association of Tolland County,
to which Dr. Backus belonged. He began to preach as a candidate for the
ministry at Pelham, New Hampshire, in May, 1798, and was ordained there,
among a united and affectionate people, October 31st of the same year.
The Sermon on the occasion was preached by Dr. Backus on the text —
"Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?" In May, 1799, he was married
to Miss Thankful Watson of Rutland, Mass. By this marriage he had two
children, — a daughter who is still living, and a son who died in infancy. His
wife died in April, 1806. In May, 1807, he was married to Miss Hannah
Farnham of Newburyport, l)y whom he IkhI two dauLrbters, one of them
446 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
now living in Pelham, N. H., and the other in Pittsburgh, Penn. He
received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Williams College in 1823.
His labours in the ministry were attended with manifest tokens of the
Divine favour, and were the means of introducing into the church many
intelligent and faithful Christians, and of introducing a number of young
men into the office of Christian pastors and missionaries. It was his ear-
nest endeavour to build up the church " with gold, silver and precious
stones ;" to guard against error and delusion, and to promote a fervent, active,
scriptural piety, — which was so uniformly exemplified in his own conduct.
The general aspect of his religious life resembled that of David Brainerd.
His eyes were opened to see his inward corruption. He felt the power of
indwelling sin. He took a low place before God. He esteemed others bet-
ter than himself. He relied nut upon his own strength or goodness, but
upon the free and abounding grace of Christ. Very frequently, especially
during the first years of his ministry, he had serious doubts of his own
piety. But in times of the greatest darkness, he ceased not to admire the
excellence of Christ and to glory in his cross. As he went forward in the
duties of a Christian and the labours of a minister, his religious character
became more mature, and the habitual state of his mind more peaceful and
joyous. His most abiding joy, however, arose, not from what he saw in
himself, but from his clear apprehension of the "glory of God in the face
of Jesus Christ." This was the characteristic of his religion.
The Theology of the Bible, as it lay in the mind of Dr. Church, was
rather experimental, practical, and devout, than speculative. His religious
opinions were very nearly conformed to those of Calvin, Owen, Scott, Bos-
ton, Shepard, and others of congenial views. He had a great dislike to
novelties in religion. Among the last books he read were Owen on the
glory of Christ, Goode's Better Covenant, Stevenson on the Offices of Christ,
and Dickinson's Letters. I have not known any man who was more familiar
with the Bible than he was, or in whom the word of God dwelt more richly,
or whose habits of thinking and feeling seemed to me more fully in agree-
ment with the spirit of inspiration.
I never knew any one who excelled Dr. Church in Christian meekness
and gentleness, or in the exercise of disinterested kindness and love, or in
the chastened fervour of a devout spirit. Whenever I was called in provi-
dence to consider important questions of duty, or to endure trials and afflic-
tions, Dr. Church was the friend and brother in whose conversation and
prayers I found assistance and comfort. And times without number since
his decease, my feelings have impelled me to say, How precious would be
such an interview with that dear brother, as I used to enjoy during his life !
He was indeed an uncommonly excellent and lovely man. But his excel-
lence and loveliness could not be adequately known except to those who
were very intimately united with him in Christian friendsliip.
Dr. Church filled various important offices. During the early years of
the American Tract Society, he was united with Dr. Justin Edwards and
myself as its Publishing Committee. I'rom 1826 to his decease, he was a
Trustee of Phillips Academy and the Theological Seminary in Andover.
For a still longer period, he was a Trustee of Dartmouth College. He was
for twenty years a member of the American Board of Commissioners for
Foreign Missions. He was a Director, and afterwards President, of the
New Hampshire Bible Society. He was also President of the New Haiiip-
JOHN HUBBARD CHURCH. 447
shire Missionary Society. And from 1809, when the General Association
of that State was organized, he was the Scribe till his death.
Dr. Church was a Congregational minister, and he loved ministers and
churches of that denomination. But his affection was not limited to any
branch of the Christian Church. He was specially attached to Presbyterian
ministers ; and, during the latter years of his life, without separating from
his own denomination, he became a member of a Presbytery in his neigh-
bourhood.
I visited Dr. Church during his last sickness, and found him in the enjoy-
ment of the utmost peace of mind in the near prospect of death. The
particulars of that interview are detailed in the sermon which I preached at
his funeral on the 12th of June, 1840, and which has been given to the public.
The following is a list of Dr. Church's publications : — Two Sermons
delivered at Pelham the Sabbath after his ordination, 1798. The substance
of a Discourse delivered at the funeral of Mrs. Clarissa Butler, 1803. A
Sermon on occasion of the death of Benjamin Baldwin, 1804. An Address
to parents, 1804. A Sermon at the funeral of Mrs. Mehitabel Atwood,
1805. An Oration on the Fourth of July, 1805. Two Discourses on Bap-
tism, 1805. A Discourse delivered at Haverhill and Pelham, on a day of
Fasting and Prayer, 1805. The Jewish polity completely overturned, and
the Sceptre reserved for Jesus Christ : A Discourse delivered at Newbury-
port, 1809. A Discourse at the interment of Mr. Joshua Atwood, 1809.
A Sermon preached at Andover, Mass., on the Annual Fast, entitled "The
first settlement of New England," 1810. A Sermon at the funeral of the
llev. Elihu Thayer, D. D., 1812. A Sermon on the day of the National
Fast, 1812. New Hampshire Election Sermon, 1813. A Sermon at the
dedication of a meeting house in Goffstown, N. H., 1816. A Sermon
before the Female Heathen School of Dracut, Mass., 1818. A Sermon at
the installation of the Rev. Abraham Wheeler in Candia, N. H., 1819. A
Discourse at the eighth annual meeting of the New England Tract Society,
1822. A Discourse at the funeral of Mrs. Lucy W. Tenney, 1822. A
Sermon at the formation of the First Congregational church in Lowell,
1826. A Sermon at the funeral of the PtevT Paul Litchfield,* 1827. The
Moral condition of all men: Two Sermons in the National Preacher, 1828.
A Sermon before the Pastoral Association of Massachusetts, 1829. The
unsearchable riches of Christ : A Sermon in the National Preacher, 1838.
Yours with much aflection,
LEONARD WOODS.
FROM THE REV. NATHAN LORD, D. D.,
PRESIDENT OF DARTMOUTH COLLEGE.
Dartmouth College, April 26, 1849.
My dear Sir: I first knew Dr. Church Mhen I was a student at Andover. He
was always present at the Anniversaries of the Seminary, and visited it fre-
quently, in a more private way, as a friend and counsellor. Two or three times
a year he preached to the village congregation, which was then attended by the
students.
I remember that the young men, at that period, looked up to him as one of
the truly venerable for -wisdom, integrity, and piety. He was known to be a
• Paul Litchfield was born at .icituate, Mass., March 12, 1752; was graduated at Har-
vard College in 1775; was ordained pastor of the church in Carlisle, Mass., November 7, 1781;
and died November 7, 1827, in his seventy-sixth year.
448 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Calvinist of the old New England school, and was considered as an able and
efficient defender of those views of Christian doctrine. We regarded him as a
man of great faith and professional eugagedness, better versed in doctrinal and
practical than metaphysical Tlieology, inclined to action rather than speculation,
more of a pastor than of a student, yet well educated, comprehensive, and libe-
ral. He was understood to be a sound adviser, and we knew him to be an
instructive, affectionate, and earnest preacher. We loved to see him about the
halls and to hear him in the pulpit. Dr. Spring, Dr. Dana, and himself, were
then more frequently at Andover than other members of the Corporation; and
when they prayed, as they always did, with great simplicity and fervour for
"the School of the Propliets," we seemed to have assurance of the Divine pro-
tection and blessing. Such a triple wall of sanctified philosophy, literature, and
good sense, was thought impregnable.
After I became a pastor, I resided, for twelve years, in the same State with
him, and within twenty miles of his parish. I was intimately connected with
him during that time. And what minister of New Hampshire was not ? For
he was every where, the adviser of churches, the counsellor of young pastors,
the moderator of Councils, the preacher at ordinations, the presiding genius of
the General Association, the moving spring of most of the benevolent Societies,
a Trustee of the College, and conspicuous in every enterprise for the advance-
ment of learning and religion. In all these relations he was the same honest,
true minded, and devout man, — revered for his wisdom, loved for his goodness,
and feared for his justice. He exemplified remarkably what was rare, in that
time, — the union of a conservative and active spirit. He was active from the
impulse of a true Christian zeal, and conservative from his profound and unflinch-
ing attachment to the Puritanism of New England.
In 1821, I became associated with Dr. Church as a Trustee of the College.
He retained that office after my accession to the Presidency, till his decease.
He was always present at the meetings of the Board from the opening to the
close. I remember well his simplicity and kindness, his intelligence and judg
ment, his firmness and courage, his scrupulous regard for truth, and the honesty
and fidelity witli which he performed every trust. He never mistook his object,
and never had occasion to stand corrected. He was severely conscientious in his
guardianship. lie thought with Edwards that a College ought to be religious,
and that it ceased to be a school of sound learning, when it ceased to be a school
of Christ. His influence Avas always exerted to make science subservient to
religion, and it was never weakened by imbecility in reasoning, or inconstancy
in action.
Dr. Churcli was eminently primitive in his tastes and studies, and in all his
personal and official intercourse. He accepted no innovations in manners, poli-
tics, morals, or religion. He believed that nothing could be an improvement
that had no higlier claim than novelty, or that stood not evidently on the tried
basis of experience and Revelation. He deprecated the speculative turn which
was becoming apparent among some of his brethren. He predicted evil to the
churches from the unhinging spirit which he thought it must engender. But he
was not uncharitable. If he saw any unreasonably inflated, and likely to
attempt extraordinary flights, he did not suddenly denounce them, but waited
for the predicted state of collapse when he hoped they would become more con-
siderate, self-knowing, and humble, and would return to the teachings of th'J
Spirit. Yet, if that correction served not, he withdrew his confidence, and was
not likely to restore it. In matters of so high concernment, he was not ready
to trust any man a second time.
As I now review the traits of Dr. Church's character, I am more impressed
by them than I was during his life. I think he must have been greater and bet-
ter than he then seemed. He stands now in the light of Heaven, and his reflected
JOHN HUBBARD CHURCH. 449
image is more striking than the original. Esteem gives place in my mind to
honour, and honour to reverence. The fathers must die before that which made
them worthy to be fathers can be understood.
I amj dear Sir, very respectfully and truly,
Your obedient servant,
N LOED.
TIMOTHY ALDEN.^
1798—1839.
Timothy Alden was a descendant from the Hon. John Alden of Duxbury,
who came in the May Flower to Plymouth, when he was about twenty-two
years of age. He was the son of the Rev. Timothy Alden, who was born
November 24, (0. S.) 1736, was graduated at Harvard College in 1762,
was ordained pastor of the Congregational church in Yarmouth, Mass.,
December 13, 1769, and died November 13, 1828, having nearly completed
the fifty-ninth year of his pastorate at Yarmouth, and the ninety-second
year of his age. His wife, who was a daughter of the Rev. Habijah Weld
of Attleborough, Mass., died October 28, 1796. They had six children,
all of whom survived both parents. Three of the sons were graduated at
Harvard College. One of them, Isaiah, was a teacher ; the other two were
ministers of the Gospel.
The subject of this sketch was born at Yarmouth, August 28, 1771.
He remained with his parents till he was eight years old, and then went to
Bridgewater to reside with an uncle, where he continued till he was nearly
fifteen. As the means of his parents were limited, it seems to have been
their intention that he should become a farmer ; and his uncle, with whom
he lived, promised him his valuable farm, if he would remain upon it; but
he was resolutely bent, even at that early period, upon a liberal education.
When he was sent into the fields to labour, he would sometimes carry out
with him his Latin Grammar, and would not only devote to it every moment
of leisure that he could find, but would contrive to make leisure, at the
expense of neglecting the task which had been assigned him. His uncle,
perceiving that there was little hope of making a farmer of him, and that
nothing would abate his desire for an education, wrote to his father, advi-
sing him to gratify his wish by sending him to College ; and his father
accordingly determined to do so. He commenced his preparatory course,
when he was about fifteen ; but, in consequence of ill health, was obliged
shortly to suspend his studies for a year. He began under the instruction
of his father, but was afterwards for a time, a pupil of the Rev. John
Mellent of Barnstable, and completed his course at Phillips Academy,
♦MS. from Rev. 0. A. Taylor, Rev. Jeremiah Taylor, and others.
t John Mellen was the son of the Rev. John Mellen, who was born at Hopkinton, Mass., in
1722; was graduated at Harvard College in 1741; was ordained pastor of the church in Ster-
ling, Mass., December 19, 1744; resigned his charge December 14, 1778; and died July 4,
1807, aged eighty-five. He published a Sermon at the ordination of .Joseph Palmer; [who was
born in Cambridge in 1730; was graduated at Harvard College in 1747; was ordained pastor of
the church in Norton, January 3, 1753; and died April 4, 1791, aged sixty-one;] a Sermon at
a General Muster, 1756; a Sermon upon the reduction of Canada, 1760; Fifteen Discourses,
1765; a Sermon on the death of Sebastian Smith, 1765; a Sermon at a Singing Lecture at
Vol. II. 57
450 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Andover. It is supposed to have been during the time of his residence at
Audover, that his mind took a decidedly religious direction.
He entered Harvard College in 1790, and was graduated in 1794. He took
a high rank as a scholar, and was particularly distinguished for his proficiency
in the Oriental languages. At the Commencement at which he was graduated,
he delivered a Syriac oration. There is a tradition that when he went to
President Willard to get his oration approved, the President, who knew not
a word of the language, said to him pleasantly, — "Come, Alden, sit down
and construe it to me ; " and when he had heard it read in plain English,
he gave it his prompt and hearty approval.
Mr. Alden directed his attention somewhat to the study of Theology during
his Senior year in College ; and it is believed that he remained at Cambridge
for this purpose, part of the year after he was graduated. It was not long,
however, before he commenced teaching in the Academy at Marblehead ; aad
while he was thus engaged, he was licensed to preach, and either then or
shortly after, received two or three calls to settle in the ministry. In the
year 1799, he preached at Portsmouth, N. H., as a candidate for settlement,
as colleague pastor with the Rev. Dr. Haven. On the 1st of October of
that year, the church gave him a call, and his ordination took place on the
20th of November following.
Mr. Alden, in the spring of 1800, commenced teaching a young ladies'
school at Portsmouth, in connection with his pastoral labours. This school
he continued, except during the winter months, as long as he retained his
pastoral charge. His salary proving inadequate to the support of his
family, and being unwilling any longer to unite the two vocations of teacher
and preacher, he was honourably dismissed by an ecclesiastical council, on
the 31st July, 1805.
After he had resigned his pastoral charge, he still continued in the busi-
ness of teaching. The ensuing winter he devoted to the instruction of
young ladies, and, in the spring of 1806, opened an Academy for both sexes.
Here he continued till the beginning of 1808, when he left Portsmouth
and commenced a female school in Boston. His labours as a teacher were
now highly appreciated by a large and respectable circle, and he enjoyed
the patronage of many of the most distinguished families. Here also he
had a fine opportunity for gratifying his antiquarian tastes, and he rendered
very important service to the Massachusetts Historical Society, which was
afterwards formally and gratefully acknowledged. On leaving Boston, he
received many highly flattering testimonials from distinguished clergymen
and others, and among them the following from the Bev. Joseph Stevens
Buckniinster : —
" The Bev. Timothy Alden has, for some time, sustained the character
of a faithful and successful instructor of youth in this town and in other
Marlborough, 1773; a Sermon at the ordination of Levi "Whitman; [who was a native of
Bridgewater, Mass.; was graduated at Harvard College in 1779; was ordained pastor of the
church at Wellflcet, Mass., April 13, 1785; resigned his charge in 1808; and died at Kingston
in 1838, in his ninety-second year.] John Mellen, Jr., was a native of Sterling; was gradua-
ted at Harvard College in 1770; waa ordained pastor of the Second Church in Barnstable,
November 12, 1783; was dismissed November 13, ISOO; and died in Cambridge, September 19,
1828, aged seventy-five. He published a Sermon at the funeral of the Rev. Isaiah Dunster;
[who was born in West Cambridge in 1720; was graduated at Harvard College in 1741 ; was
ordained pastor of the church in Harwich, (now Brewster,) Mass., November 13, 1748; and died
June 18, 1791, aged seventy-two;] a Masonic Discourse at Hanover, 1793; a Thanksgiving
Sermon, 1794; a Thanksgiving Sermon at Hanover, 179j; a Sermon on the death of Mrs. Sarah
Alden, 1797; Election Sermon, 1797; a Sermon on the death of the Hon. David Davis, 1799^
TIMOTHY A.LDEN. 452
places, and now leaves it for a situation of more extensive usefulness, with
the sincere regrets and best wishes of many literary and religious friends
here. His industry as Librarian of the Historical Society, his attention to
the young, and his learned, pious, and generous character, have much
endeared him to the clergy and others in this place, as well as to the subscri-
ber, who is satisfied that, wherever he is known, he will not need any
recommendation, which can be given by his sincere friend,
"J. S. BUCKMINSTER."
In the autumn of 1809, Mr. Alden resigned his place as teacher at
Boston, and in the beginning of January, 1810, took charge of the Young
Ladies' Department in the Academy at Newark, New Jersey. After remain-
ing here for several years, he opened a school for young ladies in the city of
New York. Shortly after, the project of establishing a College at Meadville,
Penn., was set on foot, and Mr. Alden enlisted in it with great zeal; and,
retiring from his school, acted as an agent in behalf of the new institution.
On one of his tours, he was met with an invitation to take charge of the
College in Cincinnati, with a liberal salary for that day, but he was too
strongly pledged to the institution at Meadville, to be able to recede honoura-
bly from his engagement. Having accepted the offices of both President
and Professor of the Faculty of Arts in this institution, his inauguration
took place on the 28th of July, 1817. He subsequently acted also as
Librarian and Secretary of the Board of Trustees. It was chiefly through
his indefatigable exertions that the library, chemical apparatus, &c., belong-
ing to the College, were obtained.
During the period of Mr. Alden's connection with this institution, he was
engaged more or less in preaching, and for the most part gratuitously, to
destitute congregations in the region round about. He also, for several
successive years, beginning with 1816, devoted some time to missionary
labour among the Seneca and Munsee tribes of Indians. He at first volun-
teered in this service, but afterwards received an appointment from the
Society for propagating the Gospel among the Indians and others in North
America. This appointment was designed to occupy whatever time he
could spare from his duties in connection with the College. In a letter to
the Rev. Dr. McKeen, dated November, 1816, he gives the following
account of an Indian by the name of Cornplanter, with whom he had come
in contact, — one of the notables of his tribe : —
"Last year, at a council of the tribe, Cornplanter made an eloquent
speech, of two hours length, in which he gave a lucid history of his life.
He stated that his father was a white man from Ireland, and that his mother
was a Seneca ; that he had always been attached to the tribe ; that he had
been zealous in their way of worship ; but that now he was convinced they
were all wrong ; that he was determined to devote himself to the way in
whicli the ministers walk, — meaning the Christian religion. 'I know,'
said he, 'that we are wrong, I know that they are right. Their way of
worshipping the Great Spirit is good. I see it; I feel it; I enjoy it.' In
this happy and persuasive mannner did he, with his imperfect knowledge,
plead the cause of Christ. In one part of his animated address, when
speaking of his former views and habits, his language seemed to be like that
of Paul, giving a representation of his pharisaic zeal in opposition to Christi-
anity, In another part, it was like that of Joshua stating his pious resolu-
tion to the tribes of Israel at Shechem."
452 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Mr. Alden's last missionary tour among the Indians seems to have been
in the year 1820. He is said to have been prompted to these benevolent
labours in their behalf, not merely from compassion to their spiritual wants
but from great admiration of their character.
Mr. Alden continued his connection with the College until November,
1831, when, having tendered his resignation, he retired from the place he
had so long occupied, carrying with him the grateful acknowledgments of
the Trustees of the College and others interested in its welfare, for his pro-
tracted and faithful services. In June, 1832, he removed with his family
to Cincinnati, where he opened a boarding school ; but, owing to the
impaired health of some members of his family, he remained there but
about a year and a hajf. Not far from the close of 1833, ho removed to
East Liberty, a town in the neighbourhood of Pittsburgh, Penn., and in
the spring of 1834, took charge of an Academy in that place. During the
year previous to his death, he officiated as a stated supply to the Pine
Creek congregation in Sharpsburgh, about five miles from Pittsburgh.
Possessing naturally a vigorous constitution, he enjoyed good health and was
able to be abundant in his labours, until within a few months of his decease,
when he was overtaken by an acute rheumatism. About six weeks previous
to his death, he preached what proved to be his last sermon, from the text
— "The end of all things is at hand;" and immediately after went to Pitts-
burgh, where he had a daughter settled, and placed himself under the care
of a distinguished physician of that city. After it became apparent to
himself as well as his friends that the time of his departure was at hand, a
dark cloud for some time rested over his mind, and he looked forward with
awful apprehensions to the change that awaited him. That cloud, however,
soon passed off, and those apprehensions yielded to an humble confidence in
his Redeemer, which quickly became so strong as to cast out all fear, and
even to fill his mind with the most intense rapture. In this state he con-
tinued till the moment of his departure. He died on the 5th of July,
1839, in the sixty-eighth year of his age, at the house of his daughter,
Mrs. McFadden, in Pittsburgh. His funeral obsequies were attended on
the following Sabbath, when there was a sermon preached by the Rev. Mr.
Todd, and his remains were deposited in the burying ground at Sharps-
burgh, connected with the little church in which he had commenced his
labours just one year before.
Mr. Alden was married to Elizabeth Shepard Wormsted of Marblehead.
She became the mother of five children, and died at Meadville, April, 1820.
Her two sons were educated at Meadville ; one of whom is a lawyer (1852)
at Pittsburgh, and the other is supposed to have been lost at sea. In 1822,
Mr. Alden was married to Sophia Louisa L. Mulcock, of Philadelphia. By
this marriage he had one child, — a daughter.
The following is a list of Mr. Alden's publications: — An Appendix to a
Sermon delivered at Yarmouth, occasioned by the sudden death of Mrs.
Sarah Alden, consort of Rev. Timothy Alden. By John Mellen, Jr., 1796.
A Century Sermon at Portsmouth, 1801. A Discourse before the Ports-
mouth Female Asylum, 1804. A Valedictory Discourse at Portsmouth,
1805. An Account of the Religious Societies in Portsmouth, 1808. The
New Jersey Register, 1811 and 1812. A Collection of American Epitaphs ;
In five volumes, 18mo., 1814. Alleghany Magazine, 1816. Hebrew
TIMOTHY ALDEN.
453
Catechism, 1821. Account of sundry Missions, 1827. History of the
Pine Creek church, 1839.
In addition to the above, he made numerous contributions to the Collections
of the Massachusetts Historical Society, and various periodicals.
FROM THE KEY. JONATHAlSf FEENCH, D. D.
North Hampton, N. H., January 30, 1852.
Rev. and dear Sir: My acquaintance with the Rev. Timothy Alden commenced
several years before he entered the ministry, and continued with increasing inti-
macy, after I settled, within a few miles of Portsmouth, where he was a minister
of the South parish, and colleague of the aged Dr. Haven. During Mr. Alden's
continuance in Portsmouth, our interviews were frequent. Our families always
felt as sure of a cordial welcome at each others' houses, as if we had been own
brothers. I may add that the genealogy of both my father and mother is traced
in the maternal line to John Alden, the common ancestor of us all.
Mr. Alden was known as a good scholar, well versed in classical studies, and
more conversant with the Oriental languages than were most scholars of his day.
lie had a double reason for engaging in a school in the early part of his ministry
— it was partly on account of the inadequacy oS his salary as a minister, to the
support of his family, and partly that he might confer a benefit on the community,
particularly on an interesting portion of his own flock. His attention being thus
divided, he could not devote so much time to theological studies and sermonizing
as he gladly would have done in other circumstances. He was a diligent student
and industrious in whatever he undertook; but he was not " a worldly wise man."
Some of his schemes to relieve himself from embarrassments, improve his circum-
stances, and increase his usefulness, and which, for a time he pursued with very
sanguine expectations of success, proved abortive, and were generally considered
indiscreet; but he was regarded as strictly upright and sincerely pious. His
manner of sermonizing and speaking were serious and instructive, but not of a
popular cast.
Mr. Alden was much esteemed by his brethren in the Association, and by
those who knew him best in our congregations. He was an attentive pastor and
found opportunity for more pastoral intercourse with his people than could have
been expected in one whose labours were so various and pressing. As a col-
league, he was respectful and affectionate towards the venerable and justly
beloved Dr. Haven, who lived to experience the infirmities and feebleness of
advanced age.
Mr. Alden's pleasant manners and affectionate spirit did much to render his
home happy in the various vicissitudes of his affairs. His memory is precious.
I rejoice that his name is to have a place in the important work in which you are
engaged.
I am, Rev. and dear Sir, with great respect and esteem, yours truly,
JONATHAN FRENCH.
FROM THE REV. A. P. PEABODY, D. D.
Portsmouth, July 23, 1853.
My dear Sir: As to the Rev. Timothy Alden, I am not only his successor, but
knew him personally, and am very glad to give you such traditions and remem-
brances as occur to me.
I have still a few parishioners who remember ^Ir. Alden as a preacher and pas-
tor, lie was highly esteemed as a man of talents and attainments, and lefl
behind him the reputation (just, I believe) of superior biblical learning. His
appearance in the pulpit is said to have been imposing, his manner of deUvery, on
the whole, pleasing, though rather too rapid. As a man of sincere piety, of a
454 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
gentle spirit, and a benevolent life, he was greatly esteemed and beloved. I have
heard concerning him the most reliable testimony of all, — that of those who were
poor and experienced his constant sympathy and the most generous relief, consid-
ering his scanty means, and that of tlie then children who loved him tenderly and
were the objects of his especial regard.
During the greater part of his ministry here, and for a year or two subse-
quently, he kept a scliool for young ladies, and this, I am inclined to think, was
the field of labour for which, of all others, lie was best fitted. I suppose that I
am, or have been, acquainted with from two to four score of his pupils, and hear
of him one character from all. They speak in terms of the warmest gratitude of
his zeal for their improvement, his exceeding kindness, his always amiable
deportment, and the prominent place which he uniformly gave to religious
motives, counsels, and intluences.
He engaged, it is believed, with the most unselfish purpose, in various plans of
a secular character. I have often heard the opinion expressed that if he had con-
fined his attention to his professional duties, he would have been perfectly
successful as a minister. But his occupations were many and various. An
intelligent member of my church, recently deceased, who was a communicant
during his ministry, and was frequently in his family, has often told me of his
exemplary meekness, his skill yi the soft answer that turneth away wrath, and
his self-sacrifice for the harmony of his family; and she maintained'to the day of
her death that he was the best man and the best minister that she had ever
known.
In 1827-28, I was a teacher at iMeadville, Pa. Mr. Alden, at that time, lived a
short distance from the village. The walls of his College building were erected,
but nothing had been done towards finishing the interior. His very admirable
College Library was kept in an apartment of the Court House, where he officiated
as Librarian every Monday morning. I was a weekly visitor at the Library,
during my residence at Meadville, — usually spent the greater part of the hour in
conversation with i\Ir. Alden, and always enjoyed his society. His manners were
those of a Christian gentleman. His conversation betrayed a rich, fertile, and
ingenious mind, and as I was then a mere youth, I was greatly indebted to him
for information and advice about books, assistance in literary researches, &c. He
never seemed so happy as when he could confer a kindness. I conceived the
highest respect for him as a man of the most generous culture and profound book-
wisdom, sincere and active benevolence, and mature Christian character. I think
that he was generally regarded at Meadville as I regarded him ; every one who
knew him esteemed and loved him.
Notwithstanding Mr. Alden's many excellencies, he was undoubtcdl}' deficient
in worldly wisdom, and, at the same time, wholly unaware of the deficiency.
Not with selfish aims, but for benevolent and philanthropic purposes, he was per-
petually projecting meclianical and economical entorjjrises, tlie failure of which,
while it never impaired his own sanguine, hopeful temperament, undoubtedly
exerted an injurious influence on his professional and literary success.
When I knew him, he was still an active man, rather portly in person, quick
in his motions. I remember that he generally rode on horseback wherever ho
went. Facing the title page of his "Missions" is an excellent likeness of him
as he was then.
Sincerely and respectfully yours,
A. P. PEABODT.
LEONARD WORCESTER. 455
LEONARD WORCESTER.^
1799—1846.
Leonard Worcester was born at Hollis, N. II., January 1, 1767.
His parents, Noah and Lydia (Taylor) Worcester, were both exemplary
members of the church, and his mother especially was distinguished for her
Christian attainments. After her death, which occurred when he was only
five years and a half old, he was committed to the care of an excellent
maternal uncle, Abraham Taylor of Ashby, Mass., with whom he remained
four years, and then returned and lived with his father till he had reached
his eighteenth year.
Besides enjoying the advantage of a religious education, he lived in a
community that was distinguished for both morality and piety, and thus
was comparatively little exposed, during his early years, to the influence of
bad example. There was a Society of young men in the town, that used to
meet every Sabbath evening for religious exercises. He attached himself
to this Society when he was but little more than fifteen, and was accustomed
to take his turn in conducting the devotional service ; and when he was only
in his seventeenth year, during a temporary absence of his father from home,
he consented to take the lead in family worship. He did not, however,
during all this time, cherish the hope that he had become the subject of a
spiritual renovation.
In September, 1784, being then in his eighteenth year, he went to Wor-
cester to learn the printing business in the office of Isaiah Thomas. Here
he found himself surrounded not only by fewer restraints, but by many
more positive temptations, than he had been subject to in the comparative
privacy of his paternal home. He succeeded, however, in a good degree,
in resisting the influence of wicked associates, and maintaining not only a
correct moral deportment, but a general sense of the importance of vital
religion. In the summer of the year 1786, a letter from his younger
brother, who was still living with his father, informed him of an interesting
revival of religion in his native place, and of the hopeful conversion of sev-
eral of his intimate friends. This made a powerful impression upon his
mind, and brought him to engage with great solemnity in the business of
self-communion, and, as a consequence, brought him to a deep conviction of
his sinfulness, and ultimately, as he believed, to a cordial acceptance of the
provisions of Divine mercy in Jesus Christ. In the autumn of the same
year, he was admitted a member of the First church in Worcester ; and,
though he was in his twentieth year, he was the youngest person belonging
to it. A few years after, the llev. Samuel Austin became pastor of the
church, and Mr. Worcester soon became intimate with him, and derived, as
he thought, much advantage as well as pleasure from the acquaintance. In
the year 1795, when he was in his twenty-eighth year, and still, as is
believed, the youngest member of the church, he was chosen to the office of
Deacon. This office he accepted and continued to hold, till he entered the
ministry.
• MSS. from hie family.
456 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Mr. Worcester remained in the printing business until March, 1799, and
resided in Worcester during the whole time, excepting a few months, in the
beginning of the year 1789, which he spent in Boston. He was all this
time connected with Mr. Thomas in one way or another; first, as an appren-
tice, then as a journeyman, and then as a partner; though, for scver»il
years, he was in an oQicc of his o\Vn ; and then his partnership with Mr-
Thomas respected only the newspaper called the Massachusetts Spy, of
which he (Mr. T.) was proprietor; and, during that time, Mr. Worcester
was editor, printer, and publisher.
Several months before he gave up his business as a printer, he became
strongly impressed with the idea that his duty required that he should with-
draw from secular life and devote himself to the mini.stry. Many clerical
friends, among whom were his three brothers then in the ministry, and his
brothers-in-law. Doctors Emmons and Austin, advised decidedly to such a
change ; and nearly all whom he consulted, concurred in the same opinion.
He had, not long before this, published a pamphlet containing Strictures on
a Sermon preached by the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Aaron Bancroft, on the
doctrine of Election ; and this was generally considered by his friends as
exhibiting evidence of a mind of uncommon vigour, and not a little familiar-
ized to theological discussion. It is supposed to have been owing, in a
great measure, to this circumstance, that the opinion so commonly prevailed
among his friends, that he might safely make a somewhat sudden transition
from the business to which he had been educated, to the vocation of a
Christian minister. Accordingly, without having gone through any regular
course of study preparatory to the ministry, he offered himself to the Men-
don Association as a candidate for license, in March, 1799 ; and, after
having, by a thorough examination, satisfied themselves of his qualifications
for the sacred office, they concurred unanimously in licensing him and
recommending him to the churches.
Shortly after he was licensed, he accepted an invitation to preach some
time at Milford, Mass., and remained there for twelve Sabbaths. In the
mean time he had been requested to supply the pulpit in Peacham, Vt. ;
and he accordingly went thither in June, 1799, as soon as the term for
which he was engaged at JlilforJ had expired. He had no acquaintances
at Peacham, except two young men who had been apprentices with him,
and who had estahli.slied themselves there in the printing business ; and it
was chiefly or entirely through their influence that he was sent for. The
parish was, at that time, in a divided state, having heard various candidates,
without being able to unite upon any. After preaching to them four Sab-
baths, he received a unanimous call from the church, to become their pastor,
which was immeiliately after concurred in ]iy a unanimous vote of the Society.
He accepted the call, and was drilained on the oOtli of October following.
After the puldication of "Bilde News" by his brother, Noah Worcester,
in 1810, it is understood that his views underwent some change on the doc-
trine of the Trinity, and that he settled down, for a time at least, upon a
theory not materially unlike that of which his brother had become the
advocate. Some time after this change, the Confession of Faith of the
church in Peacham was modified, and, after that modification, was published
with a Vindication of it. I am indebted to one of his sons, the Rev. Sam-
uel A. Worcester, for the following statement of his views at this period : —
LEONARD WORCESTER. 457
"I suppose I canuot more nearly express his views than in the following
terms: — Jesus Christ, the Redeemer, is, as to his original nature and state,
truly and properly the Son op God, — not created by the Father, but derived
from the Father by an eternal generation; — distinct from the Father, and
therefore not properly God, — yet of the same nature with the Father, and
therefore truly and properly Divine. The Holy Spirit is not a person dis-
tinct from the Father — not a person at all ; but bears a relation to God,
analogous to the relation of the spirit of a man to the man. Though he
renounced the doctrine of the distinct personality of the Spirit, he spoke of
the works and fruits of the Spirit just as Trinitarians do ; and like them
considered whatever is done by the Spirit as done by God. On all other
points except the Trinity, he remained strictly orthodox ; abiding stead-
fastly by what are termed the doctrines of grace, and delighting especially
in the doctrine of atonement and of justification by faith. I believe that
for years after he embraced his peculiar views of the Son and Holy Spirit,
he held thom with much confidence of their correctness. I do not know
that that confidence was afterwards diminished ; but have thought it proba-
ble. The silence which he maintained on the subject towards the close of
his life would naturally lead to the inference that he had more or less doubt
of the correctness of his theory."
Notwithstanding Mr. Worcester's first avowal of this change of his reli-
gious opinions occasioned some anxiety among his orthodox friends, they
gradually settled into the conviction that, however they might regret his
speculations, they were not to be considered as placing him outside the cir-
cle of either their charity or their fellowship ; and the prevailing impression
among them seems to have been that in the later years of his life, he occu-
pied nearly, if not precisely, the same ground with themselves.
Mr. Worcester continued labouring with great fidelity and success at
Peacham, for nearly forty years. At the close of the year 1838, having
become too infirm to go through his regular ministerial duties, he relin-
quished his salary, and virtually resigned his charge, though he retained
nominally the pastoral relation till his death, — his successor being settled
as colleague pastor. In the spring of 1839, he removed to Littleton, N.
H., and took up his residence with one of his sons, who was settled there
in the ministry, and remained with him until the failure of his son's health
obliged him also to resign his pastoral charge. In January, 1843, he
removed to St. Johnsbury, Vt., where another of his sons was settled, and
here he continued during the remainder of his life. He preached occasion-
ally after his removal from Peacham ; and during one winter, which his son
spent at the South, he usually supplied his pulpit on the Sabbath, — deliv-
ering his sermon, sitting in a high chair prepared for the purpose ; until, on
a Sabbath morning, just as he was starting for church, he was suddenly
prostrated by some disease which was not fully understood, and which it
was expected would terminate in almost immediate death. He, however,
partially recovered, though he never afterwards ventured to attempt any
public service. During his residence at St. Johnsbury, he was able to
attend church in pleasant weather half of the day ; and his venerable appear-
ance, as he sat in a large arm-chair in front of the pulpit, his son remarked,
preached much more effectively than he could. He died at St. Johnsbury on
the 28th of May, 1846, in the eightieth year of his age. The disease
Vol. II. 58
458 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
wliitli immediately occasioned his death was a lung-fever, of about three or
four weeks' continuance.
Mr. Worcester was first married November 1, 1793, to Elizabeth, daugh-
ter of the Kev. Dr. Hopkins of Iladley, Mass. Tliey had fourteen children,
five of whom died in infancy, and five more in adult age, before their father.
Four of his sons received a collegiate education, and four, namely, — Samuel
A., Evarts, Isaac R., and John H., became ministers of the Gospel. Mrs.
Worcester, who was a lady of marked intellectual character, and of devoted
piety, died in 1818. He was subsequently married (January 20, 1820) to
Eunice Woodbury of Salem, Mass., who ministered to his wants in the
decline of life with most exemplary fidelity and tenderness, and who sur-
vived him only a few weeks.
The following is a list of Mr. Worcester's publications : — Letters and
remarks occasioned by a Sermon of the Rev. A. Bancroft on the doctrine
of Election, 1794. An Oration on the death of Washington, 1800. A
Fast Sermon on " Jeshurun waxed fat and kicked," &c., 1802. A Sermon
on the highway and way : Isa. xxxv. 8. Answer to a Sermon of the Rev.
Wm. Gibson in opposition to the foregoing — doctrine of Atonement, &c.
A Sermon on 2 Samuel vii. 27: Determinations of God an encourage-
ment to prayer. A Sermon entitled — "Men sometimes act as their own
worst enemies": Judges ix. 19, 20. Inquiries occasioned by an Address
of the General Association of New Hampshire on the doctrine of the Trin-
ity, signed Cephas. A Funeral Sermon : The Christian desirous to be with
Christ. A Sermon : The Confession of Faith of the church of Christ in
Peacham defended. An appeal to the conscience of the Rev. Solomon
Aiken, concerning his appeal to the churches, 1821. A Sermon at the ordi-
nation of the Rev. Elnathan Gridley and the Rev. S. A. Worcester, mis-
sionaries, 1825. A Sermon on the Alton outrage, 1837. What hath God
wrought: A Sermon near the close of the author's ministry, 1839.
In addition to the above, Mr. Worcester was a frequent contributor to
various religious periodicals ; particularly the Massachusetts Missionary
Magazine, Evangelical Magazine, Boston Recorder, Vermont Chronicle,
and Christian Panoply.
FROM THE REV. WORTHINGTON SMITH, D. D.,
PRESIDENT OF THE UNIVEESITY OF VERMONT.
University of Vermont, November 13, 1849.
Rev. and dear Sir: Of my ' personal recollections and impressions ' in regard
to the late Rev. Leonard Worcester, I am sorry to say, that they are few and
not of the most relialile character. They were formed, for the most part, at an
early period in my life; and under circumstances that afforded but occasional
opportunities, and those not the most favourable, for close observation. The
notices, however, which I have been able to take of him in later jears, have not
essentially changed my earlier impressions, but rather served to corroborate
them .
In his personal appearance I sliould describe Mr. Worcester as above the ordi-
nary stature of men, well proportioned, muscular, and erect in form, with the
exception of a forward inclination of the liead. His movements were slow and
dignified; his countenance grave and thoughtful, with possibly a slight shade of
sadness cast over it, but, at the same time, expressive of a quiet and benig
nant spirit.
LEONARD WORCESTER. 459
Though Mr. Worcester did not enjoy the advantages of high cultivation, it is
not difficult to discover in the productions of his pen traces of an unusually fer-
tile and ingenious mind, — active from its own impulses, and working easily and
felicitously on almost all subjects that engaged its attention. Accustomed to
self-reliance, by the necessities attendant on the early part of his professional
life, his mind took on the habit of independent thinking; and in connection with
this, perhaps, acquired the art of contemplating common subjects under aspects
somewhat new and fresh. The atfectation, however, of holding up familiar
objects in strange and startling lights, or a propensity to venture upon rash or
hazardous speculations, was never, I must think, laid to his charge. It may be
true that, at one period, his friends Tvere not without their apprehensions that
his opinions, on certain important points, were somewhat biassed by the acute
speculations of his brother, the celebrated Noah Worcester; but, in the latter
years of his life, I do not remember to have heard his orthodoxy impugned or
even questioned, in a single instance.
As a preacher, he was methodical and instructive; studious, however, to pre-
sent truth rather in its practical application to men and to human life, than
under its speculative aspects. His manner, according to my impressions, was
conciliatory and persuasive; and though in the selection of his topics for the pul-
pit, there was no evasion of the truths which speak to the consciences of men,
there was a seeming predilection for those which appeal more directly to the sen-
sibilities of the heart. He read his sermons closely whenever I have heard him,
and in rather a uniform tone of voice, without action or strong emphasis; and
yet, altogether, in a manner so serious and earnest as could seldom fail to leave
a salutary, and often left a very deep, impression on his audience.
An unassuming and courteous demeanour marked his intercourse with men.
In expressing his opinions on matters of moment, he was considerate and
guarded; at the same time, however, tenacious of his conclusions and purposes
when once formed — a pattern of industry and thoroughness in all his pursuits,
and prompt to fulfil all his engagements.
The disadvantages under which he himself, at the first, must have laboured,
taught him perhaps more fully to appreciate the benefits of a public education;
and it is worthy of notice that few towns in New England, of the same popula-
tion and within a like period of time, have given to an equal number of its young
men a collegiate education, as the one in which his ministerial life was passed.
As a prudent and wise counsellor in matters of a private nature as well as
those pertaining to society and the church, his reputation was deservedly high.
In respect to his personal piety, the power and consolations of Divine grace in
his own heart, and their manifestation in the outward life, I shall not speak par-
ticularly; though on this point there is the most ample and reliable testimony.
I will only add that, as an earnest and indefatigable co-worker in the cause of
education and Christian philanthropj-, as an example of diligence and fidelity in
his professional calling, a man of conscientious aims, of devout life, and, through
grace, ' wise to win souls to Christ,' — he has left behind him, in our churches and
ministry, a name that is better than rubies.
I am, dear Sir, most respectfully and truly yours,
W. SMITH.
In addition to the above testimony by Dr. Smith, I have seen several
letters from those who were well acquainted with Mr. Worcester, and were
every way competent to judge concerning him, all of which agree in ascrib-
ing to him great vigour of mind, firmness of purpose, and general elevation
of character. The Hon. Judge Rcdficld of Randolph,— himself a member
of the Episcopal Church, writes thus concerning him: —
460 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
No minister of the Gospel, I think, in the section of country where he was
familiarly known, — and that was not circumscribed by narrow limits, — was so
universally respected and deferred to as Mr. Worcester. And still he was not
a man who was ambitious of influence from any personal considerations what-
ever, or who sought it in any way. He courted no one. lie was gentle and
winning, even in his severity. He said notlxing and did nothing for the purpose
merely of carrying a point, or from tlie love of mastery, but all seemed to come,
as it always did come, from his love of truth and his high convictions of duty.
His influence in the town of Peacham was very great, and always for good. I
question if a solitar}'- instance is now remembered where his advice and efforts
were not directed to the greatest good of the greatest number. J. F. R.
CALVIN PARK, D. D *
1800—1847.
Calvin Park, the son of Nathan and Ruth (Bannister) Park, was born
at Northbridge, Mass., September 11, 1774. He was fitted for Collego
under the llev. Dr. Crane, the minister of his native place. Ho entered
Brown University in the nineteenth year of his age, and was graduated with
distinguished honour, under President Mascy's administration, in 1797.
He was appointed Tutor in the College at which he was graduated, in 1800;
was elected Professor of Languages in the same institution, in 1804 ; and in
1811, was transferred to the Professorship of Moral Philosophy and Meta-
physics, in which office he remained until 1825. The three years preceding
his Tutorship in College, he spent in teaching school and studying Divinity
at Worcester, Mass. He studied first under the direction of Dr. Austin
of Worcester, and afterwards of Dr. Emmons of Franklin. He was
licensed to preach in 1800 ; was ordained as an Evangelist in 1815 ; was
installed pastor of the Evangelical Congregational church at Stoughton,
Mas's., in 1826 ; and resigned his pastoral office in 1840. His ordination
sermon was preached by his former pastor and teacher. Dr. Crane, and liis
installation sermon by Dr. Emmons. Before his official connection with
Brown University, he had spent four years in the instruction of youth, and
during his connection with the College he devoted his Sabbaths to the
preaching of the Gospel ; so that he was an instructor twenty-nine years,
and a preacher forty-six years. He received the degree of Doctor of Divin-
ity from Brown University in 1818. He died at Stoughton, January 5.
1847, in the seventy-third year of his age ; and now lies interred with his
deceased wife, in the place of their fathers' sepulchres at Wrentham, Mass.
Dr. Park was married in 1805, to Abigail Ware of Wrentham, a lineal
descendant of the llev. Samuel Man,t the first Congregational minister of
that place. They had three children, — all sons, and all graduates of Brown
University, and Congregational clergymen. One of them is the llev. Dr. E.
A. Park, Professor in the Theological Seminary at Andover. Mrs. Park died
on the 21st of September, 1836, aged sixty-two years.
• MS. from his son.
^ Samuel Man was bom at Cambridge in 1647; was graduated at Harvard College in 1665;
was ordained first pastor of the church at Wrentham, Mass., April 13, 1692 ; and died May 22,
1719, aged seventy-two.
CALVIN PARK. 4(jX
FROM THE REV. JACOB IDE, D. D.
West Medwat, March 15, 1848,
Dear Sir : In accordance with your request, I send you a few thoughts respecting
the late Rev. Dr. Calvin Park. I enjoyed a long and somewhat intimate acquaint-
ance with him. His character has made a distinct impression on my mind,
which I love to cherish, and which I hope will never be obliterated. But having
had no thought of writing his memoir, it is not now an easy thing for me to give
you or any one else, that view of his character which I have in my own mind.
Many of the incidents of his life which have served to give me the impression
that I have concerning him, and which would be among the best illustrations of
the truth of what I may say, are now either forgotten or so imperfectly remem-
bered as not to admit of recital. But I am happy to respond to your call, by
giving you such a sketch of his character as my reflections shall suggest.
There was much that was interesting in Dr. Park as a man. The general traits
of his character were those of other great and good men. He had indeed his
peculiarities which, in some respects, distinguished him from others. It is much
easier, however, to say that he was a peculiar man, than to describe definitely his
distinguishing characteristics. If your readers will take the trouble to consider
how a man of discriminating intellect, a warm heart, refined taste, and extensive
literary and theological attainments, is necessarily affected in his intercouse with
the world by extreme diffidence, they M'ill have some conception of one thing
which distinguished Dr. Park from other men. While he was free from every
thing that is odd and repulsive, from every thing haughty and overbearing; —
while the dignity of his appearance created respect, and the kindness of his lan-
guage and manner excited affection, he frequently left his visitors to feel that they
had not had a full exhibition of the man. Some men exhaust themselves on
every subject of which they speak. Nothing which they know or feel respecting
it is withhold. Not so with Dr. Park. Whether he said little or much, mani-
fested more or less feeling, he always left the impression that only a part of his
intellect and heart had been developed.
He was a man of great sensibilit}-. No one could be long in his presence with-
out perceiving that he had a soul which could be easily stirred. His feelings
were quick and strong; but the control which he exercised over them was pecu-
liar. He knew the danger of giving a hasty utterance to strong emotions, and
was often silent under the influence of those which filled his heart. Under the
heaviest grief and sorrow he seemed unwilling to burden his friends with the
tale of his woes. In the midst of insults and provocations, which would have
extorted from others the severest invectives, he would refrain from everj^ pro-
voking expression. He could speak by his silence, and reprovingly too; and thus
he often did. But the harsh language of angry excitement he instinctively
abhorred. I am not aware that he ever assailed an adversary with reproachful
epithets, or replied to any one in terms of anger or abuse. " When he was
reviled, he reviled not again; when he suffered, he threatened not."
Dignified composure, a becoming self-respect, and a strong sense of propriety
in regard to what belonged to his cliaracter and station, uniformly marked his
conduct. He was punctual to his appointments, regular in his habits, warm in
his attachments, decided in his opinions, and persevering in every good work to
which he turned his hand.
As a Christian. Dr. Park was highly esteemed. The traits of character which
belonged to him as a man, served to modify the exercise and development of his
religion. He maintained the same modest and cautious reserve with respect tn
this subject, which was natural to him on others. He w-as not, of course, inclined
to make his own religious feelings a common and prominent topic of conversation.
These were learned more by what he said on the subject of experimental religion.
462 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
and by inference from his appearance and conduct, than by what he said directly
respecting himself. In his prayers he appeared very humble, devout, and solemn.
When he prayed, he seemed to be overawed by a sense of God's presence. The
tones of his voice in this exercise, as well as his looks and whole manner, indi-
cated a deep solemnity. There was in his conversation on the subject of religion,
the appearance of great sincerity and conscientiousness. And these traits of
character were strikingly manifest in all his conduct. He seemed to be deeply inter-
ested in every thing that pertains to the religion of Christ. He conversed upon
the doctrines and duties of the Go.speI, upon revivals of religion, upon the state of
the churches, upon the prosperity of Zion, not onl}" with great intelligence, but
with that intense interest, whicli is the surest index of the feelings of the heart.
He loved the truth. His religion seemed to consist very much in a cordial appro-
bation of the Divine character and conduct, as they are revealed in tlie Bible.
His wise discrimination between trutli and falsehood laid the foundation, not only
for deep and pure feeling on all the subjects of Christian experience, but for such a
development in his life of their practical effects, as is a great ornament to religion.
Dr. Park was an accomplished Scholar. His mind was one of no ordinary cast
Had he been blest with the strength of nerve, which God has connected with the
constitutions of some, and with a confidence in himself proportioned to his real
talents and attainments, he might have been known as one of the first literary
characters and Divines of his age. His taste was exquisite. He instinctively
perceived the beauties and defects of a literary performance. And while he was
greatly delighted with the one, he was equally annoyed by the other. Literary
pursuits were to him a source of high enjoyment. An exhibition of talents, of
scholarship, of high professional excellence, especially when made in the defence
or promotion of truth and righteousness, never failed to give him peculiar pleasure
If he did not extract so much knowledge from books as some other scholars, there
were few capable of doing so much from the operations of their own minds. In
the languages he was a critic of great accuracy and judgment. Mental and Moral
Philosophy were among his favourite studies; and the clearness and discrimina-
tion with which he conversed on these subjects, showed him to be at home in
them. He was familiar with Locke, Paley, Reid, Stuart, Edwards, and many
of the more modern writers on these subjects. In Philosophy as well as in Tlic-
ology he agreed essentially with Edwards.
As a Teacher, Dr. Park was well known, and is still remembered b}^ a great
multitude of pupils with much respect and esteem. lie was succes.sivelj' a Tutor,
a Professor of Languages, and Professor of Metaphv-sics and Moral Philosophy,
at Brown University. In each of these departments of instruction he was aide
and faithful. Though too diffident and careful to display hini.self to as much
advantage as his talents and attainments would otherwise have given him, he
was nevertheless a very interesting and instructive teacher. Well acquainted
himself with every subject on which he attempted to give instruction, his remarks
were uniformly definite, discriminating, and lucid. In a few words of his own,
at the recitation of his pupils, he would often give them a clearer view of the sub-
ject before them, than thej' had gained or could gain from many pages of the
books which they studied. He never tired his pupils with his own remarks. On
the other hand, they were so lucid, so appropriate, so directly to the point, that
all regretted they were so few.
As a Preacher, Dr. Park was not what is generally understood by the term
popular. But there was real excellence both in the matter and manner of his
preaching. This was seen by the most intelligent of hi."! hearers, and highly
enjoj^ed by all the good. He was a thorough Divine, and had a rich store of the-
ological knowledge always at command. His sermons were full of thought,
clearly, appropriately, and elegantly expressed. The same great truths which
enriched the discourses of Edwards, Bellamy, and other kindred spirits among the
CALVIN PARK. 4^3
Divines of New England, formed the matter of his sermons. These he dclircred
in a clear, distinct, and solemn tone of voice. Though he made but little noise,
he was always heard. The weight of his matter, the solemnity of his manner,
and the plainness and pungency of his application, fixed the attention of his
audience, and often made a deeper impression upon their minds than the discourses
of many others equally evangelical in their views and more imposing in their
mode of delivery. His was indeed a still small voice. But conveying, as it did,
the truth of God in simplicity, it was more indicative of the Divine presence, and
often more efficient and salutary in its results, than the wind, the fire, and the
earthquake. Christians were greatly instructed and comforted by his preaching,
and it is believed that not a few of the impenitent were, by the same instrumen-
tality, led to Christ. He will have a place, I doubt not, among those who have
turned many to righteousness, and who will shine as the brightness of the firma-
ment and as the stars, forever and ever.
Very respectfuUj' yours,
JACOB IDE.
ISAAC ROBINSON, D. D *
1801—1854.
Isaac Robinson was a son of Simeon and Lucy (Tarbox) Robinson, and
was born at Hudson, N. H., (then Nottingham West,) in August, 1779.
The years preceding his arrival at manhood were passed in hard labour on
a farm, with but limited opportunities for attending school. Yet such was
his thirst for knowledge that, amidst all these disadvantages, he found time
for study, and made very considerable improvement. From early childhood
he evinced a profound reverence for sacred things; and his religious impres-
sions were not a little deepened by a very narrow escape from drowning,
when he had almost reached his maturity. The precise period of his hopeful
conversion is not known ; but it must have been before he was of age,
as he seems, about that time, to have resolved on entering the Gospel
ministry.
Having pursued his studies a short time with such assistance as he could
obtain from his own minister, he commenced a course of classical and theological
study with the Rev. Reed Paige of Hancock. After remaining here about
a year, he was licensed to preach the Gospel. He supplied the pulpit in
Stoddard a few Sabbaths in the autumn of 1801; and, after an absence of
several months, returned in the spring of 1802, being then in his twenty-
third year. On the 30th of August of that year, he received a call from
both the church and the town to become their minister ; and, having accepted
the call, was ordained on the 5th of January, 1803. Here he remained till
the close of his ministry and life.
In 1838, he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Dartmouth
College.
Dr. Robinson preached his Half-Century Sermon in January, 1853. And
he continued to labour after this with his accustomed vigour, until within a
• MS. from his daughter.
454 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
few weeks of his death. Though it was manifest to all who saw him that
his physical frame was now sinking under the power of disease, he continued
to officiate even to the Sabbath immediately preceding that on which he
died ; and on the occasion of that last meeting with his people, he not only
preached, but administered the ordinances of Baptism and the Lord's Sup-
per. So pale and exhausted was he, that his friends did thoir utmost to
dissuade him from this effort; but he resisted their importunity, saying that
he must take leave of his flock, and that if he died in the effort, as some of
them feared he might, there could be no bettor place to die in, than the
house of God. The evening before his death, he said to a neighbouring
minister who had called to see him, that he had no desire to continua longer
in this world, and that he could rest his soul on Christ. On the morning
of his dying day, (the Sabbath,) he seemed happy in the reflection that that
would be the day of his departure. Aroused by the ringing of the first bell,
he exclaimed, — " If it be the will of the Lord, may my earthly labours end
on this Sabbath." He spoke no more, but expired shortly after the close
of the morning service. His death took place on the 9th of July, 1854.
His funeral sermon was preached by the Kev. Dr. John M. Whiton.
He was married in 1812 to Esther, daughter of Ephraim Adams, one of
the deacons of his church, — a lady of fine mental powers, but deeply afilicted,
in the latter half of her life, by periodical returns of insanity. They had
four children, — one son and three daughters. Mrs. Robinson died in August,
1851, a few days after the death of her husband.
Dr. Piobinson published, about the year 1809, a large pamphlet in oppo-
sition to Universalism, being an answer to a pamphlet from Mr. Paine, a
Universalist minister ; a Sermon on the death of the Rev. Seth Payson, I).
D., 1820 ; a Sermon on the Supreme Divinity of Jesus Christ, together
with one or two pamphlets occasioned by Strictures of the Rev., Thomas R.
Sullivan on the Sermon.
FROM THE REV, JOHN M. WHITON, D. D.
Bennington, N. H., 2 January, 1855.
Dear Sir: Dr. Robinson and myself exercised our ministry simultaneously,
in adjacent parishes, through a period of forty-six years. In all this time, it
was my privilege to be in not only friendly, but intimate, relations with him ;
and scarce a year passed without an exchange of pulpits. You may judge from
this of my opportunities for forming a correct judgment of his character.
His personal appearance w^as not prepossessing; he was of dark complexion,
low stature, and rather corpulent. Having been bred a farmer, and secluded
from literary society till he began his course of theological study, he never
acquired polislicd manners, but laboured under an oppressive diffidence and a
seeming reserve, till he became acquainted with those with whom he associated.
It needed, however, but a short acquaintance to convince them that, in their
estimate, he had not at first passed for what he was worth — they found in him
a treasury of intelligence and wisdom which made them feel that he was no
ordinary man. So rapid and evident was his literary and theological progress
as to throw entirely into the shade his lack of collegiate education and of a
thorough preparatory training in Divinity. It was felt that his mental resources
were adequate to the attainment and maintenance of a prominent position,
without the aid of the schools. With the original languages of the Bible he
made himself familiar, beyond almost all his brethren — nothing more delighted
him than to read in the Hebrew and Greek the very words dictated by the Holy
ISAAC ROBINSON. 4g5
Ghost. No one who knew him, will think me extravagant in saying that in
Ucbrew literature, in Biblical criticism, in skilful interpretation of the Scriptures,
he had not a superior, if an equal, in the State.
Dr. Kobinson usually wrote his sermons, or at least the outline, in a short hand
of his own invention; and after a review of the manuscript on Sabbath morning,
carried it into the pulpit, but rarely made any use of it, — his very retentive
memory rendering it unnecessary. When, as was often the case, his soul warmed
with his subject, his more unconstrained manner and flashing eye announced his
victory over his constitutional diffidence. His discourses were rich in Scripture
truth, presented in a lucid and impressive manner.
He performed less pastoral labour in the way of visiting and holding personal
intercourse v,'ith his people, than many others; but this was doubtless to be
accounted for, partly at least, from the fact that he was subject to protracted
domestic trials, that often rendered even a temporary absence from his family
impracticable. These trials, however, severe as they were, he bore with exem-
plary submission. His spirit, at such times, was visibly saddened, but he never
lost his confidence in God's wisdom and kindness.
Dr. Robinson was eminently a man to be trusted. It pained him to hear
censures from others, and when he could, he loved to interpose some apology for
the accused. No man had more of the charity that thinketh no evil. He was
extremely sensitive to kindness, and even in severe suflering seemed to think
more of the comfort of others than of his own. He was painfully affected by
injurious treatment, but such was his self-control, that he showed but little
emotion, and none of an improper kind.
In large assemblages he was a man of few words, — exceedingly unobtrusive, —
scarcely willing to assume the place which others accorded as his due. In the
private intercourse of social life, he preached rather by example than by word.
Though his ministry in Stoddard reached through more than half a century,
and though the surrounding population embraced a variety of character and
denomination, yet so evident were his integrity, candour, trustworthiness, and
piety, that he retained the respect and even veneration of the whole community,
undiminished, to his dying hour; and probably not one of all his numerous
acquaintances doubted that, at his death, he entered into the rest that reraaineth
for the people of God Very respectfully yours,
JOHN M. WHITON.
JOSHUA BATES, D. D *
1802—1854.
Joshua Bates was a descendant, in tlio sixth generation, from Clement
]?ates, who was born in England in 1592, came to this country about the
year 1636, and settled at Hingham, ]\Iass., where he died in 1671. He
was a son of Zealous and Abigail (Nichols) Bates, and was born at Cohas-
set, formerly a part of the township of Hingham, on the 20th of March,
1776. His father was a farmer in moderate circumstances, and also kept a
small store : and both his parents were exemplary professors of religion.
He remained in his father's family till the time of his entering College,—
employed partly on the farm, and partly in the store. All the instruction
• Memoranda from Dr. Bates.
Vol. II. 59
4(3G TIMNITAKIAN' CONvlUKGATIONAL.
which he received was i:i a jirivatc female, i^cliool, alxnit tlivee '.uonths of the
year, till the age of eight or ten ; au'l after that, two or three months each
year in a public school, till he reached the age of sixteen or seventeen. At
that period, he conceived the project of obtaining a liberal education, and
commenced the study of the English and Latin Grammar under the instruc-
tion of the Congregational minister of the place, the llev. Josiah C. Shaw.
But he was interrupted in his studies by being obliged to work on the farm,
and attend to the business of the store, a portion of the time, till he had
entered his twentieth year. Even then he found difficulties in carrying into
execution his rather secretly cherished purpose of obtaining a collegiate
education, as his father had a large family, and did not feel able to meet the
expense. His desire, however, was irrepressible; and rather than relin-
quish the ol)ject, and for the sake of obtaining the means of support, he
engaged, after being prepared for College, in teaching a select school. His
connection with this school continued one year ; and in the mean time he
pursued the studies of the Freshman class at Cambridge, noting all the
difficulties which he could not surmount, and going, once in two or three
weeks, to Hingham, to obtain the assistance of the Rev. Henry Ware,
afterwards Professor at Cambridge, to enable him to surmount them.
Under all these disadvantages he persevered ; and was admitted to the
i^ophomore class in Harvard College, in the autumn of 1797, at the age of
twenty-one.
Through his whole collegiate course, his means of support were very
limited ; and he depended almost entirely upon his own exertions. He
taught a school during two of the winters, and attempted it the third,
but was prevented by a severe illness. But, notwithstanding all his embar-
rassment from this source, he uniformly held a high rank in his class, as
was sufficiently indicated by the fact that he graduated with the first
honour, — a distinction the more noticeable from his having had a large
number of eminent classmates, and among them the gifted and eloquent
Huckminstcr.
After graduating in the autumn of 1800, he became assistant teacher in
the Andover Phillips Academy, and at the same time commenced his theo-
logical studies under the direction of the Rev. Jonathan French. He held
his place as teacher for one year ; and after he resigned it, remained at
Andover, prosecuting his studies nearly another. He was licensed to
preach by the Andover Association in April, 1802. Shortly after, he
accepted an invitation to preach at Dedham, the result of which was, that
he was ordained there, on the 16th of March, 1803, the sermon on the
occasion being preached by the Rev. Jacob Flint* of Cohasset.
An occasion occurred in an early period of his ministry, which connected
him somewhat publicly with the then peculiar religious state of things in
>Ia.ssachusotts, while it furnished a fine ojiportunity for displaying his skill
in ecclesiastical dialectics. His friend and neighbour, the Rev. John Cod-
man of Dorchester, had become involved in a serious difficulty with his
people, in consequence of refusing to exchange pulpits with some of the
more liberal of the clergy in Boston and the vicinity. Mr. Bates, having
• jACon FnxT was Vorn in Readinp, Mass., in 1769 ; wai p-adnated at Harvard College in 1794 ; wac
ordained piis'or .)! ihe church in CohHoStl, January 10 1798 ; was dismissed in April, 1835 ; and died
October 1 1. Isi.'i a?ed sixtyeipht. He publiohed a History and description of Cohasset— Maps. Hist. Coll.
II. 3d series ; two Historical Discourses, 1821 : a I'lsrourse on the Doctrine of llie Trinity, 1824.
JOSHUA BATES. 467
been requested to act as his friend and adviser, conducted his cause before
two councils, ou both which occasions he won for himself " golden opin-
ions." Great as the difference of opinion was on the points at issue, it is
understood that there was no difference as to the consummate adroitness
and tact displayed by Mr. Bates ; and there is a tradition that the Hon.
Samuel Dexter, one of the greatest lights of the Bar at that period, who
was employed as counsel for the parish in opposition to Mr. Bates, remarked,
after hearing his argument, that he had acquitted himself with great honour,
and that his only regret was that his talents were not employed in a better
cause.
Here he continued labouring to great acceptance, and enjoying in a high
degree the respect and confidence of his people, fifteen years. There were
many circumstances which rendered this a pleasant settlement to him ; not
the least of which was, that it brought him into intimate relations with that
illustrious man, Fisher Ames, who was, at that time, an active member of
his parish. He evidently succeeded in gaining both the ear and the heart
of the great statesman; and, for several years preceding his death, he was
probably the best living witness to Ames' personal habits and intellectual
and moral qualities.
He resigned his charge at Dedham with a view to accept an appoint-
ment as President of Middlebury College. His induction to this office took
place in March, 1818. The same year he was honoured with the degree
of Doctor of Divinity from Yale College.
It was Dr. Bates' determination, when he accepted the Presidency of the
College, not to retain it beyond the age of sixty — circumstances occurred,
however, to induce him to remain a few years longer; and other circum-
stances subsequently occurred, to induce him to hasten his resignation. He
retired from the office at the age of sixty-four. Immediately after leaving
Middlebury, he set out to visit his daughters who resided in South Carolina;
and on stopping at Washington a few days, he was, through the influence
of some of his friends, chosen Chaplain to Congress. This detained him at
Washington till the close of the session ; and gave him an opportunity of
gratifying his intellectual tastes in various ways, particularly in making the
acquaintance of many of the most eminent men of the day. As soon as he
was at liberty, he proceeded to South Carolina, where he enjoyed a delight-
ful, though brief, visit witli his daughters, and the excellent friends among
whom he found them. On returning to the North, he preached first for two
months at I'ortland, Me. ; and afterwards for two years as a stated supply
at Northborough, Mass. On the 22d of March, 1843, just forty years from
the time of his ordination at Dedham, he was installed minister of the Con-
gregational church at Dudley, ]Ma?s.
In the summer of 1852, Dr. Bdtes suffered a slight attack of paralysis,
but he recovered from it in a short time, so as to be able to resume all his
accustomed labours. In October, 1853, he travelled as far West as Ohio,
partly to visit his children, and partly to attend the meeting of the Ameri-
can Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions; and, after an absence of
about a month, returned, highly gratified by both his journey and visit.
His health at this time was vigorous, his spirits buoyant, and his ability to
labour no way perceptibly impaired. A growing religious interest in his
congregation led to a considerable increase of his pastoral labours; and,
notwithstanding his advanced age, he was accustomed to hold meetings
468 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
almost every evening, and some of them in remote parts of his parish. Ho
received a slight injury, and took a severe cold, in consequence of th^
breaking of his vehicle, as he was on his way to make a pastoral visit
towards the close of December, 1853 ; and, within a few days, the disease
set in which terminated his life. He suffered excruciating pain ; but the
spirit of unqualified submission to God's will never forsook him. He died
on the l-4th of January, 1854, having almost completed his seventy-eighth
year.
On the 4th of September, 1804, he was married to Anna, daughter of
Deacon Jonathan Poor, of Andover, Mass. By this marriage he had thir-
teen children, two of whom died in infancy. Mrs. Bates died in the winter
of 1825-26. The next year, (1827,) he was married to Maria Sage Lati-
mer, of Middlebury, Vt., who was then residing with her sister in Prince-
ton, N. J. She was the mother of one daughter, and died in 1855.
All Doctor Bates' sons who have reached maturity, have been graduated
at Middlebury College, One is a clergyman, two are lawyers, and two are
or have been professional teachers.
The following is a list of Dr. Bates' publications : — Two Sermons on
Intemperance, preached on the day of the Annual Fast, 1813. A Sermon
preached at Boston before the Society for propagating the Gospel. &c.,
1813. A Sermon preached in Medfield, at the funeral of the Rev. Thomas
Prentiss, D. D., 1814. A Sermon preached at Boston before the Foreign
Mission Society of Boston and vicinity, 1816. A Sermon preached at Bos-
ton, before the Massachusetts Society for promoting Christian knowledge,
1816. A Sermon preached at the ordination of Rufus Hurlbut,* 1817.
A Sermon preached at the ordination of Federal Burt,t 1817. A Farewell
Discourse at Dedham, 1818. Inaugural Oration, pronounced at Middle-
bury, Vt., 1818. A Discourse on Honesty, delivered at Middlebury on the
Annual Fast, 1818. A Discourse delivered in Castleton at the organiza-
tion of the Vermont Juvenile Missionary Society, 1818. A Sermon
preached in Orwell, Vt., at the ordination of Ira Ingraham, 1821. A Ser-
mon preached in Pittsford, Vt., at the first annual meeting of the North
Western Branch of the American Education Society, 1821. A Sermon
preached at Montpelier, before the Executive Government and Legislature
of Vermont, on the day of General Election, 1821. A Sermon preached
at Northampton, Mass., before the American Board of Commissioners for
Foreign Missions, 1825. A Sermon preached in Castleton, Vt., at the
ordination of Joseph Steele, 1829. A Lecture on Moral Education, deliv-
ered at Worcester, Mass., before the American Institute of Instruction,
1836. A Lecture on Intellectual Education, delivered at Providence, R. I.,
before the American Institute of Instruction, 1840. A Sermon preached
in Woodstock, Conn., at the installation of the Rev. J. Curtis, 1846. A
volume of Lectures on Christian character, 1846. A Sermon on " Spiritual
Conversion," published in the "American Pulpit," 1847. A Discourse on
the character, public services, and death of John Quincy Adams, 1848.
An Address delivered at the Semi-Centennial Anniversary of Middlebury
•Rupus Hurlbut was born at Southampton, Mass., April 21, 1787; was graduated at Har-
vard College in 1813; was ordained pastor of the church in Sudbury, Mass., February 26, 1817-
and died in 1839.
t Federal Burt was born at Southampton, Mass., in 1789; was graduated at Williams
College in 1812; was ordained as pastor of the church in Durham, N, H., June 18, 1817; and
iied February 29, 1829, aged thirty-nine.
JOSHUA BATES. 4g9
College, 1850. An Anniversary Discourse at Dudley, with topographical
and historical notices of the town, 1853, Reminiscences of Dr. Codman,
1853.
FROM THE HON. LEMUEL SHAW,
CHIEF JUSTICE OF THE SUPREME COURT OF MASSACHUSETTS.
Boston, July 17, 1854.
Dear Sir: I have been prevented by an unusual pressure of engagements from
replying sooner to your letter of February 28th, asking for my reminiscences of
our late lamented friend, Dr. Bates. I do not suppose that I can afford you any
very efficient aid in performing so grateful a duty as that which you propose;
but I am more than willing to show mj^ good will in the case; and I shall be glad
if what I shall say will be of any use to you, and regret only that it is not in my
power to do more.
Mr. Bates entered our class at Cambridge, at the beginning of the first term of
the Sophomore year, — of course one year in advance. He was then about nine-
teen years of age. He appeared to have a vigorous constitution, with powers of
body and mind mature and well developed, capable of close attention to study
and long sustained mental exertion.
He took a high stand in the class as a scholar, and maintained it through his
College life. He was remarkable for diligence, and industry, and constant atten-
tion to all the prescribed exercises and duties of the College, in their due time and
regular order, not neglecting them for any supposed superior advantage to be
derived from general reading, or any other more agreeable pursuits. His plan
and purpose seemed to be deliberately formed, and faithfully pursued, to do
thoroughly and completely the duty before him, and not to leave a subject until
he had mastered if,, if it nniild be done by any means within his power. He was
distinguished then, as I think he was in after iifr, r-ather for .sound judgment and
good common sense, than for brilliancy of mental powers. Of course he was not
hasty in his judgments, or fanciful in his views; his opinions were adopted only
after deliberate reflection, and on well considered grounds, and consequently were
not easily abandoned or changed. The character of his mind, as it appears to
me, was very much the same during his college life, as I suppose it was after-
wards in the course of liis professional caix-er, — always considerate and discreet in
forming and maintaining his opinions, frank and sincere in expressing them, but
moderate and candid in his judgments.
At Commencement he had the closing English Oration, which was considered
the highest academic honour of that time. The Oration, as I see by an account
of Commencement which I have before me, was upon " The progress of refinement."
Some persons thought that, as a writer and orator, Buckminster surpassed him;
and he probably did; for, as you know, he afterwards proved himself to be a man
of rare and extraordinary genius. Buckminster, however, was very young, and
had hardly had an opportunity to display the extent and lustre of his talents.
But Bates was a good scholar in .all departments, exemplary in his deportment,
without meanness or subserviency, had made the best use of his capacity and
opportunities, and was therefore in every respect a graduate fit to be held up to
young men as a pattern scholar.
After Mr. Bates left College, I was not in a situation to meet him often, or
associate much with him; but T was accustomed to see him almost every year, —
sometimes several times a year, and observe his course of life and various changes,
and uniformly maintained the kindest and most friendly personal relations with
him, which terminated only with his life.
I am, my dear Sir, with very high respect,
Your obedient servant,
LEMUEL SHA"W.
470
TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
I
FROM THE REV. EDWIN HALL, D. D.
NoRWALK, Conn., September 18, 1854.
Dear Sir; You ask me for some reminiscences of my revered instructor, the late
President Bates. The first strong impression which I received from him, was of
his imposing personal presence. 1 had gone on to enter College at the Commence-
ment in 1822. The President was pointed out to me, as he was passing from his
residence to the old East College. I was struck with his athletic and manly
form, his erect and vigorous gait, his cheerful countenance, and evidently buoyant
spirits. He had then been four years at the head of the College, was in his full
strength, and immensely popular. At evening prayers, I was struck with his
manner of reading the Scriptures. lie had the advantage of a clear, ringing voice;
his articulation was beautifully distinct — not a letter or syllable was lost; his modu-
lations were varied so naturally, and with such admirable adaptation, and his
emphasis was so discriminating, as to render his reading an impressive commen-
tary.
One striking trait in his character as President was his unfailing punctuality.
He almost always officiated at morning prayers; and rain or shine, or whether
before the dawn in winter or tlirough the drifts of untrodden snow. President
Bates was ever sure to cross the threshold of the chapel at the appointed moment;
or if he failed to come, we noted it as something remarkable, and were certain that
there was a sufficient cause. His intercourse with the students, so far as it fell under
my observation or within my experience, was ever kind and encouraging. It all
went to make them feel the obligations of duty, to teach them to do right sind fear
not; to be energetic, self-reliant, and hopeful. How often in after years h.ave 1
thought of this characteristic of President Bates as an excellency in an instructer,
more important even than eminence in learning, or than any amount of skill in
mere intellectual training.
In the recitation room he was a very efficient instructer. I never knew him to
be severe or overbearing, yet seldom was one of the class willing to come before
him a second time poorly prepared. His eye would kindle with pleasure at a
scholar-like recitation; his countenance, expressive of disappointment and grief,
was an effectual rebuke to the unfaithful student. At each recitation, one of the
class was always called on at random to give an abstract of the previous lesson;
stating its connection with what preceded, and marking distinctly and in order
each particular principle, illustration, argument, or inference. In Locke, in Paley,
in Stuart, or in Brown, this was not difficult. It was not so easy to state in more
concise expressions the substance of Butler's Analogy, without omitting any
thing material. Happy was the student who could give such an abstract of the
preceding lesson as to leave no omission to be inquired after, nothing redundant
to be pruned olF, no part so out of proportion as to need to be reduced to its pro-
per relations, or to be ]>rought forward into more conspicuous light.
His suggestions, on giving out themes for writing, were of great practical use to
us at that time, to teach us how to set about the work, and how to overcome the
difficulties which students so commonly feel in this department of labour.
" Think — study," said he; " if you please, sketch down some heads of thought
that open to you; leave it; and when other thoughts strike you, sketch them
down. You will be surprised to find how the matter will open to you, as you
reflect, and as one thought suggests another. "When the time comes to write,
then sit down and push ahead. If your beginning docs not please you, no mat-
ter; push forward; and in the glow of labour your thoughts Avill move more
briskly; new matter will press upon you; very likely j-ou will be surprised to
find how much better you have been able to do than you expected. As to
figures and embellishments, be not troubled about thera; seek not for them;
JOSHUA BATES. 471
they will come naturally and fast enough, when your mind is awake; and when
they come, use them. Be sure to begin your work early enough to have a few
days to spare after the first draught ; then correct and rewrite the whole with
as much care as you are able."
In the religious welfare of the College, President Bates took a deep interest.
In the precious revival which took jjlace in the College in 1825, his labours and
influence were altogether such as became the head of the institution and a minis-
ter of Christ. In one word, after the lapse of nearly thirty years, in looking back
upon the happy years which I spent in Middlebury College, my recollections of
President Bates, and my estimate of his character, are such as will cause me
ever to revere his memor3^ He was an able instructer, a successful Presi-
dent, an efficient labourer in the vineyard of Christ. lie rests from his labours
and his works do follow him.
With much esteem, yours truly,
EDWIN HALL.
FROM THE HON. WILLIAM L. MARCY,
SECRETARY AT WAR, SECRETARY OF STATE, &C.
Washington, June 23, 1856.
My dear Sir: Though I am every way disposed to comply with your request,
I fear that my knowledge of the subject to which it relates, is too limited to
enable me to say any thing that will be of use to you. Xearly half a century
ago, when Dr. Bates was a young man, and I a mere boy, I had some acquaint-
ance with him. He was then the minister of Dedham, and enjoyed a very high
reputation as a popular and effective preacher. 1 had not, at that time, heard so
eloquent and impressive a speaker as he then was, and I shared very liberally
in the admiration of him Avhich so generally prevailed in that region. I well
remember to have heard it spoken of as a matter of regret, if not of complaint,
on the part of his parishioners, that they were so often disappointed in respect to
hearing him, on account of the frequent exchanges which he was in the habit of
making with other clergymen. Besides being admired as a preacher, he was
much esteemed as a man. He possessed great general intelligence, was urbane
and gentlemanly in his manners, amiable and social in his disposition, and so far
as I knew, a model of all the Christian virtues.
After .so many years had elapsed that I had passed the meridian of life, and
Dr. Bates had reached its evening, I had the pleasure of meeting him again. He
was then the minister of Dudley; and I had the privilege of again hearing him
preach. Thirtj^ or forty years had probably wrought some change in his charac-
ter as a preacher, and doubtless more in my judgment on that subject. His
manner, though certainly dignified and impressive, had lost the exquisite charm
with which either my memory or imagination had invested it, as it was in the
days of my youth. He seemed to me, as might indeed naturally have been
expected, to have lost much of the fervour of his earlier years, and to rely chiefly
for effect upon his weighty and well digested views of Christian truth. I need
not tell you that, to the close of life, he was honoured for his intelligence, wis-
dom, and piety, and that he left behind him a name that will continue fragrant
for generations to come.
I am, with great respect.
Your obedient servant,
W. L. MARCY.
472 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
CALEB JEWETT TENNEY, D. D *
1802—1847.
Caleb Jewett Tenney, the son of William and Phoebo Tonney, was
born in Hollis, N. H., May 3, 1780. His great-grandfather, William Ten-
ney, came from Rowley in England, and was one of the first settlers in
Rowley, Mass. His parents and their progenitors sustained a highly reputa-
ble standing in society, and were particulaidy distinguished for an elevated
Christian character. His father was a deacon of the church in IloUi.s, N. H.,
as his grandfather and great-grandfather had been of the church in Rowley.
When he was twelve or fourteen years old, he had two very narrow
escapes from death, and shortly after became the subject of strong religious
impressions, which, however, continued bat a short time. At the age of
sixteen, he commenced his preparation for College at an Academy in his
native place. A revival occurred there shortly after, in which he became
hopefully a sharer, having had his attention awakened by reading one of
President Davics' Sermons. He now made a profession of religion, and his
whole subsequent life demonstrated its sincerity.
In September, 1797, at the age of seventeen, he became a member of
Dartmouth College. He seems to have been, from the beginning, deeply
sensible of the temptations incident to a college life, and to have set him-
self resolutely and earnestly to resist them. The result was that he main-
tained a most exemplary Christian character, while, at the same time, he
ranked among the first in his class as a scholar. He graduated in 1801, in
the same class with Daniel Webster.
He pursued his theological studies under the direction, partly of Dr.
Burton of Thetford, and partly of Dr. Spring of Newburyport, and was
licensed to preach by a Committee of the Grafton Association, New Hamp-
shire, on the 20 Lh of August, 1802. Soon after, he had a very severe
illness which, for a time, put his life in great jeopardy, and occasioned a
suspension of his labours for six months. This event seems to have been
the means of greatly increasing his spirituality, and to have been regarded
by himself as marking an epoch in his Christian life.
In July, 1803, he received an invitation to preach at Danvers, Mass., and
also at Newport, R. I., to the congregation of which Dr. Hopkins, then
very aged and infirm, was pastor. After preaching two Sabbaths at Danvers,
he went to Newport, — having engaged, however, to return to Danvers, after
six or eight Sabbaths. Both congregations were desirous that he should
become their pastor ; but he ultimately decided in favour of the one at New-
port, and was ordained there on the I'itli of September, 1804, — Dr. Hopkins
having died at the close of the preceding year. His ordination sermon was
preached by the Rev. Dr. Burton. A revival of great interest took place
almost immediately after the commencement of his labours there as a candi-
date, and before the death of Dr. Hopkins, — an event in which the venerable
old man greatly rejoiced, and which seemed to make it easier for him to die.
At the time of Mr. Tenney's settlement in Newport, several circumstances
concurred to render that place an unpromising field of ministerial labour.
From the period of the Revolution, the town had been in a state of decay, ^
• MSS. from his daughter and Rev. Dr. T ler.
CALEB JEWETT TENNEY. 473
and its population had for many years been decreasing. The state of reli-
gion, up to the time of his commencing his labours there, had been exceed-
ingly low. Many were engaged in the African slave trade ; and avowed
infidelity in high places is said to have been more common than in any other
town of equal size in New England. The church had in it a few eminently
pious females, but most of them were in the decline of life ; and, even after the
addition that was made to it at the commencement of Mr. Tenney's ministry,
there were but few except females in either the church or the congregation.
He evinced great self-denial in consenting to settle under so many adverse
and embarrassing circumstances ; but the event fully justified his determina-
tion ; for, through his instrumentality, the church which had seemed on the
point of extinction, was not only preserved in existence, but considerably
enlarged and strengthened.
Mr. Tenney continued his labours here during a period of ten years. In
May, 1814, he resigned his pastoral charge, in the midst of many regrets
on the part of his people, on account of the failure of his health. Late in
the autumn of 1815, he received an invitation to preach in Wethersfield,
Conn.; and, after supplying the pulpit a few Sabbaths, he was invited to settle
as colleague pastor with the Rev. Dr. Marsh. He accepted the call, — not
however without serious apprehensions that his health would prove inade-
quate to the amount of labour required by so large a parish, —and was
installed on the 27th of March, 1816.
Mr. Tenney and his aged colleague lived in great harmony with each
other, notwithstanding there are understood to have been some shnrlps of
difi"ercnce in their religious opinions. T)\-. Marsh died in 1821 ; after which,
Mr. Tenney reni'iluod sole pastor of the church for about twelve years, —
enjoying in a high degree, not only the affection of his own people, but the
respect and confidence of the whole surrounding community. His labours
were attended at different periods with a remarkable blessing. In 1820-21,
two hundred persons, of whom seventy-nine were heads of families, were
added to his church as the fruit of a revival. Another revival occurred in
1831, which numbered about one hundred hopeful subjects, and among them
several of his own children.
In 1829, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from
Yale College.
About the close of the year 1831, he became afflicted with a dilficulty in
the organs of speech, which eventually resulted in the almost entire loss of
his voice, and compelled him in 1833 to desist trom preaching altogether.
•Such, however, was the attachment of his people, that they insisted on
retaining him as their pastor, and he accordingly continued in that relation
until 1810, when his regard to their interests impelled him to resign his
charge. He was accordingly dismissed, and removed with his family first to
Springfield, Mass., and in 1812 to Northampton, where he made his home
during the rest of his life.
Dr. Tenney, while residing in Connecticut, exerted an important influence
in ecclesiastical and theological afi'airs, and had a prominent agency in
establishing the Theological Seminary at East Windsor. While thus
engaged, he accepted in 1840 an agency for the American Colonization
Society ; and, after closing his services in behalf of the East Windsor Semi-
nary, in June, 1843, he was appointed agent for the Massachusetts Coloni-
zation Society, and gave himself wholly to the work. His labours in this
Vol. II. 60
474 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
cause were cmiacntly successful, and continued almost to bis last hour. On
Sunday, September 19, 1847. he preached on Colonization at North Amherst
and Leverctt, and on the two following dayy was in his usual health. He
Avas then attacked with a violent fever, which immediately brought him to
Ids bed ; and though the fever quickly subsided, his strength was gone, and
his constitution had too little vigour left to rally. He fell into a comatose
state which was scarcely interrupted until Tuesday morning, Septeniber 28th,
when he folded his hands, as if conscious of his condition, and breathed out
his spirit without a struggle. His funeral was attended at the Edwards
Church, Northampton, and a sermon preached on the occasion by the Rev.
Dr. Tucker of Wethersfield.
He was mai-ried in September, 1809, to Ruth, daughter of John Channing
of Newport, — a lady of fine mind and devoted pioty, who graced the posi-
tion, difficult as it was, of a pastor's wife in her native town. Thoy had six
children, — four sons and two daughters. Mrs. Tenney died in Northampton,
September 5, 1842.
Dr. Tenney published two Discourses on Baptism ; a Sermon at the ordi-
nation of Royal Robbins, 1816 ; a Sermon on the death of Rev. Dr. Marsh,
1821 ; a Thanksgiving Sermon, 1827 ; a Sermon on the death of Rev. Dr.
Samuel Austin, 1830 ; a Sermon on the death of Rev. Alfred Mitchell, 1831.
I had the pleasure of an- acquaintance with Dr. Tenney from about the
time of his settlement at Wethersfield till the close of his life. His personal
appearance was hardly in keeping with the character of his mind. In stature
he scarcp.ly reached the medium ; and the expression of his counteuance,
though quiet and thoughtful, was not indicative of any extraordinary power.
Whon I first met him, he seemed reserved, — almost, distant; but, as my
acquaintance with him advanced, I found him social and cordial, and evidently
possessing great depth and tenderness of feeling. And he not only felt
deeply, but thought deeply — no one could fail to see that he had trained
himself to nice discrimination and patient inquiry : though he conversed
with great deliberation, and was uncommonly modest and retiring in his
manner, he had always appropriate and weighty thoughts at command,
especially on subjects of a theological or religious character. I think he
was characteristically grave in all his deportment. I have heard that in his
family he was a model of every thing lovely in domestic character, and that
at the beds of the sick and dying nothing could exceed the tenderness and
appropriateness of his ministrations. In looking back upon my intercourse
with him, I am deeply impressed with the idea that he possessed a princely
intellect, which, on account of his great modesty, was never fully appreciated.
FROM THE REV. BENNETT TYLER, D. D.
Theological Seminary, East "Windsor Hill, May IG, 1856.
My dear Sir: Dr. Tenney was a man of modest pretensions, and was not very
extensively known; but by those who did know him he was very highly esteemed.
1 had but little personal acquaintance with him, till after he became unable to
preach; but, during a few of the last years of his life, my acquaintance with him
was somewhat intimate. After his death, I had the privilege of looking over his
papers, which not only confirmed, but enhanced, the high estimate of his character
which I had previously formed.
lie Avas a profound theologian, and sound in the faith, according to the stand-
ard of orthodoxy among New England Congregationalists at the beginning of the
CALEB JEWETT TENNEY. 475
present century: in other words, he belonged to the same school with Edwards,
Bellamy, Dwight, and Smalley.
He was one of the most impressive preachers that I ever heard; but he excelled
luure in the composition than in the delivery of sermons. Many of his discour-
ses were well worthy of being published; and they would bear an honourable
comparison with those of some of his contemporaries who were greatly in advance
of him in respect to popularity. They were characterized by richness of matter,
lucid arrangement, thorough discussion, and a faithful application of the truth
to the hearts and consciences of his hearers. They were deej^ly imbued
with evangelical sentiment; though he never preached the doctrines of the
Gospel as matters of mere speculation, but as truths in which his hearers had
the deepest personal interest.
His manner in the pulpit, though not what would usually be considered
attractive, was always solemn and earnest. It was rather affectionate than bold
and forcible. No one could doubt that the truths which came from his lips, came
also from his inmost heart. The interest which his discourses awakened,
was not of an evanescent but of a substantial and enduring character.
As a pastor, he was eminently faithful. He had a vivid sense of the responsi-
bility which rested upon him as a minister of Christ; and he watched for souls
as one who expected to give an account. He was also uncommonly judicious and
discreet. The circumstances in which he was placed, both in Newport and in
AVethcrsfield, called for the exercise of great practical wisdom, and I know not
that a case of serious indiscretion on his part can be specified as having occurred
ill either place. All who were intimately acquainted with him, regarded him as
possessing, in a high degree, that wisdom that dwells with prudence.
But the great excellency of his character was his deep and ardent piety. It
is evident from his uniform deportment that be lived habitually under the influ-
ence of the fear of God. His diary, which is quite voluminous, I have had the
privilege of examining; and I am sure no one can read it witliont coming to the
conclusion that his attainments in piety were much beyond those of ordinary
Christians. His life was " an epistle known and read of all men."
Very truly yours,
BENNETT TYLER.
MOSES STUART *
1804—1852.
Moses Stuart, the son of Isaac and Olive Stuart, was born at "Wilton,
Conn., March 26, 1780. His father, who was himself a farmer, intended
that the son should be one also ; and no other purpose was formed in respect
to his destination for life, until he had reached the age of fourteen. He
began very early to develop a taste for books and a fine imaginative genius ;
and when he was but four years old, he read with great eagerness a book
of popular ballads. At twelve, he read Edwards on the Will, and read it
intelligently and with the deepest intere.'it. In his fifteenth year, he was
sent to an Academy at Norwalk, Conn., merely with a view to his perfecting
himself in the English branches ; but his preceptor, quickly discovering his
remarkable powers, urged him to prepare for College. He immediately
• Park's Fun. Senn. — Adams' do.
476 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
commenced the study of Latin, and in three days he had so mastered the
grammar that he had a phice assigned him in a class who had been studying
the language for several months. While he was engaged upon Latin and
Greek, he studied French also ; and his proficiency in every branch was
such as to excite and justify the highest expectations in regard to his future
course.
In May, 1797, he entered the Sophomore class of Yale College. At this
period, his tastes were pre-eminently for the mathematics ; but there was no
branch of learning that he was disposed to overlook. His whole college
course was marked by the most earnest and successful devotion to study,
and he graduated in the year 1799, with the highest honours of his class.
The year after his graduation he spent in teaching an Academy in North
Fairfield, Conn. ; and, during a part of the year following, he was Principal
of a High school in Danbury. Here he commenced the study of the Law ;
and soon after relinquished his school and devoted himself to the Law alto-
gether. He was admitted to the Bar in 1802, at Danbury.
A week previous to this, he was chosen Tutor in Yale College. He
accepted the office, and continued to perform its duties from the autumn of
1802 to that of 1804. But, in an early period of his Tutorship, his mind
was withdrawn from his favourite study, — the Law, by being excited to
attend to his own immortal interests. Wishing one day to procure some
appropriate book for the Sabbath, he borrowed of President Dwight a
volume of McKnight on the Epistles. Though at first he read it for mere
literary gratification, yet, as he proceeded, he came to regard the truth in
its high practical bearings, and finally, after a season of severe conflict,
bowed both his intellect and his heart, as he believed, to the teachings of
the Holy Spuit. He became connected with the church in Y'^ale College,
early in the year 1803.
Having now given up all idea of ever engaging in the practice of the
Law, he commenced his preparation for the ministry under the direction of
President Dwight. After reading a few of the most common works on
Theology, together with a part of Mosheim's Ecclesiastical History, and
of Prideaux' Connections, he was examined and licensed to preach by the
New Haven Association of ministers.
In the autumn of 1804, he travelled in Vermont for the benefit of his
health, and was invited to take the pastoral charge of the Congregational
church at Middlebury. Having declined this call, he subsequently supplied,
for some weeks, the pulpit of the llev. Dr. Dana of New Haven, and, at
a still later period, that of the Bev. Dr. Bogers of New York. His
preaching at New Haven was highly acceptable to the people, but not so to
the aged pastor ; and the result was that Dr. Dana was dismissed, and Mr.
Stuart was chosen his successor with only five dissenting votes. He accepted
the call, and was ordained on the 5th of March, 1806.
Mr. Stuart's ministry in New Haven marked an epoch in the history of
the church of which he was pastor. A new interest was at once awakened
on the subject of religion, an extensive revival ensued, and during the
three years and ten months of his pastorate, two hundred persons were
admitted to the communion of the church, only twenty-eight of whom were
received by letter from other churches.
Mr. Stuart's popularity as a preacher was well nigh unrivalled, not only
in New Haven but throughout New England, when the application was
MOSES STUART. 477
made to him to accept the Professorship of Sacred Literature at Andover, as
successor to the Rev. Dr. Pearson, who had held the ofiice but a single year.
Though he felt himself at the time utterly unqualified for the place, having
scarcely begun to direct his attention to the study of Hebrew, yet, in reli-
ance on the blessing of God, in connection with his own diligent efforts, he
accepted the appointment, and was inaugurated Professor on the 28th of
February, 1810.
Professor Stuart continued in the active discharge of the duties of his
oihce, producing not unfrequently works of a very high order, until 1848,
when he resigned his Professorship, in consequence of the infirmities of
advancing age. After this, however, his mind retained its wonted activity,
and he published two or three works which must have been the result of
minute and profound biblical investigation. His life had a somewhat abrupt
termination. As he was taking his daily walk, he fell in the street, and
fractured the bone of his wrist. The pain and confinement which this occa-
sioned, rendered him unable to withstand a severe cold, which subsequently
came upon him, and passing into a typhoid fever, quickly put an end to his life.
During his illness, his mind was, part of the time, clear and active, and his
interest in matters of public concern seemed unabated. When his physician
expressed to him the hope that his sickness was not unto death, he replied
"Unto the glory of God — hut unto death." He expressed no det^ire to
live longer, except for the sake of his family, and the execution of a work
which he had projected in his favourite department of study. He died a
little before twelve o'clock, on Sabbath night, January 4, 1852, in the
seventy-second year of his age. A Discourse was preached at his funeral
by the Rev. Dr. Park ; and another Discourse commemorative of his life
and character, was subsequently preached in New York, by the Rev. Dr.
William Adams, at the request of the Alumni of the Seminary, residing in
and about that city. Both Discourses were published.
Professor Stuart was married, about 1806, to Abigail, daughter of James
and Hannah (Stoddard) Clark, of Danbury, Conn. They had nine children,
— four sons and five daughters. Three of the sons have been graduated at
Yale College. Two of them entered the legal profession, and the third,
that of medicine. The second daughter was married to Professor Phelps
of the Theological Seminary at Andover, and died greatly lamented on the
30th of November, 1852. She had a place among the most gifted female
writers of her day. Mrs. Stuart died on the 4th of September, 1855.
The following is a list of Professor Stuart's publications : — A Sermon at the
ordination of Thomas Punderson,* 1809. Two Sermons, one preached before
the administration of the Lord's Supper, the other on resigning his pastoral
charge, 1810. A Grammar of the Hebrew language without points, 1813.
A Sermon before the Salem Female Charitable Society, 1815. A Sermon
at the ordination of Messrs. Pliny Fisk, Levi Spaulding, Miron Winslow,
and Henry Woodward,! 1819. Letters to the Rev. William E. Channing,
containing Remarks on his Sermon, recently preached and published at
Baltimore, 1819. A Sermon occasioned by the completion of the new
• Thomas Punderson was a native of New Haven, Conn. ; was graduated at Yale College
in 1804; was ordained pastor of the Second church in Pittsfield, Mass., October 26, 1809; was
dismissed May 5, 1817; was installed at Huntington, Conn., in 1818; and died in 1848.
t Henry Woodward, the son of Professor Eezaleel Woodward, was a native of Hanover,
N. H.; was graduated at Dartmouth College in 1815; studied Theology at the Theological
Seminary at Princeton; went as a missionary to the East in 1819; and died in 1834.
478 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
edifice for the use of the Theological Seminary at Andovcr, 1821. Disser-
tations on the importance and best method of studying the Original lan-
guages of the Bible by Jahn and others, accompanied with notes by Professor
Stuart, 1821. A Grrammar of the Hebrew language with points, 1821.
Letters to Dr. Miller on the Eternal Generation of the Son of Grod, 1822.
Elements of Interpretation, translated from the Latin of J. A. Ernesti, and
accompanied by notes, &c., by Professor Stuart, 1822. Two Discourses
on the Atonement, 1824. Winer's Greek Grammar of the New Testament,
— translated by Professors Stuart and Robinson, 1825. Christianity, a
distinct religion : A Sermon preached at the dedication of the Hanover
church, Boston, 1826. Election Sermon, 1827. Commentary on the
Episde to the Hebrews: Two vols. 8vo., 1827-28. Hebrew Christomathy,
1829. A brief Sketch of the life and character of Mrs. Elizabeth Adams,
1829. Practical Rules for Greek accents, 1829. An Examination of the
Strictures on the American Education Society in a late No. of the Biblical
Repertory, 1829. Course of Hebrew study, 1830. Essay on the question
whether the use of distilled liquors or traffic in them is compatible, at the
present time, with making a profession of Christianity, 1830. Letters to
Dr. Channing on Religious Liberty, 1830. A Sermon at the ordination of
William G. Schauffler, a missionary to the Jews, 1831. - A Commentary
on the Epistle to the Romans, 1832. The mode of Christian Baptism pre-
scribed in the New Testament, 1833. Cicero on the immortality of the soul,
1833. A Grammar of the New Testament dialect : 2d edition, improved,
1884. Notes to Hug's Introduction to the New Testament, 1836. Hints
on the Prophecies: 2d. edition, 1842. Commentary on the Apocalypse. 2
vols. 8 vo., 1845. Critical History and Defence of the Old Testament Canon.
1845. A Sermon on the Lamb of God, 1846. A Translation of Roediger's
Gesenius, 1846. A Sermon at the funeral of Mrs. Woods, 1846. A Let-
ter to the Editor of the North American Review on Hebrew Grammar, 1847.
A Scriptural view of the Wine question, 1848. A Commentary on Daniel,
1850. Conscience and the Constitution, 1851. A Commentary on Eecle-
siastes, 1851. A Commentary on Proverbs, 1852.
FROM THE REV. CALVIN E. STOWE, D. D.,
PROFESSOR IN THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY AT ANDOVER.
Andover, September 1, 1854.
Rev. and dear Sir: You ask me to give you my personal recollections of Pro-
fessor Stuart. I have no objection except that no written account of him, from
my pen, can do justice to the subject. He was a man emphatically sui generis;
and, to one who has never seen him, no description can convey the exact idea of
the original. I think I can say that I knew the man, for I was on terms of inti-
macy with him for more than a quarter of a century — he was for many years
my beloved teacher and confidential adviser, and I was, for a long time, an
inmate of his family. I will endeavour to put my ideas of him into language as
nearly as I can, though without any very sanguine expectation of satisfying
either myself or you.
Professor Stuart was a man designed by Providence for the accomplishment
of a great and special work. lie was raised up at the time the Avork was needed,
and was particularly qualified to do it. God gives no superfluous accomplish-
ments, nor does He fit an}^ one man equally for all kinds of tasks, but usually
limits the capabilities to the particular purpose intended. A man who, in his
generation, does one good thing, and does it well, has reason to be thankful to
MOSES STUART. 479
Providence, even though there may be many other things which he cannot do.
Mr. Stuart's vocation was to call back the Bible, the genuine, original Bible, in
its true interpretation, into the Theology of the Anglo-Saxon nations. This
great work he did — nobly and eflectually he accomplished it; and it was task
enough for any one man. He was greatly honoured of God in having such a
task assigned him, and receiving the qualifications and opportunities for its accom-
plishment; and, in turn, he honoured God by the diligence, zeal, fidelity, and
success with which he laboured.
Among the qualifications which Professor Stuart possessed for his work, must
be reckoned his ardent love of study, his voracious appetite for knowledge. It
was a hunger that was never satisfied, a desire that was only increased by indul-
gence. His mind never wearied, and the only thing that set limits to his efibrts
and acquisitions, was the absolute inability of the body to perform its part
towards satisfying the yearnings of the mind. The soul never gave out, the
brain and the nerves often. This appetite never ceased. To the last days of his
life, he was as eager to catch a new thought, as a starving man is to seize the
morsel of food that is within his reach.
Again, he was as earnest to communicate as he was to acquire. The pleasure
of attaining was no greater than the pleasure of imparting — naj^, he found it even
more blessed to give than to receive. The lecture room was his paradise, and
the circle of admiring pupils his good angels. The delight was mutual. It was
thus that he inspired the same enthusiasm which he felt himself. It was won-
derfully contagious.
He was very independent and self-relying. His step never faltered because he
was walking alone, and he never stopped because others were busy to obstruct
his way. He knew very well his own position; and, so far as his appropriate
business was concerned, he had more confidence in his own judgment than in
the judgment of others. Had he been less self-confident, and had he more fre-
quently consulted others, his conclusions would have been more uniformly accu-
rate, and his style more concise and agreeable; but probably, in that case, he
would have been disqualified for the rough and hard labour so necessary in the
beginning of his career. The pioneer woodsman cannot wear silk gloves, nor
measure all his footsteps, for the sake of preserving an agreeable and genteel exte-
rior for the admiration of spectators.
He was systematically and intensely laborious. No man ever practised a
more rigid economy in regard to time, and no man ever schooled himself to a
more diligent and conscientious application to hard, downright study. The
intensity of his application was such that the physical powers could not sustain
it more than four hours in the twenty-four; but these four hours came every day,
and his power of accomplishment was amazing. He would write pages while a
more formal man would be adjusting his spectacles and nibbing his pen. Not a
moment of the four hours was lost in trifling; not a moment was exempt from
real, haid, productive labour; the least possible amount of time was consumed
in revising or correcting; and though he often wrote, and re-wrote, and wrote
again, on some topics, at different periods, with seven or eight repetitions, yet it
was never deliberately or easily, but always in the same impulsive, energetic,
hard-working, steam engine sort of way. Hence the amount that he accom-
pli.shcd was enormous; and hence too all his works were better fitted for the oral
instructions of the lecture-room, than for the printed page pondered in the
closet. His readers can never feel the kindling enthusiasm that was never want-
ing among his hearers. His writings abound with knowledge, they are rich in
information of the most varied kind; but the digressions, the repetitions, the ego-
tisms, the general want of compactness, wbich give vivacity to a lecture, rather
deaden the impression of a book. Professor Stuart's work was a work to be
done mainly in his lifetime, and by the energy of his personal presence. His
480 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
books will always be valuable for the stores of learning they contain, — they will
be exhauslless magazines for the supply of other minds; but they can never be
extensively popular. It is worthy of remark that his later writings, — those
that he elaborated after he had ceased to lecture, — such as his Commentaries on
Proverbs and Ecclesiastes, are much less liable to the above criticisms, than the
larger books which he composed in the acme of his strength and in the zenith of
his power and activity as a lecturer.
He was an honest and a generous man; intellectually and morally honest, and
impulsively generous. lie not only kindled the enthusiasm of his pupils and
gratified their utmost desire of knowledge, but he commanded their respect and
inspired them with confidence and alfection. They not only received the instruc-
tions of the richly endowed teacher, but they loved and trusted the hearty,
noble man.
lie loved Biblical science, his whole soul was devoted to it — more than his
meat and drink was his daily pursuit of it; and his merit was, not simply that
he introduced it into this country and most successfully cultivated it himself,
but that he was really the literary parent of nearly all, wherever the English
language is spoken, who have successfully cultivated it since. The department
was nothing when he began, and before he closed his career, it became the lead-
ing branch in all systems of theological culture, and mainly by his example and
efforts. Contrast the linguistic attainments of the ministry forty years ago and
now, if you would have an idea of the real value of Professor Stuart's labours
and influence. It is true that he has not done the work alone; but he did the
pioneering, without -which nothing could have been done; and not only the pion-
eering, but also a very large proportion of the subsequent labour.
He was a rapid and voluminous writer; but his published works, learned and
valuable as they are, probably did not cost him half the cfibrt, Avhich was neces-
sary, in the beginning of his career, to create even the first materials for study
in his department. Grammars, and reading-books, and even types, pres.se.'!
and printers, "were all called into being by his zeal and activity. He was not
called to this enterprise and encouraged in it by the popular voice; but for yearn
the popular voice was all against him; and it was not till he had fairly raised the
edifice, and proved its utility, that his labours were looked upon with favour by
those who were to reap the greatest benefit from them. His destiny in this
respect Avas not a singular one; for no man can ever engage in a new enterprise,
however useful and necessary it may be, without encountering the same kind of
ho.stility from the timid and the time-serving, the short-sighted and the bigoted.
It is only the men who have clearness of sight and strength of nerve to see
through such opposition and despise it, that are fit to do any thing more than
plod along in the beaten track in which all their neighbours are walking. This
i.s a very easy way of spending one's life: but new roads, from generation to gene-
ration, must continually be opened up; and blessed be God that He gives us men
with clear heads, and strong arms, and determined wills, and honest hearts, to
assume this arduous and thankless, but most necessary, task.
The exterior of Professor Stuart, — his person and manner, corresponded admi-
rably to his inner man. Tall, muscular, and lean; with a sharp and eager fiice,
a small, grey, sparkling eye; a countenance ever changing with every change of
inward emotion; his movements all abrupt, elastic, and full of vigour; and never
for a moment at rest; he gave one the imj)ression of an exuberance of life and
spirit, that could not possibly be concealed or restrained, but must find vent in
some way. There was an earnestness and heartiness in his manner, that wa.s
always childlike, and sometimes almost boisterous; and his excess of vitality
often flowed out in the oddest kind of gestures, w^hich, if not the most graceful,
never lacked expressiveness. Withal, he was very much of a gentleman, and
never rude or coarse; and, when the occasion called for it, his deportment was
I
MOSES STUART. 43J
of the most bland and polished type. Not a little of the interest of his lectures
depended on his perfectly unique, and inimitable, and indescribable manner in
the lecture-room. Who that has ever seen him lecturing, can ever forget the
picture .'' And who can ever reproduce it, so that others can see it at second
hand? I am, dear Sir, truly yours,
CALVIN E. STOWE.
THOMAS ABBOT MERRILL, D. D *
1805—1855.
Thomas Abbot Merrill was a descendant from Nathauiel Merrill,
who emigrated from England, and settled in Newbury, Mass., about the
year 1635. He was the eldest son of Thomas and Lydia (Abbot) Merrill,
and was born in Andover, Mass., January 18, 178U. When he was six
years old, his father removed with his family to Deering, N. H. ; and, as he
discovered an unusual fondness for books, his father gave him the best
advantages for study, which the district schools in that neighbourhood would
supply. He was fitted for College partly at the Andover Phillips Academy,
under Mr. Newman; partly under Mr. (afterwards the Kev. Dr.) Zephaniah
Swift Moore, then a candidate for the ministry ; and partly under the Rev.
(afterwards Dr.) Walter Harris of Dunbarton, N. H. In consequence of
excessive application to study, his health became somewhat impaired about
the time that he had completed his preparation for College ; though he was
able to join Dartmouth College at the Commencement in 1797.
He passed through College with an unsullied moral character, and, with
a reputation for t^cholarship, which was indicated by his receiving the first
honour in the class of which Daniel Webster was a member. On gradu-
ating in 1801, he was appointed Preceptor of the Academy in Hanover,
originally denominated Moor's Indian Charity School. Here he taught
successfully two years. In August, 1803, he was chosen Tutor in Dart-
mouth College. After he bad held tlie place one year, President Wheelock
proposed to him to remain and take a more advanced class ; but he had
already engaged to accept the Senior Tutorship in Middlebury College. Ou
entering upon his duties at Middlebury in September, 1804, he found mucr.
more devolved upon him than he had anticipated; being obliged, in conse-
(juence of some unexpected arrangement, to hear four, and sometimes five,
recitations a day. While at Hanover he had pursued a course of theologi-
cal study under the direction of Dr. ]>urton ; and he was licensed to preach
in January, 1805.
Shortly after his licensure, he and his colleague in the Tutorship, Mr.
Walter Chapin,t were requested to supply the vacant pulpit at Middlelniry ;
* Uoodhue's Fun. Scrm.
t Walter Chapin was born at West Springfield, Mass., in 1779; fitted for College at the
Westfield Academy; graduated at Middlebury College in 1803; was Preceptor of Koyalton
Academy in 1803-4; was Tutor in Middlebury College in 1804-5; studied Theology under tho
Rev. Dr. Lathrop of West Springfield; laboured for some time as a missionary in the Northern
part of Vermont; and was pastor of the Congregational church in AVuodstock, Vt., from 1810
till his death, .July 22, 1827. He was Secretary of the Vermont Domestic Missionary Society
seven years; a member of the Corporation of Middlebury College from 1S21 to 1827'. and Pre-
sident of the Associated Alumni at their organization in 1824. He was the first Alumnus of
Vol. IL Gi
482 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
and in August following he received a unanimous call to become the pastor
of the church. He was appointed Tutor for a second year, and officiated
as such for a few weeks ; but resigned the office, on accepting the invitation
to settle in the ministry. He was ordained December 19, 1805.
He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Middle-
bury College in 1837.
Dr. Merrill had a long, and for the most part an uncommonly prosperous,
ministry. Revivals of religion of greater or less power occurred among
his people in the years 1805, 1809, 1811, 1812, 1814, 1816, 1819, 1821,
1822, 1825, 1830, 1831, 1834, and 1835. As the fruit of each of these
revivals, considerable numbers, and of several of them, very large numbers,
were added to the church.
Dr. Merrill had a large share of public spirit, which he manifested by his
various efforts to promote the great interests of religion and humanity. In
1818, he had a primary agency in forming what is now the Vermont Domestic
Missionary Society. Of this Society he was chosen Secretary; and he held
the office until 1821, when he declined a re-election ; though he was con-
tinued one of the Trustees of the Committee of Missions till his death.
He was also specially active in forming the Vermont Peace Society in 1837,
and was President of the Peace Convention in Vermont in 1853. He
officiated as Moderator of the General Convention of Vermont nine times,
and in 1810 was appointed Register of that Body, which office he held till
the close of life.
Dr. Merrill was frequently requested to publish occasional Sermons, but
he almost uniformly declined. The only Sermons of his in print are a Ser-
mon preached before the Vermont Legislature, 1806 ; a Sermon before the
Vermont Domestic Missionary Society; and a Semi- Centennial Sermon,
delivered fifty years after the organization of the church of which he was
pastor. He Avas a liberal contributor to various periodicals, and some of
his articles were marked with signal ability, and attracted great attention.
During a few of the last years of his active pastorship, the number of
inhabitants in the town had diminished by removals, and there had been at
least a corresponding diminution of the number of his church members. In
connection with this state of things, there arose some dissatisfaction on the
part of a portion of the people with their pastor, which at length became
so serious as to threaten a very adverse result to the interests of the con-
gregation. Under these circumstances, Dr. Merrill asked to be released
from further ministerial duties, and proposed to relinquish his salary and
all claim to control in the affairs of the church and society, while he should
retain the nominal relation of senior pastor. The request was granted ;
and accordingly his labours as pastor in Middlebury ceased, October 19,
1842, almost thirty-seven years after his settlement.
About this time, the office of Treasurer of Middlebury College, and that
of Agent for raising funds for that institution, were tendered to him, which
he accepted. He resigned the agency at the end of two years ; but retained
the office of Treasurer till July, 1852. While prosecuting his agency, he
preached almost without interruption. For a time he supplied the pulpit
in Salisbury and Brandon ; and afterwards laboured regularly most of the
the Collegs admitted to a profession. lie publishefi a Sermon preached the Sabbath before an
execution, 1818; and a Missionary Gazetteer, lH2j. He edited the Evangelical Monitor from
1821 to 1824.
THOMAS ABBOT MERRILL. 483
time, for about ten years, with the church in Weybridge, distant from his
residence about three miles. His labours with that people ceased in Novem-
ber, 1854, a few months before his death.
Dr. Merrill had naturally a vigorous constitution, and, with few excep-
tions, enjoyed good health until 1846, when he took a violent cold from the
effects of which he never recovered. In the autumn of 1852, it was dis-
covered that his heart had become seriously diseased, so that it would be no
reasonable matter of surprise if his death should occur at any moment.
The last public service that he performed, was offering a funeral prayer on
the 16th of February, 1855. On the 11th of the next month, he made the
following entry in his diary : — " It appears impossible that my life should
be prolonged many weeks, — probably not many days : I cannot sleep except
as my head and shoulders are much raised. Water is collecting in mv
body and lower limbs, so that I am hardly free from distress at any time.
I have long meditated much on death, having been aware for about two and
a half years that I might drop down dead any day. It appears to me, after
all the scrutiny I can make, that I have had the faith required in the Gospel,
inasmuch as I hope and trust that I have, for many years, relied wholly on
Christ as the ground of pardon." He gently passed away on the Sabbath,
April 25, 1855. His funeral was very numerously attended on the Thurs-
day following, and his death was widely and deeply lamented. A Sermon,
commemorative of his character and services, was delivered before the Addi-
son Association of ministers at their meeting in Middlebury in June fol-
lowing, by the Rev. Josiah F. Goodhue of Shoreham. which, in connection
with a memoir of his life, was published.
Dr. Merrill was twice married, — first, to Eliza, only daughter of the Rev.
Jonathan Allen* of Bradford, Mass., — who died August 6, 1834, after
becoming the mother of five children ; and afterwards, November 15, 1837,
to Lydia, daughter of Col. Amos Boardman of Concord, N. H., who was
spared to minister to him during his protracted decline.
FROM THE REV. BENJAMIN LABAREE, D. D.,
PRESIDENT OF MIDDLEBURY COLLEGE.
Middlebury, May 26, 1856.
Dear Sir: Dr Merrill was for many years my neighbour and intimate friend,
and it gives me pleasure to do any thing in my power to embalm his memory.
In person he was a noble specimen of manly dignity. In height he rose above
six feet, and his form was well proportioned to his altitude. Say what we will
of the power of mind, we all prefer to see it associated with a large and fitting
corporeal frame. In the conformation of his head, you would discover no evi-
dence of poetic genius, nor of the superior power, perhaps, of any of the higher
intellectual faculties, and yet it would require but a cursory survey of that head,
to inspire you with respect and reverence. If j^-ou could not determine what
w6re the characteristics of the power concealed, you would have no hesitation in
believing that there was power in no stinted measure; you would coase to won-
der that Thomas A. Merrill was a successful competitor in his collegiate studies
with Daniel Webster.
But the culture of that mind was not equal to its original endownient.s. Dr.
Merrill could not be charged with indolence in the usual acceptation of that term
* .Jonathan Allen was a native of Braintree, Mass. ; was graduatofl nt Harvard College in
1774; was ordained pastor of the church, in Bradford, June 5, 1781 ; iu><l died March 6, 1827>
aged seventy -eight.
434 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
— he was a very busy man, seUlom unemployed, but not always occupied to the
best advantage. His mind did not love to be severely tasked; seldom were its
powers called into full requisition. The ordinary demands of his vocation could
be met with but half his strength; and hence, like too many others of his pro-
fession, he fell into habits of easy and accommodating study. Had he felt the
pressure of urgent motives for vigorous and continued mental action, he would
have been inferior to few of New England's ablest Divines. As it was, however,
many would consider his scholarship, and even his theological attainments,
comparatively limited. It was only in a few departments of literature that he
kept pace with the progress of the age.
But if he were somewhat deficient in the learning of books and the schools,
he was well skilled in the knowledge of men and things; his practical judg-
ments were almost intuitive. AV^ith certain fixed principles of reasoning, he
required but few data to form an opinion; and when formed, it was seldom
retracted or modified. His philosophy was largely imbued with the utilitarian
spirit. Science, art, literature, philosophy, politics, and theology, were all
looked at through the medium of utility. In his public ministrations, he dealt
sparingly with truth in the abstract; arguments drawn from observation and
experience, and truths illustrated by living realities, were the spiritual armory
upon which he relied, and which, in his hands, proved eminently successful.
Nothing was done for show, nothing to gratif)^ the taste merely, and no conven-
tional rules respected, which reason or conscience did not approve. He did not
feel called upon, nor did he require others, to sacrifice time, ease, or personal
comfort, in obedience to the caprices of fixshion. Yet Dr. Merrill was a gentle-
man, not so much in the ease and gracefulness of his movements, or in the deli-
cate perception of the small proprieties of life,- as in that kindness of manner,
that cordiality of sj^irit, and those warm, genial sympathies, which mark the
man of good sense and Christian principle.
Dr. Merrill was a man of business. The clergy have been subject to many
reproaches for their supposed want of knowledge in business affairs. The
charge, if true, may not, after all, be greatly to their discredit; but there are
many exceptions to the charge, and Dr. M. was one of them. In all business
transactions he was cautious, shrewd, and honourable, careful to avoid misap-
prehensions and personal difficulties. He was in principle opposed to the " credit
system," so extensively adopted in our country, and fraught, as he believed,
with many social and moral evils. " Owe no man any thing," was a favourite
text, literally interpreted, and faithfully practised, as an important Christian
duty. If, for convenience, small accounts were allowed to remain uncalled, for
a time, they were promptly paid at quarter da}^. With such fidelity did he
practise on this principle, that, during his last illness, he paid the bill of his phy-
sician till within a short time before his decease.
, Tenacity of purpose, was a marked peculiarity of his mind. He pursued with
untiring devotion, the particular object that engrossed his thoughts. For a few
years he became deeply absorbed in the study of Geology, and pushed his
inquiries quite beyond the limits, which gentlemen of his profession generally
have time to reach. Then he became the oracle of the whole region on the sci-
entific and practical culture of grapes. Two or three j-ears before his decease,
he embraced a new theory of education. He believed that the study of the
Latin and Greek languages, as usually pursued in our Colleges, is a waste of
time and of mental energy, and that it ought to be abandoned. To meet the
prevailing tastes of the people, and to give greater efficiency to public speaking,
he proposed to supply the place of the proscribed study by a more extensive
acquaintance with the principles and models of rhetorical composition, and more
frequent exercises in practical elocution. So deep and permanent were his con-
THOMAS ABBOT MERRILL. 485
victions on this subject, that he prepared a laboured essay to prove and illustrate
his principles, and made special arrangements in his will for its publication.
In College, Dr. Merrill was eminently successful as a linguist, but neither at
that period, nor in professional life, did he attain any very high distinction as a
writer or speaker.
As a preacher, he ranked among the most successful. Ilis written discourses
were logical, perspicuous, and affluent of thought, alwaj^s instructive, but sel-
dom attractive or impressive. It was in the familiar addresses of the lecture
room, that he produced the most marked effects. Untrammelled by studied
forms of speech, his mind seemed to grasp the subject in all its bearings and
relations; language clear and strong, illustrations forcible and pertinent, flowed
at his bidding, and enchained the attention of his audience. In the eloquence of
the lecture room he was excelled by few. To that instrumentality was the fruit-
fulness of his ministry largely indebted.
Dr. Merrill had fine social qualities. His powers of conversation were supe-
rior. His quick perceptions, ready memory, familiar manners, and genial spirit,
rendered him an agreeable and instructive companion. When he would talk,
all were disposed to be listeners, and they seldom failed to be entertained and
improved by the rich stores of his information, his judicious reflections, and his
original but appropriate analogies.
Among the churches of Vermont his influence was extensive and powerful;
and, notwithstanding some errors of judgment, his name will long be hold in
affectiomite remembrance.
Truly yours,
B. LABAREE.
KOSWELL RANDALL SWAN *
1805—1818.
KoswELL R. Swan was born of respectable and opulent parents in
Stonington, Conn., June 16, 1778. He fitted for College under the Rev.
Hezekiah North WoodruflF,t who was, at that time, settled in the minis-
try at Stonington. He was admitted a member of the Freshman class of
Yale College in September 1798, and was graduated with high honour in
September, 1802.
Though he had not been without occasional serious impressions, his mind
had never been earnestly directed to the subject of religion until June, 1799,
when his attention was suddenly arrested by a sermon from President
Dwight, illustrating the justice of God in leaving the sinner, after having
been the subject of oft-repeated convictions, to work out his own destruc-
tion. His exercises, for some time after this, as they are recorded in his
•MSS. from the Rev. Dr. Hewitt, and Ex-Govemor Toinlinson.
t Hezekiah North Woodruff was a native of Farmington, Conn. ; was graduated at Yale
College in 1784; was ordained pastor of the church in Stonington, Conn., July 2, 1789; waa
dismissed in 1803; removed to Central New York, and became a minister of the Presbyterian
church, and died in 1833. He published a Sermon at the ordination of Clark Brown; [who
received the honorary degree of Master of Arts from Harvard College in 1797; was ordained
pastor of the church m Machias, Me., October 7, 1795 ; was dismissed November 3, 1797 ; was
installed pastor of the church in Brimfield, June 20, 1798; was dismissed November 2, 1803;
and died several years after;] and a Sermon at the ordination of his brother, the Rev. Epbraim
T. \7oodruff, &t North Coventry, Conn., 1801.
48G TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
diary, were of the most strongly marked character, resembling, not a little,
in some respects, those of David IJrainerd ; and indeed much of that pecu-
liar type seems to have characterized his whole subsequent experience. He
was baptized and admitted to the church in Yale College, on the first of
December following.
A short time before the Commencement at which he took his first degree,
and in the prospect of the separation of his class, he, with a number of his
classmates who were professors of religion, entered into a religious covenant,
one article of which was that, on the first Sabbath of every month, each
one should read over the covenant and remember in his secret devotions
each of those who had subscribed it. His diary furnishes the evidence that
he sacredly adhered to this engagement.
During the greater part of the two years immediately succeeding his
graduation, he resided at New Haven, prosecuting studies of a general char-
acter ; for, notwithstanding the intensity of his religious convictions and
feelings, he seems not to have fully made up his mind what profession he
would pursue until March, 1804 ; and even then, he formed the purpose of
devoting himself to the ministry, not without many misgivings in regard to
his fitness for that high vocation. He committed to writing, at this time,
several distinct resolutions, which he intended should give complexion to his
character as a minister ; — resolutions which bespeak the deepest sense of
the magnitude of the work in which he was about to engage, and the firmest
purpose to submit cheerfully to all the self-denial which the faithful perform-
ance of it should involve.
After making a short visit to his relatives at Stonington, he went to
Franklin, Mass., and commenced the study of Theology under the direction
of Dr. Emmons. Whilst there, he pursued his studies systematically and
vigorously, though interrupted by severe attacks of a complaint to which he
was subject, and which never wholly left him.
In the following August, he was seized with an inflammation of the breast,
of a severe and dangerous character ; and this was followed by a fever which
drove him from his studies, and continued until the latter part of Septem-
ber. On this account he left Franklin, and, after spending some time in
travelling, repaired to West Hartford, and resumed his studies under the
direction of Dr. Perkins. This was in the month of October.
On the 6th of February, 1805, he was licensed to preach by the Hart-
ford North Association, holding its session at Northington. He preached
his first sermon, the next Sabbath, in the pulpit of his venerable teacher, Dr.
Perkins, and afterwards preached at Canterbury, Windham, and some other
places. The state of his health now became so much impaired, that he did
not think it prudent to preach as a candidate for settlement ; and, accordingly,
he spent some time in travelling and visiting his friends, and rendering occa-
sional assistance to his brethren in the ministry. During the summer, he
visited Ballston Spa, and in the autumn went to Bozrah, waiting for the
providence of God to make his duty plain to him.
In the latter part of December, his health was so far restored that he
repaired to Stonington and took charge of an Academy, and, at the same
time, supplied the vacant church and society there. Notwithstanding the
labour and confinement incident to his school, he wrote many sermons,
attended a weekly religious meeting, catechised the children, and performed
all the appropriate duties of a pastor. Having remained there several
ROSWELL RANDALL SWAN. 487
months, and declined an invitation to settle as a minister, he went to Nor-
walk in November, 1806; and, after preaching a short time on probation,
was called with great unanimity to the pastoral charge of the church and
society in that town. He accepted the call and was ordained on the 14th
of January, 1807.
Here Mr. Swan passed the residue of his life in most exemplary devoted-
ness to his Master's cause. That his ministry was uncommonly successful,
as well as highly acceptable, may be inferred from the fact that, during the
twelve years of his pastorate, two hundred and sixty-one persons were
admitted to the communion of the church. For several years previous to
his death, he had sufi'ered not a little from dyspepsia, which finally termi-
nated in a fatal consumption. He preached his last sermon in October, 1818,
and died on the 22d of March following, in the forty-first year of his age.
The intervening months were marked by intense but most patient suffer-
ing. His death formed a fitting conclusion to an eminently devoted life.
Mr. Swan was married to Harriet, daughter of Amos Palmer, a respecta-
ble inhabitant of Stonington. They had five children, — one son and four
daughters.
FROM THE REV. DAYID D. FIELD, D. D.
Stockbkidgk, 6 October, 1851.
My dear Sir: My opportunities for knowing the Rev. Mr. Swan were chiefly
confined to my College life, though I was more or less conversant with him as
long as he lived. He was my class-mate and intimate friend in College; and I
had few class-mates of whose peculiar traits I retain a more di.stinct impression.
He was a man of such strongly marked qualities, especiall}' so far as his religi-
ous character was concerned, that he would not be likely to be forgotten by any
who had ever known him.
In Mr. Swan's personal appearance there was nothing particularly prepossess-
ing. He was tall, of rather a bending form, and had a countenance indicative
of no remarkable qualities either intellectual or moral. He had a strong, vigorous
mind, but was by no means remarkable for brilliancy. As a student, he was
eminently thorough and successful; though I do not recollect that he was
distinguished in any one department above all others. It was evidently a mat-
ter of conscience with him to make himself master of all the studies included in
the College course.
But Mr. Swan's chief distinction lay in his religious character. To do good,
especially to the souls of his fellow men, seemed to be the ruling passion of his
renewed nature. It was manifest to all who saw him, that he acted habitually
under the influence of the powers of the world to come. Ilis naturally ardent and
persevering spirit he carried fully into the religious life; and whatsoever his
hand found to do for the honour of his blaster; he did with his might. Never-
theless, he was not lacking in discretion; nor was he of the number of those
who mistake a false, fiery zeal, and a spirit of indiscriminate denunciation, for
fidelity. During the revival in Yale College in 1802, he laboured with a truly
apostolic assiduity; and it was generally acknowledged that he had a very
important instrumentality in sustaining and carrying forward the work.
Ilis brief career as a minister was what might have been expected from his
remarkable religious developments while he was in College. Every one who
saw him, saw that his whole soul was in his work. His theological views
harmonized substantially with those of Edwards. His preaching was not
polished or graceful, but highly eff'ective. He seemed to disregard all literary
embellishments, and indeed to forget every thing else in the one controlling desire
488 TRIN1TA1UA^' CONGREGATIONAL.
to secure the immortal well-being of his fellow-men. I remember his preaching
a missionary sermon at Hartford, into wliich he iioured his whole soul with such
surprising efiect, that it awakened very unusual attention, especially among his
brethren in the ministry. The late Roger Minot Sherman, who was for a time a
member of his congregation, and afterwards lived in his immediate neighbourhood,
and had a good opportunity of observing his course, gave the highest testimony
to his ministerial zeal and efficiency. It was a dark dispensation by which such
a man, in the vigour of his life and usefulness, was called from his labours to his
reward. Faithfully yours,
DAVID D. FIELD.
FROM THE HON. CLARK BISSELL,
GOVERNOR OF CONNECTICUT.
Saratoga Springs, August 13, 1850.
Rev. and dear Sir: Your letter of the 27th ult. requesting my recollections of
the Rev. R. R. Swan, was put into my hands, on the eve of my departure from
home for this place.
I removed to Norwalk and became a member of Mr. Swan's congregation, in
June, 1809, about two years and a half after his settlement; and from that time
to the close of his life, not only attended on his ministry, but was on terms of
close intimacy with him. My recollections of liim, however, so far as they will
be to your purpose, are rather general than particular.
Mr. Swan's deportment was uniformly dignified, and his general appearance
commanding. He was an original thinker as well as a ripe scholar. His informa-
tion was extensive, and his conversational powers Avere of a very high order.
As a preacher, he had few of the attributes of a finished orator in the ordinary
acceptation of that term. The tones of his voice were harsh, and to strangers
rather unpleasant; and his action, though forcible and significant, was far from
being graceful. Ilis style and manner wei-e direct and earnest, and no hearer
could resist the conviction of his deep sincerity. Among the fourteen hundred
manuscript sermons which he left, and Miiich he had preached to his people, not
one, I believe, was written out in full; yet they were obviously prepared and
elaborated with much care.
As a pastor, Mr. Swan was laborious, and his attention was particularly
directed to the young. He maintained a course of weekly lectures to the young
people of his congregation, during the entire period of his ministry. These
meetings he never omitted: except from unavoidable necessity. There were
repeated and large additions to the church, principally from among the youth, in
which he greatly rejoiced.
I regret that I cannot give you a more extended and satisfactory account of my
former pastor but so long a period has elapsed since his death, that my memory
does not supply me with those minute details whicli are es.sential to the most
vivid and etfective illustration of character. I Avill only add that he has left
a name permanently embalmed in tlie gratitude and affection of this community.
I am very respectfully yours,
CLARK BISSELL.
AAEON BUTTON. 489
AARON BUTTON*
1805—1849.
Aaron Dutton was born at Watertown, Conn., on the 21st of May,
1780. He was the son of Thomas and Anna (Rice) Dutton, and was the
youngest of nine children. His father and three of his father's brothers
sustained the office of Deacon in Congregational churches.
Ho was fitted for College under the instruction of the Rev. Azel Backus
of Bethlem, afterwards President of Hamilton College. He graduated at
Yale College in 1823, having, not long before the completion of his collegiate
course, made a public profession of religion by uniting with the College
church. As he had had a religious education, he had been familiar with
serious thoughts from his childhood ; but it was not till 1802, during the
first great revival that took place in College under the ministry of President
Dwight, that he was brought to a deep sense of his spiritual needs, and to a
cordial and practical reception of the Gospel.
After his graduation, he pursued the study of Theology under thp direction
of President Dwight. In October, 1805, he was introduced to the churches
as a candidate for the work of the ministry by the Southern Association of
Litchfield County. In September, 1806, he was invited to take the pasto-
ral charge of the First Church and Society in Guilford: having accepted
the invitation, his ordination took place on the 10th of December following.
Mr. Dutton's ministry continued during a period of nearly thirty-six
years, and was eminently successful in building up the church and in win-
ning souls to Christ. When he relinquished the pastoral office, the church,
which, at the commencement of his ministry, numbered less than thirty
members, had increased to about four hundred. No less than sis distinct
revivals of religion took place under his labours. He resigned his charge
on the 8th of June, 1842, chiefly on account of some difference of opinion
between him and his people, particularly on the subject of Slavery. He
was an earnest and vigorous friend to the cause of emancipation.
In less than a twelve month after the dissolution of his connection with
his people, and just as he was entering his sixty-fourth year, Mr. Dutton
went as a missionary in the service of the American Home Missionary Soci-
ety to what is now the State of Iowa. There he was gratefully welcomed
by his younger brethren in the ministry, and a field of usefulness opened
before him, into which he was entering with all the ardour of youth. He
was invited to the pastoral care of the church in Burlington, the capital of
that Territory ; and in August, 1843, he returned to New England to make
arrangements for a permanent removal to the West. Just as he was about
commencing his journey, he was attacked by the disease incident to those
new countries; and having, not without much difficulty, reached his children
ic New Haven, he was immediately laid upon a bed of sickness from which
it was, for a long time, doubtful whether he would ever arise. He, however,
did so far recover, as to be able, in a few instances, to preach ; though the
years that remained to him were at best years of great infirmity. About
the beginning of June, 1849, it was found that his disease was suddenly
* Bacon"s Fun. Scrm. — MS. from his son. Rev. S. G. S. Dutton.
Vol. I:. C2
490 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
gaming strength, and it very soon becamt apparent that his ei d was near.
His last act of earthly consciousness was his uniting in a prayer in whicli
his departing spirit was commended to his lledeemer. He died at New
Haven at the residence of his daughter, with whom he had lived from the
time that he returned from the West, and was buried in the midst of his
former charge at Guilford. The llev. Dr. Bacon of New Haven preached
his funeral sermon.
Mr. Dutton was, throughout his whole ministry, an active and efficient
friend to the cause of education. Beginning with his own family, — he gave
them all, — daughters as well as sons, the best advantages for education
which the country afforded. Not a small number of young men, through
his instrumentality, were led to the diligent culture of their minds ; and
several, by means of encouragement given, and instruction gratuitously
bestowed, by him, were brought into the Gospel ministry. Many of his
pupils were distinguished scholars in College, and afterwards became emi-
nent in the learned professions. He was chosen a member of the Corporation
of Yale College in 1825, and held the office till his death, — discharging its
duties with efficiency and fidelity until his energies were in a great measure
paralyzed by disease.
Mr. Dutton was married, before his settlement in the ministry, to Dorcas
Southmayd, of Watertown, Conn. She was eminently an help-meet to him
in all his labours and trials, and lived with him in the marriage relation
about thirty-five years. They had eight children, most of whom survive in
stations of honourable usefulness. Three of his five sons were graduated
at Yale College, and of the remaining two, one died while he was fitting for
College, and the other, in his Junior year. Of the graduates, two are
ministers and on^e is a lawyer. One of the daughters has been, for many
years, at the head of a distinguished female school in New Haven.
Mr. Dutton published several occasional sermons, one of which was
preached at the ordination of the Bev. Thomas Buggies.* He was also a
contributor to various periodicals, among which was the Christian Spectator
FROM THE REV. LEONARD BACON, D. D.
New Haven, July 8, 1850.
Dear Brother: The Rev. Aaron Dutton of Guilford entered the ministry just
before the time of the transition from the old method and system of theological
education to the new. lie was contemporary in College with Dr. Porter of Farm-
ington and Dr. McEweu of New London, who still survive among the honoured
fathers of the ministry in Connecticut. I was acquainted with him for about
twenty-four years; though I was not in the same Association with him, and was
by about twenty years his junior in the pastoral office. Few men in his day were
more respected than he among the churches of his neighbourhood or among the
ministers throughout the State. He Avas eminently without pretence or affecta-
tion of professional dignity and gravity — he was constitutionally and by habit
cheerful and even mirthful; and yet there was no lack of gravity or true dignity
in his deportment. His manner in the pulpit was solemn and earnest rather
than vehement; and those who saw him in social intercourse always felt that,
with all his pleasant good-humour, he was a thoroughly serious and earnest man,
a Christian gentleman. He had no ambition to shine or to excel; as a preacher
• Thomas Ruggles was a native of Guilford, Conn. ; was graduated at Yale College in 1805;
waa ordained pastor of the church in Derby, Conn., in 1809; was dismissed in 1811; and died
in 1836.
AARON BUTTON. 491
he did not cultivate the art of making great sermons, but his discourses, so far
as I had any knowledge of them, were ahvaj's full of weighty thought clearly
expressed. His great business was to do good in old Guilford; and he did good
by preaching, by teaching, by talking, by all sorts of personal influence, as long
as he lived there. The great blessing of Clod ujwn his ministry is the best of
testimonies to his worth.
I am sure that I shall have the concurrent testimony of all candid persons who
knew Mr. Button, to sustain me, when I say that he was a wise man; and was
recognised, honoured, trusted accordingly. His position as a leading man among
the ministers and churches of his own ecclesiastical connection and neighbourhood,
was due not to his years only, but to the knowledge of men and of principles,
the quickness in the discernment and comprehension of cases, and the disinterest-
edness and readiness in the application of principles, which made him so generally
a safe and able counsellor.
He was a good man. His religion was as full of humanity as of godliness. It
was full of kindness toward the afflicted, the depressed, the wronged, and the
needy. His was not that superficial humanity which is sometimes made a sub-
stitute for godhness and devotion; it was the manifestation and working of his
godliness, — the genial effect which his devotion had upon his character. His
intercourse with God, instead of making him morose and repulsive toward his
fellow men, made him more full of human kindness. Thus when he had grown
old, he was readj^ as ever to enter into the feelings of the young, and able to win
their confidence without impairing the reverence due to his years. Thus to the last
day of his life, full of trust in God's counsels and providence, he retained his
cheerful and hopeful sympathy Avith the great cause of Christian and of human
progress.
He was an honest man, — honest in the noblest sense of the Avord. His conduct
never was marked with duplicity, or craft, or any meanness. In his straight-
forward way of acting, there was no place for the guileful sinuosities with which
some men, who think themselves honest, sometimes mislead their own consciences.
If he at any time acted from impulse instead of waiting for the cool calculations of
reason, — if at any time he erred by acting from impulse, — his impulses were always
manly and generous, prompting him to take part with the wronged or the Aveak,
and to commit himself for truth, for freedom, and for justice.
He was ti fearless man, — fearless because he was honest, and honest becau.se he
Avas fearless. Wherever he saw, or thought he saw, his duty, there he took his
stand without any regard to consequences as they might affect himself. What-
ever vice or sin was to be rebuked, — Avhatever form of evil-doing was to be
encountered, — he was always ready to do all that belonged to him, hoAvever
strong or threatening might be the array of resistance. The history of his efforts
among his OAvn people in behalf of the Temperance Reformation, if it should be
recited, — the story of the promptitude and earnestness Avith Avhich he seized upon
the great moral principle of that reform, and j)roclaimed it in its applications, not
taking counsel of any personal interests of his own, — would be an ample illus-
tration of his fearlessness in dutj^
He was a happy man. Perhaps if we were to sum up the A^arious afflictions
and sorrows of his latter years, — the repeated visitations of protracted sickness
and of death, that came into his family; the separation from the people among
whom he had lived so long, and in Avhose service he had expected to die; the
breaking up of his household; the parting from the pleasant homestead that had
been hallowed by so many praj'ers and so much affection, by so many sacred
joys and sacred griefs; the violent disease that cut short his usefulness; the
months and years of weariness and suffering that led him on so slowly to the
end, — it might be thought l)y some that the man to Avhom all these things were
allotted, could not but be unhappy. But that Avould be an erroneous judgment.
492 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Sucli a man as he was, carries the elements of happiness within him. Trustinj;
in Gotl, dehghting in God's service, waiting for God's will, he finds tliat he can
do and bear all things through Christ wlio strcngthencth him. Sorrow chastens
his spirit and ripens his graces. He may pass through the waters; but God is
with him; and through the rivers, but tiiey shall not overflow him. Mr. Button
was a happy man, because he was the servant of his God. It was with a fresh
and happy heart, — a heart full of clieerful enterprise, that he set his face in his
old age toward the far North West, and went from the midst of all these outward
privileges and comforts to plant the Gospel in the wilderness. It was with an
unfainting and happy heart, and with an undecaying cheerfulness, that he waited
all the days of his appointed time till his change came. lie was a happy man
because, by the grace of God, he had in his own soul the elements of happiness.
Yours truly,
L. BACON
JOHN CODMAN, D. D.=*
1806—1847.
John Codman was the son of John and Margaret (Russell) Codman,
and was born in Boston, August 3, 1782. Ilis father was an eminent mer-
chant, and held some important offices in civil life, in all of which he was
a model of integrity and fidelity. His mother was connected with some of
the most influential faujilies in Boston, and was a highly educated and
accomplished lady. Both his parents were warmly attached to the iustitu-
tioDS of religion, and taught their children to regard them with becoming
reverence. In his early youth he was remarkable for his fine social feelings,
and generous dispositions, and buoyant spirits, and withal for a more than
common facility of intellectual acquisition.
Having gone through his preparatory course at a Grammar school in
Boston, he became a member of the Freshman class in Harvard College in
1798 ; and, having sustained himself honourably as a student through his
collegiate course, he was admitted to the degree of Bachelor of Arts in
1802.
Immediately on leaving ('ollege, he commenced the study of the Law,
with an intention to make tliat his ultimate profession. In May, 1803, liis
father was removed by deutli ; and one of the last wishes that he expressed
was, that his sou would abandon the study of the Law, and devote his
attention to Theology, with a view to entering the ministry. To this
request, made in circumstances of such peculiar interest, filial affection
and reverence prompted him to accede ; and accordingly he commenced his
theological studies at Cambridge, and subsequently pursued them under the
direction of Dr. Ware, then of Ilinghani, — afterwards Hollis Professor of
Divinity in Harvard University. His views of Christian truth were not at
that time thoroughly settled, though his sympathies were with the Theology
then most prevalent at Cambridge and Boston. His father's death was a
great shock to his sensibilities, and disposed him to a serious habit of feeling,
• Memoir of Dr. Codman by Dr. Allen, with Reminisccuces by Dr. Bates.
JOHN CODMAN. 493
which was thought to have marked the commencement of his Christian life.
While he was a student at Hingham, Cooper's "Four Sermons on Predes-
tination" were put into his hands with a request that he would write a
Review of them for the Monthly Anthology. He undertook the task with
the expectation of finding much in them to condemn ; but, after giving them
a repeated perusal, he found himself constrained to subscribe fully to the
doctrines which they contained. He wrote a review, as requested, but it
was published, not in the Anthology, but in another work quite antagonistic
to that, — the Panoplist.
From this time, he seems to have been settled in the belief of the com-
monly received system of orthodoxy. With a view to prosecute his studies
under circumstances which he deemed most favourable, he embarked in
July, 1805, for Scotland, Having studied at Edinburgh a year, availing
himself of all the helps which were brought within his reach by the Univer-
sity, he commenced preaching under the auspices of some distinguished
Congregational clergymen in England. After this, he remained in Great
Britain about a year, during which time, he made the acquaintance of many
of the most eminent ministers of the day ; among whom were John Newton,
David Bogue, George Burder, and Piowland Hill.
Shortly after his return to this country in May, 1808, he was invited to
become the pastor of the Second church and congregation in Dorchester,
which had then been recently organized. After having given to the matter
much serious consideration, and stated explicitly to the people the views of
Christian doctrine which he should feel bound to present, he accepted their
call; and, on the 7th of December, 1808, was inducted into the pastoral
office, Dr. Channing preaching the Sermon,* which was afterwards pub-
li;.hed.
After his settlement, iSlr. Codman laboured with much comfort and suc-
cess for about a year ; but the three following years of his ministry were
marked by great perplexity and disquietude. Up to that time, there had
been no distinct line of separation drawn between the Congregational min-
isters of Massachusetts, holding diiTerent views of Christian doctrine ; the
orthodox and the liberal having been accustomed, for the most part, to
exchange pulpits indiscriminatcl}'. Mr. Codman soon came to have scruples
on this subject, which led him to contract somewhat the circle of his
exchanges, — thus producing great dissatisfaction in the minds of a portion
of his congregation. Two mutual councils were called to settle the diffi-
culty, but it was not finally settled, until the portion of the society aggrieved
by Mr. Codman's course, withdrew and became a distinct organization.
The controversy awakened groat interest on both sides, and undoubtedly
had an important bearing on the subsequent course of other ministers and
churches in that region.
In the course of the controversy above referred to, Mr. Codman became
intimate in the family of William Coombs, a distinguished merchant of
Newburyport, who acted as a delegate on the council for his settlement.
In consequence of this intimacy ho formed an acquaintance with a grand-
• Mr. Codman, as a member of the Brattle Street church, would naturally have a=ked hia
own minister, Mr. Buekminster, to preach on the occasion; but he chose Mr. Channing, as he
himself informed me, in consideration of his harmonizing with him more nearly in his views of
Christian doctrine. Mr. Buekminster, however, was present, and took part in the sen.ice.
494 TIMMTARIAN CONGTIEGATIONAL.
daughter of Mr. Coombs, the oldest daughter of Ebenezer Wheelwright of
Newburyport, who became his wife, January 19, 1813.
In 1822, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon Mr. Cod-
man by the College of New Jersey; and in 1840, by Harvard University.
In November, 1824, Dr. Codman having suffered severely, for some time,
from the eflects of a full from his horse, determined, by the advice of a
physician, to try the effect of a sea voyage. He, accordingly, with Mrs.
Codman, took passage for Savannah ; and in that city, and in Charleston,
he passed several months, greatly to his satisfaction. In February following,
he embarked for Liverpool ; and, after spending some time in England, Scot-
land, and Ireland, and making a short trip to the continent, he returned to his
native country, reaching Boston at the close of August, 1825. His foreign
tour was one of great interest to him, as it gave him an opportunity of not
only renewing his intercourse with the friends of his earlier life, but of
becoming acquainted, for the first time, with Dr. Chalmers, Mrs. Hannah
More, and many other of the greatest lights in both the theological and the
literary world.
In June, 1834, Dr. Codman was appointed by the General Association
of Massachusetts, a delegate to the Congregational Union of England and
Wales, at their meeting the succeeding year. He accepted the appoint-
ment ; and, with the intention of spending the intervening winter on the
continent of Europe, and then passing over to England, he embarked at
New York for Havre, with a part of his family, on the 16th of October,
1834. It is unnecessary to note any of the incidents of this tour, as Dr.
Codman himself has given a somewhat particular account of it in a small
volume entitled, — "A visit to England." He returned to America in Sep-
tember, 1835, and was received by his people with every demonstration of
respect and affection. He engaged now with fresh activity in his ministe-
rial labours ; and in the course of five years from this time, about one hun-
dred were added to his church.
In 1845, Dr. Codman visited Europe for the last time. He sailed from
Boston, accompanied by his youngest son, on the 1st of April, and was
absent a little more than five months, spending most of his time among his
early acquaintances in England and Scotland. He was present at many of
the great religious anniversaries in London, as he had been on his preceding
visit, and was among the speakers at the anniversary of the British and
Foreign Jiible Society, of the Religious Tract Society, and the London
Missionary Society. He enjoyed the tour greatly, and evidently did not
return without the hope of being able to repeat it.
In June, 1847, he was the subject of a slight attack of paralysis, from
which, however, he gradually so far recovered as to be able to resume, in
some degree, his puldic labours. In September following, he was able to attend
a meeting of the American Board of (Commissioners for Foreign Missions
at Bufi'alo, and, on his return, his health seemed not a little improved. He
preached for the last time on the morning of October 17th, from the text, —
" As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." His last public ser-
vice was at the Communion table, on the 5th of December, when he dis-
pensed the elements and offered one of the prayers. His health was now
very perceptibly waning, and he felt that he was liable any hour to an
attack that would prove almost immediately fatal. It was a great comfort
to him that the young licentiate who assisted him in the Communion service
JOHN CODMAN. 495
was one upon whom he had fixed his eyes as a suitable person to succeed
him in the ministry, and that he seemed to be regarded with much favour
by his people. Dr. Codman's desire was accomplished in the settlement of
this gentleman* soon after his decease.
In the prospect of death, Dr. Codman expressed an unshaken confidence
in the liedeemer, and seemed to be fully sustained by the consolations of
the Gospel. He died December 23, 1847, aged sixty-five years. His Fune-
ral Sermon was preached by the Rev. Dr. Storrs of Braintree, and v»as
published. The Rev. David Dyer, then minister of the Village church,
Dorchester, preached a sermon, commemorative of his friend, the Sabbath
after his funeral, which was also published.
Dr. Codman was the father of nine children, three of whom died in
infancy, and six survived him ; — three sons and three daughters. One of
his sons was a member of Amherst College about two years, but was not
graduated. Another was graduated at Harvard College in 1844, and is
(1858) a lawyer in Boston. One of the daughters, Margaret, was married
to the Rev. William Augustus Peabody ; who was born in Salem, Mass.,
December 6, 1815; was graduated with distinguished honour at Amherst
College in 1835 ; was a teacher in Andover Phillips Academy the two fol-
lowing years, and was Principal of the Academy during the latter half of
the second year ; was Tutor in Amherst College from 1838 to 1840 ; com-
pleted his theological course in the Andover Seminary in 1842 ; was
ordained pastor of the Congregational church in East Randolph, Mass.,
March 2, 1843 ; was dismissed from his pastoral charge, October 2, 1849,
with a view to his acceptance of a Professorship in Amherst College ; entered
upon his new duties with characteristic ardour and with the promise of
abundant usefulness, in January, 1850; and died on the 27th of the fol-
lowing month. He was distinguished for fine manners, a highly cultivated
intellect, amiable and generous dispositions, and a consistent and elevated
Christian character. Mrs. Codman still survives, having, through a long
life, adorned every relation she has sustained.
The following is a list of Dr. Codman's publications: — A Sermon on
Prayer, 1813. A Sermon at the funeral of General Stephen Badlam, 1815.
A Discourse before the Roxbury Charitable Society, 1817. A Discourse
before the Foreign Missionary Society of Boston and the vicinity, 1818.
A Discourse at the dedication of the North Congregational meeting-house,
New Bedford, 1818. A Sermon before the Society for propagating the
Gospel, 1825. A Sermon before the Massachusetts Society for promoting
Christian Knowledge, 1826. Speech in the Board of Overseers in Harvard
College, 1831. A Sermon before the Convention of Congregational minis-
ters, 1831. A Sermon at Plymouth, on " the Faith of the Pilgrims," 1831.
A Sermon at the interment of Mrs. Harriet Storrs, 1834. A Sermon
before the Pastoral Association of Massachusetts, 1836. A Sermon before
the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, 1836. A
Sermon at the funeral of the Rev. Samuel Gile, 1836. A Sermon at the
installation of the Rev. S. W. Cozzens, 1837. A Sermon at the General
Flection, 1840. A Fast day Sermon on "National Sins," 1841. A Ser-
mon on the Thirty-seventh Anniversary of his ordination, 1845.
In 1834, Dr. Codman published an octavo volume consisting partly of
60me of the above discourses, which had previously been publi^shed in
• Rev. J. H. McanB.
496 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
pamphlet form, and partly of othei- occasional sermons which were printed
then for the first time. In 1835, he published his " Visit to England,'
in a small volume, duodecimo. An octavo volume was published some time
after his death, containing several additional Sermons, in connection with a
memoir of his Life.
FROM THE REV. RICHARD S. STORKS, D. D.
Braintree, November 8, 1848.
My dear Sir: Your request for some reminiscences of our beloved and lamented
brother has not been forgotten, though not so soon met as it would have been
but for the claims of urgent duties.
My acquaintance with Dr. Codman commenced in 1811, two or three year.s
after his settlement in Dorchester. He was then in all the freshness of youth,
buoyant in spirit, active in movement, bland in disposition, and courteous in
manners, — traits of character that remained delightfully prominent till the hour
of his departure. Two or three years later, he entered into the marriage relation,
and found in her who still survives to lament his loss, one fitted, in all respects,
to be the partner of his labours and the helper of his joys. Previous to this, h'jn
house was under the regulation of two maiden sisters of his father, toward.s
whom he ever showed, while they lived, all that veneration, love, and care, wliich
their bigli worth and physical infirmities demanded. Their wishes were gratified,
and tlieir happiness increased, by the new connection into which he entered witii
all the fulness of youthful ardour, and the di.scrimination of a mind supremely
intent on finding in the companion of his life, that meek and quiet spirit which is
an ornament of great price.
He was a man of quick discernment, and had all but an intuitive perception
of the right and the wrong in every question that presented itself. Nor was any
one farther removed from dogmatism, though none ever held a carefully formed
opinion more firmly; and if happy when his opinions coincided with those of
other men enjoying his confidence, he was not wont to waver in the maintenance
of his own views, when differing from those of his friends.
His courteousness already alluded to, was not less prominent than his firm-
ness. When obliged to take the ground of antagonism, as was often unavoidable,
lie did it with reluctance, and shrunk, as it were instinctively,-, from whatever in
word or action would wound the feelings of friend or foe, — much more from every
iipproach to that sarcasm and vituperation which too often become the substitutes
for argument and kind address. lie regarded the rights and feelings of an oppo-
nent as no less sacred than his own; and when most sternly resisting what he
regarded the assumptions of error or the atrocities of vice, he studiously avoided
the infliction of a needless wound on the sensibilities of his antagonists in the
strife; or if he found him.self unwarily transgressing this deeply implanted law
of nature and of grace, with the most childlike simplicity .and the warmest gush-
ings of a benevolent spirit, he closed and healed the wound, by casting himself
with true heroism on the bosom he had pained. lie was ever alive, alike to the
joys and sorrows of others; and the smile that played on his lip, and the tear
that glistened in his eye, were cquall}- the involuntar}- betokenings of the strong
sympathies awakened in his bosom by the enjoyments or sufferings he witnessed.
In the various relations of life, he was a fit model for the study of those who
aim at high attainments in social virtue. Whether in the bosom of his family or
a guest in the families of his friends; whether cloistered in the study, or mingling
in the circles of his ministerial brethren, or thrown into more promiscuous
society, it M^as evidently his aim to transfuse through every mind in contact with
his own, confidence in himself as a friend and brother, whose happiness was
identified with the happiness of those about him. His home was eminently the
JOHN CODMAN. 497
abode of hospitalitj^ ; and whatever wealth could command, or generosity proffer,
was poured without stint into the lap of the confiding friend or stranger, with a
frank cordiahty that doubled its value. The man of wealth and rank, the simple-
minded or distinguished clerical brother, and the humblest child of honest pov-
erty or hereditary ignorance, were alike treated with the respectful kindness due
to them as children of the common Father. If he met with his ministerial breth-
ren at their regular Associational assemblings, — as he rarely failed to do, — or
visited them at their homes, as he often did, when he could throw olf other engage-
ments, it was always upon terms of the most perfect " equality and fraternity;"
and more than once has he been heard to remark that his habit of using the
plainest vehicles on these occasions, instead of a more elegant and convenient
conveyance, was adopted solely from an appreher.sion that the brethren whom he
loved as himself, might imagine that he undervalued them in their comparative pov-
erty, and vaunted himself of the superior advantages he enjoyed through God's
sovereign pleasure. Or if he entered the lowly apartments of the humble washer-
woman, it was with the same unaffected dignit}^ and freedom as marked his
demeanour in the spacious halls and richly furnished parlours of his wealthiest
parishioners — taking the seat pointed out to him, and bidding her go on with her
work, as though she were alone, he engaged in conversation with all the earnest
tenderness of a pastor and Chi-istian brother, listening patiently to the recital of
her toils and sorrows, or joyfuUj^ to the declaration of her penitence and faith,
hopes and consolations, till her frugal repast was prepared, and he shared it with
her as pleasantly as though it had been " a feast of fat things." No feature of
his character perhaps was more strongly marked than affection for the people of
his charge. "When they wept, he wept; and when they rejoiced, he rejoiced.
Ilis heart was bound up in them — all their interests were identified with his
own. A few j'ears since, it was proposed to remodel the Yestry of his church;
and the leading men in the enterpiise, Avishing to honour their pastor, urged that
the desk should be placed in the upper part of the room, opposite the entrance,
as being at once the most retired and conspicuous location; but he strenuously
insisted on having it placed between the doors b)^ which the worshippers entered,
that he might have the pleasure of saluting the congregation individually as they
retired and learn the state of their families, with any peculiarities in their per-
sonal circumstances either of body or mind. Thus, at ever)' weekl}^ praj-er-
meeting or lecture, he carefully ascertained the leading facts in the condition of all
the attendants, and became prepared to impart instruction, or bear them under-
standingly on his heart, before the throne of God.
The liberality with which he distributed his goods to feed the poor, and raise
up a seed to serve the Lord throughout the earth, is well known. His benevo-
lence was expansive as the world. Ilis charities were mainly systematic, and
bestowed with Avise discrimination, nor without more or less of perplexing care,
as appeals to his aid were incessant and urgent — commonly they ran in those
deep channels which God in his providence had clearly prepared and indicated as
best fitted to convey their streams widely over the earth, and then return them
into the ocean of Infinite Love. Yet, regarding himself as the Lord's steward,
he turned a deaf ear to no application, Avhether from the poor around him or afar
off, from the sufferer in body or spirit, the victim of self-cherished folly or of
Satan's wiles. Ilis counsels and encouragement, his sympathy and smiles, his
house and his library, were ever at the command of his brethren in the ministry;
and in regard to the last particularly, it was always with lively satisfaction that
he threw it open to their freest use, and urged the loan of every volume that
might aid their studies.
In the amiable controversy which arose a few years since among the friends of
Temperance on the " Wine question," he conscientiously defended the M^ell-regu-
lated use of the article, on what he deemed scriptural authority, combined with
Vol. IL &?>
498 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
the obvious inexpediency of proscribing as noxious that whidi good men of all
generations had used without rebuke, and which Paul had counselled Timothy to
use for liis stomach's sake, and his often inlirmities. Still, he rarely, if ever,
indulged in the use of it himself or provided it for his guests; though he intended
to have it within reach for the benefit of the poor and the sick around him, when
it should be prescribed for them by the attending physician. More than once,
when he found, to his surprise, that his stock, in this form of charity, was
exhausted, he sent abroad to procure a fresh supply to meet the wants of the
necessitous and the yearnings of his own mind for their relief. The principle
on which he acted was one that has undoubtedly the .sanction of Heaven, and is
developed in the language of the Apostle — " If meat (or wine) make my brother
to offend, 1 will eat no flesh, (drink no wine) while the world standeth, lest I
make my brother to offend."
Yours most aflFectionately,
R. S. STORRS.
FROM THE REV. ROBERT BURNS, D. D.
Toronto, Canada West, April 5, 1855.
My Dear Sir: Most cheerfully do I comply with your request, to give you a
few sketches of early " recollections " regarding our late esteemed friend and
brother. Dr. Codman of Dorchester. It was in March, 1844, I spent some days
with him at his beautiful residence, at Lynden Hill, on my visit to the States, as
Ji deputy on behalf of the Free Church of Scotland. Again in May, 1847, I
went down from Toronto to Boston on my way to Nova Scotia, and assisted him
in the dispensation of the Supper of our common Lord. On both tho.se occasions,
the reminiscences of our early days ro.se fresh to view, and much pleasant retro-
spective communing did we enjoy. Nor must I forget his excellent partner, Mrs.
Codman, a woman of fine mind and exalted Christian character. The Doctor
and I had not met for twenty years. My previous interview with him had been
in 1825, when he was on a visit to Scotland with his family, and eighteen years
had even then elapsed from the date of our previous interviews.
The first visit which my esteemed friend made to the old country, and particu-
larly to Scotland, was in 1805. His fellow-voyager on that occasion, was the
world-renowned Professor Silliman of Yale College; then a very young man,
eager in the pursuit of all kinds of knowledge, and laying deep and sure the
foundations of that celebrity he has since acquired and maintained. Mr. Cod-
man, 1 rather think, did not accompany the Professor to the Continent on those
interesting " travels " which have since been given to the world, and the perusal
of which gave me so much pleasure many years ago. It was in November, 1805,
I first saw Mr. Codman, at the Divinity Hall of Edinburgh, but I did not make
his personal acquaintanceship till the following year. He gave attendance on the
prelections in Theology for two winters, and it was in the session of 180G-7, I
enjoyed the pleasure of his friendship and society. He resided, during that winter,
in the house of the Rev. Dr. David Dickson, the esteemed colleague of the Rev.
Sir Henry MoncriefF Wellwood, in the pastoral charge of St. Cuthbert's church.
Often did we meet in the hospitable " manse," where congeniality of tastes and
of studies led a number of young men to come together in friendly conference,
and where we all benefitted greatly by the advices and countenance of the learned
and pious pastor.
It so hajipened that Dr. Miller's Retrospect of the Nineteenth Century had
been perused "by me, on its first publication in Britain, and thus I was rather
"ripe" than otherwise on American colleges, ministers, and churches. My
questionings about Dr. Ezra Stiles, Dr. Eliphalet Nott, and others, gratified my
New England friend. He liked to meet one who took an interest in American
Theology, and our acquaintanceship ripened into friendship.
JOHN CODMAN. 499
The Theological School or Hall at Edinburgh had then only three Professors.
Dr. Andrew Hunter, the Professor of Theology proper, had long held the situa-
tion along with one of the parishes of tlio city, and he was rather advanced in
years. At no time distinguished either by native talent or extensive learning,
he was nevertheless every way respectable, and, in regard to personal character
and worth, truly one of the excellent of the earth. Dr. Hugh Meiklejohn was
the pastor of a considerable country parish fourteen miles distant from the city,
and, after the manner of those times, held, as a plurality, the Chair of Church
History; but he was a man of learning and of great kindheartedness. His
course of Church History began with the " organic remains" of former worlds,
and reached down to the era of Julian, the apostate. Still, amid a great deal
that was heavy and uninteresting, he brought out much that was really valuable,
and his written critiques on our essays were admirable. Dr. William Moodie,
the Professor of Oriental Languages, was also one of the ministers of St.
Andrew's Church, — a man of competent learning and of most agreeable manners.
With all our Professors we held occasional private intercourse convivially; but,
with the exception of Dr. Moodie, our Professors of Theology were not remarkable
for conversational powers. Indeed 1 am not quite certain whether Mr. Codman
attended the class of Church History at all. As he was an amateur student
only, he "gave in " no discourses; nor do I recollect of his being ever called up
for public examination. Often have he and T, however, tried, of an evening, to
discuss "deep points" in Theology, and to read Hebrew, and occasionally
perhaps a little Greek.
Among collegiate associationships in those happy days, there were three of
.special importance, in all of which Mr. Codman cordially took part with us.
One was a Societj* for debate and essay reading, with critical remarks, on subjects
connected with the literature and doctrines of Theology. Another was an Asso-
ciation for delivering lectures and sermons in the hearing of one another, and
with mutual criticisms. The third was a fellowship meeting in the Hall of the
Orphan Hospital, where most profitable conference and prayer filled delightfully
the evening hours. During the first session of ^Ir. Codman's residence at Edin-
burgh, the first and second of these meetings were of a more mixed c-liaracter
than accorded with his serious views. There were a number of " moderates,"
associated with young men of a more decidedly religious character; and he did
not relish the coalition. Nearly twenty of us shared with him in his views;
and leaving what was called the " Philosophical," we formed ourselves into what
was afterwards called tho " Adelphi-Theological, Society." What we gained,
however, in Christian fellowship, we lost in racy and pointed debate. We were
too much of one mind. From one extreme we had gone over to another, and an
element of sameness and dulness was superinduced. Still, we held many delight-
ful meetings, and we had the patronage and kind offices on our side of the
leading evangelical ministers then in the city. The Davidsons, the Buchanans,
the Dicksons, the Flemings of those days, were just the precursors of the
Thomsons, the Chalmerses, the Cunninghams, the Guthries, and the Gordons of
later times, and the A. T. S. of 1807, was the type of the Free Protesting
Church of 1843, comparing of course small things with great.
The following little illustration of occurrences in our early days may not be
uninteresting, as throwing light on character. Saturday, being a blank day as to
academic studies, was selected as the season of our meeting as a Society for
hearing one another preach, and oflering criticisjns on the matter and manner of
the discourses. One Saturday,— well do I recollect it,— there were some rather
acrimonious criticisms made, and our friend Codinan had felt not a little stung
by some remarks, and repelled them in the way of sharp repartee. Personalities
followed, and wo separated without the usual courtesies of Christian friendship:
yea, moreover, some of us expected to meet again that very evening at our wv -kly
500 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
prayer or fellowship meeting. It so happened that another student and 1 had
taken a walk after the meeting with our much loved American friend, who, once and
again in the course of our walk, indicated a good deal of chagrin at the remarks
of one of the critics. It was an afternoon in March, when the sun was setting
rather early than otherwise; and just as we were about to part for our respect-
ive lodgings, our companion called a halt, turned round towards the West, pointed
to the glorious solar orb, going down over the Costorphine Hills, and solemnly
pronounced these words, " Let not the sun go down upon your wrath! " "I
was not thinking of that," said Codman, as if roused from a reverie, — " but do
you think I could get to C ," (the fellow-student whom he felt that he had
used rather harshly,) " before the sun goes down .^ " "I think we ma}-," said I ;
and leaving our companion to find his way home, and pleased no doubt with
having made the suggestion, off we set for the house in Charlotte Square, where
C resided as tutor, and making good use of our locomotive energies, we found
ourselves on the steps of the mansion, just as the last rays of the sun were set-
ting in the sky. We met the friend we sought. It was my lot to detail the
circumstances of the suggestion thus promptly and liberally acted on, and with
much good feeling, and not a little jocularity, the breach was " southered up "
and the brotherly kind relationship at once restored. Haifa century has rolled
away .since this incident occurred. I am now the only survivor of the parties con-
cerned; and no reason now exists why I may not give their names. The friend
who made the remark was Mr. James Denoon, afterwards minister, first of Sha-
pinshav, in Shetland, and then after at Rolhsay, in the Island of Bute. The friend
most deeply concerned was Mr. James Clason, afterwards minister of Dalzel in
Lancashire, and brother of Dr. Patrick Clason, Principal Clerk and late Moderator
of the General Assembly of the Free Church of Scotland.
Of the Society of brothers then associated for mutual improvement, few arc
now alive. Of all, I retain a lively and affectionately pleasing impression; for
the memory of those d?*ys is sweet and " sunny;" Avhile those who remain,
although years and rolling Atlantic waves have separated us, live in fond remem-
brance. I say of them and to them, as Howard did to AVesley, " when we meet
again, mfiy it be in Heaven, or further on the way to it."
In regard to the impressions of his fellow-students at Edinl)urgh, with respect
to Mr. Codman, I may just say that one opinion only obtained among us. We
loved him much as a man of affectionate and kind manners; we respected his
abilities and his literary attainments; and we " took sweet counsel " with him
in all the walks of personal and social experience. He had advantages above
most of us in having seen " foreign parts," and having studied in Seminaries
whose modes of instruction he was able profitabl}' to compare with ours. He
\\'as not a Presbyterian, but he was the next thing to it; and, had he remained in
Scotland and been admitted into our churches, he would have been among the
heroes of the disruption of 1843. lie sympathized sincerely with us in our
struggles, and his liberal and disinterested eflbrts in our behalf, in 1844, will
entitle him to a place in my remembrance in the character not merely of an early
friend but of a public benefactor.
With every wish for success in your valuable labourr,, and with feelings of
personal esteem, I am, my dear Sir,
Most faithfully yours,
ROBERT BURNS.
JOSHUA HUNTINGTON. 501
JOSHUA HUNTINGTON *
1806—1823.
Joshua Huntington was boru at Norwich, Conn., January 31, 1786.
He was the son of General Jedediah Huntington, a distinguished officer in
the war of the Revolution, and afterwards eminently useful in civil life, and
of Ann (Moore) Huntington, daughter of Thomas Moore of West Point,
New York, and sister of tlie late Bishop Moore of Virginia. His early
years were spent at home in the discharge of filial and fraternal duties, and
in the diligent pursuit of useful knowledge. His preparation for College
was commenced under the tuition of Jacob B. Gurley, Esq., preceptor of
the "Union School "in New London, where the family then resided, and
finished under that of the Rev. Frederick W. Hotchkiss of Saybrook. He
entered Yale College in 1801, and graduated in 1804. During his connec-
tion with the College, he became hopefully pious and joined the College
church. He commenced the study of Theology, shortly after liis gradua-
tion, and prosecuted it under the direction successively of President Dwight,
Rev. Asahel Hooker, of Goshen, and Rev. Dr. Morse, of Charlestown.
Mr. Huntington was licensed to preach the Gospel by the New London
(Conn.) Association, holding its session at Dr. Hart's, in Preston, in Sep-
tember, 1806. From the commencement of his pu])lic labours, he was
uncommonly popular, and at once drew the attention of several of the most
respectable parishes in New England. From Springfield, Mass., Ports-
mouth, N. H., and Portland, Me., he received invitations to preach with
reference to a settlement ; and the First church in Middletown, Conn, gave
him a formal call to become their pastor ; while another call was made out
for him, on the same day, from the Old South church in Boston, to become
colleague pastor with the Rev. Dr. Eckley. This latter call, after due
deliberation, he accepted ; and was ordained on the 18th of May, 1808, the
Sermon being preached by the Rev. Dr. Morse, and the Right Hand of
Fellowship delivered by the Rev. W. E. Channing ; both of which were
printed. Dr. Eckley died a little less than three years from that time,
when Mr. Huntington became sole pastor, and continued so till the close of
his life. He was married on the 18th of May, 1800, to Susan, daughter
of the Rev. Achilles Mansfield, of Killingworth, Conn.
Mr. Huntington laboured in his congregation with great zeal, and with a
good degree of success. He had an important agency also in originating or
conducting some of the early benevolent institutions of the Church, particu-
larly the American Education Society, the fornuition of which was resolved
upon in his study, in 1815. The Boston Society for the religious and moral
instruction of the poor, which was formed in 1816, and which accomplished
a great amount of good in various ways, was also very much identified with
his benevolent activity, and ho was its President as long as he lived. Vari-
ous other charities also found iu him an efficient and active patron.
The constitution of Mr. Huntington was always somewhat delicate, and
the amount of labour that devolved upon him in his various public rela-
tions, proved an over-match for his physical energies. Several times he had
•Dwighfs Fun. Senn.— MS. from the Rev. Daniel Huntington.
502 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
been obliged to Intermit his parochial labours for a season; but a little
relaxation, in the way of journeying anJ visiting, had been found sufficient
to bring back his accustomed vigour. In the spring and summer of 1819,
he experienced more than common debility, and resolved to try the effect
of another journey. Accordingly, he left lioston in company with hi.<j
friend, the Kev. Screno E. Dwight, on tlie lUth of July, on a journey b}
Saratoga Springs to Niagara, thence down Lake Ontario and the St. Law-
rence to Quebec, and thence up the St. Lawrence and Lake Champlain to
Whitehall. Here the two friends parted, after a prosperous journey of
more than seventeen hundred miles, to meet no more on earth. Mr. Hunt-
ington's health, until this time, bad seemed to be constantly improving;
but, as he proceeded towards Boston in the stage-coach, he became serious-
ly ill, and his disease proved to be the typhus fever. When he reached
Groton, distant but little more than thirty miles from his own home, he
found himself unable to continue his journey, and stopped at the house of
the Rev. Dr. Chaplin, the Congregational minister of the place. His dis-
ease soon took on an alarming form, and intelligence of it being communi-
cated to his family and flock. Mrs. Huntington, with several of tlie mem-
bers of his church, hastened to meet him ; but alas ! they went oidy to sec
him die. In the near view of death, his mind was perfectly trancjuil, and
he resigned himself into his Redeemer's hands without a chill of apprehen-
sion. He died on the 11th of September, 1819, in the twelfth year of his
ministry, and the thirty-fourth of his age. His remains were removed to
Boston, and his Funeral Sermon was preached by the Rev. Sereno E. Dwight,
from Philippians ill. 21. It was afterwards published.
Mr. Huntington was the father of six children ; one of whom, — a sou
bearing his own name, was graduated at Yale College in 1832. Mrs. Hunt-
ington survived her husband a little more than four years, and died Decem-
ber 4, 1823, aged thirty-two. She was distinguished for talents, accom-
plishments, piety, and usefuluess. Her memoir was written, not long after
her death, by the Rev. B. B. Wisner, her husband's successor in the min-
istry, and was republished in Great Britain, with a commendatory Preface
by James Montgomery. It has been extensively circulated on both sides
of the water.
I heard Mr. Huntington preach while I was a student in Yale College.
I remember him as a small but finely formed person, as sjieaking with much
animation and fervour, having a pleasant voice, and abounding in graceful
gesture; and his sermon, which was on "the Deluge," was written in a
highly figurative, — perhaps I may say florid, — style. His manner in the
pulpit, — as I gather both from tradition and from my own impression, — must
have been much more than commonly attractive.
riiO.M Tin; KEV. DAMKL HUNTINGTON.
Nkw London, December 29, 1853.
Dear Sir: My recollections of the earlier (lcvcloi)ments of my brother's char-
acter are few and faint. The ditiercnce between liis a^e and my own (about
three years) was sufficient in our boyhood to jjlace us in separate classes, and
give us different occupations and associates. In my ninth, and his twelfth, year,
I was a child in all respects; and I remember him as then moving in a higlier
sphere, despising the toys and trilies wliich occupied my time, and preferring
companions and amusements in which I could have no share.
JOSHUA HUNTINGTON 503
lie early manifested a maturity of mind, which rendered the common inter-
course of his school-mates distasteful to him ; and led him to choose as his com-
panions the few whose literary pursuits coincided with his own. lie was consti-
tutionally averse to every thing coarse and vulgar, and preferred a rural ramble
with a few of his more intelligent classmates, to any of the exciting sports which
would bring him in contact with the crowd. On his leaving home to complete
his preparation for College, I, in a great measure, lost .sight of him; and our per-
sonal intercourse was almost entirely suspended uutil he had entered the minis-
try, and 1 was myself a candidate for it. I have reason to believe, however, that
his course, during that interval, was influenced by the same eclectic taste, which
regulated his associations and habits in earlier years. Commencing his ministry
in Boston at an early period of that memorable controversy which separated the
Unitarian from other Congregational churches of Massachusetts; — as colleague
with one of the oldest members of the Boston Association, and feeling conscience
bound to pursue a course somewhat at variance with the opinion and practice of
that venerable man, aind distasteful to some estimable members of his church
and parish, and to multitudes in the surrounding community; — he had need of all
the conciliating power Avhich could be found in the most agreeable personal
appearance and deportment; and with that power he was armed in no ordinary
degree. Treating those from whom he was constrained to dissent with scrupu-
lous delicacy and uniform kindness, he never rendered himself needlessly offen-
sive, and never failed to command resjiect, at least as a gentleman and a Christian.
I am, Sir, yours with much respect,
D. HUNTINGTON.
EDWARD PAYSON, D. D *
1807—1827.
Edward Payson, a son of the llcv. Seth and Grata Payson, was born
at Rindge, N. H., July 25, 1783. His earliest years were characterized
by a remarkable intellectual and moral development. His taste for what-
ever is grand and beautiful in nature, his desire to gather information from
every source within his reach, and the great amount of knowledge which he
had actually accumulated, at a period when the intellectual faculties have
ordinarily but just begun to unfold, shadowed forth something of what he
was destined to be in mature life. His religious sensibilities date back to
the very dawn of intellect. "Whether it was owing to the extraordinary
religious culture to which he was subjected through the influence especially
of his mother, or to his being constituted with uncommon susceptibilities
to the power of religious truth, it is certain that his mind was strongly
directed to the subject of religion, while he was yet a mere child. There is
a tradition that, when he was not more than three years old, he was often
known to weep under the preaching of the Gospel ; and he would sometimes
call his mother to his bedside, that she might converse with him in relation
to the things that pertained to his everlasting peace.
His course preparatory to entering College was conducted chiefly by hi?
parents, though he studied, during part of the time, at a neighbouring
• Memoir prefixed to Lis Works.
504 TRINITARIAN CONGREG'ATIONAL.
Academy ; and withal, was occupied, to some extent, in labouring on a
farm. Though it was his father's most earnest desire that he might attain
to a decided Christian character, and be prepared, in due time, to enter the
ministry, he does not appear to have had much confidence in the early reli-
gious exercises of his son ; for he went so far as to say to him, — no doubt
with reference to his extraordinary power of controlling other minds, even
at that period, — " To give you a liberal education, while destitute of reli-
gion, would be like putting a sword into the hands of a madman." He
remained at home, pursuing his studies for several years ; and whether,
during this period, liis father became satisfied in regard to his Christian
experience, does not appear ; though it is certain that the aflfectionate soli-
citude which he manifested in his behalf, was afterwards I'emembered by
the son with the warmest gratitude.
He joined the Sophomore class in Harvard College in 1800, at the age of
seventeen. Here he maintained a highly respectable standing os a scholar,
though his exceedingly retiring manner probably rendered his literary
reputation somewhat less than it would have otherwise been. During his
College course, he continued to be, as he had been, from his earliest child-
hood, a most inveterate reader; but though he read with lightning-like
rapidity, he thoroughly mastered every work that he took in hand, and so
treasured its contents in his memory, that he was enabled ever after to
appropriate them, as occasion might require. He was graduated in 1803.
Shortly after leaving College, he took charge of an Academy, then
recently established in Portland ; and here discharged very acceptably the
duties of a teacher for three years. Daring the earlier part of his residence
here, he so far overcame his constitutional diffidence as to mingle consider-
ably in society, and he even, to some extent, joined in the fashionable
amusements of the day. But from the early part of 1804, his mind received
a more decided religious impression ; and it was henceforth manifest to all
that his spiritual and immortal interests had become with him a matter of
supreme regard. The occasion of this change was the death of a beloved
brother ; and those who knew most of the case were doubtful whether it
was the decisive change from spiritual death to spiritual life, or whether it
was the mere revival of a principle of true piety, which had been chilled
and checked in its growth by the influence of the world. At any rate, the
period above mentioned evidently marked an epoch in his religious history.
From this time, he seems to have aimed constantly at spiritual imj)rove-
ment, and to have acted habitually on the principle of doing every thing to
the glory of God. He joined the church in llindge, of which his father was
pastor, September 1, 1805, while on a visit to his parents, during one of
his quarterly vacations.
Though Mr. Payson had given most of his leisure to the study of The-
ology during his residence at Portland, and would, no doubt, if he had
entered the ministry with no further preparation, have been a commanding
and useful preacher, his standard of qualification for the ministerial office
was too high to permit him to enter upon it without a more thorough course
of study. He, accordingly, on resigning the charge of the Academy at
Portland, returned to his native place, and placed himself as a regular theo-
logical student, under the direction of his father. Here he remained dili-
gently engaged in his studies from August, 180G, till May of the next year;
during which time he was occupied chiefly in the critical study of the Scrip-
EDWARD PAYSON. 5()5
tures ; and it was to this no Joubt that he was indebted for much of the power
(tf his subsequent ministry. He had formed a definite opinion of the meaning
(if every verse in the Bible ; — a circumstance which rendered him ever after-
wards mighty in the Scriptures, and gave him a wonderful advantage in
meeting promptly and effectively the cavils of gainsayers. With his efforts
to prepare himself intellectually for his work, he joined the most earnest
attention to the business of spiritual culture; and his experience then, as at
every subsequent period, was marked by a perpetual alternation of joys and
sorrows, of hopes and fears, of struggles and triumphs. He was licensed to
preach, on the 20th of May, 1807, by tlie Association to which his father
belonged, and on the succeeding Sabbath commenced his ministrations in
the neighbouring town of Marlborough. Here he continued his labours
about three mouths, and had the pleasure of knowing that some were
brought to a practical knowledge of the truth through his instrumentality.
Mr. Payson, having received an invitation to visit Portland, his former
place of residence, determined to accept it ; though it was not accompanied
by any distinct overtures in respect to a pastoral charge. He reached
Portland about the close of August, and preached on the succeeding Sab-
bath ; and his labours were received with the strongest expressions of appro-
bation. Several congregations in the neighbourhood were earnest to engage
his services ; but, as he received, shortly after, a unanimous call from the
congregation at Portland, among whom he had long resided, and as his
parents and other friends favoured his acceptance of it, he resolved, after
much deliberation and earnest prayer, to give to it an affirmative answer ;
and accordingly he was ordained colleague pastor with the Rev. Mr. Kel-
logg, December 16, 1807, — his venerable father preaching on the occasion,
from I. Timothy v. 22.
Scarcely had he entered upon his pastoral duties, before his prospects
seemed, in some measure, clouded by severe and unexpected trials. His
health began almost immediately to sink under the pressure of care and
responsibility incident to his new situation ; and, for a considerable time, it
seemed doubtful whether the beginning would not be nearly identical with
the end of his ministerial course. At the same time, the political aspect of
the country appeared deeply ominous of evil : owing to the aggressions of
foreign belligerents and the restrictions on trade imposed by our own govern-
ment, commerce was well nigh completely paralyzed; and no town in the
United States felt this calamitous state of things more deeply than Port-
land. But, notwithstanding his manifold trials, he was enabled to stay
himself upon God and patiently await the issue of his visitations. In the
succeeding April, (1808,) owing chiefly to the reduced state of his health,
he visited his friends at Rindge ; and, after passing two months with them,
during which his health was but little improved, he went to Boston to seek
medical advice, and was there encouraged to hope that he might soon with
safety resume his labours. In the early part of July, we find him again at
liis post, labouring in great bodily feebleness indeed, but with untiring zeal
and fidelity, and not without evident tokens of the Divine favour.
On the 8th of May. 1811, Mr. Payson was married to Ann Louisa Ship-
man of New Haven, Conn. ; a lady every way qualified for the important
station to which her marriage introduced her. In December of the same
year, the senior pastor's relation to the church was dissolved, in consequence
of which the sole charge devolved upon himself.
Vol. II. 64
506 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
In 1821, he was honoured with the dogrco of Doctor of Divinity from
Bowdoin College. But he writes to his mother in reference to it, — " I beg
you not to address your letters to nic by that title, for I shall never make
uae of it."
In 18"25, at the organization of tho new church in Hanover Street, Bos-
ton, he was invited to become its pastor ; but, liaving ascertained tliat it
was the wish of his own church that he should remain with them, he
promptly declined the invitation. Anothor call was extended to him in Jan-
uary, 182G, from the church in Cedar Street, New York, then vacant by tho
death of Dr. Romeyn ; but to this also lie responded in the negative. This
call was subsequently repeated under circumstances which occasioned him
some embarrassment in respect to the question of duty ; and it was finally
agreed between him and the church to refer it to the decision of a mutual
council. The question proved no less perplexing to the council than it wa.s
to himself; and their result was such as to do little towards relieving him
from embarrassment. Providence, however, quickly decided the question
for him, by so far increasing the maladies from which ho had long suffered,
as to render it almost certain that his earthly labours had nearly reached
their termination. In May following, he journeyed extensively for tho
benefit of his health in New England and tho State of New York, and
finally stopped a short time at Saratoga Springs, where he was met by a
third application from the Cedar Street church, accompanied by various let-
ters and messages from distinguished clergymen, strenuously urging his
acceptance. Though his views of duty underwent no change, and he still
continued inflexible in his purpose to decline the call, this last application
is said to have occasioned him no small uneasiness, atid to have so wrought
upon his nervous system, predisposed to a state of great excitement, as
effectually to counteract the beneficial effect of his whole journey.
Towards the close of April, 1827, his disease had made such progress that
he found himself utterly unable even to attempt any public service ; and, as
he was not willing that the interests of his congregation should suffer on his
account, he magnanimously tendered to them the resignation of his charge,
which they as magnanimously and without hesitation declined to accept.
The correspondence which took place on this occasion was honourable alike
to minister and people ; evincing, on his part, the most scrupulous delicacy
and a deep concern for their spiritual welfare, and on theirs, a most con-
siderate regard for his comfort and a truly grateful appreciation of his char-
acter and services.
On the 5th of August, he visited the house of God for the last time ; it
being just twenty years from the time that he commenced his labours there
as a minister. It was on the occasion of the admission of twenty-one per-
sons to the Communion of the church. Ue was assisted into the place of
worship by his senior deacons, and, though he took no other part in the
service than the reading of the Covenant to the candidates for Commu-
nion, his strength was scarcely adequate even to so slight an effort. At
the close of the service, many of his beloved flock pressed around him to
hear his voice, and to receive the affectionate pressure of his hand, as it
proved, for the last time.
From this period to the time of his death, — October 22d, his strength
gradually declined, his disease acquired continually increasing power, while
his religious affections were more lively, his perceptions more clear, his
EDWARD PAYSON. 507
joys more intense, than in any preceding part of his life. As he approached
the last conflict, his bodily suflerings might have been compared to those of
a martyr on the rack or in the fire ; — the language in which he described
them has scarcely a parallel in any thing not uttered by the tongue, or
written by the pen, of inspiration ; but his mind, amidst all those tortures,
acted with an energy that seemed superhuman ; his imagination kindled
into a seraphic glow ; his countenance wore an unearthly aspect ; and
he spoke as if he were already within the gates of the Heavenly City.
Happily, many of his dying sayings were preserved, and will no doubt be
preserved always ; and, whatever may be attributed to the peculiar consti-
tution of his mind, or to the undue action of the nervous system upon the
intellectual powers, there will still be found that in his death-bed exercises,
that roust be allowed to constitute an extraordinary testimony to the all-
fustaining power of Christian faith.
He requested that, after he was dead, a label should be attached to his
breast, bearing the inscription, — " llemeraber the words which I spake unto
you, while I was yet present with you ;" that thus he might continue to
preach, even after he should be a corpse. This request was of course com-
plied with ; and the same words were subsequently engraven on the plate
of his coffin. The sermon at liis funeral was preached by the Rev. Charles
Jenkins,* from 2 Tim. iv. 6-8. " I am now ready to be ofi'ered," &c.
Dr. Payson was the father of eight children, six of whom, together with
their mother, survived him. One of them, who is the wife of Professor
Ho{)kins of AVilliams College, — a highly gifted lady, has since become well
known to the religious public by various interesting and useful productions
of her pen.
The following is a list of Dr. Payson's publications: — A Discourse before
the Bible Society of Maine, 1814. A Thanksgiving Sermon, 1820. An
Address to Seamen, 1821. A Sermon before the Marine Bible Society of
Boston and its vicinity, 1824. K Sermon in behalf of the xVmerican Edu-
cation Society. [This Sermon was published in the National Preacher,
after the author's death, though it had been prepared and furnished for pub-
lication by himself.]
Since his death, a large number of his Sermons, &c. have been published
in different forms, but his works arc now all collected in three octavo
volumes, the first of whicli is occupied chiefly with an interesting and faith-
ful Memoir of the author, by his intimate friend, the llev. Asa Cummings,
D. D.
* Charles .Jenkins was born in Barrc, Ma?s., August 28, 1786; was graduated at Wil-
liams College in 1813; taught the Academy at Westlield two or three years after his gradua-
tion; was a Tutor at AVilliams Collrgc from 181(5 to 1819, during which time he prosecuted hia
theological studies ; was ordained tlic first pastor of the i^eeoiid church in Greenfield, Mass.,
May I'J, l.S2(), and was dismissed in .luly, 1S2 1. On the 'Jth of November, 1825, he was instal-
led pastor of a church in Portland, Me., and died suddenly of influenza, December 211, 1831,
aged forty-five. He published three .Sermons on the Fabbath, with Kemarks on the Report in
Congress on Sabbath Mails, ISIJO; also a Sermon on the elevated nature of true piety, in the
National Preacher, IS.'U. A small volume of his Sermons was published after his death. The
American Quarterly Register speaks thus (if him: — '* He possessed an original and extremely
fertile mind. AVith a rich poetical imagination, he invested every subject in beauty and fresh-
ness. Sometimes perhaps be failed in simplicity of style, and in ada|iling his aiethod of
instruction sufficiently to the understanding of minds less elevated than his own. He was a
powerful extempore speaker, though he chose generally to write out his sermons in foil, ile
had great simplicity of aim, and seriousness of manner, and the humility of a little child."
508 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
FROM THE REV. ABSALOM PETERS, D. D,
Willi AjiSTOWN, December 15, 1847.
My dear Sir: My impressions of Dr. Payson are amon^ the most interesting
and abiding of my ciierished recollections of men and things, as they were
twenty years ago. There is no one of the honoured and revered of his time, the
picture of whose living form I would more gladly retouch and present anew to
my own memory. So far, therefore, as the eifort may enable me to collect my
own thoughts on this subject, you have imposed on me a pleasant work. And
yet I feel that the undertaking is difficult. It is not an easy task to place before
your readers a portraiture to the life of one whose physical and p.sychological
idiosyncrasies are so imperfectly resembled in the experience of men of ordinary
temperament and feeling.
It was in the last years ef his life, after his character had become fully devel-
oped, that my personal acquaintance with Dr. Payson began. He was in tlie
midst of an admiring and affectionate people; and, though his physical health
was already much impaired, he was on his feet, and awake, even beyond liia
ability, to the calls of duty, — ready to every good work.
He was of medium height, good proportions, a little stooping in his posture,
hair black, face angular, and features strongly marked with expressions of quiet
benevolence and decision, eyes dark and full, — slightly retired under a brow
somewhat raised, and a prominent forehead, — {placid and a little downcast in
their ordinary expression, but keen and scrutinizing, when raised and fa.stened
on an object. In his silence, his countenance was marked with care and thought-
fulness, which were awakened in conversation into the most vivid expressions of
mental activit}^ and emotion.
The lively interest I had felt in his character was fully sustained by personal
intercourse. And yet I was disappointed. His holiness did not impose that
restraint upon my own freedom in his presence which 1 had expected. It seemed
the most natural thing in the world. There was no austerity, no aflfectatiou of
goodness, no wrapping of himself up in cautiousness. His whole heart appeared
open and transparent, while his manner was meek, cheerful, and inviting, put-
ting one wholly at ease by its unostentatious familiarity and kindness.
His power of conversation was perhaps among the mo.'^t remarkable of his
gifts. Like the "philosopher's stone," it seemed to turn every thing that it
touched into gold. He was ever awake to " the end of (his) conversation, —
Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever." Circumstances,
persons, topics, and occasions, were all made use of to produce some religiotis
effect; and he seemed conscious of his power to direct any subject to this end.
He was accordingly free and unrestrained in taking up the topics which others
had introduced, and his discernment of character, which was quick and often
surprisingl)' accurate, greaily contributed to the readiness Avith which he adapted
himself to every variety of persons.
He had at his disposal, withal, much of what may be called small change, in
conversation, which so enhances the pleasure of familiar intercourse. He was
often facetious, playful, quaint, and witty; and yet he would say little things,
and relate amusing anecdotes and imaginings, in a chaste, delicate, and harmless
way. The smile that played on his countenance, was subdued and quiet, as if
he were conscious of the presence of spiritual realities. With the utmost ease,
therefore, and without producing the slightest impression of incongruity, he
would pass from playfulness to the deepest seriousness. So natural was the
transition that one would hardly notice the change. His facetiousness indeed
was ever a near neighbour to his piety, if it was not a part of it; and his mo.st
cheerful conversations, so far from putting his mind out of tune for acts of reli-
gious worship, seemed but a happy preparation for the exercise of devotional
EDWARD PAYSON. 509
feelings. Hence his instructions and prayers, in the family, and in the social
circle, where he liad given full play to his conversational powers, were often the
most thrilling and eloquent of his religious performances.
The same was true of his counsels and devotional exercises in the house of
alRiction. There too, as v.'ell as in the social circle, he was excited; and whatever
awakened his mind to activity, and his heart to emotion, whether cheerful or sad,
alike prepared him to enter, with his whole soul, into the sympathies of religion
and religious worship.
He was also ready and apt, and at the same time delicate and unobtrusive, in
his reproofs to the careless, in the occasional circumstances in which he was
placed. " "What makes you blush so ?" said a reckless fellow in the stage, — to a
plain country girl, who was receiving the mail-bag at a post office, from the hand
of the driver, — " What makes you blush so, my dear ?" " Perhaps," said Dr.
Payson, who sat near him, and Avas unobserved until now, — " Perhaps it is
because some one spoke rudel}' to her, when the stage was along here the last
time." This delicate rebuke, thus quietly administered, was no doubt made the
occasion of profitable conversation, and it would not be surprising if the young
man who was thus made ashamed of his manners, was led on by the kind
interest of his reprover, from one topic to another, till he was made ashamed of
himself as a sinner before God.
Of Dr. Payson, as a preacher, I can hardly say enough to answer your purpose,
without saying too much. His sermons which are already before the public,
show the richness and fertility of his mind; his deep knowledge of the Scrip-
tures and experience of the truth; his faithfulness; his happy, various, and bril-
liant powers of illustration; and the deeply earnest and evangelical tone of his
ministry. And there is enough of feeling and emotion in the printed sermons
themselves, to indicate that the living man who uttered them, was by no means
confined to his manuscript. Their delivery must have been attended with many
of those extemporaneous effusions and impulsive appeals, which render the
words of the living preacher so much more interesting and etfective than the
reading of his book. But to give the picture of such a man, or even a glimpse
of his appearance and manner, as he stood up before the living of his day, is no
easy task; and those who knew Dr. Payson best, will most feel, with me, the
difficulty of the undertaking.
His appearance in the pulpit Avas meek and unpretending. His voice was
not remarkably smooth, nor Avas it trained to the rules of art. Yet it was full,
animated, and distinct in its enunciations, and of more than ordinary flexibility
and compass. To a stranger it was not especially attractiA^e nor commanding.
But to his own people, and to others Avho were accustomed to associate it Avith
the earnest piety of the man, it was a voice of great power. In his impassioned
appeals, its tones were inexpressibl}" thrilling, AA'hile they were sufficiently varied
to indicate the changing emotions of the speaker, and to awaken the corresponding
sympathies of the hearer. His action was not exuberant. He spread no sails
merely to catch the wind; but his thoughts, and feelings, and utterances were
evidently moved by a power within. His whole manner was elaborated by the
conceptions and emotions which it was needed properly to express. It was
accordingly his own, — a part of himself. Its leading characteristics were aflfec-
tionateness, earnestness, and sincerity. These constituted the charm of his
preaching. He administered the most pungent, direct, and uncompromising
rebukes and denunciations, in tones of tenderness and aflfection.
His eloquence, then, was not vaunting, nor studied, but simple and honest; an
eloquence which is ever destined more to be felt by the hearer, than to bo
admired. The people did not know that he was eloquent, but they loved to hear
him preach.
510 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
As a pastor, Dr. Payson was kind, afToctionatc, solicitous, pains-taking, and
laborious. From what I have said of his conversational powers, it is apparent
that liis personal and social influence among his people must have been very great.
And his success in winning souls to Christ, and the estimation in which he wag
held by iiis parish, fully justify such a conclusion. He pos.sessed, in the highest
degree, the atl'ections of his people; and these affections were but a suitable return
for his own. "Love" was " the loan for love." This reciprocal bond of union
and synipiitliy had been cementing for many years, when it became my privilege
occasionally to meet both the pastor and his people, to hear their remarks, to wit-
ness their care for each other and their mutual willingness to bear one another's
burdens, and so fulfil the law of Clirist. The result is that 1 iiave no hesitation
in subscribing to the correctness of the general impression concerning Dr. Pay-
son, — that he was among the very best of Christian pastors.
A single incident which fell under my own observation, may help to give you
some idea of him, as he was in the last year of his ministry. In the autumn of
182G, about a year before his death, I was with him in the administration of
the Lord's Supper to his church. The paralytic affection, which at length termi-
nated his life, had already begun the prostration of his system. His right side
was nearly deprived of muscular action, so that he dragged himself with difficulty
into the house of God; and his addresses at the communion table were unspeak-
ably all'ecling. It seemed as if lie might say with the beloved and venerable
John, " Little children, it is the last time." It appeared probable that the
church would never again receive the sacred symbols at his hand; and there was a
breathing of soul in the tenderness of parting affection, which I have never witnessed
on any other occasion. In the afternoon, I preached from the words of our
Saviour, — John viii. 21., — " I go my waj', and ye shall seek me, and sliall die in
your sins." In some extempore remarks at the close of my discourse, addressed
to the imiienitent, I said that, having delivered our message, having presented the
invitations of the Gospel and urged them by the terrors of the Lord, we had done
all that, as ambassadors for Christ, we were commissioned to do, excepting to
commend our hearers to God, and the word of his grace, — and added, " We have
no hand, by which to reach forth and take hold on your inner man and compel you
to come in," &c.
As I sat down. Dr. Pa3^son rose, limped up to the front of the pulpit, with his
palsied arm hanging useless by his side, and turning it significantly towards
the congregation, said — *' True we have no hand .'" He then proceeded, in tones
of inimitable tenderness and concern, to speak of his own impotency to save his
impenitent hearers, told them how he had laboured for their good, preached
Christ to them, cared and prayed for them, twenty years, and how sad and
painful was the thought, that his own time on earth was now near its close, and
that so many of his dear people, who had been so ready to minister to his neces-
sities, were yet unconverted. Once more then he would call them to repentance,
as a dying man, who would not, for ten thousand worlds, be obliged, by their
persevering rejection of a Saviour's love, to accuse them unto the Father, in the
day of wrath. The effect was more than electrical. I looked on that decrepit
man, — one half of his body as good as dead, and then on the people, — that
immense congregation literally melted into one mass of feeling and sympathy, —
not tearful only, but weeping, — every man's conscience "accusing or else excu-
sing," liim, as if before God in the Judgment, — and I felt what power there is in
truth and love, from the throne of Grace, though it be borne in a broken, earthen
vessel.
Most afFectionately and truly yours,
A. PETERS.
EDWARD PAYSON. 51 X
FROM THE REV. JONATHAN COGSWELL, D. D.
PKOFESSOR IN THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINAEY, EAST WINDSOR.
New Brunswick, N. J., November 24, 1849.
Rev. and dear Sir: My acquaintance with Dr. Payson was quite intimate for
*bout eighteen years. He was one of the council by which I was ordained. We
were members, for a number of years, of the same ministerial Association, and
of several benevolent Societies; often met in ecclesiastical councils; and, as we
lived near each other, occasionally exchanged pulpits and enjoyed frequent
social intercourse.
Dr. Payson's Theology was that of the Assembly's Catechism; but his ser-
mons did not generally consist of elaborate discussions. He once said to me
that it was his aim to preach the doctrines in the proportion he found them in the
Scriptures; and added, quoting a passage from John Xewton, that he thought
the doctrines should be like sugar in tea, — only tasted in the cup. His sermons
were experimental, always addressed to the conscience and heart, as veil as to
the understanding, and always expressing the deep feeling of his own heart, and
sometimes accompanied with many tears. The consequence was, that his
audience was always serious and attentive, and often deeply impressed. There
was something peculiar in the manner in which he commenced his prayer. He
always paused when the congregation rose, till there was perfect stillness in the
house; then he began, and it seemed almost as if he were talking with his
Heavenly Father, face to face.
Dr. Paj'son was systematic in his arrangements for the promotion of piety and
harmony in his church. There were a number of places where his people could
meet for 2^ra3'er without his presence. In this way all were accommodated with
a weekly neighbourhood prayer-meeting. In addition to his weekly meeting for
inquirers and a weekly lecture, he had a quarterly Fast for his church, at the
close of which, after a solemn address, they united with him in pra)'er, in which
they solemnly renewed their covenant with God and with one another. Once, I
know, after receiving manifest proofs of the covenant faithfulness of God, a day
of Thanksgiving was substituted for a Fast.
As an illustration of the results of Dr. Paj^son's ministry, 1 may mention that
his churcli became mucli the most numerous in Maine. The house of worship
was enlarged once or twice. Though, when the separation took place between
him and the senior pastor, some of the old wealthy families withdrew from his
charge, his congregation was still prosperous, — consisting of the active and enter-
prising, and contributed for the support of Missions and other charitable objects,
more than any other in the State. lie always took the precedence in acts of
benevolence. I recollect that, when we were first called upon to contribute for
Foreign Missions, and the spirit of active benevolence had scarcely begun to be
awakened in the churches, he evinced a degree of liberality in his contributions,
which occasioned no little surprise in the circle of his own friends.
To say that Dr. Payson was a man of prayer, as this is generally understood,
is to give but a faint idea of the actual reality. Prayer with him was labour,
which occupied a very considerable portion of his time, — sometimes the midnight
hour, associated with some pious brother. 1 call it labour, not because it was
irksome, and performed merely from a sense of duty, but because it was like
the wrestling of Jacob, — it brought into exercise all the faculties and affections
of his soul, and the language of his heart, if not of his lips, was that of the
Patriarch, — " I will not let Thee go except Thou bless mc."
Once, he was induced bj' his friends, who offered to lend him money without
interest, to purcha.-;e a house mortgaged to a bank, to be sold at a very lov,' price.
He was assured that it would not be redeemed. After he had expended about
512 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
.1 thousand dollars^ it loas redeemed, by which he lost all that he had expended.
1 saw hiin afterwards, and found him meditating with great interest on the lan-
guage of the Apostle in Hebrews x. 34. As he wa.s allowed nothing for what he
had paid, a wealthy member of the Unitarian Society, in consideration of the
base treatment he had received, gave him a check to make good his loss.
Though Dr. Payson was, by no means, deficient in general knowledge, he
never sought for literary or scientific distinction. He was wholly devoted to the
work to which God had called him; and I have known no man of whom it could
be said more emphatically than of him, that he made full proof of his ministry.
With much respect, in the fellowship of the truth, yours,
J. COGSWELL.
ABRAHAM BURNHAM, D. D *
1807—1852.
Abraham Burnham was born in Dunbarton, N. H., November 18,
1775. He was a son of Samuel and Mary Burnham, who removed from
Ohebacco, (now Essex,) Mass., and were among the earliest settlers of
Dunbarton. They had been hopefully converted under the preaching of
Whitefield, and were regarded as eminent for their piety. The family con-
sisted of thirteen children, and Abraham, being the seventh, occupied the
middle place, having six on each side of him. Four of the sons were
graduates of Dartmouth College.
The subject of this sketch, when he was about eight years old, went to
reside with a neighbour of his father, a Mr. Abraham Burnham, for whom
he was named, and continued with him till he was twenty-one years of age.
At the age of fourteen, he formed the purpose of obtaining a liberal educa-
tion ; but did not, at that time, take any steps for the accomplishment of
his object, as he had given his word to the person with whom he lived that
he would remain with him till he was twenty-one. He, however, availed
himself of evenings and whatever intervals of leisure he enjoyed, for useful
reading ; and lie contrived by extra labour to purchase a ))Ook, and when
he had made himself master of it, would exchange it for another.
As soon as he had reached his majority, he began, in accordance with his
long cherished resolution, to fit for College. But, after a few months, he
was obliged to give up his studies on account of the weakness of his eyes ;
and he engaged for some time in the business of teaching, and also returned,
to some extent, to his labours on the farm. In June, 1801, he resumed his
preparation for College. His teachers, during his preparatory course, were
successively a Mr. Janiieson, afterwards a lawyer in Goffstown, his brother,
Samuel Burnham, then Pi-incipal of the Academy in Tyngsborough, and
his pastor, the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Walter Harris. In August, 1802, he
entered the Junior class in Dartmouth College, being then nearly twenty-
seven years old. The following division of his time for the day, indicates
what were his habits as a student: — "Six hours for close study — as close
as my weak and pained eyes would admit; -six hours for deep thought,
• MS. furnished by himself. — Noyes' Fun. Serm.
ABRAHAM BURNHAM. 513
reflection, and mentally reviewing my lessons ; eight hours for sleep ; one
for meals, and three for manual labour to pay for my board." He gradua-
ted with a high reputation as a scholar in 1804,
Immediately after leaving College, he commenced a school in Concord,
N. H., and continued it till May of the next year, when he accepted an
invitation to take charge of the Academy in Bradford, Mass. He had had
a general purpose, from the time that he resolved on a liberal education,
of devoting himself to the ministry ; and he had not only been the subject
of many serious convictions, but had indulged some faint hope that he had
experienced a radical change of character ; but he had not considered him-
self as having sufficient evidence of this, to justify him in making any direct
movements towards the sacred office. During a revival of religion, how-
ever, which occurred in the school, and extended to the parish, in the sum-
mer of 1806, — of which Harriet Newell and the first Mrs. Judson were
subjects, Mr. Burnham gained so much confidence in his own Christian expe-
rience that he determined no longer to postpone his preparation for the min-
istry ; and he accordingly tendered his resignation as Principal of the Acad-
emy, and in March, 1807, commenced reading Theology, under the direction
of the Rev. Dr. Parish of Byfield. In July following, after the brief
course of about four months, he was licensed to preach at Topsfield, Mass.,
by the Essex Middle Association."
Notwithstanding his immediate preparatory course was so very short, he
had been studying Theology more or less from the age of fourteen ; so that
his actual amount of theological furniture was much greater than would be
indicated by the length of time in which he y^2L^ formally a theological stu-
dent. Still, it was his intention, when he was licensed, to return to his
native place and continue his studies under his pastor, the Rev. Mr. Harris.
But, soon after he had reached Dunbarton, he received a request to supply
the Tabernacle church at Salem, Mass., — Dr. Worcester, the pastor, being
absent on account of his health ; and he accordingly went thither and sup-
plied for three months. Before this period had expired, he was invited to
preach four Sabbaths in Pembroke, N. H.; the result of which was that he
received and accepted an invitation to a permanent settlement there. He
was ordained March 2, 1808, at the age of thirty-three. The Sermon on
the occasion was preached by his former pastor, the Rev. Mr. Harris.
He continued in the active discharge of the duties of the ministry till
November, 1850, nearly forty-three years, when, at his own earnest and
repeated request, his people consented that he should resign his pastoral
charge. There was, at this time, no perceptible failing of either body or
mind ; but he thought that a younger man might occupy the place to better
purpose, and he had a strong desire that his people should be supplied with
a minister before his own departure. After he resigned his charge, his
health continued unimpaired till May, 1852, when he was visited with a
paralytic shock, which deprived him, in a great degree, of the use of his
right arm and leg. From this time, though he seemed to be gradually recov-
ering, he was constantly looking for the summons to depart. On Tuesday,
September 14, he was seized with an affection of the bowels, which soon
took the form of cholera morbus ; but it was not till after four or five days
that all hope of his recovery was given up. When asked if he was willing
to leave himself in the hands of God, he said, " Entirely ;" and then added,
Vol. XL 65
514 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
"When I gave up myself to God in conversion, 1 gave myself up to die."
On Tuesday the 21st of September, his eartlily career was closed.
In 1850, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by
Dartmouth College.
His ministry may be said to have been an eminently successful one.
Many instances of special revival occurred under his labours, and there was
rately, if ever, a Communion season, that did not witness to the addition of
some new members to the church. The number of communicants, during
his ministry, increased from iifty to two hundred and forty ; though large
numbers had been removed by death and by letter.
He was, for fifteen years. Secretary ot the New Hampshire Missionary
Society, and resigned the office in 1837, when the operations of the Society
had become so extensive as to require that its Secretary should devote to
its interests his whole time. He had much to do also in originating the
Academy at Pembroke, and was the President of its Board of Trustees
from the time it was founded till his death.
The following is a list of Dr. Burnham's publications : — A Political Ser-
mon entitled "Antichrist." A Sermon at the ordination of Amos W. Burn-
ham, at Rindge, 1821. A Sermon at the installation of the Rev. Luke A.
iSpofford, at Brentwood, 1825. A Sermon on the death of the wife of Dr.
Kittridge, 1827. A Sermon preached before the Hopkinton Association,
after the death of the Rev. Walter Harris, D. D., 1843. A Sermon on the
Fortieth Anniversary of his settlement in the ministry, 1848.
He was married to Anna Perly of Dunbarton, May 16, 1808. She died
on the 28th of December of the same year. On the 23d of January, 1810,
he was married to Mary White of Plaistow, who died October 18, 1813,
leaving two daughters. On the 15th of November, 1814, he was married
to Martha Barnard of Sterling, Mass., who died September 30, 1815, leav-
ing an infant daughter. And on the 19th of November, 1816, he was mar-
ried to Elizabeth Robinson of Exeter, N. H.
FROM THE REV. DANIEL J. NOTES, D. D.
PROFESSOR IN DARTMOUTH COLLEGE.
Dartmouth College, February 10, 1853.
Rev. and dear Sir: My particular acquaintance with Dr. Burnham commenced
about fifteen years ago, at the time of my settlement in the ministry at Concord,
which is but a short distance from Pembroke. From that time till near his
death, I knew him inthnately. We were members of the same Association of
ministers; we often exchanged pulpits on the Sabbath, and occasionally performed
for each other ministerial labour at other times. I was often in his family,
and enjoyed his society, when free from all the restraint which professional
character and labours might impose. I regard my acquaintance and frequent
intercourse with him, as among the most pleasant incidents of my ministerial
life; and I rejoice to pay this tribute to his memory.
The personal appearance of Dr. Burnham was not particularly prepossessing.
He was. rather below the usual stature; of a strong, muscular frame; thick-set
but not corpulent. His face was broad, open, and naturally pleasant; but it
sometimes bore an expression of severity, owing to the weakness of his eyes,
and the consequent difficulty of distinguishing objects which were before him.
He was often aln-iipt in his manner of speaking; but all who were acquainted
with him, knew th;it what he said was as devoid of severity as it was of guile,
and proceeded Von! as warm a heart as ever beat in the bosom of man.
ABRAHAM BURN HAM.
515
One of the most prominent features of Dr. Burnham's character was independ-
ence of thought and action. He Avas not rash or self-confident. He did not
lean to his own understanding. He was not regardless of the opinions of others
He not only sought wisdom of God, but counsel of man. But he believed, not
because others believed, but because he had sufficient evidence, as he thought,
to justify belief; and he acted, not because he was countenanced by others, but
because his conviction of truth and duty demanded action. When he had once
deliberately formed his opinion, though it might difier from that of others, it
was his opinion, and he was ready to abide by it.
In moral courage he was rarely equalled, never surpassed. He would have
done good service in a martyr age. He would have stood with all the firmness
of Luther before the Diet of Worms. He would not have quailed in the presence
of Ahab, and I have mistaken the man, if he would have fled from the face of
Jezebel. He dared to do his whole duty, whether duty consisted in acting or
not acting. He was always bold and fearless for what he believed to be the
truth, and could say yes or no, when occasion required, either in public or pri-
vate, wit*hout an apology, and if need be, with an emphasis.
But, though he was remarkable for the sterner attributes of character,
he was by no means deficient in those which are more mild and gentle.
He will be remembered by those who knew him best, quite as much for his
kindness of feeling and warmth of affection, for his assistance cheerfully rendered
in time of need, for his sympathy in trials, and for the offices of friendship and
love which he so generously performed.
Of the theological views of Dr. Burnham, which he embraced in early life, and
which he held firmly to the close, he has himself given the following account: —
" The doctrines which I had early embraced, and which I intended to preach as
plainly as I could, and to apply as faithfully as I could, — saying, after the example
of the prophet of old, ' Thou art the man,' — were the doctrines of the Reforma-
tion, emphatically so called, or the doctrines of grace, or the orthodox system
of doctrines; consisting of the entire depravity of the fallen race of Adam;
regeneration by the Spirit of God; personal, eternal election; justification by
faith in Christ, and the perseverance unto eternal life of all wiio were given to
Christ in the covenant of Redemption, renewed by the Holy Ghost, and justified
by the grace of God; as also all ether doctrines implied in these or inseparably
connected with them. I have made it an object to preach much upon the character
and work of the Mediator, upon the character and work of the Holy Ghost, and
upon the great danger of resisting the Holy Spirit. The above doctrines I
believe and preach, not merely because my minister and teacher in my youth did
so; not merely because the most learned, pious, and able writers of the Christian
era have believed, and taught, and preached these doctrines, but because I am
perfectly satisfied that they are the doctrines of the Bible." These doctrines he
exhibited with great clearness and earnestness; and so incorporated were they
into his habits of thought and into his Christian experience, that every practical
truth which he discussed was discussed doctrinally, and every doctrinal truth,
practically.
His style as a preacher was good, — for himself excellent; in perfect keeping
with his bold and vigorous thoughts, and well suited to give them additional
power. It was clear, concise, direct. He never made use of an unnecessary
word. He was an utter stranger to circumlocution. The nearest and most
direct road to the heart and conscience was the one he always chose. No one
ever complained that he did not speak so as to be understood.
His character as a pastor corresponded well with his character as a preacher.
Pastoral labour with him was labour for Christ and for souls, — out of the pulpit
as well as in it. In the parlour, the field, the workshop, as well as in the house
of God, he strove, Jby warning and instruction, by reproof and entreaty, to save
gjg TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
those who had been committed to his charge, and for whom he\raa to give account.
The Sabbath school, the religious literature of the day, and the social means of
grace, were made, so far as was in his power, to contribute rich spiritual
blessings to his people.
I might add that Dr. Burnham was the earnest friend of missions, the earnest
friend of education, the earnest friend of moral reforms. His only hope of the
success of these reforms, however, was in the Gospel of Christ. He suspected
the morality that was exalted above holiness ; the humanity that had nothing
of God in it; the philanthropy that rejected the cross.
I am, my dear Sir,
Very truly yours,
DANIEL J. NOTES.
FRANCIS BROWN, D. D.=*
1808—1820.
Francis Brown was tte son of Benjamin and Prudence Brown, and
was born at Chester, Rockingham County, N. H., January 11, 1784.
His father was a merchant, and had a highly respectable standing in society.
His mother was a person of superior intellect and heart ; and, though sho
died when he had only reached his tenth year, she had impressed upon him
some of the most striking of her own characteristics ; particularly her uncom-
mon love of order and propriety, even in the most minute concerns, and her
uncompromising adherence to her own convictions of truth and right. In
his early boyhood, he evinced the utmost eagerness in the pursuit of know-
ledge, and never suffered any opportunity for intellectual improvement to
escape him. At the age of fourteen, he ventured to ask his father to furnish
him with the means of a collegiate education ; but his father, in considera-
tion of his somewhat straitened circumstances, felt constrained to deny his
request. By a subsequent marriage, however, his circumstances were
improved ; and the new mother of young Brown, with most commendable
generosity, assumed the pecuniary responsibility of his going to College.
He always cherished the most grateful recollection of her kindness ; and,
but a few days before his death, he said to her with the deepest filial sensi-
bility, " My dear mother, whatever good I have done in the world, and
whatever honour I have received, I owe it all to you."
In his sixteenth year, he became a member of Atkinson Academy, then
under the care of the Hon. John Vose, and among the most respectable
institutions of the kind in New England. His instructer has rendered the
following testimony concerning him at that period: — "Though he made no
pretensions to piety, during his residence at the Academy, he was exceed-
ingly amiable in his affections and moral in his deportment. It is very rare
we find an individual in whom so many excellencies centre. To a sweet
disposition was united a strong mind ; to an accuracy which examined the
minutiae of every thing, a depth of investigation which penetrated the most
profound. I recollect that when I wrote recommending him to College, I
informed Dr. Wheelock I had sent him an Addison."
•Amer. Quart. Reg., XIII.
FRANCIS BRO"U*X. 517
Of the formation of his religious character, little more is known than that
it was of silent, yet steady growth. To his friends who stood around him,
as he lay on his death bed, he made the following statement: — "During my
sickness at Atkinson Academy, about the time the fever formed a crisis,
whilst in a (state of partial delirium, I had a view of the happiness of
Heaven : I was gently led on to the portal, and beheld a glory which I can
never describe. I was then conducted to the gate of hell, where I had a view
of the pit below. I fell asleep, and upon waking, thought I could not live.
Greatly distressed in my mind, I called for my mother, and asked her what I
should do. When she had counselled me, and directed me, as my case
required, I changed my position in the bed, and, for the first time in my
life, attempted to pray. After this, I had clear and impressive views of
the Saviour, succeeded by great enjoyment, such as I had never experienced
before. I felt a desire to go to College and become a minister." AVhat
importance he attached to these exercises, or what bearing they had upon
his ultimate religious character, it is impossible to ascertain. It would seem
probable, however, that, from this period, his mind was directed to the
attainment of the one thing needful ; though it was not till the year that
he became a Tutor in College that he made a public profession of his faith,
by connecting himself with the church in his native place.
In the spring of 1802, he joined the Freshman class of Dartmouth Col-
lege ; and, during the whole period of his collegiate course, was a model of
persevering diligence, of gentle and winning manners, and pure and elevated
morality. From College he carried with him the respect and love of both
teachers and students. Having spent the year succeeding his graduation, as
a private tutor in the family of the venerable Judge Paine of Williamstown,
Vt., he was appointed to a Tutorship in the College at which he had gradu-
ated. This office he accepted, and for three years discharged its duties with
great ability and fidelity, while, at the same time, he was pursuing theolo-
gical studies with reference to his future profession.
Having received license to preach from the Grafton Association, he
resigned his Tutorship at the Commencement in 1809, with a view to
give himself solely to the work of the ministry. After declining several
flattering applications for his services, he accepted an invitation from the
Congregational church in North Yarmouth, Me., to become their pastor;
and he was accordingly ordained there, on his birth-day, January 11, 1810.
Within a few months from this time, he was chosen Professor of Languages
at Dartmouth College ; but this appointment, he was pleased, greatly to
the joy of his parishioners, to decline. For the succeeding five years, he
laboured with great zeal and success among his people, while his influence
was sensibly felt in sustaining and advancing the interests of learning and
religion throughout the State. He was the intimate friend of the lamented
President Appleton ; and no one perhaps co-operated with the President
more vigorously than he, in increasing the resources and extending the influ-
ence of Bowdoin College.
A difficulty had existed, for several years, at Dartmouth College, between
President John Wheelock and the Trustees, having its origin in both pub-
lic and private causes, and finally becoming mixed up with the politics of
the State. President Wheelock, in June, 1815, brought a series of charges
against the Trustees before the Legislature of the State. In August of
the same year, the Trustees, acting on a provision of the Charter, removed
518 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Dr. Wheelock from the Presidency ; and, at the same time, elected Mr.
Brown in his place. He was inaugurated on the '27th of September follow-
ing. At the next session of the Legislature, an Act was passed to "amend
the Charter, and enlarge and improve the Corporation of Dartmouth Col-
lege," changing the name of it to a University, and adding to its Trustees
a sufficient number to control its corporate action. This Act was not
acknowledged by the Trustees of the College as valid. Other Acts were sub-
sequently passed, imposing a fine of five hundred dollars on any one who
should act in any capacity as an officer under the old Board. The former
Treasurer of the College adhered to what was called the University party,
taking with him the College Seal, Charter, &c.
An action was then brought in the State Court (Dartmouth College versus
W. H. Woodward) for recovery of tlie Seal, Charter, etc. It was argued
in September, 1817, by Jeremiah Mason, Jeremiah Smith, and Daniel AV'eb-
ster for the College, and John Sullivan and Ichabod Bartlett for the Uni-
versity,— the validity of the Acts of the Legislature being the turning
point. In November, 1817, Chief Justice Hichardsou delivered the opinion
of the Court against the College. An Appeal was immediatel^'^ taken to
the Supreme Court of the United States, where the case was argued by
Daniel Webster and Joseph Hopkinson for the College, and by John Holmes
and William Wirt for the University. Chief Justice Marshall gave the
decision for the College, February 2, 1819, in which all the Justices agreed
except Duvall. Justice Todd was absent.
During the period when the College controversy was at its height, and it
seemed difficult to predict its issue, Mr. Brown was invited to the Presi-
dency of Hamilton College, — a respectable and flourishing institution in
the State of New York. He did not, however, feel at liberty to accept the
invitation, considering himself so identified with the College with which he
was then connected, that he must share either its sinking or rising fortunes.
President Brown's labours were too severe for his constitution. He was
not only almost constantly engaged during the week in the instruction and
general supervision of the College, but most of his Sabbaths were spent in
preaching to destitute congregations in the neighbourhood; and, during his
vacations, he was generally travelling with a view to increase the College
funds. Soon after the Commencement in 1818, he began to show some
symptoms of pulmonary disease ; and these symptoms continued, and
assumed a more aggravated form, under the best medical prescriptions.
His last efi'ort in the pulpit was at Thetford, Vt., October 6, 1818. In
the hope of recovering from his disease, he travelled into the Western part
of New York, but no sul)stantial relief was obtained. In the fall of 1819,
with a view to try the effect of a milder climate, he journeyed as far South
as South Carolina and Georgia, where he spent the following winter and
spring. He returned in the month of June ; and, though he was greeted
by his friends and pupils with the most affectionate welcome, they all saw,
from his pallid countenance and emaciated form, that he had only come
home to die. As he was unable to appear in public, he invited the Senior
class, who were about to leave College at the commencement of their last
vacation, to visit liim in his chamber; and there he addressed to thcra,
with the solemnity of a spirit just ready to take its flight, the most perti-
nent and affectionate farewell counsels, which they received with every
expression of gratitude, veneration, and love. In hib last days and
FRANCIS BROWN. 519
hours, be e\inced the most humble, trusting, child-like spirit, willing to
live as long as God was pleased to detain him, but evidently considering it
far better to depart and be with Christ. His last words were, " Glorious
Redeemer, take my spirit." He died July 27, 1820.
He was married February 4, 1811, to Elizabeth, daughter of the Rev.
Tristram Gilman,* a lady whose fine intellectual, moral, and Christian qual-
ities adorned every station in which she was placed. She survived him
many years, and died on the 5th of September, 1851. They had three
children, — one of whom, Samuel Gilman, (now D. D.) is a Professor in
Dartmouth College.
The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon President Brown
by both Hamilton and Williams Colleges, in 1819.
The following is a list of President Brown's published works: — An
Address on Music, delivered before the Handel Society of Dartmouth Col-
lege, 1809. The faithful steward: A Sermon delivered at the ordination
of Allen Greeley, 1810. A Sermon delivered before the Maine Missionary
Society, 1814. Calvin and Calvinism; defended against certain injurious
representations contained in a pamphlet entitled, — "A Sketch of the Life
and Doctrine of the celebrated John Calvin;" of which Rev. Martin Ruter
claims to be the author, 1815. A Reply to the Rev. Martin Ruter's Let-
ter relating to Calvin and Calvinism, 1815. A Sermon delivered at
Concord before the Convention of Congregational and Presbyterian minis-
ters of New Hampshire, 1818.
FROM THE REV. CHARLES. B. HADDOCK, D. D.
PROFESSOR IN DARTMOUTU COLLEGE.
Dartmouth College, March 1, 1849.
Dear Sir: You were pleased, some months ago, to request me to give you my
Impressions of the character of the late President Brown. I comply with your
wishes the more readily, because that character never recurs to my thoughts,
without awakening something of the same vivid delight with which I venerated
him in his lifetime.
My acquaintance with the President was, for the most part, that of a pupil with
his teacher; — an undergraduate with the Head of the College. And yet it was
somewhat more than this; for it was my happiness, during my Senior j^ear, to
have lodgings in the same house with him, and to eat at the same table, in the
family of one of the Professors, and as one of a small circle, all connected with
College, and a good deal remarkable for the freedom and vivacity of their conversa-
tion. After graduating, I saw him only occasionally, until the last few months of
his life, which he passed here, near the close of my first year's residence at the
College as a teacher, — months in which the greatness of his character was still
more signally manifest than in anj' other circumstances in which I had seen him.
In recording my youthful impressions of so uncommon a personage, I may,
therefore, hope to be thought to speak not altogether without knowledge, though
it should be with enthusiasm.
Dr. Brown came to preside over the College, at the age of thirty-two, and in
rircunistances to attract unusual attention to his administration. It was during
a violent contest of opposing parties for the control of its afftiirs, and immediately
iifter ihe removal of his predecessor from otBce. Ilis qualifications and his offi-
* Tristram Gil.mav was a native of Exeter, N. H. ; was graduated at Harvard College in
17.')7; was ordained pastor of the church in North Yarmouth, Me., Decembers, 1769; and
died April 1, 1809, aged seventy-four.
520 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
cial acts were, of course, exposed to severe scrutiny, and could command tho
respect of the community at largo, only by approving themselves to the candid
judgment even of the adverse party. And I suppose it would be admitted, even
in New Hampshire, that no man ever commended himself to general favour, I
may say to general admiration, by a wiser, more prudent, or more honourable
bearing, amid the greatest and most trying difficulties. Indeed, such was his con-
duct of affairs, and such tho nobleness of his whole character, as displayed in his
intercourse with the Government of the State, Avith a rival institution* under the
public authority, and with all classes of men, that not a few who began with zeal
lor the College over which he presided, came at last to act even more from zeal
Inr the MAN who presided over it-
The mind of Dr. Brown was of the very highest order, — profound, compre-
hensive, and discriminating. Its action was deliberate, circumspect, and sure.
He made no mistakes; he left nothing in doubt where certainty was possible; he
never conjectured where there were means of knowledge; he had no obscure glimp-
ses among his ideas of truth and duty. Always sound and always luminous, his
opinions were never uttered without being understood, and never understood
without being regarded. There was a dignity and weight in his judgments,
which seem to me not unlike what constitutes the patriarchal authority of Wash-
ington and Marshall.
If not already a man of learning in the larger sense of that term, it was only
because the duties of the pastoral relation had so long attracted his attention to
the objects of more particular interest in his profession. Had his life been spared,
however, he would have been learned in the highest and rarest sense. His habits
of study were liberal, patient, and eminently pliilosophical; and within the
sphere which his inquiries covered, his knowledge was accurate and choice, and
his taste faultless. The entire form of his literary character was beautiful —
strong without being dogmatic; delicate without being fastidious.
His UEART was large. Great objects alone could fill it; and it was full of great
objects. There was no littleness of thought, or purpose, or ambition, in him —
nothing little. The range of his literary sympathies was as wide as the world
of mind; his benevolence as universal as the wants of man.
His PERSON was commanding. Gentle in his manners, affable, courteous, ho
yet, unconsciously, partly by the natural dignity of his figure, and still more by
the greatness visibly impressed on his features, exacted from us all a deference, a
veneration even, that seemed as natural as it was inevitable. His very presence
was a restraint upon every thing like levity or frivolity, and diffused a thoughtful
and comjwsed, if not always grave, air about him, which, never ceasing to be
cheerful and bright, never failed to dignify the objects of pursuit and elevate the
intercourse of life. A gentleman in the primitive sense of the word, — he was,
without seeking to be thought so, always felt to be of a superior order of men.
In no other instance was I ever so impressed with the moral greatness of the
Christian si)irit as by his conduct on a particular occasion. The scene is still clear
in my remembrance, after five and thirty years. It was while I Avas a student,
and boarding at tlie same place with him, very soon after he had come, a young
man, to assume the office, from which the venerable Wheelock had lately been
dismissed. There had been at tea, the evening before, an uncommonly earnest,
not to say heated, discussion upon some philosophical question. One of the
Professors, a Tutor, and several students, were present. We had just come to
the breakfast table; and the little space of silence that naturally follows tho
grace, was interrupted by the President in a tone of subdued and mellow emotion,
which I remember sensibly impressed me. "I wish to say. Sir," said he,
addressing the Professor, " that I much regret the intemperate expression into
which I was betrayed in the discussion last evening, and hope you will forgive
me for it. It was uncalled for and unbecoming."
FRANCIS BROWN. 521
I have no doubt that every individual of the company, already an admirer of
the President, was, from that time, more sensible than ever before, of the great-
ness of the MAN.
On the whole, it has been my fortune to know no man whose entire character
has appeared to me so near perfection — none, whom it would so satisfy me in
all things to resemble.
How much we lost in him, it is now impossible to estimate, and would perhaps
be useless to know. His early death extinguished great hopes. But his memory
is a treasure, M'hich even death cannot take from us.
With great regard, I am, dear Sir,
Your friend and obedient servant,
CHARLES B. HADDOCK.
FROM THE HON. RUFUS CHOATE,
MEMBER OF THE SENATE OF THE UNITED STATES.
Boston, June 20, 1856.
My dear Sir : It happened that my whole time at College coincided with the
period of President Brown's administration. He was inducted into office in the
autumn of 1815, my freshman year; and he died in the summer of 1820. It is
not the want therefore, but the throng, of recollections of him that creates any
diflBculty in complying with your request. He was still young at the time of his
inauguration; not more than thirty-one; and he had passed those few years,
after having been for three of them a Tutor in Dartmouth College, in the care of
a parish in North Yarmouth in Maine; but he had already, in an extraordinary
degree, dignity of person and sentiment; rare beauty, — almost youthful beauty
of countenance; a sweet, deep, commanding tone of voice; a grave, but graceful
and attractive demeanour — all the traits and aU the qualities, completely ripe,
which make up and express weight of character; and all the address, and firm-
ness, and knowledge of youth, men, and affairs which constitute what we call
administrative talent. For that form of talent, and for the greatness M-hich
belongs to character, he was doubtless remarkable. He must have been distin-
guished for this, among the eminent. From his first appearance befcre the stu-
dents on the day of his inauguration, when he delivered a brief and grave
address in Latin, prepared we were told, the evening before, — until they followed
the bier, mourning, to his untimely grave, he governed them perfectly and
always, through their love and veneration; the love and veneration of the " will-
ing soul." Other arts of government were indeed, just then, scarcely practica-
ble. The CoTlege was in a crisis which relaxed discipline, and would have placed
a weak instructer, or an instructer unbeloved, or loved with no more than ordi-
nary regard, in the power of classes which would have abused it. It was a crisis
which demanded a great man for President, and it found such an one in him.
In 1816, the Legislature of New Hampshire passed the Acts which changed
the charter of the institution; abolished the old Corporation of Trustees;
created a new one; extinguished the legal identity of the College; and recon-
structed it or set up another under a different and more ambitious name and a
different government. The old Trustees, with President Brown at their head,
denied the validity of these Acts, and resisted their administration. A domi-
nant political party had passed or adopted them ; and thereupon a controversy
arose between the College and a majority of the State; conducted in part in
the courts of law of New Hampshire, and of the Union; hi part by the press;
.•sometimes by the students of the old institution and the new in personal col-
lision, or the menace of personal collision, within the very gardens of the
Academy; which was not terminated until the Supreme Court of the United
States adjudged the Acts unconstitutional and void. This decision was pro
nounced in 1819; and then, and not till then, had President Brown peace, — a
Vol. V. 66
522 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
brief peace made happy by letters, by religion, bj'- the consciousness of a great
duty performed for law, for literature, and for the constitution, — happy even
in prospect of premature death. This contest tried him and the College with
extreme and various severity. To induce students to remain in a school dis-
turbed and menaced; to engage and inform public sentiment, — the true patron
and elfective founder, by showing forth that the principles of a sound political
morality as well as of law prescribed the action of the old Trustees; to confer
with the counsel of the (Jollege, two of whom, — Mr. Mason and Mr. Webstei
have often declared to me their admiration of the intellectual force and practi-
cal good sense which he brought to those conferences, — this all, while it with-
drew him somewhat from the proper studies and proper cares of his office,
created a necessity for the dis^jlay of the very rarest qualities of temper, dis-
cretion, tact, and command; and he met it with consummate ability and for-
tune. One of his addresses to the students in the chapel at the darkest
moment of the struggle, presenting the condition and prospects of the College,
and the embarrassments of all kinds which surrounded its instructers, and
appealing to the manliness, and affection, and good principles, of the students
to help " by whatsoever things were honest, lovely, or of good report," occurs
to recollection as of extraordinary persuasiveness and influence.
There can be no doubt that he had very eminent intellectual ability; true
love of the beautiful in all things, and a taste trained to discover, enjoy, and
judge it; and that his acquirements were competent and increasing. It was
the " keenness" of his mind of which Mr. Mason always spoke to me as
remarkable in any man of any profession. He met him only in consultation as
a client; but others, students, all nearer his age, and admitted to his fuller
intimacjr, must have been struck rather with the sobriety and soundness of his
thoughts, the solidity and large grasp of his understanding, and the harmo-
nized culture of all its parts. He wrote a pure and clear English style, and
he judged of elegant literature with a catholic, and appreciative, but chastised,
taste. The recollections of a student of the learning of a beloved and venera-
ted President of a College, whom he sees only as a boy sees a man, and his
testimony concerning it, will have little value; but I know that^he was
esteemed an excellent Greek and Latin scholar, and our recitations of Horace,
which the poverty of the College and the small number of its teachers induced
him to superintend, though we were Sophomores only, were the most agreeable
and instructive exercises of the whole College classical course.
Of studies more professional he seemed master. Locke, Stewart, with
whose liberality and tolerance, and hopeflil and rational philanthropy he sympa-
thized warmly; Butler, Edwards, and the writers on natural law and moral
philosophy, he expounded with the ease and freedom of one habitually trained
and wholly equal to these larger meditations.
His term of office was short and troubled; but the historian of the College
will record of his administration a two-fold honour; first, that it was marked
by a noble vindication of its chartered rights; and second, that it was marked
also by a real advancement of its learning; by collections of ampler libraries, and
by displays of a riper scholarship.
I am, with great regard, your obedient servant,
R. CHOATE.
LUTHER HART. 523
LUTHER HART *
1809—1834.
Luther Hart was bom in Goshen, Litchfield County, Conn., in July,
1783. He was a son of David and Hannah Hart, both of whom were
persons of exemplary deportment, though it was at a late period in life that
they became professors of religion. His mother, who belonged to a family
on Long Island, by the name of Hudson, possessed a mind of more than com-
mon vigour, and gave evidence of piety from her early years. The son was
distinguished in his childhood by his fondness for books, his ready capacity
for learning, and an uncommon love of music.
In the year 1799, soon after the commencement of the great revival of
religion that spread over a large part of Hartford and Litchfield counties in
Connecticut, and Berkshire county in Massachusetts, he made a public pro-
fession of his faith in Christ, — being then in his sixteenth year. From this
time, he felt an earnest desire to devote himself to the ministry of the Gospel ;
but the straitened circumstances of his father's family seemed to render it
necessary that he should remain at home ; and he actually did remain at
home for two or three years, labouring with his father as a house carpenter.
Late in the year 1802, or about the beginning of 1803, he commenced his
studies preparatory to entering College, under the instruction of the Rev.
Alexander Gillet of Torrington, the minister of the parish in which the
family then resided. In the autumn of 1803, he was admitted to the Fresh-
man Class in Yale College. Through his whole collegiate course he sustained
a high reputation for both scholarship and behaviour, and was graduated
in 1807, with one of the highest honours.
The first year after he left College he spent as a teacher in the Academy
at Litchfield, South Farms. At the close of the year he began his theolo-
gical studies under the direction of the Rev. Ebenezer Porter, then pastor
of the church in Washington, Conn.; but when, shortly after, the Seminary
at Andover was opened, he became a member of it, and was one of the first
class of its graduates. He was licensed to preach by the Essex Middle
Association of ministers, in Massachusetts, in September, 1809. He was
soon invited by the Congregational church at Plymouth, Conn., to preach
as a candidate, and in due time received a call to settle, and was ordained
in September, 1810; the sermon on the occasion being preached by the Rev.
Mr. Porter, his early theological instructer. The church of which he
became pastor had been somewhat distracted by hearing a variety of candi-
dates ; but he had not been long among them, before they were all more
than satisfied with his ministrations
In the year 1811, Mr. Hart was married to Minerva, only daughter of
General Potter of Plymouth, — a connection which proved greatly subservi-
ent to both his comfort and usefulness. Mrs. Hart survived her husband,
and still survives, (1852,) but they had no children.
In the course of Mr. Hart's ministry, there were four different
periods, at which there was an unusual attention to religion, followed by
large accessions to his church; — namely, 1812, 1824, 1827, and 1831.
* Christian Spectator, 1834
524 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Between four and five hundred were admitted to the Communion during
his whole ministry, who> with very few exceptions, have adorned their
Christian profession.
In the year 1818, Mr. Hart was associated with several other prominent
clergymen of Connecticut, as a Committee for the publication of Doctrinal
Tracts. One of these Tracts was written by himself, and was entitled
" Plain reasons for relying on Presbyterian ordination, in a letter to a
friend." Even those who do not adopt the views which it defends, concede
that it is marked by high ability. Mr. Hart had also an important agency
in the establishment of the Christian Spectator, and was, for a number of
years, one of the principal contributors to it.
For several weeks previous to the commencement of his last illness, he
had been unusually abundant in labours, both in and out of his own parish ;
and that, notwithstanding he was oppressed and enfeebled by a deeply seated
cold. On the 18th of April, 1834, he was seized with a lung fever ; but in
its earlier stages it was not deemed alarming. In the course of a few days,
however, it assumed a very threatening aspect, and on the 25th terminated
fatally. In the prospect of his departure he evinced a serene triumph, and
passed away in the transports of a lively faith. The sermon at his funeral
was preached by the Rev. Dr. Noah Porter, of Farmington, and the
substance of it was published in the Christian Spectator for September, of
the same year.
Besides the publications of Mr. Hart already referred to, are the follow-
ing: — A Christmas Sermon entitled "Salvation for lost men," 1818. A
Sermon at the installation of the Rev. D. 0. Griswold,* in Watertown,
Conn., 1825. A Sermon at the funeral of the Rev. Alexander Gillet, of
Torrington, together with a Memoir of his life and character, 1826. A
Memoir of the Rev. Amos Pettengill,t pastor of the Congregational church
in Waterbury, (Salem,) Conn., 1834.
•Darius Oliver Griswold was born in Goshen, Litchfield county, Conn.; was graduated
at Williams College in 1808; after being licensed to preach, laboured for some time in Western
New York; commenced preaching to the church at Saratoga Springs in 1815, but was not con-
stituted its pastor until February 12, 1822; was dismissed from his pastoral charge, August 17,
1823; was installed pastor of the church at Watertown, Conn., in 1825; was dismissed in 18.".:;.
and soon after again became pastor of the church at Saratoga Springs, where, after having
suffered a considerable time from paralysis, he died in 1841, aged fifty-four.
t Amos Pkttengill was born at Salem, N. H., August 9, 1780; was fitted for College partly
at Atkinson Academy, and partly at Phillips Academy, Exeter; was graduated at Cambridge
in 18U5; was licensed to preach in November of the same year by the Westford Association;
spent some time in missionary labour in the State of New York, and was installed at Chain-
plain, N. Y., July 9, 1807; was dismissed on account of the embarrassments of the times, after
a happy and successful ministry of five years ; afterwards preached two years at Manchester,
Vt., but declined overtures to settle there; was installed at Litchfield, South Farms, Conn.,
April 17, 1816, where his labours were attended b}' a powerful revival of religion; was dis-
missed, by his own request, and with the cordial recommendation of the Consociation, on the
9th of January, 1822; was installed at Salem, (now Naugatuck,) Conn., January 1, 1823,
where he had not only a successful ministry, but rendered important aeri-ice to the cause of
education, — teaching a school for several successive winters; and died after an illness of about
five months on the 19th of August, 1830. He is represented as having had a richl}' endowed
mind and much more than ordinary classical and scientific attainments ; as having been mild
in his disposition, affable in his manners, warm in his Christian feelings, faithful in his pastoral
duties, and instructive and interesting in his public discourses. He published a View of the
Heavens, or Familiar Les.sons in Astronomy, for the use of schools, 1826 ; the Stellarota, — a
rotary celestial map, with a movable horizon, 1827; the Spirit of Methodism, 1829. He pub-
lished also several occasional Sermons, one of which was preached at Potsdam, N. Y., at the
ordination of James Johnson, 1812.
LUTHER HART. 525
FROM THE REV. LAWRENS P. HICKOK, D. D.,
PROFESSOR IN THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY AT AUBURN, AND IN UNION COLLEGE.
Auburn, November 29, 1848.
Rev. and dear Sir: My personal knowledge of Mr. Hart was slight, until my
removal to Litchfield in 1829. From that time till his death, — about live years,
our intercour.se was frequent and intimate. I respected him highly, and loved
him ardently. One of his marked characteristics was an indescribable expres-
sion of cheerfulness and hearty good will, diffusing its sweet savour wherever he
was, so that his presence and society were always sought. His brethren
delighted to visit and be visited by him. If unavoidably absent from any eccle-
siastical meeting or clerical association, a spontaneous regret Avas universal!}'-
felt. A lively turn of thought and raciness of expression, and quick and keen
discernment of men, and things, and topics of discussion and remarks, always
made him one of the most influential and profitable members of our ministerial
circle. With all this quickness and prompt and apt reply, there was ever a
candour and manly Christian sincerity, which bespoke the frankness and honesty
of his heart. In cases of difficulty and perplexity in ecclesiastical trials, church
dissensions, &c., especially if the trouble originated from some cunning and
crafty partisan or disguised mischief-maker, — at some fitting moment Mr. Hart
was sure, by some happy hit, — as an illustration, anecdote, or pithy saying, —
to expose the whole matter, and in such a way that, while the rebuke hit the
mark, the utmost good-humour was necessary to be exhibited by the person
exposed or reproved, for his own credit's sake.
He was a very faithful mentor and reprover, not in formal lessons, but in a
kind side turn, a gentle personal remark; and while you loved him the more for
it, yet you could never forget or disregard the admonition. In some graver cases,
especially in too great presumption or arrogance in young preachers, — I have
known him take the first opportunity in a walk, or other private manner, to
most faithfully, plainly, and effectually expose their faults to their own observa-
tion, and secure their esteem and generally their reformation.
His intercourse with his church and people was very frank and familiar; and
while he always was expected to reprove their faults in his own happy manner, —
sometimes from the desk, — yet he, from principle, habitually commended where
commendation was consistent. His method of expression was, — " I always give
full credit to my people, so far as I believe their consciences can take it." This
made them love him and confide in him, where he found it necessary to censure.
To the sick he was very attentive, and at the bed of the dying, plain, atiection-
ate, close in applying truth, exceedingly happy in hitting upon the right promise
for the person and occasion. The same trait of mind was also very conspicuous
in dealing with anxious persons, and more especially cases of spiritual despond-
ency. Some eminent examples of clear and long continued hope and comfort
have been known by me, as resulting from his interviews, where all was before
settled gloom and almost despair. Ilis quick discernment of character and state
of heart, from slight indices, made him a very useful helper in seasons of special
religious interest, and particularly in his labours with an awakening and enquir-
ing church after a time of declension.
His manner of preaching was serious, pungent, and discriminating. His ser-
mons abounded less in long drawn, methodical, logical arguments; but were
exceedingly rich in condensed, sententious thought and concise declaration, so
applied as to give what might have been the summary conclusion of a long dis-
cussion. Striking, new, and apt inferences and applications were abundant in
all his preaching. I have been delighted and surprised often at the flashing out
of some clear, bright truth from the text, at the closing of a sermon by him, all
526 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
plain and obvious when he had announced it, but altogether before overlooked,
and but for lii.s finding it, would have remained unobserved by me. I think hi.s
habitual {ii'eaching quite as profitable in the manner of instruction and impres-
.sion as that of any brother I have ever known. Less formal lectures for evening
services, communion occasions, church meetings, &c., were always rich, clear,
close, and impressive beyond all forgetfulness. Some of them come up to my
mind spontaneously every month.
I might say much more in the above strain of remark, but have exhausted
my present strength.
With great respect and affection,
L. P. HICKOK.
DANIEL HASKELL *
1809—1848.
Daniel Haskell, a son of Roger and Anna (Mix) Haskell, was born
in Preston, Conn, in June, 1784. His father was a farmer, and Daniel
spent his early years in labouring upon the farm. His father died while he
(the son) was yet quite young ; and as his mother, who was a lady of supe-
rior talents and acquirements, and of elevated Christian character, — was
afterwards married to the Rev. Solomon Morgant of Canaan, Conn., he
spent part of his time with her after her marriage. He fitted for College,
partly at Canterbury, Conn., and partly, it is believed, under Dr. Hart of
Preston. He entered Yale College in 1798, and was graduated in 1802.
In 1808-4, he taught a public school at Norwich, where he also instructed
a class of young ladies, one of whom was Miss Lydia Huntley, now Mry.
Sigourney, who has rendered a beautiful poetical tribute to his memory. In
1805, he was an assistant teacher in Bacon Academy, Colchester. In
180G-7, he was connected as a teacher with Lincoln Academy, New Castle,
Me. He afterwards spent some time as a student of Theology at Prince-
ton, under Dr. Samuel Stanhope Smith, and was licensed to preach by the
Association of Litchfield County, Conn. He preached for some little time
successively at Middletown and Litchfield, Conn., and afterwards at St. Albai\s,
Vt.; and from the latter place he was called to take the pastoral charge of
the church in Rurlington, Vt., where he was ordained on the 10th of April,
1810, — the Rev. John Hough of Vergennes, afterwards Professor in Middle-
bury College, preaching the sermon. He found the society in a somewhat
distracted and agitated state, and about that time the original Society was
divided, the one part being Orthodox, the other Unitarian. The same year
that he was settled, he was married to Elizabeth, daughter of Dudley Lea-
vitt, Esq., of Bethlcm, Conn.
Mr. Haskell continued the faithful and beloved pastor of this churdi
until the year 1821, when he was called to preside over the University of
Vermont. He preached occasionally during his connection with the Uni-
* MSS. from Mrs. Haskell and others.
t Solomon Morgan was a native of Canterbury, Conn. ; was not graduated at College; waf
ordained minister of the Second parish in Canaan in 179!) ; was dismissed in 1804; and died,
after a lingering illness, at Canaan, in 1809, in his sixtieth year.
DANIEL HASKELL. 527
versity, but never after his connection with it closed. He resigned his
office as President in 1824.
About two years after he became President of the University, hesufi'ered
a violent attack of inflammatory rheumatism. One of his limbs became
exceedingly swollen and painful, and he was confined, by order of his phy-
sician, for a considerable time, entirely to his bed ; but he at length impa-
tiently broke away, declaring that he would not live in such a position any
longer. By means of crutches, he was enabled to walk back and forth in
his room for exercise, which seemed to give him some relief; but it was
observed by his family that he would often stop, as he passed the looking-
glass, and remark, as he surveyed himself, that everything looked strange ;
and he sometimes inquired of his wife if things did not look strange to her
also. He continued in this state for some time, exercising and conversing;
but as his limb grew better, his mind became more disturbed, until it termi-
nated in decided derangement.
In consequence of the mental malady of which he now became the sub-
ject, he was separated from his family for many years, — some of which he
spent with a brother in Western New York and Ohio, and some of them
with other friends, and at diiferent institutions and places, for his recovery
and relief. At length he rejoined his family at Brooklyn, N. Y., where Mrs.
Haskell had taken up her residence with her mother. From this time he
seemed little disposed to return to any public labours, though he lectured
frequently in schools, and occasionally also before some Association. His
principal employment was the construction of school apparatus in which he
took great interest. His last labours were in superintending the American
edition of McCulloch's Geographical Dictionary, published by the Harpers
in 1843-44.
The following graphic account of Mr. Haskell's malady, and of the
closing part of his life, is extracted from a letter addressed to me by Mrs.
Haskell, dated Brooklyn, June 16, 1856 : —
"There is no printed memoir of ray husband: our mutual friend. Dr. C,
told me he thought there ought to be one, but I have had a morbid sensi-
tiveness upon the subject, which is foolish and perhaps wrong. I could not
myself make the slightest approach to any thing like a correct delineation of
his painful experience, — his untold agonies, — shut out, as he supposed him-
self, from a world of hope ; a wanderer — where, he could not tell ; sure
only of this, — that he had not passed the judgment. At the height of his
malady, there was a time (the night I well remember) when he supposed
himself to have passed out of this state of being — he knew it, and knowing
this fact, all hope for him was gone forever. Christ and his salvation were
only offered to sinners in the world where he once was — he would not suf-
fer himself to be deceived by false appearances — he would not believe a lie.
You may suppose that, in this state of mind, he would be incapable of
doing any business, or of finding any enjoyment in present things. This
was, for a time, the case ; his flesh wasted away and he had the look of
despair ; but it was not always so. In his latter years he was cheerful ; and
though he did not acknowledge any change of opinion, he lost, in a measure,
a sense of his miserable condition, and found it almost impossible to realize
what he supposed to be true. We said little to him upon the subject, and
he seemed not inclined to say much himself. In the prosecution of his
528 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
labours upon the Gazetteer, he was compelled to extensive researches and
correspondence, and he seemed to be much interested in the work.
" The last year of his life, his health gradually declined. He seemed to
wear out. He was quiet, placid, in patience possessing his soul, evidently
waiting the day of his appointed time till his change should come. A
change he knew must come — what communications the God of all power
and grace made to his darkened soul, — who can tell ? He did ask me to
pray with him ; and prayer had been one of the privileges which were not
for him. After some days of increased weakness, he was, after taking a
bath, seized with violent spasms. He never spoke again, and on the 9th
of August, 1848, he passed away, we are confident, to the place where
there is no darkness at all, and where, in the certainty of waking bliss, he
will remember no more the tribulation through which he has made his pas-
sage into the Kingdom of Heaven. We buried him in our beautiful Green-
wood."
Besides a Sermon preached at the ordination of the Rev. Hiram S. John-
son, Hopkinton, N. Y., in 1814, and two or three other occasional Sermons,
Mr. Haskell published, in connection with J. C. Smith, A Gazetteer of the
United States, octavo, 1843 ; a Chronological View of the world, duodecimo,
1845. One of his most important literary labours was the editing of
McCulloch's Geographical Dictionary.
FROM THE REV. SAMUEL MERWIN.
New Haven, June 16, 1856.
My dear Sir: Though my knowledge of Mr. Haskell, being limited chiefly to
my College life, will not enable me to say much in answer to your request, yet
my wish to oblige you, and I may add, my regard for his memory, will not allow
me altogether to decline it. If my memory serves me, he was among the
younger members of my class. His appearance was quite youthful, and yet he
was more than usually grave and mature for his years. He was rather below
than above the ordinary height, and his shoulders were broad, and, for a young
man, somewhat angular. His head was large; his forehead high; his features
regular; and his eye set back deep in his head, as if seeking retirement, and yet
expressive of more than ordinary depth of thought. His countenance, as a
whole, bore a tinge of the melancholy and plaintive; but the expression was the
very opposite of intellectual dulness or inactivity- He was social in his feelings,
though rather reserved in the expression of them. In his conversation he was
rather select than copious and indiscriminate, — always showing a well cultivated
and well directed mind. In scholarship his rank was not far below the highest;
and yet, had his college course been a year or two later, I have no doubt that he
would have developed a still higher degree of intellectual promise. His manners
were gentle and amiable, and every way fitted to win respect and confidence. I
think of him as he was in College with great pleasure; and T believe he passed
a number of years of high professional usefulness; but deep shadows after a
while gathered around him, and the liistory of his latter years we can only
resolve into the inscrutable sovereignty' of God.
Yours in the Gospel,
SAMUEL MERWIN.
DANIEL HASKELL. 529
FROM THE REY. JOHN HOUGn, D. D.
PROFESSOR IN MIDDLEBURY COLLEGE.
Fort Wayne, Indiana, June 18, 1856.
Reverend and dear Sir: My acquaintance with the Rev. Daniel Haskell dates
back to an early period of my life. We entered together upon studies prepara-
tory for College, and pursued a large proportion of them in connection with each
other. We were not only classmates at school, but classmates, and, during a
portion of our course, room-mates, in College also. After leaving College, we kept
up our intercourse, either in person or by correspondence, until the year 1810,
when he was established in the ministry in Burlington; and for three years sub-
sequent to that, our communications were still more frequent and familiar. You
will see from this statement what must have been my opportunities for forming
a judgment of his character.
I regard Mr. Haskell as having possessed a mind characterized by clear and
discriminating views, and uncommon depth of reflection and solidity of judg-
ment. He was distinguished also for an even, gentle, and amiable temper, and
was greatly beloved by his friends. He was, as I distinctly remember, one of
the earliest subjects of strong religious solicitude, in that great revival of religion
which prevailed in Yale College in the spring of 1802; and, after no long period,
avon^ed a hope of a permanent change of character. I know not that he ever
gave reason to any one to doubt the validity of his hope.
A considerable portion of his time, from his leaving College to his commencing
his professional career, was devoted to the business of instruction. In this he
met with distinguished success. As a preacher also, he took and maintained a
deservedly high rank. His sermons were marked by luminous views of Divine
truth, and were highly interesting and instructive; though, if they were wantmg
in any thing, it was perhaps in pungency of application. His success as Presi-
dent of the University was of a most gratifying character. The number of
students had greatly increased, and the prospects of the institution had become
more cheering than at any preceding period, when that sad eclipse occurred which
threw a shade over his whole future life. After a few years, his malady lost,
in some degree, its intensity, and he rendered some important services to the
cause of education and of literature; but I believe he never fully recovered from
it. It may not be easy to ascertain very distinctly the origin of this monomania;
though my impression has always been that it was the result of metaphysical
investigations, and particularly of an earnest attention to Berkeley's ideal theory.
It was certainly among the mysterious dispensations of Divine Providence that
a mind of such superior mould, as well as of such beneficent inpulses and devout
aspirations, should thus have been parah'zed and arrested in a career which
promised such high and enduring usefulness.
With sentiments of sincere regard,
Yery respectfully yours,
JOHN HOUGH.
FROM THE REY. SAMUEL H. COX, D. D.
Yesper Cliff, Oswego, N. Y., June 7, 185G.
Reverend and dear Sir: Conformably to your request, I write to give you my
general impressions and memories of the character of the late Rev. Daniel Haskell,
M. A., — once the distinguished President of the Universitj^ of Burlington, Vt.
He and his worthy family were connected with the First Presbyterian church
of Brooklyn, N. Y., for several years previous to my accession as their pastor,
in the spring of 1837. So they continued while I remained there ; except that I offi-
ciated at his funeral, as my pastoral diary aids me to remember, August 10, 1848.
Vol. II. 67
530 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Of his antecedents I had occasionally and frequently heard, and with ever
increasing interest. That he was a man of great strength and soundness of mind,
with a single exception, of which I shall speak presently; that his liberal attain-
ments in science, literature, general reading, and well digested thought, with cor-
rect and extensive theological erudition, were exemplary and distinguished; and
that he was a person of deep and genuine piety, consistent and practical, as well
as beneficent and useful, in the whole tenor of his life and actions; I may ration-
ally and sincerely affirm, as better witnesses in multitudes could, without me,
fully establish. He was a profound mathematician and astronomer; and occupied
much of his leisure time, in the almost twelve years that I was his pastor, as well
as before, in exploring the wonders of that magnificent science; in preparing and
manufacturing globes, planetariums, instruments,' and learned helps, for its pro-
secution; and in reading and studying history, chronology, antiquities, and other
learned matters: always engaged, and seeming to abhor idleness or a life inane
and useless. His manners ever seemed gentle and obliging. His words were few,
his conversation rather reserved. He seemed to court solitude rather than society;
though he came sometimes steadily to attend public worship, for months and years
together; yet now and then with intervals, professing indeed an attachment to
the person and the ministry of his pastor. In all this, his affectionate fiimily and
friends rejoiced, and did what they could to continue the practice. The reason
of his absence, sometimes for months, I am now to state.
lie was, like Cowper, whom in several respects I often thought he resembled,
a confirmed monomaniac, even to his death. How it seemed to be induced, 1
would not now inquire. I suppose its proximate cause was physical and cere-
bral derangement; and that its operation became religious, as in the case of Cow-
per, incidentally; though exasperated often by intense application to study,
profound and anxious thought, and perhaps some mistaken views of Christian
doctrine; at least in the way of making himself an exceptional monad, in no wise
related to the ordinary truths and promises of the Gospel. Perhaps some
metaphysical perversions of the Gospel, modifying his views insidiously, in some
degree, induced tlie malady.
The form of it, so far as I can now command it, was in effect this — He thought
he was dead, since some definite epoch gone by; that he was no longer a prisoner
of hope or a probationer for eternity; that it was in some other world, not this,
he formerly lived ; that he was there a rebel, selfish, disobedient, antagonistic to
his God; and that hence God had removed him into another state, where he was
then remaining, although it was a wonder and a mystery! Hence he would not
pray, no! never. It were wickedness and impiety for him to attempt it. This
was exactly like Cowper, — as old Mr. Bull, at Newport Pagnell, son to him who
was the friend of Cowper and Newton, at Olney, I recollect, graphically told me,
in September, 1846. He well remmbered Cowper.
Sometimes Mr. Haskell could be made to forget his mania, interested in an
object or topic of conversation. But — one reference to it, or recollection of it by
himself, supervened only to restore his melancholy consistency; as the solemn
contraction of his countenance always evinced. Once in conversation, it suddenly
thundered, after a very vivid flash of lightning; interrupting thecour.se of thought
and speech. As he was full of cheerful interchange of remark, and so abruptly
stopped in it, one of the company inquired of him — if that was not very much
like real thunder and lightning. The absurdity struck him, and produced an
involuntary smile, — saying, " It seems very like what I remember in that world
where I once was."
His mania was quite incurable. It was indeed the most perfect illustration of
monomania, or insanity on one point only, that I ever knew. On all other sub-
jects, especially when he forgot, he was sane, sensible, learned, instructive, and
engaging. He always treated me with the greatest respect and consistency, as
DANIEL HASKELL. 531
his pastor. He loved his friends, and seemed ever to have on his spirit a clear and
subduing sense of the ubiquity and supremacy of God. He never seemed to think
God wrong in any thing; and I never saw the least irreverence in his manners.
The veil opaque seemed to settle on him in the last stages of his disease; but
often the sun goes down in the storms of the ocean, onl}^ to rise without a cloud:
And tricks his beams and with new spangled ore
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky.
The ways of God are wonderful, but ordered in infinite wisdom. What reason
have we to thank him for the use of all our faculties!
I am, Reverend and dear Sir,
Fraternally, yours, in the Lord Jesus Christ.
SAMUEL H. COX
GORDON HALL.=^
1809—1826.
Gordon Hall was born in Tolland, Mass., April 8, 1784. His parents,
Nathan and Elizabeth Hall, were natives of Ellington, Conn., and were
sober, industrious, and moral people. The son was, in his earliest years,
distinguished for vivacity of spirits and versatility of mind ; and his inter-
vals of relaxation from labour on the farm were usually employed upon
various works that gave play to his mechanical ingenuity. He was also a
great lover of books ; and now and then made an effort at writing, in which,
sometimes, he indulged in keen sarcasm at the expense of some of his
neighbours. He had a great talent for satire, though it was ultimately kept
in check by the influence of religion.
He continued to labour on his father's farm till he was in his nineteenth
or twentieth year, availing himself, however, of all the means he could com-
mand for the improvement of his mind. At that time, encouraged by his
minister, the Rev. Roger Harrison,! he resolved on making an attempt to
acquire a collegiate education ; and his father yielded, though somewhat
reluctantly, to his wishes. Having prosecuted his preparatory studies under
the tuition of his pastor, he entered Williams College in February, 1805,
at the commencement of the second term in the collegiate year. When Pre-
sident Fitch, who had heard his examination, inquired of the Tutor of the
class which Hall proposed to join, whether they had proceeded farther than
he had, and was answered in the affirmative, — said the President, " I care
not for that : that young man has not studied the languages like a parrot,
but has got hold of their very radix. ^' He had a high reputation for
scholarship, during his whole college course, and graduated with the highest
honours of his class, in September, 1808.
* BardwelVs Memoir.
t Roger Harrison was a native of Branford, Conn. ; was graduated at Yale College in
1792; was ordained pastor of the church in Tolland, January 23, 1798; was dismissed Febru-
ary 18, ]S22; and died August 31, 1853, aged eighty-four. He was distinguished for his
powers of music. Dr. Cooley of Granville states that Jlr. H. once spent a night at his house,
and at family worship sung the Judgment Anthem with such thrilling eflect, that one of hij
Students sprung from his chair, rushed at the singer, and was entirely bewildered for severaj
hours.
532 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
It was during his second year in College that the subject of religion first
deeply and permanently impressed his mind ; though it was not till the
commencement of his third year that he was himself in any good degree
satisfied of the genuineness of his conversion. At this period, he formed
an intimate and enduring friendship with the lamented Samuel J. Mills, Jr.;
and it was to Hall and Richards that Mills first disclosed his incipient pur-
pose to devote himself to Christian missions.
Shortly after he graduated, he commenced the study of Theology under
the direction of the Rev. Dr. Porter of Washington, Conn., afterwards
Professor in the Theological Seminary at Andover. Having prosecuted his
studies about a year, he was licensed to preach ; and was invited, soon
after, to preach as a candidate in Woodbury, Conn. He consented to sup-
ply the vacant pulpit, but took care that his engagement should be such as
would leave him at full liberty to devote himself to the missionary work,
provided that, after due reflection, he should be satisfied that such was the
will of Providence respecting him. From the autumn of 1809 to June,
1810, he exercised his ministry most of the time at Woodbury, though,
during this period, he preached nearly two months at Pittsfield, Mass., and
occasionally also in other places. He seems, about this time, to have been
somewhat perplexed by the question whether the domestic or foreign mis-
sionary field had the strongest claims upon his attention ; and if he rather
inclined to the former, it was on the ground that there was no existing pro-
vision, and no immediate prospect of any, for sustaining a mission to
Heathen lands.
In the summer of 1810, Mr. Hall connected himself with the Theological
Seminary at Andover, where he enjoyed the society of several brethren of
kindred spirit, and formed the definite purpose which gave complexion to
his future life. This purpose was not only to give himself to a foreign
mission, but to select his field of labour from some part of India, as being
more open to the reception of missionaries, and promising better results,
than any other part of the Pagan world.
An application was now made by Mr. Hall and two or three of his breth-
ren to the General Association of Massachusetts, which resulted in the for-
mation of the American Board of Commissionei's for Foreign Missions.
But as the Board, then in its infancy, was without funds, Mr. Hall and
some of his brethren proposed to ofi"er themselves as missionaries to India,
under the direction of the London Missionary Society, provided they could
not be sustained by the charities of the American Church. Under these
circumstances, it was deemed expedient by the American Board to send
Mr. Judson, one of the missionary candidates, to England, to ascertain
from the Directors of the London Society, whether the measure proposed
would be practicable. Mr. Judson was received with great kindness, and
his conditional proposal was acceded to by the Directors without hesitation.
It was ascertained, however, by the American Board, that there existed
some unforeseen difficulties in the way of the proposed co-operation, and
the result was that they determined to retain the young men under their
own care, intending to be responsible for their support.
In the autumn of 1811, Mr. Hall, in company with Mr. Newell, who was
destined to be his colleague in the mission, repaired to Philadelphia, with a
view to avail themselves of the advantages there afforded for the study of
medicine, in the hope of thereby promoting their usefulness among the
GORDOX HALL. 533
Heathen. It was expected, at that time, on account of commercial embar-
rassments, that no opportunity of a passage to India woukl soon occur; but,
in the Latter part of January, 1812, an opportunity for going to Calcutta pre-
sented itself at Philadelphia, and another at Salem, Mass. ; and the Board
determined to avail themselves of these opportunities for sending out their
missionaries.
Mr. Hall was ordained at Salem on the 6th of February, with his breth-
ren and colleagues, Messrs. Nott, Rice, Judson and Newell. The two lat-
ter of these embarked at Salem on the 9th of February, and the three
former at Philadelphia, on the 18th of the same month. The Prudential
Committee, in their instructions, express a wish that they should plant
themselves in some part of the Burman empire, while they leave it to them
to select their particular field.
Mr. Hall i-eached Calcutta on the 8th of August, 1812 ; and though he
and his associates were met by Christian people of different denominations,
with every expression of good-will, yet, in consecjuence of the unreason-
able and unchristian policy of the East India company, they were subjected
to the greatest embarrassment. The history of Mr. Hall from this period
is so identified with the history of the mission, that it would be impossible
to do justice to the former, but in connection with the latter. Suffice it to
say that, in all the straits to which he was driven by the arbitrary measures
of the government, he never lost his self-possession and dignity, never
quailed for a moment beneath the arm of tyranny, nor felt his confidence in
the Divine protection even to falter. The result was, that after a pro-
tracted season of trial, in which there seemed to be an assemblage of cir-
cumstances most disastrous to the establishment of the mission, they were
privileged, at last, sometime in 1815. to witness the realization of their
fondest hopes in a formal permission given them by the Governor General
of Bombay to remain in the country, and pursue unmolested their benevo-
lent labours. The letters which Mr. Hall addressed to his friends in the
United States during this period of extreme embarrassment and doubtful
success, are characterized by a strength of Christian principle, and a depth,
of Christian feeling, which remind one of the heroic spirit of the great
Apostle, when he was placed in somewhat similar circumstances.
On the 19th of December, 1816, Mr. Hall was married to Margaret
Lewis, an English lady, who had been, for some time, a resident of Bom-
bay, and had become well acquainted with the habits and character of the
natives, and with the Hindostanee, one of the most popular languages of
the country.
In 1821, Mr. Hall experienced a severe afiliction in the death of the Rev.
Mr. Newell, who was suddenly struck down by spasmodic cholera. The
letter in which he communicated the intelligence to the Secretary of the
American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, describes most
affectingly the scene of Mr. Newell's departure, as well as the greatness of
Mr. Hall's loss.
In 1824, Mr. Hall made a fatiguing tour to the high lands East of Bom-
bay, on th'i Continent, partly for the purpose of preaching the Gospel as he
might have opportunity, and partly to find some healthy location to which
disabled missionaries might repair for the recovery of their health. He
selected a place distant, about a hundred and forty miles from Bombay,
which he supposed might very well answer the purpose. His recorded obser-
534 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
vations upon this tour are interesting alike for the information which they
comniunicatc and the spirit which they breathe.
In July, 1825, Mr. and Mrs. Hall were called to the trial of a separa-
tion, which, so far as this world is concerned, proved to be final. Their
two children, one of four years, and the other of two, were extremely delicate,
and the most skilful physicians had exprerssed the opinion that their removal
to another climate was absolutely essential to the preservation of their lives.
After due deliberation, it was cuncludcd by the fond parents tliat the
mother should come with the children to the United States, and after
remaining long enough to make the requisite provision for their education,
should leave them and return to her husband. The separation was a sore
trial ; but it was endured, on both sides, in the exercise of a sustaining con-
fidence in God. Mrs. Hall embarked with her two boys on the 31st of
July, and arrived at Salem, — alas ! with only the younger, on the 18th of
November. The elder, though his health had seemed to improve during
the early part of the voyage, was afterwards taken suddenly ill, and died
about three weeks before the vessel reached her port. It was determined,
however, in the councils of Heaven, that the father should never in this
world know that he was bereaved.
Mr. Hall was much in the habit of itinerating on the adjoining Continent,
with a view to preach the Gospel, and distribute books and tracts as he
passed through the counti'y. His last tour was commenced on the 2d of
March, 182G; and his special object was to visit Freembukeshwur and
Nasseek, two considerable places on the continent, about a hundred miles
from Bombay. He was attended by two Christian lads, who had been, for
some time, in the families of the mission. He reached Freembukeshwur on
the 11th of March, where he found the people in the utmost consternation,
in consequence of the recent appearance of the cholera ; but he spent three
or four days there in the prosecution of his benevolent mission, and espe-
cially in administering to the wants of the sick. He arrived at Nasseek on
the evening of the 15th ; and here also he found the same terrible disease
raging with extreme violence. But nothing daunted by the most threaten-
ing danger, he set himself at once to administering to both the souls and
bodies of those around him. He continued his labours till he had nearly
exhausted his supply of books and medicine. At ten o'clock P. M., on the
19th, he reached a place called Doorlee-D'hapoor, about thirty miles on his
way homeward, and stopped at a heathen temple to pass the night. About
four o'clock in the morning, he called up the lads who attended him, and
while he was getting ready to proceed on his journey, was suddenly smitten
with cholera in its most appalling form. He was satisfied at once that the
attack would prove fatal, and immediately gave directions in respect to the
disposal of his clothes, his watch, and finally of his body, offered fervent pray-
ers for his dear wife, and children, and missionary brethren, and earnestly
exhorted the natives who stood around him to forsake their idols and repent
of their sins. In the exercise of a triumphant faith, he thrice repeated,
" Glory to thee 0 God," and then sweetly fell asleep. The lads immedi-
ately, though not without some difficulty, procured a grave, and having
shrouded him in his blanket, laid him in it, without a coffin, to take his
final slumber. His illness lasted but eight hours, and he died in his
forty-second year. A stone monument, erected by the mission, marks his
humble resting place.
GORDON HALL. 535
Mr, Hall's widow has remained ia the United States since his death, and
his only son, bearing his father's name, was graduated at Tale College in
1843, with great reputation, and is now a highly respectable minister of the
Gospel at Northampton, Mass.
Mr. Hall's publications, which were few, were, it is believed, all immedi-
ately connected with the subject of missions. He published a Sermon which
he preached at Philadelphia a day or two previous to his sailing for Cal-
cutta, on "the duty of American Christians in relation to the cause of
missions;" and another in 1825, on occasion of the formation of the Bom-
bay Missionary Union. His "Appeal to American Christians in behalf of
the twelve millions speaking the Mahratta language" was published in the
Missionary Herald, Oc!»jber, 1826. The well known Tract, entitled "The
conversion of the world, or the claims of six hundred millions," &c., the
second edition of which appeared in 1818, was the joint production of Hall
and Newell. Mr. Hall's style is characterized by great perspicuity, direct-
ness, and force; and his thoughts, full of life and power, betray the work-
ings of his ruling passion for the salvation of the world.
FROM THE REV. HORATIO BARDWELL.
Oxford, Mass., November 8, 1849.
My dear Sir : In reply to your request that I would furnish something for
your proposed work, in commemoration of the Rev. Gordon Hall, permit me to
say that I feel myself honoured in having the privilege of bearing my feeble tes-
timony to the excellence of one so dearly beloved, and with whom I laboured in
the foreign missionary field for nearly six years. You will pardon me, however,
if in complying with your wishes I avail myself of what seems to me a remarka-
bly faithful and graphic description of Mr. Hall's character from the pen of the
late Dr. Porter, Professor in the Andover Theological Scminarj'. The Doctor
writes concerning him as follows : —
"As my acquaintance with this devoted servant of Christ was short, being
chiefly limited to one year, which he spent in my family as a theological student,
I shall attempt only to give jou a very brief statement of facts which exhibited
the principles that contributed to the formation of his character as a man and a
Christian.
"The development of his powers during his theological investigation satisfied
me that, in intellectual strength and discrimination, he was more than a com-
mon man. Of this, however, he was apparently unconscious, being simple and
unpretending in his manners, and altogether remote from the sanguine, self-com-
placent temper, often manifested by young men who are greatly his inferiors.
But it was not so much anj' one distinguished characteristic, such as we some-
times see in eccentric men, with great excellencies, counteracted bj^ great defects,
as it was a combination of good qualities, that made Mr. Hall what he fuUy
proved himself to be in his subsequent course, — a superior man.
"Among this combination of qualities is to be reckoned bis piety; which was
not a hectic flush of emotion, rising and subsiding occasionally or periodically;
but a stead}' glow of feeling, arising from a heart warm with the vitality of holi-
ness and spiritual health; his persevering industry, Avhich enabled him to mas-
ter diflHcidties insurmountable to the vacillating and irresolute; — his sobriety of
judgment, which enabled him to weigh consequences, to adapt means to ends,
and which secured him against rash resolves, and inappropriate expedients for
their accomplishment; and finally, his inflexible decision in purpose and execu-
tion. By this latter trait in him I do not mean obstinacy, that acts because it
will, without reason perhaps, or against reason; but an intelligent fixedness of
536 TRINITARIAJf CONGREGATIONAL. I
purpose, that will not abandon a proper object, on account of trifling obstacles
to its attainment.
* ** ## ##**
" While he was in my family, several incidents occurred, which I will mention,
though of no account in themselves, except as indicative of character.
"At the season of hay -making, he came to me one day with a request that I
would procure him a scythe, and allow him to go into the field with my labour-
ers. As he had for some time been withdrawn from agricultural pursuits, I
feared the consequences, but assented to the proposal, admonishing him to begin
moderately. From respect to my wishes, though he had no apprehension, he
laboured but a few hours the first day. For the rest of a fortnight, he was in
the field early and late, mowing, raking, or pitching hay, with as much skill,
and as little fatigue, as any one of his fellow labourers. This was as much a
matter of surprise to them as it was to me; and denoted a firmness of constitu-
tion,— (the result, probablj^ in a great measure, of early training,) which pre-
pared him for the hardships he was to encounter as a missionary.
"During the same 3'ear, he was appointed a Tutor at Williams College; and
the President's letter, informing him of that appointment, S2wead before him very
urgent motives to accept it. Having read the letter, and pondered a short time
on it, he came to me for advice; and having heard what I would say on the sub-
ject, he made his decision in the negative that evening, — and there the thing-
ended; it was dismissed from his thoughts and never again adverted to by him
in conversation. This incident, trifling as it may seem, made a strong impression
on me at the time, as indicating the promising structure of his mind. I had
then seen, as I have often seen since, young men who would make of such a ques
tion a " mighty concern," not to be decided without many and long consulta-
tions, and who could not ' in fixing, fix ' their decisions, so but that they were
perplexed with frequent revision, if not reversal, of their own half-formed
resolves.
"'In the autumn of 1809, if I do not mistake in dates. Judge S , of W ,
Conn., came to my house to inquire for a candidate. Of the three or four resi-
dents in my family, who had been licensed that week, I thought Mr. Hall the
fittest man for the place, on account of some local peculiarities there, and accord-
ingly introduced him to Judge S . The conversation that ensued between
them was in my presence. ]Mr. Hall was very explicit in settling one point, —
namely, that if the people of the place could be ever so united, and earnestly
desirous of his stay, his j^reaching to them should not be considered as implying
any obligation on him to remain there. The Judge wished him to go on his own
terms, saying, ' If you can unite a people, now much divided, you will do us an
unspeaka1)le service, even though you afterward leave us.' He went. On the
third Sabbath, his morning sermon contained some pointed reprehensions of
what he thought amiss in the morals of some in the congregation; and his after-
noon sermon was on the doctrine of ' Divine decrees.' The following week,
there was much complaining by some of the people of Mr. Hall's ' hard sayings.'
On the fourth and last Sabbath of his engagement, his subject was chosen with
this state of things in his eye. Expecting never to see this assembly again, he
expressed his regret that so many should have been dissatisfied with his minis-
trations. He assured them that, to have given them offence, was a source of
severe trial to his own heart; but, as an ambassador of Christ, he must act from
higher motives than a regard to their approbation. With deep solemnity and
pathos he carried them onward to the judgment, where he must meet them
again, and where all the motives of his heart and theirs must undergo the scru-
tiny of the Omniscient eye. The appeal was irresistible. The assembly were
melted down with strong emotion, and, immediately after his departure, des-
patched a messenger to insist that Mr. Hall who had gone to Massachusetts,
t
GORDOJf HALL. 537
should return. He did return; and in spite of his remonstrances, thoy gave
him an urgent call to become their pastor. Then the heart of the missionary
came out. Then was revealed the secret so long cherished between himself
and his beloved brother, Samuel J. Mills, Jr. These kindred spirits, associ-
ates in College, often interchanged visits afterwards, mutually enkindling that
holy flame, which nothing but the hand of death could extinguish, in their own
bosoms ; and which has since extended its sacred influences to so many thou-
sands of other hearts. The general purpose of these devoted young men was
fixed. Sometimes they had talked of 'cutting a path through the moral wilder-
ness of the West to the Pacific' Sometimes they thought of South America, —
then of Africa. Their object was the salvation of the Heathen; but no specific
shape was given to their plan, till the formation of. the American Board of
Foreign Missions. To many it seemed a visionary thing in Mr. Hall, that he
should decline an invitation to settle, attended with so many attractive circum-
stances and so much prospect of usefulness. But I can never forget with what
a glistening eye and firm accent, this youthful pioneer of foreign missions, full
of faith and the Holy Ghost, said, — " No, I must not settle in any parish in
Christendom. Others will be left, whose health or pre-engagements require them
to stay at home; but I can sleep on the ground, can endure hunger and hard-
ship;— God calls me to the Heathen; wo to me if I preach not the Gospel to the
Heathen." He went; and the day of judgment, while it tells the results of his
labours, will rebuke the apathy with which others have slumbered over the mise-
ries of dying Pagans."
No one quality in the character of Mr. Hall was more conspicuous than decis-
ion. This may have been somewhat constitutional; but its chief strength lay in
the tone of his piety. He feared God, — he loved and honoured his Saviour, — he
sought to do as well as know his will.
Nearly allied to this decision of character was his unbending and untiring
adherence to the principle of Christia,n duty. The range of this principle in his
breast was not modified or bounded by the views and example of his fellow Chris-
tians, but by the instructions of God's word.
Very soon after his conversion he seems to have had a strong impression that
it might be his duty to preach the Gospel to the Heathen ; and in this his mind
finally became settled. He was no more to be shaken in this purpose than in his
belief and trust in Christ. Hence he made every thing subservient to the accom-
plishment of this object.
The embarrassments he experienced from the governments of Calcutta and
Bombay, did not in the least shake his confidence or lead him to doubt his being
in the path of duty. During the greatest pressure of difficulties, when every ray
of light was shut out from his path, he was never disheartened; he never, for a
moment, relinquished his purpose of labouring for the conversion of the Pagan
world. " Duties are ours; consequences are God's," was his motto.
Mr. Hall was eminently a man of prayer. During his correspondence with
the government, and the various measures that were attempted to establish a
mission in the country, much time was spent in fasting and prayer. " So for as
Mr. Hall was concerned," says his colleague, at that interesting crisis, "the
mission Avas carried through by prayer; which is the only just explanation of
the skill and success which were given to inexperience and weakness." It is
remarkable that, in their most difficult circumstances, he never seemed to doubt
his own final decisions, but was enabled to go forward as firmly as if he were
proceeding in the best marked path, and with the approbation of all his advisers.
He pursued this course under the distinct conviction of his understanding that
success was improbable. And not only so, but that this anticipated failure
would cost him, at least for a time, the confidence and approbation of his friends
at home. Truly it may be said that the foundation of the Bombay mission was
Vol. IL 68
538 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
laid in the expectation of defeat and dishonour. How worthy of adniiration and
praise are the wisdom and goodness of Divine Providence in raising uj) such men
as Gordon Hall and his colleague, and placing them at tlic post of difficult}',
where, if they had failed, it is impossible to say what a disastrous influence it
might have shed over the infant spirit of foreign missions, which was then begin-
ning to glow in the American Cliurches.
In person, i\Ir. Hall was of about the ordinary height; — rather slender, and of
a sallow complexion. He stooped slightly as he walked, and seemed meditative,
though his movements were easy and rapid. Ilis most noticeable feature was
his dark, intelligent, and penetrating eye, — a truthful index of his vigorous and
determined mind.
His manner of preaching in English was calm, deliberate, convincing, and
highly devotional. In the Mahratta language, he was truly eloquent. His
thorough knowledge of the Hindoo character and literature enabled him to illus-
trate and enforce the truth b}^ all that variety of metaphor and parable, so com-
mon to the Oriental mind. No missionary in Western India Mas so celebrated
among the Brahmins in discussion and in the pulpit as Mr. Hall.
Yours with high regard,
H. BARDWELL.
SAMUEL NEWELL *
1810—1821.
Samuel Newell, the son of Ebenezer and Catharine Newell, was boriL
at Durham, Me,, on the 24th of July, 1784, being the youngest of nine
children. His father was a farmer, and held various offices in the town, both
civil and military. His mother died before he was three years old, and his
father, when he was ten. At the age of fourteen, he went, with the consent
of his friends, to Portland, twenty-six miles distant, on a tour of sight-
seeing ; and, while there, accepted an offer from a captain of a vessel that
lay in the harbour, to accompany him to Boston. On his arrival at Boston,
through the consideration of the captain, who had become not a little inte-
rested in him, he found a place in the family of the late Judge Lowell, who
treated him with great kindness till his death, in 1802.
In 1800, he went into the service of a Mr. Ralph Smith of Roxbury,
with the usual proviso that he should attend school three months in
the year. He, however, very soon showed a fondness for books, and a
corresponding disrelish for manual labour, that suggested to his employer the
query whether it was not better that he should devote himself to study
altogether. As the result of a conference between Mr. Smith and Dr.
Prentiss the Master of the lloxbury Grammar School, it was determined
that young Newell should be received at that school as a pupil. Very soon
after he eutei'cd it, he ventured to express to Dr. Prentiss an earnest desire
for a collegiate education ; and his teacher encouraged him to believe that
even this was practicable, provided he would engage in it with suitable
resolution and perseverance. Through the joint influence of Mr. Smith
and Dr. Prentiss, several gentlemen were induced to contribute about four
• Missionary Heroes and Martyrs.
SAMUEL NEWELL. 539
hundred dollars, to assist in the accomplishment of his object. Even at
this early period, he began to develop strong tendencies towards the study
of Theology ; and as he occasionally listened to John Murray, the Uni-
versalist preacher, while he was studying the Greek Testament, he would
sometimes ask his teacher questions about the meaning of the text, that
showed that he was thinking of something beyond the mere idiomatic con-
struction of the language.
After studying about two years, he was well prepared for College.
Accordingly, he entered at Cambridge in the autumn of 1803, as Regent's
or Butler's freshman ; and, in this capacity, he performed various services,
by means of which most of his college expenses were defrayed. He sus-
tained a good reputation as a scholar, during his whole course, and graduated
honourably in 1807.
Soon after entering College, his mind became much exercised on religious
subjects, and he availed himself of frequent opportunities of listening to
the preaching of the great and good Dr. Stillman of Boston. In October,
1804, he became a member of the First Congregational church in Roxbury,
then under the care of the Bev. Dr. Porter. He was led, however, subse-
quently, to question the propriety of the step he had taken, partly from the
fact that his theological views were yet in an unsettled state, and partly from
t)ie doubt he entertained in regard to some of the opinions and teachings
of his minister. In consequence of the perplexity into which he was thus
thrown, ho even, for some time, absented himself from the communion of
the church.
Shortly after his graduation, he engaged as assistant teacher of the
Grammar School in Boxbury ; but, after a few months, took charge of the
Academy at Lynn. Here he formed the purpose of devoting himself to the
ministry, and in 1809 became a member of the Theological Seminary at
Andover, and transferred his church-membership thither about the same
time. Here he became intimate with Judson and Nott, and entered fully
into their views in respect to preaching the Gospel to the Heathen. He was
one of the signers of the paper which led to the formation of the American
Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, and was one of the first to
engage personally in that sacred work.
Mr. Newell left the Seminary in 1810, and preached for a while at
Rowley, near Newburyport. The next summer he proceeded to Philadel-
phia, in company with Gordon Hall, to devote some time to the study of
medicine.
In February, 1812, he was married to Harriet Atwood of Haverhill,
Mass., a young lady of cultivated mind and devoted piety, to whom he had
become engaged in the autumn of 1810. On the 6th of the same month,
he was ordained as a missionary at Salem, with Judson, Nott, Rice, and
Hall. On the 19th, Messrs. Newell and Judson, with their wives, embarked
at Salem in the Ship Caravan, for Calcutta; while the rest of the company
sailed, on the 18th, from Philadelphia, for the same destination.
The Caravan arrived at Calcutta on the 18th of June. The missionaries
were received with great kindness by Dr. Carey and his associates, and were
invited to await at Seranipore the arrival of the other members of the mission.
This invitation they accepted ; but, after about ten days, they received a
summons to Calcutta, where an order was served upon them to leave the
country without delay. Wishing, if possible, to avoid the necessity of
540 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
returning to America, they asked and obtained leave to sail for the Isle of
Franco ; and as there was a vessel about to sail, which offered accommoda-
tions for two persons, Mr. and Mrs. Newell went on board on the 4th of
August, with the expectation that they would be soon followed by Mr. and
Mr.s. Judson. They had a protracted and perilous voyage ; were tossed
about nearly a mouth in the Bay of Bengal ; and, in consequence of the
vessel springing aleak, they were obliged to put into Coringa, a small port
on tho Coromandel coast, where they were detained a fortnight. After they
had re-embarked, they were called to commit to the deep the body of an
infant daughter, born while they were making the passage. They arrived
safely at Port Louis, the capital of the Isle of France, on the 31st of
October.
But other and yet more bitter ingredients were to be added to Mr. Newell's
cup of sorrow. Mrs. Newell, who had, for some time, had pulmonary
symptoms, now became seriously ill, and it was manifest that her disease
was tending rapidly to a fatal issue. It resisted all medical skill, and on
the 30th of November, at the early age of nineteen, her purposes of mi.^-
sionary usefulness were broken off, by her being called from earth to Heaven.
Her death was regarded, at the time, as having a most unpropitious bearing
on the enterprise to which she had devoted herself ; though there is little
doubt now that she accomplished more for the cause by her early death,
than she could have done by a protracted life.
Mr. Newell, having remained at the Isle of France about three months
after the death of his wife, embarked on the 24:th of February for Bombay,
intending to touch at Ceylon. On arriving at Point de Galle, he lea,i'ned
that Messrs. Hall and Nott, whom he had expected to meet at that place,
were already at Bombay. Being fully persuaded that he should not be
permitted to remain on the Continent, and regarding the prospects of Ceylon,
as a missionary field, somewhat encouraging, he determined to remain there,
at least for a season, and wrote to his brethren at Bombay, requesting them
to join him. They made an attempt to comply with his request ; but were
providentially driven back to Bombay. They informed him that they had
some hopes of being permitted to remain there, and advised him to study
with a view to coming thither also. Here ho remained about a year, zeal-
ously prosecuting his studies, and preaching two or three times a week to
the English and half-caste people, Avhom he represented as needing instruc-
tion as much as the Heathen. Meanwhile he heard nothing from his missionary
brethren ; which led him to apprehend that they were on their way to
England, while it left him in utter uncertainty in respect to his own
prospects.
In January, 1814, he received intelligence from Bombay that justified
him in joining his brethren there. The Governor (Brownrigg) cheerfully
complied with his request for permission to depart, and furnished him the
requisite testimonials to the Governor of Bombay. Accordingly, on the
7th of March, he had the happiness of meeting his associates whom he had
not seen since he parted with them on American ground.
From this time, he became identified with the Bombay mission, and its
history includes the history of his remaining days. In the most intimate
and fraternal connection with Mr. Hall, he engaged in preaching, translating,
teaching, and whatever else seemed likely to help forward the great cause to
which they were devoted.
SAMUEL KEWELL.
541
In 1818, Mr. Newell was married to Philomela Thurston, a lady who had
the preceding year gone out to Bombay, with two new missionaries appointed
to that station. But even when he formed this tender relation, the close of
his earthly labours was drawing nigh. He continued, however, to labour
with unremitting assiduity, almost to the very hour of his departure. He
had, for some time, had a presentiment of approaching death, even while he
was yet in his accustomed health. On the evening of the :28th of March,
1821, he felt somewhat indisposed, and after a restless night, found himself
still worse the next morning. About ten o'clock his disease developed itself
as cholera, which was then epidemic in that region. All medical aid proved
unavailing, and at one o'clock on the following morning, he calmly breathed
out his spirit. His remains were deposited in the English burying ground.
Mr. Newell, in conjunction with Mr. Hall, wrote a pamphlet entitled
"The Conversion of the World ; or the claims of sis hundred millions." It
was published at Andover in 1818, and attracted great attention.
FROM THE REV. SAMUEL NOTT.
Wareham, Mass., August 15, 1854.
Dear Sir: At your request, I will state such remembrances of the Rev. Samuel
Newell, my associate in the mission of Bombay, as occur to me after the lapse
of so many years. He is worthy of a place in j^our list of eminent ministers.
I became acquainted with Mr. Xewell in the autumn of 1809, on my joining
the Theological Seminai'yat Andover, and more intimately in the spring of 1810,
in connection with our missionary enterprise. In June of that year, we were
united in the communication to the General Association of Massachusetts, which
issued in the appointment of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign
Missions; and in all our intercourse with that Board previous to our ordination
in February, 1812. In all these preliminary arrangements, he showed himself
the conscientious and decided Christian, minister, and missionarj^, as he did ever
afterwards, — his conscientiousness and decision being somewhat more marlced,
on account of their connection with a nervous and even morbid temperament.
No member of our compan^y was more constant on the whole than he, amidst his
earlier and later trials, and I may add, none rendered more important service.
It was owing to tlie united promptness of himself and Gordon Hall, while
pursuing the study of medicine together at Philadelphia, preparatory to the mis-
sionary work, that the movement was made which brought the missionaries
together, and engaged the Board in measures which issued in their ordination on
the sixteenth day from their first decided information of the opportunity hy the
Harmony, and issuing their summons to their missionar}^ brethren.
Mr. Newell sailed finally in the brig Caravan. Brother Hall and myself parted
with him and Brother Judson, the evening after our ordination, to meet no more
until, after many trials to us all, we met in the spring of 1814, at Bomba_y. Our
first communication from him was from Ceylon, in September, 1813. There he
was very successful in gaining the fxvour of the Governor, and other officers of
the Crown, and was authorized to invite Brother Hall and myself to join him in
a mission at Ceylon; and his preliminary measures and representations to the
Board were no doubt the leading cause of the mission to Ceylon, undertaken
directly in 1815, which has had such great and growing success. Indirectly also,
he bore an important part in fixing the mission at Bombay; for it was owing to
his representations that myself and Brother Hall escaped from Bombay and
started for Ceylon, and thereby avoided being sent to England in the fall of 1813;
and it was this attempt which was at length overruled for the establishment of
the mission at Bombay. Brother Newell himself arrived in the spring of 1814,
542 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
and tlic mission received the sanction of the Gnvcrnnicnt, on the decision of tho
Court of Directors, in the summer of 1815, shortly before my own departure.
Certainly no one rendered more important service in the establishment of the
first two American missions to the East.
I liave referred to his peculiarly nervous and even morbid temperament, as
rendering somewhat more marked the conscientiousness and decision, which yet
were marred thereby, of which the following is a striking specimen. Mr. Newell
was a Freemason, but had become deeply impressed M'ith the evil tendencies of
Freemasonry, and especially to young men — to the point of indecisive and har-
a.ssing questionings whether he ought not to make a public disclosure of its
secrets and his own views, until he became so nearly beside himself, and so likely
to reveal what he 3'et was not decided to reveal, that I was compelled to check
and arrest him with the charge not to burden his conscience by any inconsiderate
and hasty revelation; to hold fast his promised reserve, unless he should become
absolutely and finall}' decided on the duty of full disclosure. This morbid tem-
perament, urging him sometimes to other extremes, was consistent with great
kindness and simplicity: — especiall}'- he took delight in my child, — the namesake
of his deceased wife; and not only indulged in childish sport with her, but took
pains to procure a copy of " Mrs. Barbauld's Hymns for children," to be tran-
scribed as a present for her.
Mr. Newell was slender, rather above the middle height, perhaps with nothing
very striking in his talents, while yet his letters winch I have before me, are
marked with great good taste and felicity of expression, as certainly are all his
other writings: especially his letter to his mother-in-law on the death of his
wife seems to me unsurpassed in deep pathos, and must have been an important
means of the great popularity of the " Memoirs of Harriet Newell."
Yours very truly,
SAMUEL NOTT.
ASAHEL NETTLETON, D. D.*
1811—1844.
A.s.\nEL Nettleton was a native of North Killingworth, Conn., and was
born, April 21, 1783. He was the eldest son, and the second child, in a
family of six children. His father was a farmer in rather moderate circum-
stances, and the earlier years of the son were spent in the same occupation.
His advantages for the culture of his mind in his early youth were such only
as were furnished by a common district school. His parents, though mem-
bers of the church only on the principle of the Ilalf-way Covenant, were by
no means neglectful of liis religious education, and they had the pleasure to
see him growing up free from vicious liabits, and with an irreproachable
moral character. They required liim particular!}- to commit to memory the
Assembly's Catechism, which he has been heard to say proved of great use
to him in after life, when his mind was awakened to the subject of religion
as a practical reality.
He was not without occasional religious impressions during his childhood
and early youth ; but it was not till he had reached the age of about seven-
• Memoir by Dr. Tyler.
ASAHEL NETTLETON. 543
teen that ho became deeply and eiFectually engaged for his soul's salvation.
On the night of the annual Thanksgiving in the autumn of 1800, he attended
a ball, and had his full share in the hilarity of tlie occasion. The next
morning, however, as he was reviewing the joyous scene in which he had
mingled, he was suddenly overwhelmed with an awful sense of death and
the judgment. Without any very distinct views of the nature of God's law,
or of the evil of sin, he felt an indefinite conviction that every thing in
respect to himself was wrong, and that unless he were the subject of a
mighty change, his prospect for the next world was absolutely hopeless.
From this time he separated himself from the scenes of gaiety to which he
had been accustomed to resort, and though he kept his feelings, for the
most part, to himself, all who saw him, observed in his countenance and
general deportment evidence of an unwonted sadness. For a long period, .
he was engaged in a course of ineflfectual striving to render himself better,
putting forth earnest efforts in the spirit of the law rather than the Gospel ;
now quarrelling with one part of God's revelation and now with another,
and sometimes even endeavouring to persuade himself that the whole was
a base imposture, and that the very existence of God fairly admitted of
question. After a series of the most violent inward conflicts, continued
without much intermission for ten months, he was at length brought to
realize his entire dependance on the grace of God in Christ ; and the views
which he took of this glorious truth, seemed at once to subdue and soothe
his spirit. It was not till some time after he had found the joy and peace
in believing, that it even occurred to him that he had been the subject of
a spiritual renovation. And neither then, nor at any future time, did he
ever express any very strong confidence in the genuineness of his own reli-
gious exercises. So deep was his sense of the deceitfulness of the heart,
that he always looked with painful apprehension upon very high professions,
especially in those who were at best young in the Christian life ; and the
utmost that he was willing to say concerning himself was, that he thought
it possible he might get to Heaven.
After this great change in liis religious views and feelings, he felt an
irrepressible desire to preach the Gospel. Having read in the Connecticut
Evangelical Magazine an account of the doings of some of the great benevo-
lent Societies abroad, particularly of the London Missionary Society, and
having, about the same time, fallen in with Home's Letters on Missions,
he began to aspire to the ofiice not only of a Christian minister, but of a
Christian missionary ; and actually formed the purpose, if God should
open the way, to spend his life among the Heathen.
His father having died in 1801, it devolved upon him to manage the
farm ; and it seems to have been while he was pursuing in solitude his agricul-
tural occupations, that the plan was originated and matured for acquiring a
collegiate education, with ultimate reference to the ministry. As he had
not the reqilisite pecuniary means, and as the charity of the church had not
then brought into existence those instrumentalities which are designed to
aid the eiForts of indigent young men, his powers were necessarilj' tasked to
the utmost for the accomplishment of his object. For two or three years,
he devoted wliatevcr leisure he could find, amidst his engagements upon the
farm and elsewhere, to the studies preparatory to entering College ; and in
the autumn of 1805, he had made such progress that he was admitted at
Yale as a member of the Freshman class.
544 TRINITAKIA>' CONGREGATIONAL.
Ilia collegiate course was in no respect strongly marked, except for an
earnest and active piety. He had no great relish either for the physical
sciences, or for elegant literature; and his attainments in these departments
were barely respectable ; but in intellectual and moral philosophy he greatly
delighted ; and ' je proficiency which he made in these branches no doubt
had an important bearing upon his subsequent usefulness as a minister of the
Gospel. It was by this means particularly that he acquired that uncom-
mbn quickness of perception and accurr^y of discrimination, that enabled
him, in after life, to deal so skilfully \''ith various forms of error and delu-
sion. In connection with his college .course, he carried on also a system of
theological reading ; and before he was graduated, had possessed himself
thoroughly of the works of Edwards, and Bellamy, and some others of the
same school. Indeed it has been said that he left College better read in
Divinity, than were many at that period who had gone through a regular
course preparatory to preaching the Gospel. But that which seems more
than any thing else to have occupied his regards, was the cultivation of
personal religion and the salvation of those around him. In a revival that
occurred in College in 1807-8, he laboured most earnestly ; and in the
remarkable zeal and wisdom which he evinced during this period, he gave
promise of those high spiritual qualities, and that signal success, by which
his subsequent career was marked.
Sometime in his Junior year in College, he formed an acquaintance with
the lamented Samuel J. Mills, Jr., between whose history and his own
there were some remarkable points of coincidence. They were born on the
same day ; they were hopefully born again about the same time ; they
formed the purpose of devoting themselves to the missionary work under
similar circr.mstances ; and they were both finally prevented from carrying
their purpose into effect. 31ills having heard of Nettleton, through one of
N.'s classmates, wenc to New Haven for the express purpose of conferring
with him in regard to missionary life ; and they were gratified to find that
their views and feelings on the subject were in perfect harmony. The next
year. Mills, having graduated at Williams College, went to New Haven as
a student of Theology, though a principal motive seems to have been to
confer frequently and freely with Nettleton on the subject of missions, and,
if possible, mature some plan for their future operations. Here they had
much delightful communion with each other, and they agreed to meet the
next year at Andover, in the hope of being able to make some more
definite arrangement with reference to their favourite project. Mr. Nettle-
ton, however, found it impossible to fulfil his purpose, in consequence of a
debt which he had contracted in the course of his education, and which he
felt himself called upon to cancel as early as possible. Instead of going to
Andover, as he wished, he accepted, by the earnest solicitation of Dr.
Dvvight, the office of Butler in College, in which office he continued nearly
a year, devoting what leisure he could command, to the study of Theology.
From New Haven Mr. Nettleton went to Milford, and continued his
studies for some time under the llev. Bezaleel Piimeo. He received license
to preach from the West Association of New Haven county, at the house
of the Kev. Dr. Trumbull, in North Haven, May 28, 1811.
From the commencement of his course as a preacher, he evinced a remark-
able power over the conscience, and it was quickly apparent that his minis-
trations were destined to produce no ordinary effect upon the public mind.
ASAHEL NETTLETON. 545
The world did not indeed crowd after him as an eloquent man ; but multi-
tudes went to hear him, because they could not stay away. There was in
all that he said a directness and pungency, which it was not easy to resist,
and wherever he went, a rich blessing seemed to hang upon his footsteps.
In these circumstances, he was earnestly solicited by many of his brethren
to abandon the idea of a foreign mission, which had been with him the
cherished idea of many years, and devote himself to the work of an evan-
gelist, in his own country. He, however, consented only to postpone the
carrying into effect of his purpose to be a missionary, and he never relin-
quished it till the failure of his health in 1822 obliged him to do so. He
was ordained an evangelist by the South Consociation of Litchfield county
in the summer of 1817.
As Mr. Nettleton, at the time he was licensed to preach, regarded him-
self as destined to a foreign mission, he declined preaching as a candidate
in any vacant parish, choosing rather to be employed in building up waste
places in the church. AYith this view, he visited the Eastern part of Connec-
ticut, that borders on Rhode Island, and laboured, for a short time, in
several places, which had formerly been the theatre of the celebrated
Davenport's fanatical ministrations, and which, as the legitimate result of
that procedure, had been given up to almost every species of error and
extravagance, for nearly three quarters of a century. Mr. Nettleton took
great pains to ascertain from some of the elderly people, who had a recollec-
tion of those times, the character of the seed which had produced such
bitter fruit ; and the result was a firm conviction that it was a gross departure
from both the order and purity of the Gospel. As one of the eflfects of that
system of measures he found an utter aversion, and even deadly hostility, to a
settled ministry ; and, as the natural accompaniment of such a state of things,
a disposition to listen to every unauthorized teacher and obey every irregu-
lar impulse. His observations there were of great use to him in forming his
views of what constitutes a legitimate evangelism, and in guarding him
against many of the evils to which that system is liable to be perverted.
It is not known that there were any very strongly marked results from his
labours in that region of spiritual desolation, though there is little doubt
that the months which he spent there, had an important bearing upon his
whole subsequent course.
During the next ten years, that is from 1812 to 1822, he was constantly
acting as an evangelist, and wherever he went, a remarkable blessing attended
his labours. It is impossible, in this brief sketch, to do much more than
barely enumerate the places in which he laboured. Within the period just
mentioned, he was engaged, in connection with more or less extensive revivals,
in the following towns and parishes in Connecticut : — namely, Derby, South
Britain, South Salem, Danbury, Monroe, North Lyme, Hadlyme, Bloom-
tield, Milton, South Farms, Chester, East Granby, Bolton, Manchester,
West Granby, Salisbury, Bridgewater, Torrington, Waterbury, Upper
Middletown, Rocky Hill, Ashford, Eastford, New Haven, North Killing-
worth, North Madison, Wethersfield, Newington, Farmingtou, Litchfield,
Somers, and Tolland. In Massachusetts, he laboured for some time with
the same happy results, in the towns of Pittsfield, Lenox, Lee, and Wilbra-
ham. In New York, at Saratoga, Ballston, Malta, Milton, Schenectady,
and Nassau. In most of these places, there were scores, and in some of
them hundreds, added to the church through his instrumentality.
Vol. II. 69
546 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
The amount of labour which Mr. Ncttloton performed during the period
now referred to, would seem almost incredible, especially when it is borne in
mind that he never possessed much vigour of constitution. For ten years
he preaeliod almost unifonuly throe times on the Sabbath, and several times
during the week, besides performing a great amount of more private minis-
terial labour. But at length, in the autumn of 1822, he was attacked by
a violent disease which brought him so low, that neither ho nor his friends
had, for some time, any expectation of his recovery. His disease was a
typhus fever ; but his case was rendered the more alarming, not to say hope-
less, from the previous long continued exhaustion to which his physical system
had been subjected. His illness occurred at Bolton, at the house of his
intimate friend and classmate, the Bev. Philander Parmelee,* who watched
over him with the aifcction and interest of a brother, but who, alas, took the
disease from him, and died before Mr. Nettleton's recovery. Mr. N., during
the period of his illness, and in the prospect, as he supposed, of immediate
dissolution, had great peace of mind, and was occupied much in reviewing
the interesting scenes through which he had passed in preceding years, and
especially in calling to mind the countenances of many whom he hoped ere
long to meet and recognise as the fruits of his ministry. His recovery was
very gradual, and was never complete ; for, though he performed considera-
ble labour afterwards, his power of endurance was greatly diminished, and he
was obliged to husband his little strength with the utmost care. While he
was yet upon his bed at Bolton, he was not a little worried by applications
for his services from various quarters, as soon as his health should permit;
in consequence of which, a neighbouring minister, probably with Mr. N.'s
consent, if not by his request, circulated through one of the religious news-
papers a card containing information of his enfeebled state, and expressing
the wish that he might not be any longer embarrassed by applications which
it was impossible for him to meet.
For about two years, Mr. Nettleton's public labours were almost entirely
suspended. During this period he made a journey for the benefit of his
health to Machias, Me., and another to Montreal; — the latter, in company
with the Bev. Dr. Macauley and some other friends. He was, however,
always about his Master's business ; and if he could not serve Him in one
way, he would in another. Previous to his illness, he had felt the need
of a Hymn Book adapted more particularly to the existing state of the
Church, than any with which he was acquainted; and he had e\:en formed
the purpose of compiling one, and done something towards collecting the
materials. The protracted indisposition which interrupted his accustomed
labours, left him with sufficient strength, while it secured to him the requi-
site leisure, for prosecuting this favourite object. The work was completed
and published under the title of "The Village Hymns," in 1824. It cer-
tainly is not without some defects in point of taste, and yet it is on the
whole well adapted to the purpose for which it was designed, and has had a
more extensive circulation than perhaps any similar work, during the same
period,
*P(iLLANDER Parmelee, .<!on of Josi.ah Parmelee, was born in North Killingworth, Conn.,
in the year 1783. He was graduated at Yale College in 1809; was ordained pastor of the church
in Victor, N. Y., May 5, 1812; was dismissed December 28, 1814; was installed pastor of the
church in Bolton, Conn., Novembers, 1815; and died December 27, 1822, aged thirty-nine,
ile was a laborious, earnest, and faithful minister.
ASAHEL NETTLETON. 547
After Mr. Ncttleton had so fttr recovered his health as to justify the hope
that he might resume his public labours with safety, he began to preach
occasionally, where there seemed to be a special call for his services. In the
autumn of 1824, he was engaged for some time at Bethlem, during a season
of revival, in assisting the Rev. Mr. Langdon, who was in feeble health,
until his own increased indisposition obliged him to suspend his labours.
In the spring of 1825, he preached a good deal in Brooklyn, L. I., with
manifest tokens of the Divine favour. In the summer of the same year, he
visited Taunton, Mass., where there were extensive revivals in connection
with his labours in two diiferent parishes. From February to November,
1826, he laboured at Jamaica, L. I., where he was instrumental not only
of healing serious divisions in the church, but of greatly increasing both its
spirituality and ifs numbers. From Jamaica he went to Albany, where he
remained during nearly the whole winter of 1826 -27 ; and, though his health
at this time was exceedingly feeble, he preached frequently in the different
churches, with great acceptance and with much apparent effect. In the
spring of 1827, he repaired to Durham, N. Y., with his health so entirely
prostrate that he seems to have regarded himself as near the end of his
course ; but even here he could not entirely desist from preaching, and a
copious blessing crowned his labours. In the summer of the same year, we
find him at Lexington Heights, on the Catskill Mountain, labouring in all
his feebleness and yet with great power, and some thirty or forty, in conse-
quence of his labours, apparently finding the joy and peace in believing.
In the autumn of 1827, Mr. Nettleton determined to try the effect upon
his health of a more Southern climate. Accordingly, he directed his course
to Virginia, where he remained labouring, as far as his health would permit,
until the spring of 1829. He spent considerable time in Prince Edward
County, with the Rev. Dr. John H. Rice, founder and first Professor of the
Union Theological Seminary ; and here he was instrumental of an extensive
revival which resulted in large accessions to the church. His influence upon
the students of the Seminary also, with whom he was brought much in con-
tact, was most salutary. In the warm season he crossed the Alleghany
Mountains, and travelled considerably in the Western part of the State, and
wherever he went, was met with expressions of the strongest Christian affec-
tion. He preached with no inconsiderable effect in various places ; but his
influence was thought to have been most important in quickening and direct-
ing the minds of ministers, especially on the subject of revivals of religion.
Having returned to New England in the spring of 1829, he was occupied
during the following summer in preaching in several different places, but
without any very decided visible effect, except at Monson, Mass., where a
general attention to religion prevailed. The summer of 1830 also he spent
in New England, labouring, however, still less, on account of his increased
bodily debility. During the winter of 1830-31, he preached a good deal in
the city of New York, and in Newark, N. J., amidst a plentiful effusion of
Divine influences.
In the spring of 1831, bv the advice of many of his friends, he took a voy-
age to England, chiefly for the benefit of his health. He also had long felt a
deep interest in the religious state of things in Great Britain, and was desirous
of satisfying himself in respect to it from personal observation. He was absent
a little more than a voar, during which time he visited various parts not only
548 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
of EnglauJ, but of Scotland and Ireland also. Ho preached in different places,
but liis manner was so utterly unlike any thing to which they had been accus-
tomed, that he rather left his audiences marvelling at the recorded effect of
his labours at home. In addition to this, his peculiarities of character, some
of which his best friends could not but regret, were particularly out of place
in British society ; and, though there were not wanting those who made duo
allowance for his physical infirmities and constitutional eccentricities, it may
reasonably be doubted whether, on the whole, he passed for any thing like
his real value. He was often questioned in respect to his views of Ameri-
can revivals, and, in some instances, meetings of ministers were held for the
express purpose of hearing his account of them ; and he was not a little
pained to find that many excellent clergymen had come not only to look
upon them with suspicion, bxit to confound them altogether with the fanatical
movements which had then begun to convulse so many of our churches.
He returned from England in August, 1832. In the autumn of 1833, he
preached, for some time, at Enfield, Conn., where an extensive revival
accompanied his labours. During the same year, he laboured also in several
other places, in which more or less of special Divine influence was
experienced.
The year 1833 witnessed to the formation of the Pastoral Union of Con-
necticut, and the Theological Institute at East Windsor. His heart was
much in these measures, as he supposed that they were strongly demanded
by the existing religious state of things in Connecticut. When the Semi-
nary was organized, he was appointed to the Professorship of Pastoral duty.
Though he did not accept the appointment, he took up his abode at East
Windsor, and, besides delivering occasional lectures to the students,
co-operated with the friends of the institution, in every way that he could,
for the advancement of its prosperity.
In the year 1839, he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from
Hampden Sydney College in Virginia, and from Jefferson College in Penn-
sylvania ; and it was nothing but his own earnest request to the contrary,
that prevented its being conferred upon him, several years before, by one of
the New England Colleges. He was not at all gratified by the distinction
when it actually came, though, after a little consultation with his friends,
he determined to let it pass in silence.
Dr. Nettleton's first visit at the South in the years 1827-28-29, procured
for him a large circle of friends, who ever afterwards cherished the deepest
interest in his welfare, and towards whom he, in return, exercised the most
affectionate Christian regard. As his health required him, as far as possible,
to escape from the rigours of a Northern climate, during the cold season, he
passed several of his winters in Virginia, where he was always met by his old
friends with a cordial welcome ; and even when he was unable to preach, they
felt that they were gainers from having him in the midst of them. By nursing
his shattered constitution with the utmost care, he was enabled to keep him-
self, for the most part, tolerably comfortable, until the summer of 1841,
when one of the most painful diseases with which humanity is afflicted,
fastened upon him. In Febmary, 1843, he submitted to an operation which
gave him partial relief ; and in December of the same year, to another, with
similar effect ; but in each case the disease quickly regained its power, and
his strength gradually failed, until the 16th of May, 1844, when he endured
the last struggle and entered into his final rest.
ASAHEL NETTLETON. 549
The period that intervened between the commencement and the close of
his last illness, was marked by great suffering indeed, but by great patience,
and tranquillity, and whatever could furnish evidence of the most mature
preparation for Heaven. Whenever the temporary or partial suspension
of pain would admit, he was occupied in reading some standard work on
Theology or Church History, and especially in the diligent, and even criti-
cal, study of God's word. To one of his friends who found him one morning
with the Greek Testament in his hand, he said, " You will perhaps wonder
that I should bo reading this. You may suppose that a person in my situ-
ation would prefer to read the translation. But I seem to get nearer the
fountain, when I read the original. It is like drinking water at the spring,
rather than from a vessel in which it has been carried away. By reading
the Greek, I get shades of meaning which cannot be expressed in any
translation." His exercises in the near prospect of death were such as
might have been expected by those who had been familiar with his character
and life. There were no demonstrations of ecstatic feeling, such as are
sometimes witnessed in connection with very equivocal evidence of prepara-
tion for death; but there was a calm, humble, undoubting confidence in the
merits of the Saviour, and a cordial acquiescence in the Divine will, in
respect to the time and manner of his departure. He was alive to every
thing that had even a remote bearing upon the prosperity of the Redeemer's
Kingdom, after every thing earthly had ceased to interest him ; and he dwelt
with great delight upon the thought of meeting in Heaven those who, by
God's grace, had been converted through his instrumentality. After death
had so nearly done its work that his lips had ceased to move, he indicated,
by a motion of the head, that all was peace.
It will not be questioned by any who knew Dr. Nettleton well, that he
possessed, in many respects, a very uncommon character, and sustained a
relation to the church and to his generation, so peculiar, that he may be
considered as having stood well nigh alone.
The character of his intellect has been already hinted at, as having been
distinguished rather for the ability to discriminate with accuracy, and com-
prehend the remoter relations of things, than to expatiate in the regions of
taste and imagination. He was especially remarkable for great natural
hagacity, — for an almost intuitive perception of the workings of the human
heart ; though it is not easy to say how much of this part of his intellectual
character was original, and how much was the effect of culture and of
circumstances. Though he was never married, and of course never sustained
some of the more endearing relations, yet it was manifest to all who knew
him, that his heart was the native dwelling place of generosity and kindness.
His Christian character, as it had its origin in a protracted course of deep
spiritual struggles and communings with his own heart, was distinguished
for humility, self-distrust, self-scrutiny, and a sense of entire dependance on
God's abounding grace.
It is not to be disguised that there was a vein of something like eccentri-
city in Dr. Nettleton's character ; though it is possible that much of what
appeared under that aspect, was to be referred less to original constitution
than to a morbid state of mind incident to bodily disease. And then it
cannot be questioned that some of the very things that were set down as
marks of eccentricity, were actually, in many instances, instrumental of
promoting rather than impeding his usefulness. His brethren sometimes
550 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL
marvelled at his sudden disappearance from one place, and his suddon
appearance in another ; and as he was little accustomed to commit himself
to any engagements for a future day, not much could be known in
respect to his movements, until they became matter of history. Thero
were some important places which he was often solicited in vain to
visit ; and though, no doubt, he had reasons for declining the requests, which
were quite satisfactory to himself, yet, as he did not communicate them to
others, there were some who were disposed to charge him with the semblance
of caprice. I remember to have heard a most respectable clergyman in
England speak of him in no very measured tone of complaint, for having
encouraged him to expect his services on a Sabbath morning, up to the very
last moment, and then, without giving him any satisfactory reason, leaving
him to supply his own pulpit. It was no doubt the eifeet of an impulse
which, either from constitution or from habit, he found it difficult to resist.
Dr. Nettleton's preaching was what might be expected from what has been
already said of his intellectual and moral constitution ; and yet, after all, there
was a peculiarity about it, of which no language can convey an adequate impres-
sion. It was, for the most part, extemporaneous ; though his mind had always
been filled with his subject from previous study. It was in a high degree doctri-
nal, (Calvinisticin the sense of Edwards and Bellamy,) but every doctrine was
presented in its practical bearing. It was so plain and simple that the
veriest child could understand it. It was so close and searching, that the
hearer could hardly help feeling that he was in contact with Omniscience.
It was so deeply solemn, that it seemed sometimes as if the efi"ect could
scarcely have been heightened by an announcement of the opening of the
judgment day. And yet it was addressed almost exclusively to the under-
standing and the conscience ; — the imagination and the passions seemed
scarcely ever to be thought of. There was an indescribable power in some
of his tones, which those who have felt it can never forget. Forty years
ago, I heard him, in an extemporaneous discourse, utter the words, "Oh
yes, oh yes, oh yes," in a manner that makes my ears tingle to this
day. He had his own particular way in every thing, extending even to the
arrangement of the room in which he was to speak ; and he contrived to
avail himself even of the most minute circumstances to give additional
impressiveness to the truth. Though he was often surpassingly eloquent,
and would hold his audience as by a spell, yet his power was exerted in
turning their views upon themselves and their Saviour, and in sending them
away, not to extol his eloquence, but to weep for their own sins.
As much the greater part of Dr. Nettleton's labours were performed in
connection with revivals of religion, so it was his remarkable skill in conduct-
ing revivals, and the signal success by which his efforts were crowned, that
must give him his chief distinction with posterity. That there may be much
spurious excitement, mounting up even to a tempest of passion, where there
is little or no influence of a truly spiritual kind, is a fact that has been
painfully demonstrated both in former and latter years ; but if any thing is
susceptible of being proved by testimony, it is established beyond all
question that the revivals which were originated and sustained through his
instrumentality, bore, in no common degree, a Heavenly impress. That the
Spirit wrought in them was manifest from the fact that the fruits of the
Spirit grew up from them ; and not only were large numbers added to the
church, but it was comparatively a rare thing that an instance of apostacy
I
J
ASAHEL NETTLETON. 55]^
subsequently occurred. Those who have been most competent to judge,
have expressed the opinion that the New England Churches have never
known a generation of more humble, consistent, and devoted Christians, than
those who came into the church under the ministry of Dr. Nettleton.
It is natural to inquire how these favourable results were secured ; — what
system of measures was adopted, to accomplish so great an amount of good,
with so small an admixture of evil. That which was chiefly relied upon,
was the simple, direct, and earnest exhibition of Divine truth. Dr. Nettle-
ton, at the commencement of his labours in a place, was accustomed to deal
in great faithfulness with the church, with a view to impress them with the
importance of the blessing they were to seek, and to lead them to cast
themselves in humble dependance on the influences of the Holy Spirit. He
kept an eye out continually, carefully observing each successive change both
in the church and in the world, and adapting his instructions and exhorta-
tions to every phase of the public feeling. When he supposed the state of
things would warrant such a measure, he appointed a special meeting for
the inquiring, and spent an hour in passing round among them, to ascertain,
by conversation in a low tone, the state of each mind, and to give the appro-
priate directions and counsels. And while he was thus engaged, the church,
or a portion of the church, were frequently assembled, to supplicate the
Divine blessing upon his labours in the inquiry-meeting. He constantly
urged to the utmost caution against a spurious experience ; dwelling much
upon the deceitfulness of the heart, the temptations to self-deception, and
the various ways in which it may be accomplished. He discouraged every
approach to ostentation and vain glorying, and often exhorted professors of
religion to talk little about the progress of the work, as that was one of the
ways in which the Spirit miglit be grieved away. His great object in his
addresses to the impenitent seemed to be, to press their consciences to the
utmost, to make them feel that they fully deserved the doom which the
Bible threatens, that God's grace alone could save them from it, and that
while there was a fountain of free salvation opened in the Gospel, they
would never avail themselves of it without an influence from on high. He
insisted upon the utmost stillness and order being maintained in every meet-
ing ; and where there were any indications of disorder or excess, he met
them with prompt and decided resistance. On one occasion, an individual
was so overwhelmed that he lost his self-possession and had begun to make
some wild external demonstrations of distress : Dr. N. stopped in the midst
of his address, until the person was removed from the room, and then
went on, as if nothing unusual had happened. Wherever he laboured in a
parish that had a stated pastor, he always consulted him in respect to every
movement, and took pains to let it appear that he was not there as a dicta-
tor, but only as an auxiliary. The consequence of this was that, instead
of alienating from the pastor the aff"ections of his flock, as has too often
happened in similar cases, he almost always contributed to fix him more
firmly in their affectionate regards, and sometimes to restore him to their
confidence and good-will, after a protracted season of coldness, if not of
positive alienation.
There was, after all, something that gave character and effect to his meas-
ures, which has not been, and perhaps cannot be, described. He had a
manner of doing little things that was perfectly inimitable — another, in
attempting, the same, might not only defeat his end, but render himself
552 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
absolutely ridiculous. He knew how to meet every case with the most
appropriate counsels ; aud not unfroquently he produced the deepest impres-
sion by absolute silence, where he knew that tho individual had expected to
be personally addressed. When it is said that he had no machinery in con-
nection with the ordinary means of grace, beyond an inquiry-meeting, it is
due to truth also to say that every thing that he said and did was so pecu-
liar, as to form what might almost seem a distinct system of measures.
Dr. Nettleton's religious views he held with great tenacity, while he
regarded with corresponding jealousy any doctrines which ho thought incon-
sistent with them, or any statements which seemed to him to impair their
effect. A portion of the New England clergy and some in tho Middle
States, he considered as having adopted some philosophical views, particu-
larly in connection with the doctrine of the Divine purposes and of the Divine
influence, which were fitted to w^caken, if not to undermine, the Christian
system. These speculations, it is well known, for several years, formed the
subject of an earnest, not to say bitter, controversy ; and though Dr. Net-
tleton took no public part in it, probably no clergyman in tho country
marked its progress with deeper and more constant solicitude. It was the
burden of his thoughts, and, to a great extent, the subject of his conversa-
tion and his correspondence. So continually did he dwell upon it, that it
seemed at length to give a hue to all his intellectual exercises ; and perhaps
it is not too much to say, that he contracted a morbid sensibility in respect
to it. And even in his last days, while he expressed a tender regard for
those of his brethren who differed from him, his views seem to have under-
gone no change in regard to the nature and importance of the points of
difference. But though some who agreed with him may have still thought
that he became too much the man "of one idea," and though some who
differed from him may have charged him with the want of due lenity
towards his theological adversaries, yet it is confidently believed that all
are now agreed iu pronouncing him a most conscientious, faithful, and
honoured minister of Jesus Christ.
FROM THE REY. EDWARD BEECHER, D. D.
Galesburg, 111., June 2, 1856.
Dear Brother: In accordance with your request I will state some of my recol-
lections of Rr. Nettleton.
The time of my most familiar and intimate acquaintance with him was from
the year 1818, to the year 1822. During these years occurred my college life, in
Yale College, and during these years Mr. Nettleton luboured most abundantly at
Litchfield and at New Haven. Hut it was at Litchfield that I was brought into
the most intimate and confidential relations to him. In the autumn of 1821, my
father was obliged, from ill health, to suspend his labours and to travel. Mr. Net-
tleton supplied his pulpit from the beginning of September to the middle of
January, 1822. During this time he was the instrument, in the hand of God, of
a powerful revival, in which there were seventy or more hopeful converts. In my
father's absence, he was wont freely to converse with me concerning the work,
when I was at home, and in particular during the six weeks vacation. During this
time I was his bedfellow, and many of the wakeful hours of the night I spent in
free and familiar conversation with him. He gave me an outline of his past life,
and especially of his college life; of his entrance into the ministry; of the man-
ner in which he was led to engage in his labours as an Evangelist; of his theorj'-
of preaching, and of his principles and modes of labouring in revivals. All of
ASAHEL NETTJ^ETON. 553
this was to me deeply interesting; for thougli I did not then indulge the hope of
the ChrisLian, yet my mind was habitually and solemnly impressed with the
truth, and I felt a strong desire for the progress of the revival, and a strong inter-
est in him as my father's friend and God's instrument in the work. When, after
this, he came to Xeu" Haven in 1822, I then also listened to his preaching, and
attended the great meetings of enquir}' which were held in a spacious ball-room,
at which the students of the College as well as the people of New Haven were
present.
All of these scenes transpired before the breaking forth of the theological con-
troversies in Connecticut, and when Doctors Tjlcr, Taylor, Hewitt, and my father,
together with all the other pastors of the State, were actingin delightful fraternal
unity and confidence. It was also before his illness in October, 1822, by which
he was reduced to the borders of the grave, and from the shock of which his
constitution never fully rallied. ^Vhen I knew him, therefore, he was in the
prime of life, and in the full tide of laborious success.
The central element and impelling force in his character was an uncommonly
constant and firm belief of the realities of the invisible world, of the magnitude
and intensity of human depravit}^, and of the absolute necessity of regeneration
and sanctification in order to save the soul. In those who are truly converted
there is a great difference in the depth to which this conviction penetrates the
mind. Some, at the time of regeneration, are not long or deeply distressed;
others have a season of deep conviction and fearin which, in the light of eternity,
the world loses its charms, and nothing has an}^ interest to them but salvation.
But after the crisis is past, their interest in a wide range of subjects returns. In
Mr. Nettleton this all absorbing intensit}' of interest in salvation never passed
away. He had comparatively no interest but in this one thing, the salvation of
the soul. His mental powers were very good; but he took little or no interest in
science, or literature, or art. All his energies were absorbed in one purpose, — to
save his own soul and the souls of others. Hence his early and all-absorbing inter-
est in Theology. In College he studied other things, as duty required, but ever,
and in all places, he recurred to this as his chosen theme. He studied it also not
merely metaphysically, but experimentally and for practical ends.
The first effect of his coming into an}" place was to bring Christians into that
atmosphere of eternal realities in which he lived. Of this the Holy Spirit was
no doubt the Author, but he used the laws of human sympathy in effecting his
purposes. His deep solemnit}' of manner he never laid aside in the presence of
impenitent sinners, so that to those who saw him only from this point he seemed
unsocial, not to say distant or repulsive. But to those to whom, without fear of
injurious results, he freely disclosed himself, there was no such appearance. He
was remarkably kind, social, and communicative, and seemed to delight in opening
his heart to those in whom he could confide. There was also a vein of humour
that, in his confidential hours, often disclosed itself in sanctified forms of social
recreation.
The style of Mr. Xettleton was simple, direct, and earnest, without any
attempt at fine writing. He did not rely upon the stimulus of a gorgeous imagin-
ation, nor upon the excitement of the natural S3'mpathies, but upon a full and
clear presentation of doctrinal truth, in its immediate practical relations.
He aimed at the average common mind and not at leading minds. He sought
also to fix a few truths deeply in one sermon, rather than to go over a wide field
of thought. For this purpose he often deliberately resorted to a frequent repeti-
tion of the leading ideas, till they were deeply rooted in the mind.
He once illustrated to me his theory on this subject by the following similitude.
A shepherd driving before him a large flock of sheep does not go straight on in
the path, in the centre of the road. If he did, he Avould soon leave most of the
flock behind. To avert this he often stops and turns now to the right and now
Vol. II. 70
554 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
to the left, so as to keep the whole flock before him. Some jreachers, he said,
drive a few of the audience before tliem, but soon outrun and leave behind, strag-
gling on the right hand and the left, a large portion of their flocks.
He said also that a large class of minds were awakened and convinced of sin,
not by any connected train of reasoning, but by some one sentence or word which
smites and penetrates them like an arrow.
He illustrated this remark by a reference to a sermon that I had heard on the
parable of the lost sheep. In one part of the sermon he came to a point in his
description of the state of the sinner, where he rose to the climax of emotion
and impression, by ringing out in clear and thrilling tones the words lost, LOST,
LOST. It startled and electrified me at the time, but I did not know how great was
its practical power, till he told me that those words had been the arrows of the
Almighty to many in the various places in which the sermon had been delivered.
His own deep experience gave him a keen insight into the hearts of others.
He saw intuitively the tendencies of circumstances and of measures in a revival
of religion, and watched them with a minuteness of care and a depth of interest
that at times would seem excessive; and yet results always justified his judg-
ment. Did time and space allow, I could illustrate these remarks by some spe-
cimens of his sagacious measures in various circumstances, and of their results;
but my limits forbid such details.
So long as I knew Mr. Nettleton, he never resorted to what are called " anxious
seats," nor did he call on his hearers to rise for prayer or to testify their purpose
to serve God. Nor did he ever engage in protracted meetings. The services of
the Sabbath and one or two weekly lectures he generally regarded as sufficient,
in connection with meetings of enquirers, for religious conversation, and small
social circles for exhortation and prayer.
The tones of his voice were deep and solemn, his person was dignified and com-
manding, and in his countenance and whole aspect there was such a manifesta-
tion of absolute conviction of eternal realities, and of deep earnestness and
emotion, that few could remain long in his presence unmoved.
Of his developments after the opening of the controversy concerning New
Haven Theology, I have not spoken. I was not surprised at his feelings. They
grew out of his deep religious experience. But into the right or the wrong of
that controversy I can not enter. I prefer to revert to those .scenes where he
stood shoulder to shoulder with my honoured father. Dr. Taylor, Dr. Tyler, Dr.
Hewitt, and other leaders of the sacramental host, whom God blessed as his
agents in that revival, in which my hopes of Heaven and tho.se of hundreds of
others first began. May God soon restore such union and such revivals with
augmented power.
I am yours with fraternal affection,
EDWARD BEECHER.
HARYET LOOMIS. 555
HARVEY LOOMIS *
1811—1825.
Harvey Loomis was born in Torringford, Conn., in the year 1785.
His father was Joseph Loomis, a farmer in Torringford, and his mother's
name was RhodyStarks. His early years were spent in labouring upon his
father's farm ; but, being ambitious of a collegiate education, he fitted for
College, and entered at Williams in 1804, and graduated in 1809. He
prosecuted his theological studies partly under the Rev. Mr. Mills, the
pastor of the church with which he was connected, and partly under the
Rev. Ebenezcr Porter of Washington, Conn., afterwards Professor in the
Andover Theological Seminary.
Having received license to preach the Gospel, he went, in the summer of
1811, to Bangor, Mc., which presented at once a difficult and highly impor-
tant field of ministerial labour. On the 27th of November following, he
was ordained over a church consisting of only four members, which was
organized on the preceding day, and embraced all the male professors of
religion in the town at that time. His ordination sermon was preached by
the Rev. Eliphalet Gillet of Hallowell. For a year after his settlement,
he preached in an unfinished hall over some stores ; but in 1812 the Court
House was built, designed for the double purpose of administering Law and
Gospel ; and in this he preached till 1821, when the first meeting-house
was erected. He at once showed in his preaching and in his intercourse
with the people, that, while he was thoroughly a gentleman in his manners
and feelings, he was an uncompromising Puritan in his principles. He had
two public services on the Sabbath, but no meeting on Sabbath evening,
and but one conference or prayer meeting in the week ; and to this he
adhered during his whole ministry, not excepting even seasons of unusual
religious interest. He preached at first prominently on the Divine inspira-
tion of the Scriptures, and then drew out the doctrines and duties which he
believed were contained in them.
During the first three years of his ministry, though his preaching was
usually attended by a large congregation, comparatively few joined the
church : at the close of this period, however, religion received a fresh
impulse, in consequence of which, a very considerable number were added ;
and from that time till the close of his ministry, there was scarcely a com-
munion season which did not witness to some increase of the number of
communicants. In his whole ministry, one hundred and seven were added
by profession, and forty by recommendation from other churches. The
church became strong and influential, not from the number of its members,
but from the fact that it embraced nearly all of the more prominent and
influential men of the place.
The most striking event in Mr. Loomis' life was the manner in which it
closed. The following account of it has kindly been furnished by one of his
parishioners, the lion. Jacob McGaw, who was an eye-witness of what he
describes : —
•MSS. from the lion. Jacob McGaw, Rev. J. Eldridge, Jr., and Doctors McEwen and
i^hepard.
556 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
" The morning of the first Sabbath in January, 1825, was very inclement, —
the severe cold being accompanied with wind and falling snow. Mr. Loomis
came on foot from his house to the church, — the distance of about one-third
of a mile, facing the storm the greater part of the way. He had no extra
garment except his cloak, lie walked steadily into the church, without
any thing unusual iu his appearance, shook the snow from his cloak, and
passed directly into the pulpit. After sitting four or five minutes, beseemed
to be falling from his seat. Instantly there was a rush to ascertain the
cause ; but before any one could reach him, he was lying upon the floor.
He was immediately raised to his seat ; but his appearance was frightfully
death-like. Medical aid was very soon obtained, and he was removed to
the vestibule of the church, when an attempt was made to bleed him, but
without success. Every effort to promote the circulation of the blood,
and increase warmth, failed. He lay in an insensible state, sending forth
from the lungs an alarming sound, resembling a snore, more nearly than
any thing else, for half an hour. By this time life was nearly extinct. The
body was removed to a dwelling house, near by, and put into a warm bath,
as soon as one could be provided ; but no signs of life remained, and every
effort to resuscitate him proved unavailing. He was dead. It was some-
what reixiarkable that the sermon which he had in his pocket to preach that
morning, was on the text, — " This year thou shalt die."
The only production of Mr. Loomis' pen that appeared in print was a
Sermon preached before the Maine Missionary Society in 1823.
Mr. Loomis was married, in the autumn of 1811, to Anne Battelle of
Torringford, Conn. They had six children, only two of whom lived to
maturity. Mrs. Loomis still (1856) survives.
FROM THE REV. GEORGE E. ADAMS, D. D.
Brunswick, Me., July 9, 185G.
My dear Sir : It was my privilege, and a great privilege I esteem it, to pass a
very considerable part of my boyhood and youth under the pastoral care of the
late Rev. Harvey Loomis, of Bangor, Maine. During the latter portion of his
ministry 1 was, indeed, absent from home the greater part of each year, at Col-
lege, and subsequently at the Theological Seminary, yet even then was permitted
to maintain, to no inconsiderable extent, my acquaintance with Mr. Loomis,
through my annual visits to Bangor, and through the letters constantly received
from my father and other friends, whicli seldom failed to mention our beloved
minister. My first errand after reaching home and my last before leaving it
were, uniformly, to call upon Mr. L.; and the cordiality with which he greeted
me, at my coming, and tlie mingled good cheer and solemnity with which he
blessed me, at the door, at i)arting, I have not yet forgotten, and shall never
forget.
Few ministers have been more loved and revered b}' their parishioners, and
few have been more eminently successful in their labours, than he of whom I
write. His memory is cherished with unabated interest after the lapse of over
thirty years, by those of his former charge, who still survive.
It was Mr. Loomis' lot to be settled in the ministry in Bangor, — now a flou-
rishing city of more than twenty thousand inhabitants, and wielding an extensive
and powerful influence, — almost at the beginning of its history, at the very turning
point of its moral and religious destiny. At that time, as previously, the place,
though having in it many intelligent and well educated persons, was notorious
for its irrcligion and wickedness. It had no Sabbath, and not more than two
HARVEY LOOMIS. 557
or threa men who mailc any j^rofessions of piety. One godly man, the late
venerable Deacon Boyd, used sometimes at evening to take liis stand on an emi-
nence, near his house, fiom which he could see, at once, almost all the lights in
the village, and reflect with sorrow, that, from all those dwellings not one voice
of prayer, perhaps, would ascend towards Heaven. At the close of Mr. Loomis'
ministry, Bangor was distinguished for the number and devotedness of its
church members, and the marked and manifest predominance in it of an evan-
gelical influence. A large proportion of its leading men were Christians. In
almost every one of its more influential families, there was at least one professor
of religion. Its social intercourse was pervaded and controlled by a religious
spirit. The weekly "conference," on Wednesday evening, had become one of
the recognized " institutions " of the place, with which no other appointment
might interfere. An ample foundation had been laid for that religious prosperity,
with which the city has been favoured, and that religious enterprise, by which it
has been so honourably characterized, for many years. And the transformation, —
for it was nothing less, — which the place had experienced, was due, under God,
in great measure, to the instrumentality of Mr. Loomis.
Whence the efficiency of this excellent minister ? What were the qualities of
person and character, which secured for him the most ardent and respectful
attachment of his parishioners, and the eminent success which crowned his
labours ?
Mr. L. had the advantage of a fine person and a natural grace of manner. His
form was commanding, his countenance noble and full of expression, his eye
brilliant and beaming. His voice was rich and powerful, with a musical ring,
and in some of its intonations, most impressive and thrilling. His enunciation
was remarkably clear and distinct. His heart was susceptible, aifectionate,
sympathizing: and, fortunatel}', the outer man, — which is not always the case, —
was attuned to the inward; so that the geniality and kindliness of his feelings
were not locked out of sight, beneath inflexible muscles, and a general sluggish-
ness and immobility of the external man, but beamed out, in look, and tone, and
gesture, to interest, attract, comfort all with whom he came in contact. How
often have I heard testimony, from those who had experienced sore afflictions, to
the warm and gushing sympathies of our good minister! In the house of sick-
ness and of sorrow, he deported himself as though he were the fiither, the
husband, the brother: he entered into the case as though it were his own. He
has been known to rise from his bed, in the middle of the night, and go to some
dwelling, in which there was dangerous sickness, to inquire after the condition
of the sufferer. A mother has told me to-daj' how, in one instance, the pastor
never failed, for six successive weeks, to visit her house, at least once a day, from
the distance of more than a mile, to pray with her sick and dying child.
While thus tender and full of affectionate sympathy, Mr. L. Avas also a man
of great firmness and decision, of remarkable moral courage, of a rare self-pos-
session. In his intercourse Avith those "of the contrary part," he was not fool-
hardy or rash, he would not provoke a quarrel, — indeed, he would often shrewdly
evade a collision. But he was never afraid to express his sentiments, when he
thought proper to do so, — never embarrassed in speaking, at any suitable time, in
any company, on the subject of religion, nor would he ever compromise Mith Avhat
he believed to be error. No assaults of opposers ever found him unprepared.
No untoward circumstances ever destroyed the equanimity' of his feelings, or
occasioned a confusion of his thoughts. In the peculiar circumstances of his
ministry, he was often, of necessity, brought into close encounter with men who
denied and opposed that which he held as " the truth of the Gospel." But never,
it 's believed, did he come off from such an encounter, otherwise than triumphantly.
Our minister was not eminently learned, he was not a great student. Yet, to
all practical purposes, he was perfectly at home, not only in Theology, but in
558 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
relation to other subjects with which he had to deal. His intellectual abilities
were, naturally, of a high order. He had an active, prompt, and discriminating
mind. His views were never muddy or uncertain, but always perspicuous and
well-defined. He was distinguished especially for his never-failing good taste,
for his remarkable appropriateness, aptness, fitness. He had always at com-
mand the right tiling for the right time.
He had a great deal of what is expressively called tact. He understood human
nature. He knew men; knew how to approach them, how to deal with them.
In his theological views, Mr. Loomis was of the old-foshioned New England
stamp, — clear, unflinching, uncompromising, yet comprehensive, candid, and libe-
ral. No one could doubt the earnestness of his attachment to the great truths
of the Gospel, or the fervour of his pious regard for Christ and his cause in the
world. He was remarkable for his familiarity with the Scriptures, never at a
loss for an appropriate quotation on any occasion.
During the long season of special religious interest, which extended through
several years of the earlier part of Mr. L.'s ministry, with scarce an intermis-
.sion, from year to year, no extraordinary measures were employed. The two
Sabbath services, the weekly "conference," (so it was called,) on Wednesday
evening, the w^eekly gathering of inquirers at the Pastor's house, for private con-
versation with him, in his study, a weekly meeting of the sisters of the church,
by themselves, for prayer, and subsequently, of the brethren, by themselves, for
the same purpose, — these, with individual efforts, constituted, for substance, the
whole amount of instrumentality employed.
In the pulpit, Mr. L. was vivacious, graceful, forcible. If he was not as " pow-
erful " as some men, nor as profound as others, he was at least instructive, con-
vincing, interesting, impressive. The doctrinal element abounded in his dis-
courses, yet did not overshadow the practical. His elocution was uncommonly
good. The hymns, as he gave them out, ring in my ears to-day, after the lapse
of thirty years. The Scripture-lessons and the prayers took hold of the atten-
tion and the hearts of the worshippers. His sermons were short; rarely, I
think, exceeding twenty-five minutes.
The Wednesday evening conference, — commenced immediately after Mr. L.'s
arrival at Bangor, and still continued, — was, in his hands, a remarkable meeting.
His peculiar powers were perhaps more strikingly manifested here, than any
where else. Each brother of the church, without an exception, however limited
his gift, was led, by our good Pastor's skill and perseverance, to bear his part;
the speakers uniformly retaining a sitting posture, even after the meeting had
been transferred from the private parlours, in which it was at first held, to a
more spacious and public place, and the service, as a whole, very familiar and
simple. The conversation, after the customary devotional exercises, would com-
mence, it might be, with a question proposed by the Pastor to some brother; or,
perhaps, with a question from a brother to the Pastor. Man}- things crude,
superficial, disproportioned, even erroneous, might be said, in the course of the
hour; but, through the shrewd management of the Pastor, all would come out
right at the close. If a brother attempted to speak, and failed, as would some-
times happen, to say any thing to the purpose, Mr. li. would immediately inter-
pose, in the most natural and t^uiet way, beginning with an assent to some
particular remark of the brother, then expanding and enforcing what he might
be supposed to have attempted to express, till the good brother would really seem
to liave made a most impressive and profitable speech. If, through ignorance or
inadvertence; a false sentiment had been uttered, it would be thoroughly cor-
rected, in the mind of the speaker, as well as in the view of others, and yet so
discreetly and shrewdly, that no one in the meeting would have a consciousness
of an unpleasant contradiction or disagreement. In the meetings referred to,
persons, not church-members, even opposers of evangelical sentiments, were
I
HARVEY LOOMIS 559
allowed, if they saw fit, to propose inquiries or objections, and to express their
own views. There w.as one notable case, well remembered, in which an objector,
a man of great intelligence and ability, availed himself of this privilege, for seve-
ral successive weeks, and that, in the end, through the Pastor's remarkable tact,
self-possession, and focility of speech, to the objector's most manifest discom-
fiture, and the great advantage of the system of doctrine he had assailed.
For some considerable time previous to Mr. L.'s death, the weeklj^ conference
had been held" in a school-room, into which, on one side, a large fireplace pro-
jected, leaving a recess on each side of the chimney. In one of these recesses,
was a desk, at which the pastor sat. For several weeks after his death, no one
ventured to occupy his seat, and tearful eyes were often turned toward the
" vacant corner." The pastor was missed at that meeting, perhaps more than
any where else. Hence it was that a young lady of the church, writing some
lines in commemoration of her departed minister, instinctively entitled her eflfti-
sion, " The Deserted Conference Room;" of which the following is an extract: —
" Ye need not hang that candle by the desk,
Ye may remove his chair, and take away his book;
He will not come to-night. He did not hear the bell,
Which told the hour of prayer.
Do ye remember, how he'd sometimes sit
In this now vacant corner, quite hid by its obscurity,
Only ye might perceive his matchless eye
Striving to read the feelings of your souls,
That he might know, if ye would hear the voice of Jesus?
Ye do remember. Well — he's not there now;
Ye may be gay and thoughtless, if ye will,
His glance shall not reprove you.
There — listen to that hymn of praise: —
Did ye not hear an angel voice take up the lofty strain,
For Thou, 0 Lamb of God, art worthy?
'Twas his voice; —
Not rising as in former days from this low temple:
Only the clearest, softest strain, waving its way
From the celestial world, just strikes the listening ear, —
And now 'tis gone."
In personal religious conversation with his people, it was by means of now
and then a few apt, pointed, timely words, spoken spontaneously and earnestly,
in the street perchance, or wherever and whenever the opportunity presented
itself, rather than by long, formal exhortations, that Mr. Loomis did his work.
For example, he had preached, on a certain Sabbath, an affecting sermon
from the words, "Is there no balm in Gilead; is there no physician there?"
A few days after, a boy of fourteen had been sent on an errand to the pastor's
study. The errand having been accomplished, Mr. L. said pleasantly to the boy,
•' G., what business do you expect to follow, when you grow up .'"' " I don't
know, Sir," was the bashful reply. " Should you have any objection to being a
minister ?" " I should be very glad to be one, if I were fit for it." With no
austerity or forced solemnity of look or tone, with a gentle smile, but with a
manifest sincerity and earnestness, Mr. Loomis replied, in the words of the pre-
ceding Sunday's text, " Is there no balm in Gilead ? Is there no physician there ?"
This was all, and it was enough. The boy soon determined to " be a minister,"
and has been a preacher of the Gospel for over thirty years.
It was not so much by hard, unintermitting, and exhausting work, — by a dead
lift, — that Mr. Loomis accomphshed, with God's blessing, what he did, as it was
by doing all things fitly, seasonably, gracefully. He worked much by making
others work. Each brother, each sister, first or last, all in the most quiet, natural
way, received an errand from the minister to his or her neighbour or friend.
Thus, as well while sitting quietly in his study at home, as while abroad, he was
continually touching springs of action, continually exerting an influence through-
out his parish.
OGO TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
No one iliing, perhaps, better explains the eminent usefulness of our minister,
than the fact of his winning so completely the love of his people, and their confi-
dence in his friendship for them individually. Each man felt that the minister
was his particular friend, and therefore stood ready to do whatever he could, to
gratify the pastor and to carry his plans into effect.
Allusion has been made to the prompt and most convincing and satisfactory
manner in which Mr. L. used to answer the questions that were, from time to time,
proposed to him, whether by objectors or candid inquirers after truth. A young
and rather uneducated girl had become interested in religion, and wished to unite
with Mr. L.'s church. But she had heard among the Methodists, — nor do we
account it a deadly sin in our Methodist friends that they have desired to retain,
as much as possible, the simplicity of the Gospel, — that Congregationalists were
very proud; they wore curls and ruffles. She was troubled at this inconsistency,
and went to talk with her minister about it. Having heard her story, — in a kind,
quiet, serious manner, with no air of irritation or controversy, he replied, " Fanny,
pride is a great sin; and it is a very common sin. Different persons are proud of
different things. Some are proud of their straight, smooth hair, and some are
proud of their curls. Some are proud of their plain, square collars, and some of
their rulUes. But there is no difference in God's estimation. He does not look
at the curled or the straight hair, the collar or the ruffle, but at the heart; and if
He sees pride there, He abhors it, no matter what the.occasion may be." Fanny's
mind was relieved; she saw that Methodist pride might be just as bad as Congre-
gational pride, and went away entirely satisfied.
An incident may be mentioned here, illustrating our minister's sound discretion
and Christian self-control. There were two brothers in Bangor, merchants,
prosperous in their business, of the highest standing in society, and of considerable
mental cultivation. They were alone in the world, having never married, and
were all to each other. They were boarding at the house of a gentleman, whose
wife was a member of Mr. L.'s church. They differed materially from him in
their religious views, and had taken great offence at something which he had said
or done, in his uncompromising attachment to what he regarded the essential
truths of the Gospel. One of these brothers died, and Mr. L. was requested to
conduct the funeral services, at the house at which they had boarded. A large
number of persons assembled; the house was full. At the moment in which the
services were about to commence, the surviving brother arose, and addressing
Mr. L., in a somewhat excited and emphatic manner, said, "Mr. Loomis, I wish
you to understand that I have invited you to attend my brother's funeral, simply
because there is no minister in the place, of my own way of thinking, and out of
respect to the lady of the house, who is a member of your church. I wish you to
make no remarks on the occasion, but only to offer a prayer." Many eyes were
turned towards the pastor, with trembling anxiety to see how he would deport
himself in such circumstances. His countenance was perfectly unmoved, wearing
its customary expression of benignant gravity. He rose in a few moments, and
said, with his calm, deep-toned voice, just as if nothing untoward had occurred.
" Let us pray." He then uttered a most tender, sympathizing, and solemn prayer,
— just such an one as might have been expected, if the brothers had been his
nearest friends, — with no allusion to the unpleasant words that had been spoken,
and thus closed the service. His friends were delighted, and gave thanks to God.
Enemies could find no fault. This occurrence did much to extend and confirm
our pastor's influence. <
Soon after Mr. L.'s arrival at Bangor, under a commission from the Massachu-
setts Missionary Society, inquiry was made of INIr. Boyd, already referred to, —
subsequently, for a long time, a venerated deacon in the church, and at that time
almost the only man known in the place as a Christian, what he thought of Mr.
Loomis. as a candidate for settlement. The good man's heart was overflowing.
HARVEY LOOMIS. 561
But he durst not speak as he felt, lest it should be inferred that Mr. L. vra.s pro-
babl}^ too rigid in his orthodox}' to suit that people. He only replied, therefore,
in his own meek and quiet way, that he liked Mr. L. very well, and that, if the
people chose to retain him as their pastor, he should certainly not object. Blessed
old man! How many burning and shining lights did he live to see in Bangor,
the fruit of the pastor's preaching and of /n's prayers!
, There was at that time in Bangor a lawj^er, of high standing, friendly to reli-
gion, the son of pious parents, but not himself a Christian, — young, and very fond
of dancing. This gentleman took an early opportunity to question the candidate,
as to his views in regard to his favourite amusement. The young minister neither
stammered nor blushed, on the one hand, nor, on the other, did he break out into a
stern denunciation of the sin of dancing. With a calm, conclusive tone, he thus
replied, — "Mr. Mc, I think that not all things are equally important, and that
some things have a claim upon our attention, prior to that which others have.
Now, it seems to me that the most important thing for you, is that you become a
true Christian; and I vrould advise you to attend t6 that immediately, and after-
ward you can dance as much as you think proper." The lawj-er did not proceed
to cross-question the witness. He took the advice given, and some few years
after, in company with some twenty or thirty others, became a worthy member
of the church of Christ, and is such, to this day, though probably too old to dance.
AVhile the question of settling Mr. L. in Bangor Avas still under discussion, a
Massachusetts gentleman, a very extensive owner of lands and timber in Bangor
and its vicinity, visited the place. He heard Mr. L. preach one of his most pointed
and faithful sermons, and immediately calling upon him, said, " Mr. Loomis, 1
don't believe a word of your doctrine, but it is just what is wanted for these mis-
erable villains here, who strip my land and steal my timber. I want you to
settle here and preach hell-fire to these wicked wretches, as hot as you can make
it. And, if you will do so, I will give you a hundred acres of land to begin with."
He assured the people, too, that they would " all go to perdition, if they did not
mend their waj-s," and that Mr. L. was just the man for them : and this he did,
knowing that if Mr. L. were settled by the town, the property of non-residents,
his own large estate among the rest, would be taxed for the minister's support.
The people generally thought that a man of Mr. L.'s gentlemanly manners,
tine person, and superior talents, would be an honour to the place, and be an
inducement to respectable persons to move in. A town meeting was called, and
a vote passed inviting Mr. L. to settle, on a salary, liberal for the times, of eight
hundred dollars a j'ear, with the provision that the town might at anj^ time dis-
solve the connection, by paying one year's salar}' in advance. In the natural
course of things, after the number of persons of other denominations had consider-
ably increased by accessions fi'ora abroad, the town availed itself of this provision:
but not until Mr. L.'s church and congregation had become strong enough to
make abundant provision, among themselves, for their minister's support.
Mr. Loomis toas, to all appearance, "just the man" for Bangor, at that
time. And though it would be absurd for me to say that I have not known
superior men, yet, if another such place as Bangor were presented to me, to-
day, requiring a minister, and all the ministers whom I have ever known were
before me, in their prime, including Mr. Loomis, I would select him for that
place. He was fitted for the place, and the place needed all the qualifications he
had. Had he been less a gentleman, less apt and shrewd, less considerate and
discreet, less popular as a preacher, in a word, less agreeable and attractive, he
could not have obtained a settlement in Bangor; nor, if he had been settled, could
he have maintained his position a year. Had he been less earnest and faithful,
or less firm in his attachment to the great truths of the Gospel, he would have
accomplished very little good in such a place; in fact, probably, he and his
Vol. IL 71
562 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
j)eople, though they might have retained tiic forms of religion, would have felt
jind manifested but little of its power.
Very truly yours,
G. E. ADAMS.
JOHN R. CRANE, D. D.*
1812—1853.
John R. Crane was born in Newark, N. J., on the 16th of April, 1787.
His parents, Daniel D. and Martha (Banks) Crane, were of highly respect-
able standing, and were members, from early life, of the Presbyterian
Church then under the pastoral care of the Rev. Dr. McWhorter. His
father was remarkable for his Christian activity, — spending a considerable
portion of liis life in religious services by way of aiding his pastor, and in
visiting and furnishing assistance to the sick, poor, and neglected. For
more than forty years, he served as an elder in the church ; and, for more
than thirty, was Judge of the Court of Common Pleas for the county of
Essex ; both which stations he adorned by his intelligence, integrity, and
piety. His second son, Johii, in very early life, discovered a strong incli-
nation for solid reading ; and, while other children of his age were engaged
in their sports, he would be found in his bed-room, intent upon volumes of
History ; and, as might be expected, he was soon distinguished for his acquisi-
tions in this department. It was early determined by his parents, in
accordance with his own earnest wish, that he should have the advantage of
a collegiate education. Having fitted for College under Mr. Finley, a dis-
tinguished teacher of languages then at Newark, he entered Princeton Col-
lege at an advanced standing, and was graduated in 1805, — when he was a
little more than eighteen years of age. with the highest honours of his
class.
Immediately after his graduation, he entered upon the study of Law in
Newark, and pursued it somewhat more than two years ; at which time
commenced a powerful revival of religion under the ministry of Dr. Griffin.
In the winter of 1807-8, he became hopefully a subject of the revival; in
consequence of which, his mind was turned away from the study of the
legal profession, and he soon resolved to devote himself to the work of the
ministry. He first made a public profession of his faith at the Communion
season in March, 1808.
A few months after this change in his feelings and purposes, he accom-
panied his pastor. Dr. Grifiin, to Andover, where he had then been recently
appointed Professor in the new Theological Institution. Here he passed
through the prescribed course of study, and, according to the usage of the
Seminary, was licensed by the Professors, during his last year, to preach for
a certain time and within prescribed limits. He was afterwards, in the
autumn of 1812, formally and regularly licensed by the Presbytery of
Jersey, with which he became connected. Previous to his leaving Andover,
overtures were made to him in regard to a settlement as pastor of the
* MSS. from Mrs. Crane and the Rev. C. J. Hinsdale.
JOHX R. CRANE. 5g3
church which had then been recently vacated by the death of the Rev. Mr.
French ; but so modest was the estimate which he had formed of himself
that he would not consent even to consider them.
Shortly after his return to Newark, he accepted an invitation from the
church and society in Danbury, Conn., to supply their pulpit, as a candi-
date for settlement ; and, after having preached to them with great accept-
ance for some time, he was suddenly arrested, in the midst of the most
flattering prospects, by an attack of hemorrhage of the lungs. Sometime
in the course of the next year, having partially recovered from this attack,
he consented to undertake to supply the Presbyterian church in the North-
ern Liberties, Philadelphia ; but, after being there a short time, he suffered
a still more copious discharge of blood, and a greater prostration of strength,
which seemed to cut off all hope, at least of being able to settle in the
ministry.
By the advice of a skilful physician, he now made an entire change in his
mode of living, — abstaining from all animal food, and every species of
labour exhausting to body or exciting to mind, and confining himself rigidly
to a milk diet. Having persevered in this course for two years and a half,
— connecting with it moderate exercise, particularly on horseback, his con-
stitution seemed to have become in a great measure renovated, and from
that time he began gradually to return to the work of preaching the
Gospel.
In May, 1816, he was united in marriage with Harriet, daughter of John
Burnet, of Newark. They now went on a journey to the West; and some
efforts were made to detain him permanently in Ohio, especially at Dayton ;
but he thought proper to discourage them. In 1818, he was invited to
preach as a candidate for settlement to the First Congregational church in
Middletown, Conn., having been preceded by twenty-two others, who had
failed to unite the people. After a probation of four Sabbaths, commencing
in August or September, he returned home, and was almost immediately
followed by a committee conveying to him a unanimous call. This call he
accepted, and on the 4th of November, 1818, he was ordained, — the Rev.
Dr. Chapin of Rocky Hill oflBciating as preacher on the occasion.
Here Mr. Crane continued, labouring in a quiet, but diligent and effective
way, during a period of almost thirty-five years. His labours were attended
with manifest tokens of the Divine favour. Besides a descent of the dews
of heavenly grace, in connection with his ordinary ministrations, he was
privileged to witness several seasons of special religious attention among his
))eople, which resulted in very considerable accessions to the church. He
was eminently devoted to the interests of his flock, and enjoyed, in a high
degree, their confidence and good will. Several years before his death, the
Wesleyan College at Middletown evinced at once their own liberality, and
their high estimate of his merits, by conferring upon him the degree of
Doctor of Divinity.
Dr. Crane enjoyed his accustomed health until within ten days previous
to his death. On Sunday the 7th of August, 1853, he began the day with-
out any symptoms of disease, and performed the public service of the
morning with his usual freedom and comfort ; but he afterwards complained
of violent pain in his stomach, which was followed by vomiting. He sub-
sequently, however,. seemed to obtain relief, an.I on Thursday following was
so well as to go to the house of a parishioner and perform the marriage
564 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ceremony. After this, his complaint returned with still greater power, and
it was apprehended, for a time, that it might develop itself as the cholera.
At a still later period, it seated itself upon his brain, when his case became
hopeless. He lingered in extreme suffering till the next Wednesday morn-
ing, the 17th of August, when his spirit took its upward flight. The ser-
mon at his funeral was preached by the Rev. Joab Brace of Newington ;
and, subsequently, another commemorative discourse was preached by the
llev. Dr. Hawes of Hartford, which was published.
Dr. Crane was the father of seven children, — two daughters and five
sons. Three of his sons were graduated at Yale College, and the fourth
entered College, but died in his Sophomore year. The eldest son, James B.,
after leaving College, studied Law, but subsequently entered the ministry,
and became successor to his father in the pastoral office. He has resigned
his charge on account of ill health.
FROM THE REV. DAVID SMITH, D. D.
Durham, Conn., June 19, 1856.
My dear Sir : I know no reason why I should decline giving you my recollec-
tions of the Rev. Dr. Crane, as he was my neighbour during the whole of his
ministry, and I had as many opportunities for forming a correct judgment of
his character and habits as most — perhaps I may say any — of the ministers
with whom he was more immediately associated. I was present at his ordina-
tion; we occasionally visited at each others' houses and preached in each others'
pulpits, and more than once has he been in my family as a comforter in the hour
of our domestic sorrow. Our relations were always of the most fraternal kind;
and I felt his death to be a severe personal affliction.
Dr. Crane's physical, intellectual, and moral man seem to me to have been in
admirable harmony. In his person he was well formed, — of about the medium
heiglit, rather inclined to be stout, and yet not so much so as to destroy the
symmetry of his form. He had not what you would call a handsome face; but
still there was a pleasant, thoughtful, intelligent expression, and often a sort of
genial brightening up of the features, that could not foil to prepossess even a
stranger in his favour. His manners, if not in the highest degree polished, were
still urbane and gentlemanly, and would pass current in the best society. He
was not a great talker; but what he said was always pertinent to the subject,
and never otherwise than creditable to his head or his heart. His mind was
much above the ordinar)^ mould: he bad an unusually retentive memory, a
cultivated taste, an excellent judgment, and the reasoning facultj^ in much more
than the common degree of strength. lie was distinguished for his prudence, —
always setting a watch at the door of bis lips. Ilis heart was kind and generous,
ever prompting him, as he had opportunity, to acts of beneficence in his various
relations. Like his great Master, he lived emphatically to bless his fellow crea-
tures. There was no eccentricity about him, — nothing to make liiTu an object of
curiosity with the multitude; but the focidties of his mind and the qualities of
his heart combined with the features of his countenance and the general bearing
of his person, to secure to him the reputation of a remarkably well balanced char-
acter, and to give him an influence in the community, which your noisy, boister-
ous, meteor-like spirits never acquire.
What T have said of the elements of Dr. Crane's character may give you some
idea of the general type of his preaching. He was not a startling and brilliant
preacher, — one whose arrival in a city would put hundreds upon inquiry whether
he was to remain over the Sabbath, or to what church they must go in order to
hear him; but he was a preacher such as Cowper has described in those well
xnown lines, as imperishable as they are beautiful; "such as Paul, were he on
JOHN R. CRANE. 5g§
earth, would hear, approve, and own." He sought not to please men by either
withholding God's truth, or presenting it in any softened or qualified form;
while, on the other hand, he had none of those false notions of ministerial
fideUty that would lead him to invest his message with artificial terrors, and
thus render it needlessly offensive and repulsive. Ilis discourses were calm,
logical, fiiithful exhibitions of Divine truth; fitted to enlighten the understand-
ing, to quicken the moral sensibilities, to guide the inquiring, to resolve the
doubting, and in all respects to accomplish the great ends of the preaching of the
Gospel. They wero not such discourses as the mere man of taste, — the hunter
for eloquent preachers, would be likely to run after; but neither were they such
as the man of the highest mental gifts and accomplishments would think lightly
of, even as literary productions. Thej' were delivered in a stjde corresponding
well with their character; — not in a highly impassioned manner, — with an
exuberance of gesture or remarkabl}" varied or impressive intonations, but with
a calm dignity combined with perfect simplicity and devout earnestness, well
fitted to open a passage for them to the heart.
Dr. Crane was a highly acceptable and useful pastor. He looked well to the
spiritual wants of his people, and mingled with them as a friend, a counsellor,
and a comforter. In seasons of affliction he was not only remarkably attentive,
but he seemed to have an intuitive discernment of the pecuharities of each case,
as well as of the manner in which it might be most appropriately met; and his
quick and lively sympathies enabled him easily to make the sorrows of other
hearts his own. I can speak on this subject with the more confidence, from
having had actual experience of his power to administer consolation in more than
one instance, when my own dwelling has been turned into a house of mourning.
Dr. Crane could not be considered, in the common acceptation of the phrase, a
public man. His natural constitution led him to form retiring habits, and made
him averse to mingling much with the world, beyond his own immediate flock.
His voice was rarely heard on any great public occasion; and his attendance
even upon the meetings of the Association of ministers to which he belonged,
was much less regular than his brethren could have wished. When he was pre-
sent, they were always edified by the part which he took in their deliberations,
and porhiips there was no member whose judgment was more readily and
promptlj- deferred to. He has left an honoured name behind him, which is
embalmed in many hearts.
Such are my recollections of Dr. Crane; and the fact that I have almost com-
pleted my eighty-ninth year, you will doubtless consider a suflBcient reason why
they are not more minute or extended.
Truly your aflectionate friend,
D. SMITH.
56g TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
SAMUEL JOHN MILLS, Jr.*
1812—1818.
Samuel J. Mills, Jr., was a son of a venerable clergyman who was,
for many years, pastor of a Congregational church in Torringford, Conn.,
and was distinguished alike for the fervour of his spirit, the success of his
labours, and the eccentricity of his character. His mother, who was a
daughter of Samuel Robbinsof Canaan, Conn., had a high place in the esteem
and affections of all who knew her. Samuel was their third child, and was
born on the 21st of April, 1783.
Under the influence of an excellent Christian education, he became the
subject of serious impressions in his early childhood ; but it was not till the
year 1798, during a scjisou of revival in his father's parish, that his atten-
tion seems to have been decidedly and earnestly directed to his soul's salva-
tion. For about two years from that period, he experienced without inter-
ruption the most pungent convictions of his own sinfulness, and the most
fearful apprehensions in respect to his future condition ; but when his case,
in his own estimation, had become hopeless, light dawned upon his darkened
mind, in consequence, as he believed, of the faithful counsels and prevail-
ing intercessions of his beloved mother ; though some months elapsed, before
he ventured to appropriate to himself the precious promises of the Gospel.
Contemporaneous with the surrender of his heart to God was the purpose
to devote himself, not only to the Christian ministry, but also to the evan-
gelizing of the Heathen. This purpose, which seems to have originated in
the very act of his conversion, he never lost sight of, for an hour, during
the course of his education, nor in any subsequent period of his life. It
seems to have been his expectation, originally, to devote himself to agricul-
tural concerns, and he actually laboured, for some time, upon a farm that
had been bequeathed to him by his maternal grandmother ; but, at the period
above referred to, he relinquished all secular pursuits, and commenced a
course of study with a view to carry out what had then become the great
purpose of his life. Having connected himself with the church under the
pastoral care of his father, and having goiie through a pi-eparatory course
of study, he joined Williams College in the autumn of 1806. During his
connection with College he was not distinguished for scholarship, — owing,
probably, in a great measure, to the fact that his faculties were fixed too
exclusively upon the great objects by which he expected to be engrossed in
after life, to allow him to reach that measure of literary and scientific
acquirement of which he was capable. A revival of considerable extent
took place in the College, during the period of his connection with it, in
which he laboured with untiring zeal and no small success , and several of
his fellow students who have since been distinguished for their usefulness
in the Church, are said to have been hopefully converted through his instru-
mentality.
It was in the early part of his college life that his ruling passion for the
salvation of the Heathen began more visibly to manifest itself. The idea of
a Foreign Mission, which had then never been broached, at least in any pal-
*ypring"s Memoir.
i
i
SAMUEL JOHN MILLS, Jr. 567
pable form, in this country, he first whispered in the ear of two or three of
his college friends, who, he supposed might have kindred sympathies ; and
he met from them a most gratifying response, which showed that the same
spirit which animated his bosom, had found a lodgment in their own. From
this time, these young men were engaged, silently indeed, but most effi-
ciently, in maturing a plan which finally developed itself in the establish-
ment of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, and
which has already been the medium of an incalculable amount of blessing to
the world.
After Mr. Mills graduated in 1809, he became a resident graduate for
a few months at Yale College, with a view to accomplish the double object
of pursuing his theological studies, and of finding, if possible, some other
young men to engage in the missionary enterprise. In the following spring,
(1810,) he joined the Theological Seminary at Andover ; and there also his
influence was constantly exerted, and deeply felt, in aid of the great cause
to which he had devoted himself. At a meeting of the General Association
of Massachusetts at Bradford, on the 27th of June, 1810, four young gen-
tlemen from the "Divinity College" at Andover, of whom Mills was one,
communicated a paper, expressing their deep interest and sense of obliga-
tion in regard to a mission to the Heathen, and asking the advice of the
Association in respect to the course which the Providence of God marked
out for them ; and the result of this measure was the establishment of the
American Board.
Soon after Mr. Mills was licensed to preach in 1812, he, in company with
the Rev. John F. Schermerhoru of the lleformed Dutch Church, made a
missionary tour through the South Western part of the United States, under
the combined direction and patronage of the Connecticut and Massachusetts
Missionary Societies, and returned the next year. The principal objects of
this mission were to preach the Gospel to the destitute, to ascertain the
moral and religious wants of the country, and to form Bible Societies and
other religious and benevolent institutions. The Report of this mission
embodied a vast amount of most important intelligence, and produced a
powerful impression on the mind of the Christian public.
In July, 1814, Mr. Mills, accompanied by the Rev. Daniel Smith, per-
formed a second missionary tour through the same region, — the extreme
limit being New Orleans. This tour was projected by Mr. Mills exclu-
sively, and was carried into effect, partly at least, by aid obtained from the
Philadelphia Bible and Missionary Societies. One of the facts which they
report in respect to Louisiana, is, "that so lately as March, 1815, a Bible
in any language could not be found, for sale, or to be given away, in New
Orleans." On this tour Mr. Mills did much to relieve the desolations with
which his previous tour had made him acquainted, especially in the distri-
bution of the Holy Scriptures. He returned to New England in the spring
of 1815, and, on the 21st of June following, received ordination at Newbu-
ryport, in company with Messrs. Richards, Bardwell, Poor, Warren, and
Meigs. The benign effects of these two missionary tours it is not easy ade-
quately to estimate. A large number of missionaries were immediately
sent into those destitute regions ; many Bibles and Tracts were circulated ;
and the wilderness began to bud and blossom as the rose.
Shortly after Mr. Mills had completed his last tour through the Western
and Southern States, he took up his residence in the Middle States, and
568 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
within the bounds of the Presbyterian church. He resided, for the next
two years, at diifcrent periods, in Albany, New York, Philadelphia, and
^Yashi^gton ; and in each of these places, he endeavoured to enlist all the
influence he could in aid of hir^ favourite objects. It is certain that the pro-
ject of a national Bible Society had occupied his mind for some years before
it finally took effect ; and whether he may be said to have originated it or
not, he had probably as much to do as any other individual in preparing the
way for its establishment. The United Foreign Missionary Society also,
which brought togfither in the missionary enterprise the Presbyterian,
Reformed Dutch, and Associate Reformed, Churches, owed its existence, in
a great measure, to him. At one time, he meditated a tour into South
America, with a view to ascertain how far it would be practicable to intro-
duce Christian missions into that country ; and he even went so far as to
make overtures on the subject to the American Board of Foreign Missions;
but circumstances led him to postpone and finally to abandon it.
During the summer of 1816, which he passed in the city of New York,
in preparing to carry out some of his plans, his attention was directed par-
ticularly to the moral wants of the poor of the city, with a view to supply
them with Bibles and Tracts. Here he found himself in a most important
field, which he occupied with great diligence and success. His journal,
during that period, exhibits a course of the most untiring efforts to bring
the Gospel, in its sanctifying and comforting influence, in contact with the
degraded and outcast. Wherever he was, it was manifest that the spirit of
Christian benevolence was glowing in his bosom ; and the ruling passion of
his soul came out, as well in the visits which he made to the hovels of the
wretched, as in those great plans of benevolent effort, which had the world
for their field.
But the object to which perhaps Mr. Mills devoted more of his energies
than to any other, and to which he finally sacrificed his life, was the eleva-
tion of the coloured people in this country and the regeneration of the Conti-
nent of Africa. With the importance of this object and its powerful claims
upon American Christians, he became deeply impressed, during his Southern
and Western tours ; and there was no sacrifice that he was unwilling to
make, — that of life not excepted, — if this favourite object might thereby be
promoted. It was chiefly through his instrumentality that the Synod of
New York and New Jersey were induced, in 1816, to establish a school for
educating young men of colour to become preachers and teachers to the
African race. This institution was under the management of a Board of
Directors appointed annually by the Synod. Soon after the Board was
organized, Mr. Mills accepted an appointment as their agent in the Middle
States; and, at the same time, he had a commission from the Foreign Mis-
sion School in Connecticut. His agency in behalf of the African School
was generally successful, though the season was somewhat unpropitious for
making collections.
The American Colonization Society was formed at Washington on the 1st
of January, 1817. Mr. Mills, having been previously made acquainted with
the movements of certain benevolent individuals on the subject, repaired to
Washington to off"er himself as a coadjutor. He was present when the
Society was formed, and regarded it as marking an epoch in the annals of
human philanthropy. As it was proposed to establish a Colony on the
Western coast of Africa, it was thought expedient that some competent
SAMUEL JOHN MILLS, Jk. 569
person or persons sliould be commissioned to explore that country with a
view to select the most eligible place for a settlement ; and this important
commission was entrusted to Mr. Mills, who was allowed the privilege of
selecting another individual to be associated with him in the enterprise.
The individual whom he chose was the Rev. Ebenezer Burgess, then recently
a Professor in the University of Vermont, now (1849) pastor of a Congre-
gational church in Dedham. Mr. Burgess, after taking a little time to delib-
erate, consented to accompany him, and they accordingly embarked for Lon-
don, on the 16th of November, 1817, and ai-rived in England late in
December.
On their arrival in London, they were met by various distinguished indi-
viduals with every expression of kindness, and every disposition to facilitate
their enterprise. Among those who showed them special favour were Zach-
ary Macaulay, formerly Governor of Sierra Leone, Mr. Wilberforce, Lords
Bathurst and Gambier, and his Royal Highness, the Duke of Gloucester.
Having accomplished their purpose in England by enlisting a large amount
of influence in favour of their object, they embarked for Africa on the 2d
of February, 1818, and arrived on the Western coast after a pleasant voyage
of thirty days.
They remained in Africa, most industriously engaged in fulfilling the
duties of their mission, for more than two months. Mr. Mills, while he
manifested great interest in the scenes and objects around him, was yet
nevertheless growing rapidly in spirituality, insomuch that it became a sub-
ject of remark among the Christian friends with whom he associated. Hav-
ing accomplished the object of his mission in Africa, as far as was
practicable, he was now ready to return home; and, as there was no Ame-
rican ship in the vicinity, he took passage for London in the brig Success,
on the 22d of May, 1818. At the time he embarked, he was in good spirits,
and seemed delighted at the thought that the dangers of their mission were
past, and that they had the prospect of a speedy return to their native
land. His health, previous to his leaving the United States, had become
somewhat delicate, and serious apprehensions were entertained by his friends
that he was already the subject of an incipient consumption. While he was
in England, he suffered not a little from the humidity of the atmosphere ;
but while on the Atlantic and in Africa, his health seemed quite unimpaired.
During the early part of the voyage, he was occupied in transcribing his
loose papers, and arranging and embodying whatever had a bearing on the
object of his mission. Two weeks after he sailed from Sierra Leone, he
took a severe cold, and within less than two weeks more, — on the 16th of
May, 1818, — he was called to his final rest, being in the thirty-fifth year of
his age. When the news of his death reached his native country, it pro-
duced a deep and general sadness, and the friends of the American Coloni-
zation Society, and the friends of humanity in general, felt that an armour-
bearer had fallen.
FROM THE REV. EBENEZER BURGESS, D. D.
Dedham, Mass., October 1, 1849.
My dear Sir: My personal acquaintance with the Rev. Samuel John Mills, Jr.,
commenced at Andover, when I was a student in the Theological Seminary, on
his return from his first tour to the Western and Southern States. He was grave,
jjallow, and slow in conversation. Ilis public discourse in the Chapel related
Vol. II. 72
570 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
chiefly to his cfTorts to distribute the IJiblc among tlie French Catholic popuhi-
tion of Louisiana. He gave his attention to the few individuals who were devoted
to Foreign Missions. His stay was short. The next year, he returned from his
second tour, terminating again at New Orleans. He was still zealous in the Bible
enterprise, and glad to see the local Societies becoming auxiliary to the American
Bible Society, which had just been instituted. He dwelt much too on the state
and prospects of the descendants of Africans in this country, whether free or
enslaved. I saw him a few times only, and did not pretend to claim any inti-
macy of friendship.
Two years after, as I was leaving the Professorship in the University of Ver-
mont, he appealed to me to embark with him on a Mission of Inquiry'- to Western
Africa, in the service of the American Colonization Society, just then organized;
to which enterprise, he knew that my attention had been much turned. He had
formerlj' viewed with favour the project which had been contemplated by eminent
philanthropists in Virginia, such as Jefferson, Monroe, and manj- others, of find-
ing a location on the Western or Southern borders of the United States, where
to constitute the free people of colour a distinct community. The impolicy or
impracticability of such an enterprise is now most apparent, as no permanence
could be ensured to such a community, any more than to the Aboiiginal tribes.
I gave to Mr. Mills the precedence and the responsibility in this tour, as his supe-
rior age and experience justly demanded. We had no petty rivalry or diversity
of judgment. If our qualifications for such an enterprise were humble, our means
to prosecute it were surely limited. We had no ship or treasure at our command.
In London and Sierra Leone, we were treated with all the civilitjr to which the
philanthropic nature of our embassy was entitled.
Having collected the best intelligence in our power respecting the climate of
Western Africa, the power of the native tribes, the practicability of buying terri-
tory, the natural resources of the country for agriculture and commerce, and the
probable connivance of the European Governments, who have Colonies on the
coast, we set out on our return. Our progress on the voyage Avas slow, when,
six days out, leaning on the tafFerel in the evening twilight, and looking towards
the Continent behind, he said, "I have now transcribed the brief journal
of my visit to the coast of Africa, and turned my flice towards home. If it
please God that I may arrive safely, as I may reasonably hope, I think that I
shall take Obookiah and go to the Sandwich Islands, and there I shall end my
life." AVithin a week, saying little, taking medicine at his own discretion, sitting
at the table and walking on deck to the last day, and with no apparent suflfering.
he fell asleep Avith a most benignant .smile on his face. I closed his eyes and said,
My Brother. His remains were decently enveloped, and committed to an ocean
grave.
On my return to the United States, I inquired for Obookiah, and learned that
he was dead. B}'^ a comparison of dates, I found that he died some months
before his patron, Avhich intelligence no angel-bird had borne to the mortal ear.
What was his surprise on entering Heaven, to find Obookiah there, ready to con-
gratulate him on his safe arrival !
If we wish to do justice to Mr. Mills, we must not contemplate him as a stu-
dent, a writer, or a preacher, but as a philanthropist, wise in counsel, active,
zealous, self-sacrificing, devoted to good works. He did not claim to be a classical
scholar, a lucid writer, or a popular orator. While his figure was manly, his
apparel studiously neat, and his manners rather graceful, his voice was not clear,
nor his eye brilliant, nor his language fluent. Unlike his father, he had no wit.
The prominent traits of character which gave him such efficiency as a philanthro-
pist, were such as these: — He was sagacious to see what could be done and what
could not be done. He embarked in no theoretic or impracticable enterprises.
He had a more than ordinary knowledge of human nature. He did not attempt
SAMUEL JOHN MILLS, Je. 571
to do himself any work for whicli he was incompetent, but he had the wisdom
to solicit the able writer, the etfective preacher, the noble statesman, the liberal
merchant, to do each his appropriate work; and then he was willing that they
should enjo}" all the reputation of it, while he was himself unseen. lie was
sincere and zealous in his philanthropy. He expended the little patrimon}' of his
maternal grandfather. He did not consult his own wealth, ease, or honour. His
compassion to man was tender and large. His love to the Kingdom of Christ
was as a Hame of fire, enkindling his prayers, and warming him to action amid
the coldness of others. He wasted no time in despondence or complaint. He
was prudent in the use of his tongue. Whatever he might know, he did not speak
to the disadvantage of any one, unless there was strong reason for it. Officers
in the arni}^ and the navy, men of rank and wealth, writers, speakers, patriots,
and philanthropists, would be likely in their turn to receive some expression of
respect. He did not rail about the popular errors or vices, whether of nations
or individuals. Slavery and war, drunkenness and sensuality, were almost never
topics of remark. Intent on making the world better in the use of appropriate
means, he did not expend his energy in ridicule or in tears. He was no bigot.
He displayed the utmost liberality to persons of other denominations. He silently
communed with the Baptists, prayed with the Methodists, loved the Moravians,
praised the Friends. He could preach to a little group of slaves, and commend
their rude psalmody, or he could sufTer himself to be invested with a gown, as a
military Chaplain, to read the Church prayers at a pompous funeral. When
Messrs. Judsou and Rice became Baptists, he rejoiced that, like the dissension
between Paul and Barnabas, it was the means of establishing two missions
instead of one.
He lived at the peculiar time when our Xational Societies, in imitation of the
English, must have been instituted, Avith or without his eflficient aid. It would
be uttcrlv unsafe for any one to attempt to imitate his example, except in the wide
field of doing good in appropriate ways. No linguist, no mathematician, no elo-
quent speaker, "he had," said Dr. E. Porter, "a great heart." He was probably
disai>pointed that he was not approved and sent out as a missionary with his
best friends. Hall and Newell. He once alluded to it, but said that it was now
the height of his ambition to be the pastor of any little church in the outskirts
of our country, that he might feed a few of the sheep and the lambs of Christ's
flock. Few men who were so moderately appreciated in life, have enjoyed a
reputation so just and liberal, soon after their death. He was great in goodness,
and is entitled to everlasting remembrance.
On a Sabbath at sea, he asked me to give him some confidential statement of
my Christian experience. After which, he burst into tears, and said that it was
not in a time of revival, but in a dark day, that he came into the Church, and
that he had never enjoyed the high hopes and consolations of many Christians.
While in London, the Committee of the British and Foreign Bible Society
held their usual monthly meeting, and Mr. Mills was invited to be present. By
request, he stated that he had expended some labour in that department of char-
ity, and particularly that he crossed the Mississippi at the hazard of his life,
soon after the battle of New Orleans, to give Bibles to the English soldiers in the
hospitals, — and that, at a subsecpient visit, he was assured that they had wrapped
up their Bibles carefully, Mhen they went away. The eminent Wilberforce
made a tender reply, saying that they sat on cushioned scats to talk about the
distribution of the Bible, wliile others were bearing the burden and heat of the
day in this woi-k.
One remark more. His prayers were short, deeply reverent, and impassioned.
One peculiar form of Avords \va.s this: " We praise thee that we belong to a race
of beings, who Mere made by Jesus' Christ, and for Jesus Christ, and who have
been redeemed by his blood."
572 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
If he were now alive, to see Liberia an independent republic, — a radiant point
of civilization and C-'hristianity to Western Africa, and the Pagan Sandwich
Islanders, a Christian people, with self-supporting and missionary churches, he
would probaljly say, "Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine
eyes have seen thy salvation." Such arc a few of my reminiscences of one, who
is no longer susceptible to human censure or praise. May his mantle fall to
me and others.
I am, Reverend and dear Sir,
Your fellow labourer,
E. BURGESS.
JUSTIN EDWARDS, D. D.*
1812—1853.
Justin Edwards was born in Westhampton, Mass., April 25, 1787.
He was the second son of Justin and Elizabeth (Clark) Edwards, and was
a descendant of Alexander Edwards, who came from Wales in 1640, settled
in Springfield, Mass., and a few years after removed to Northampton, where
he died in 1690. The mother of the subject of this notice was distinguished
for her exemplary Christian character, though she was removed by death
when this son was only five years old. He spent his early years, partly in
labouring on his father's farm, and partly at a district school ; and his early
intellectual and moral developments were considered as of an unusually
promising character. He dated his conversion to the year 1805, and to the
circumstance of his witnessing the happy death of a Mrs. Parsons, memora-
ble as having been the little girl, (PhoeiDe Bartlett,) of whose hopeful
oonversion at the age of five years, Jonathan Edwards has left a highly
interesting account. He made a public profession of relioion in April,
1806.
About this time he commenced the study of Latin under the Rev. Enoch
Hale,t minister of the parish in which his father resided. He completed his
course preparatory to entering College in about eighteen months, and was
admitted into the Sophomore class of Williams College in October, 1807.
As he was straitened in regard to pecuniary resources, he was occupied,
during his winter vacation, in two successive years, in teaching a school —
the first year in Easthaiiipton, the second in Holliston ; and his labours in
this capacity were eminently acceptable and useful. He was graduated in
September, 1810, on which occasion he delivered the Valedictory Oration,
the subject of which was " the signs of the times."
After his graduation, he engaged for a few months in teachina; a school in
Athens, N. Y.; and in March, 1811, joined the Theological Seminary at
Andover. Here he pursued his studies with great ardour, and very soon
came to be regarded as a young man of rare intellectual endowments and
* Memoir by Dr. Ilalloek.
t Enoch Hale was born in Coventry Conn., in 1754; was graduated at Yale College in 1773;
was ordained pastor of the chureli in Westhampton, Mass., September 29, 1779; and died
January 14, 1837, aged eighty-three. He published a Fast Sermon in 1804. He was a brother
of the celebrated Captain Nathan Hale, one of the heroes and martvrs of the Revolution.
i
i
JUSTIN EDWARDS. 573
of sterling Christian worth. The South parish in Andover having been,
for sonic time, destitute of a pastor, the attention of some of the more
prominent members was directed towards Mr. Edwards as a suitable person
to fill the vacant pulpit ; and at length a formal proposal was made to him
that he should leave the Seminary, though he was then in the midst of his
theological course, and assume the pastorship of the church. He at first
discouraged the movement, on the ground that it would be unjust to himself,
as well as to the people among whom his lot might be cast, that lie should
enter the ministry without more mature preparation ; but they finally so far
overcame his scruples, that he accepted their call, and was ordained pastor
of the church on the 2d of December, 1812. The charge to which he was
now introduced was a very arduous one, embracing, as it did, not far from
two thousand souls, spread over a territory about eight miles by four in
extent, with no other church organization within its bounds ; to say nothing
of the fact that, amotig his stated hearers, were not only the students, but the
Professors, of the Theological Seminary.
On the 17th of September, 1817, he was married to Lydia, daughter of
Asa Bigelow of Colchester, Conn., who, till the close of his life, was a
vigorous and efiicient auxiliary to him in the various departments in which
he laboured.
In September, 1820, Mr. Edwards was chosen a member of the Board of
Trustees of the Theological Seminary at Andover. From 1817 he had been
a member of the Executive Committee of the New England Tract Society,
and in 1821 was elected Corresponding Secretary, by which the labour and
responsibility of superintending the press, and directly managing its concerns,
were officially devolved on him.
Early in the year 1825, after much consultation with many judicious and
excellent men, he united with the Rev. Dr. Woods and fourteen others, —
ministers and laymen, in forming, in Boston, " the American Society for the
promotion of Temperance." In 1826, he was elected a Director of the
American Home Missionary Society, and also a member of the American
Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions. The same year he received
a call from the Park Street church, Boston, to become their pastor ; but,
after duly considering it in its various bearings, he felt constrained to return
to it a negative answer.
In July, 1827, he was one of several prominent clergymen from the New
England States and New York, who met at Lebanon Springs to consider
and discuss the principles and measures proper to be observed and adopted
in connection with revivals of religion. This convention was occasioned by
a growing departure from the more simple modes of procedure which had
characterized the revivals of preceding years, and an approximation, as it
was thought, to the course which was adopted by certain zealous leaders in
the revival that took place about 1740. As the result of their deliberations,
a series of propositions was drawn up by Dr. Edwards, and unanimously
adopted, expressing the utmost confidence in the commonly received doctrine
of the church on the subject of revivals, and a deep sense of the importance
of preserving them free from all spurious and fanatical admixtures. In
September of this year, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of
Divinity from Yale College.
Dr. Edwards had now, for nearly fifteen years, been an eminently devoted
and successful pastor, and had shown himself fertile in expedients for bring-
574 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ing the Grospcl in contact with the minds and hearts of all classes of his
people. During this period, he had admitted to the church two hundred
and thirty-nine on a profession of their faith ; and this, not as the fruit of
any one very extensive revival, but rather as the result of a Divine influence
silently dispensed in connection with the instrumentalities statedly employed.
But the time had now come, when the bond that united him to his people
must be sundered. The prevailing intemperance of the country was a
subject which had long rested heavily upon his heart ; and the American
Temperance Society had been formed, in a great degree, through his influ-
ence. The eyes of many of his brethren and of the community at large
were directed to him as the most suitable person to take the superintend-
ence and conduct of this Society; and he accordingly requested a dismission
from his pastoral charge with a view to labour in this cause for three months,
and then to be governed in his subsequent movements by what might appear
to be the indications of Providence. The day before the meeting of the
church to consider his request, he received a call from the church which had
then just been formed in Salem Street, Boston, to become their pastor ;
and he presented this to be acted upon in connection with his other commu-
nication. The result was that the church and congregation, perceiving that
his own mind was made up in respect to the course of duty, consented to the
dissolution of the pastoral relation ; and, accordingly, it was dissolved on the
1st of October, 1827.
He now entered immediately on the agency he had accepted for the
xYmerican Temperance Society. But the call from Boston, owing to peculiar
circumstances, pressed heavily upon his mind, and after it had been in his
hands some weeks, he convened a council of brethren in whom he had confi-
dence, and referred the question of duty to them, expressing his purpose to
be governed by their judgment, provided it should be unanimous. It turned
out that the council were unanimously in favour of his accepting it ; and
after further delay, and receiving proposals to occupy several other important
places, all of which he negatived, he gave an afiirraative answer to the call
from the Salem Street church, and was installed January 1, 1828.
Dr. Edwards entered upon his new field of labour with great zeal and
interest, and with most promising prospects of usefulness; but his health,
which had suffered somewhat previous to his leaving Andover, very soon
became so much impaired as to compel him to intermit his labours, with a
somewhat dubious prospect of being able permanently to resume them. He,
however, continuedMiis connection with his people until the summer of the
next year, (1820,) when, owing to his continued indisposition and the con-
viction which he had, that a more active habit was essential to the preservation
of his life, he made a formal application for a dismission from his pastoral
charge. AVith this request the church felt it their duty to comply ; and
accordingly his pastoral relation was again dissolved on the 20th of August,
1829.
Being now again at liberty, and regarding the claims of the Temperance
Society which he had left for the charge in Boston j as paramount to any
thing else that solicited his attention, he resumed his labours in that depart-
ment of benevolence, and accomplished a work which of itself would have
shed an unfading lustre around his name. About this time, he was invited
to a Professorship in a New England College ; received overtures for the
Professorship of Sacred Rhetoric in the Theological Seminary at Auburn ;
JUSTIN EDWARDS. 575
and was appointed agent of the General Union, for promoting the observance
of the Christian Sabhath.
Dr. Edwards continued his labours in aid of the Temperance reformation
from 1880 to 1836; and, during this time, not only travelled extensively in
various parts of the country, waking up the public mind to the importance
of the subject by his powerful addresses and discourses, and doing much by
his more private eflForts to harmonize and concentrate public action, but
produced a series of papers known as " Permanent Temperance Documents,"
which can never lose their interest or their power, so long as the cause they
are designed to aid has not achieved a complete triumph.
In February, 1836, Dr. Edwards was chosen Professor of Theology in
the Seminary then recently organized in the city of New York ; and, in
April following, he was elected President of the Theological Seminary at
Andover. He accepted the latter appointment, and was inaugurated on the
7th of September following. As there was no pecuniary provision made
for continuing this office beyond five years, it expired at the end of that
time, and left Dr. Edwards at liberty to enter on some other field of labour.
His connection with the Seminary ceased on the 19th of April, 1842.
In June following, the Executive Committee of the American Temperance
Society reappointed him to the service which he left, when he became Presi-
dent of the Andover Seminary ; with an understanding that he should com-
bine with it, or even relinquish it for, labours in behalf of the Sabbath, or
any other kindred object, which he might consider as claiming his attention.
He accepted the appointment, and, after having continued his agency for
nearly a year, — during which he may be said to have originated the great
effort which was subsequently made for the sanctification of the Sabbath, —
the American and Foreign Sabbath Union was organized in Boston, and he
became its Secretary. In this capaeity he continued most laboriously
engaged from 1842 till 1849. He now performed substantially the same
work in aid of the observance of the Sabbath, that he had previously done
for the cause of Temperance, — not only travelling extensively, and address-
ing public assemblies in every part of the country, and placing himself in
direct contact with many of the most powerful and influential minds, but
producing another set of "Permanent Documents," which form perhaps the
ablest and most condensed plea for the Sabbath, which the language
furnishes.
The last four years of Dr. Edwards' life were spent chiefly in writing a
condensed Commentary on the Scriptures, by request of the American
Tract Society. He had gone through with the New Testament, and pro-
ceeded with the Old as far as the fiftieth Psalm, when death put an end to
his labours. The result of this effort is now before the public, and is cre-
ditable alike to the author's head and heart. In April, 1852, owing, as was
supposed, to long continued and intense mental excitement, he was prostrated
by a fever, which obliged him entirely to suspend his labours for a consider-
able time, and, when he resumed them, it was in great feebleness, and only
for a brief period. Early in June, 1853, he set out, in company with his
youngest daughter, on a journey to the South, intending to try the efficacy
of the Virginia Springs. After spending some time with his friend, Gene-
ral Cocke, and stopping a few days at the llockbridgo Spring, he proceeded
to the Biilh Alum Springs, where he arrived on the loth of Jul}'. On the
night of his arrival, he was taken suddenly and severely ill, and after Ian-
576 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
guishing between nine and ten days, with no friend near him except his
daughter, died in perfect tranquillity on Saturday morning, July 24th. His
remains were brought back to Andover for burial, where his funeral was
attended on the 2d of August.
The following is a list of Dr. Edwards' publications: — A Sermon at the
installation of the Rev. Thaddeus Pomeroy, Gorham, Me., 1822. A Ser-
mon entitled "Doing a great work," 1823. An Address before the Porter
llhetorical Society in the Theological Seminary at Andover, 1824. A Ser-
mon at the installation of the Kev. Frederick Freeman at Plymouth, Mass.,
1824. A Sermon before the Penitent Females' Refuge Society, Boston,
1825. A Sermon on Bible Classes, 1826. A Sermon on the way to be
saved, 1826. An Address at the laying of the corner-stone of the new
meeting-house in Andover, 1826. A Sermon on the Inspiration of the
Scriptures, 1827. A Sermon entitled "The great change," 1827. A
Sermon on Preparation for Eternity, 1829. A Sermon on the unction from
the Holy One, 1830. A Letter to the friends of Temperance in Massa-
chusetts, 1836. A Sermon before the American Board of Commissioners
for Foreign Missions, 1841.
Of the Tracts published by the American Tract Society, he is the author
of the following : — No. 167, Well conditioned farm ; (on Temperance ;) No.
177, Joy in Heaven over one Sinner that repenteth; No. 179, The way to
be saved; No. 125, On the traffic in ardent spirits; No. 582, The unction
from the Holy One.
To these may be added the Permanent Temperance Documents, — the
main principles of which are presented in his Temperance Manual ; and
the Permanent Sabbath Documents, five of which are in his Sabbath
Manual, together with his Commentaries on a considerable portion of the
Sacred Scriptures, — all of which have been already referred to.
FROM THE REV. AARON WARNER,
PROFESSOR IN AMHERST COLLEGE.
Amherst, March 25, 1856.
My dear Sir: It was my happiness to know Dr. Edwards from early life, his
father's family and ours being often visiters at each others' houses. I recollect
little of him, however, in these days of childish history, except that he seemed
even then tinged with the gravity and soberness which were marked features in
his after life. He was in the families of my father and brothers, during seasons
of ill health, in the earl}^ part of his ministerial life at Andover; it was here that
his character as a man and a Christian was developed in a manner which made
him a most welcome guest. " We were always glad to see him," said one wlio
had no special sympathy with his religious opinions.
While at Andover, I was a resident in his family for nearly a year, and at
other times a familiar and frequent visitant; and had a full opportunity to know
him intimately amid scenes where character finds no disguise deep enough to
conceal its realitj".
In personal appearance Dr. Edwards was more than ordinarily impressive; in
size, though not large, he was muscular, erect, and tall, dignified and stately;
and in his general manner and bearing, was such as naturally to attract the
attention of others to himself. Ilis forehead was high and prominent; his lips
more than usualh" compressed; his small dark eyes deepl}^ set in his head, over-
hung by full and heavy eyebrows, in public debate, and in animated private con-
versation, often gleamed with a keenness of intelligence that seemed to reach into
JUSTIN EDWARDS. 577
your most hidden purposes; and those penetrating glances were softened bj^ the
love that was still visible in every look, and b}' the gentleness that sat abidingly
on hi.s features. What might otherwise have seemed stern, distant, and repul-
sive, was relieved by a remarkable benignity of countenance and manner, that
spoke greatness and goodness happily commingled.
His outward expression was a true index of himself, in some of the leading
traits of his character. Occupied with the events of a Providence that he
beheved ever around him, and seeking to solve some of the deep problems of
practical life, for human well-being, his countenance, though calm and mild, was
ever sedate, thoughtful; and it were not strange if some might mistake his devout
and serious air for indifference to passing events. In the currency of ordinary
social life, he might be less dexterous and flippant in words of welcome than
some; but if he lacked in the easy courtesies and outward grace of etiquette,
it resulted from the circumstances of his life and from the intrinsic nature and
character of his own spirit. As in nature the lofty mountain, — while it sheds
down its gentle streams and dews on the plain below, but still stands higli up,
often dark and frowning in its sublimity, — cannot pliantly bend and shake hands
with all the littlenesses at its base; so at times, in character, there is that which
seems distant and inaccessible, fitted rather to excite our reverence and awe,
than to allure and win us to an easy and' familiar fellowship. There might be,
to one slightly acquainted, something of this in the manner of Dr. Edwards; —
a stateliness in bearing and look, that never forsook him in public debate, or in
the social converse of the family; yet, with this was mingled a read}' courteous-
ness that won the confidence and respect of all who had opportunity to know
him. His face, lighted with a quiet smile of Christian kindness, was an affec-
tionate welcome to his home and to his loving and generous heart.
In his intellectual character, he was among the prominent men of his time.
In mathematical and classical study he had no superior in his class in College.
He had a clear, comprehensive intellect, which more readily perceived the rela-
tions and bearings of an intricate debate than most, and often would he disentangle
the subject from what was irrelevant, and state it with a precision and clearness
that at once revealed the true position of the topic in dispute, and made further
discussion out of place. Inductive in his tendency, he gathered up from his
particulars great truths and principles, that had been but dimly perceived by
others, and stated them with such simplicity and calmness, that the integrity
and impartiality of manner deepened and confirmed the logic that convinced the
listener. He possessed the power of strict analysis, and did, at times, in social
conversation with a few friends, show himself apt in tracing things to their ulti-
mate principles; but his mind more naturally busied itself with the solutions of
the practical. His range of intellect was eminently here; he had no pride to
gratify in the metaphysical or the abstruse; no life to waste in speculations. His
mental tendencies are well illustrated in a sermon preached on the " way to be
.saved" — no metaphysical distinctions, no doctrinal diflficulties, no solution of*
objections; but it comes, all practical, like the voice of God to Lot, " Up, out of
this city !" and the way to be saved is as plain as that from Sodom to Zoar.
While he possessed mental power that might have made him a keen dialecti-
cian, an eminent philosopher, his reflections were thrown on to another field.
He felt with Bishop Butler, that " our province is virtue and religion, life and
manners; the science of improving the temper, and making the heart better;"
and that " he who should find out one rule to assist us in this work, would
deserve infinitely better ot mankind than all the improvers of other knowledge
put together;" and his problems of practical life will live to embalm his memory
for ages to come.
Dr. Edwards, as a preacher, was in manner deeply serious and impressive.
He often spoke from a mere outline, and not seldom did he excite and strongly
Vol. It. 73
578 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
move the hearts of his hearers. Ilis preaching, like all he did, was practical
beyond that of any one 1 have ever known. His order of arrangement and illus-
tration was natural and obvious; his style simple and level to the capacity of
the great mass of his audience, llis plain statements of truths, enforced by a
solemn and commanding manner, by a low and uncommonly heavy intonation,
had at times a power in them that few could resist. I remember to have heard
him once, in one of his unwritten discourses, while a pastor at Andover. He
was portraying the perils incident to youth, and the many ways in which they
were often allured from the paths of a virtuous life to their ruin, lie became
animated by his theme, and turning toward his hearers on the left, with his long
arm extended, he uttered himself thus: " I saw a youth in the morning of life,
ardent and hopeful; the confidence of his father, the pride of his mother. He
turned aside from the highway of duty; I marked him gay and thoughtless,
walking along the brink of an awful precipice. I looked, — and lo! he was gone!"
Then turning quite round in his pulpit, he exclaimed in his own deep and pro-
longed intonation, — " Wliere is he ? Let us pray." The impression on my own
mind was such as I shall never forget. There was evident in his preaching sucli
deep conviction of tlie importance of the truths he uttered, such forgetfulness of
himself, such sincerity and earnestness, that his words seemed to fall with more
than wonted power on your heart. You felt that what he said demanded your
consideration. Without ornament in style, or any striking peculiarity or origi-
nality in thought; — witli no grace in gesture or manner, he was a preacher that
held his hearers in strict attention, for he spoke in the kindness of his own full
Christian heart, as one having authority. Such was he in the early stage of his
ministry; his after life was more a life of business, and I am inclined to think
that the perplexities and cares attendant on such a course, served rather to
diminish than increase his power as a pulpit orator.
Ilis moral and religious character was of a high order. His practical life, in
originating and carrying forward some of the great schemes of Christian benevo-
lence, that bless the world, distinctly illustrate this. But there were, in his
own daily life, the distinct traces of a living piety : gentleness, humility, and an
intimate converse with God were written on all that he said and did. Few men
have passed through life and left a brighter example of what a Christian minister
should be. In public, in private; at home, and abroad, the testimony to the
morality and piety of Dr. Edwards is the same. In scenes of trial, when
the calmness and quiet of most men forsook them, he exhibited the same steady,
unvarying, dignified Christian simplicity. He never lost his self-control, but
sustained himself unmoved and placid in the most trying exigencies of life. I
shall not soon forget the admiration with which one of his colleagues spoke of him ,
when, in conformity with his own views of duty, he relinquished an important
public trust. " It was a delicate matter to express our opinions in relation to
his relinqui.shment of the trust, and I felt great misgivings in stating to him our
difBculties." " And how," said one, " did he receive it ? " " Receive it ? with
the most unruffled calmness." " Did he leave his charge quietly ? " " Quietly!
He left his position with the grace and dignity of an angel : I thought I knew
Dr. Edwards. Not one word of complaint! 1 had not known the depth ol his
religious character till now." Such, in few words, was the outline drawn of him
by one who knew him intimately in public and private life. There was in his
Christian deportment a beauty none could rightly delineate, who had marked him
only in his public and business movements; and even to those who knew him in
the domestic and foraily relations, as well as in his wider sphere of action, the
picture in its perfectness cannot be drawn. The family circle is the sacred and
soft retreat of all that is most lovely in character; yet beyond a full and exact
delineation. The thousand nameless but beautiful items that make up its history,
■when rightly passed, are like the soft and airy drapery that hangs around the
JUSTIN EDWARDS. 579
declining footsteps of an autumnal day. We feel it all; it pervades our hearts,
but no skill can lift out its unutterable loveliness in any set forms of phraseology.
Such was Dr. Edwards; quietly and evenly gliding on his way like nature, — in
stricter accordance than most with the laws of his being, to the great realities of
the future. Very sincerely yours,
A. WARNER.
FROM THE REV. AMOS BLANCHARD, D. D.
Lowell, Mass., June 25, 185(5.
My dear Sir: My acquaintance with Dr. Edwards began with his entering the
ministry, and continued till his death. My honoured father having been a
deacon of his church, his nearest neighbour in one direction, and his confidential
friend; I knew him, as he appeared in every relation of life, and in e\-ery variety
of pastoral duty. I heard all of his sermons and addresses during his pastorate at
Andover which have been published. Through his subsequent life, he frequently
visited in my family and preached in my pulpit. It was my privilege also to
share his hospitalities, and to meet him on occasions so diversified as to bring to
view nearly every phase of his mind and character.
Greatness, as applied to men, hardly admits of definition, real or verbal. Its
elements differ widely in men, all of whom make upon us the impression described
by the word. It is often felt when it most completely defies analj^sis. Some
men are indivisible; the physical, mental, and moral so coalescing that they
cannot be separated; all conspiring to make what a British critic describes Rev
Sydney Smith to have been, " one whole individual person, lior.est and genuine
in all his appearances, and entirely transcending, as a man, in natural force and
influence, any thing that can be said of him, in any special character."
To this class Dr. Edwards belonged. His body, heart, and intellect combined
to make him, as a man, something far beyond what he was simply as an author
or preacher. All who came near him felt his power, w'hen most at a loss to
detect its hiding places, and even when most awake tc his want of its more com-
mon constituents and helps. lie owed nothing to courtly ease or polish of
manners, or to the mental graces of elegant scholarship. Of rhetoric, in the
exact sense of the term, he had none. The mention of belles lettres, in connection
with his name, provokes a smile at the incongruity of the ideas. A learned
allusion, a simile or trope beyond those of the sacred writers, or a poetical quota-
tion, except from Watts or Cowper, can scarcely be found in all that he ever
spake or wrote. Few men are more slenderly endowed with genius, in the
sense of inventive or imaginative power. Its fire never plays over his pages. It
never lent its aid, as in Dr. Payson, to kindle his feelings to extatic devotion.
All his printed letters and discourses have, like Whitefield's, a striking air of
mediocrity. To the rules of oratory, as an art, he seemed to be profoundly a
stranger. Yet he often achieved the best results of oratory, in preaching, in
deliberative assemblies, and on anniversary platforms. Imitation of him on any
of the.se occasions by any person could result only in making himself ridiculous.
Yet Dr. E. was often truly eloquent. He could practise none of the minor graces
of conversation, which qualify one to shine in the general intercourse of society;
owing perhaps, in part, as in Dr. Chalmers, to the massive character of his
mental movements. He will be commemorated in no traditional anecdotes of
his playful humour, smart repartees, or electric w.it. Still, he was marked with
peculiar attributes of person and manner, of thought and feeling, such as made
him, with little help from art, not to say, in violation of most of its rules, one
of the great lights of the New England pulpit.
Dr. Edwards was ordained over the South Parish Church in Andover, at the
age of twenty-five, and after but six years of preparatory study, only thirteen
580 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
mouths of which were devoted to Theology. The last six of the fifteen years
of his ministry there, were the culminating period of his pulpit ahihty. He
had then become a recognised force; a living power felt by men, women, and
children, throughout that extended jKirish. With an undisputed ascendancy
among his own people, he was known far and near as a powerful preacher and
a man of eminent practical wisdom. Ilis occasional services were sought in
places near and remote : and he was invited permanently to occupy stations of
the gravest responsibility. Yet even then he had neither attractiveness nor
popularity. He had, however, what is so much better, influence; an influence
growing out ot his personal qualities, and accumulating with every year of his
pastoral life.
His face and figure, as shown in the frontispiece of the excellent Memoir of
him latel}' published, will suggest to those who never saw him, the outlines of
his spiritual portraiture. The harmony between the inward and the outward
man was so marvellous as to be almost amusing. It gave a beauty of its own
to his rugged simplicity of thought and diction, though in almost any other, it
would have been felt as a deformity. He was, too, always the same. No var}'-
ing moods operated, like shifting postures in the sitter before the sun-graven
plate, to blur the impression. Always himself, and himself only, he had not
a touch of quaintness or of eccentricity. His stiff and formal mannerism was
untainted with aff'ectation. Every thing which he did or said bore the stamp of
his own individuality, but no one ever called him odd. He could not have been
otherwise than stately even to the verge of dignity's grimace. A bearing,
which would strike a stranger as ultra professional, was with him the only
natural one. His native mould and make were precisely what in most men
would be a purely technical character. He was born a Divine. He lacked
elasticity, and the power of operating upon a wide range of susceptibilities.
He had none of the fascination, which, in many persons, binds to themselves
all on whom their spell is laid, without respect to their mental or moral
worth.
Intellectually, his strength lay, where it is often found to lie, in those great
men, who seem to have no other assignable point of superiority, in clearness,
grasp, and compass of view. As Whateley says of Aristotle, his mind was at
once telescopic and microscopic. He saw at a glance the relations of all parts
of a subject to each other, and of the whole to other subjects. He intuitively
separated the essential from the accidental. He discovered the line of action
appropriate to each particular juncture, and the demands of a true expediency,
as the same with those of right and duty in given circumstances. He was full
of the "wisdom and prudence," in their human measure and manner, which
the Apostle declares to have belonged to God's redeeming love. These qualities
too were, in Dr. E., as in God Himself, vital forces, salient springs of sagacious
and comprehensive plans well wrought out. His career as a pastor was
marked by these attributes thus operating. They qualified him to project and
execute charitable and reformatory movements. They clothed him with
administrative ability. No civilian ever excelled him in presiding at the
council-board, in an executive committee, or a deliberative assembly. Busi-
ness, under his direction, never lagged, never hurried, never became confused.
His timely hints and modest inquiries were frequently decisive. Such mental
qualities could not but make themselves felt by common minds and on common
occasions. But with the multitude, his influence was mainly that of manifest
rectitude; of embodied duty to God and man. If others have better shown
" virtue in hei shape how lovely," it was his mission to make men feel " how
awful goodness is." His gravity, however, had no tinge of austerity or gloom.
His reserve, which had it been studied, would inevitably have repelled, was
seen to be essential to his identity, and to be allied with the most genial affa-
JUSTIN EDWARDS. 5gl
bility of soul. He was not unsocial in his silence. It, therefore, only won
confidence. It acted, in alliance with a native modesty and with the humility
wrought by Divine grace, to prevent his speaking of himself, or seeming to
think of himself. The remark u;ade of Washington, that no one would have
suspected from any thing said by himself that his career had been, in any res-
pect, unusual, is strictly true of Dr. Edwards. He never complained of his
trials; he never reported his successes. His mind and heart appeared to be so
filled with Divine truth, and with the claims and wants of his fellow men, as
to leave no room for any other contemplation of himself, than was essential to
the best performance of duty. Ilis caution was sometimes excessive. It kept
him from committing himself when most men would have thought themselves
bound to speak. Yet it was, in no degree, the offspring of fear. He knew
nothing of fear in any form, but the fear of God. Least of all did it ever sink
into cunnmg. His movements were explicit. What he could not efi^ect in this
way he left uuattempted. Fearless in duty, he was not exceeded in circum-
spection by the most timid and time-serving. His greatness consisted largely in
the perfect balance of these antagonist forces. He was an admirable illustra-
tion of tranquil energy, resulting from cool judgment united with unremitting
earnestness. Never impetuous or rash, he was always working with a thought-
ful momentum, which bore others along without their perceiving his agency.
" Light and Love," was his favourite motto. And these powers exerted them-
selves in all his plans and movements, so as to commend them and him to per-
sons of all varieties of temperament and training, of all professions and call-
ings, and all grades of intellectual strength and culture.
If other men have equalled him in these qualities, he stood nearly alone in one
grand particular, — the unconscious revelation of them all, whenever he addressed
an audience. This was, beyond all others, his striking peculiarity, and the tower
of his strength. He was not now the man and then the preacher: but as he
preached, without intending it, with a kind of oracular authority in his common
conversation, so his whole character, as a man, came out in his public preaching.
This is so far true of all ministers as to make the pulpit, bej'ond any other place,
to be, like the Divine Word which it proclaims, a revealer of the thoughts and
intents of the heart. Discerning hearers will seldom fail to feel any ser'ous
defects in the preacher's personal character, however studiously it may be, for
the time, concealed. But to few is it given to reveal instantaneously their vari-
ous excellencies, especially when they are of so profound an order. Most good
men require to have been observed for months and years, in order that their
character may enforce their sermons. Dr. E.'s character encompassed him
wherever he was, and attracted notice almost before the man himself was
observed. This self-revealing power, one of the rarest of endowments in the
degree to which it belonged to him, must be viewed as a special gift from Him
who distributeth to every man severally as He will. No self-conscious discipline
or purpose can acquire it, further than as it is incidental to abounding spiritual
vitality. Yet many have probably equalled Dr. E. in all his excellencies, with-
out his power of making them all to be intuitively perceived in the operation of
each. That sharp analyst, John Foster, says of Sir Thomas More, that he
"exerted and almost involuntarily, not in succession and alternation, but at one
and the same time, the wit, the philosopher, and the Christian." A like happy
complexity in simultaneous action of mental and moral forces, such as, in the
aggregate, are better represented by Sir Matthew Hale, belonged to Dr. E. His
occasional hearers will testifjr to the truth of this representation, whether they
ever framed it or not by reflecting on their own impressions. They felt the influ-
ence of exalted character, instantaneously disclosed. Strangers knew themselves
to be listening to a wise, modest, bold, ardent, and simple-hearted, yet far-sighted
and sagacious man: full of tact in shunning needless collisions, yet ready joy-
582 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
fully to embrace the stake, rather than compromise, in an iota, his duty to God.
Whatever he said, and even in his silence, these traits thrust themselves into
view, and exerted a power in conversation and in preaching altogether beyond
any thing to be found in his words or thoughts.
The foremost feature of his sermons and addresses was their Biblical cast.
They were plain to the extreme of being thin, bare, and dry, except as relieved
by scriptural quotations and pertinent facts. His manner was that of serious,
earnest conversation, and had the effect of isolating his hearers and of making
them feel themselves to be individually talked witli on the subject in hand.
They felt the power of the man through whom, rather than from whom, the
words appeared to come. For so simple, so biblical, so self-recommending was
all he said, and so in keeping with his commanding presence, his majestic though
ungraceful mien, and lieavy voice, as to appear like the utterances of a stern old
prophet baptized into the tenderness of the Apostle John. The inspired words
seemed "fitted on his lips." He thought in them more truly than overdid
Jerome or TertuUian. His constant use of them made it impossible for his own
phraseology, how plain or homelj^ soever, to be, in the least degree or in a single
instance, coarse or low. He gave even to casual observers the impression of his
being a kind of speaking and walking Bible. He seemed not so much to have
studied it, as it to have posses.sed him, body, soul, and spirit. Its tritest passa-
ges had to him apparently the freshness of a new revelation, because his expe-
rience of their power seemed ever new. This interest communicated itself by a
sacred sympathy to his hearers. He constantly illustrated his own idea of
sacred eloquence, as consisting in " declaring all the truths which God has
revealed, in the connections in which He reveals them; and in declaring them
with those feelings which these truths, clearly apprehended, cordially embraced,
and faithfully obeyed, will inspire." His prayers were sometimes composed
almost wholly of inspired passages applied with striking felicity to the instant
occasion. No man ever better merited the praise of being a "living ritual."
He made no pretension to critical lore. He struck intuitively into the heart of a
passage and carried conviction to every hearer that his exposition was indeed the
mind of the Spirit. His Bible-classes and expository lectures were regarded by
Professors and Students in Theology as models in their kind. His countenance
lighted up, in speaking, with a strange mixture of solemnity and cheerfulness, of
authority and inviting tenderness. His eye frequently filled, and his voice,
heavy as the sub-bass of an organ, though not as musical, trembled with an
earnestness known by all to be real. He never assumed a character for the
occasion. He spoke right on like a man intent upon his work, and wholly obli-
vious of himself. Without any thing positive, dogmatic, or dictatorial, he spoke
with authority. His sayings were heard as law; i. e. laid, settled in a way
never to be moved. They were felt to be almost like inspiration itself, an end
of controversy.
All Dr. E.'s habits of mind were intensely practical; or, as the more learned
phrase would be, objective. His ability for profound speculation was hardly sur-
passed among his contemporaries, as those are aware who knew him in the exer-
cises of his clerical Association. He could analyse and discriminate acutely on
the most abstruse points of metaphysical science. Yet the whole bent of his soul
was towards the realization of abstract truth in life and character. His convic-
tions had a sort of creative power. From a kind of intrinsic necessity, they
wrought themselves into sensible forms. Accordingly, his piefi/ was eminently
practical. He had the air of a man who knew not how to speak or act, or how
to refrain from speaking and acting otherwi.se than in imitation of the Divine Man.
No hasty or petulant speech, no disparaging word about others, no expression, by
look or manners, of any unchristian temper, was ever, as I believe, laid
to his charge. His "soul was like a star," not only as "dweUing apart" from
JUSTIN EDWARDS.
583
all the petty egotism and other kindred foibles of many great and excellent men,
but as shining for others' benefit and shedding down upon all who saw him the
Saviour's reflected brightness. Altering and adapting an old comparison, you
would almost as soon expect to see the sun diverted from his course by the fishes,
scorpions, and lions of the zodiac, as to see him swerve from his integrity under
any earthly temptation.
The same practical cast of mind appeared in the type of his Theology. His
Calvinism was never doubted: though the biblical, with him, took precedence of
the scholastic, — the evangelical, of the technically orthodox. Few did more true
yeoman service in the Unitarian controversy. Yet he scarcely ever preached a
strictly controversial sermon; and never on the points which divide the different
schools of orthodoxy. He was intent upon making men feel that God is dealing
with them in providence and grace, that Christ and the Holy Spirit are working
for their salvation, and that the only hindrance to it is their chosen and cherished
adherence to sin. He soughi, therefore, to lead them to stop sinning, and that
in the quickest possible way. He insisted on their instantly forsaking all known
wrong doing, and entering upon every known duty for the sake of glorifying God
and doing good, as the essence of repentance. To do this, relying on Jesus Christ
for pardon, and on the Holy Spirit for strength, and guidance, and all else that is
needed in order to doing this, and to being accepted of God in doing it, — this, in
his view, was saving faith. It was with him an axiom, that right feeling comes
from trying to do right, as often as right doing from right feeling. He believed
that he had gained a great point with unconverted men, when he had set them to
work in some department of Christian usefulness. The best extant specimen of
his habitual style of preaching in his best daj'S is the little tract entitled, " The
Way to be Saved." In his application of a sanctified common sense to the inter-
pretation of the Bible, he resembled Andrew Fuller, without his undue positive-
ness. Few of his hearers thought of inquiring whether he belonged to old
school or new, to the adherents of the "taste" or the "exercise" scheme: yet
his private conversation and his line of action on test questions showed beyond
doubt that his convictions and particular sympathies were with the Ilopkinsian
wing of the Calvinistic host. A Congregationalist in head and heart, he delighted
to co-operate in every good work with all that love our Lord. He probably was
never heard to present the views of those with whom he differed in an odious
light, or to allude to them at all, unless they happened to be identified with
errors and prejudices known to exist in his hearers' minds, and which must be
removed in the process of leading them to Christ.
Some of Dr. E.'s characteristic traits shone to better advantage, while he
laboured in the service of the American Temperance Society, than while he acted
as a pastor. At a time when Terfiperance Conventions were composed of the
ablest and best men of the community, assembling, not to serve political ends, but
to advance a high moral and Christian enterprise, the place of Chairman of the
Business Committee was almost certain to be assigned to him. Thirtj^ years ago,
before any general agitation of the subject, he had prayed, preached, and con
versed on total abstinence as a remedy for intemperance, till the principle had
come to be generallj^ adopted among his own people. His activity in tliis reforn>
and in kindred ones came naturally of his practical turn : and his habits as a
pastor had been a series of rehearsals preparatory to liis career as a lecturer on
temperance, Sabbath-keeping and the study of the Sacred Scriptures. These he
believed to be the main pillars in the edifice of social morality and order. His
sagacity and tact, his calm fervour and unresting diligence in promoting
these reforms, had an air of true moral sublimity. His energy was like that of a
law of nature. He laid out his course as if he stood alone, yet he was sure of the
best co-operation, moral and material. He strode far in advance of others in
many of his principles and plans, yet he appreciated all objections with the most
584 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
sensitive delicacy, and conceded all their just force. He was tenacious of his
own convictions, knowing them to rest upon a deep insight into men and things
and the profoundest reiiection and prayer, yet none ever imputed to him obsti
nacy or self-will. Seldom as his plans were over-ruled, all knew that he could
surrender them with the best jjossible grace. We are told of Queen Elizabeth's
great minister, the prince of English statesmen, that " the character of his temper
was a vigorous moderation, prom])t and resolute in its measures, and yet seeking
to accomplish the end by the most temperate means, and in the quietest manner.
Moderation was conspicuous in the general scope and direction of his designs, as
well as in the manner of eUecting each particular object." This champion of the
temperance reformation was a pattern of such "vigorous moderation," or, to
adopt the cant phraseology of the day, of progressive conservatism. lie resembled
in this respect the prophet Samuel, as much as Luther did Elijah in his fiery
vehemence. His comprehensive vision could never see in one direction only. His
ardour in behalf of his favourite schemes never jostled other enterprises and duties
out of their proper place. Vituperation, invective, and exaggeration, such as
compose the staple of many a self-st3ded reformer's harangues, never polluted
his lips. The spirit of the Gospel exhaled through all his addresses. They
would have suited any part of the Lord's da}', and would have promoted repen-
tance and fiiith, if preached in the midst of a religious revival. The "hints,"
found in his Memoir, for his own and others' guidance in their temperance efforts,
might have been transcribed from his own example. Without seeming to have
formed any such resolutions as the following, or to have adopted them consciousl}'
and of set purpose, he was the impersonation of them all: "Never be dis-
couraged; never be self-confident; never exaggerate, or state any thing more
than the simple truth; never try to force people forward any further than, fi-om
the light you have thrown before them, they choose to go. Let your object be
the glory of God in the salvation of men. Let every step of your course be sanc-
tified by the word of God and prayer." He relied little upon philosophy, and
made every thing of scriptural principles illustrated by facts. His logic con-
sisted chiefly in marshalling facts so as to sustain and enforce his simple and
luminous statements, without, however, any colouring or straining of truth. His
Annual Reports on Temperance and the Sabbath are unsurpassed as exhibition.s
of the truth to the popular mind. They enslu'ine the very spirit of the man in
their Doric simplicity and strength. He delighted in comparing Providence and
the Bible, and in using them, though always cautiously, as mutual interpreters.
Fortified at all points by scriptural principles and illustrative facts, he could
address sages and children, legislative bodies and Sabbath schools; he could
converse with the greatest statesman and the humblest woman with equal calm-
ness and courage: impressing all alike with the sincerity and soundness of his
views, and with their transcendent importance to the individual and the commu-
nity. Rarely has any minister of the Gospel had equal success in influencing
leading minds by personal conver.'+ation. Many a railroad corporation has sus-
pended its Sabbatli trains, in consequence of his private interviews with the
Directors, when the pul)lic little suspected the occasion of the change. His public
discourses on these subjects, usually written but in part, might seem as if made
up of nude statements of princii)Ies and facts; his sentences might be ragged, and
his gestures uncouth; but few thought of manner or style, while truth and duty
seemed to assume a palpable presence. He was an eminent example of piety
and philanthropy, now so often rudely divorced, acting in their natural union,
and with a mutual dependance and symmetry, as complete as those of the trunk
of a stately elm and its pendant branches.
I was a witness at my own house, in 1847, to Dr. E.'s deportment under the
first severe attack of the painful disease, which, six years after, brought down his
strong frame to the grave. Then and through the subsequent years of declining
JUSTIN EDWARDS.
585
health, he was still the same tranquil, majestic, and childlike man. The Bible
was his constant companion. His lips dropped, as a honey comb, with its conso-
lations. His greatness appeared, when he could no longer do great things, in
the way of his doing little things, and of his submitthig to the hardest of all tasks
to such a man, that of doing nothing. He was as dignified in bearing privation
and pain, as in the broadest theatre of public action. When his departure was
announced, none doubted that for him to die was gain, or that a prince and a
great man had fallen in Israel.
Few men ever left behind them a more distinct impression of their having been
raised up for a specific work, and of their having done the work given them to do.
He was a wise man in the inspired meaning of the term, including moral, quite
as much as mental, excellence, and the selection of the best ends for himself to
pursue, not less than the perception of appropriate means. His favourite maxim
and the philosophy of his whole life was, " To be good is to be great in the best
sense: and to be useful from the love of doing good is to be happy." Such wis-
dom saved him from placing himself in stations which he was often urged to
accept, but which he never would have successfully filled. In the instances which
may be thought to be exceptions to this remark, he is believed to have yielded his
own judgment to the decision of an Ecclesiastical Council, or to the importunity
of the best and ablest men. He honoured, also, in others, powers not exercised
by himself. He appreciated scholarship and aesthetic culture in the ministry.
Partly perhaps from the sense of his own deficiencies, he urged others forward in
making these acquisitions. Certainly the}' would have multiplied liis means of
influence, especially with the young. They would have enabled him to gain and
to keep an ascendency over some minds, whom, after all, he failed to reach. They
would have saved him from unduly repeating himself. They would have imparted
the grace of the Corinthian capital, without weakening the strength of the column.
They would have sustained him in the positions which he so wisely declined.
As he was, he did a work, the fruits of which will long be witnessed in the parish
which enjoyed his ministry, and in the schemes of benevolence, which bear
the imprint of his wisdom, and which owe to his cautious energy so much of their
healthful vigour. Many hundreds will forever bless God for his labours as the
proximate means of their conversion. Many, now preaching the Gospel, in this
and in other lands, will declare themselves indebted for much of their wisdom in
winning souls, to his example as preacher and pastor. The praise aM'arded him
by general consent will be higher than that of having been a brilliant, scholarly,
and polished orator. It will be that of having been, every where and on all occa-
sions, in the house and by the 'way, in his own parish and while preaching and
addressing public bodies in every part of the land, a wise, good man, and a skil-
ful, laborious, and eminently effective minister of Jesus Christ.
I am very faithfully yours,
A. BL AN CHARD.
Vol. IJ. 74
586 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
GAMALIEL SMITH OLDS *
1812—1848.
Gamaliel Smith Olds was born in the part of Granville, Mass., which
is now Tolland, February 11, 1777. His parents, Benjamin and Via
(Smith) Olds, were originally from Sufficld, but removed first to Granville,
and afterwards, when this son was about fifteen years of age, o Marlbo-
rough, Vt., where he resided several years previous to his going to College.
He was graduated at Williams College in 1801, and was a Tutor therefrom
1803 to 1805, In 1806, he was chosen Professor of Mathematics and Nat-
ural Philosophy in the same institution. This office he held, discharging
its duties with great ability and efficiency, for two years, when, in conse-
quence of a difficulty that occurred in the College, rendering it inexpedient
for him to remain, he tendered his resignation.
He engaged now in the study of Theology. He commenced his course
under Dr. West of Stockbridge, and in 1810 became a student in the The-
ological Seminary at Andover ; having united with the church at Marlbo-
rough, the place of his father's residence, about the beginning of the same
year. On the 19th of November, 1813, he was ordained as colleague pastor
with the Rev. Dr. Newton of the First church in Greenfield, Mass. The
council first called to ordain Mr. Olds refused to proceed, on the ground
that one of the clergymen who had been invited, and who took his seat as
a member, was reputed a Unitarian. A second council, however, was soon
called, consisting entirely of those who harmonized in their theological
views ; and by them Mr. Olds was duly set apart to the ministry, — the Kev.
Dr. Samuel Austin of Worcester preaching the sermon.
Mr. Olds remained at Greenfield about three years, and was dismissed in
1816, a short time before the death of his colleague. This was with a view
to his accepting an appointment to a Professorship in Middlebury College ;
but, in consequence of some disagreement between himself and some of the
ofl&cers of the College, he never entered upon the duties of the office. He
wrote, and by advice of the Franklin Association, published, a " Statement
of facts" in the case. From 1819 to 1821, he was Professor of Mathe-
matics and Natural Philosophy in the University of Vermont ; and from
1821 to 1825, was Professor of the same branches in Amherst College.
During several succeeding years, he held the same ofiice in the University
of Georgia. After returning to the North, he resided for some time at
Saratoga Springs, and at one or two other places in the State of New York ;
and in the autumn of 1841, removed to Circleville, Ohio, where he spent
the rest of his days.
From this time, he was the subject of much bodily infirmity, though he
preached frequently for his brethren in the neighbourhood, and generally
attended the meetings of the Presbytery of Columbus, of which, however,
he never became a member. His death was the result of a distressing casu-
alty. On Saturday, the 2d of June, 1848, he left home for the purpose of
supplying two vacant churches in the town of Bloomfield, about twelve
•Packard's Hist, of the Franklin Association. — MSS. from Rev. Dr. Humphrey, Rev.
Charles Scott, Rev. M. A. Sackett, and Rev. G. L. Kalb.
GAMALIEL SMITH OLDS. 587
miles distant from Circleville. There he passed the Sabbath, preaching in
two different places with more than common vigour and fervour. On Mon-
day morning, he started for home ; and when about a quarter of a mile from
the place where he had spent the night, his horse took fright, and starting
to the side of the road, threw him from his vehicle down a precipitous bank,
a distance of ten or twelve feet. Two of his ribs were broken, and he
experienced other severe injuries. He was taken to an inn about two miles
distant from the place where he was hurt, on the way towards home, and
being unable to proceed farther, was left there. His wife was sent for, and
the best medical aid was immediatel}^ called, but the injury could not be
repaired. He lingered in great pain until the 13th, when, in perfect tran-
quillity and submission, he expired.
Mr. Olds left his library, consisting of about three hundred volumes, at
the disposal of the Pi'esbytery of Columbus, to be given by them to some
Theological Seminary under the care of the Old School Greneral Assembly.
They were accordingly given, in the spring of 1856, to the Alleghany
Seminary.
Mr. Olds was married in 1812 to Julia, daughter of Deacon Jonas Whit-
ney, of Marlborough, Vt. They had four children, — three of whom died
in infancy, and the remaining one in the prime of his manhood. Mrs. Olds
died in 1851.
The publications of Mr. Olds are an Inaugural Oration at Williams Col-
lege, 1806 ; the Substance of several Sermons upon the subjects of Epis-
copacy and Presbyterian parity, 1815; Statement of facts relative to the
appointment to the office of Professor of Chemistry in Middlebury College,
1818.
FROM THE REV. CHESTER DEWEY, D. D.
Rochester, April 15, 1856.
My dear Sir: Mr. Olds, concerning whom you enquire, was my Tutor in Col-
lege through my Junior year, 1804-5. He continued in that oflBce the following
year; at the close of which, he was elected the first Professor of Mathematics
and Natural Pliilosophy in the College. Thus my acquaintance with him was
for three years of my collegiate life; and for one of them M'as particular, as he
was the sole teacher of my class during the whole year.
The studies of the Junior year then were chiefly mathematical and philo-
sophical, commencing with Geometry and closing with Philosophy by Enfield.
He heard the class in Cicero de Oratore, and showed us his fine scholarship in
Latin, and also in History, with which his comprehensive mind was familiar.
He delighted especially to range the fields of Mathematical Pliilosophy. I'he
Mathem.atics of College he had at his entire command; and all the parts
appeared as familiar to his mind, as the alphabet to a finished reader. The
chief defect in his exhibition of the principles, was the rapidity of his demon-
strations. The reasoning M'as so perfectly obvious to himself, that he seemed to
wonder that a student should hesitate upon it, even though he had looked at it
but a few moments. So, when he had presented the reasoning in his rapid way, —
clear enough if the student could keep pace with him, he Avas accustomed to
question the unfortunate wight, upon whose eyes the light had flashed, but
made no distinct picture of the objects — " Do j^ou see it ?" Even this short
question he was wont to abbreviate from the same rapidity of his thoughts, to
" See it .'" " See it ?" These two words became, in the class, of frequent appli-
cation in their reasonings with each other, and almost their designation of theii
588 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. |H
popular Professor, as the phrase was an admission of their high estimate of Ws
talents.
Professor Olds ^wssessed a playful spirit, and often opened a vein of the rich-
est humour. His mind moved quickly, and he was keen, shrewd, sarcastic,
strong. Though a fine disciplinarian, he often used such a method of reproof as
was full of pleasantry, and yet adequately corrective. Several members of one
of his classes had often collected in some of their rooms, and imitated the voices
of various animals. They had practised, till they had become expert at bark-
ing, mewing, bleating, lowing, and the like. In the hours of study in the eve-
ning, the bleating begun, and was carried to high perfection by an excellent scholar.
Mr. Olds rapped at the door and walked in; casting his eyes on this fine young
man, he said, — "If I had known the old bell-wether was here, I should not
have called," — and left the room. So fearful was the fellow that " bell-wether "
would become his designation, in and out of College, that he ceased the noises
from that instant, and the nuisance came to a sudden termination.
I knew less of Professor Olds as a preacher than as a teacher in College; but,
with a mind constituted as his was, it was impossible but that his sermons
should have always been full of consecutive and thoroughly digested thought.
His manner in the pulpit was somewhat earnest, and his elocution might, on the
whole, be considered good; but I think the effect of his preaching would have
been increased, if he had manifested a deeper sympathy with his audience.
Professor Olds carried his mathematical preferences into all his reasonings —
he seemed to labour for certainty with the utmost energy, and to consider his
religious and moral principles as having been demonstrated by him. lie had the
reputation of aflBxing Q. E. D. to many conclusions for which only probable proofs
could be adduced. As he well understood the limits of Mathematics, of course
he did not apply Geometrical principles to moral or political subjects; but he
seemed to rest on his deductions as having absolute certainty. This habit of
mind made him often appear to others as dictatorial, self-confident, perhaps
uncharitable. Possessed too of more than an ordinary degree of sensitiveness,
he was perhaps hereby led, at least in part, into those differences of views, which
issued in the unfortunate termination of his relations to two or three Colleges,
by means of which several years of his life were embittered. Under the pres-
sure of a succession of serious disappointments, his mind had, at one time, well
nigh lost its balance. But he lived to recover himself entirely. His last j'ears
were years of active and earnest service in the ministry of the Gospel; and when
he died, the public papers in the region in which he had resided, bore honourable
testimony to his character, his usefulness, and his fidelity.
Very sincerely yours,
CHESTER DEWEY.
JOHN BROWN. 589
JOHN BROWN, D. D*
1812—1839.
John Brown was a native of Brooklyn, Conn., where his father, Shubael
Brown, was a substantial and wealthy farmer. He was born on the 4th of
July, 1786. He was one of a large number of brothers, apparently of
vigorous constitution in early manhood, most of whom, however, became
victims to consumption, while they were yet in the prime of life. While
he was a mere child, he began to discover a passionate fondness for books,
and used to appropriate to the purchase of them the small sums of money
which children ordinarily spend upon their little sports and gratifications.
After passing a few of his early years in labouring on his father's farm, he
went to Plainfield Academy, and commenced his studies with a view to pre-
pare for College. In due time he entered at Dartmouth, and through his
whole course sustained a high reputation in all respects, and was graduated
an excellent scholar in 1809. He became hopefully pious during his College
life, and joined the church in his native place, about the time that he was
graduated.
Soon after leaving College, he became a member of the Theological Semi-
nary at Andover, then in its infancy, and remained there until 1811, when
he accepted an appointment to a Tutorship in Dartmouth College, which he
held for two years. Having received license to preach from the Orange
Association, N. H., he went, after resigning his Tutorship, to preach as a
candidate to the Presbyterian church in Cazenovia, N. Y. They gave him a
call to become their pastor on the 24th of November, 1813, and on the 8th
of December following, he was ordained and installed there by the Presby-
tery of Onondaga. He was married not far from this time, to Sarah
Murdock of jSorwich, Vt., by whom he had eight children. Mrs. Brown
died in Hadley, December 26, 1888, aged forty-three.
Mr. Brown continued his labours here in great fidelity and with no small
measure of success, for about fifteen years. The years 1816 and 1820 were
distinguished by revivals which brought very considerable numbers into the
church. He enjoyed the confidence and affection of his people in an unusual
degree, and sustained a high reputation throughout the whole region.
The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by Union Col-
lege in 1827.
When the Pine Street Church, Boston, became vacant, in 1828, by the
removal of the Rev. Dr. Skinner to a Professorship in the Andover Theological
Seminary, Dr, Brown was selected as a suitable person to become his suc-
cessor; and, having accepted their call, was dismissed from his charge in
January, 1829, and installed in Boston shortly after.
Dr. Brown's ministry in Boston was of short continuance. Though he
was greatly esteemed by his people as an able and wise man, an instructive
preacher, and a faithful pastor, he seems, from his peculiar tastes and habits,
to have been less adapted to a city charge, and to have found himself less
at home in it, than had been anticipated. The result was that, after remaining
* MS. from Rev. G. S. Boardman, Rev. G. J. Tillotson, and Rev. Dr. Woodbridge.
590 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
there about two years, he accepted a call from the church in Hadley, Mass.,
where he was installed on the '2d of March, 1831.
At Hadley, as in the other places in which Dr. Brown exercised his ministry,
he was greatly esteemed for his solid and enduring qualities ; and, while he
found himself in a more congenial atmosphere, he laboured probably with
more comfort and acceptance, than in the congregation which he had left.
Dr. Brown, after a ministry at Hadley of eight years, died there, of con-
sumption, March 22, 1839, aged fifty-three. The disease which terminated
his own life swept away, within a short period, almost his entire family.
The Kev. Dr. Woodbridge, who was his predecessor, and is now (1856) his
successor, in the pastoral ofiice at Hadley, says, " Eight at least of his family,
including himself, lie side by side, in our burying ground; and most of them
died in the course of two or three years."
During his residence at Cazenovia, he published two Sermons on Baptism,
which are considered a very able discussion of that subject.
FROM THE REV. ISRAEL W. PUTNAM, D. D.
MiDDLEBOKOUGH, Mass., JuuG 25, 1856.
My dear Brother : I regret my inability to reply, in any satisfactory manner,
to your request for some account of the Rev. Dr. John Brown, formerly pastor of
the Pine Street Church in Boston. We were indeed classmates at College; but,
owing to peculiar circumstances, were not in very intimate relations with each
other. I had spent my first two years at Cambridge, and was at Hanover only
during the last two. Besides, he was then a decidedly religious character, which
I was not; and we were not brought together by special and strong sympathies.
Indeed, I felt myself quite a stranger at Dartmouth, and, owing to my College
antecedents, was less familiar with the class than they generally were with one
another.
Dr. Brown, as I knew him in v~)ollege, was a man of fine personal appearance,
of kind and gentle manners, of amiable dispositions, of commanding talents, and
excellent scholarship. He was a diligent student, always orderly in his conduct,
earnestly intent on the acquisition of knowledge, and aiming to do good in the
use of it. I think he was, by the College Faculty, considered the second or third
scholar in his class; and this, if my memory serves me, was indicated by his
Commencement appointment and performance. As our fields of professional
labour were remote from each other, during the greater part of his ministry, I
had little opportunity of marking the progress of his career; h'Tt, from all that
I have heard, I have reason to believe that he fulfilled his early promise of use-
fulness in the Church, and that his name deserves a place among the wise and
good of his generation.
With much Christian regard,
I am truly yours,
I. W. PUTNAM.
FROM THE REV. HEMAN HUMPHREY, B. D.
PiTTSFiELD, June 26, 1856.
Dear Sir: I had but little acquaintance with Dr. Brown till he settled in
Hadley. From that time till his death, I knew him well, and esteemed him
highly, as a minister, a Trustee of Amherst College, and a brother beloved in
the Lord. I visited him, from time to time, during his last illness, and preached
the sermon at his funeral; and the lapse of eighteen years has done little to
diminish the distinctness of my impression concerning either his person or his
character.
JOHN BROWN. 591
In person , Dr . Brown -was somewhat above the middling stature ; his complexion
was rather dark; he had a fine eye and an open, benignant countenance. He was
not a man of many words; his mind was not rapid in its movements, but it was
clear and reliable. He had much more than an ordinary share of what is called
common sense, and in making up his final judgments he seldom erred, because
he took time to look at questions on both sides, and kept his personal prefer-
ences, if he had any, in abeyance.
He could not be considered as a man of brilliant parts, and he was as far as
possible from any attempt or wish to pass himself off for more than he was
worth. His talents, though highly respectable, were rather of the working and
practical order, than the popular. He could not have excited the admiration
of superficial or critical hearers, by fine, polished essays in the pulpit, if he had
tried; and he had too high a sense of the great end of preaching, to have done
it if he could. He heartily despised every thing like clap-trap every where, and
above all, in the pulpit. His sermons were able, evangelical, and instructive.
If not very attractive at first, he grew upon you. The more you heard him, the
better you liked him. He gained your confidence by satisfying you that his
grand endeavour was to preach not himself, but Jesus Christ, and himself the
servant of Christ, for your sake. He was not a trained pulpit orator; but his
voice was strong and emphatic; his delivery was solemn, earnest, and at times
highly impressive. He was well rooted and grounded in the great doctrines of
the cross ; and he preached them so clearly, that if his stated hearers did not
understandingly embrace them, it was their own fault. If Christians, sitting under
his ministry, did not gradually " grow up to the stature of perfect men in Christ,"
it was not because he fed them only with milk. He gave them " strong meat,"
too, as they were able to bear it, and not in stinted allowances, whether they all
relished it or not. He was a strong Edwardean Calvinist himself, and as he had
no confidence in mere human suasion, however eloquent, to turn men from dark-
ness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, he prophesied over the
dry bones, as Ezekiel did, when he said, Come, 0 breath, 0 Spirit, breathe upon
these slain that they may live; and God blessed his labours to the edification of
the Church and the conversion of sinners.
Dr. Brown was a minister out of the pulpit as well as in. He was " an
example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in
faith, in purity." He "taught the people publicly, and from house to house."
He was highly esteemed by his brethren in the ministry; had the confidence of
all the churches as far as he was known, and when he died, his people felt that
they had sustained a great loss.
In fine. Dr. Brown was one of that class of ministers who had more talent and
merit than some others, of higher attractions and wider celebrity. He was one
of those whom God has generally most highly honoured by multiplying the seals
of their ministry, and who will " shine as the brightness of the firmament and
as the stars forever and ever."
Accept, dear Sir, this brief and imperfect sketch, from
Your affectionate brother,
H. HUMPHREY.
592 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
MATTHEW RICE DUTTON/>*=
1812—1825.
Matthew Rice Button was born in Watertown, Conn., on the 30th
of June, 1783. His father was Thomas Button, and his paternal grand-
father was of the same name — the last was one of the early settlers of the
town, and was, for many years, a deacon in the Congregational church.
His mother's family name was Punderson — she was a native of New Haven
and a lineal descendant of one of the "seven pillars " of Davenport's church.
When about eleven years of age, he removed with the family to Plymouth,
Conn., where they remained about two years, and thence to Northfield, a
small parish of Litchfield, in both of which places his father kept a small
country store, and when not otherwise engaged, he assisted as a clerk.
AVhen about sixteen, he kept a school in Northfield during the summer,
and the next winter in Harwinton. At seventeen, he entered the Law
ofiice of Ephraim Kirby of Litchfield. But, about this time he had a severe
attack of the measles, which left him with a shattered constitution, and a
weakness of the 63^03, which caused him great pain and loss of time, and
continued, to some extent, during the remainder of his life. In consequence
chiefly of this calamity, he left Mr. Kirby's office and remained at home for
about a year, unable to engage in any business. He had, in the mean time,
become acquainted with the Rev. John Picrpont, whose father lived a few
miles distant, and who commenced that literary career which has since made
his fame national, with the Rev. Joseph E. Camp,t then the pastor of the
church in Northfield. Mr. Pierpont, while pursuing his studies, boarded
with Mr. Button's father. Influenced partly by his own inclination, and
partly by the advice and encouragement of his uncle, Mr. (afterwards the
Rev.) Aaron Button, and of Mr. Pierpont, he changed his plan and concluded
to endeavour to obtain, by his own substantially unaided efforts, a collegiate
education.
Buring the succeeding period until 1806, he repeatedly taught district
schools in Watertown, and in the intervals prosecuted his studies, part of the
time at home, and part of the time with Br. Backus of Bethlem, with the
Rev. Mr. Starr of Warren, at the Academy at South Farms, and at the
Academy at Woodstock, Conn., then under the charge of his uncle already
referred to. He entered the Junior class in Yale College in the autumn
of 1806, and graduated in 1808 with the highest honour, which could, under
the circumstances, be awarded to him. It was during a revival of religion
which took place in the College in 1807 that he embraced the hopes of the
Grospel, and united himself with the College church.
Before he was graduated, he obtained leave of absence and taught an Aca-
demy for several months at Farmington. For a year or more after his gradua-
tion, he had charge of the Academy at Fairfield ; and. on leaving it, went to
Andover and joined the Theological Seminary, where he passed the follow-
ing year in preparing for the ministry. From 1810 to 1814 he was a Tutor
in Yale College. Buring the whole period, he suff"ered severely from weak
• MS. from Governor Button.
t Joseph Eleazar Camp was graduated at Yale College in 1787; was ordained pastor of the
church in Northfield in 17110; was dismissed in 1837; and died in 1838.
MATTHEW RICE BUTTON. 593
eyes, and was dependant, in a great measure, on the voluntary assistance of
students, even in preparing himself fur the duties of his office. In the last
year of his Tutorship, he received a call to settle as pastor of a church in
Portsmouth, N. H.; but his imperfect health induced him to decline it. In
the autumn of 1814, he was ordained pastor of the church in Stratford,
Conn., the sermon on the occasion being preached by President D wight.
Mr. Dutton continued pastor of the church in Stratford, universally
esteemed and beloved, until the autumn of 1821, when he was elected to
the Professorship of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy in Yale College,
as successor to the lamented Professor Fisher. Mathematics had always
been a favourite study with him, and he excelled in it probably more than
in any other branch of learning. He accepted the appointment, and entered
on the duties of the office with great alacrity and ardour ; but his constitu-
tion was not equal to the effort. His mind appeared to gain in activity, as his
body declined in vigour. After a short time, it became apparent to his most
intimate friends that his intellect, though operating with unusual strength
and clearness, had lost all subjection to his will, and governed the whole man
with the power and cruelty of a tyrant. The night brought no cessation to
his mental labours ; but the hours of sleep were spent, apparently with great
satisfaction to himself, in solving difficult theorems in mathematics or
abstruse questions in metaphj-sics. No physical machinery could have lasted
long under such constant pressure and such incessant friction. It is not
surprising therefore that his feeble frame soon gave way. He died partly
from general debility and partly from pulmonary affection, in July, 1825.
He retained apparently the full possession of his intellectual and moral
faculties to the very moment of dissolution ; and it was evident that he
understood what was passing after the power of speech was gone. The last
manifestation of consciousness was an index to the whole tenor of his life —
a peaceful smile. His last days and hours were worthy of his earnest and
devoted Christian life. His funeral sermon was preached by the llev. Dr.
E. T. Fitch from Acts xiil. 36.
Shortly after Mr. Button's settlement in Stratford, he was married to
Maria, daughter of Dr. Asa Hopkins of Hartford. They had two sons, the
eldest of whoiu was graduated at Yale College in 1837, but, on account of
an hereditary weakness of eyes, was prevented from following a professional
life. Mrs. Dutton, with her two sons, still (1856) survives.
When I entered Yale College in 1811, I found Mr. Dutton there as Tutor,
and he continued in that capacity till the commencement of my Senior year.
Though I was not at any time under his immediate instruction, I was brought
into more intimate relations with him than most of even his own pupils, as I
frequently served as his amanuensis ; and my recollections of him have always
been among the most cherished of my college life. In person he was rather
above than below the medium height, was slender and graceful, had a coun-
tenance that always wore a benignant aspect, while it easily lighted up with
intelligence or took on a cheerful and winning smile. His manners were
perhaps less courtly and polished than those of his intimate friend and fellow-
Tutor, Mr. Hull ;* but they were natural and simple, and had that admira-
* Ar^tius Bevil Hull was born at Woodbrulge, Conn., October 12, 1778; passed through
Yale College with high reputation and was graduated in 1807; engaged in teaching a school at
Wethersfield, Conn., but was obliged to relinquish it and travel to the South on account of pul-
monary tendencies; was a Tutor in Yale College from 1810 to 1816, at the close of which period
he was licensed to preach the Gospel ; was ordained as pastor of the First church in Worcester,
Vol. II. 75
594 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ble quality of making themselves felt without being noticed. So universally
was he esteemed by the students that amidst all the difficult passages of
college life, which so often array the students on one side and the Faculty
on the other, I cannot recall an instance in which I ever heard a word dropj)ed
to Mr. Dutton's disparagement. It was not that he was unduly tolerant
of evil, or that he was wanting in vigilance or energy ; but so universal and
entire was the confidence that was reposed in him, that it seemed to be taken
for granted that even where he originated or concurred in decided and even
severe measures, he was incapable of being influenced by any other than
the highest and purest motives. I have always understood that the same
qualities which gave him so much favour as a Tutor, rendered him equally
popular after he was advanced to the Professorship.
As a preacher, my estimate of him is formed partly from having heard him
preach once or twice in the College chapel, partly from having written, by
his request, some of his discourses, but chiefly from the testimony of some
of my friends who were among his constant hearers at Stratford. His voice
was not one of great power, but it was distinct, and not otherwise than
agreeable. He had little gesture, and not a high degree of animation ; but
there was an admirable propriety in hi^ mode of utterance, and a manifest
conviction of the truth and importance of what he was saying, that could
hardly fail to secure the attention, and enlist the feelings, of his audience.
His sermons had little in them that was startling or brilliant; but they were
written in excellent taste, full of appropriate and weighty thought, and con-
structed with such logical accuracy as not only to gain, but keep, their
lodgment in the memory, as material for subsequent meditation. Though
he was distinguished for metaphysical acumen, he thought, with the great
Edwards, that the pulpit is not the legitimate place for its exercise — there
he was contented to know nothing save Jesus Christ and Him crucified.
In his whole character, — intellectual, moral. Christian, there was a beau-
tiful symmetry. All who knew him, loved and admired him while he lived ;
and his few surviving friends cherish his memory as a treasure, and never
speak of him but in a tone of unaccustomed reverence.
FROM THE HON. HENRY BUTTON.
GOVERNOR OF CONNECTICUT.
New Haven, April 28, 1856.
Dear Sir: I have no distinct recollection of ray brother, the late Professor
Button, prior to the time when he was struggling in various ways to fit him-
self for College, and to procure funds to pay his expenses while there. He
was absent from home the greater part of the time, but the pleasure which his
short visits gave to every member of the family, is indelibly impressed on my
memory.
With a feeble constitution, weak eyes, and an empty purse, the prospect
must have been dark; but he was never desponding, and was usually hopeful
and cheerful. He took a great interest in all the younger members of the
family, and spent a great part of the time, during his vacations, while teaching
May 22, 1821; and, after having Laboured faithfully several years and been taken off from his
labours for one year by the return of the malady which had previously threatened him, died on
the 17th of May, 1826. He was a person of an uncommonly attractive exterior, — small but
well formed, with a face expressive of great intelligence, and manners that combined simplicity
and dignity in an unusual degree, lie had a highly cultivated taste, and wrote in a classical
and elegant style, but his manner in the pulpit was characterized rather by that graceful pro-
priety which every body admires, than by that deep kindling of the soul that nobody can resist.
MATTHEW RICE BUTTON. 595
school and in College, in rambling with them through the fields, or sporting
with them in the house. He had a remarkably mild blue ej-e, which never, to
my knowledge, lost its amiable expression, through anger, vexation, or malevo-
lence. A favourite species ofamusoment with hira was to excite the wonder of his
young friends by the statement of some remarkable scientific phenomenon, and
then gratify them b}- a familiar explanation of it. He apparently enjoyed him-
self highly in debating moot questions in Moral Philosophy and Theology with
his father, — who, although deprived of early advantages, had a strong mind
and a great taste for such discussions. He took a peculiar interest in the men-
tal improvement of one of his younger sisters, whose disposition and tastes
Avere very similar to his own, and who afterwards, for a while, was an inmate
of his family. Observing in me also, a greater fondness for study, than for the
labours of a farm, he encouraged me to follow his example in obtaining an edu-
cation by my own exertions, and aided me by the loan of books and such other
means as were in his power.
After an interval of a number of years, I took charge of the same Academy
in Fairfield, Conn., which he had previously superintended. It was very
gratifying to me to find such a pleasant recollection of him among 'lis former
pupils and patrons — they uniformlj' spoke of the patience and cheerfulness with
which he bore the trial of being often obliged to sit in a darkened room, and of
the pleasure and profit which they derived from his conversation. He was, at
every period of his life, extremely afiable with all, without regard to age or
position in society. It has often been my lot to meet with persons of an hum-
ble situation, who have related with much satisfaction some remark which he
had made to them. Long after his death, I casually met with a sea-faring man
of Stratford, who had been one ot his parishioners. Having learned that I was
a brother of his former pastor, he spoke of him in terms of warm commenda-
tion, and mentioned particularly that my brother once took a voj'age with him,
on a small vessel, along the sea coast, for the benefit of his health. He described,
in glowing terms, the delightful conversations which they had, on the deck of
the vessel, and closed by remarking that Mr. Button, on leaving, presented
him with an earthen jug, in which he had carried medicines, — which, on his
account, he valued highly, and would not part with, till the day of his death.
Whenever I visited him, Vi'hether while pastor of the church in Stratford, or
Professor in Yale College, he M'as always the same. Though his conversation
was easy and natural, it did not consist of the ordinary chit-chat of the day,
but soon assumed a philosophical turn. He was not destitute of humour, but
it was never sarcastic or vulgar, but always, even when under the least
restraint, refined and delicate. His whole influence Avas calculated to enlighten
and improve his fellow men.
With the highest respect,
Yours,
HENRY DUTTON.
596 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
JAMES RICHARDS *
1812—1822.
James Richards the second sou of James Richards, was born at
Abington, Mass., on the 23d of February, 1784. While he was very young,
his parents, with their family, removed to Plainfield in the same State,
where he received his early education. He became hopefully pious during
a revival, when he was about thirteen years of age ; but he did not make a
public profession of religion until he was nineteen. He had a strong desire
to devote himself to the ministry ; but the circumstances of his father's
family rendered it difficult that he should be spared from the farm, and it
was not until he was far advanced in his twentieth year that he was able to
commence his studies preparatory to entering College. He entered Will-
iams College when he was twenty-two, and graduated in the class of 1809.
Though he was obliged, even during his college life, to make vigorous eiForts
for his own support, he maintained a highly respectable standing as a stu-
dent, and in the mathematics particularly, was distinguished. His highest
distinction, however, consisted in the depth and vigour of his piety, and in
his being one of tliose few students, with whom may be said to have origi-
nated the American Foreign Missionary enterprise.
Immediately after his graduation, he became a member of the Theologi-
cal Seminary at Andover. Here he had much to do in awakening and dif-
fusing a missionary spirit among his fellow students ; and he was one of the
number who originated the Memorial to the Greneral Association of Massa-
chusetts, that led to the formation of the American Board. His name was
originally subscribed to that paper, but was subsequently withdrawn, on
account of an apprehension expressed by some members of the Association,
that, in the then existing state of public opinion on the subject of foreign
missions, too many names might prejudice the application.
In September, 1812, he finished his theological studies, and was licensed
to preach. Having been accepted by the Committee of the American
Board, as a candidate for missionary service, he went, in November follow-
ing, to Philadelphia, where he spent nearly two years in the study and prac-
tice of medicine, as part of his missionary education. Here he often
preached to destitute congregations, and was employed, for a time, as a mis-
sionary in the suburbs of tlie city.
In 1814, when Mr. Richards' training for the missionary work was com-
pleted, the Board were prevented from sending him forth, by the war then
existing between the L'nited States and Great Britain. He accordingly
accepted an invitation to preach to a small but greatly divided congregation
in Deering, N. H. His labours were instrumental, not only in restoring
harmony to a distracted church, but in bringing a considerable number to
the saving knowledge and experience of Divine truth.
In May, 1815, he was married to Sarah Bardwell of Goshen, Mass. On
the 21st of June following, he was ordained at Newburyport, in company
with Messrs. Warren, Mills, Meigs, Poor, and Bardwell, — the sermon on the
• Missionary Herald, XIX. — Missionary Heroes and Martyrs.
JAMES RICHAEDS. 59^
occasion being preached by the Rev. Dr. Worcester of Salera. On the 23d
of October, he embarked, in company with eight missionary brethren and
sistei'S, for Ceylon ; and, after a favourable passage of five months, they
were safely landed at Columbo.
The Government received the missionaries favourablj', and assigned them
stations in Jaffna, at Tillipally and Batticotta. Mr. llichards, who was
stationed at Batticotta, commenced his studies at Jaffnapatam, where a
temporary residence was obtained, till the necessary buildings should be
prepared. But here he was subject to great embarrassments in the prose-
cution of his work. He was attacked with a severe inflammation of the
eyes, which incapacitated him for study ; and the remedies which he applied,
operated unfavourably upon his general health, and are supposed to have
brought on the pulmonary disease which ultimately terminated his life.
But, though his studies were interrupted, he was enabled to turn his medi-
cal knowledge to good account, and occasionally to preach to the natives
through an interpreter. In September, 1817, his health became so much
reduced, that he was obliged to desist from every kind of labour ; but a
visit of a few months to Columbo considerably relieved him ; and it was
subsequently thought desirable that he should visit that place again, and
eventually that he should accompany Mr. Warren, then at Columbo, to the
Cape of Good Hope. Accordingly, they set sail from Columbo in April,
and arrived at Cape Town in July.
Mr. Warren survived the voyage but a short time ; and such was the
state of Mr. Richards' health, that it appeared almost certain that the two
friends were destined to but a brief separation. The first three months
indeed seemed to show some improvement in his symptoms ; but a severe
hemorrhage then took place, in consequence of which he entirely lost his
voice. In the latter part of November, he embarked for Madras, and
thence proceeded to Columbo, and by water to Jaffnapatam. His journey
by land to Batticotta, though a distance of only seven miles, was followed
by such extreme exhaustion that both himself and his brethren supposed
that the time of his departure had nearly come. In the course of the fol-
lowing summer, however, he recovered so much strength as to be able to
visit the rnission schools, and sometimes to communicate religious instruc-
tion by means of an interpreter.
In April, 1820, he had recovered his voice, and so much general vigour
as to justify the hope that many years of missionary usefulness might be in
store for him. For about one year, he rendered himself highly iLseful to
the miss'ion, not only by his wise counsels, but by his active labours. But
he attempted more than the state of his health would justify. In conse-
quence of overtasking his powers, he relapsed into his former debilitated
state, from which he was destined never to emerge. But he had the
pleasure to see that the smiles of Providence were evidently resting on the
work to which he had devoted himself, — not less than fifteen natives being,
at the close of the year 1821, in church fellowship, and others in an inquir-
ing and hopeful state.
Mr. Richards continued to decline till the 29th of June, 1822, when he
experienced a sudden change from gradual decay to the most acute suffer-
ing. He lingered in this state till the 3d of August, when he died, joyful
and triumphant, in the thirty-ninth year of his age.
598 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
He had three children, — one son and two daughters. The son is a
teacher of idiotic children in the city of New York. Mrs. Richards was
married again after his decease, but died in the spring of 1825.
FROM THE REV. DANIEL TOOR, D. I).
Auburn, N. Y., Februarys, 1850.
My dear Sir: My first acquaintance with the Rev. James Richards was formed
at Uanovcr, at the close of my collegiate course at Dartmouth College. Mr.
Richards and his companion, the Rev. Edward Warren, came to Hanover for the
purpose of attending a course of medical lectures in reference to their contempla-
ted service as foreign missionaries; and it was there that I had my first
intcrcliange of thought and feeling with them on the subject of foreign missions.
Subsequently, at Andover, 1 had free intercourse with both these brethren, in
reference to my joining the little band, who had pledged themselves (D. V.) to
the Foreign Mission field. From tlic time of our embarkation, I was personally
associated with these beloved brethren, till their removal from the mission field;
and as each of them was successively my fellow-labourer at the same station, —
Tillipally, in North Ceylon, they are so closely associated and embalmed
in my memory that I cannot, in compliance with )'^our request, satisfactorily
give a sheet of reminiscences of the one, without a passing notice of the other.
Mr. Warren, the only one of our mission company of nine, who was unmar-
ried, was distinguished by his affability and kind attentions to his associates,
both as a friend and as a physician. On our arrival at Columbo, Ceylon, Mr.
Warren, being free from the cares of a family, was deputed by the mi.ssion to
proceed to Jaffna, b}' land, in a palanquin, to make arrangements at tlie two
stations of Tillipally and Batticotta for the mission families, who, some months
subsequently, proceeded thither by sea. On entering upon our labours at Tilli-
pally in October, 1810, Mr. Warren's services among the natives as a pliysician.
and more especially as a surgeon, turned to great account in opening the wa\'
for more direct missionary labours, and for awakening attention to the nature
and importance of the Gospel message. But alas, for us, his useful cour.se on
earth was soon finished. After the lapse of one short year from the time of our
settlement at Tillipally, he vvas again seized with a pulmonary affection, — a
disease by which he was afflicted before leaving America, and by which he was
now threatened with speedy dissolution. At this trying period, he had ricli
experience of the promised presence of our Lord and Saviour, — " Lo, I am with
you." As indicative of his state of mind in the near prospect of closing his pro-
bationary course, he once observed, on teing interrogated as to the state of hi.s
mind, "I have as great joys as this wenk frame can endure." On ))artially
recovering from this state of extreme weakness, he was advised to proceed to
Columbo, the metropolis of the Island, for change of climate and for medical aid.
In accordance with thi.s advice, he proceeded thither in compnny with Mr.
Richards, who also was an invalid, and suffering from the same disease. After
spending several months at Columbo, they both proceeded in accordance with
medical advice, to the Cape of Good Hope. On the pa.ssage, Mr. Warren being
invigorated in body, lamented that he had not those sensible manifestations of
the Saviour's presence with which he was favoured in Ceylon. On giving expres-
sion to this state of feeling, he was appropriately reminded by Mr. Richards, his
brother physician and fellow sufferer, that " the good Physician keeps his choicest
cordials till they are needed, and can be duly appreciated." Mr. AVarren derived
no essential benefit from his voyage to the Cape; but gradually declined till he
departed in the triumphs of Christian hope and faith on the 18th of August,
1818, — nearly three years from tlie time of leaving his native country. lie did
indeed receive the choicest cordials when most needed, in the hour of nature's
JAMES RICHARDS. 599
extremity, when flesh and heart do fail. His last expressions were with raptur
ous emotions, "Oh, thou kind Angel, conduct nie, conduct me!" This death-
bed scene was made, in the wonder-working providence of God, the means of the
hopeful conversion of a thoughtless young man, who attended Mr. Warren as a
watcher, and who ministered to him in his last hours.
After Mr. Warren's decease, Mr. Richards resided for some months in the family
of Mr. Melville, an engineer in the service of the English Government, at the
Cape, and a pious man. This gentleman, owing in a great degree to Mr. Richards'
influence, subsequently left his employment, and engaged as a missionary in the
service of the London Missionary Societ3^ This was an exceedingly gratifying
event to Mr. Richards, as he regarded it, in some sort, as the result of his
temporary banishment from the mission field in Jaffna. Mr. ^Melville laboured
many years successfully as a missionary in ditferent parts of South Africa, and
kept up a continued correspondence, first with Mr. Richards and subsequently
with the Rev. Joseph Knight, of the Church Missiouarj^ Society, who also was a
fellow-labourer with me in the mission field. Thus, b}'^ means of these provi-
dences, Mr. Richards' ill health and undesired voyage to the Cape became a
connecting link between the interesting mission field in South Africa and that of
North Ceylon; for in Mr. Melville's communications we were usually favoured
with a condensed view of what was in progress touching the affairs of our Zion
in that part of the world.
On Mr. Richards' return to Ceylon, in the year 1819, it was manifest that
the insidious disease with which he was afflicted had made great progress, and
that his days on earth must be few. His frame was emaciated, and he could
speak but in a whisper. Contrary, however, to our fears and quite beyond all
our hopes, his useful life was prolonged, much in the .same state, for the space of
more than three j-ears, until the 3d of August, 1822. Though in so feeble a
state of health, he was able to render important assistance as a physican, as a
Christian companion in the midst of idolaters, and as a counsellor in the incipi-
ent stages of our ^lissionary operations.
On the decease of my late wife, in May, 1821, I was left alone at my station
with the care of three young children, a boarding-school establishment for
heathen children of both sexes, and an extensive village-school establishment, a.s
the appropriate basis for village preaching. In this emergence', ^Ir. and Mrs.
Richards were, at my request, removed from Batticotta, wliere they had from
the beginning been associated with I\Ir. and Mrs. Meigs, to the station at Tilli-
pally, to take charge, Avith the aid of native assistants, of the family concerns of
the two boarding-schools at the Station. In this dispensation of Providence, it
.seemed to be revealed to us why ^Ir. Richards' life had been lengthened beyond
its apparently appointed time. And here too, is an instructive illustration of the
advantages of what we aimed at from the beginning, — namely, to establish a
concentrated and mutually sustaining mission, so situated that the fruits of our
labour might not be lost by the death or failure of one or more individuals. And
in the light of this same illustration, which shoM's what a sick man may do, may
be seen the serious los.scs to which Missionary Societies are subjected by not
sending seasonable and adequate reinforcements of men and money to their
respective missions.
While a boarder in Mr. Richards' fivmily, I found myself in circumstances
more fivvourable than before, for coming into close contact with the natives
throughout an extensive village circuit, for the purpose of technicaUy preaching
the Gospel of the grace of God. In addition to the assistance which Mr. Rich-
ards rendered in providing for the family and boarding-school establishments, he
took charge, in connection with a native teacher, — also a pupil, of the first class
in the boarding-school, in English Grammar. In this inipor ant branch, it fell
to Mr. Richards' lot to k-ad the way. Hereby, he put forth a forming baad ip
600 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
the education of some who M'crc subscriueiitly the first graduates from the Batti-
cotta Seminary. While tlius associated with Mr. Richards it was that I was
brought into close fellowship with him as a Christian brotlier and fellow-labourer
in the mission field, and as one of the pioneers in the foreign missionary enter-
prise. He took a lively interest in my appropriate sphere of labour, and did
much in various ways to strengthen and encourage me in the work. lie was
habituall}^ in a cheerful frame of mind, and though he conversed but little,
usually had some weighty remark for the occasion; and hence he contributed his
share of interest to our social prayer meetings. He ever took a conservative
view of the affairs of the mission, — believing that we were highly favoured in
regard to our field of labour and future prospects. In conversation with him
respecting the early movements of Mills and his associates, (of whom ^Ir. Rich-
ards was one,) he informed me that from the time of his enlistment as a foreign
missionary, he had his mind made up to the point of working his way before the
mast to some part of the Pagan world, in case that .should be found necessary to
carry out the object of his enlistment.
For months previous to his dissolution, it was a .severe trial to him that hi?
mind so deeply sympathised with the extreme apathy and morbid state of his
body. On my accosting him one morning in the way of inquiring after his
health, he replied, " Strange to say, I am hoping to be in Heaven in the course
of a few days, and yet am stupid as a stone!" During this period, he greatly
enjoyed the hearing of the Scriptures read, and the visits of Christian friends;
and though his remarks were few, they were an ample compensation to those
who ministered to him in his feebleness. His case furnished, in this respect, a
happy specimen of the intellectual and moral wealth which the infirm and faint-
ing, whetlier old or young, may possess, and which they have to impart to tho.'^e
who wait upon them in the season of nature's extremitj^, when otherwise their
society might be shunned, instead of being sought. A? I was once sustaining
him on the side of his bed, while seated in full view of our mission church bury-
ing ground, he burst forth with deep emotion and said, " How surprising and
joyful it will be to Avake up here in TiUii)ally on the Resurrection morn! " The
whole scene of that day, as described by President Davies in a sermon which Mr.
Richards much admired, seemed to pass before his mind in blessed anticipation.
About fifteen days before his death, a change came over him. lie was sub-
jected to frequent paroxysms 'of pain, grievous to be borne. But his mind was
equally wrought upon, being greatly roused, invigorated, and made joyful in (ind
his Saviour. It was my privilege to minister to him the last night of his suller-
ings on earth: on his obtaining temporary relief from intense pain, he observed.
" I should be willing to have my bodily pains increase, if the joy.s I have arising
from my views of the Saviour were increa.sed also." " And what are those
views?" .said I, "which you have of the Saviour .'" " Can't tell," .s.aid lie-
-in a word, 'tis love and suffering."
I also was in joyous attendance on that pleasant morning, when, in a state of
sweet repose of body and mind, he made his last adjustments and girded up his
mind for hi.-? final exit. I heard him call for the little Bible which he had kept in
reserve for the occasion, and saw him ])resent it to his young and oidy son. I
also distinctly heard the three accompanying re(iucsts, — requests suggested and
sanctioned not less by the blessed volume itself than by the deep yearnings of a
father's love. I, too, was in the secret of the last signal agreed upon by him and
his surviving and attending partner,— that the last expiring gaze upon her, after
the power of utterance failed, should be the accepted token that all was well, at
the last sundering of all earthly ties.
In regard to his personal appearance, Mr. Richards may have been about five
feet eight inches in height; but being of a slender frame, or rather the reverse of
being a corpulent man, he was in appearance rather tall. lie was of a sandv
JAMES RICHARDS. 601
complexion, and his countenance was a foir index to the man — though cheerful,
yet mild, grave, and prepossessing. His manner of preaching Avas plain, didac-
tic, and pointed, evincing an earnest and devoted spirit rather than very
remarkable talents. In this connection, however, it is to be remembered that he
attained to a good degree of respectability in two professions, theological and
medical, in the time usually allotted to one. But it was in imparting counsel
and encouragement to his associates, that he most excelled, and for which he was
sincerely loved and highly esteemed.
I remain, Rev. and dear Sir, yours very truly,
D. POOR.
ALFRED MITCHELL*
1813—1831.
Alfred Mitchell was born in Wethersfield, Conn., on the 22d of May,
1790. Both his parents were of Scottish extraction. Ilis father was the
Hon. Stephen Mix Mitchell, who held various important offices under both
the State and National governments, and died at a very advanced age, after
a long career of both civil and Christian usefulness. His mother was Han-
nah, daughter of Donald Grant, a lady of distinguished excellence, who also
survived to old age and adorned every relation she sustained. It was no
small privilege to have been born of such parents, and especially to be the
subject of such a training as their high intellectual, social, and Christian
qualities would be likely to secure.
Alfred, the youngest son, spent his early years at home, and was fitted
fur College at the public school in AVcthersfield. He was a good scholar,
and was particularly distinguished for a judicious, fearless independence,
united with great conscientiousness, thougli he was diffident in his manners
to a fault. His favourite amusement was cultivating flowers and fruit ; and
he retained his relish for this through life. He entered Yale College in
1805, and graduated in 1809. During this period, he became the subject
of deep and abiding religious impressions ; and, at the age of seventeen,
made a public profession of his faith, by uniting with the College church.
Having completed his collegiate course, he commenced the study of Theo-
logy under the direction of the llev. Ebenczer Porter, then of Washington,
Conn. He continued with him until ^Ir. P. accepted the Professorship in
the Theological Seminary at Andover ; whither also he followed him, and
completed his theological studies, after a course of three years. On leaving
the Seminary, he preached, for a short time, to a congregation in Bridge-
water, Mass., and then accepted an invitation to preach in the church at
Norwich, rendered vacant by the then recent death of the licv. Asabel
Hooker. Having preached there about six months, he received a unanimous
call to the pastorship ; and, having accepted it, was ordained in October,
1814, — the ordination sermon being preached by his theological teacher, the
Kev. Professor Porter. •
Here Mr. Mitchell continued a laborious and faithful minister, for seventeen
years. During this period his congregation greatly increased in numbers,
• MSS. from his sister and the Rev. R. Robbing.
Vol. II. 76
602 TRIJJITAllIAN CONGREGATIONAL
intelligence, and rcspcctabiliW; and there were three extensive revivals, which
hroiight large numbers into the church. But he was arrested by death at
the period of his highest usefulness ; and probably in consequence of his
liaviiig over-tasked his physical and moral energies, in connection with a
revival of religion. The disease which terminated his life was a derange-
ment of the digestive organs, terminating in chronic inflammation, and
attended with paroxysms of intense agony. During the eight weeks in whic-li
it was accomplishing its work, he exhibited the utmost serenity of spirit ;
and, as the closing scene drew near, his mind evidently kindled into a rapture,
in anticipation of the glory that was about to open upon him. He died on
the 19th of December, 1831, in the forty-second year of his age. His funoml
sermon was preached by the Rev. Charles Hyde of Norwich, and was pub-
lished. Another sermon on his death was subsequently preached by the
IXev. Dr. Tenney of Wethersfield, and was also published.
Mr. Mitchell was married in 1814 to Lucretia, daughter of Nathaniel
Shaw Woodbridge of Salem, Conn., — a lady distinguished for her intellec-
tual powers and Christian attainments. They had nine children, — three of
wdiOQi died in infancy. His eldest son entered Amherst College, but was
unable to complete his collegiate course, in consequence of the development
of a pulmonary disease, which terminated his life at the age of twenty-one.
His second son, Donald Grant, Avas graduated at Yale College in 1841,
and is well known as one of the most popular writers of the day. His
fourth son, Alfred, entered the Sophomore class in Yale College, but was
unable to pursue his collegiate course on account of being threatened with
the disease which had terminated the life of his brother and some other mem-
bers of the family.
Mr. Mitchell published a Sermon on occasion of returning to a place of
worship which had been enlarged and improved, 1829 ; a Sermon on the
death of Mrs. Sarah Lauman, 1829; a Sermon on I. Thess. ill. 8, 183U ;
a Sermon on the death of Bela Peck Williams, 1831 ; a Sermon prepared to
be presented at the " Saybrook Platform Meeting." The last two were
printed in the Evangelical Magazine.
FROM THE REV. ALBERT T. CHESTER, D. D.
Buffalo, January 25, 1854.
My dear Brother: It gives me great pleasure to comply with your request to
write out some of my personal recollections of the friend and pastor of my child-
liood and j-outh, — the Rev. xVlfrcd ]Mitchell of Norwich. My mind always recurs
to that portion of my life with deep interest, and no form that presents itself to
my imagination, amid the reveries of the past, awakens more pleasant memories
than his. His clear voice, shrill but fine, was the first to present to my infant
ear the story of redeeming love, with the authoritative tones of a lierald of the
Cross. To him I recited the Assembly's Catechism, at set periods, with others
of my age, receiving from him religious tracts as rewards; and I remember maiiv
a toilsome journey to his house, alone, in days wlicn a walk of a mile was a long
journey, to repeat passages of Scripture and Hymns, when, with kind words of
faithful exhortation and prayer, he would give me some other token of his
approbation. His teachings of flie way of salvation in these private interviews,
and from the sacred desk, have been the basis of all my experience of the bless-
ings of the Gospel and my knowledge of the way of life. My earliest impres-
sions of the dignity and exaltation of the pastoral office were received from him
ALFRED MITCHELL. 603
He was a minister of the old school, still maintaining the distinctive character
of the venerable preachers of the former generation, at a time when veneration
for the ministr}' had begun to fail. The proclamation of the truth from his lips
was blessed of God to my awakening and conviction of sin, and by him was I
directed to the Saviour who giveth life by his death. His solemn voice uttered
the words of the public covenant with God, into which I entered with many
others, the fruits of a blessed revival, just before I entered College in 1830"
and from his hands I first received the memorials of the Saviour's dying love
Can I fail to hold him in grateful remembrance, or refuse to bear my testimony
to his excellence and faithfulness as a servant of Jesus Christ 't I recall one inter-
view with him which affected me deeply at the time, and which has ever been an
example to me, when called to give instr.uction to young Christians. After ven-
turing to indulge hope in Christ, I visited him to tell him how happy I was, when,
instead of rejoicing with me, he commenced a most heart-searching examination,
and finally dismissed me, feeling more than ever as if there could be no mercy
for me. It led me, I trust, to a clearer view and a stronger hold of Christ as
the only Saviour.
His personal appearance was preposse,ssing; his form was manly; his counte-
nance benignant, though exceedingly grave and solemn; his gait and attitudes
were all dignified. In speech, he was deliberate; every thought was well exam-
ined before it was permitted to pass his lips. This gave him an appearance of
reserve and coldness, which, however, his uniform kindness and amiable temper
ever contradicted.
His sermons were always most carefully studied and written. ■ It was well
understood that he would not preach to his own people, unless his sermon had
been finished to please him, but would exchange with some neighbouring pastor,
and take another week to make his work complete. It was a common remark
among his parishioners, as I well remember, when the Sabbath morning came,
" We are not at all sure that we shall hear our own minister to-day, but we are
perfectly certain, if we do hear him, that we shall have a good sermon." Nor
were his discourses merely correct in style, and unobjectionable in expres.sion, —
polished but pointless; — they often contained passages of great power, which,
delivered, as they were, with increa.scd animation, fairly startled the congrega-
tion. A sermon from the text, " The glory of this latter house shall be greater
than that of the former," on the occasion of entering the church which had beeii
much enlarged and improved, partook largely of this impressive character, and
may be considered as the commencement of an extensive and powerful revival of
religion. This sermon was published, and presents a fair specimen of the
author's abilities.
He did not make many visits among his people, except those incident to a faith-
ful attendance upon the .sick and the afflicted. His residence was remote from
the centre of his flock, and his habits of study and a natural timidity contribu-
ted to render him less social than it is desirable a pastor should be. Yet this in
him was not accounted a fault. There were so many excellencies of character
as entirely to cast this into the shade, and leave notliing to prevent the strongest
po.ssible attachment on the part of his people. It partook of the nature of wor-
ship,— a feeling which his seclusion tended to increase; and when he was taken
away, in the ver}' prime of life, the excessive grief of the people showed to what
an extent he had been idolized among them. T well remember, on one occa-
sion, when he had read from the pulpit at the beginning of the service, a pub-
lishment or notice of an intended marriage, with what unearthly solemnity of
voice and with what a grieved expression of countenance, he announced, at the
close of the service, that he had just been informed by one of the parties who,
to the amazement of the audience, had been seen to ascend the pulpit stairs, that
the notice which had been read was not genuine, — that he and the congrogatio'i
504 TRINITARIA^' CONGREGATIONAL.
had been imposed upon, and the Sabbath and the house of God profaned by such
trifling. The deep indignation of the people was expressed against the author
of this serious joke, especially because it seemed to be an insult offered to their
excellent minister, though it was only intended by the wicked wag who furnished
the notice, for the annoyance of the young man, who was so unceremoniously
advertised as a candidate for matrimony.
Mr. Mitchell's entire ministerial life was spent among his people in Noruieh.
There he laboured faithfully in the service of his Divine Master, and had thehaj)-
piness of introducing manj^ precious souls into the Kingdom of Jesus Christ.
There he died amid the tears of a most aflbctionate people, who could scarcely
be comforted in their great bereavement. There he is buried, and still, many a
mourner is seen shedding tears of grateful remembrance at the foot of his mon-
ument; and many a son of Norwich who comes back from his distant abode to
view the romantic scenery of his native place, is not content to return until he
has also wept at the grave of his early pastor and friend.
My dear brother, I wish I could be sure that any of my people in future years
would remember me as affectionately as I do him. Thus far have I written with
great pleasure according to your request. I wish it were more and better, but I
find it difficult to recall the past, so as to be sure of the truth of what I write,
and I am not willing to draw upon my imagination.
Very truly yours,
A. T. CHESTER.
FROM MRS. L. H. SIGOURNEY.
Hartford, June 19, 1854.
My dear Sir: I am glad you have asked me for some reminiscences of the Rev.
Alfred Mitchell; for they are of so agreeable and elevating a character, that it
is a pleasure to restore them. I first saw him at Wethersfield, his native place,
at an evening festivity given in honour of his marriage with a young lady of
uncommon beauty and loveliness.
I was then engaged in my school at Hartford, and invited, as a stranger, to
accompany my friends, Mr. and Mrs. Wadsworth. It was the depth of winter,
and the excitement of a pleasant sleigh-ride of four miles quickened the spirits
for social enjoyment. The circle was large and one of high intelligence and
refinement. There was the venerable father, Judge Mitchell, long revered as a
Statesman and Senator of our nation, whose life was protracted in happiness and
honour, until past the age of ninety; and the mother, serene indignity, of whom
it is no slight praise to say that she was worthy of her life's companion and of
the affection and confidence he ever reposed in her. The youngest of their family
of eleven, — six sons and five daughters, all ably endowed, both physically and
mentally, — was the bridegroom, who, with the sweet and graceful bride, was
the centre of attraction to every eye. He was of more than common height, of
a fair complexion and most amiable and interesting manners.
To me he was an object of heightened interest, from having just accepted the
charge of a church in Norwich, my dear native city. It was in Chelsea, two
miles from my father's residence; j^et, when at home during school vacations, I
sometimes availed myself of the privilege of hearing him preach. His sermons
were clear and well written, and his manner in the pulpit simple and fervent,
lie was the idol of his people, acquainting himself with their concerns, and enter
in"- into their joys or sorrows with sympathy. In the spirit of Christian love,
he spoke and lived.
In rearing a large family of children, one of whom is now among the most
distinguished writers of our country, the gentleness and good judgment of the
young parents were remarkable. Their abode was in one of the pleasantest
ALFRED MITCHELL. g()5
spots of that peculiarl}^ romantic region; and in a thick grove at the extremity
of his grounds he constructed a study, where, in the sweet solitude of nature,
he might meditate on the high themes and duties of his profession. It was cha-
racteristic of him that liis only book there should be the Bible. Not to imbue
his mind with theological controversy was his object, but to deepen the humility
and charity of that Gospel which he taught and loved. Metaphj^sical hair-split-
ting, or the severe supervision of differing opinions, which is sometimes allowed
to alienate and embitter the hearts of holy men, had for him no charms.
Not of that band was he who toil and strive
To pluck the mote out of their brother's creed,
Till charity's forgotten plant doth miss
The water-drop, and diej but of the few
Who bear Christ's precept on their lip and life, —
■' See that ye love each other."
Very sincerely yours,
LYDIA H. SIGOURNET.
WILLIAM COGSWELL, D. D *
1813—1850.
AViLLiAM Cogswell was born in Atkinson, N. H,, June 5, 1787. His
father, Doctor William Cogswell, was distinguished as a physician and a
magistrate, and held the office of Surgeon in the army during the war that
gave us our independence. His mother was a daughter of the Hon. Joseph
Badger of Gilmanton, a gentleman of great respectability and for a long
time in public life.
Under the influence of good parental instruction, his mind was early
formed to a deep sense of the importance of religion ; but it was not till he
was fitting for College at Atkinson, that he received those particular religious
impressions which he considered as marking the commencement of his
Christian life. He did not make a public profession of religion 'jintil the
close of his Junior year, September, 1810 : at that time he, with both
his parents, and all his brothers and sisters, — eight in number, received
baptism, and were admitted to the church on the same day, in his native
place, by the Rev. Stephen Peabody.
He became a member of Dartmouth College in 1807. Having maintained
a highly respectable standing in a class that has since numbered an unusual
proportion of distinguished men, he graduated in 1811. For two years after
leaving College, he was occupied in teaching in the Atkinson and Hamp-
ton Academies. But, during this time, having resolved to enter the
ministry, he commenced the study of Theology under the direction of the
liev. Mr. Webster of Hampton ; and subsequently continued it under Dr.
Dana of Newburyport and Dr. Worcester of Salem, — chiefly the latter.
Having received license to preach from the Piscataqua Association, Septem-
ber 29, 1813, he performed a tour of missionary service in New Hampshire,
and at the close of December, 1814, returned to Massachusetts, and accepted
an invitation to preach as a candidate for settlement, in the South parish in
•Fun. Serm. anJ MS. by Rev. Daniel Lancaster.
506 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Dedham. After labouring there a few weeks, be received a unanimous call,
which, iu due time, be accepted; and on the 20th of April, 1815, he was
duly set apart to the pastoral office. Here he continued laboriously and
usefully employed about fourteen years ; durin^^ which time, the church
under his care was doubled in numl)ers, and enjoyed a high degree
of spiritual prosperity.
In June, 1829, he was appointed General Agent of the American Edu-
cation Society ; and he accordingly resigned his pastoral charge with a view
to an acceptance of the place. He entered upon the duties of his new
office in August following ; and so acceptable were his services, and so well
adapted was he found to be to such a field of labour, that in January, 1832,
he was elected Secretary and Director of the Society. His duties now
became exceedingly arduous, and his situation one of vast responsibility.
In addition to all the other labours incident to his situation, he had au
important agency in conducting the Quarterly Journal and Ilegistcr of the
American Education Society, — a work that required great research, and
that has preserved much for the benefit of posterity, which would otherwise
have been irrecoverably lost.
In 1833, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity by
Williams College.
It became manifest, after a few years, that Dr. Cogswell's physical
constitution was gradually yielding to the immense pressure to which it was
subjected. He accordingly signified to the Board of Directors of the Edu-
cation Society his intention to resign his office as Secretary, as soon as a
successor could be found. He was induced, however, by their urgent
5*olicitation, to withhold his resignation for a short time; though, in April,
1841, his purpose was carried out, and his resignation accepted. The Board
with which he had been connected, rendered, on his taking leave of them,
the most honourable testimony to the ability and fidelity with which he had
discharged the duties of his office.
On the same month that he determined on resigning his place in the
Education Society, he was appointed by the Trustees of Dartmouth College,
Professor of History and National Education. Here again his labours were
very oppressive ; as he was obliged not only to prepare a course of Lectures
on a subject comparatively new, but to perform much other service, especi-
ally in the way of collecting funds to endow his Professorship. He was
chiefly instrumental at this time, in establishing the Northern Academy of
Arts and Sciences, and of gathering for it a library of about two thousand
volumes.
But while he was thus actively and usefully engaged, he was invited to
the Presidency of the Theological Seminary at (jilmauton, in connection
also with the Professorship of Theology, and a general agency in collecting
funds. There were many circumstances that led him to think favourably of
the proposal, and finally to acceftt it. He accordingly removed his family
to Gilmanton in January, 1844.
His expectations in this last field of labour seem scarcely to have been
realized. The removal of one of the Professors to another institution,
devolved upon him an amount of labour which he had not anticipated; and
he found it impossible to attend to the business of instruction, and at the
same time to be abroad among the churches, soliciting pecuniary aid. At
length, finding that the public mind was greatly divided as to the expediency
WILLIAM COGSWELL. 607
of making any further efforts to sustain the institution, he recommended that
its operations should, for the time being, be suspended; though he considered
it as only a suspension, and confidently believed that it had yet an important
work to perform. He held himself ready after this to give private instruc-
tion in Theology, whenever it was desired.
In 1848, Dr. Cogswell suffered a severe domestic affliction in the death
of his only son, — a young man of rare promise, at the age of twenty.
This seemed to give a shock to his constitution from which he never after-
wards fully recovered. He acted as a stated supply to the First church in
Gilmanton until the early part of January, 1850, when he was suddenly
overtaken with a disease of the heart that eventually terminated his life.
He preached on the succeeding Sabbath, (Jannar}' lotli,) but it was for the
last time. He performed some literary labour after this, and read the con-
cluding proof sheet of a work that he was carrying through the press, for
the New Hampshire Historical Society. When he found that death was
approaching, though at first he seemed to wish to live, that he might carry
out some of his plans of usefulness, not yet accomplished, he soon became
perfectly reconciled to ihe prospect of his departure. lie died in serene
triumph, — connecting all his hopes of salvation with the truths he had
preached, — in April, 1850. His funeral sermon was preached by the Rev.
Daniel Lancaster of Gilmanton and was published.
Dr. Cogswell was a member of the Jlnssaehusetts Historical Society, of
the American Antiquarian Societ}-, and of the New England Historic and
Genealogical Society. He was also an Honorary member of the Historical
Societies of New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New
Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Georgia, and a Corresponding member of the
National Institution for the promotion of Science at Washington.
The following is a list of Dr. Cogswell's publications : — A Sermon on the
nature and extent of the Atonement, 181G. A Sermon containing the
History of the South parish, Dedhara, 181U. A Sermon on the suppression
of intemperance, 1818. A Catechism on the doctrines and duties of Reli-
gion, 1818. A Sermon on the nature and evidences of the Inspiration of
the Sacred Scriptures, 1819. A Sermon before tlic Auxiliary Education
Society of Norfolk county, 1826. Assistant to Family Religion, 1826. A
Sermon on Religious Liberty, 1828. A Valedictory Discourse to the South
parish, Dedham, 1829. Theological Class Book, 1831. Harbinger of the
Millennium, 1833. Letters to young men preparing for the ministry, 1837.
In addition to the above. Dr. Cogswell wrote the Reports of the American
Education Society for eight yeai's — from 1833 to 1840 ; and two Reports
of the Northern Academy. Ho was the principal Editor of the American
Quarterly Register for several years ; was Editor also of the New Hamp-
shire Repository, published at Gilmanton, N. H. ; of the first volume of
the New England Historical and Genealogical Register ; of a paper in
Georgetown, Mass., called the Massachusetts Observer, for a short time ;
and of the sixth volume of the New Hampshire Historical Collections.
Dr. Cogswell was married on the 11th of November, 1818, to Joanna,
daugliter of the Rev. Jonathan Strong, D. D., of Randolph, Mass. They
had three children, — one sou and two dauaihters.
008 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
FROM THE REV. SAMUEL G. BROWN, D. D.
PROFESSOR IN DARTMOUTH COLLEGE.
Hanover, April 10, 1856.
My dear Sir: I had the pleasure of considerable acquaintance with the Rev.
Dr. Cogswell, though only during the later years of his life. lie was not then
accustomed to preach, except occasionally to supply a vacant pulpit, or as a part
of his duty as Secretary of tlie Education Societ}', or in connection with his Pro-
fessorship in Dartmouth College, or the Theological Seminary at Gilmanton.
He had formed his stjie on the model of the older preachers and theologians, and
if he had something of their formality, he had much of their scriptural simplicity
of statement, and devoutness of feeling. His sermons, so fur as I remember them,
though showing a careful adherence to the doctrinal opinions of the Fathers of
New England, were not of a polemic character, but were marked by good sense,
earnestness, a biblical mode of uddress, and warm Christian sympathies.
From natural kindness of heart, he avoided unnecessary controversy, and was
especially solicitous to harmonize and unite by charity, rather than by acuteness
to discriminate differences among brethren, or to separate them by severity of
judgment. Not ambitious, he was yet gratified by the approbation and good
opinion of others, and loved a position where he might be prominent in labours
of charity. Neglect or contumely wounded, but did not embitter, him. No
feeling of ill-nature was suffered to disturb his peace or check his liberality.
Among the prominent traits of his character, was a sincere and unwearied
benevolence. He was interested in young men, and his labours as Secretary of
the American Education Society, were stimulated even more by love of the work,
than by a sense of official responsibility. He was thoroughly devoted to the
objects which interested him, and though one might differ from him in judgment
with respect to measures, none doubted his sincerity or refused him the praise of
unsparing fidelity.
His tastes led him to antiquarian pursuits, and he was prominent in founding
and conducting several learned Societies which have done much to rescue valuable
knowledge from oblivion, and thus to secure the materials for future history.
He bore adversity with meekness and patience. What might have crushed a
harder spirit, but gave his greater symmetry. The latter years of his life,
though darkened with many disappointments, were illustrated b}^ the exhibition
of admirable and noble traits of character, such as few, except his most intimate
friends, supposed liim so fully to possess. The death of an only and very pro-
mising son while in College, and the failure of some favourite plan, seemed only
to develop a touching and beautiful Christian resignation and a high magna-
nimity. Not a murmur was heard from his lips under his irrepara1)le loss, nor an
unkind or reproachful word at the disappointment of his expectations ; nor did
an unsubmissive or harsh thought seem to find a place in his heart. Those
especially who witnessed his last sickness were deeidy impressed with the Chris-
tian virtues and graces which found a free expression in the hour of trial.
Dr. Cogswell was portly in appearance, grave and dignified in his bearing, and
eminently courteous in manner. He will be remembered with kindness by all
who knew him, and by many with a feeling of strong gratitude and affection.
Witli great regard, your obliged friend and servant,
S. G. BROWN.
THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET. QQ9
THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET, L L. D *
1814— 1S51.
Thomas Hopkins Gallaudet was born in the city of Philadelphia on
the 10th of December, 1787. His father, Peter W. Gallaudet, was
descended from a Huguenot family which fled from France on the revoca-
tion of the edict of Nantz, and settled at New Ptochelle, N. Y. His
mother, Jane Hopkins, was a daughter of Capt. Thomas Hopkins, a
descendant of one of the first settlers of Hartford, Conn. The family
removed to Hartford in 1800, where the son ever afterwards made his
home.
He pursued his studies preparatory to entering College at the Hartford
Grammar school, and became a member of the Sophomore class in Yale
College in 1802, when he was in his fifteenth year. Though he was the
youngest member of his class, he took rank at once among the best scholars,
and held it till the close of his college life. He was remarkable for accuracy
in every department of study, while he was particularly distinguished for
his attainments in Mathematics, and for an exact and graceful style of com-
position.
Soon after leaving College, he commenced the study of Law in the ofiice
of the Hon. Chauncey Goodrich ; and here also he gained great credit by
his recitations, and gave promise of attaining to eminence in the profession.
The state of his health, never robust, compelled him, at the close of the
first year, to suspend his legal studies, which he never resumed. For the
next two or three years, he devoted the greater part of his time to English
literature. In 1808, he accepted the office of Tutor in Yale College, and
held it two years. His health now requiring a more active life, he under-
took a business commission for a large house in New York, which took
him over the Alleghanies into the States of Ohio and Kentucky, — and, on
his return, he entered a counting room in New York, in the capacity of
clerk, with the intention of engaging permanently in mercantile pursuits.
But he had aspirations which neither Law nor Commerce would satisfy ;
and it was not long before he gave up the idea of being a merchant, and
found a more congenial employment in the study of Theology.
About this time, Mr. Gallaudet made a public profession of religion, by
connecting himself with the First church in Hartford, then under the pasto-
ral care of the Rev. Dr. Strong. In the autumn of 1811, he joined the
Theological Seminary at Andover, where he prosecuted his studies with
great vigour and success, though not without some interruptions by reason
of delicate health. He was licensed to preach in 1814; and was immedi-
ately invited to occupy several important posts of ministerial labour ; but
Providence had designed for him another field, in which his philanthropic
spirit, not less than his noble intellect, was to find ample scope.
Dr. Cogswell of Hartford had a little daughter, (Alice,) who was deaf
and dumb ; and, as Mr. Gallaudet lived in the Doctor's immediate neigh-
bourhood, he became deeply interested in this little girl, and, at length,
succeeded in arresting her attention by the use of signs. This was the
Vol. n.
Biirnard's Eulogy.— :MS. from bis son, T.cr. TLouas Gallaudet.
610 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
starting point of the enterprise that resulted in the establishment of the
" Connecticut Asylum for the education of deaf and dumb persons," which
was incorporated by an Act of the Legislature of Connecticut in May,
1816.
On the 13th of April, 1815, — chiefly at the instance of Dr. Cogswell, —
a meeting of some of the most wealthy and public-spirited gentlemen in
Hartford was held at Dr. C.'s house, to discuss the practicability of send-
ing some suitable person to Europe to acquire the art of instructing the
deaf and dumb. The meeting resulted in a resolution to undertake the
enterprise, and in the appointment of a committee to collect the necessary
funds, and to secure, if possible, the proper person. The funds were
immediately collected, and all eyes were turned upon Mr. Grallaudet as the
individual, in every respect, best fitted to engage in this mission. After
taking a little time to consider the subject, he gave an affirmative answer
to the application, and on the 20th of May following, sailed from New
York, in the prosecution of his benevolent object.
After arriving in England, he found that he had to encounter unexpected
obstacles in obtaining admission as a pupil in the institutions both at London
and EdinDurgh ; and while his patience was thus tried by protracted delays,
he became acquainted in London with the Abbe Sicard, who was on a visit
there for the purpose of delivering a course of lectures explanatory of his
mode of teaching the deaf and dumb. This eminent man cordially invited
him to vi*it Paris, and proflferred him every means of improvement in the
art he had come to learn, which it was in his power to furnish. He accepted
the invitation, and realized in the result all and more than all that he had
been led to expect.
During his residence in Paris, Mr. Gallaudet preached for a considerable
time in the Chapel of the Oratoire, — his audience consisting chiefly of
English and American residents and visitors. His discourses were heard
with profound attention and admiration, and several of them were published
in a small volume after his return to this country.
Mr. Grallaudet's residence in Paris was somewhat abridged by the unex-
pected offer of Mr. Laurent Clerc, — himself a deaf mute, — one of the
most distinguished of the Abbe Sicard's pupils, and one of the ablest
teachers in the Paris institution, — to accompany him to this country as an
assistant teacher, provided the Abbe would give his consent. That illustri-
ous man. however reluctant to spare him, did not feel at liberty to interpose
any objection to the benevolent proposal ; and, accordingly, they soon after
embarked for America, and arrived on the 9th of August, 1816. It is
hardly necessary to say that this event had a most auspicious bearing on the
interests of the institution.
The eight months immediately following their arrival in this counfry, were
spent in endeavouring to enlist public sympathy and patronage in aid of
the institution. On the 15th of April, 1817, — after two years had been
given to making the requisite preparation for a permanent establishment,
the Asylum for the deaf and dumb was opened in Hartford, by an appro-
priate and beautiful discourse delivered by Mr. Gallaudet in the Centre
church, from the words of Isaiah — " Then the eyes of the blind shall be
opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped. Then shall the lame man leap
as a hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing ; for in the wilderness waters
shall break out and streams in the desert."
I
THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET. Oil
From this time, for more than a dozen years, Mr. Gallaudet's labours in
connection with the asylum were intense and unintermitted. Besides all
that he accomplished in the way of direct instruction, he was accustomed,
in company with Mr. Clerc, and sometimes a class of pupils, to present the
claims of the deaf mute before the Legislatures of the several New
England States, in the Halls of Congress, in the large cities of the North-
ern and Middle States, and by every means in his power to elevate the
institution in the public regards. When he saw that the great work on
which he had expended so much thought and effort was accomplished, in the
establishment of the institution upon a permanent basis, he felt that he had
a right so far to consult his own health and comfort as to resign his place
as Principal ; and accordingly he did resign it in 1830, though he still took
an active interest as director in its affairs, and continued one of its most
vigilant and efficient friends to the last.
For several years after he left the Asylum, he was engaged chiefly in
various literary enterprises, and in helping forward, by every means in his
power, whatever pertained to the great cause of Christian education. His
judgment on all subjects of this kind, matured as it was by a large experi-
ence, accurate observation, and profound philosophical reflection, was
regarded as well nigh oracular; and not only his opinion but his active
efforts were often put in requisition, in aid of the various educational move-
ments of the day. In 1837, the county of Hartford erected a prison on a
plan which admitted of the prisoners receiving appropriate moral and reli-
gious instruction. Mr. Grallaudet not only sympathized deeply with the
movement, but volunteered the services of a Chaplain without compensa-
tion. For eight years he continued to perform religious service every Sab-
bath morning, besides making frequent visits to the prison during the
week, — and always, in cases where he had reason to believe that his pre-
sence and prayers were especially desired.
In June, 1838, he became connected as Chaplain with the Connecticut
Retreat for the Insane ; and he continued to hold this ofiice, and to dis-
charge its duties with most exemplary fidelity, as well as consummate wis-
dom, till the close of his life.
Among the religious and benevolent enterprises in which Mr. Gallaudet
took a special interest, was the American Tract Society, of the Connecticut
branch of which he was for many years President ; the American Peace
Society, whose great object he endeavoured to promote by diffusing infor-
mation concerning the anti- Christian tendency of the war-spirit, and incul-
cating upon both individuals and communities the peaceable spirit of
Christianity ; and the American Colonization Society, which he looked upon
as the most hopeful instrumentality for elevating the condition of the
African race, and diffusing the blessings of the Gospel throughout one of
the darkest portions of the earth.
Mr. Gallaudet's labours, though often prosecuted in a state of health in
which many persons would have found an apology for absolute inaction,
were yet rarely intermitted even for a brief period, from the time that he
first entered on his philanthropic career till he was prostrated by the
disease that brought him to his grave. On the night of the 20th of July,
1851, he was attacked by an aggravated form of dysentery, which his con-
stitution had not sufficient strength to resist. He lingered in the exercy
of great patience and joyful hope until the 10th of September, whe;
g]^2 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
passed gently into the world unseen, in the sixty-fourth year of his age.
The tidings of his death spread general sadness abroad ; and well they
might ; for the world had parted with one of its purest, most gifted, and
most accomplished minds, as well as one of its rarest benefactors. A Dis-
course commemorative of the life, character and services of Mr. Gallaudet,
was addressed to the citizens of Hartford on the 7th of January, 1852, by
Henry Barnard, L. L. D., which was published, with a copious Appendix.
It is a pamphlet of great interest, not only for its graceful and graphic
delineation of Mr. Glallaudet's character, but for its valuable historical
details.
Mr. Gallaudet was married on the 10th of June, 1821, to Sophia Fowler,
of Guilford, a deaf mute, who was a member of the first class of pupils
instructed by him at the Asylum. They had eight children, — four sons and
four daughters. One of his sons, Thomas, is (1856) an Episcopal clergy-
man in the city of New York, and another, Edward M., is now a member
of Trinity College, Hartford, with the expectation of being permanently
connected with the American Asylum for the deaf and dumb.
The following is a list of Mr. Gallaudet's publications : — A Discourse on
the opening of the American Asylum, 1817. Discourses on various
points of Christian faith and practice ; most of which were delivered in the
chapel of the Oratoire in Paris in 1816, 1818. Early History of the
American Asylum ; in a Letter to the Editor of the North American
Review, 1819. Papers on Deaf-Mute instruction published in the Chris-
tian Observer, London, 1819. An Address in behalf of the Sandwich
Islands, 1819. An Address at the annual meeting of the Hartford Tract
Society, 1820. A Discourse at the dedication of the American Asylum,
1822. A Plea in behalf of the deaf and dumb, delivered in the principal
cities in New England, 1824. Papers " on Oral language and the language
of Signs," and "on the language of Signs auxiliary to the Christian mis-
sionary," 1826. Remarks on Teachers' Seminaries, 1826. A Discourse
on Female Education, pronounced at the dedication of the Hartford Female
Seminary, 1827. A Statement with regard to the Moorish pupil Abdahl
llalihaman, 1828. An Address in behalf of the American Colonization
Society, 1829. Annual Reports of the American Asylum from 1817 to
1830. The Child's Book on the Soul, 1830. The ChiLl'sBook on Repen-
tance. The Child's Book of Bible Stories. Youth's Book on Natural
Theology. Lecture on the principles of Association in giving dignity to
Christian character, 1833. Every day Christian, 1836. Public Schools,
public blessings, 1837. Schoolmaster's Manual: an American edition of
Dunn's Principles of Teaching, 1838. The Child's Picture, Defining, and
Reading Book. The Mother's Primer. The Practical Spelling Book, with
Reading Lessons. The School and Family Dictionary and Illustrative
Definer. Scripture Biography, published by the American Tract Society, —
namely: Adam to Jacob, 1838. Joseph, 1834. Moses, 2 vols., 1839.
Joshua and Judges. Ruth and Samuel. David and Saul, 1843. Solomon,
Josiah, Jonah. He also contributed many important articles to the Ameri-
can Annals of Education, the Common School Journal, and the Mother's
Magazine.
Mr. Gallaudet was honoured with the degree of L. L. D., by the Western
Keserve College in 1851.
THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET. Ql^
FROM THE REV. HORACE HOOKER.
Hartford, October 23, 1851.
Dear Sir: I cannot find it in my heart to refuse your request, and yet I feel
utterly incompetent to the task you set me. I had opportunities abundant to
study the character of our lamented friend, but I have no skill in graphic paint-
ing. The feM^ thoughts I shall throw out, you can use in any manner that will
best suit your convenience. I shall follow the order of suggestions in your
letter.
In stature, Mr. Gallaudet was, as you know, below the ordinary height. In
person, he was erect and dignified. In manners, he was cultivated and courte-
ous; and though not specially formal, I think he would strike a stranger as some-
what particular. He was always attentive to the proprieties of life, which he
well understood; and I never knew him betrayed by any sudden impulse to
wound the feelings of others by a word or look. In this respect he bore more
resemblance than most men of the present age to your venerable friend. Dr. Mil-
ler. No one had a keener insight than he into the characters of men ; but he
seldom alluded to the defects of individuals, even in the most unrestrained inter-
course.
His conversational powers were of a high order. He had a command of lan-
guage such as few possess. He was humourous often, but not distinguished for
sprightliness and brilliant flashes of wit. Rich in ingenious speculations and
practical remarks, and enlivened by apposite anecdotes gathered from a wide
acquaintance with books and men, his conversation was ever entertaining and
instructive. He excelled almost any one I ever knew in gaining the good-will of
children, winning their confidence by his kind and benevolent manner, and fast-
ening their attention by the simplicity and pertinence of his instructions. Often
in our walks he had a pleasant word for the little boys and girls we met, or
dropped some good counsel which showed them he felt an interest in their wel-
fare.
You know, I presume, his sympathy with the poor, the sick, and the unfortu-
nate. I think there is not another individual among us, who could more appro-
priately be said to possess the religion which consists in visiting the fotherless
and the widows in their affliction. He was often made the almoner of the
bounties of others to the needy, because he knew their wants from personal
observation. Practical benevolence was the distinguishing trait in his character.
The field of human wretchedness which some visit from a sense of dutj^, he
delighted to explore, and never seemed so happy as when inventing schemes to
relieve the suffering or to raise the fallen. How many volumes have I heard him
utter, in our rambles in the outskirts of the city, respecting institutions for the
reformation of the intemperate, long before they were publicly advocated, and
how many ingenious plans have I heard him devise for institutions to shelter and
give employment to the discharged prisoner, until he can regain his character and
the confidence of the community. I can hardly realize that such institutions are
not in being, — so vividly were they sketched and so minutely were all the details
presented to the mind.
His sympath)^ for the erring, whether in conduct or opinion, was peculiar. The
rigid and austere might sometimes mistake his charity for laxncss, but it was
nearer akin to the kindness of Him who came '* to seek and to save that which
was lost." His candour was not indifference. While he was firm in his own
opinions, he was not har.sh in judging those of others. No man among us was
more highly esteemed by all denominations than he. This arose in part from his
strict regard to the courtesies of life and the respect with which he treated every
one's opinion and religious forms.
(}14 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
He never took the freeman's oath, nor oxercisod the elective franchise, until he
was sixt}' 3'cars of age. This was not because he had no settled opinions on
political subjects, or was indilferent to the welfare of the country, lie was con-
scientious in thinking that he could do more good to his fellow men by taking no
part in such matters, as thus he could secure the co-operation of all parties in
promoting his benevolent schemes.
Mr. Gallaudet was indefatigable in executing, as he was in devising, his pro-
jects. He had a rare sagacity and tact in gaining others over to his views. It
was done in so quiet and noiseless a way and with such uniform success, that to
some it might seem the result of management. He was eminently a wise man
in practical matters, especially in measures for carrying forward benevolent
enterprises. One cause of his success was his uncommon attention to the
minutiae of whatever business he had in hand. On this he was accustomed to
say depends a great deal in attaining your object. He did not stop with a good
plan, but saw for himself that ever}'' thing, however seemingly unimportant,
was done at the proper time.
He Avas methodical to an extent I have rarel}' found in literary men. Some-
times I have thought he was needlessly so; but he was not. He carried the
virtue of method a great waj's, but not to excess. He had a habit of promptness
in keeping his engagements, which I wish was more common. He thought it
neither just nor Christian for an individual to delay the business of a Jjoard or
any other meeting, nierel}' for his private convenience or pleasure.
Mr. Gallaudet, though a "constitutional projector," was cautious beyond
most men. He saw so clearly the possible results of an action or measure, that
he was slow to enter upon a new project. I do not know but that he might, in
later life, have shrunk even from that grand enterprise with which his name and
his fame are so closely and honourably associated. His caution saved him froTn
embarking in wild enterprises, but when he was once engaged in a project, he
would not timidly forsake it. He would cling to it under discouragements
which few could long resist. He had great tenacity of purpose.
When Mr. (lallaudet returned from his visit to Europe for the Deaf and Dumb,
he was one of our most favourite preachers. No man could command a better
audience or was listened to with more pleasure. His language w^as polished, his
imagination chaste, his manner graceful, his thoughts select, well-arranged, and
poetical. I think his preaching was more characterized by persuasiveness than
force; the hearer was borne along by a constantly swelling tide, rather than
swept away by a sudden billow. It is possible that, in later years, he was led
to simplify his thoughts and extend his illustrations at the expense of force.
As a M'riter of booi<s for the young, 'Sir. Gallaudet had many excellent quali-
ties. Familiarity with the Deaf and Dumb mind qualified him to be a " teacher
of babes," — a high office which many think it easy to fill, and yet which so few
can fill well. He Avas fond of analysis, and he had been so accustomed, while
teaching at the Asylum, to take a complex idea to pieces and exhibit and illus-
trate its several parts, that few were his equals in making an abstruse subject
intelligible and interesting to the young. " The Child's Book on the Soul," will
readily occur to you as elucidating this remark. Several of hi.s books have been
translated into dilferent foreign languages.
My information respecting his character as a teacher of the Deaf and Dumb, I
suppose is no better than yours, — .so T will merely say that he not only introduced
the art of instructing the Deaf 'and Dumb into this country, but the elevation of
the art here above what it has attained in Europe is perhaps due to him more
than to any other man. As to his Chaplaincy in the Retreat for the Insane, his
fidelity and success are best estimated by the sorrow which the patients manifest
at their loss. His philosophical acuteness, his kindness of manner and sympa-
thy with suffering, his gentleness and self-possession, his nuAvearied devotion to
THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET. 625
the bodily, mental, and spiritual good of the inmates, liis quiet, hopeful, deep-
toned piety, all combined to qualify him for the station, and his death has left a
chasm which every one feels that it will not be easy to fill.
Very truly yours,
H. HOOKER.
CYRUS YALE.=*
1814—1854.
Cyrus Yale, the son of Josiah and Huth Yate, was born in Lee, Mass.,
May 17, 1786. His father was a farmer ; and the son divided his early
years between labouring on the farm, teaching a school in his native town,
and preparing for College under the instruction of his pastor, the Rev. Dr.
Hyde. He became a member of the Congregational church in Lee in 1806.
Having passed through Williams College with distinguished reputation for
talents and diligence, as well as exemplary conduct, he graduated with the
highest honours of his class, in 1811. He commenced the study of Theo-
logy under Dr. Porter, then of Washington, Conn.; afterwards Professor
in the Theological Seminary at Andover; but subsequently placed himself
under the instruction of Dr. Yates, at that time the minister of East Hart-
ford. He was licensed to preach by the Hartford Xoith Association;
and was ordained pastor of the church in New Hartford, Conn., on the 12th
of October, 1814. I
Mr. Yale continued to labour with great assiduity and acceptance among
his people for twenty years. On the 24th of December, 1834, he was dis-
missed, at his own request, by an ecclesiastical council, with a view to being
installed at Ware, Mass. He seems, however, to have been little satisfied
with the change ; for, in the autumn of 1837, he returned to New Hartford,
resumed his pastoral charge thei'e, and lived in great harmony and useful-
ness with his people until his death.
Mr. Yale had a good constitution, and enjoyed excellent health, until
within a few weeks of his death. He preached his last sermon on the 2d of
April, 1854. On the 4th he had a fit of apoplexy, producing a partial
paralysis of both body and mind. He gradually failed from that time until
the 21st of May, when he rested from his labours. The little he said during
his last days showed that he was fully resigned to his Heavenly Father's
will, and felt prepared for the momentous change which was approaching.
The portions of Scripture which were frecjucntly read to him, by his request,
were the 103d Psalm and the 14th chapter of John — he seemed to derive
great comfort from them, and several times exclaimed, as they were read, —
" Precious truths." His funeral sermon was preached by the Rev. Frederick
Marsh of Winchester.
Mr. Yale was married, November 9, 1813, to Asenath Rradlcy of his
native place. They had nine children, — one son who is a practising physician
in Ware, Mass.; and one daughter who is married to the Rev. E. R. Beadle
of Hartford. Mrs. Yale died at Ware, after a short illness, December 14,
1854.
• MSS. from his family.
(526 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
The following is a list of Mr. Yale's publications : — A Sermon at the
ordination of Harley Good\Yin at New Marlborough, Mass., 1826. A Ser-
mon preached at Torringford on the death of Sophia Eliza Hawley, 1827.
An Address delivered before the Adelphic Society of Williams College, 1827.
The Life of the Kev. Jeremiah Hallock, 1828. A Plea for union in erect-
ing a house of God at New Hartford, 1828. A Sermon on the scriptural
evidence of a living faith, (without date). An Address delivered before the
Hartford County Peace Society, 1832. A Thanksgiving Sermon at Ware,
1835. A Sermon delivered at Canton at the funeral of an only child of Dr.
Kassan, 1839. A Discourse before the North Consociation of Litchfield
County at their annual meeting in Goshen, 1849. A Miniature of the Life
of the Rev. Alvan Hyde, D. D., (without date). Biographical Sketches of
the ministers of Litchfield County after the year ISOU, delivered on occa-
sion of the Convention to commemorate the Centennial anniversary of the
primitive organization of the North and South Consociations in that County,
1852.
FROM THE REV. JOSEPH ELDRIDGE.
Norfolk, Conn., February 9, 1856.
My dear Sir: The memory of the Eev. Cyrus Yale is very dear to his minis-
terial brethren who had the happiness of his intimate acquaintance. I knew him
well, as we were, for more than fifteen years, members of the same Association
of ministers; and the grateful respect with which I call to mind his many
admirable qualities renders it a pleasure to me to comply with your request.
The simple mention of his name calls up before my imagination his familiar
form and features. Rather above the middle height, his figure was massive.
His head was large and thickly covered with curly black hair. His broad, full,
uawrinkled face had, notwithstanding its size, a peculiarly refined and aflection-
ate expression. Ills manner in private conversation and in public address was
such as one naturally anticipated from his appearance. In society he was retiring
and respectful. An attentive listener, he spoke in gentle tones, and never
indulged in banter or boisterous merriment. When with intimate friends, and
perfectly at his ease, his conversation was often illumined with gleams of genu-
ine humour; and no one appreciated better, or relished more keenly, a fljish of
good-natured wit. In such circumstances he would relate an anecdote, or describe
an incident, with great power.
He was endowed with quick sensibilities of the gentler sort. A touching story
or incident would immediately bring the moisture to his eyes. Yet, though quick
to feel, he was slow to wrath — a harsh word, a bitter retort, never fell from his
lips. While kind and courteous to the present, he never disparaged tiie absent.
No spark of envy or jealous}' seemed to exist in his bosom. He rejoiced
unaffectedly in the attainments, tlie reputation, ami the success, of his brethren.
His modesty was extraordinary. CJenerally he had to be urged, — sometimes
almost forced, to take the positions to which he was entitled b}' his age, his expe-
rience, and his talents. This .';hrinking sensitiveness was never overcome — it
attended him through life. If, however, any should thence infer that he must
have been timid, the)* would be mistaken. He possessed true moral courage.
Let any important interest of religion or nioralit}' be in jeopardy, and he would
be found among the first to come to the rescue. On such occasions he was bold;
and it was touching to witness the struggle between his constitutional diffidence
and high principle, and to behold the victory of the latter over the former.
His piety, most undoubted, exhibited a lovely union of intellect and emotion
[n this respect, his public di.scourses served as a just exponent of his own reli
CYRUS YALE. 617
gions character. They ■n-erc full of truth, clearly stated and siLstaincd, yet ."^o
pre.sented that Avhile the understanding was eidightened and the rea.son .satisfied,
the heart was also moved. His manner in the pulpit was uncommonly tender
and persuasive. His enunciation was distinct, his intonations somewhat plain-
tive; and on the whole he seemed better fitted to announce the mercy of the
Cross than to depict the terrors of Sinai. He was the honoured instrument of
many revivals of religion, some of them of great power. His influence over his
brethren was eminently favourable to their growth in grace and their increased
fidelity and usefulness.
With sincere regard, truly yours,
J. ELDRIDGE. Je.
DANIEL POOR, D. D.*
1814—1855.
Daniel Poor, a son of Deacon Joseph and Mary Poor, was born in
Danvers, Mass., June 27, 1789. His parents, who were both distinguished
examples of Christian excellence, reared a family of twelve children to
respectability and usefulness. His father's occupation was that of a tanner,
which then, as now, characterized the place where he resided. Daniel was
his youngest son. He was early marked by sobriety, thoughtfulness, and a
love of reading. He became hopefully converted at the early age of ten,
and not long after joined the church. Even at this period, his mind was
drawn towards the missionary work by perusing the journals of Vanderkemp
and Kercherer, missionaries to the Cape of Good Hope ; and he expressed
a desire to imitate their example. As if in anticipation of his future calling,
he often employed the hours he passed in tending the bark mill in his
father's tan-yard, in tlie composition of short sermons, which he, in the
evening, would commit to writing, and which are still extant.
This decided aptitude for study induced his father to give him a liberal
education. Accordingly, at the age of seventeen, in the year 1806, he
commenced his preparatory course in the Andover Phillips Academy, under
the tuition of Mr. Newman. Here he remained a most diligent and suc-
cessful student until the spring of 1809, when he joined the Sophomore class
in Dartmouth College. Throughout his whole college course he maintained
a very high standing as a scholar and the most exemplary walk as a Chris-
tian ; while his uniform cheerfulness and good-humour served to render him
a universal favourite.
On leaving College, he went to the Theological Seminary at Andover,
entering in the autumn of 1811. Here, after mature deliberation, he
formed the purpose of becoming a missionary ; and he prosecuted his studies
with an absorbing zeal, with tliis as his ultimate and commanding object.
On the 21st of June, 1815, he was ordained in company witli Mill?, Rich-
ards, Warren, Bardwell, and Meigs, in the Presbyterian cliurch in New-
buryport, — the sermon on the occasion being preached by the Rev. Dr.
Worcester. On the 9lh of October following, he was married to Susan
• MS. from his son. Rev. D. TV. Poor.
Vol. II. 78
(318 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Bulfinch of Salem ; ainl on tho 23d of tlie same month, with all of the
above company, excepting Mr. Mills, he sailed in the bark Dryad from
Newburyport for Ceylon, where he arrived, March 22d of the following
year, landing at Colombo.
It was not long before he took Jiis station at TilUpally, Jaffna, with his
fellow missionaries located at short distances from him in the same district.
lie made rapid acquisitions in the Tamul, notwithstanding all the diilicul-
ties attendant on the fuuuding of a new mission, and in less than a year
ventured to preach his first sermon. On the 7th of May, 1821, Mrs. Poor
was remove'd by death in triumphant hope of a glorious immortality, leaving
three infant children, — one boy and two girls. This bereavement, dark
and trying as it was, was nevertheless brightened with cheering blessings.
The exhibition of a strung Christian hope in the dying hour was a powerful
testimony to the truth of the Gospel, which resulted in the conversion of
several of the natives, who saw and wondered at this strange sight.
Mr. Poor was married, a second time, on the 21st of January, 182o, to
Ann Knight of Stroud, England, who was sent out to labour with her bruther,
the Rev. J. Knight, by the Church Missionary Society. In July following,
he removed to Batticotta to take charge of the Mission Seminary, which
was to be opened there for the training of native youth, in the higher
branches of English, and familiar science, and particularly in a knowledge
of the Scriptures, with a view to their acting the part of catechists and
preachers. The charge of this institution thus became his chief employ-
ment, until the commencement of 1835. Yet he was far from being exclu-
sively devoted to teaching during these years. It devolved upon him to
supply the pulpit half the time at the station. He was constant also in
holding meetings at the village school bungalows, two or three evenings in
the week, and also in itinerating, as license was afforded, into more distant
portions of the country. The Seminary flourished under his charge.
Instruction there was freciuently attended with conversions. Revivals of
unusual power occurred also from time to time. An influence likewise
went out from the institution far and wide through the community, arresting
the attention of the learned classes, and weakening the confidence of the
people generally in the correctness of their Puranas. The Heathen were
constrained to confess the superiority of the mi.ssionaries over their own
long trusted guides, and tho ditficulties in tlie way of approaching them fast
melted away. Besides the advantage thus gained, a corps of able, well
trained Christian teachers was soon secured, who manned the stations in
the district, and proved valuable assistants to the missionaries. The estab-
lishment and maturing of this important institution, well designated by one
of the natives, as " the eye of Jaffna," has been considered Mr. Poor's
great work in the first half of his missionary career.
Having thus secured a good character and extensive reputation for the
Seminary, he was ready to consigu the management of it into other hands,
and betake himself to the more congenial employment of preaching the
Gospel exclusively. Accordingly, in March, 1836, he, by advice of the
mission, removed to Madura on the Continent, for the purpose of aiding the
brethren labouring there. Ilis preaching and conversation in this new field
soon began to excite attentiun and hopeful inquiry, especially among the
intelligent and influential classes. By an adroit use of means, he drew them
in crowds to listen to his instruction, and, before the close of the year, there
DANIEL POOR. 619
were opened, maiuly through his agency, in this large and idolatrous city,
together with its adjacent villages, thirty-seven schools, containing eleven
hundred and forty-uiue boys, and sixty-five girls. His plan was to mount
his horse every morning, and make it his first business to visit all these
schools in order. Oftentimes seated upon his docile animal, turning it into
a portable pulpit, he would address audiences of adults, who counted upon
meeting him at the bungalow. In this way he kept up a constant inter-
course with the people, and seemed always to be before them. He threw him-
self directly as a forming element into the society of the place, and rendered
himself essential to its welfare. All classes were brought under his influ-
ence,— the young and old, learned and ignorant, and he improved every
opportunity to preach Jesus unto them. Science and education were valued
only so far as they opened an entrance for Gospel truth. In this delightful
work he was soon cliccked by the curtailment in missionary operations
occasioned by the pecuniary embarrassments in 1837; and how he lamented
the reverses of that year will never be forgotten by those who heard liim at
the meeting of the Board in Pittsburgh in 1849. Crippled in his means of
usefulness, he yet worked on, as best he could, "bating not one jot of heart
or hope" and looking for a return of prosperity. Better times soon came.
Funds were contributed both at home and in India. The schools were
restored and increased in number, and he entered with new zeal upon his
work. In 18-10, there were numbered in all the schools of the mission at
its three stations, no less than three thousand three hundred and sixteen
scholars. Twelve additions were made to the church that year.
In consequence of a failure in health, he found it necessary in 1841, to
return to Ceylon, and this too, at a crisis which called for great iucrease of
labourers. Arrived at Ceylon, he occupied the station at Tillipally, where
he lived at the first. His old acquaintances here flocked around him,
rejoicing at his return. He addressed them all a circular letter, advising
them of his aims, his hopes, his plans, and closed by pressing upon them
anew the Gospel message. Two peculiarities characterized his manner of
working now. One was the visiting of the people in their own homes,
taking them in order, and then directly, in close, personal interview, urging
upon them the truth as it is in Jesus. These visits were always closed with
prayer. In this way he got access to the hearts and minds of thousands
who could not otherwise have been approached. Neighbours and friends
often clustered together in one house, forming a sort of meeting,
which transferred itself from house to house, as he passed on, morning by
morning. Another feature of his work was his assembling his Sabbath
congregations in classes, — having tlie children by themselves, the women by
themselves, and the men by themselves, in successive hours, thus enabling
him to address each company in a style and manner suited best for its
edification. These efforts were carried on in addition to the regular opera-
tion of the mission, in the management of its schools, in the conduct of its
bungalow meetings, in the training of teachers and catechists, and in the
building up of the station church. These extensive labours wore attemled
with marked success. Many were hopefully converted, and much trutii
was put in active circulation.
In the spring of 1848, it was decided, in view of his failing strength and
the advantages of a visit to this country, both to himself and the cause of
missions, that he have leave to return home. His journey was by way of
g20 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
England, and he landed in New York, on tlio 15tli of September of that
year. He was received by the churches with the wannest enthusiasm, and,
during his stay in the country, did much, in various ways, in aid of the great
cause to which his life was devoted. lie was present and spoke at the anni-
versaries in New York and Boston, at two anniversaries of the Board, — at
Pittsfield and Oswego, at Associations, Consociations, Greneral Assemblies,
and College Commencements, from Maine to Ohio. He was all alive to the
great subjects of the day, and was ever gathering and imparting information,
by letter or conversation.
After two years of canvassing and recruiting, he returned to his labours,
embarking from Boston in the autumn of 1850. On his arrival, he settled
at Mampy, carrying on here the same system of operations which he had
adopted at Tillipally. It appears from one of his later letters written in
1854, that he had just finished his three thousand four hundred and thirtieth
visit among the people. Preaching in private and public, in the church, in
the school, in the family, along the wayside, was his ceaseless vocation. In
connection with this, he kept up his supervision of every other department
of labour. He looked after the interests of the Seminary, wrote for "the
Morning Star," co-operated in Tract and Bible and Temperance Societies,
maintained an extensive correspondence with natives, and English residents,
and friends at home, endeavouring in every way to promote the cause of
his Master. One measure of his that deserves special notice, was the erection
of village churches, at the expense, at least in part, of the natives. One of
the last things he did before leaving Ceylon, was to lay the corner-stone of
iho, first village church erected under the auspices of the mission, and one
of the first things, on his return, was to dedicate this church. Five more
were before long in process of erection, securing the ground where they
stood, for the Gospel. These were places for stated preaching by the native
ministers, who had been reared in the Seminary. In these, therefore, he
found the labours of forty years ago, maturing into rich and precious
fruit. Nothing delighted him more than the sight of these buildings, going up
as the centres of sanctifying infiueuce for that crowded territory, where,
through the voice of native preachers, the Gospel should be proclaimed long
after he was dead.
The time of his departure was nearer than he anticipated. It had always
been his desire to live until seventy years had exhausted all the energy he
possessed. But in the very fulness of his strength, the cholera, which was
fearfully ravaging Jaffna, arrested his labours, February 2, 1855, and after
the short illnc-s of twenty-four hours, he sank to his rest, with his armour on,
and exclamations of joy upon his lips. Mr. Spaulding preached his funeral
sermon at Tillipally where ho was buried. The lamentation over him by
the natives. Heathen and Christian, is represented as being very great. His
kindness, his faithfulness, generosity, learning, piety, won him the esteem
of all ranks and classes. Even the Brahmins revered his character. One
of them is reported to have said that "to drink even the water in which
Mr. Poor's feet were washed would be enough to merit Heaven." And
when it was known that the disease had done its work, there was one burst
of grief from the hearts of those who had anxiously watched the issue, and
of the still larger number who were suddenly smitten by the sad tidings.
DANIEL POOR. 621
FR03I THE REV. NATHAN LORD, D.D.
Dartmouth College, June -24, 1856.
My dear Sir: By reason of absence and many engagements, I have been
unable to send you, at an earlier day, my recollections of the missionary Poor.
I knew him first as a student in Theology, at Andover. He was a year my
senior. But circumstances led me to an early intimacy with him. We were
fully conversant with each other till he left the country; and had occasional cor-
respondence till his death. Immediately on his only visit home, I found him out
at the place of his nativitj^ . The mutual recognition, after a separation of thirty
years, was immediate, and we fell upon each others' necks.
Mr. Poor was an Apostle John in our brotherhood at Andover, — the most
loving, and the most loved, of our then small company. He was easily distinguish-
able by his low stature, his broad shoulders, his bending head, his light and
graceful step, his costume alwaj^s plain, but neat and fashioned to that of the
last preceding generation, his somewhat freckled, but always brilliant, face,
his gleaming and dissolving ej-e, his air of indescribable suavity and gentleness,
and his lively and winning speech. His form had not symmetrj', nor his counte-
nance beauty, nor his manners secular retinement. But whenever he appeared
in anj' circle, evil spirits fled away, and he was felt to be the genius of the place.
All instinctively yielded, and he unconsciously presided: yet not he, but the
heavenly love that shone out in every look, and word, and movement, and
insensibly assimilated all things to itself.
He was a man of noble intellect, and one of the best of scholars. He read
whatever belonged to his course, understood his authors, analyzed their different
methods and systems, and subjected them rigidly to his infallible criterion, — the
Bible. No master could ever lead him but his only Master in Heaven ; and no com-
mon man would ever presume to question the accuracy of his knowledge or the
soundness of his judgments. Yet we never thought of him as an intellectual
man. In that day merely intellectual men were not much thought of at all. We
were drawn deeper, — to his loving heart, which, however, always kept his active
faculties in vigorous and harmonious play, yet subordinate and subservient to
the simplicities of revealed truth. He affected not the wisdom that Paul con-
demns, but the wisdom of fiith. We thought of liim not as a philologist, a
critic, a rhetorician, an adept in logic or metaphysics, though he was behind
none, and could have gained the highest honours in any of these departments, if
such had been his ain^ ; but as an oracle through whom Christ's loving spirit
spoke forth the mind of God according to his word.
He never became otherwise; never less of a believer nor more of a philoso-
pher: and his faith looked down upon what many dignify under that deceitful
name, with perfect intelligence of it, but lofty disregard. He knew what it was;
but he also knew what it was not, and Mhat was infmitch' better. He looked
with displeasure upon all affectations of it among his brethren. On his visit to
this country, shortly before his death, he was struck and greatly offended by
the strained efTorts of many preaciiers Avho had grown up during his absence, to
interpret Scripture, and expound the Divine Government, by the speculative
reason. "If they will preach so," he once said tome, " let them go to the
East whence this kind proceeded, and learn its highest types. They are but
tyros in comparison with the old Brahmins."
Yet he made more of his Tamil schools as means of propagating the faith, than
I should have expected of such a mind; or, as I think, he M'ould have done, if they
had not grown up under his paternal care. He was, however, perfectly honest in
telling what he had not realized from them in fact; and he never exaggerated his
actual successes, either in his schools or in his ministry, for the sake of effect
upon tho churches at home. But his hopes respecting them took their colour
622 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
rather from the fervour of his love than from his experience. He trusted that
what he greatly desired would come to pass, though neither his general views of
pro2)agandism, nor the known course of Providence, justified his benevolent
expectations. I do not remember that we ever disputed on any other point.
And 1 could wish that all disputants might be as good-tempered as we were in
that respect.
His course was wise, benevolent, dignified, and consistent, through life. I do
jiot believe that a better taught, a truer-hearted, or a more devoted and exemplary,
missionary has ever gone out from our churches, lie had but one object in life, —
to save as manjr as God should please from among the Heathen, and swell the
triumphs of the King of Glory. He never lost sight of it, on the land or watcrs;
till God called him to his rest. Greater purity, unselfishness, unworldliness,
greater simplicity of faith, and confidence towards God, I have not known. He
did nothing, and he wanted nothing, but for Christ and the souls of men. When
this College sent him, spontaneously, a few years ago, an honorary Diploma of
Doctor in Divinity, he refused it, saying that it was not for such as he; and
adding, with his characteristic frankness and good-nature, that " he, the rather,
ought not to accept it, because Alma Mater might not have conferred it if she had
known his heresy." But she did know it; or, otherwise, would have thought
it no disparagement to his intellectual ability, or his moral worth, that he
should believe as he did, in the premillennial coming of his Saviour. Whether
he was right or wrong in that respect, though it be made a question, yet it is out
of question that, if Christ have a people in this world, he was one of them, and
among the chief; or, that whenever, or however the Saviour shall appear, he
also will appear with Him in glory.
I am, very truly and with highest regards, yours,
N. LORD.
PLINY FISK *
1815—1825.
Pliny Fisk was a native of Shelburne, Mass., and was born June 24,
1792. His parents, Ebenezer and Sarah Fisk, were in moderate worldly
circumstances, but were persons of great moral and Christian worth. From
his earliest childhood, he evinced an amiable and rather a thoughtful dispo-
sition, though he was not destitute of vivacity and good-humour. His early
advantages, which were only those furnished by a common district school,
were very diligently improved ; and, with a remarkable habit of persever-
ance, which seemed to grow immediately out of his peculiar constitution,
his progress in the different branches of study, especially the mathematics,
was unusually rapid.
At the age of sixteen, his mind was directed with great earnestness to the
subject of his own salvation ; and having, as he believed, entered on the
religious life, be made a public profession of his faith, and joined the church
in his native place, under the care of the Rev. Theophilus Packard.
In connection with the change which he underwent in his feelings on
the subject of religion, originated the desire, and if Providence should
• Bond's Memoir.
FLINT FISK. 623
favour it, the purpose, of devoting himself to the Christian ministry.
Accordingly, with the approbation of his parents, he commenced his prepa-
ration for College, under the instruction of the liev. Moses Hallock of
Plainfield, Mass. In 1811, he was admitted to an advanced standing in
Middlebury College.
During his collegiate course, he was distinguished rather for his great
dcvotedness to the cause of Christ and his eminent attainments in piety,
than for any remarkable success as a scholar: indeed, there is reason to
believe that he allowed his zeal for the promotion of religion to interfere
somewhat with his appropriate College duties. He was graduated in the
year 1814; and, having been obliged to incur something of a debt, in
order to meet his necessary expenses, he commenced the study of Theology
under his pastor, the Rev. Mr. Packard, instead of going immediately to
the Andover Seminary, as his wishes would have prompted. He was
licensed to preach by the Franklin Association, in January, 1815 ; and,
almost immediately after, accepted an invitation to supply a vacant pulpit
in Wilmington, Vt. Here he laboured for some time ; and his labours were
instrumental, not only in restoring union to a distracted church, but in
bringing about an extensive revival of religion.
Mr. Fisk, almost as soon as he determined to study for the ministry,
meditated the purpose of devoting himself to a mission among the Heathen ;
and this purpose he never lost sight of in any of his subsequent arrange-
ments. That he might enjoy the best opportunities of qualifying himself
for such a destination, he became, in November, 1815, a member of the
Andover Seminary. Here he made respectable progress in each of the vari-
ous departments of study ; though it was his moral, rather than his intellec-
tual, power, that chiefly excited attention. It was an occasion of some embar-
rassment to him, that his respected Professors had expressed an opinion,
if not positively adverse to his going abroad for a field of labour, yet much
more favourable to his remaining at home, either in the capacity of a Domes-
tic Missionary or an agent for Benevolent Societies; but, with all the
respect which he bore for them, he felt constrained to adhere to his original
purpose. Accordingly, he offered himself to the American Board of Mis-
sions, to be employed under their direction, in any part of the Pagan world
which they might designate. In September, 1818, the Palestine mission
was established, and Mr. Fisk, together with his intimate friend and class-
mate, Levi Parsons, M'as appointed to that important station.
It was deemed expedient by the Board that Mr. Fisk, before leaving the
country, should make a tour through some of the Southern States, with a
view to communicate missionary intelligence, and to collect funds in aid of
the missionary cause. He aceor.lingly received ordination in the Taberna-
cle church, Salem, November 5, 1818, and shortly after sailed from Boston
for Savannah. On his arrival there, he met with much kindness, though he
had to encounter some unexpected obstacles. He laboured in that part of
the country, during the winter and spring, dividing his time between South
Carolina and Georgia, diffusing information, forming various Missionary
Societies, and collecting a considerable amount of money. He returned to
the North by land, and at Washington made the acquaintance of John
Qaincy Adams, then Secretary of State, who kindly offered to furnish hini
with letters that might be useful to him on his intended mission. He
(524 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
reached Massachusetts in July, aud went immediately to Andover, with a
view to continue his studies, till near the time of his embarking for Asia.
Having almost perfected the arrangements for his departure, he went,
towards the close of October, to Shelburne, to take leave of his widowed
father and other friends who resided there. When he had performed this
tender and solemn duty, he proceeded to Boston; and, on the succeeding
Sabbath evening, preached in the Old South church an appropriate and
impressive sermon, which was published. At the same time, the instructions
of the Prudential Committee were read to him and his colleague in the
mission, Mr. Parsons. The next Monday, he met a large assembly at the
monthly concert of prayer; and on the Wednesday following, (November 3,
1819,) he embarked with his colleague, on board the ship Sally Ann, for
Smyrna. After a favourable voyage, the ship reached Malta, on the 23d
of December ; and, having remained there a little more than two weeks, pro-
ceeded onwai'd to Smyrna, where she arrived on the 15th of January.
At Smyrna he was received with great kindness by several persons to
whom he had an introduction. After spending several months here, chiefly
in the study of the languages, he determined to pass the summer at the
Island of Scio, that he might have the advantage of the instruction of Pro-
fessor Bambas, an eminent scholar and teacher, who withal took a deep inte-
rest in the cause of missions. This purpose he fulfilled, and found every
thing in Professor B. that he had anticipated. He remained at Scio about
five months, and returned to Smyrna in the latter part of October. During
this period, he put in circulation thirty-seven thousand Tracts, and forty-one
copies of the Sacred Scriptures.
In November, 1820, Mr. Fisk, in company with Mr. Parsons, made a
journey of great interest, of about three hundred miles, to visit the places
on which stood the Seven Churches of Asia. After they had accomplished
this journey, they came to the conclusion that the interests of the mission
would be best promoted by their being temporarily separated from each
other; — Mr. Parsons proceeding immediately to Syria, with a view to ascer-
tain the most eligible place for a permanent missionary establishment, and
Mr. Fisk remaining at Smyrna, to prosecute his studies and carry forward
his work in the best way he could. Accordingly, on the 5th of December,
the two friends were separated, — Mr. Parsons taking a vessel with a view to
go to the Holy Land. This separation continued during nearly a year, as
Mr. Parsons did not return until the beginning of December. 1821. It was
a season of great trial to Mr. Fisk ; as the revolt of the Greeks from the
Turkish dominion at various points so excited the jealousy and wrath of the
Turks, that they seemed well nigh ripe for a universal massacre ; and not
unfrequently a single day would witness to the assassination of several hun-
dreds. Mr. Fisk, though in circumstances of great jeopardy, continued his
studies, as far as he could, besides performing a considerable amount of
missionary labour.
Mr. Parsons had suffered from severe illness during his absence, and
returned in a somewhat enfeebled state of health. By the advice of his
physician, he resolved to make a journey to Egypt; and Mr. Fisk, unwilling
that he should go alone, determined to accompany him. They embarked
for Alexandria, on the 9th of January, 1822, and within less than a month
after their arrival there, Mr. Fisk had committed his companion in labour
and trial to the grave.
PLINY FISK. 625
Mr. Fisk remained at Alexandria for a few weeks after the death of his
colleague, confining his missionary labours chiefly to the Jews. In March
following, he proceeded up the Nile to Cairo, with an intention to pass
through the desert to India, or to Damietta and Jaffa. At Cairo, he heard
of the arrival of Mr. Temple at Malta, and for reasons which he deemed
sufficient, hastened thither to meet him. At Malta, where he arrived in
April, he continued labouring in various ways till the beginning of the
next year ; and meanwhile he was joined by the Eev. Jonas King, who had
arrived from Paris to take the place of Mr. Parsons. Mr. Fisk and Mr.
King sailed together for Egypt early in January, 182.3, in company with
the celebrated WolflF, who had some years before been converted from Juda-
ism, carrying with them a large quantity of Bibles and Tracts. After
stopping a little at Alexandria, they proceeded to Cairo, and thence to
Upper Egypt, and in twenty-two days arrived at Thebes. They remained
in the country about three months, during which time they distributed
nearly four thousand Tracts, and about nine hundred copies of the Bible,
selling a part, and giving away a part, as circumstances seemed to dictate.
On the 7th of April, 1823, Mr. Fisk started in company with Mr. King
and Mr. ^YolflF for Jerusalem; and, after a most dreary but most interesting
journey through the wilderness, they reached there on the 25th of the same
month. For the first few weeks after their arrival, Mr. Fisk confined his
labours chiefly to Jerusalem and its neighbourhood ; but he subsequently
visited the more distant places, distributing Bibles and Tracts as he could
find opportunity. Having determined to spend the hot season at Mount
Lebanon, he reached there by way of Tyre, Sidon, and Beyroot, on the 16th
of July, after a journey of nearly three weeks from Jerusalem.
In the month of September, the Kev. Mr. Jowett, an English missionary,
having arrived from Egypt, jMr. Fisk went to Beyroot to welcome him; and
they subsequently travelled together to Jerusalem. Here Mr. Fisk resided
for the most part for about eight months. He then returned to Beyroot,
and towards the close of June set out with Mr. King and Mr. Cook, an
English Wesleyan missionary, to visit some of the principal cities in the
North of Syria. Having accomplished this purpose, he returned to Bey-
root, with an intention of passing the winter in Jerusalem. But, instead
of proceeding immediately thither, he and Mr. King took up their residence
at Jaffa, where they arrived on the 29th of January, 1825. Here they
continued till about the close of March ; and when they reached Jerusalem
on the 1st of April, they found the city in a state of great consternation,
on account of the desperate outrages which were constantly committed by
the Pasha's soldiers. Mr. Fisk, however, for some time, kept quietly at
his work ; but, at length, being satisfied that he could labour to better
purpose in some other place, he resolved to return to Beyroot ; notwithstand-
ing, owing to the disturbed state of the country, the journey must be
attended with some hazard. The Sabbath preceding his departure, — the
last that he ever spent in the Holy City, — he preached in Greek, and had
among his hearers ten priests of the Greek order. They left Jerusalem on
the 9th of May, and reached the mission family at Beyroot on the 18th.
Here Mr. Fisk continued prosecuting his studies and his missionary labours,
till the close of his earthly career.
In the autumn after Mr. Fisk's return to Beyroot, a malignant fever pre-
vailed there, which numbered many victims. On the 11th of October ht
Vol. II. 79
526 TRINITARIAN' CONGREGATIONAL.
first sp-okc of being ill ; though, for several days, his disease did not assume
an alarming aspect. It turned out, however, to be the prevailing fcver ;
and at length it became quite certain that it must have a fatal termination.
When he was apprized of his condition, he received the intelligence with
the utmost serenity, and dictated, immediately after, several letters to his
friends, expressive of the most unqualified submission to the Divine will.
He died on Sabbath morning, October 23, 1825, at the age of thirty-three.
His funeral was attended the next afternoon, and his remains were deposited
in a garden belonging to the mission family.
FROM Till-: REV. ALVAN BOND, D. D.
Norwich, July 10, 1862.
My dear Sir: The lamented individual concerning whom you inquire, was not
only my class-mate but my room-mate in the Theological Seminary at Andover;
so that I had abundant opportunities for an intimate acquaintance with his char-
acter. My personal recollections may have lost somewhat of their vividness,
during the lapse of so many years, and some interesting incidents may have
passed from my memory; but I think I may recall enough to furnish a likeness
which tliey will recognise, who knew him during the years of his collegiate and
theological studies.
The personal appearance of Mr. Fisk was that of manly vigour rather than
grace. In stature he was somewhat above the medium height, with broad shoul-
ders, and head inclining forwai'd. A heavy growth of bushy, raven hair, a dark
complexion, a black, piercing eye, looking out from a shaded brow, and coarsely
chiselled features, gave to him an aspect of intellectual strength and firmness.
There was not wanting the bland expression of benevolence, sincerity, and cheer-
fulness,— qualities which were developed in tides of sympathy and hearty cheer
in his social intercourse. In his homespun costume and careless trim, (for he
was not a devotee of the toilet,) he might have been taken for a stalwart farmer,
rather than a cloistered student. lie affected no airs, made no pretensions, pro-
duced no other impression than that of a cheerful, consistent, honest Christian
friend and brother, having a heart glowing and flowing with true chanty, — " an
Israelite indeed in whom there was no guile." Possessed of much of the spirit
of self-reliance, kindness, and energy, he was a person on whom his friends could
rely with confidence for support and counsel.
Among the qualities more strikingly exhibited in his life, some of which I will
endeavour to specify, I may mention that of quick discernment. With a sort of
intuition, he would look into the characters of those with whom he had inter-
course, and form an estimate which he would generally have little occasion to
modify after a longer acquaintance. Having studied himself with severe scrutiny,
thus becoming informed with respect to the little world within, he was aided
thereby in forming an estimate of the characters of others.
It was this that gave him such facility in adapting his conversation to the
peculiar temperament of those whom he might address on the subject of religion.
If he encountered a skeptic or an opposer, he would readily detect the position in
which his antagonist was intrenched, and meet him with weapons which would
be likely to silence, if they did not disarm, him. In conversation witli a religious
inquirer, he readily detected the points of difficulty with which his mind was
embarrassed, exposed them clearly, and gave counsels well suited to the case
If he found a Oliristian walking in darkness, he seemed to apprehend at once the
causes of depression, and directed him to the appropriate sources of comfort and
relief.
Another striking characteristic was his ardent love for the Holy Scriptures.
Xo man ever entertained a more profound reverence for the word of God, and
PLINY FISK. 627
few probably devoted more time to its study. He treasured large portions of it
in his memory, and could say in truth, — " Thy word have I hid in mine heart
that I might not sin against thee." It was not so much a critical and philo-
sophical investigation of the original Scriptures, that inspired his enthusiasm, as
that earnest, devout study, which enabled him to drink freely from those spiritual
fountains opened by the Sacred Word. His manner of studying the Bible was sys-
tematic; and it was so conducted as to give him a ready command of such portions
as he might need in elucidating any doctrine or duty on which lie had occasion to
speak.
Another quality prominent in his character, as developed in the Theological
Seminary, was a burning zeal for doing good, both within and beyond the limits
of the institution. * It was sometimes thought that his partiality for the activi-
ties of Christian life interfered with that devotion to theological studies, which
was the primary end of his residence in the School of the Prophets. From
communications made by him, after he entered on the diiEcult duties of mission-
ary life, it is evident that he entertained a higher idea of the importance of
extended theological attainments, than while he was prosecuting his prepara-
tory studies. If his zeal carried him sometimes to an extreme in respect to
active Christian effort, scarcely compatible with the duties of a theological stu-
dent, the subsequent fruits of this kind of labour offered, in his case, no slight
apology for it. If the limits of this communication would admit, I might
instance various ways in which he made his untiring efforts tell most benignly
on the spiritual interests of those who were within the reach of his influence.
Perhaps no element in the character of Mr. Fisk was more prominent than
common sense. He understood the proprieties of the position he occupied, the
duties of the relations he sustained, and adjusted his deportment accordingly.
Unsophisticated and unassuming in his manners and bearing, he was uniformly
courteous and respectful to superiors in age and station, and in cases of con-
scious superiority, he was affable, gentle, and obliging. The little child was
not repelled from him by austerity or coldness; poverty and ignorance did not
hesitate to approach him as a friend of generous sympathies; while acknow-
ledged superiors in rank and learning were favourably impressed with the
manly elements of his character, and were delighted with his simple and
deferential manner. AYithout compromising his principles, he manifested
towards those who differed from him a candid and charitable spirit, which won
their confidence and respect. Firm without dogmatism, and faithful without
obtrusiveness, he could approach all classes of people on the subject of their
spiritual welfare, without exciting prejudice or creating embarras-sment.
In the disposition of his time, and in his diversified engagements, method
was a marked feature. He valued time as a precious talent; and, in its expen-
diture, observed a rigid and habitual economy. Ilis duties were subjected to
systematic arrangement, so that when one thing was done, he knew what came
next in order. In his devotions, his studies, his exercise, his social intercourse,
he was governed by a method so precisely adjusted as to secure to each its
appropriate share of time and attentfon. In this way he was enabled to accom-
plish much, without ever seeming to be in haste, and when the day was ended,
the work of the day was done.
But the feature in Mr. Fisk's character that attracted most attention was his
missionary spirit. Ilis interest in the cause of missions commenced almost
simultaneously with his conversion. During his connection with the Seminary,
he laboured to enkindle in other minds zeal similar to that wliich glowed in his
own bosom. And he succeeded in awakening tlie attention of at least some of
his brethren to personal inquiry as to their duty in relation to this work; and
some who subsequently determined to devote themselves to the service of Christ
in the foreign field, received from this devoted brother their first missionary
impulses.
628 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL
Such are some of my recollections of the man who nobly carried into execu-
tion his purpose to preach Christ Jesus to the perishing Heathen. His term of
service was indeed short; but during that time, he was diligent in business,
fervent in spirit, serving the Lord.
Yours in the bonds of the Gospel,
A. BOND.
FROM THE REV. JONAS KING, D.D.
Athens, (Greece,) February 20, 1852.
My dear Sir: Your letter of the 15th of December, 1851, in which you
express a desire to obtain one from me, containing personal recollections illus-
trative of the character of my former missionary associate in Palestine and
Syria, Pliny Fisk, I received the 19th ult.; and my first feeling was that of joy,
that an opportunity was thus offered me of expressing publicly, through you,
what I had often expressed in private, — namely, that the character of Pliny
Fisk appeared to me to exceed, in point of interest, any representation of it that
I have seen in print; and I regret that the state of my health, and the unavoid-
able duties of my mission in this place, do not allow me the time necessary in
order to write such a letter with regard to him as I could wish.
Nearly twenty-seven years have elapsed since I bade him adieu, and since he,
soon after, in a letter which he wrote on his dying bed, sent me his last " fare-
well;"— a precious letter which I seldom read without tears.
He was a man calculated to gain the affection and respect of all with whom
he had intercourse, by his unaffected simplicity of manners, by that charity
which " seeketh not her own," and by that humility with which he seemed
ever to be clothed.
During the three years we were together in Egypt, Palestine, and Syria, the
dispute never was, I believe, between us, who should he first. On the contrary,
he used to express a wish that I should come forward and take the lead, — if I
may so say, — more than I did. My answer was, that he had the precedence of
me in age; that I came to assist him, and desired to conform myself, as much as
possible, to his plans and wishes with regard to our movements and missionary
operations. This, he said, he did not wish, but insisted that my feelings and
opinions should be consulted as much as his. I dwell on this the more because
it constituted a lovely trait in his character, and one which is not always to be
found in those who are otherwise very excellent people, and even zealous sup-
porters of the trtith.
When I went to join him in his mission, my health was delicate. I had been
ill of a fever at Paris, and brought so low, that a place was, I believe, chosen
for me in " Pere la Chaise," not long before he wrote to me to come and take
the place of Parsons, his first associate, who had fallen by disease, and whose
mortal remains he had, "with a heart overflowing with grief," buried in the
land of Egypt. Under these circumstances, it was very natural that lie sliould
feel some anxiety with regard to me, and ^e expressed a fear lest I too should
be taken from him before the expiration of the three years for which I had
engaged to assist him in his mission. His own health seemed perfect. A rose
was on his cheeks, and his strength firm. And as, in travelling, we had some-
times hard.ships to endure, he endeavoured to make them as light for me as pos-
sible. If any thing heavy in the baggage was to be lifted, he lifted it for me.
If there was any snug, comfortable place in the tent, or in the corner of a hut,
or a stable, in which we sometimes had to lodge, he gave it to me. His heart
seemed to be a fountain from which kindness was continually flowing.
Athens, May 21, 1852.
My dear Sir: While writing the above letter, I was suddenly interrupted by
a summons to appear before the Criminal Court of Athens, to be tried for having
PLINY FISK. 629
preached and taught doctrines contrary to those of the Oriental Greek Church,
and I was obliged to leave every thing else, in order to make preparation for that
trial, which terminated, as you have probably ere this learned through the public
papers, in my condemnation to imprisonment and exile.
While in prison, I was taken ill, and confined to my bed for seven days; and
for some time after, I was too feeble to resume my pen; and when I recovered so
as to be able to write, I was too much occupied with my own affairs, in making
communications with regard to them, and in preparing to go into exile, to be
able to add any thing to what I had written as above. And even now, I hardly
feel able to commence anew. I have been wearied by my long struggle, and feel
the need of a little repose. Besides, though the sentence of exile has not yet
been put in execution, I am expecting every day that the order may be sent for
my departure. Under these circumstances, you will pardon me, I hope, if I
send j^ou this letter, all imperfect as it is, in the delineation of the character of
the person with regard to whom you wished me to write, as exhibited during
the time I was connected with him as a missionary.
Our journcyings together for three years in Eg3rpt, in the Desert, and in
Palestine and Sj^ria, were full of incidents, which, had I time to recount them,
would tend to show his^strong faith in Chri«t, and his fervent love to God and
man. His last letter to me, written on his dying bed, has been read by many
in Europe, I believe, as well as in America, with great interest.
I will only add that, by his conduct and conversation, by his meek deport-
ment and his prayers, by his zeal in the cause of Christ, by his letters when in
health, and when on the bed of death, he showed that he was a faithful messen-
ger of the churches that sent him, and a devoted servant of the Lord.
I am, my dear Sir, yours truly,
JONAS KING.
SERENO EDWARDS DWIGHT, D. D *
1816—1850.
Sereno Edwards Dwigiit, the fifth son and child of the Rev. Dr.
Dwight, President of Yale College, was born in Greenfield, a village in the
town of Fairfield, Conn., May 18, 1786. From very early childhood, he
manifested great quickness of apprehension, and was in all respects a boy
of unusual promise. It is scarcely necessary to say, living as he did in his
father's family, that he grew up under influences the most favourable to
both intellectual and moral culture. In December, 1795, when he was
between nine and ten years of age, he was removed with the other members
of the family to New Haven, — his father having then become President of
Yale College. From this time, he was diligently engaged in his classical
studies at Hopkins' Grammar School, until his admission into Yale ("College
in 1799. He at once took, and ever after retained, an honourable position
among his class-mates ; though of about seventy, many of whom have risen
to no small distinction, he was one of the two or three youngest, if not the
very youngest. He passed through College, distinguished for his talents
and scholarship, and with an irreproachable moral character.
* Memoir prefixed to his Posthumous Sermons.
630 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Immediately after leaving College, he, with several other graduates,
accompanied his father on one of those journeys through New England,
which supplied the material for President Dwight's four volumes of " Trav-
els." On his return from this delightful excursion, ho became assistant
teacher in an Academy, in the village of South Farms, Litchfield, of
which James Morris was Principal. Though he was now but seventeen and
a half years of age, he had great maturity of physical as well as mruital
development, and succeeded admirably, not only in imparting instruction to
his pupils, but in commanding their confidence and respect.
Having been thus engaged for a year, he returned to Now Haven, and
passed the succeeding year as liis father's amanuensis. The year after
that, — the third from his leaving College, he devoted, as is supposed, to a
course of study more or less general. At the commencement of the college
year in 1806, he became a Tutor in Yale College, and held the office with
great dignity and efficiency until 1810. During this time he prosecuted
the study of Law, first under Judge Chauncy, and afterwards under Nathan
Smith, Esq., — both of them among the most en)inent jurists in the State.
He was admitted to the Bar in New Haven County, in November, 1810, —
two months after his connection with the College had terminated.
In August, 1811, he was married to Susan Edwards, the eldest daughter
of the Hon. David Daggett of New Haven, — a lady of vigorous and culti-
vated mind, and fine social and Christian qualities. Their union continued
for twenty-eight years. They had but one child, — a daughter, who died in
the earliest infancy.
Mr. Dwight was, for several years, engaged in the practice of Law in
New Haven, and acquired a high reputation for legal knowledge and ability ;
though his ardent temperament is said to have been in some degree adverse
to his success. About two years after his admission to the Bar, being con-
fined by a lingering fever, — his physician prescribed for him a dose of mer-
cury, which, instead of its usual healthful action, exerted a most noxious
influence; producing an eruption that spread itself over difiFereut portions
of his body, and that proved the beginning of a malady (the salt-rheum)
from which he suffered severely during the remainder of his life.
In the summer of 1815, during a revival of religion in the First Congre-
gational church in New Haven, of which Mr. (now Dr.) Taylor was then
pastor, Mr. Dwight experienced, as he believed, a radical change of charac-
ter. In October following, he made a public profession of his faith; and in
October, 1816, was licensed to preach the Gospel by the West Associa-
tion of New Haven County. Shortly after, he preached his first sermon in
the pulpit of the First Congregational church ; and it was a noticeable cir-
cumstance that the first discourse of the son, and tlic last discourse of the
father, were delivered on the same Sabbath and in the same pulpit.
Mr. Dwight was chosen by the Senate of the United States their Chaplain
for the session of 1816-17, and accepted the appointment. In the succeed-
ing summer, he was invited by the Park Street church and congregation in
Boston to become their pastor, and having accepted the invitation, was
ordained on the 3il of September of the same year. The ordination Sermon
was preached by the llev. Dr. Lyman Bcecher, and was published. Hero
he continued labouring with great zeal and success for about ten years. In
1822-23, a powerful revival took place under his labours, which was the
SERENO EDWARDS DWIGHT. g31
means of adding greatly to the number of communicaut.^ as well as increas-
ing the stability and influence of the church.
Mr. Dwight's labours during the revival overtasked his physical strength,
and ultimately created the necessity for his taking a protracted season of
relaxation. His church, with commendable liberality, voted to release him
from his pastoral duties for a year, with a view to his visiting Europe, — at
the same time, making ample provision for meeting all the expenses incurred
by his tour. He accordingly set sail from New York for Europe in the
month of August; and, after visiting France, Switzerland, Italy, Austria,
(jermany, and Great Britain, returned in August, 1825.
On his return, he was cordially welcomed by his people, and resumed hia
official duties with his usual alacrity. At the close of January. 1826, in
consequence of unusual exertions in speaking in the pulpit, his voice was so
much injured that every subsequent effort to speak wat; attended with much
difficulty — an evil which he ascribed at least partly to wliat he considered
the disproportionate dimensions of the edifice in which he preached. As
this was an evil which could not be easily remedied, he began now, though
most reluctantly, to meditate the resignation of his pastoral charge ; and he
was actually dismissed on the 10th of April, 1826, — both the people and
the council bearing honourable attestation to his fidelity and usefulness.
Soon after his dismission, he returned to New Haven, in which city and
its vicinity he resided the seven succeeding years. During this time, he
was occupied chiefly in writing the Life of President Edwards, — a work
which he had had in contemplation, and for which he had been gathering
materials, many years. This Biography, in connection with a new and
enlarged edition of President Edwards' works, was published in 1829.
In 1828, Mr, Dwight commenced, in conjunction with his youngest
brother, Henry, a large school for boys in New Haven, which was modelled
on the plan of the German Gymnasiums. This school was continued not
far from three years. Towards the close of the period of its continuance,
Mr. Dwight's health became much more seriously impaired, and the malady
already noticed as having originated in metlieal treatment many years before,
assumed an aggravated form, and subjected him to frequent and intense suf-
fering.
In March, 1838, he was chosen President of Hamilton College, at Clin-
ton, N. Y. In April following, he signified his acceptance of the appoint-
ment, and in August was inducted into ofiicc. In September of the same
year, he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Yale College.
Dr. Dwight's connection with Hamilton College continued until Septem-
ber, 1835, when, in consequence of the unpromising pecuniary state of the
institution and some other circumstances, he tendered his resignation. After
this, he returned to New Haven, where he resided until the fall of 1838 ;
and, during this period, was employed a few months in an agency in behalf
of the Pennsylvania Colonization Society. He now took up his residence
in the city of New York, where he remained during the rest of his days.
His malady which, by this time, had gained the complete mastery over him,
and disabled him, as he believed, for all active service, led him to court
retirement ; and, for many years, little was known concerning him beyond
the fact that he was a resident of New York. In October, 1S50, he visited
Philadelphia with the purpose of trying the effect of hydropathy. After he
had been there a few weeks, he was suddenlv seized with chills and fever,
g32 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
and the attack soon extended to tlie brain. Ills brother, Dr. Dwight of
Portland, was speedily sunimoued to Philadelphia by telegraph, and, on his
arrival, found him greatly reduced, and, thuugli able to recognise him, yet
too feeble in body and mind to hold any continuous conversation. He died
on the 30tli of November, 1850, and his remains were shortly after con-
veyed to New Haven, and deposited in the beautiful cemetery which embo-
soms the dust of many of his kindred.
The following is a list of Dr. Dwight's publications : — A Sermon at the
funeral of the Ptev. Joshua Huntington, ISPJ. A Sermon before the For-
eign Mission Society of Boston and the vicinity, 1820. Memoirs of David
Brainard, octavo, 1822. An Address on the Greek llevolution, 1824. A
Sermon at the installation of the llev. Charles Jenkins, 1825. The death
of Christ : the substance of several Sermons delivered at the Park Street
church, Boston, 1826. The Life of President Edwards, 1830. The
Hebrew wife, 18oG.
In 1851, a duodecimo volume of Dr. Dwight's Discourses was published,
together with a Memoir by his brother, the llev. W, T. Dwight, D. D., of
Portland.
FROM THE REV. WILLIAM T. DWIGHT, D. D.
Portland, June 16, 1856.
Dear Sir: In compliance with your request, I shall transmit to you a few brief
notices concerning my lirother, Rev. Sereno E. Uwiglit, D. D.
lie was more than six feet in heiglit, well formed, rather slender, perfectly
erect, and easy and graceful in his motions. His face was oval, his features were
regular. His forehead was high and broad, and Ids eye bright with intelligence.
He was generally thought one of the handsomest men of his time. Ills manners
were easy, polished, and dignified.
His intellect was naturally both vigorous and acute. These qualities he dis-
played in very early youth, anterior to his admission into Yale College. One of
his instructors, Rev. Dr. Murdock, the learned annotator on Mosheim, described
him as the best scholar that himself had ever had under his care. Ilis progress
in every department of study while in College was rajjid and thorough, and his
reputation for scholarship very high, although he was graduated at the prema-
ture age of seventeen. Subsequently, as a Tutor, his success in imparting
instruction was corresponding. Naturally inquisitive, he very eaily formed a
taste for the acquisition of useful knowledge, and this taste he continued to culti-
vate through life. His memory was retentive, his imagination, — when he chose
to indulge it, — highly poetical, and his logical powers were strong. Ilis natural
and acquired resources would have enabled him, independently of the ill health
which attended him for the last half of his life, to excel in any department of
study, and in any profession. He chose the Law for his profession; and he
prepared himself for its practice by close study, so that, when leaving it for the
ministry after six years, he Avas then deemed a learned lawyer. His acuteness
of discrimination and his fluency of address, would have almost certainly secu-
red him a very high rank, had he continued at the bar.
He was, from childhood, characterized by uncommon conscientiousness, by
sincerity, frankness, and generosity of spirit. These qualities Avcre conspicuous
through his life. He was perfectly honest and open in his intercourse with other
men, a stranger to all manceuvering and intrigue, and scorning it when adopted
by others. He avowed his opinions every where frankly, whether they were pop-
ular or the reverse. Constitutionally ardent, he was unfitted to practise conceal-
ment; and, like most ardent men, he would occasionally urge his own sentiments
J
SERENO EDWARDS DWIGHT. 633
with such earnestness and directness, that the timid and the phlegmatic were
silenced rather than persuaded. He was, as those who knew him best doubted
not, a truly Christian man; one who feared God and loved the Saviour, and who
cherished a large benevolence toward his fellow men. llis change of profession
from the Bar to the ministry was dictated by convictions of duty; and after he
had entered the pulj^it, and while he continued to be a pastor, few have appeared
so single hearted and devoted to the great work of glorifying God in the Gospel
of His Son. His piety was deemed uncommonly elevated and ardent; and he
consulted not his own ease, nor sought for popular applause, nor expended a por-
tion of his powers in other and half secular spheres of effort, but he studied,
prayed, visited, preached, lived, that the Kingdom of Christ might be extended
through a revolted world.
His preaching was marked by its intelligibleness and its directness of appeal
to the conscience. Whatever the subject, his own vigour of intellect enabled
him to exhibit it clearly, so that every class of hearers received instruction. He
was not addicted to metaphysical disquisitions in his sermons, but he aimed at
practical and immediate results. He preferred, accordingly, in most cases, brief
processes of argumentation; and then, when the subject had been distinctly
expounded and illustrated, he brought every thing to bear on the conscience and
the heart. The Volume of his Select Discourses, edited by the writer of this
brief account, and published at Boston in 1851, is thus characterized. The Dis-
courses ou the death of Christ, which it contains, exhibit Ms power as a rea-
soner, his attainments as a Biblical critic, and the elevation of his evangelical
views on this fundamental topic. The Address on the Greek Revolution, which is
also there to be found, treats of a subject requiring a departure from that simpli-
city and plainness of style, which, on principle, he introduced into his common
discourses; and as a specimen of richness and power of thought, clothed in the
best language, it is believed to have very few equals among the most eloquent
productions of the American pulpit.
His manner, as a preacher, was earnest and solemn. His voice was clear and
pleasant, except when raised to a high key, and his enunciation forcible. Had
he studiously aimed to excel in the deliver}^ of his sermons, — a matter often over-
looked by many preachers, it is thought that his speaking would have been
uncommonly impressive.
Very truly yours,
WILLIAM T. DWIGHT.
ELIAS CORNELIUS, D. D.*
181G— 1832.
Elias Cornelius, the son of Dr. Elias Cornelius, was born at Somers,
Westchester county, N. Y., July 31, 1794. His father was a native of
Long Island. Having studied medicine in the city of New York, and the
war of the liovolution being then in progress, he entered the army at the
;ige of twenty, as Surgeon's mate in the second regiment of Rhode Island
troops, then under the command of Colonel Israel Angell. He was soon taken
prisoner and confined, for some time, in New York ; but in March, 1778,
he escaped and returned to his place in the array. He quitted the service
• American Quart. Reg. IV. and V. — Ilawes' Fun. Serin.
Vol. II. 80
634 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
in 1781, and settled as a physician at Soniers, wlicre lie spent the residue
of his life. Ilis history was peculiar in this respect, — that he received his
first permanent religious impressions while he was in the army. It was
partly through his instrumentality that a Presbyterian church was gathered
in the place where he resided, and he held the office of Deacon in it forty
years. lie died June 13, ISliS. lie attained to great respectability iu liis
profession, and was distinguished for his energy, industry, and beuovolouce.
The subject of the present sketch was one of five children, though he
was an only son. His childhood was marked by a strong relish for youth-
ful amusements, and uncommon buoyancy of animal spirits ; though the
influence of a Christian education was felt, to some extent, even at that
early period, in that painful disquietude which results from a consciousness
of being estranged from God.
His studies preparatory to entering College were prosecuted, partly under
the instruction of the llev. Herman Daggett, for somo time Principal of
the Foreign Mission School at Cornwall. It was hero especially that he
acquired that strict regard to order, that admirable habit of accuracy and
systematic arrangement, that gave him sucli advantage as a man of business,
in the various important places which he filled in after life.
In September, 1810, when he was a little past sixteen, he joined the
Sophomore class in Yale College. During the first two years of his college
life, he made no great improvement in the classics, owing partly to his not
suitably appreciating his responsibility as a student, and partly to his
attention having become, in a great degree, absorbed in Natural History.
He afterwards deeply lamented this neglect, and atoned for it as vt'ell as he
could, by his vigorous and successful application, especially to the Greek
and Hebrew.
In the spring of 1813, during a season of unusual attention to religion in
College, young Cornelius became deeply affected, and, for many weeks, if
his countenance was a true index to his feelings, (for I was accustomed to
meet him in my daily walks,) he was on the borders of despair. At length,
the clouds in which his mind had been enveloped, broke away, and he stood
forth among those who had been the witnesses and the companions of his
gaiety, a striking example of the sul)duing and renovating power of Chris-
tianity. As the great purpose of his life was now changed, so his energies
and efforts were all directed in a new channel ; and from that period to his
dying day, he seems to have been like the great Apostle of the Gentiles, -
a man of one idea, — consecrated in all his views, and feelings, and actions,
to the honour of his Redeemer and the best interests of his fellow men.
Mr. Cornelius took his degree of Bachelor of Arts in September, 1813.
For nearly two years after his graduation, he remained at New Haven,
pursuing his theological studies under the direction of President Dwight ;
after which, he repaired to Litchfield, and completed his preparation for the
ministry under Dr. IJeccher. He was licensed to preach by the South
Association of Litchfield county, June 4, 1816 ; and, within two or three
weeks, received an appointment as an agent of the American Board of
Commissioners for Foreign Missions. His first efforts in the pulpit, in aid
of the missionary cause, were alike acceptable and successful. The spirit
of benevolence was awakened by his earnest appeals, and the most intelli-
gent friends of the cause prolicted tliat, if his life was spared, he would be
found a highly efficient auxiliary in the great work of evangelizing the world.
ELIAS CORNELIUS. 035
About this time, a deep intorost was awakened in behalf of the Indians
in tho Southwestern part of the country ; — an interest in which, not only
Christians of diflferent communions, and general philanthropists, but even
the national government, participated. To enable the Board to accomplish
its beuovolent purpose in sending the Gospel among these children of the
forest, Mr. Cornelius was appointed, in Deceraber, 1816, a special agent to
raise the necessary funds. Having visited several of the more important
towns at the North, he resolved, with the consent of the Board, to make a tour
to the Southwest, as far as the Cherokee country, and then to pass six
months us a missionary in New Orleans, under the patronage of the Mis-
siunary Society of Connecticut. Ho was ordained as an evangelist, April
'J, 1817, and shortly after set out on his mission. Having preached in the
principal towns through which he passed, and made considerable collections
for the Board, he reached Brainord, in the Cherokee nation, on the 19th of
September, where ho was vvclcomcd by the missionaries with the utmost
cordiality. Soon after his arrival, he met both the Creeks and the Chero-
koes in council, which cost him a journey of ten days, attended with no
small exposure.
Mr. Cornelius, after having lingered for some time in the neighbourhood
of Brainerd, and performed some important services for the mission, pro-
ceeded on his way to New Orleans, where he arrived on the 30th of Decem-
ber. Hero he continued until the 2d of April, 1818 ; and in the mean
^time was joined by the Kev. Sylvester Larned, in whom he found an
earnest, as well as gifted and eloquent, coadjutor. Previous to Mr. L.'s
arrival, he preached statedly and frequently to all who would assemble for
public worship ; but after that, his labours were chiefly directed to the
relief and improvement of the ignorant and destitute. He acted as a min-
ister of mercy in the hospitals, in the jail, among seamen, and last, though
not least, among the poor Africans.
After leaving New Orleans, he made a visit at Natchez, in which he suc-
ceeded in collecting above sixteen hundred dollars in aid of the Indian
mission. Twenty-two days from Natchez, during which he suff"crcd some-
what from ill health, carried him to the missionary station, where he had
the pleasure of meeting not only the brethren and sisters of the mission,
but the devoted Jeremiah Evarts, the Secretary of the Board, who had
meanwhile journeyed thither, in aid of the great enterprise. Mr. Cornelius
reached Boston in August, after having travelled between eight and nine
thousand miles, preached in behalf of the Board three hundred times, and
collected upwards of seven thousand dollars. Various interesting incidents
occurred in connection with tliis journey ; of which the following is deemed
specially worthy of record. As he was on his way to the Chickasaw nation,
he met several Cherokees returning from the Arkansas country, and bringing
with thorn a little Osage girl, about five years of age, whose mother they
had killed and scalped. lie immediately adopted successful measures for
the redemption and Christian education of the child ; and the story, when it
"went forth from his full heart and his attractive pen to the Christian com-
munity, told with no inconsiderable power on the cause of Indian missions.
In September, 1818, he was married to Mary. cMest daughter of the
Rev. Asahel Hooker, who was settled in the ministry, first at Goshen, and
afterwards at Norwich, Conn.
636 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
The rapidly extending operations of the American Board, at this period
rendered it desirable that permanent provision should be made for the sup-
port of the Corresponding Secretary, so that he might give his whole tiiiio
to the duties of his oflice. Mr. Cornelius undertook to collect funds for this
purpose, and actually did collect several tliousand dollars. In the spring
of 1819, he was invited to the pastoral charge of the First church in Charles-
town, Mass., but declined the invitation on the ground tiiat a pastoral
engagement in so important a place would leave him with no time for those
more general duties of Christian benevolence, to which he felt himself so
strongly attracted.
In the early part of 1S19, Mr. Cornelius spent some time in attending on
the public lectures and other exercises of the Theological Seminary at
Andover. On the !?lst of July, 1819, he was installed as Colleague pastor
with the Rev. Dr. Worcester over the Tabernacle Church in Salem. The
stipulation was that Dr. Worcester, on whom had devolved a large share of
both the labour and the responsibility of conducting the operations of the
American Board, should be at liberty to devote throe-fourths of his time to
the missionary cause, while three months should bo allowed to Mr. Cornelius
to plead directly for the same object. Notwithstanding Mr. C. had had a
strong impression that he ought to devote himself to the foreign missionary
Beryice, without reserve, the arrangement into which he now came, in being
associated with Dr. Worcester, seemed, in some degree, to satisfy his mis-
sionary aspirations ; and he entered upon his duties as a pastor under**
circumstances favourable alike to his comfort and usefulness. His pastoral
duties he discharged with the utmost exactness and fidelity; and, at the same
time, addressed himself to a vigorous course of study, in the several branches
more immediately connected with his profession. An extensive revival of
religion took place in connection with his ministry, which resulted in about
one hundred persons being added to the church.
The death of Dr. Worcester occurred in June. 1821. How afflictive the
event was to Mr. Cornelius, and how happy he had been in the relation of a
colleague pastor, may be learned by the following extract from the sermon
which he preached on occasion of Dr. W.'s death : —
•■•' You wiU doubtless expect that I should say something of the character of Dr.
Worcester as an associate pastor. On tliis subject I scarcely dare to trust my own
feelings. I may. however, be permitted to say that I shall ever regard the jK-riod of
my connection with him as one of tlie happiest portions of my life. And whatever
may have been the history of other connections of a similar nature, with heartfelt
gratitude to God I desire to record of this, that no incident ever occurred, which was
known to iiit(Trupt its peace, or to mar its enjoyment, for a moment. I weep while I
think its endearnients are at an end: and that I shall sit at his feet and receive his
paternal instructions no more."
Mr. Cornelius, from an early period of his ministry, had taken a deep
interest in the education of indigent young men for the Gospel ministry.
Before he commenced his South Western tour in 1819, he received a com-
mission from the American Education Society, to labour in its behalf, as
he mi"-ht find opportunity. In 1824, he was appointed Secretary of the
Society, but declined the appointment. In the spring of 1826, the same
Society employed him as an agent for three months, during which time he
secured the extraordinary sum of forty thousand dollars, in the form of
permanent scholarships, of one thousand dollars each. In the summer of
182G, he was again elected Secretary of the Society. This occasioned him
great embarrassment in respect to his duty ; but it was finally submitted by
ELIAS CORNELIUS. (537
liini and the church to which he ministered, to a mutual council, and, alter
(iolibcrating for several days on the subject, they decided in favour of his
acceptance of the appointment. He was dismissed from his pastoral charge
in the early part of October, and shortly after removed to Andover, and
entered upon the duties of the Secretariship, In this field of labour he
continued till January, 1832, — somewhat more than six years. During this
period, he travelled from fifteen to twenty thousand miles, and raised funds
to the amount of between a hundred and twenty and a hundred and fifty
thousand dollars. When he entered upon his office, the Society had been
in existence eleven years, and had afforded aid to five hundred and fifty
young men. When he retired from it, after about six years, the entire list
of beneficiaries of the same Society amounted to about thirteen hundred.
His benign influence was felt, not merely in enlisting public attention and
charity in aid of the object, but especially in guai'ding the avenues to the
ministry, and raising tho tone of spiritual qualification in those who
aspired to it.
In 1829, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon Mr. Corne-
lius by Dartmouth College. He was chosen Professor of Divinity in that
institution, but declined the appointment. He also declined the Secretari-
ship of the American Bible Society.
The office of Secretary of the American Board of Commissioners for
Foreign Missions having been vacated in May, 1^31, by the death of Mr.
Evarts,* Dr. Cornelius was chosen in October following to fill the vacancy.
After having given to the subject between two and three months of serious
deliberation and earnest prayer, he accepted the appointment, with great
confidence that, in doing so, he was obeying a call of God's providence.
He entered upon the duties of his new office with a zeal corresponding to
tlic almost overwhelming sense which he had of the responsibility involved
in it. Having spent about a month in Boston, in the most earnest efforts
to rouse the Christian community to a higher tone of action on this subject,
he set out, on Saturday, the 4th of February, for New York. He passed
the Sabbath at Worcester, and reached Hartford, Conn., the next day; and,
though he was seriously ill, he attended the monthly concert of prayer in
the evening. He continued ill during the week ; but no serious apprehen-
sions were entertained concerning him until Saturday. Then his disease
seated itself in the brain, and all hope of his recovery was quickly abandoned.
• Jeremtah Evarts, — probably a descendant of John Evarts, who lived in Guilford, Conn.,
in 1650, was born in Sunderland, Vt., February 3. 1781. His parents, after a few years,
removed to the town of (ieorgia, in the Northern part of Vermont. He fitted for College under
the instruction of the Rev. John Elliott of East Guilford, and was graduated at Yale in 1802,
having joined the College church during his .Senior year. In 180a-4, he had charge of the
\i-adcmy at Peacham, Vt., and afterwards studied Law with Judge Chauncy of New Haven,
v. here also he commenced the practice of Law in July, 1800. In JNIay, 1810, be removed to
• "harlestowu, Mass., and became editor of the Panoplist, which had been previously conducted
by Dr. Morse. In 1812, ho was chosen Treasurer of the American Board of Commissioners for
I'oreign Missions, and the next year, one of the Prudential Committee. He served as Treasu-
rer till 1822. In 1821, he succeeded Dr. Worcester as Corresponding Secretary, and held the
office till his death. In Eebruary, 1831, he took a voyage for The benefit of his health, which
had become greatly reduced, to the Island of Cuba; and thence, in April, to Charleston, S. C,
where, in the house of the Rev. Dr. Palmer, he died on the 10th of May, aged fifty. Besides
his labours in editing the Panoplist, he wrote the ten Annual Reports of the American Board
from 1821 to 1830; also, Essays, twenty-four in number, on the Rights and Claims of the
Indians, under the signature of William Penn, which were pnlilished in 1820; and various other
pieces on tlie same subject, one of which forms an article in the North American •Review. Ho
also edited the volume of Speeches on the Indian Bill, and wrote the Introduction. He was
distinguished for a clear, powerful, and vigorous mind, for unswerving integrity, and for the
most intense and efficient devotion to the cause of missions.
638 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
His sufferings, during his last hours, wero extreme ; but ho was sustained
under them by the sublimest actings of faith. He died at eight o'clock ou
Sabbath morning, February 1'2, 1832, in the thirty-oiglith year of his age.
The funeral services were performed on tlie Wednesday following, in the
Centre church, and an impressive discourse delivered on the occasion, by
the llev. Dr. Hawes from John xvii, 24. It was published. His remains
were interred in the North burying ground, and a fine monument has been
erected over his grave.
The following is a list of Dr. Cornelius' acknowledged publications: —
Grod's ways not as our ways : A Sermon occasioned by the deatli of the Rev.
Samuel Worcester, D. D., 1821. A Sermon delivered at the Tabernacle
church, Salem, at the ordination of Edmund Frost, as a Missionary to the
Heathen, and of several Evangelists, 1823. The moral and religious
improvement of the poor : A Sermon delivered in the Tabernacle church,
Salem, 1824. A Sermon on the doctrine of the Trinity, 1826.
Beside the above, he published several controversial pamphlets, &c.,
which were anonymous.
It was my privilege to know Dr. Cornelius at various stages of his life,
and in different spheres of action. I knew him in College when he was the
centre of a circle of gaiety; and even before I was acquainted with him, L
used to admire his fine face and noble form, as I saw him from day to day.
I knew him when he was smitten with a deep conviction of his guilt, and it
seemed as if the arrows of the Almighty had drunk up his spirits. I knew
him when he was engaged in his preparation for the ministry, and after-
wards when he had a pastoral charge, and, at a still later period, during his
connection with the American Education Society ; and I can truly say that
I always regarded him as an uncommonly fine specimen both of a man and
of a Christian. I always found him sincere, generous, warm-hearted. I
never heard him preach but twice ; and one of those efforts, if judged by
the effect it produced in opening the hearts and the hands of his audience,
was of the highest class. I doubt whether there are any who knew him
well, who did not respect his character, and who do not now honour his
memory.
FROM THE REV. EDWARD W. HOOKER, D.D.,
PROFESSOR IN TUE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY AT EAST WINnSOR.
East "Windsor Hill, November 18, 1848.
Dear Sir: My acquaintance with the Rev. Dr. Cornelius commenced in 181G.
Tic had then recently been licensed to preach the Gospel; and was residing in
Litchfield with tlie Rev. Dr. ]]cecher. I first heard him preach in the pulpit of
the Rev. Samuel .T. Mills in Torringford, in a time of religious revival. His
text was, " I have somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thj' first love;"
Rev. IT. 4. His own warm heart led him to appeal with great earnestness and
solemnity to such as were in a backslidden state. The appearance of the vener-
able Mills is fresh in my recollection, as he stood by the side of the eloquent
young preacher, — his countenance indicating that he felt the solemnity and inter-
est both of the subject and of the occasion.
What Mr. Cornelius was in the essential elements of his character as a preacher,
on that occasion, he continued to be from that day forward to the close of his
life. At ai» anniversary of the American Education Society, after his death, a
well known advocate of Christian l)encvolence, connected with a New England
Theological Seminary, speaking of several departed friends of the Kingdom of
ELIAS CORNELIUS. 639
Christ, added — " And there was Cornelius, too, with his tongue of silver
and his soul of fire." One short sentence could not have better given his char-
acter as a preacher.
God blesses some men in the sacred olEce with peculiar personal, as well as
mental and spiritual, endowments; makes their ministry attractive and accepta-
ble by things which strike the eye and the ear pleasantly. When Mr. Cornelius
arose in the pulpit, the good-Mill and attention of the audience were at once and
eflFectually secured. A messenger of Divine truth stood before them, whose erect
and noble figure and commanding person gave impressions of more than common
dignity. A countenance full of the benignity of the " Gospel of Peace," and an
eye which seemed to see every hearer, and make each one feel that he saw him,
began the work of impression, even before the announcement of his text, or the
utterance of his first sentence. Then his clear, melodious, fuU-volumed voice
.seemed made for the proclamation of Divine truth. His elocution was distinct,
without preciseness; deliberate and easy, without formality or sluggishness; and
forcible, without excessive vehemence. When necessary and appropriate, his
delivery was rapid, but v/ithout haste or compromise of the dignity of pulpit
oratory. The modulations of his voice were skilfully varied, easy, and natural.
When the sentiment required, he could utter a sentence with a depth of intona-
tion, and a solemnity, directness, and weight of emphasis, which 1 have rarely
known equalled, — never surpassed. Ilis attitudes, movements, gestures, and
general expression of jjerson, were peculiarly dignified and graceful; yet without
his seeming to be anxious that they were so.
It appears remarkable that Mr. Cornelius and his friend, the Rev. Sylvester
Larned, — two young preachers so much alike in some of the capital points of
pulpit oratory, — should have been sent, in Divine providence, to labour together
in such a city as New Orleans was in 1817. Had inquiry been made through the
country for two men best adapted in personal as well as professional qualifica-
tions, and iu powers of atti'active speaking, to go to that wicked city and call
thoughtless men to hear the Gospel of Christ, no two could have been found to
surpass them. With perfect fraternity of feeling too, tlie}' met and pursued
their labours in that city; — Mr. Cornelius, on a temporary engagement, and Mr.
Larned, with reference to permanent establishment in the ministrj' there. Mr.
Cornelius loved, respected, and admired Mr. Larned; and Mr. Larned testified
how strong was the hold which Mr. Cornelius had taken upon his affections,
when, on a visit in New England, afterwards, he said in his characteristic and
noble-spirited manner, " That Cornelius, — he. ha^ a heart large enough to hold
the world.'*
From the fact that Mr. Cornelius' early preaching Avas principally extempore,
his manner combined simplicity and dignity in an unusual degree. This method
rendered his style a little diffuse at first. But the simplicity of manner which
it promoted, continued, when his pulpit style became formed; and when the
popular licentiate had become established in the habits of study and writing,
appropriate to the pastor of a large church and congregation.
To what extent, or by what particular methods, Mr. Cornelius cultivated pul-
pit elocution, is not known to me. It is obvious that he felt it not only important
to write a good sermon, but to do it, and the truth it contained, justice, by
preaching it well. Ilis example may be commended to all young preachers
-specially, who would early learn not to lose the intellectual toils of the .study
by a careless and slovenly delivery in the pulpit.
Excellent, however, as was the manner of his preaching, still more to be
commended was the matter of his sermons. One who often listened to him with
the feelings both of a Christian and of a scholar, has justly remarked of his
preaching, " It was doctrinal. He dwelt particularly on the essential truths and
duties of religion. It was concentrated; the ideas clustered around. <^t grew
()40 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
out of, the theme he Avas considering. It was eminently catliolic; his topics were
generally such as all evangelical Christians were agreed upon. It was strikingly
practical; his thougiits were designed and fitted to make an immediate impres-
sion on the feelings and conduct of his hearers : to be useful was his manifest
object."
Whenever he was called to state and defend what he believed to be the great
doctrines of the Gospel, whether in the pulpit or through the press, Mr. Cornelius
was firm and fearless to the utmost. lie aimed, at all times, so to set forth
Divine truth as to reach the conscience and take a strong grasp upon the heart.
And no one who sat under his ministry as a pastor, could say of him that he
shunned to " declare all the counsel of God."
Nor did he preach in vain. One who enjoyed opportunities for knowing, has
remarked to me, — " The instances were numerous in which, when he was travel-
ling, persons introduced themselves to him, and inquired whether he remembered
preaching at a certain place, mentioning tlie time, the text, &c., and then hj^ve
added that that sermon was God's instrument for their conversion."
Interesting as are these reminiscences of Dr. Cornelius as a preacher, equally
so are those which respect him in the domestic relations, in the walks of the
student, the pastor, and the public servant of Christ and the Church. We are
always interested to know what the faithful and eloquent preacher is in his home;
what as a husband, father, friend, neighbour, and one who receives and enter-
tains visitors; what he is also when abroad, a guest among his friends, or a
traveller among strangers.
The home of Dr. Cornelius always felt an influence comporting with the
impressions he made in the pulpit. There was no domestic incongruity with the
character in which he appeared in "the great congregation," as the earnest,
affectionate, fervid " ambassador for Christ." The husband, son, brother, father,
kinsman, friend, hospitable entertainer, and brother in the ministry, never dis-
honoured the eloquent preacher. He earnestly desired to have an elevated reli-
gious standard manifested in his family home. His public duties led him much
abroad and among strangers; and, at some periods of his life, into portions of the
country where he was to be seen, heard, and known, for a day only, or for a few
hours,- while he paused in his journey. It is not easy to explain how it was; but.
in a social, moral, and Christian sense, it might be said of him, as he moved along
the sea of human society, "he made a path to shine after him." Wherever he
went, he left impressions, by his preaching, conversation, efforts for the good and
happiness of those into whose society he was thrown, which were lasting as the
lives of those who were " to see his face no more." One secret of this was pro-
bably the kindness with which he ever treated those with whom he was sur-
rounded. He was never selfish in his deportment or manner, because he might
he where lie was not known. One who knew him as an intimate friend, said of
him, " I never once discovered in him an indication of selfishness ; he was remark-
ably unselfish." lie also remarked that in a long residence at the South and
West, and when he met with people who were interested in New England, he had
often asked if they had ever seen Mr. Cornehus. If they had, as was frequently
the fact, one of the first things of which they would speak was his kindness.
This same trait of character was manifest around his home, as well as among
strangers. The instances were many within a few months after his death, in
which persons little known to his family, — perhaps even entire strangers, would
speak to Mrs. Cornelius of him, and s.iy witli a sigh, " I lost a good friend when
he died;" or " He was very kind to me."
Connected with this point of reminiscence respecting Dr. Cornelius was his
courtesy, — the spontaneous expression of his benevolent and generous feelings;
flnd an amenity and readiness for interchange of views on subjects interesting to
men of intellect, science, taste, and general intelligence. These characteristics,
ELIAS CORNELIUS. 641
appearing in bun, when abroad and among strangers, rendered observing people
desirous to know who he was, and they caused him to be remembered almost with
the interest of personal friendship, by those who hack been once in his society.
While this was the fact, he himself was observant of character in those with
whom he met; and was ever interested in meeting with hitcUigent strangers, in
whom he discovered evidences of refined taste, cultivation, and just views of the
great interests of morals and rchgion.
In his views and habits as a student, Dr. Cornelius was enlarged and thorough.
He had no sympath}^ with those ready, superficial, and, in some sense, popular,
men, who rely upon the inspiration of that pressure into which indolent and
procrastinating habits bring them; or upon the spirit of occasions and the
impulse given by an audience, in substitution for the preparations for public duty
which should be made in the retirement of the closet and the study, and in " the
assurance of a good conscience," as respects the thorough investigation of subjects.
And when the call of duty separated him from his office as a pastor, and from his
studies as a preacher, it interrupted favourite plans and habits of study, which
had alread}- given him eminence in theological attainments. Had he continued a
pastor, the habits of study would have ensured him a still higher rank among the
strong mun of the New England ministry.
His character as a pastor harmonized with those of the student and preacher.
He loved and assiduously prosecuted the labours which were to be done from
" house to house," for the various purposes to be answered in pastoral visiting.
After he ceased to be a pastor, he delighted in such labours in vacant churches,
wlieu, from time to time, called to them. He was a faithful counsellor of the
anxious and inquiring sinner, and of the Christian experiencing the varied exer-
cises and vicissitudes of the religious life. His views were eminently sound on
the kind of instruction to be given to the sinner, whether unconcerned or awakened.
The anxious inquirer was sure to find him a faithful counsellor and guide. On
the style of Christian character to be promoted in the members of the church, his
sentiments were thoroughly tliose of the orthodox ministry in New England;
and his preaching, private instructions, and the kind of religious reading which
he recommended to Christians, were all adapted to promote a serious, deep-seated,
spiritual piety. The right formation of Christian character, as an object for the
constant contemplation of the pastor, was felt by him in its solemnity and
importance.
" To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction," and to make himself
the friend of the sick and the sorrowful, were objects which he kept ever in
view. The tender assiduities with which he laboured for the comfort and the
spiritual good of the afflicted, wherever they were to be found, were such as
became a "good minister of .Jesus Christ."
Tlie widows and orphans of deceased ministers especially received the tokens
of his kind sympathy and desire for their consolation and their comfortable
maintenance. It is worthy of notice that, much as he was devoted, in the latter
periods of his life, to objects of public benevolence, conducted upon a high and
extensive scale, yet no one could exceed him in giving attention to the niinutiae
of a case of this description, calling for his kind offices. He who was the suc-
cessful solicitor of thousands and ten thousands for the treasury of tlie Ameri-
can Education Society, or for the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign
Missions, could pause in his course for a few hours, and throw his whole soul
into an effort to raise a purse of a few hundreds for the widow of a poor minis-
ter, and, if need be, assist her in its advantageous investment or its judicious
expenditure.
It would not have been surprising if the man who had been such a preacher
and pastor, and whose domestic habits were .so happy, and his ties to home and
to parochial society so strong, had been spoiled for an executive officer of a great
Vol. 11. 81
542 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
benevolent association, who must give up residence at home for weeks and
months in succession, have his home every where, superintend hundreds of
young men in the course pf education for tlie ministry and scattered in a score
of Colleges, or concern himself for the missionaries of a great national Board
scattered in the ends of the earth. That Dr. Cornelius, however, was not unfit-
ted, by his habits as a pastor and a lover of home, for the duties of a Secretary
of a Society, is explained by this fact, — that, from the day of his conversion to
God, his affections and his services were pledged to the great cause of the world's
evangelization, in whatever field or line of service he should be needed. When,
therefore, he was transferred from a i)astorship to the oflSce of a Secretary, he
only passed from one loved sphere of labour to another; into the duties of which
he could enter with almost equal fervency. He had a soul to throw into a new
sphere with such ardour, that it seemed, in its wholeness, almost as though it was
his "first love." Nor did this arise from love of change. It was a power of
self-adaptation in mind and .soul to a new scene and work assigned him by his
Lord and Master, and by which he was prepared to labour any where lor the
good of mankind.
Dr. Cornelius ma}^ properly be regarded as the leader, if not the founder, of a
new profession in this country, — that of benevolent agency. He has left deep
and abiding impressions upon the American Churches of his wisdom, skill,
efficiency, and powers of persuasion and of eloquence in pleading the cause of
Christian missions especially. His principles of agency have been followed and
exemplified by every successful agent since his first services for the American
Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions; but no one has gone beyond him
in the acceptableness and success with which he performed his work. Divine
Providence seemed to have raised him up, to show how the claims of a dying
world can be pleaded to the heart of the Church, so as to be irresistible; so that
men not of a religious character should find it difficult to refuse his solicitations.
And yet Dr. Cornelius was not a man to pause in his work, and .say, " What
great things we have accomplished !" lie seemed to forget the things done, in hi.s
.serious and heart-felt contemplation of the much that remained to be done; and
anticipated au increase of the liberality of tlie churches, and an extension of the
scale on which benevolent enterprises Avould be conducted in future periods, in
comparison with which, all he saw done or helped to do, would be insignificant.
In this connection, should be noticed the impressions which Dr. Cornelius
made upon men in commercial life, — in his character and habits as an Agent of
Christian benevolence. Such was his energy, M'isdom, enterprise, and capacity
for transacting on a generous .scale, and for enlisting the feelings of the business
man in his counting-room or ware-house, that a gentleman of the city of New-
York once said of him, " Were Dr. Cornelius a merchant, it would be perfect
pleasure to me to go Avith him into an extensive commercial enterprise."
With all his activity and enterprise, however, he was eminently prayerful in
his habits. lie lias left impressions on this point upon the memories of his near
relatives and friends, which testify that he lived by that precept, " Pray without
ceasing." He seemed to love to be " in audience with the Deity." And in his
devotional habits is to be found the secret of his success in whatever he attempted
for the Kingdom of Christ.
There was in the character of Dr. Cornelius a remarkable and happy blending
of elements, which are not often combined in the same person. As prominent
may be mentioned the following. He was a man of great energy of character;
and yet there was a gentleness in him, which seemed to be in entire harmony
with his energy. He was possessed of great firmness and perseverance, and yet
he had not a particle of obstinacy. lie was independent in the fullest and best
sense of the word; and yet he was never wanting in a becoming deference to the
opinions and judgment of others. And with all these, when he was seeking know-
ELIAS CORNELIUS. 643
ledge and on the track of inquiry, there was a tractableness of spirit, which his
coadjutors have spoken of as child-like. Other like blendingsof the elements of
the strong man witli those of the tender-spirited Christian and the man of refine
ment and loveliness, might be mentioned; but these are .sufficient as illustrating
this general trait of character. They never made him to seem paradoxical or
inconsistent with himself ; but only showed him as uniting in himself traits of
character, which, in many other men, seem to have a separate existence.
Dr. Cornelius was in the habit of making very deliberate and solemn examina-
tions of questions of duty in which he was concerned. He was repeatedly called
to decide questions relative to his entrance upon important stations and services.
No man of his time was accustomed to approach a decision by a train of more
careful examination of the claims of the proposed object, of his own heart, and
of the reasons which should influence his decision, or more earnestly sought that
" wisdom which is from above" to direct his way. His decisions thus made
were firm as the mountains.
Dr. Cornelius seemed to have reached the height of his holiest aspirations, as
respected a station for usefulness, when he accepted the office of Corresponding
Secretary of the American Board of Commissioners4br Foreign Missions. When
appointed to that station, he was at the head of the American Education Society,
and had formed the system of Christian effort which was brought forward by
that Societj^ and which has been followed in some degree by several other Soci-
eties for raising up young men for the ministry. To his instrumentality, thus,
hundreds of young men have owed their attainment of the high privilege of
" preaching the unsearchable riches of Christ." But when the American Board
of Missions called him to be their principal executive officer, he felt that a ques-
tion was before him, of even higher interest and solemnity than he had ever
before contemplated. He advanced to that station with "prayer and fasting;"
with solemn, anxious, and yet heavenly aspirations, and as being conscious that
the eye of the Head of the Church was upon his every thought, wish, motive.
When he accepted the appointment, it was in theexerci,se of the deepest humility,
in a tenderness of spirit respecting the condition of the heathen world, an
intensity of solicitude to help on its conversion and salvation, which, united with
his surprising labours immediately undertaken, proved too much for even his
noble constitution.
The last month of his life which elapsed after Dr. Cornelius entered upon his
new office, was a month, the intense and solemn interest of which could be appre-
ciated by none but his familj'^, and could be fully known only by his Lord and
Master. It now appears that the Most High had given him to see, as he had
never seen before, the amazing scene of a dying world. And with this scene
before him, he could endure to exist, only in doing with his might whatsoever
his hand found to do, in spreading the Gospel of Christ's salvation. Meanwhile,
" what God was about to do " with him, his nearest and dearest friends then
dreamed not. But, during that last month, there was a solemnity in his conver-
sation, preaching, deportment, — an elevation, a heavenliness of his thoughts
expressed on the Kingdom of Christ, and a consecration of spirit to his Lord
and Saviour and to the interests of a perisliing world, which impressed the minds
of all in whose society he was.
And when he had so suddenly gone down to his grave, leaving his family,
friends, and the Churches of America, in tears; and when his fathers and
brethren in the Christian ministry, weeping, exclaimed, " How is the strong
staff broken and the beautiful 'rod!"— then was explained the mysterious
solemnity and the heavenly deportment which had been seen in him, in those, —
his last days on this side of Heaven. He seems to have heard a voice, perceived
by none else,— saying to him, '' The Master is come and calleth for thee."
With Christian salutations. 1 am, d-vir Sir. vours rcspootfully,
E. W. HOOKER
g44 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
LEVI PARSONS.=*
1817—1822.
Levi Parsons was the second son of the Rev. Justin and Electa
Parsons, and was bom in Goshen, Mass., July 18, 1792. In his childhood,
he was remarkable for a gentle and loving spirit, which gained the hearts of
all who knew him. His parents were earnestly desirous that he should
become a minister of the Gospel ; and they sent him abroad to school, in
the hope that that wish might ultimately be realized. lie was more or less
concerned for his salvation in his childhood and early youth ; but, during a
revival of religion in 1808, he became more deeply and permanently
impressed, and made a public profession of his faith by uniting with the
church under his father's pastoral care.
He became a member of Middlebury College in 1810, his father having
meanwhile removed with his family to Whiting, Vermont, and become the
pastor of the Congregational church in that place. During a revival in
Middlebury, which occurred soon after he entered College, he was thrown
into a state of spiritual anxiety and distress bordering on despair ; but though,
for a time, he believed' that he had never felt the power of religion, yet,
after he emerged from this state, he was still inclined to date his conversion
back to the period at which he had originally fixed it. From the time
that he regained a spirit of composure and trust in the Divine promises, he
manifested a greatly increased interest in religious things, so that this season
of despondency may be said at least to have exerted a happy influence upon
his spiritual progress.
While he was a member of College, owing to his somewhat straitened
worldly circumstances, he spent some of his vacations in teaching school.
He graduated, a highly respectable scholar, in 1814 ; and selected as the
subject of his exercise at Commencement, "The character of John Knox."
Almost immediately after leaving College, he joined the Theological
Seminary at Andover. He had been, for years, silently agitating the question
whether it might not be bis duty to engage in the work of foreign missions ;
but it was not till some time in the year 1816, that his mind was definitely
made up in favour of such a course. During his connection with the Seminary,
he showed himself most intent on doing good ; and he accounted it a great
privilege when, in any of his vacations, he could find an opportunity to
labour in a revival of religion.
Mr. Parsons was licensed to preach by the Salem Association, about the
close of April, 1817. Being immediately after appointed an agent of the
American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, to solicit pecuniary
contributions for the Society, he repaired to Vermont, and entered on his
agency. Having spent a number of weeks in this service, he returned to
Andover, and in September following took leave of the Theological Semi-
nary, having accomplished the prescribed course of study.
On the 3d of September, he was ordained to the work of a minister and
a missionary, in Park Street Church, Boston, at the same time that the
Rev. Sereno E. Dwight was ordained as pastor of that church, and several
•Memoir by Morton.
LEVI PARSONS. 645
young TiiPn were set apart as missionaries. The sermon on the occasion
was preached by the Rov. Dr. Lyman Beecher, and has had an enduring
celebrity.
Mr. Parsons, feeling a deep interest in the religious welfare of Vermont, —
the State in which he had spent a considerable portion of his life, — accepted
an appointment from the Vermont Missionary Society to labour awhile in
some of their destitute towns, previous to his departure from the country.
He continued thus engaged, witnessing in some instances the most favoura-
ble results from his labours, until the close of September, 1818, when he
left the service of the Society, to make the requisite preparation for embark-
ing for the East. After this, however, the Prudential Committee of the
American Board thought proper to send him on an agency into the State
of New York ; and he, accordingly, in the early part of November, left
Boston to fulfil this somewhat unexpected appointment. In this agency he
laboured eight months, and returned to Andover about the 1st of July,
1819. On the 15th of October, he attended the organization of the Mission
church at Boston, which was destined to carry the Gospel to the Sandwich
Islands. The next day, he set out to make his farewell visit to his relatives
in Vermont ; and he was enabled to sustain himself, throughout the aflfecting
scene, with the utmost composure and dignity.
On the morning of the od of November, 1819, Mr. Parsons sailed for
Symrna, in company with his friend and fellow labourer, Pliny Fisk. Having
stopped, for a short time, at Malta, they continued their voyage, and arrived
at Smyrna on the 15th of January, 1820. Here they remained till the
10th of May, and then sailed for the Island of Scio, where they continued,
pursuing their studies, and performing labours of love among the inhabitants,
till the close of November, when they returned to Smyrna.
In order to the carrying out of the object of the mission, it became neces-
sary that either Mr. Parsons or Mr. Fisk should proceed to Palestine, with
a view to ascertain what arrangements could be made there for a permanent
missionary establishment. It was agreed that IMr. Parsons should undertake
this service ; and, accordingly, he embarked, on the 5th of December, for the
Isle of Cyprus, where he arrived, after a dreary passage, on the 25th of
January, 1821. Here he was received with great cordiality, especially by
a (j reek Bishop, who had two hundred churches under his direction. After
stopping here a few days, he proceeded on his way to Jaffa, the ship's
ultimate destination. Here he received from two English travellers the
somewhat startling inttdllgcnce that, in consequence of the arrival of a new
Governor at Jerusalem, the country was rising into a state of revolt, and
that it was hazardous to travel in that direction. He, however, felt it his
duty to proceed on his journey, and reached Jerusalem in safety on the 12th
of February.
Mr. Parsons remained in the Holy City nearly three months, during
which time he received great kindness from the Bishops and Priests, and
enjoyed every facility for prosecuting his inquiries and investigations with
reference to the numerous localities and monuments which are especially
consecrated by Scripture associations. From the time that he arrived in
Jerusalem till he finally left it, he sold ninety-nine copies of the Psalter ;
and from the time of his leaving Smyrna, he sold forty-one Greek Testa-
ments, two Persian, seven Armenian, one Italian, besides distributing
gratuitously quite a number in different languages. The result of his visit
g46 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
was a full conviction that there was an opening for a mission at Jerusalem,
Well worthy of the consideration of the American Board.
On the 8th of May, he left Jerusalem for Jaifa, and on his arrival at the
latter place, found a vessel bound to Scio, in which he immediately took
passage. This he did the rather, as he learned that on account of the
deadly hostility that existed between the Greeks and Turks, it would be
dangerous for him to remain longer in that region. He made the voyage,
not however without great peril ; and on two different occasions while he
was on board the ship, there were hostile demonstrations of a most threat-
ning character. He, however, arrived at Samos in safety, where he gratefully
accepted the hospitalities of the English consul and remained for some time.
His health had now become considerably impaired, and he was advised to
take a short voyage, as a means of restoring it. He accordingly left Samos,
on the 29th of June, in a Genoese vessel for Tinos ; but, in consequence of
a violent wind, the Captain found it impossible to enter that port, and laid
his course for Syra, — another island in the same neighbourhood, which, being
under the protection of the French flag, afforded a safe retreat from the
alarm and agitation incident to the war.
Mr. Parsons, though not in vigorous health, continued his labours here
till the latter part of August, when he became suddenly and alarmingly ill,
and for twenty days was entirely bereft of reason, and for fifty, was confined
to his chamber. When his health was so far recovered as to justify him in
attempting to travel, he sailed from Syra to Smyrna, and arrived at the
latter place on the 3d of December, where he had the pleasure of again
meeting his colleague, Mr. Fisk, after a year's separation.
It was now no longer a matter of doubt that disease had taken such strong
hold of Mr. Parsons' constitution, as to require immediate and careful
attention ; and, by the advice of a physician at Smyrna, it was determined
that he should try the effect of a voyage to Egypt. Arrangements were
accordingly made for his speedy departure, and Mr. Fisk accompanied him.
They reached Alexandria from Smyrna on the 14th of January, after
a passage of five days ; but the passage evidently served to reduce Mr.
Parsons' strength, rather than increase it. From this time his disease, which
was a species of consumption, made constant progress; and, though he noted
each successive step, his mind was uniformly in a state of perfect tranquillity.
He died on the morning of the 11th of February, 1822, being within five
months of thirty years of age. His funeral was attended on the afternoon
of the same day, by several English gentlemen, the captains of ships, a
large number of the Maltese, and several merchants from different parts of
Europe. As the Maltese understood Italian and not English, Mr. Fisk
read to them in Italian, as they came in a little before the funeral, a portion
of Scripture suited to the occasion ; after which, they moved in procession
to the grave. The body was interred at the church yard in the Greek
convent, where the English, resident at Alexandria, usually bury their
dead.
FROM THE REV. GEORGE A. CALHOUN, D. D.
Coventry, Conn., January 12, 1853.
Rev. and dear Sir: It was in tlie autumn of 1814, that, as a student, I first
took my place in tlie Lecture Room of the Andover Theological Seminary. There
I found myself in company with twenty-two young men, — most of them strangers
LEVI PARSONS. 647
to me, who had devoted themselves to the ministry of the Gospel, and who, with
myself, were about to commence a course of preparation for it. Looking around
on these strangers, who were to be my future class-mates and associates, my
attention was arrested by the appearance of two of the brethren, who sat near
to each other. In their form, age, outline, features, and tones of voice, they
strikingly resembled each other. They were rather below the common stature,
well proportioned, more youthful than the majority of the class, and very amia-
ble in their appearance. On inquiry, I was informed that thej'- had just gradua-
ted at Middlebury College, where they were class-mates and room-mates; that
they also occupied the same room in the Seminary, and that one was Levi Par-
sons of Pittsfield, Vt., and the other, Philanthropos Perry of Cleaveland, Ohio.
Mr. Parsons had rather more maturity of age, and appeared as if he might be
the leading spirit of the two. While his appearance was quite youthful, it by
no means indicated the want of mental culture : indeed it was more than com-
monly attractive, and at once bespoke the favour of all who saw him. The
engraving attached to the "Life of Parsons" does injustice to his appearance,
and I have never looked upon it with pleasure.
Subsequent acquaintance with Mr. Parsons confirmed my first impressions in
regard to the amiableness of his character; but the recitation room is the place
where intellectual powers and mental acquisitions are developed. There he held
a respectable standing among his associates. Though his mind was not one of
remarkable force or brilliancy, his judgment was very sound, and his faculties
altogether well balanced. His disposition was unusually modest and benevolent,
his manners winning, and his intercourse with his instructers and fellow students
well fitted to secure their respect and esteem.
But the most prominent feature in Parsons' character, was his ardent piety.
In this he was eminent among his associates; and most of the time he appeared
to enjoy, in an unusual degree, the presence of God.
In March, 1815, a day of Humiliation, Fasting, and Prayer was observed by
the ofiicers and students of the Seminary. I have a vivid recollection of it, as a
day of the right hand of the Most High in that School of the Prophets. In the
former part of the day, the students, in separate classes, met for prayer and con-
versation. I never can forget the scene of that meeting, — the shining faces, the
earnest supplications, and the joyous expressions, of two of our number, who
are now mingling together in yet brighter scenes, — namely. Parsons and Baldwin.
Evidently did Parsons, in connection with that occasion, receive a baptism from
on high to prepare him for his future labours, and especially for the endurance
of the afflictions with which his Heavenly Father was about to visit him. About
this time, disease selected the beloved Perry for its victim. And while a
quick consumption was hastening him to the grave, Parsons, with the fondness
of a brother's love, watched over him, day and night, and administered to him
the consolations of the Gospel. Their souls had long been knit together, and
they had fondly hoped that they sliould not be separated in the field of their
future labours. But Mr. Perry was cut down like "a morning flower"; "and
devout men carried " him "to his burial, and made a great lamentation over
him." It was not long before Mr. Parsons was again called to drink of the bitter
cup. His youngest sister whom he ardently loved, and for whose conversion he
had prayed and laboured much, it pleased God to take away by death. He was
greatly afflicted, but he manifested a cheerful and submissive spirit.
Those who have read the " Life of Parsons," are informed of the great success
in winning souls to Christ, and in collecting funds in aid of the mission to Jeru-
salem, which attended his labours, while he remained in this country. He was
a very acceptable preacher, and a great favourite in the churches which he visited.
And this resulted not from the intellectual power, originality of thought, or cul
tivated taste, displayed in his sermons, but rather from a plain, simple, judicious
g^g TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
exhibition of the Gospel, attended with gentleness, tenderness, and ardent love
for the souls of men. His hearers were convinced that, though a young man,
he was a man of God, walking with God, and preferring the glory of God in the
salvation of men to all other considerations.
My intimate acquaintance with this beloved class-mate and brother in Christ
led me to expect for him a useful life, however short, and a peaceful death; and
I was not suprised to learn that, at Alexandria in Egypt, in the thirtieth year of
his age, three days before his death, he should give utterance to his emotions in
a strain like the following: — " Aly mortal frame grows weaker every hour; but
my imperishable spirit becomes more and more vigorous. The world fades away
and recedes from my view; while Heaven comes nearer and grows brighter. The
world will soon vanish forever, and all will soon be Heaven."
I am, dear Sir, yours truly,
G. A. CALHOUN
ORIN FOWLER.*
1817— J852.
Orin Fowler, the eldest son and sixth child of Captain Amos and
Rebecca (Dewey) Fowler, was born at Lebanon, Conn., July 29, 1791.
His early years were spent in labouring upon his father's farm ; though he
was engaged for two winters, — when he was sixteen and seventeen years
old, — in teaching a school. He fitted for College under the instruction of
his pastor, the Rev. Mr. Ripley, and entered Williams College in the
autumn of 1811. At the end of the first term, he took his dismission ;
and, after studying again, for a while, under Mr. Ripley, and also, for one
term, at the Academy at Colchester, he entered the Sophomore class in Yale
College in October, 1812. Here he maintained an excellent standing as a
scholar, being distinguished in the more solid, rather than in the more
graceful, branches. A few months previous to his gi'aduation, he accepted
the Preceptorship of the Academy at Fairfield, Conn., and held the place, —
discharging its duties with great fidelity and acceptance, — until the autumn of
1816, when he resigned it, that he might devote himself more exclusively
to theological studies, — Dr. Humphrey, then minister of Fairfield, after-
wards President of Amherst College, taking the direction of them. He
was licensed to preach on the 14th of October, 1817, by the Association
of the Western District of Fairfield county.
Having preached occasionally in dift'erent places, chiefly in Fairfield
county, but without any reference to settlement, he decided, in March,
1818, to go on a mission to the Western country. He was ordained with
a view to this at Farmington, at a meeting of the North Association of
Hartford county, on the 3d of June following, and the same day rode
twenty-one miles toward his field of missionary labour. Having spent
about one year labouring in Ohio, Kentucky, and Indiana, and perhaps
some other of the Southwestern States, he returned to New England, by
way of Virginia, in the summer of 1819.
* MS. from Mrs. Fowler. — Spoecli of the lion. Zeno Scuddor, on announcing his death to the
Hvose of Representatives.
ORIN FOWLER. 649
Having preached with acceptance at several different places, he accepted
an invitation to supply the pulpit at Plainfield, Conn,, in the winter of
1819-20, and shortly after received a call to become the pastor of the
church. In due time, he signified his acceptance of it, and was installed
on the 1st of March, 1820.
Mr. Fowler remained the pastor of the church at Plainfield for nearly
eleven years, when, owing to some peculiar circumstances existing in the
parish, it was thought expedient that he should be dismissed from his pas-
toral charge ; and this, accordingly, took place on the 27th of January,
1831. The Council, in dissolving the pastoral relation, rendered an
unqualified testimony to his Christian and ministerial character.
Almost immediately after leaving Plainfield, his services were required
by the church at Fall River ; and he was installed there on the 7th of July
of the same year ; the installation sermon being preached by the Rev. Dr.
McEwen of New London.
In the year 1841, Mr. Fowler delivered three discourses containing an
historical sketch of Fall River from 1620 to that time. In this sketch he
referred to the boundary line between Massachusetts and Rhode Island,
that had then been in dispute for about a century. Not long after, at a
meeting of the citizens of Fall River on the subject of the boundary, Mr.
Fowler, without his consent or even knowledge, was placed upon a com-
mittee to defend the interests of the town before Commissioners appointed
by the two States. This service he promptly and ably performed ; but the
Commissioners came to a decision in which the people of Fall River were
little disposed to acquiesce ; and they resolved upon an effort to prevent
the establishment by the Massachusetts Legislature of the line fixed upon
by the Commissioners. Mr. Fowler now published a series of papers in the
Boston Atlas designed to present before the public mind the historical facts
sustaining the claims of Massachusetts ; but even his most intimate friends
did not know that he was the author of them. When the authorship was
ascertained, there was a general voice in favour of his being chosen to the
Senate of the Commonwealth, at the next session of the Legislature. He
was accordingly elected in the autumn of 1847, and the Senate, chiefly, it
is said, through his influence, rejected the Report of the Commissioners by
a unanimous vote. Such was the estimation in which he came now to be held
J as a legislator, that in the autumn of 1848, before his senatorial term had
* expired, the people of his district elected him to the thirty-first Congress.
Here his influence was extensively and benignly felt, and his advocacy of the
i cheap postage bill particularly is said to have been highly effective.
Mr. Fowler, during the time that he was a member of the Massachusetts
Senate, supplied his own pulpit, either in person or by proxy, and continued
^ to perform his pastoral duties until the last of November, 1849, when he
left Fall River to take his seat in Congress. Agreeably to a previous
understanding, he was dismissed from his pastoral charge by the same
council that installed his successor in the spring of 1850. During his con-
nection with Congress, he often supplied the pulpits in Washington and the
vicinity, and preached for the last time in the autumn of 1851.
On the night of the 27th of August, 1852, he had a slight attack of
illness ; but the next day was able to be in his seat in Congress as usual.
A day or two after, the attack was repeated, but relief was again obtained,
after a few hours. It was soon found, however, that his disease so far from
Vol. II. 82
g50 TRINITARIAN^ CONGREGATIONAL.
being dislodged from his system, was taking on an alarming form, and that'
his system was rapidly sinking under it. After he became convinced that
his recovei'y was hopeless, he requested to be left alone with his wife, when
he offered a comprehensive and affecting prayer, without wandering or
repetition, — mentioning especially both the churches of which he had been
pastor. After this, he began to speak of his spiritual state, and said — "I
have tried to live in peace with God and man ;" but the difficulty of respi-
ration did not allow him to proceed. He languished until the 3d of Sep-
tember, and then gently fell into his last slumber. His remains were taken
for burial to Fall Ptiver, and were received by his former charge as well as
his fellow citizens generally with every testimony of consideration and
respect. His funeral sermon was preached by his successor, the Rev. Mr.
Relyea.
Mr. Fowler was married October 16, 1821, to Amaryllis, fourth daughter
of John How Payson of Porafret, Conn. They had no children.
Besides various speeches in Congress and contributions to periodicals,
newspapers, &c., Mr. Fowler published a Sermon at the ordination of
Israel Gr. Rose at Canterbury, 1825 ; a Disquisition on the evils attending
the use of Tobacco, 1833 ; Lectures on the mode and subjects of Baptism,
1835; History of Fall River, 1841 ; Papers on the Boundary, 1847.
I have many pleasant recollections of Mr. Fowler ; for he was my class-
mate in College, and though our fields of labour were always somewhat
remote from each other, I saw him not unfroquently, and we were ever in
the most agreeable relations. He had rather a large frame, indicating what
he really possessed, — a vigorous constitution; an open, manly, and intelli-
gent countenance ; an air of great dignity, — bordering perhaps a little upon
stateliness ; a mind of much more than ordinary capacity, — always delight-
ing in hard labour ; an eminently social and friendly spirit ; and a disposi-
tion to turn all his talents and opportunities of doing good to the best
account. All that I knew of him fully accords with the testimony rendered
concerning him by his friend and neighbour, the Rev. Dr. Shepard.
FROM THE REV. THOMAS SHEPARD, D. D.
Bristol, R. I., July 5, 1856.
My dear Sir: During the last seventeen years of Mr. Fowler's life, he was one
of my nearest ministerial neighbours. From the fact that a portion of his con-
gregation lived across the line, within the bounds of our State, he and his church
became connected with our Consociation. He was also an active member of our
Association, a body composed wholly of ministers, and meeting quarterly.
With him it was a matter of principle to be always present at the stated meet-
ings of both these bodies, and punctually so at their opening, unless providen-
tially prevented, which seldom happened. Before the construction of railroads
in this vicinity, he travelled in his own carriage. And so uniform was his arrival
at the place of meeting, that the brother at whose house we met, could calcu-
late, by reference to his watch, very nearly the moment when the well known
horse and chaise would be seen entering his door-yard. Seneca was wont to say,
that "time is the only thing of which it is a virtue to be covetous." This
virtue Mr. Fowler possessed in an eminent degree. He enjoyed vigorous health;
rose early, — generally, I believe, at four in summer and five in winter; took
exercise about his garden, barn, and wood-house; and was ready to sit down
earlj- in his study, which he rarely left until one o'clock. The afternoon was
usually spent in parochial visits.
I
ORIN FOWLER. 651
Mr. Fowler's mind was not of that class which take in things intuitively. He
was a severe student. His books of Hebrew, and Greek, and historical refer-
ence were always near by, and showed marks of being often used. The bent of
his mind was rather for facts, than consecutive reasoning. He made thorough
work with historical documents. His most elaborate performance for a single
discourse, was a Lyceum " Lecture on Cotton," which was listened to by large
audiences, in several manufacturing towns, with deep interest.
Mr. Fowler was a man of unbending principles. He entered understandingly
and thoroughly into the more conservative reforms of the times in which he
lived. He was the known friend of the strict observance of the Sabbath, of
total abstinence from the use of intoxicating liquors and of tobacco in all its
forms. He was a consistent and persistent enemy to slaverj-, though by no
means what would be called an ultra abolitionist. His robust, healthy physical
form, his distinct emphatic accentuation, and, above all, the plain Saxon English
in which he was accustomed to utter his sentiments from the pulpit and the plat-
form, sometimes gave the impression that he was denunciatory and overbearing.
If such were occasional!}' the indications of "his public or private addresses, it
was to be attributed to the manner, and not to the disposition of the man. He
was earnest in M'hat he believed to be right, but ever willing to concede the same
to others Avho differed from him, and to weigh their arguments with candour.
Seldom, if ever, have I been acquainted with a pastor who could perform unre
mittingly such an amount of labour. His ministr}-, as might be expected,
though not without its trials, was successful. He did not deem it derogatory to
the character of a student or a minister of the Gospel, to use a wise forethought
in the various branches of domestic economy. He was accustomed to expect and
receive prompt pa3'ments from his parish, and those merchants who supplied him
with groceries and articles of ajiparcl, could calculate without failure upon the
very day on which their bills would be settled. Does it diminish aught from the
reputation of a minister to say that he was a thorough economist .''
Mr. Fowler's transition from the ministerial office to that of the statesman,
was a matter of surprise to some, and of reprehension with others. And it
must be confessed that there is something apparently out of place in turning
aside from the high and holy office of the Christian ministrj*, after having borne
it with success for thirty years, to take up the business of legislation. At the
same time, a little reflection will convince us that there are circumstances in
which it may be right and consistent to make such a change. Else why did some
of the ablest and most excellent Divines, of our country, in its earlier history,
adopt such a course .'* The same district represented by Mr. Fowler, in the Con-
gress of the United States, had been previously represented by two distinguished
ministers of the Gospel. My space forbids that I should here go into a detail of
the reasons which induced our friend to consent to occupy those eminent stations
in political life, to which he was introduced without any agency of his own.
Being on terms of confidence with him, he unbosomed his mind to me on the
subject, as he probably did to no other brother. And suffice it to sa}' that I was
.satisfied that he was following the evident leading of Providence, in accepting the
offices of State, Avhich were repeatedh' imposed upon liim by the free suffrages of
his fellow citizens.
The abandonment of the ministry, so far as preaching the Gospel is concerned,
never entered the mind of Mr. Fowler. And he never did thus abandon it. He
preached while at "Washington, wherever and whenever there was a destitute con-
gregation that needed his services. He was in the habit of attending a weekly
prayer-meeting, composed of pious members of both houses, — himself being the
life and soul of it. When at home in Fall River, he preached in the neighbour-
ing pulpits, as his labours were desired, with even greater unction and earnest-
ness, in the opinion of many of his hearers, than in preceding years. Often
652 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
have I heard him say, — " I may never again become a settled pastor, but ray
chosen profession is to preach Christ and Ilim crucified, and, God giving me
strength, I intend to do this, wherever there is an opening, while I live."
The labours of representing a populous and wealtliy district in Congress were
too complicated and onerous even for his iron constitution. Before the close of
his first term of two j^cars, his health failed. Travelling so far restored him, as
to lead him and his friends to hope that he might go through the second period,
for which he had been elected with greater unanimity than at the first. But
their hopes were disappointed. That same indomitable disposition to do up all
the work that came before him, and to do it punctually and satisfactorily to all
concerned, became the shaft that pierced his heart and let out the current of life.
With sincere esteem, I remain as ever,
Your obedient servant in the Gospel,
THOMAS SHEPARD.
CARLOS WILCOX*
1818—1827.
Carlos Wilcox was a son of Ebenezer and Thankful (Stevens) Wilcox,
and was born at Newport, N. H., October 22, 1794. Both his parents were
worthy Christian people ; and his mother particularly was distinguished, not
only for great gentleness and sweetness of character, but for a well balanced
and well cultivated mind. He was the eldest child of his parents. His
mother, on whom chiefly devolved the care of educating him during his
earliest years, has given the following account of the developments of his
childhood : — " As soon as he began to talk, I began to teach him to repeat
the Lord's prayer, the Assembly's Catechism, and dev^otional Hymns. He
was very active and appeared much delighted in receiving instruction. He
early showed a great fondness for books. When only two years old, he
would ask me to instruct him. AVhen I was engaged in necessary domestic
avocations, and informed him that he must wait, he would stay by me or
follow me, with his book in his hand, until he had repeated his lesson. The
winter after he was two yeai-s old, while sitting by his father, and seeing
him at work, after watching him a considerable time in silence, with great
earnestness he exclaimed, ' Papa, what are you doing ? Making all things
out of nothing by the word of your power? ' He could read and spell cor-
rectly before he attende 1 any school. He was healthy, active, persevering,
in every thing he did, whether at his lessons, work, or amusement."
When he was about four years old, his parents removed to Orwell, Vt.,
where the period of his youth was chiefly spent. He had a naturally good
constitution, but in his tentli year he gave himself a wound in his knee with
an axe, which cost him much suff"ering, and the eff'ects of which continued to
the close of his life. During the period when his suffering was the greatest,
he evinced a dignified patience and calmness that might have put to shame
many persons of mature age ; and so deeply was his physician impressed
by it, that twenty years after, he spoke of it with deep emotion. When he
was so far recovered as to be able, by the use of crutches, to make his way
to the school house, he eagerly availed himself of the privilege of being
* Memoir by Eev. L. Hyde.
I
CARLOS WILCOX. G53
there, and his proficiency showed a rare measure of both talent and diligence.
Being, by this casualty, disabled for agricultural labour, and exhibiting, at
the same time, very uncommon intellectual tastes, his father resolved to
assist him in obtaining a collegiate education. When he was in his thirteenth
year, he was sent to an Academy at Castleton, where he soon acquired much
distinction as a scholar ; and at fourteen he was well prepared to enter Col-
lege ; and, but for his youth and feeble health, would actually have offered
himself for admission. About this time, he had some alarming symptoms of
a pulmonary affection ; but, in the summer following, his health considerably
improved, so that his parents consented that he should review his studies
with reference to joining College. Accordingly, he entered at Middlebury
in September, 1809.
During his whole college course, his behaviour was most exemplary, and
as a scholar he stood at the head of his class. He excelled especially in
the languages and belles lettres, and most of all as a writer ; and in the
course of his Junior year, he wrote, and pronounced, at a public exhibition,
a poem which was received with marked favour. He graduated in 1813,
with the highest honour.
Notwithstanding he had had a religious education, and, no doubt, as the
result of it, many serious impressions, his mind seems never to have taken
a decidedly religious direction, till after his admission to College. During
his Freshman year, religion became a subject of great and general con-
cern in Middlebury, and then, for the first time, he was brought to
realize deeply his own sinfulness and the importance of looking to Christ
for salvation. His exercises at this period, as described by himself in a
letter to his parents, were of the most pungent and overwhelming kind ; but
the gloom of his mind finally vanished, and the joy and peace in believing
succeeded. From this time, he resolved to devote himself, not only to the
service of his lledeemer, but, also, if the way should be open, to the
Chi'istian ministry.
Mr. Wilcox spent part of the winter immediately succeeding his gradua-
tion, with a maternal uncle in Georgia ; and then returned and made his
preparation for commencing the study of Theology. He joined the Theo-
logical Seminary at Andover in the autumn of 1814. During the succeed-
ing winter, his health was so delicate that he was obliged to omit some of
the exercises of his class.
While a student at College, he had begun to develop a pretty strong pas-
sion for poetiy ; and his most cherished desire now was to serve his Master
by composing a lofty song of praise to Him, taking "Benevolence" as his
theme. His friends to whom he communicated this fact, earnestly advised
him to hold fast to his original purpose of entering the ministry. One of
them whose judgment he highly valued, wrote to him as follows: — " I have
no objections to your drmking occasionally at the fount of Helicon ; but I
have great fears that you will tumble in and be drowned." ■
Mr. Wilcox finished the prescribed course of study at Andover in 1817,
and remained, several months after, a resident graduate. In the spring of
1818, he returned to his father's house, where he spent a year, during which
he projected the plan of his poem, entitled the "Age of Benevolence." At
the close of the year, his health being considerably improved, he commenced
preaching, and preached, with scarcely the intermission of a Sabbath, for
twelve months. The first three months he preached at Pittstown, N. Y.;
654 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
after which, he visited the Western part of Connecticut, and preached
in Huntington, (New Stratford Society, — now Monroe,) Newtown, and
Norwalk.
He left Norwalk about the first of April, 1820, after a sojourn there of
some three months ; and, by relaxation and exercise, considerably improved
his health, which had been, for some time, not a little reduced. But he still
clung to his favourite idea of writing a poem ; and the next two years, with
the exception of a few weeks, were employed at the house of a friend in
Salisbury, in endeavouring to carry out his purpose. He found the labour,
however, much greater than he had anticipated ; and, instead of accomplish-
ing the whole in a few months, he had only completed the first book after
the lapse of two years. In connection with this, he prosecuted literary
pursuits of a more general kind, while he was all the time a diligent student
of Theology, especially as it lies in the Bible. During these two years, his
life was, for tlie most part, one of great retirement ; but he was uniformly
cheerful, and when he allowed himself to mingle in society, he was always
both agreeable and instructive. He preached a few times, but never with-
out suffering from an aggravation of his disease, which was now ascertained
to be an affection of the heart.
In the spring of 1821, he spent about ten weeks in the family of a friend
at East Haven, which he regarded as one of the happiest periods of his life.
At the expiration of the second year, he had extended his poem to about
nine thousand lines, and had prepared tlie first book for the press. By the
advice of a friend in whom he reposed great confidence, but contrary to the
judgment of almost all others whom he consulted, he determined to publish
the first book by itself, intending to follow it with the remaining parts of the
work. His sensitive mind was not a little disturbed by the carelessness of
both the printer and the binder, which led him, about that time, to begin a
letter lo one of his friends, with — " Oh that mine enemy had written a
book ! " A thousand copies were printed, and met with as ready a sale as
could reasonably have been expected, considering that it was only a
fragment.
He seems now to have been deeply impressed with the idea that he must
preach the Gospel, even though his health should fail, and his life be cut
short, by the effort. He did not, however, despair of finishing his poem,
and supposed that he might proceed with it, in connection with his labour.s
as a minister, — perhaps at the rate of one book in a year. He was still
indebted several hundred dollars to his father for his education, and this
seems to have rested as a heavy weight upon his conscience, as well as upon
his generous filial sensibilities.
In December, 1823, he received an invitation to become the pastor of the
chui'ch in Southbury, Conn. He was somewhat inclined to accept it, espe-
cially as he had become tired of being without a home ; but, after mature
reflection, he came to the conclusion that that was not the place that Provi-
dence had designed for him, and therefore declined the call.
During the summer of 1824, he was chiefly occupied in writing a poem,
which he pronounced before the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Yale College,
at its succeeding anniversary. This was among the last of las literary labours.
About this time, he accepted an invitation to preach as a candidate for
settlement in the North Society in Hartford, which had then just been
organized. His labours there were highly acceptable, and, about the begin-
CARLOS WILCOX.
555
ning of October, they gave him a call to become their minister. He
accepted it with great diffidence, and was ordained in December following —
the ordination sermon was preached by the Rev, Dr. Spring of New York.
He was exceedingly happy in his new relation, and, as far as his charac-
ter and services were concerned, was every thing to his people, both in the
pulpit and out of it, that they could desire. Nothing seemed to cast a shade
over their prospects, but the uncertain and at best feeble state of his health.
Much as he delighted in the appropriate duties of the pastoral office, it soon
became apparent to himself that he could not long sustain the amount of
labour that was devolved on him. His sermons were not only written with
great care, but were delivered with much feeling ; so that the studies of the
week and the exercises of the Sabbath completely exhausted him. In the
summer of 1825, he was absent from his people about two months, for the
benefit of his health, when he visited his parents in Vermont, for the last
time. He returned to Hartford in September, and resumed his labours,
though without much expectation of being able long to continue them.
Before the close of the year, his disease had made such progress that he
considered it as past all doubt that he must resign his charge ; and, on the
1st of March, 1826, he actually addressed a letter to the society, tendering
his resignation. Unwilling that the relation should be dissolved till every
possible expedient had been tried for the recovery of his health, they voted
unanimously to grant him leave of absence for a year, with the continuance
of his salary. But so fully persuaded was he that such an experiment would
only disappoint them, that he declined the generous proposal. He was
accordingly dismissed by an ecclesiastical council, amidst expressions of
affection and regret on the part of his people, which quite overpowered his
exquisite sensibilities.
Shortly after passing through this severe trial, he went to Newport,
intending to pass some time there for the sake of bathing in the surf, and
enjoying the sea breezes. But, after remaining about a fortnight, he found
that the damp air was manifestly unfavourable to him, producing a stricture in
his breast, attended with pain and soreness. He left Newport about the 15th
of July, with a view to make a tour into the Northern part of New Eng-
land, including an excursion to the White Mountains. It so happened that
he arrived at the White Mountains immediately after the desolating storm
in which the family of Mr. Willey perished, and by which the whole neigh-
bourhood was thrown into unprecedented consternation. Mr. Wilcox, on
his arrival at Hanover, a few days after, wrote a letter containing a most
graphic description of the terrible scene, which was published in many of
the newspapers of the day, and attracted great attention.
After passing the summer of 1826 in journeying and visiting various
places, he stopped during the autumn in Boston, and preached there almost
every Sabbath. Near the close of the year, he accepted an invitation to
supply the pulpit in Danbury, Conn. He arrived there sometime in Decem-
ber, and entered upon his labours with a good degree of alacrity, and
with somewhat improved health. But, about the middle of January, he
began to suffer from an inflammation of the throat, accompanied with a
severe cough, which, however, did not oblige him immediately to discontinue
his public labours. After a few Sabbaths, however, he found himself inad-
equate to the effort of preaching, and from that time he gradually declined,
though not without occasional intervals of hopeful improvement. By the
656 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
middle of May, his disease had made -such progress that he could no longer
doubt that the time of his departure was drawing near, and ho set himself
to arrange his affairs with reference to the expected change. From this
time, his mind seemed entirely absorbed in invisible and eternal realities.
Not a few of his apt and impressive sayings were preserved, which show
how sublime and heavenly were the tendencies of his spirit, while it was yet
lingering on the shores of mortality. His last words were — "I have some
hope, all my hope is in the promises of God in Christ Jesus." He died on
the "iOth of May, 1827. His funeral was attended at Danbury, and there
his remains were first interred ; but they were afterwards removed to Hart-
ford, and buried in the North Cemetery.
After his death, a volume was published containing a memoir of his life,
his " Age of Benevolence," and Poem before the Society of Phi Beta
Kappa, together with a selection of his Sermons. One of the Sermons had
been previously published in the National Preacher.
I became acquainted with Mr. Wilcox about the time of his settlement
in Hartford, and during his residence there frequently met him, and in one
instance exchanged pulpits with him. He always impressed me as a most
gentle, amiable, and loving spirit, with as much of the ethereal in his coun-
tenance as I remember almost ever to have seen. It was manifest that he
was struggling with disease ; and yet I never saw him when he was not
entirely cheerful, though it was evidently the cheerfulness of a very devout
spirit, and was qualified by great humility. He seemed to rejoice in every
one's happiness, and to regard it a privilege to do all in his power to pro-
mote it. There was poetry in his countenance and manners, as well as iu
his mind and heart.
FROM THE REV. JOEL HAWES, D. D.
Hartford, November 10, 1852.
My dear Brother: Your request for my recollections of the Rev. Carlos Wilcox
carries me back to the earlier periods of my life. Our first meeting was at the
Theological Seminary at Andover, where we were students together, and were in
habits of daily fraternal intercourse; and our intimacy was renewed and increased
some years after, on his accepting a pastoral charge in this city. Notwithstand-
ing we differed material}}^ in some respects in our tastes and constitutions, there
always existed between us the most agreeable intercourse, and I believe I may
say, a feeling of mutual confidence and attachment.
Nobody, I think, that knew Mr. Wilcox, will doubt tliat he was, in some
respects, among the most remarkable young ministers of his day; but he passed
away so early and so long since, that even now, there are comparatively few
with whom his fine qualities arc a matter of personal recollection. His whole
character, physical, intellectual, and moral, was in admirable keeping. In his
person, he was of about the ordinary stature, rather thin and delicately formed,
with a frame that seemed little capable of endurance, and a countenance expressive
of great meekness, and benignity, and intelligence withal, shaded with a slight
pensive hue, which was admirably fitted to awaken sympathy and heighten the
general effect of his appearance. His manners, though not highly cultivated
from extensive intercourse with the world, were naturally in a high degree bland
and attractive; and you could not converse with him in the most casual way,
without feeling that some gentle and genial spirit was breathing upon you. He
treated every one's feelings with the most delicate consideration, — never allow-
ing himself, by an equivocal word or look, to run the hazard of needlessly
CARLOS WILCOX. g57
inflicting a wound uiDon any human being. He was a person of strong sj^mpa
thies, but they were perhaps rather intense than expansive — he was indeed kind
to all with whom he had intercourse, but he evidently delighted more in the com-
pany of a few choice friends, than in mingling indiscriminatelj^ in general society.
Mr. Wilcox was naturally and essentially a poet. His taste was most delicate
and exact, and his imagination easily kindled, and was at home amidst all grand
and beautiful scenes, whether in nature, providence, or grace. I would not say
that he was deficient in the reasoning faculty; for he sometimes reasoned very
skilfully and effectivel}'; but that was not his predominant intellectual charac-
teristic. He may be said to have possessed an uncommonly elegant, polished,
finished mind, joined to a temperament and spirit of the most delicate and
unearthly cast.
Of what my friend was as a preacher, you ma}^ form some idea from what I
have said of his intellectual and moral constitution. He had a voice of very con-
siderable compass, and he modulated it with uncommon effect. It was suscepti-
ble of one note on the minor key that was well nigh irresistible; and I think it
was this, in connection with his singularly gentle and meek appearance, that
constituted the chief power and charm of his manner. His sermons were very
elaborately and carefully composed, and were replete with beauty of thought and
expression. They were full of evangelical truth, and contained man}- serious
and earnest appeals to the heart and conscience; but I am not certain that their
etfectiveness was not diminished bj^ an excess of tasteful decoration, and that the
mind of the hearer was not sometimes too much occupied with admiration of the
draper}', to feel the full power of the truth around which it was thrown. There
is, however, a class of minds to which such preaching as his would be especially
adapted; and, indeed, we can hardly imagine that there is any class, whether of
high or low degree, to which it would not be at once acceptable and useful.
Mr. Wilcox's standard of sermonizing was far beyond his own reacli, or I may
add, that of anybody else. His organ of ideality, speaking phrenologically, was
immense; and his ideal preacher evidently cast into the shade all the actual
preachers of whom he had ever heard or read. He wrote with the greatest effort;
every sermon was like an epic poem; and he could never write at all, unless his
mind were wrought up to a high pitch of excitement. I remember his once
coming to me Saturday night, and asking me if I would exchange with him half
of the next day, and giving as a reason that he had been trying, during the whole
week, to write a sermon, but had found it absolutel}^ impossible. On another
occasion, when he had returned to liis labours after a temporary absence on
account of ill health, we conversed somewhat at length in regard to the jsrospect
of his being able to continue in his work; and I said to him, with reference to
what seemed to me the unattainable, almost unapproachable, standard which he
had formed for himself, that I was quite confident he would sacrifice himself to
it, whether he succeeded in reaching it or not — that if he reached it, he M'ould kill
himself in the eff'ort; and if he did not reach it, he would die from the disap-
pointment.
I will only add that, in his religious character, he was devout and consistent.
In the pastoral relation, he was conciliatory and sympathetic, and endeared him-
self greatly to the people of his charge. In our community, and wherever he
was known, he was regarded as eminently lovely, gifted, and attractive.
Yours afiectionately,
J. HAWES.
Vol. TI. 83
658 TRINITAKIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
SAMUEL GREEN. =^
1818—1834.
Samuel G-REEN was the fourth son of Thomas and Anna G-reen, and vvaa
born at Stoneham, Mass., on the 3d of March, 1792. His father was a
farmer and mechanic, in moderate circumstances, and, though not a pro-
fessor of religion, was a punctual attendant on public worship, and sus-
tained, in all respects, an irreproachable moral character. His mother was
a plain, but amiable, sensible, and energetic woman, and shortly before the
birth of this son, became an uncommonly earnest and devout Christian :
and it was chiefly to her influence that he was accustomed, in subse(|ucnt
life, gratefully to refer the early moulding of his character.
His early advantages for education were only such as were afforded by a
common district school, taught from three to six months of the year. But,
from the time that he entered school, he evinced a great fondness for book;^,
and was usually in advance of most of his associates in liis juvenile studies.
As his mind developed, he was especially fond of Ainthmetlc and ether
branches of mathematics, and whatever of leisure he could find, when out
of school, or in the intervals of labour, was sure to be devoted to these and
kindred studies. In the spring of 1807, when he was a little more than
fifteen years of age, he was apprenticed to a mason and brick-layer iu South
Heading ; though his aspirations, even at that time, evidently did not fall
short of a liberal education. While Jie attended strictly to the duties
devolved upon him by his new relation, he still indulged his passion for
books, as he could find opportunity, and even went so far as to write essays
on Astronomy and other subjects, which were at the time occupying his
attention. He continued in this situation till about the close of his
eighteenth year, when he ventured to suggest to his parents the idea of
abandoning his trade, and entering on a course of study with a view to a
collegiate education. Though his father at first discouraged the project as
altogether impracticable, yet, on more mature reflection, and especially on
consulting, at his son's request, the Faculty of Phillips Academy at Ando-
ver, he was induced to yield his objections, and consent that the long cher-
ished wish of his son should be gratified. Arrangements were accordingly
made with the person to whom he had been apprenticed, and he repaired to
Andover and began the study of Latin in February, 1810.
He remained at Andover, a diligent and successful student, for about two
years and a half. In August, 1812, he became a member of Harvard Col-
lege, where he enjoyed the full advantage of the charitable provisions which
exist there for indigent young men. As a scholar, he stood nearly at the
head of his class, being more especially distinguished in mathematics and
metaphysics. During his Freshman, Sophomore, and Junior years, he
taught schools, two or three months each winter, to good acceptance, at Cam-
bridge and Stoneham. In June, 1813, he was seized with the measles, and
returned to his father's house, to enjoy, during his illness, the alleviations
and comforts of home. His mother watched over him with the tenderest
* Storrs' Memoir.
SAMUEL GREEN. 659
solicitude, but she took the disease from iiim and fell a victim to it. His
reflections on the occasion of her death were most pertinent and affecting.
As soon as his health was sufficiently I'cstored, he returned to College,
where he remained prosecuting his studies with unremitting assiduity till
July, 1815, when his constitution, naturally athletic and capable of great
endurance, yielded to long conuuued sedentary habits and unintermitted
mental effort. A severe fever ensued, which entirely prostrated his bodily
strength, and for a time deprived him of the use of his reason. From this
attack he gradually but slowly recovered, so far as to be able to ride and
v.alk, but not to resume his studies at College. He, however, received the
degree of Bachelor of Arts in August, 1817, — a year subsequent to the
graduation of his class.
In November, 1816, having devoted the greater part of the previous year
to relaxation and exercise, in the hope of regaining his health, he entered
the The. logical Seminary at Ando.ver ; though he was still so feeble as to
be inadequate to any very continuous or intense mental eff"ort. Notwith-
standing his hope of having experienced a spiritual renovation dated back
to the time of his connection with Phillips Academy, he had, owing proba-
bly to a want of confidence in his own exercises, deferred luaking a public
profession of his faith until after he joined the Theological Seminary. He
performed this solemn act on the 2d of March, 1817, in connection with
which, he exhibited to the church at Andover of which he became a mem-
ber, a document, containing an impressive and somewhat minute account of
his religious experience.
After spending a year at the Theological Seminary, he became satisfied
that his health required that he should at least partially suspend his theo-
logical studies, and he accepted a pressing invitation to a Tutorship in Bow-
doin College, Brunswick. He entered on the duties of this office in the
autumn of 1817, and continued in them till the close of the summer of
1819; meanwhile, prosecuting his theological studies, as his health would
permit, under the direction of President Appleton. He sustained the office
of Tutor with great dignity, efficiency, and acceptance.
While at Brunswick, in 1818, he was licensed to preach the Gospel ; and
he entered on the services of the sanctuary with equal humility and delight.
He was strongly solicited to settle in the ministry at Topsham, a town in
the neighbourhood of Brunswick; but he declined, partly at least on the
ground that he felt it to be his duty to return to Andover, and avail himself
of the advantages of the Seminary a few months longer, before taking a
pastoral charge. After his return to Andover, — in the latter part of 1819,
and the early part of 1820, he preached for some time at Topsfield, Mass.,
and made a most favourable impression ; but, on account of his feeble
health, declined to be considered a candidate for settlement.
On the 29th of May, 1820, he was called to the charge of the South
church and parish in Heading, Mass. On the 22d of July following, he
returned an affirmative answer, and on the 20th of September, was ordained.
Previous to his settlement, the church had been in a divided state ; but his
prudent and conciliatory spirit quickly availed to heal the existing divisions ;
and shortly after this, commenced a revival of religion, which continued
with great power almost to the time of his resigning his pastoral charge.
In October, 1821, he became connected in marriage with Louisa, daugh-
6(30 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ter of Samuel Ropes, Esq., of Salem, Mass. They had three children, —
a son and two daughters.
lu 1822, the Essex Street church, Boston, became involved in difficulties^
from which there seemed to be no other way of escape than by a division
of the original church, and a new organization of a respectable minority as
a distinct church, and the settlement of a pastor whose talents, prudence,
and piety should be such as to qualify hiui for a somewhat difficult station.
This course was accordingly resolved upon, and Mr. Glreen was the man
selected to fill the place. His people objected strongly to his removal ;
but, after consulting a number of persons whom he thought best qualified
to form an impartial judgment in the case, he decided that it was his duty
to accept the call. Accordingly, he did accept it, and was installed over the
church and congregation in Essex street, March 26, 1823.
Mr. Green, on entering upon his new charge, found himself in a field
which required unceasing effort ; and happily, his health, for several years,
was such that he was able to labour without much interruption. In the
summer of 1829, however, his general health, and particularly his voice,
was so much affected, that he was obliged temporarily to suspend his labours ;
but, after passing some time in the family of his friend, S. V. S. Wilder,
Esq., of Bolton, Mass., where he had the advantage of pure air, as well as
the most hospitable attentions, he was able to return to his accustomed
duties.
Early in the year 18.31, his health again suddenly failed, and so entirely
as to oblige him to desist from all pastoral labours, and to resort to the
most efficient means for recovery. After making a short visit at North-
ampton and Hartford, he returned to Boston without an}'- perceptible
improvement of his health. It was now determined, as the result of the
best medical advice, and with the consent of his congregation, that he
should try the effect of a European tour ; and, having taken an affectionate
leave of his people, he embarked at New York, on the 20th of May, in the
ship Great Britain, for Liverpool, where he arrived on the 24th of June.
After spending a short time in Great Britain, he proceeded to the Conti-
nent, visiting France and Italy, thence passing on to Sicily, and thence to
Malta, where, after a sojourn of about two months, he embarked, on the
29th of April, 1832, for Gibraltar. On arriving at this latter place, he
found the ship Empress just ready to sail for New York, and he took pas-
sage in her, and was safely landed on the 20th of June. His tour was in
many respects one of great interest; but it was a sad disappointment both
to himself and to his people that his health had not materially improved by
it. He met them on the first Sabbath after he reached Boston, but could
onlv address to them a few touching remarks relative to his and their pecu-
liar circumstances. A few weeks subsequent to this, he made another effort
to speak to them on the subject of observing a day of fasting and prayer in
view of tlie threatened judgment of the cholera.
In July, he made a journey to New Milford, Conn., in order to avail him-
self of the advice of an eminent physician thei'e ; but the experiment pi-oved
unsuccessful. He returned to Boston about the beginning of October, and
soon retired to Dorchester, where, for a short time, he seemed to be improv-
ing ; though the favourable change proved to be but temporary. On the
2d of November, he left Boston for New York, accompanied by his wife
and one of his children, to make one more trial of what he considered the
SAMUEL GREEN. 661
best medical skill. Here he remained, with the exception of a few weeks
in which he took a journey on horseback into New Jersey and Pennsj'lva-
nia, for about six months. He returned to Boston towards the close of
May, 1833, with his unfavourable symptoms somewhat mitigated, but by no
means removed. Early in July, having become satisfied that there was
little prospect of his being able to resume his labours, and feeling that the
interests of his church would suffer from so protracted an interruption of a
stated ministry, he addressed to them a communication tendering the resig-
nation of his pastoral charge. They accepted it with great reluctance, and
passed resolutions expressive of the warmest attachment, one of which was
to present to him a thousand dollars, whenever his connection with the
church should cease. That, however, did not formally take place until the
following March, when the llev. Nehemiah Adams was installed as his suc-
cessor.
In August, he removed to Lancaster, Mass., with his family, where he
took board for a few months, in the hope of deriving benefit from retire-
ment and from the pure air of the country. In November, he transferred
his residence from Lancaster to Braintree ; and though he continued in a
feeble state, he was able to move about, and to meet occasional demands for
pastoral service. In Junfe, 1884, he made another visit to New York,
which he says was "one of much interest, that is, compared with any thing
I have enjoyed of the kind for these three years of disease and infirmity."
For a week previous to his last illness, his spirits were unusually good, and
he had begun to indulge the confident expectation of being able, at no dis-
tant period, to resume his labours. On Sabbath P. M., October 19, he
attended worship at Essex Street church ; and his friends were struck with
his unusually healthful countenance ; but, before the close of the exercises,
he was seized with a pain in his side and a chill, which proved the harbinger
of a pleurisy or lung-fever, which no medical applications were sufficient to
control. It very soon became apparent to himself as well as his friends
that he was rapidly nearing the dark boundary ; and the few days that
remained to him, though days of great bodily suff'ering, were marked by a
calm, humble, and triumphant confidence in his Redeemer. What added
greatly to the severity of the affliction was that his wife, in the midst of his
sufferings, was stricken down by a severe illness; and it seemed, for a time,
as if, perhaps, they might traverse the dark valley together. But it pleased
a merciful Providence to spare her, and to enable her to be at his bedside
again before his departure. The parting scene was one of most sublime
tenderness and serene triumph. It was the 6th of November when he
entered into the joy of his Lord. His funeral sermon was preached by his
successor, the Rev. (now Dr.) Nehemiah Adams.
FROM THE REV. RICHARD S. STORRS, D. D.
Braintree, April 18, 1850.
My dear Sir: It was not till Mr. Green's settlement in Boston, that I had
opportunity to know him intimately; nor even then was my intercourse with him
as frequent and familiar, as that enjoyed by many other ministerial brethren.
Still, such were his fraternal sympathies, largeness of heart, and habitual amiable-
ness, that it required neither much time nor close proximity, to know him well.
Providence, too, often brought us together in committees, conventions, councUs,
662 trijS'itarian congregational.
public assL'niblings, and more retired scenes of ordinary ministerial labour, where
the pi-ominent traits of his character were variously and fairly developed.
In person, he was rather above than below the middle height, erect, of fine
proportion and noble mien. His countenance was open, animated, and highly
expressive of the shining qualities of his mind and heart. His movements, wliile
easy, were firm, indicative of strong purpose and its sure accomplishment.
His manners were those of the true Christian gentleman, — unaffected and
respectful, graceful and refined, making both the friend and tlie stranger at once
at home with him, attracting the love of the cliild, commanding the reverence of
the 3'outh, constraining the respect of age, inviting the confidence of the timid,
checking the impertinence of the forward, and inspiring with admiration his supe-
riors in wealth and standing.
That he had superior intellectual strength and cultivation might readil\' be
inferred fi'om the fact, that he secured the high respect and entire confidence of
two intelligent congregations that came successively under his charge, and also
that he was called to abundant occasional labours in other churches; but, infer-
ence aside, he was known to possess a clear and well furnished mind, that in no
exigency disappointed expectation. He was a diligent student, an earnest thinker,
and just reasoner, though he certainly could not be classed among the most origi-
nal and profound scholars of his generation. The truth is, he had loftier concep-
tions than are common, of the sacreduess of his office as the " ambassador of God."
He was too much engaged for the salvation of men from sin and death, to permit
him to read as* extensively and speculate as freely as many are Vv'ont to do, on
other than strictly theological subjects. His rulhig passion, equall}^ strong in
life and death, Avas to transform sinful man into the image of God, and fit him for
Heaven. Of himself he thought little — Christ was his " all in all." Though he
despised not literary attainments, nor shunned metaphysical discussions, nor
discarded the claims of science, he yet habitually and conscientiously subordi-
nated every thing to the Kingdom of Christ in the heart and throughout the world.
For this he was ever ready to spend and be spent, even when the exclamation
was forced from his lips — " Lord! who hath believed our report ?"
The meekness and gentleness of Christ, pre-eminentl}^ characterized his spirit.
If, among the " brethren" with whom he sympathized and laboured side by .side,
one resembled Paul, another Peter, a third James or Jude, none could question
that in him, "the disciple whom Jesus loved" had a living representative; f(jr
while surpassingly bold and earnest in defence of what he believed to be " the
Faith once delivered to the saints," and ready to make any sacrifice for main-
taining it, he 3'ct aff"ectionatel3r leaned on Jesus' bosom, — tcnderlj^ loved all in
whom he recognized the Saviour's image, and regarded, not with hostility, but
with anxious concern, those whom he considered as holding dangerous errors.
In the pulpit he was a strong man, but in the closet stronger. His sermons
were uniformly rich in thought, clear in method, and forcible in delivery; yet
they revealed too much of the simplicity there is in Christ, and were too little
invested with logical forms, splendid metaphors, and rhetorical flourishes, to
satisfy the itching ear. His manner, invariably solemn, tender, and earnest,
became the man of,
" Theme divine,
" His oflSce sacred, his credentials clear."
Few men have more largely possessed, or successfully exerted, the power
of stirring the fountains of pious emotion in the Christian bosom to their lowest
depths, or of convincing " ungodly men of the ungodly deeds they have ungodly
committed." His intimate acquaintance with the heart prepared him to dissect
and lay it open to the inspection of every man; and his clear knowledge of the
mind of God fitted him to bind up the heart, when broken, and apply the healing
balm.
SAMUEL GREEN. QQg
1 have alluded to his prayerfulness; and on this point it would be pleasure to
dwell more at length, but for the delicacy of a subject lying so exclusively between
God and the individual soul. That he was eminently a man of prayer, none
who knew him could doubt — the fact was revealed by his every feature and
movement, at home or abroad, in the social meeting or the ordinary intercourse
of life. A single incident illustrates this. Called, on one occasion, (as he often
was,) to assist in the organization of a new church in a village some twenty
miles from Boston, he started in the morning in a close carriage, with a brother
minister and two delegates, while yet the roads were "' unoccupied" by the mul-
titudes on their way to the citj^ and immediately proposed that the three or four
liours of the ride be spent in prayer and devotional conversation. Accordingl3-,
each of the four brethren in succession offered audible prayer, intermingling the
exercise with words that ministered to godly edifying, thus increasing their own
spirituality, and securing the blessing of God on the solemn transactions of the
day. Correspondent with tliis was the whole frame work of his spirit and ordi-
nary deportment.
It would give me i:)leasure, were it not for the fear of making this communica-
tion too long, to indulge here to reminiscences of his earnest care for the lambs
of the flock, and his devotedness to the religious and educational interests of the
whole rising generation; also, of his abundant pastoral visits and watchful soli-
citude for the holy walk and conversation of his brethren in Christ; also, of his
anxieties and labours to recover wanderers from the fold, to heal the sick and the
wounded, and to bind up the torn and bleeding, whether of his own or the charge
of others; also, of his constancy and zeal in upholding social meetings for prayer
and conference by his presence and personal efforts; also, of his readiness to ren-
der all service in his power to his ministerial brethren, for and near, when he
knew them to be oppressed bj^ the greatness of their labours; also, of his wisdom
in counsel and energy in action, on all occasions requiring penetration and moral
courage; more than all, of the strong faith that kept his soul in continued peace,
his countenance ever lighted with a smile, and his heart ever expanded with
Love to Christ, to the Church, and to a world lying in wickedness. If not
superior to many others in native strength of understanding, or in the extent
of his researches into the deep things of the God of nature and revelation, or in
. the heights and depths of his philosophy, he was inferior to few, and fell not a
whit short of any, in the depth of his piety, the fervours of his devotion, or the
entireness of his consecration to " Chi'ist and the Church."
With great respect and affection.
Yours in the Lord,
R. S. STORRS.
664 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ARTEMAS BOIES.^^
1818—1844.
Artemas Boies was the seventh son of David and Dorotha Boies, and
was born at Blandford, Mass., on the 8th of September, 1792. His father
was an industrious New Enghxnd farmer, and both his parents were persons
of great moral and Christian worth, and highly respected by all whi! knew
them. He early manifested a preference for study ; and his frail constitu-
tion rendering him unfit for the heavy work of the farm, it was decided that
he should have the benefit of a collegiate education. For two or three
winters, he taught a common school. He fitted for College, partly under
the instruction of the Rev. Dr. Cooley of Granville, and partly at the
Westfield Academy. He entered Williams College, one year in advance,
and graduated in 181G. After leaving College, he passed several months
in teaching a select school at Longmeadow, Mass.; and in 1817 became
a member of the Theological Seminary at Princeton. He was licensed
to preach by the Presbytery of Albany, in October, 1818. Early in 1819,
his health became so much impaired that he was obliged prematurely to
close his theological course ; and, by the advice of his friends and physician,
he started on horseback for the South, in pursuit of health, — almost, however,
despairing of ever again realizing it, and apprehending a speedy decline.
The effect of his journey and of a change of climate was greatly to invigo-
rate his system, insomuch that, at no distant period, he was able to enter
upon the duties of the ministry. He was dismissed from the Presbytery
of Albany to join the Presbytery of Fayetteville in February, 1819. After
preaching, for some time, with great acceptance to the Presbyterian church
in Wilmington, N. C, he received a call to become their pastor ; and though
his partiality was for a Northern residence, yet, as the climate had proved
so favouralile to his health, and other circumstances seemed promising in
regard to both comfort and usefulness, he thought it his duty to accept the
call, and was, accordingly, in due time, ordained and installed pastor of the
ehurch.
After he had been at Wilmington about a year, the church edifice belong-
ing to his congregation was destroyed by fire, in consequence of which, not
long after, he went by request into South Carolina to endeavour to o1)tain
funds to assist in repairing the loss which tlie congregation had sustained.
While in Charleston, he preached to the church which some yeirs after-
vrards enjoyed the ministry of Dr. Henry, — and with so much acceptance
that, soon after, they invited him to become their pastor. Though he was
not a little embarrassed by this call, especially in consideration of the
afflicted state of his congregation at Wilmington, he made up his mind, after
mature reflection, that the indications of Providence were ifi favour of his
accepting it. He accordingly did accept it, and removed to Charleston in
the year 1821.
In the winter of 1822-23, Mr. Boies had the pleasure of witnessing an
extensive revival of religion in connection with his labours, which resulted
in the addition of a large number to his church. But the anxiety and
* MSS. from hia family.
ARTEMAS BOIS. 665
increased amount of effort to which he was thereby subjected, brought ou
great physical debility and prostration, and the result was that, in the sum-
mer of 18:^0, he resigned his pastoral charge and returned to New England.
His ministry in Charleston is understood to have been characterized by
great fidelity, earnestness, and tenderness ; and he left behind him not a
few, who referred to it as the instrumentality by which they had hopefully
been born into the Kingdom.
Early in 1824, his health having become somewhat recruited by relaxa-
tion and rest, Mr. Boies accepted a call from the church and society, in
South Hadley, Mass., and was installed there in February, — the sermon on
the occasion being preached by the Rev. Dr. Osgood of Springfield.
In the winter of 1829-30, he made a visit to Charleston, S. C, his
former field of labour, in connection with an agency under the American
Bible Society for supplying every family in the States of South Carolina
and Georgia with the Bible. The visit was one of great interest, and was
accompanied with many demonstrations of kind remembrance on the part of
his old friends.
Mr. Boies continued to labour diligently and successfully in South Hadley
for six years. At the end of this period, — in the autumn of 1834, he
received a call to settle as pastor of the Pine Street church, Boston, which,
in view of all the circumstances, he thought it his duty to accept ; though
he was bound to his people at South Hadley by a strong tie, which it cost
him a severe pang to sever. He was installed in November, — the installa-
tion sermon being preached by the Rev. Thomas T. "Waterman, then of
Providence.
Mr. Boies remained in connection with the Pine Street church until
October, 1840, when, in consequence chiefly of the pecuniary embarrass-
ments of the church, he resigned his charge. In March, 1841, he was
installed pastor of the Second Congregational church in New London, — the
installation sermon being preached by the Rev. Dr. Nehemiah Adams of
Boston. Here he found a place eminently suited to his tastes, and every
thing to induce the wish that it might prove, as it actually proved, his. last
settlement. His people were devotedly attached to him, and his labours,
from time to time, were attended with a manifest blessing.
About the beginning of September, 1844, he was attacked with the
typhoid fever, which, however, in its early stage, did not assume a specially
threatning aspect. After it became probable that it might have a fatal
issue, and the patient himself became impressed with this idea, his spirit was
not only peaceful but triumphant, — a circumstance the more noticeable from
the fact that he had been all his life time in bondage to the fear of dying.
He died on the morning of the 25th of September, a little less than three
weeks after he had passed his fifty-second birth day.
Mr. Boies was married in the autumn of 1821 to Abigail, daughter of
Ethan Ely, Esq., of Longmeadow, Mass. She died at South Hadley,
greatly lamented, in April, 182G, leaving two children, one of whom William
Ely, has since graduated at Yale College and is a licensed preacher. He
was married again in September, 1827, to Susan Lamson of Keene, N. H., —
a lady who was admirably adapted to his peculiar temperament, and proved
an efficient helper to him in his work. By this marriage he had five
children.
Vol. II. 84
(3(3(3 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Among nil my friends who have departed, there are few whoso memories
I cherish with warmer aiFection or more unmingled pleasure than that of
Mr. Boies. We met first at the Theological Seminary at Princeton, where
we were class-mates during the time that we both remained there ; after-
wards we were for several years in the same neighbourhood as pastors ot
the Connecticut river ; and when we were thrown farther apart by a
change of residence, our intimacy was still maintained by correspondenci;
and occasional visits. About a year before his death, I spent several days
with him at his home in New London, in the most delightful intercourse,
and, at the close of my visit, parted with him for the last time.
In person, Mr. Boies was somewhat below the medium height, but well
proportioned. His countenance, when in a state of repose, was of rather
a sombre cast ; but it took but little to clothe it with the most genial
smile. I never knew a person of more imperturbable good nature ; and
withal he had a vein of keen but delicate wit, that rendered him specially
attractive in the social circle. Indeed, when he was in a certain state of
mind, his very look was irresistible; he would make me laugh without
opening his lips. His spirit was eminently affectionate and confiding, and
as guileless as that of an infant, while yet he was by no means lacking
in discernment of character. His mind moved easily and gracefully ;
and his taste, as I remember to have heard Dr. Alexander once say, in
criticising one of his exercises in the Seminary, was exquisite. His sermons,
whenever I heard him preach, were well wrought, strongly evangelical, and
deeply serious, and his manner much more than ordinarily fervent and
impressive. His discourses on the Sabbath were generally written ; but he
extemporized with great readiness and propriety. I recollect being struck
with the remarkable appropriateness and grace of the Right Hand of
Fellowship which he delivered to the llev. Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Spencer of
Northampton, and to have been surprised to learn afterwards that not a word
of it was written.
Mr. Boies' Christian character was eminently consistent and beautiful ;
and the more so, as the graces of the Spirit were combined with so much of
natural loveliness. It was impossible to be with him long, without gaining
the evidence that his affections had a constant tendency upward. There
were seasons, however, when he was oppressed with the most painful doubts
in respect to his spiritual condition, and one instance, which I well remem-
ber, iu which his agony became so intense, as to awaken the fear that it
might issue in absolute derangement ; though there was reason to believe
that the mental malady was occasioned by a disordered state of his physical
system. He was, I think, constitutionally inclined to be meditative rather
than active ; but this tendency, so far as it was excessive, was counteracted,
to a great extent, by his conscientiousness and his benevolence. In the
discharge of his various duties, there was fidelity mingled with prudence and
tenderness. He passed througli life, multiplying friends, and I may safely
say, not leaving behind an enemy.
Mr. Boies published a Thanksgiving Sermon at South Hadley, entitled
•'Characteristics of the times," 1828, and an Address before the Society of
Inquiry in Amherst College, 1834.
ARTEMAS BOIES. 667
FROM THE REV. JOSEPH HURLBUT.
jS'ew London, Conn., July 9, 1856.
Rev. and dear Sir: It affords me a melancholy pleasure to comply with your
request to furnish you some reminiscences of our esteemed and lamented friend,
the Rev. A. Boies. Though the period of my acquaintance with him was far
more limited than your own, yet while he was pastor of the church in New
London my intercourse with him was most intimate and confidential. He was
then in the maturity of his powers and ripeness of his Christian character,
immediately preceding his translation to that higher sphere, where, in the
clear light of his Heavenly Father's countenance, he now enjoys that holy com-
munion, unalloyed by sin, for which he so often longed.
The spontaneous expression of my heart, in speaking of Mr. Boies, is, — "He
was a good man, full of faith and of the Holy Ghost." His foundation was
laid upon the Rock of Ages — Christ, the Saviour of lost sinners, was all in all
to him, and his atonement and intercession the sole ground, not only of his hope
of Heaven, but of his hope in the ministry. The Bible, the whole Bible was
the only rule of his faith and practice. All he had to ascertain was, " what
saith tlie Scriptures," and he never stopped to cavil, but went forward in the
path of duty, with unshaken confidence in the result. He used to say that the
word of God, to him, was manna in this wilderness, and he needed it fresh
every day, with a double portion for the Sabbath. This enabled him to break
the bread of life to others, and give to the saints, and even to babes, the food
of Angels. Here was his power in the pulpit, — and rarely have I heard more
simple and beautiful illustrations of Divine truth poured forth from a kind
heart, glowing with love to God and his fellow-men. He was naturally elo-
quent— with a pleasant voice, a benevolent countenance, and graceful, fervent
manner, he rarely failed to make good and lasting impressions. This is abun-
dantly testified by the result of his labours in New London. During his
pastorate of three years and six months, we were blessed with two periods of
revival, or, I might rather say, with a constant refreshing from the presence of
the Holy Spirit. One hundred and three members were received by him into
the church, — most of them b}^ profession of their faith, and many of them in the
morning of life. Truly, the savour of his name is fragrant in all our families,
and to mine doubly so, as my beloved son, whom he then received into the
church at the age of fifteen, is now united with him in the mansions of the
blessed. His manner in prayer was most impressive, the tones of his voice
tender and fervent, his spirit humble and confiding, while he poured out his
petitions Avith a pathos which carried his audience «ith himself into the very
presence of Deitj'. He was a man of deep humility, and had a low estimate of
his own services. In one of his pastoral charges before coming to this place, I
have been informed that, at a period of much excitement, he was personally
arraigned and censured by an officer of his church in a public meeting, very
unjustl}'. But, instead of resenting it, he rose, with his face beaming with
n^ldness, and while the tears rolled down his cheeks, he thanked the brother
for his fidelity, and expressed the hope that he might profit by it. In less than
a year that brother was laid upon a dj-ing bed; and there, in broken accents,
asked the forgiveness of his beloved pastor, and told him that his heavenly
spirit had not only disarmed his prejudices, but been greatly blessed to his soul.
The theological views of our friend, you know, were rather of a "strong
cast," and he was conservative in his character. When he was first settled
here, he was under the impression, (an impression which others shared with
him,) that there was not as strict conformity to the views of Edwards,
Bellamy, and men of that school, in this vicinit}', as formerly. And after he
ggg TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
had been here some time, he received a letter from an excellent and influential
brother, rather censuring him for his want of zeal in the cause of true ortho-
doxy. This letter, with his reply, he read to me; and it was truly characteris-
tic of his honesty and ingenuousness. He assured his friends that the impres-
sions which they had entertained of ministers in this vicinity were entirely
unfounded, — that they were as orthodox as themselves, and worthy of all con-
fidence and affection.
Another incident wiU illustrate the breadth and benevolence of his Christian
character, and his hearty sympathy w^ith human suffering. He was at first
afraid that the Washington movement in temperance would be productive
of disastrous results; and it must be confessed that it proved so in some
instances. But returning with him one evening from a prayer-meeting, as we
passed the Temperance hall, I urged Mm to go in. He complied with reluc-
tance. But, as he came in, a man advanced in years was relating with deep
feeling his sufferings, and those of his poor family, while he had been the victim
of intemperance, and then appealed to Christians and those who had power with
God to plead with Him for his restraining and sanctifying grace; — for nothing
else could save him. I saw the tears glistening in the eyes of the dear man of
God, as he listened to the thrilling appeal of his suffering fellow man. He rose
and responded to it in the true spirit of his Master, and from that time forward
did all in his power to give the movement a right direction, and make it subser-
vient to the cause of Christ.
Mr. Boies was a man of refinement and sensibility, and had an eye apprecia-
tive of the beautiful in nature and art. His love of music, especially sacred,
was highly cultivated, and he enjoyed it much in the family and the " great
congregation." Need I say that he was a most affectionate and considerate
husband, father, and friend.
As I have said before, he was removed to a higher sphere in the maturity and
vigour of all his powers. His mind was clear to the last, — his faith unshaken,
his resignation entire, his peace like a river. The parting scene with his dear
family and friends was most affecting and instructive. Every mark of respect
and affection was manifested, not only by his own church and congregation, but
the whole community. A very suitable obelisk has been erected by his church
over his remains, with a concise epitaph, which happily expresses his ministe-
rial character, — " Speaking the truth in love."
With sentiments of regard, I am
Yours very truly,
J. HURLBUT.
I
LOUIS DTTIGHT. 669
LOUIS DWIGHT.^
1819—1854.
Louis Dwight was the youngest son of Henry W. and Abigail (Wells)
Dwight, and was born at Stockbridge, Mass., March 25, 1793. In conse-
quence of the death of his father in 1804, his domestic education, after he
was eleven years of age, devolved entirely upon his mother, whose fine
intellectual and moral qualities, as well as consistent and elevated piety,
eminently qualified her to give direction to the minds of her children. In
March, 1806, he went to Bethlem, Conn., to prosecute his studies prepara-
tory to College under the Rev. Dr. Backus, and in July following, his
mother records, concerning him, with a heart overflowing with gratitude,
the delightful fact that she had " a child born into the family of Grod." His
subsequent life justified the record which she then made ; for, as his charac-
ter became more mature, his Christian graces became constantly brighter
and more unquestionable.
He entered Yale College in 1809, and graduated in 1813, having main-
tained an excellent reputation, both as a scholar and a Christian, during his
whole course. In his Senior year, he sufi'ered a severe hemorrhage of the
lungs, inconsequence of inhaling the " exhilarating gas," while attending
a lecture on Chemistry, — an event that seemed to cloud his prospects of
usefulness, and brought deep sadness to the heart of his mother. In Novem-
ber succeeding his graduation, he made a tour to the South for the benefit
of his health, and returned the next May, (1814,) much invigorated and
improved, but still doubtful whether he should be able to engage in profes-
sional life. He, however, determined to pursue the study of Theology, and,
with a view to this, became a member of the Theological Seminary at
Andover.
In 1819, while he was yet connected with the Seminary, — having become
convinced that the weakness of his lungs disqualified him for that degree of
public speaking which would be required of him as a settled minister, he
determined to accept an agency of the American Tract Society. In this
cause he laboured with great fidelity, often overtasking his strength,
until the spring of 1823, when he received an urgent request from the
Directors of the American Education Society that he would become their
agent, — which was pressed on the gireund that the proposed change, while
it would meet an important exigency, would introduce him into a yet wider
field of usefulness. The arguments by which the application was urged
proved availing, and Mr. Dwight, shortly after, accepted the appointment,
and brought to the Education Society the same zeal and energy which had
marked his course in connection with the Tract Society.
On the 20th of May, 1824, Mr. Dwight was married to Louisa H.,
daughter of Nathaniel Willis, who was then editor and proprietor of the
Boston Recorder. About this time, in addition to his other duties, he
became an assistant to his father-in-law in his editorial labours ; but, after
the trial of a few months, it was found that he could not sustain this addi-
tional tax upon his strength, in consequence of which, his connectiou
•Memoir by the Rev. Dr. Jenks.
670
TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL .
with the paper ceased. Before the close of July, he had another attack of
hemorrhage, which disabled him for all exertion, and led him to try the effect
of a journey on horseback to his native place. The result was decidedly
favourable, and, on his return to Boston, he was greatly encouraged iu
respect to his prospects of life and usefulness.
But scarcely had he returned to his accustomed labours, before he had
evidence, which he could not resist, that it was unsafe for him to contluuu
in them. Accordingly, about tlie close of October, he again took leave of
his friends in Boston, and commenced a long journey on horseback, not merely
for the benefit of his health, but with a special view to carry Bibles to those
who were destitute of them iu prisons. In order to facilitate the object, it
was thought desirable that he should obtain the sanction and co-operation
of the American Bible Society, and should procure through thorn, if possi-
ble, a large number of Bibles for distribution among the prisoners whom hu
might visit. The subject was accordingly presented to the Managers of the
Society at a meeting in New York, and met their cordial approbation : and
a resolution was unanimously passed, authorizing Mr. D wight to obtain any
quantity of Bibles from the Depository of the National Society, tliat he
might deem necessary.
Having stopped long enough in New York to satisfy hiniself in regard to
the general condition of the prisons in that city, he proceeded to Philadel-
phia, thence to Baltimore, Washington, and as far South as Carolina, ful-
filling his benevolent mission in visiting all the jails and State prisons that
lay upon his route. After an absence of more than six months, during
which time he had ridden on horseback more than a thousand miles, he
returned to Boston in May, 1825, with his health apparently restored, and
had the happiness to find an infant daughter who had been born to him some
time after he left home.
The attention of many benevolent individuals in and about Boston had
previously, for some time, been directed to this form of public charity ; and
as early as 1819, not only were religious visits made to the inmates of the
old jail in Boston, but a religious service was established and kept up there
for some time. This was a fitting preparation for the appalling communica-
tion of facts made by Mr. Dwight on his return ; and the result was, that
a distinct Society, devoted to this object, was, soon after, formed, and Mr.
D. was appointed its agent. The First Annual Report of the Society
appeared in 1826.
From this time till the close of life, the subject of Prison Discipline and
Reform was the one great subject on which Mr. Dwight's energies were
concentrated. It is scarcely possible to imagine that Howard. himself could
have laboured with more singleness of purpose, or more intensity of effort,
or more indomitable perseverance, than he evinced, from the time that he
entered this dark and difficult field, till he was called to his rest and his
reward. In 1840, as Secretary of the Prison Discipline Society, he visited
Europe, to inspect several of the principal prisons both in Great Britain and
on the Continent. The visit was one of great interest to him, and of great
importance to the cause in behalf of which it was made ; and its resulta
were given to the public in the Report for the succeeding year. Indeed
the whole series of these Reports are, to a great extent, a record of the
life and labours of Mr. Dwight during a period of thirty years. They not
only contain a vast amount of valuable information, which is nowhere else
LOUIS DWIGHT. gyj
to be found, and mark the progress of the cause of Prison Discipline from
its very commencement in this country, but they contain an indirect testi-
mony in respect to himself, which must always give him a place among the
benefactors of the ago.
On the 13th of June, 1853, as ho was returning from the Court, where
he had been attending to the case of a poor drunkard, he was attacked with
paralysis, from which, however, he so far roeovered in a few weeks as to be
able to attend to his ordinary duties. But from this time, it was manifest
that his physical energies were not what they had been before. In the
spring of 1854, though he was unable to use his own hand for writing, he
dictated to his daughter the Twenty-ninth Annual Report of the Society,
with which he had been so long and so usefully connected. On the 29th of
Play, ho attended the Society's annual meeting, and took his accustomed
part in reading extracts from the Report ; though his feeble tones left an
impression upon the minds of all, that that was the last anniversary at which
he would be present. On the last Sabbath in May and the first in June, he
was prevailed upon by the earnest entreaties of his friends, to intermit, at
least fur that day, his duties at South Boston, where, for many years, he
had preached the Grospel to the insane poor. But, on the second Sabbath
in June, he actually preached to the inmates of the Asylum, as usual, and
on his return, thought himself benefitted, rather than injured, by the
exertion. His presence was most gratefully welcomed by the afflicted
beings who constituted his audience ; and, at the close of the service, they
gathered around him with many warm expressions of good will and affection.
In the course of the night following this service, he was attacked with con-
gestion of the brain, which soon deprived him, in a great degree, of consci-
ousness, and terminated fatally on the evening of the 12th of July. His
remains repose in the cemetery at Mount Auburn, and upon the stone that
marks the spot, is the following inscription: — "Died July 12, 1854, Louis
Dwight, aged sixty-one. Founder, and thirty years Secretary, of the Prison
Discipline Society. A benefactor of man; a friend to the prisoner; a
raformer of prisons; a preacher of the Gospel."
FROM THE REV. A. L. STOXE.
Boston, July 19, 1856.
My dear Sir : It is now nearly eight years since I made the acquaintance of
the late Mr. Dwight, Avhen I first became the pastor of the church of which he
had been then for twenty-five years a member. I look back with unqualified
pleasure upon the long and friendly intimacy with him, which, in a relation so
tender, I w\as permitted to maintain. His foce and form are still before me,
distinct and clear out of the past. He was of about the medium height, and
strongly built: and, though at one period of his life, afliicted with ill health, he
was, during my knowledge of him, both muscular and active. As an instance
of this, that took me somewhat'by surprise, I recollect that some three or four
years ago, when a scaffolding was erected around the spire of my church for
repairs, Mr. Dwight guided me quite to the summit of the spire, with a celerity
and vigour of movement which were quite remarkable. The expression of his
face, to a stranger, Avould seem stern, there being, as its habitual aspect, a serious
and weighty earnestness in it, characteristic of the man. But to those who knew
the kindliness of his disposition and the real benignity of his spirit, the lines of
his face were all softened in keeping with tlie tone of his real feelings. His voice
Q^2 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
also, at the first hearing, confirmed the stern expression of his face, being deep,
full, and strong; but it uttered, only and always, the warmth of a truly benevo-
lent heart. The grasp of his hand, in friendly recognition, was of a singular
heartiness and cordiality, and spoke volumes for the temper of his social affec-
tions and the ardour and fidelity of his attachments.
He was a man of thorough discipline of mind, of much general reading and
information, wrote with considerable focility, perhaps even beyond what the
style of his public documents would suggest. He was fond of collecting and
arranging various statistics, and was both comprehensive and minute in this
department of his knowledge, and perfectly reliable.
As an extemporaneous speaker, in which capacity alone I had the fortune to
hear him, he was always clear and methodical, and at the same time was carried
forward with an earnestness which not unfrequently rose to great fervour and
vehemence. As a preacher to those who so long shared his Sabbath ministra-
tions, he was, as I have often been told, happy in the adaptation of the truth,
and, not unfrequently, very tender and winning. The last public service in that
capacity which he rendered, when his health was most unequal to the effort,
was especially pathetic and faithful, as though he felt he might never renew his
admonitions.
His whole soul was absorbed in the work to which he devoted so many and
the best years of his life, — the cause of the prisoner. It was not a field of labour
chosen by him as a means of livelihood. Not one of its duties was ever discharged
by him in a perfunctory manner. His heart was given, as with the ardour of a
first love and the constancy of an unchanging devotion, to this department of
philanthropic efibrt. He might almost be said to have created in this countrj''
the cause of Prison Discipline Reform. The many eminent men who have been
associated, as patrons, with him in this cause, always looked up to him as
especially raised up and designed in Providence for the work. Not for one
moment did he flag or fjxltcr in it. Up to his strength and beyond it, from first
to last, he prosecuted his benevolent mission, and had the satisfaction, before he
left the world, of seeing all the great ideas of that Reform, for which he had con-
tended, accepted and installed.
He possessed great energy of character and an indomitable persistence of
purpose, united, as I have hinted, in private and social life, with a gentleness and
aflfectionateness of spirit and manner that made him a sure abiding place in many
hearts.
I cannot avoid adding that, as a member of the Park Street church, he was
most abounding in Christian labours and fidelities; constant in his attendance
upon meetings for prayer, in which he specially delighted. He felt a lively
interest in the young, and spoke of them often, and always remembered them in
his social intercessions. The Concert of prayer for Colleges Avas an occasion of
great interest to him, and one for which he seemed to have been preparing
for the whole year. In his relation to myself, he manifested the utmost
delicacy of character, with a very high sense of honour and a true and deep
sympathy.
It is easy now to go on in these memorials of him, — easier than to stop, but
I must remember that the space you can give to such reminiscences must be
very brief.
AH of us who knew him, bless God for his useful and balmy life, for his peace-
ful Christian death, and for the preciousness and fragrance of his memory.
Yours faithfully,
A. L. STONE.
LOUIS DWIGHT. gyg
FROM N. P. WILLIS, ESQ.
Idle WILD, July 25, 1856
My dear Sir : The great pleasui-o I feel in complying ■v\ith your request is mingled
with some sense of surprise, that the tribute of my most week-day and worldly
pen can throw any light upon the eminence in the sacred profession which it is
the object of your work to illustrate. A second thought suggests, however, that
it is the common mason who builds the pedestal to the statue, and that the hal-
lowed character of the clergyman may be lifted into its best light and relief by
showing separately how he stood upon the common level as a man. Mr. Dwight
was my brother-in-law and intimate friend; and, by that nearness to his purity
and goodness, (a nearness which, I pray God, may be renewed and strength-
ened in the better world to which he has gone,) I am enabled, perhaps, to speak
more definitely than another of his unprofessional qualities.
The life of the friend of whom I speak was given, so wholly and success-
fully, to the cause of " Prison Discipline," (Prison Mercy, it should more properly
bo called, by the feeling always uppermost in his mind,) that it would seem
as if, by his devotion to it and his success, he had fulfilled but the one errand,
allotted to him bj' Providence with his constitution and temper. But I always
thought that his more prominent natural qualities were left unemployed by his
profession. The early original choice of it (by his parents and friends, for him)
was probably owing to the very legible imprint upon his countenance of his mere
qualit es of heart, — the sincerity and earnestness that, as the natural expression
of the face, seein to mark it for the pulpit. Truthfully and unmistakably as
thus much was told by his features, however, there was something in the mould
of his face, in the eye, and the occasional expression, as well as in the build and
movement of his frame, which told of stronger qualities. He was born for some
cue of those leaderships of life that require great energy and courage. Heroically
fearless, prompt, and self-sacrificing, he would have been the patriot for his
country's critical hour, the soldier for the "forlorn hope," the martyr for the
trial of principle and nerve. Championship and danger were Louis Dwight's
natural element.
You will pardon me for saying that there was a charm, for me, in my first
acquaintance Avith him, (he was then a Divinity student at the Institution near
which I Avas at school,) in the frank- and every-day joyousness of good-fellowship
that marked his manners. Never wanting in good advice, or in religious influ-
ence at its time and place, his sincere pietj^ gave no unnatural restraint to his
demeanour, no affectation to his look or tone, no reluctance to his sympathy witli
common life. His constitutional and habitual reverence of feeling was neither
expressed in a "phylactery," nor in " making broad the hem of his garment; "
but he breathed it, and wore it, and inspired it familiarly. It was in the uncon-
scious magnetism of his voice and bearing. To hear him pray was to be no less
" hold of his hand " than to ramble with him in the fields. He had not gone
into the presence of God to speak for you — he had taken you with him.
To the last day of Mr. Dwight's life, I had with him an unlimited interchange
of confidence. With his own spotless pilgrimage of duty and with my chequered
and worldl}' experience there M'ould be thought to be little sympathy; yet his
tender and familiar interest in all that concerned me, his counsel, his frank blame
or encouragement, were as ready as the grasp of his hand. We had one taste in
common, it is true. His love for a fine horse was a passion. We both rejoiced
in the power to add the strength of a fine animal to our consciousness of life and
motion. The very last Avalk we took together (if I may mention such a trifle in
connection with the memory of such a man) was to show me a pair of spurs of
a peculiar construction, which he had found at a harness-maker's in Boston. We
were both, at that time, trusting to the saddle, (under God's Providence,) as a
Vol. II. 85
674
TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
last hope of recovering from desperate illness. He drove me out to show me his
favourite horse; but the remedy (which had, repeatedly before, rescued him
apparently from the jaws of death) failed the one of us who was best prepared
to abide its issue.
Mr. D wight had great physical strength. He was built for an athlete; and
his keen eye, aquiline nose, and strong jaw, with the well-set muscular neck and
full chest, would have given him the pre-eminence of a Coeur de Lion in the times
of tourney. "With these superiorities wholly uncalled upon, however, (and,
doubtless, to a degree, weighing upon his life and health as unemployed faculties
will,) he was the more subject to that overtasking of the brain and the powers
of attention which ultimately proved fatal to him. With a horse under him, he
had a reminding consciousness of what should be a large proportion of his daily
life, vigour of sensation and ample exercise; but the demand was upon his
scope of moral management, the cultivation of statistics, the contrivance of pro-
jects of private benevolence and State charities. His strength lay in his body —
liis miud only was put in harness for the load.
My letter I fear, proves simply that I have nothing to say. In Mr. Dwight's
sacred devotion to his profession lay all the events of his life. He was too good,
too unambitiousl}'' and monotonously exemplary, to be a subject for the writer's
pen. We mourned his death with the rest of the world, for what the prisoner
had lost in his zeal and perseverance. But I mourned him with my inmost
heart, as a brother, and all who could claim him as a relative, mourned him as
a loss irreparable.
Trusting that my brief letter may serve the humble purpose which I proposed
to myself at starting, — the throwing Mr. Dwight's professional eminence into
stronger relief by suggesting what he was, more familiarly, as a man, — I remain,
my dear Sir, Yours sincerely and with the
highest respect,
N. P. WILLIS.
AUSTIN DICKINSON.
1819—1849.
FROM THE REV. PROFESSOR W. C. FOWLER.
Amherst, October 10, 1855.
Rev. and dear Sir : I very cheerfully comply with your request, that I
would furnish some notices of the life and character of the Rev. Austin
Dickinson. As I had the pleasure of a personal acquaintance with him,
and have had familiar intercourse with his family friends who reside in this
town, and as I collected some facts for an obituary notice of him, at the
time of his death, I can conveniently furnish a statement which will enable
others to form a sufficiently correct estimate of the principal passages of his
life, and the principal features of his character.
Mr. Dickinson was born in Amherst, Mass., February 15, 1791, from a
line of pious ancestors. He was the son of Mr. Azariah Dickinson, and Mrs.
Mary Dickinson, daughter of Mr. Joseph Eastman, one of the first settlers
of Amherst. In his filial gratitude, he was wont to say that he "studied
Theology under the teachings of his mother." From her he seemed to have
AUSTIN DICKINSON. g75
derived that deep sense of religious obligation, for which he was distin-
guished in every part of his life.
He entered Dartmouth College in 1809, in the twentieth year of his age.
Notwithstanding the weakness of his eyes, which, for months, made him
dependant for his lessons on his room-mate, who read aloud to him, such
was the vigour of his mind, and the retentiveness of hi« memory, that he
took his place among the best scholars of his class. For a period, he
boarded in the family of Professor Moore, who was afterwards President of
Amherst College, and thus was brought under the personal influence of
that excellent man. While in College, he was distinguished in his class as
a deep thinker and a ready writer, as possessing a penetrating intellect and
a lofty imagination.
After his graduation in 1813, he appears, for something like four years,
to have been in feeble health, in darkness and doubt with respect to his
spiritual condition, and unsettled in his plans. In that period, besides
attending at home to general reading, for the sake of doing something, he
studied Law, for a year or more, in the office of Samuel Fowler Dickinson,
Esq., in Amherst,
In 1817, he entered the family of General Mason of Georgetown, D. C,
as a teacher. Here he united himself with a church in 1818. He after-
wards studied Theology at Princeton, and also with the Rev. Dr. Perkins
of West Hartford, Conn, He was licensed to preach on the 2d of Feb-
ruary, 1819, by the North Association of Hartford county.
Afterwards, — in July, 1819, for the benefit of his health, he travelled to
the Southern and the Southwestern States, visited Colleges, Seminaries, and
Ecclesiastical bodies', and, with a truly Christian spirit, enjoyed a free
intercourse with Christians of various denominations. His health not
allowing him to settle in the ministry, he declined a call to settle in Cam-
den, S. C, though very powerful inducements were held out to him.
While in Tennessee, he entered on the enterprise of raising funds for the
endowment of a Theological Seminary with so much earnestness and prac-
tical wisdom, that, in conjunction with Mr, Harden, he obtained in a short
time, a sum amply sufficient for that purpose, and far surpassing the most
sanguine expectations of his friends. And it should be mentioned, to the
credit of General Jackson, that sagacious judge of character, that he received
liim into his family, gave him his confidence and his patronage, and fur-
iiibhed him with letters to his friends in New Orleans and elsewhere, which
were of great service to him in accomplishing the object of his mission.
On his return from the South, he stopped at Piichmond, Va., in the
family of the Kev. Dr. John H. Rice, Here he issued a prospectus for a
religious paper in that city, entitled the Family Visitor ; and in the
course of a few months, he obtained four thousand subscribers for it.
He returned to Amherst in June, 1822, when he entered upon a series
i)f labours for Amherst College, then just coming into existence. Besides
being largely concerned in raising the charity fund of fifty thousand dollars,
which has been a source of permanent prosperity to the College, besides
being especially efficient in raising the fund of thirty thousand dollars for
general purposes, he exerted as much influence as perhaps any other man
in obtaining a Charter for the College.
In 1826, he was ordained at Amherst as an evangelist. About this time,
he established in the city of New York, the National Preacher, which, under
Q<JQ TRINITAIIIAN COA^GREGATIONAL.
his editorship, had twelve thousand subscribers. While counected with this
work, he gratuitously appropriated a considerable part of the year 1827, to
the service of the American Tract Society, as editor. He was the author
of Tracts Nos. 283, 276, and 384.
In June, 1831, Mr. Dickinson visited England mainly for the recovery
of his health. In the words taken from a printed memoir of his life, pre-
pared for insertion in the "Biographical Notices" of his College class, and
from which some of the facts herein stated, were taken, "in company with
his friend and travelling companion, the Rev. Mr. Nettleton, he attended
many pastoral meetings, and preached almost every Sabbath. He carefully
informed himself respecting the educational and benevolent institutions of
Great Britain, and made many valuable acquaintances among the distin-
guished clergymen of different religious denominations."
In the autumn of 1838, owing to feeble health and the weakness of his
eyes, he relinquished the charge of the National Preacher. In the spring of
1844, he commenced his last great enterprise, namely, — that of endeavouring
to enlist the secular press in favour of the religious movements of the day,
so far at least as to publish articles prepared by himself, communicating
religious intelligence. He knew that the secular newspapers have great
influence on the public mind for good or for evil ; and he anxiously sought
to bring that influence to bear upon the promotion of truth, virtue, and
happiness. Accordingly, he persuaded a considerable number of editors of
those newspapers in the large cities to open their columns to his articles, for
simultaneous publication ; so that every week he could speak to thousands
of the readers of the leading journals, or of those other newspapers which
should copy their communications from them. For this delicate and
important service he was eminently qualified by his familiar acquaintance
with all the great schemes of benevolence, in operation, and by his style of
writing, which is direct, graphic, and impressive. He had been engaged in
this important service when he met the angel of death.
So rapid was his disease, — the bilious dysentery, that, in less than two
days, it had done its work. He died in New York on the 14th of August,
1849, in the fifty-ninth year of his age, at the house of his brother, the Rev.
Baxter Dickinson, D. D. His body was brought, on the 16th, to Amherst,
for interment, to rest by the side of kindred earth ; where a sermon was
preached by the present writer, and funeral solemnities were conducted in
the Centre church.
In person, Mr. Dickinson was tall and well proportioned, but not com-
pactly built. His countenance was, in its contour, strongly marked ; and
in its expression, there was certainly an habitual appearance of intensity, if
not of severity, though often beaming with kindness. He was of a high,
nervous temperament, was very earnest in his tone of mind, and was dig-
nified rather than graceful in his manners and conversation. He was a
solemn and impressive preacher, though he is said to have written but few
sermons. Some of his sermons were published in the National Preacher.'
He exhibited great ingenuity and sagacity in forming plans of benevolence,
and, as some might say, a full share of worldly wisdom as well as great energy
and perseverance in carrying them out. It has been said that he was suc-
cessful in every plan which he undertook. He will long be remembered as
having accomplished a great amount of good for the cause of Christ, even
though his "life was one long disease."
I
AUSTIN DICKINSON. 677
Mr. Dickinson married, April 26, 1836, Miss Laura Whittlesey Camp,
then of New York, eldest daughter of Mr. Joel Camp, of Litchfield, Conn.,
by whom he had one daughter that died in infancy.
Very truly your friend and brother,
WILLIAM C. FOWLER.
DANIEL TEMPLE *
1820—1851.
Daniel Temple was the son of Deacon Daniel and Sarah (Beard) Tem-
ple, and was born at Reading, Mass., December 23, 1789. He was the
oldest of thirteen children, of whom eleven lived to adult age. He learned
the shoe-maker's trade, and continued to work at it in his native place, till
after he had reached the age of twenty-one.
In the year 1810, during an extensive revival of religion, he became, as
he hoped, a true Christian ; and in December of the same year, united with
the Second or South Congregational church in Reading. In the course of
that winter, he read Dr. Buchanan's Christian Researches ; which probably
gave the first permanent direction of his thoughts toward the subject of
foreign missions. Early in the following summer, he commenced his pre-
paration for College at Phillips Academy, Andover. He entered Dart-
mouth College in 1813 ; and, having sustained himself well as a scholar,
and eminently so as a Christian, during his wh.ole course, he was graduated
in 1817. While a member of College, he received about forty dollars a
year from the funds of the Union Academy, N. H., and the rest of his
support he earned by teaching, in his winter vacations, both Grammar and
Singing schools.
Immediately after leaving College, Mr. Temple became connected, as a
student, with the Theological Seminary at Andover, where he continued
three years. He was licensed to preach at Billerica, by the Andover Asso-
ciation, in August, 1820. After being employed as an agent for the Ame-
rican Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, one year, in Massa-
chusetts, he was ordained at North Bridgewater, October 3, 1821, — the
Rev. R. S. Storrs of Braintree preaching the sermon.
In December of the same year, he was married to Rachel B., daughter
of Col. Timothy Dis, of Boscawen, N. H.
On the 22d of January, 1822, the preliminary arrangements having been
made, Mr. Temple sailed from Boston for Malta, carrying with him, through
the benevolence of a few individuals in Boston, the first printing press that
was taken to the East.
On the 15th of January, 1827, Mrs. Temple died, leaving four children,
the two youngest of whom survived their mother but two or three months.
The other two, — both sons, have since graduated at Amherst College, and
have devoted themselves to the ministry.
* Goodell's Fun. Serm.— MS. from Mrs. Temple.
gt^g TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
After the death of his wife, Mr. Temple returned to this country ; and
on the 4th of January, 1830, was again married at Hartford, Conn., to
Martha, daughter of Deacon Nathaniel Ely, of Longmeadow, Mass.
Immediately after this, he sailed a second time, for Malta; and in Decem-
ber, 1833, removed from Malta to Smyrna, carrying with him his whole
printing establishment. He was connected with the press during the whole
period of his connection with the mission.
Mr. Temple left Smyrna in June, 1844, in consequence of the relinquish-
ment, by the Prudential Committee, of the Greek department of their mis-
sion in Turkey, which had specially occupied his attention, during the last
ten and a half years of his missionary life. The other missionaries, who
had laboured among the Greeks, being young men, were transferred to other
departments ; but he being too far advanced in life to acquire a new and
difficult language, it was thought best by the Committee that he should
return, and seek a field of usefulness in his native land. So long and so
completely had his interests been identified with those of the mission to the
Mediterranean, that it was no ordinary trial to him to leave it. It cost
him a greater sacrifice of feeling even, than it did to leave his native land
at the commencement of his missionary life. But he cheerfully submitted
to what seemed to him to be the Divine will. He arrived in Boston with
his family on the 16th of August.
His firm constitution had become, to some extent, enfeebled, by his long
residence in a warm and enervating climate ; but the change of air, and
rest from his labours, which he enjoyed during his voyage of seventy-one
days, so invigorated his system, that he appeared, on his arrival in Boston,
to be in perfect health.
In September, he went to Cleaveland, Ohio, then the residence of a sister
of the second Mrs. Temple. During the succeeding winter, besides preach-
ing occasionally in Cleaveland, -he preached several Sabbaths in a small,
destitute village in the vicinity, which was then considered missionary
ground ; and also spent several weeks in Painesville, Ohio, where he was
instrumental in harmonizing a sadly divided church. During the spring, he
was employed as an agent of the American Board of Foreign Missions in
Cincinnati and its vicinity; and was employed in the same capacity, during
the summer and autumn, among the churches in New England and the State
of New York.
Near the close of the autumn of 1845, he went to Concord, N. H., where
he supplied the place of the Rev. D. J. Noyes, whose failing health required
the suspension of his pastoral labours. Here he laboured most assiduously
as well as acceptably, nearly a year. About the close of summer, after
exerting himself manifestly beyond his strength, during some weeks of
excessive heat, a great and sudden change of temperature occurred. He
took a severe cold which seriously afi"ected his vocal organs, and rendered
speaking difficult and painful. Pastoral duties still pressing upon him,
however, he continued to discharge them, regardless of personal discomfort,
and apprehending no permanent injury, until a slight hemorrhage of the
lungs warned him of his danger. This was the commencement of the dis-
ease that terminated his life.
After suspending his labours a few weeks, he resumed them, speaking at
first with great caution. In February, 1847, he went to Phelps, N. Y.,
and, after preaching to the First Presbyterian church about three months,
DANIEL TEMPLE. 079
accepted an invitation to become its pastor, and was installed iu June. He
laboured here for two years, with some slight interruptions occasioned by
hoarseness, and then left his charge, for a few weeks, as he supposed, in the
hope that change of air and rest would improve his health, which had grad-
ually failed. But, finding himself unable to resume his professional duties,
he resigned his pastoral charge iu the autumn of 1849.
After this, the progress of his disease, though gradual, was very apparent.
Still he occasionally preached in different places, anxious to spend all his
strength in his Master's service, and did not relinquish the hope of being
again actively engaged, till within a short period of his death. He died in
the perfect confidence of a better life, on the 9th of August, 1851, in the
midst of his relatives, and in the paternal home in which he first saw the
light. His funeral sermon was preached b}' the Rev. William Goodell, mis-
sionary at Constantinople, — then on a visit to this country. It was pub-
lished.
It is not known that Mr. Temple ever published any thing in English,
except a Sermon preached in the Old South church, Boston, in 1822, on
the Sabbath evening previous to his first leaving the country, and some
occasional articles in different periodicals. In his editorial labours in con-
nection with the missionary press, he prepared many books which were pub-
lished in the modern Greek, Italian, and Armenian languages. Besides
elementary works for schools, he wrote many Scripture Histories, as the
Lives of Abraham, Moses, Joseph, David, Daniel, Paul, and others. He
also wrote many articles for a Monthly Magazine, of which he was the
Editor, published in Modern Greek.
FROM THE KEY. WILLIAM GOODELL,
MISSIONARY AT CONSTANTINOPLE,
Dedham, July 16, 1852.
Rev. and dear Sir: With that man of God, of whose character you wish me
to give you a sketch, I had more opportunity for being intimately acquainted,
than almost any other person. Two years at Phillips Academy under our good
Preceptor Adams, four years at Dartmouth College, and three years at Andover
Theological Seminary, — ?iine years we studied together, the last seven of which
we occupied the same room, slept in the same bed, sat at the same table, and
prayed in the same closet. After we left this country, our femilies lived
together nine months under the same roof at Malta; and, though we subse-
quently occupied different stations, j'et we occasionally visited each other, and
our correspondence, always frequent, was, during all the latter years of his
sojourn in the East, as often certainly as once a week. Several hundreds of his
letters I must have preserved at Constantinople, all of which are as fresh and
good as though they had been written in the New Jerusalem above, rather than
at Smyrna in Turkey here below. In the remarks then, which follow, you will
understand me to "speak that I do know, and to testify that I have seen."
The appearance of Mr. Temple was truly patriarchal and apostolic. Who-
ever saw him, would be likely to think at once of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob,
Peter, or Paul. Though always kind and courteous in his manners, yet he was
as venerable as we can well imagine any of those ancient worthies to have been.
He always secured the respect of men, even of the most thoughtless and gay.
At College, neither the ambitious on the one band, nor the idle and dissipated
on the other, were ever known to trifle with his name or character. He was
never nicknamed. Whenever he spoke, he commanded attention, and every
680
TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
voice would be at once hushed, however noisj^ and boisterous before. It was
not his logic, but his goodness, — not his great reiisoning powers, but his great
candour of mind and courteousness of manner, that always secured for him a
patient hearing. For, though he was a good scholar, and stood much higher in
the estimation of his Tutors and class-mates than in his own estimation, yet it
was not his scholarship, but the moral excellence of his character, that made
him so great, and that gave him such influence.
His manner in the pulpit was always serious and impressive. His voice was
sonorous; his demeanour dignified; his thoughts weighty and solemn; and his
fine, open countenance would be generally lighted up with a bright glow of ani-
mation. His sermons would never fail to secure the close attention of all his
hearers; but they would be especially prized by all the inquiring, the praying,
and the spiritually-minded ones, of the congregation. With metaphysics and
politics he never meddled. The Scriptures Avere his metaphysics. The Scrip-
tures were his Theology. The Holy Spirit and his own experience were his
Masters, and he knew no other. It is believed that but very few could,
from Sabbath to Sabbath, " bring fortli out of their treasures things new and
old," for " the edifying of the body of Christ," like this good brother.
His acquaintance with the Scriptures was wonderful. He was familiar with
every part of them. He drank deeply into the spirit of them. " The word of
Christ " dwelt in him " richly;" nor was this in a foolish or in an unprofitable
manner, but it was " in all wisdom." All his prayers and his preaching, and
even his common conversation, showed his familiarity with these spiritual
classics. Thougli he did not always quote them, yet his allusions to them were
constant, and were most natural and happy. He loved them; he reverenced
them; and he used them in a manner no less reverent than pertinent.
His manner of explaining the Scriptures was most simple and easy; and, from
the beginning of the year unto the end of it, he could sit jyid explain. them n 11
day long in a manner the most fomiliar, instructive, and unostentatious, and
with a glow of countenance which indicated how deepl}'- his own heart was
aff"ected with the truth. In this respect I never knew his equal. In this respect
he was " higlier from his shoulders and upward than any of the people." This
habit made him a very instructive and agreeable companion; and it fitted him
most admirably to take a prominent part in little social prayer meethigs.
For all meetings of this kind he always seemed as ready as though he had just
received a fresh " unction from the Holy One;" by virtue of which, he had clear
and impressive vieM^s of truth and duty, and " knew all things."
The habits of Mr. Temple were always devotional, and that to a vei-y extraor-
dinary degree. His hours for retirement wei'e most sacred. He had daily inter-
course Mnth the Father and his Son Jesus Christ. His praj-ers were always
pertinent, fervent, and copious; and those who united with him, might well
wonder why he ever finished them; for he always seemed to have as much to say
at the close as when he first began.
This man of God never obtruded himself " where he ought not." From the
first day of my acquaintance Avith him till the last, in all his intercourse with his
fellow-students, or with any others, I never knew him to take any other than
" the lowest place;" and that place he always kept till called upon by those pre-
sent to " go up higher." He was indeed, (in the language of one of his parish-
ioners in this country,) "as complete a gentleman as St. Paul himself." IIo
was no Frenchman in his manners, but he was as emphatically " courteous " as
that liberally educated Apostle enjoins all his Christian brethren to be.
Though he Avas not so acute a reasoner as some, j^et he was exceedingly fond
of religious discussion; or rather, so great aa%is his loA'e for religious truth, that
he could not refrain from conversing about it Avith CA'ery body, CA^en with oppo-
sers. But his patience under interruption and contradiction, and his forbearance
DANIEL TEMPLE. gg]
with all the ignoi-ance and self-conceit frequently manifested by such persons,
were truly astonishing. lie always made such discussions a personal matter
with them, and pointed out their danger with great plainness; bnt withal he
manifested such a sincere and tender regai'd for their temporal and especially
eternal welfare, that they seemed to feel that he was their best friend, and it is
believed he never made any one his enemy by such plain dealing.
When Mr. Temple commenced his studies, he could not be prevailed upon to
take any exercise. During his whole College life, it is not believed he ever took
three steps for the sake of exercise, lie felt the need of none, and took none.
But he enjoyed good health all the time, and studied full three or four times as
much every day as his chum was able to do. In after life, however, he found it
necessary for his health to take exercise, and he attended to it with much regu-
larity. So, in the former part of his religious course, he very seldom indulged in
a real hearty laugh. He thought it savoured of levity. And when he saw his
less scrupulous room-mate indulging himself in this respect beyond what he
thought was meet, (which was by no means an uncommon event in those days,)
he would bring down his fist with mighty energy upon the table and exclaim,
" I said of laughter, it is mad; and of mirth, what doeth it .^" But, in after
life, he found this also conducive to health, and he did not hesitate, at proper
times, to indulge in it with great freedom, as though he had all confidence in the
efficacy of the medicine. Indeed his spirit was more cheerful in the latter part
of his life, than it was in the former part; and so much the more, as he " saw
the day approaching."
The character of this good man, as a Missionary, can be readily inferred from
his general character as a Christian. All that spirit of candour, of prayerfulness,
and of entire consecration, which distinguished him as a Christian, he carried
with him into the missionary field. On account of his connection with the
press, however, his la^^ours did not tell as the labours of some others have done.
He was connected with the press from first to last, though this connection was
rather an unnatural one, as being much less suited to his taste than more spirit-
ual labours, which would bring the very tones of his voice into contact with the
consciences and hearts of men. But he was " faithful in that which is least."
The first mission press sent to Western Asia, he took with him, when he sailed
from Boston to Malta. But though he set up the press in that Island, and was
a missionary in Malta, yet he was not a missionary to Malta; for all the opera-
tions of the press were for the regions be3'ond. In 1833, he removed with the
press to Smyrna, and fought its battles there, when it was ordered out of the
country; but though he continued with it there till he left the mission in 1844,
yet after all he was never, properlj^ speaking, a missionary to Smj^rna. Schools
among the Greeks indeed he superintended there, and the glorious Gospel of the
blessed God he preached there, generally in English, as indeed he did with great
power and success at Malta; but his principal labours were in connection with
the press. And whoever would see what he did, must go to Constantinople, to
Aintab, and indeed through the whole length and breadth of the land. Where-
ever the numerous books that issued from his press were sent or carried, there
it was, our brother spoke; and in whatever city, or town, or village, or family,
the reading of those books was blessed to any individual, there the fruits of his
labours appear.
There was one kind of missionary labour very faithfully performed by our
brother, which is deserving of special notice, viz: He was a missionary to all
his missionary associates. By his example before them, his prayers for them,
his intercourse with them, or his letters to them, he endeavoured to make them
all better missionaries. He rejoiced in their success as in his own. And indeed
their success was his, being the result of his own labours and prayers, peihaps
Vol. II 86
582 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
in some cases, even more than of theirs, though he would himself be the last
person to entertain any such thought.
I fear, my dear Sir, that the meagre sketch I have thus given you, will be as
far from meeting your expectations as it is from meeting my own wishes; and
could I only sit down in my own study at Constantinople, I could easily recall
so many interesting reminiscences of that good brother as to be able to do much
better justice to lus character. But in this country, I am so driven about from
place to place, that, in writing the above, I had to pen a few lines h.ere, and a few
there, as I could find a moment's leisure.
Yours in the bonds of the Gospel,
W. GOODELL.
BENJAMIN BLYDENBURG WISNER, D. D *
1820—1835.
Benjamin Blydenburg Wisner was born in Goshen, Orange county,
N. Y., September 29, 1794. He was the eldest son of Polydore B. and
Maria (Blydenburg) Wisner ; both of whom were professors of religion.
His father was one of the first settlers of Goshen, and one of the founders
of the Presbyterian church in that village. He removed to Geneva, Onta-
rio county, when this son was three years old. He was a lawyer by pro-
fession, and, for several years previous to his decease, held the office of
District Attorney for the Western part of New York. He died at the age
of forty-four, when his son Benjamin had just reached the age of twenty.
On his return home from a tour of official duty, he was seized with a vio-
lent illness, which quickly had a fatal issue.
The youthful days of the son were spent under the paternal roof, partly
in study, and partly in the pursuits of agriculture. To the circumstance
of his having been accustomed to labour on a farm, he attributed much of
the physical vigour for which he was distinguished in subsequent years. He
pursued his studies preparatory to entering College under the tuition of the
Rev. Dr. Axtell, then pastor of the church in Geneva. He joined the
Sophomore class in Union College, Schenectady, in 1810, and graduated
in 1813, at the age of nineteen.
His first year after leaving College he spent as Principal of an Academy
at Johnstown, N. Y. At the close of the year he returned home ; and, as
his father died about this time, he was occupied nearly fifteen months in
settling the estate and managing the farm. He had entered his name as a
student at Law in the office of the Hon. Judge Piatt ; but, on his way to
Orange county, where he had business to transact, he stopped at Schenec-
tady, and was strongly solicited to accept a Tutorship in the College. He
did accept it, and continued in the office from the autumn of 1815 to the
close of the collegiate year of 1818. He has been heard to say that he
found much advantage in what the worthy President told him was a law for
the officers of that institution, "never to be angry but by rule."
* Communication from Mrs. Wisner.
BENJAMIN BLYDENBURG TTISNER. g83
While he was a student in College, those religious impressions which had
been the result of a faithful parental training, seem to have been revived
and deepened, and without any thing like a strongly marked experience, he
indulged the hope that he had become reconciled to God. In the early part
of 1810, while he held the office of Tutor, he joined the Presbyterian
church in Schenectady, and commenced the study of Theology under the
direction of the Rev. Dr. Andrew Yates, then a Professor in the College.
During the period of his Tutorship, he evinced his desire to be useful, by
gathering, in connection with a fellow Tutor, a small congregation of
coloured people, whom they addressed on Saturday evening in relation to
their spiritual interests, and met on Sabbath morning for the purpose of
communicating Sabbath school instruction.
He resigned his Tutorship, and became a member of the Theological
Seminary at Princeton, in November, 1818. He entered the Seminary one
year in advance, having previously made himself quite familiar with the
Hebrew. As a Theological student, he was most diligent and laborious ;
and, in addition to his other duties, he was an active superintendent of a
Sabbath school. In June, 1820, he was licensed to preach, and, during
that summer, preached as a candidate to the Presbyterian church in New
Brunswick, N. J., and received a unanimous call to become their pastor, —
which he declined. On the recommendation of Dr. Miller, he was invited to
preach as a candidate in the Old South church, Boston, then vacant by the
death of the Rev. Joshua Huntington. He accepted this invitation in
September following, at which time he left the Seminary: the result of his
probationary preaching was, that, in the succeeding November, that church
extended to him a call to become its pastor ; which, after due deliberation,
he accepted.
He was regularly introduced to the pastoral office in the Old South
church, February 21, 1821. The ordination sermon was preached by the
Rev. Dr. Woods of Andover. Here he continued his labours during a
period of twelve years. In October, 1832, he was appointed Secretary of
the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Miss<ions ; and in
November following he resigned his charge, with a view to accept this
appointment. His health had begun to decline a year previous to his
dismission ; and, in February, 1832, he repaired to a Southern climate, in
the hope of invigorating his constitution ; but, on his return to Boston in
June following, he found himself still too feeble to resume his pastoral
duties. He spent the summer in Connecticut, during which his health con-
siderably improved. It was in these circumstances, though not without
much anxious deliberation and consultation, that he accepted the new and
responsible office proffered to him.
He addressed himself with great vigour and success to the arduous duties
which now devolved upon him ; and his natural energy of character, his
remarkable aptitude for business, and his absorbing interest in the mission-
ary cause, rendered these duties at once easy and pleasant. He travelled
extensively in different parts of the Union, forming new missionary organiz-
ations, and, by his effective addresses, elevated the standard of missionary
feeling and effort. His health, meanwhile, became increasingly vigorous ;
and, at the time when he was overtaken by his last illness, he felt that he
was enjoying an almost renovated constitution.
584 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
But, in the midst of a career which seemed full of promise and hope, he
was suddenly arrested. On Wednesday the 4th of February, he was taken
ill, and the disease, in its progress, developed itself as scarlet fever. On
the succeeding Friday night, it first assumed a threatening aspect, and soon
all his faculties sunk under its power. In his delirium, his mind fastened
almost continually upon subjects pertaining to the Kingdom of Christ, and
especially to the cause of missions. He died on the 9th of February, 1835,
in the forty-first year of his age.
Mr. Wisner received many testimonies of the high estimation in which he
was held by the churches and by the public at large. Ho was honoured with
the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Union College in 1828. He was a
member of the Board of Directors of the American Education Society, and
of the Prudential Committee of the American Board of Commissioners
for Foreign Missions ; was a Trustee of the Theological Seminary at Ando-
ver, &c. During his ministry, he was invited to occupy several dift'erent
spheres of usefulness, among which was the Professorship of Ecclesiastical
History and Pastoral Care in the Theological Seminary at Audcver ; but
his strong predilections for the appropriate work of a minister led him to
decline them all.
Dr. Wisner published a Sermon on the death of Mrs. Miriam Phillips,
182.3 ; a Sermon before the Foreign Missionary Society of Boston and
vicinity, 1824 ; Review of Dr. Channing's Dedication Sermon, (anonymous,)
182G ; a Sermon on the death of Hon. William Phillips, 1827 ; a Sermon
before the Society for propagating the Gospel, 1829 ; History of the Old
South church in Boston, in four Sermons, 1830 ; a Sermon on Sabbath
schools, 1830; Review of "the New Divinity tried,"" (anonymous,) 1832.
Dr. Wisner was married in November. 1820, to Sarah Johnson, of Johns-
town, N. Y., who still (1850) survives. They had no children.
My acquaintance with Dr. Wisner commenced when he became a student
in the Theological Seminary at Princeton, and soon passed into a friendship
which continued till the close of his life. I was impressed from the begin-
ning, as I believe all who knew him at Princeton were, with his substantial
and enduring qualities, particularly his sound judgment, his severe intellec-
tual discipline, his thoroughness in every thing that he undertook, his
unvarying cheerfulness and good nature, and his deep interest in the work
to which he had devoted himself. When he was ordained at Boston, I was
a member of the ordaining council, and from that time till his death was a
frequent visitor iu his family. In his private intercourse, he was free and
cheerful, but never forgot the decorum that belonged to his office. He was
a true and generous friend, and there are many besides myself, who remem-
ber with pleasure and gratitude his warm and whole-souled greetings. His
preaching was eminently sober and instructive ; his style was rigidly cor-
rect, without any attempt at ornament; and his delivery was somewliat that
of a lawyer engaged for his client. He was rather below than above the
medium stature, and had a face expressive of much vigour and intelligence.
His manners were simple and natural, indicating an independent spirit, and
yet far from any thing forward or assuming. He was thoroughly, even
sternly, true to his convictions, whatever sacrifice it might cost him.
BENJAMIN BLYDENBURG WISNER. (j85
FROM THE REV. FRANCIS WAYLAND, D. D.,
PRESIDENT OF BROWN UNIVERSITY.
Providence, October 15, 1850.
llev. and dear Sir: My acquaintance with the late lamented Dr. Wisner com-
menced in the spring of the year ISII. At that time, I joined the Sophomore
class in Union College, of which he was a member. We soon, of course, became
known to each other, and were on intimate terms until the day of his death.
When I first saw Mr. Wisner, he was, I think, in his seventeenth year, just
approaching manhood, and remarkable for personal beaut}'. His bearing was
frank, open, and prompt; his manners well formed for a person of his age, and
conveying the idea that he was intended to command rather than to obey. We
belonged to the same Literary Society, and in the recitation room sat near to each
other, — I had therefore every oppoitunity of observing his character and esti-
mating his scholarship. Still it may be proper to remark that I was not so inti
mate with him while we were in College as at a later period. He was a far bet-
ter scholar, and of a much maturer mind, than mj'self. He was a leader both
in our literarj"- fraternity and in the class. I could claim no such distinction.
He was naturally more intimate with those who held a rank similar to his own.
To those who have known him in subsequent life, I can best convey my con-
ception of his character in youth, by saying that years produced less change in
him than in almost any person whom I have ever known. He was just such a
person in youth as they would have expected from the developments of his matu-
rer life. The features of his intellectual and moral character became more mas-
sive, and were more strongly developed, but their relative proportions remained
the same, from the beginning to the end.
Mr. Wisner was one of the two best scholars of the large class of 1813. I say
one of the two best, for the question of precedence between him and his nearest
competitor, Mr. Gilford, was never fully decided. It had previously been the
custom to appoint the first scholar in the class. Valedictorian; and to place his
name first in the assignment of parts. In this case, however, the usage was
departed from, and Mr. Wisner's name was placed first, with the appointment
of the Salutatory oration, and Mr. Giflbrd's second, with that of the Valedictory
addresses. The friends of each claimed for their champion the highest rank.
Mr. Gilford was several years older than 'Sir. Wisner, and after giving high pro-
mise of usefulness, died of consumption, while pursuing liis professional studies.
Mr. Wisner, while a student, was remarkable for thoroughness and readiness
of scholarship. I presume that no one ever heard him fail or even trip in the
recitation room. No matter how difficult might be the lesson, he was always
prepared. I distinctly remember how, when several of those around him shrunk
from encountering a difficult demonstration, he would, when called upon, go
through it with perfect ease, to the admiration of both his instructer and his
class-mates. He was a sound and accurate linguist, a correct and forcible wri-
ter, but I think was most distinguished as a mathematician. He was, through-
out his life, remarkable for exact system, and rigid punctuality. I presume that
throughout his whole collegiate course, he Avas never absent from an exercise,
unless he were unavoidably detained. His anxiet}' to improve his time to the
utmost was intense, and the literar}' labour which he, at this early period, accom-
plished, seemed to his contemporaries almost incredible. On one occasion, his
love of study was nearly the cause of serious misfortune. He was attacked
with the measles during his Junior year, and, from using his eyes before they
had recovered their usual strength, he contracted an opthalmia inflammation,
which was with difiiculty arrested, and of the efiects of which, I think I have
heard him, late in life, complain.
586 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
In the Literary Society to which we belonged, Mr. Wisner was, during his
time, decidedly the leader. Fond of composition, and still fonder of debate, he
always took a prominent part in all the discussions which arose amongst us.
His memory was strong and admirably disciplined, his command of language
superior to that of most of his competitors, his voice clear, and his utterance
perfectly distinct. With these advantages, he was certainly one of the best
extempore speakers of his age I have ever known. As he grew up, and espe-
cially after he was settled in the ministry, I think he did not improve as a
speaker, but the contrary. The reason I supposed to be that the delivery of
written discourses was less suited to the habits of his mind than the speaking in
debate; and that, being obliged to preach in a house of worship too large for the
powers of his voice, the simple effort to be heard destroyed many of those more
delicate intonations on which effectiveness of public speaking so much depends.
At this early period, he was distinguished for his skill in managing men, and in
adjusting the opposing claims of conflicting parties. It was very rare that he
ever failed in carrying any measure in the meetings of our Society upon which
he had deliberately resolved. The prevalent impression among his acquaint-
ances was, that he was designed for the Law, — the profession of his father.
Such was, at this time, his own intention. No one, at all familiar with the char-
acter of his mind, can doubt that he would have attained to as high distinction
in this profession as he did in that which he subsequently adopted.
We were graduated in Julj', 1813, and I believe I did not again meet Mr. Wis-
ner until I was appointed Tutor in Union College in the 3^ear 1817. He was
then, with his usual ardour and success, devoting himself to the study of Hebrew
and Theology. His attention was now confined almost exclusivel}' to prepara-
tion for his future profession. He had made abstracts of books, transcribed lec-
tures of eminent theological teachers, and written dissertations on questions in
Divinitj^, until his manuscripts at this time would have furnished no contempti-
ble stock in trade to a Professor of Theolog}^.
At the close of the first year of my Tutorship, Mr. Wisner left Union College
and joined the middle class at the Princeton Seminary. Of his standing and
attainments while there, others can speak from actual observation. After this,
we had no studies in common, unless our conversations on our pastoral duties
and pulpit preparations can be called such. Of this part of his life, however,
it is not necessary that I should speak, as others are more competent than
myself to do justice to the subject.
Very truly yours,
FRANCIS WAYLAND.
FROM THE REV RUFUS ANDERSON, D. D.
Missionary House, Boston. October 27, 1851.
My dear Sir: Dr. Wisner came into connection with us, as one of the three
Corresponding Secretaries of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign
Missions, in the autumn of 1832; and we were favoured with his co-operation till
his decease in February, 1835. His was the home-department in the correspond-
ence,— having special charge of the system of means for raising funds and pro-
curing missionaries. This was before the General Assembly's Board for Foreign
Missions was formed, and the entire broad field covered by the Congregational,
Presbyterian, and Reformed Dutch, Churches, was before him. In fact the Pres-
byterian Churches of the South were organized for action in aid of Foreign Mis-
sions in direct connection with his oflBcial agency. He had been four years a
member of the Prudential Committee of the Board, previous to his election as
Secretary, and was enabled to enter at once on his duties with the advantage of a
large stock of appropriate information.
I
BENJAMI^^ BLYDENBURG WISNER. g87
The three Secretaries were co-ordinate, each having his own distinct and well-
defined department of hibour. This was then, I believe, a novel arrangement
among the benevolent Societies of this country, — a new species of coUeagueship;
and there were circumstances not now worthy of mention, that might easily
have created friction and uneasiness. But nothing of the kind ever occurred. It
was a most pleasant connection while it lasted, and its early and unexpected
termination came upon his surviving associates as an overwhelming calamity.
The truth is, Dr. Wisner had the rarest qual ideations for a secretariship in a
great missionary institution. In the thirty years of my connection M-ith the
Board, with all my opportunities for observation, I have never known his supe-
rior, and I might even say, his equal. His spirit, naturally, perhaps, somewhat
overbearing, had been softened by a partial failure of health, while in the pasto-
ral office, and by pastoral trials. Cheerful, social, rejoicing in the usefulness of
his associates, and of all about him, his fine conversational powers made him a
most agreeable companion. His public spirit made him ready for every good
work; and such was his love for work, that he seemed never to grow wear)" in
well-doing. He did every thing promptly and thoroughly, and little things and
great things equally Avell; not with eye-service or to have glory of men, but
because he loved to be doing good, and because nature and grace made him happy
in doing with his might what his hand found to do. So it was always and every
where; and this made him the man for committees and sub-committees, on which
he was generally to be found, when work was to be done, trenching largely upon
the hours usually appropriated to rest and sleep. I love to remember Dr. Wis-
ner as a business man. He was a model in that respect, — wakeful, cheerful, col-
lected, judicious, laborious, devoted, disinterested. It was no mere official inte-
rest he had in his duties. The public welfare was his own. He felt a responsi-
bility for the course of events. His heart was in the great cause of missions, —
in everj' part of it. Having preceded him in the general duties M'hich devolved
on him by half a score of years, I was able to trace, — which I did with great
delight, — the progress of his mind and heart, as he entered more and more into
the work of missions, regarded as a science and as an art. He lived not to see
the unwonted tokens of success which of late years have gladdened the people of
God; nor any thing like the full unfoldings of the great and difficult problems
that have since so much taxed the ability of those who survived and succeeded
him; but what pleasure would he have found in those elementary discussions
under the guidance of experience, and apostolical example, and instruction, by
M'hich such problems are to be solved !
Dr. Wisner's forte was executive. But he had great power also in debate in
deliberative bodies. As a writer, he did not readily adapt himself to the popular
mind. There was a lack of fancy and imagination, of the discursive and illus-
trative power, and of flow in thought and style, — defects, I have supposed, that
were in part owing to some infelicity in the manner of his education. But, as
an extemporaneous debater, he would have commanded a respectable attention on
the floor of either house of Congress. He seemed, at the very outset of the dis-
cussion, to have an intuitive perception of the leading points, in their natural
relations and order, and to be at once prepared for a logical, instructive, convinc-
ing argument. This always gave him influence in deliberative bodies. There
his tact and ability seemed never to be at fault.
His mental powers came early to maturity, and comparing his labours an J
influence with those of other men, he needed not three score years and ten to
stand with the more favoured men in the impression made upon his age. Yet his
early death has ever seemed to me among the greater mysteries of God's holy
providence. I am. Rev. and dear Sir,
Very resnectfully and truly yours,
RUFUS ANDERSON.
688 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
WILLIAM RICHARDS *
1822—1847.
William Richards, a son of James Richards, was born at Plainfield,
Mass., August 22, 1792. His parents, though not in affluent circumstances,
were persons of most exemplary character, which secured to their children
an excellent Christian education. At the age of tiftceu, William became
hopefully a subject of renewing grace, and, three years after, united with the
churcli in his native ])lace, under the pastoral care of the llcv. Moses Hal-
lock. His brother James, who was several years older than himself, had,
about the time of his graduation at Williams College, disclosed to him hia
intention to become a missionary to the Heathen ; and this awakened in
William a desire to follow in his footsteps ; and the desire was gradually
matured into a purpose ; and the purpose was ultimately accomplished.
Having fitted for College under the instruction of his pastor, Mr, Hal-
lock, he entered Williams College in 1815, and was graduated in 1819.
From College he went immediately to Andover and became a member of
the Theological Seminary, where he continued till 1822. In February of
tliat year, — the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions
having it in contemplation to reinforce tlie mission to the Sandwich Islands,
which had been commenced two years before, Mr. Richards offered himself
for that service. The offer was accepted. He was ordained at New Haven
on the 12th of September following, at the same time with two other foreign
missionaries, — the ordination sermon being preached by the Rev. Dr.
Miller, Professor in the Theological Seminary at Princeton. In October,
he was married to Clarissa, daughter of Levi Lyman of Northampton, Mass.
On the 19th of November, he embarked at New Haven in company with
two other ordained missionaries and four natives of the Sandwich Islands,
who had been receiving instruction in this country, and had not only become
acquainted with Christianity, but had been hopefully brought under its
power. On the evening preceding their departure, Mr. Richards preached
an appropriate sermon from Isaiah LX. 9.: "Surely the isles shall wait
for me."
After a pleasant and prosperous voyage of a little more than five months,
during which the missionaries were allowed not only to conduct public ser-
vice on the Sabbath, but in other v/ays to communicate religious instruction
to the sailors, the ship came to anchor off the island of Honolulu, on Sun-
day, the 27th of April. The missionaries were met with a cordial welcome,
not only by their associates, but by several Chiefs of the island. In the
distribution of the new labourers, Mr. Richards and the Rev. C. S. Stewart
were assigned to the station in Lahaina, on the island of Maui, where they
took up their residence in May.
By a series of events which cannot here be stated, but which marked a
most distinct and special providential agency, a wonderful preparation had
been made for the introduction of the Grospel into the Sandwich Islands ;
and Mr. Richards, from his first arrival there, found much to strengthen his
faith and encourage his efforts. As soon as he had gained such a knowledge
* Missionary Heroes and Martyrs. — MS. 'from Mrs. Richarda.
WILLIAM RICHARDS. ggg
of the language as to be able to use it in the way of communicating public
religious instruction, he found many attentive hearers, and, at no distant
period, had evidence that the Gospel was producing upon some of them its
legitimate effect. In 1825, a remarkable spirit of religious inquiry was
manifested and a large number were turned from the error of their ways. Sev-.
eral places of worship were erected, and about eight hundred persons were,
in a short time, gathered in schools in different parts of the island.
But it was not long before the most dishonourable and wicked attempts
were made to impede the progress of the good work, which had been com-
menced by the missionaries, — not by the degraded Heathen themselves, whose
systems of idolatry and superstition were assailed, but by the natives of
Christian lands, — the foreign residents on the Islands, and others who occa-
sionally visited them. Such were the outrages committed by the crew of
the English whale ship Daniel, with Captain Buckle as their leader, that
Mr. Richards felt himself called upon to make an appeal to the tribunal of
public opinion. He accordingly transmitted to Boston a full account of
the affair, — than which scarcely any thing more foul and brutal can be con-
ceived, and it quickly found its way into the newspapers, and at no distant
period was received at the Islands. This produced the greatest excitement
on the part of those whose flagitious conduct was thus exposed to the world ;
and they even threatened to take the life of Mr. Richards, and to reduce
the island of Lahaina to utter desolation. Complaints were made against
the missionaries, and the Chiefs called a council to hear them. The com-
plainants were requested to reduce their charges to writing, but declined ;
and on Mr. Richards being sent for to confront them, they hastily withdrew.
The Chiefs passed laws against several different forms of immorality, to be
enforced through all the Islands ; and Hoapili, the native Governor of
Lahaina, provided a large quantity of cannon and ammunition, that they
might be ready to resist any future attacks. An end was thus put to this
species of annoyance ; though the foreign residents did not fail to take the
only revenge they could upon the missionaries, by gross and cruel mis-
representation.
In 1828, a season of great religious interest commenced, which continued
for two or three years. At the close of 1829, the number of communicants
was one hundred and eighty-five, and one hundred and twelve were added
during the next year. The progress of general improvement was now
increasingly rapid ; and the government not only re-enacted the penal code,
but extended it over the persons of foreigners living within the jurisdic-
tion. This movement was speedily sanctioned by a communication to the
King from the President of the United States.
Two or three years after this, the missionaries were again severely tried,
in consequence of the young King throwing off the restraints of a regency,
repealing part of the criminal code, and in various ways giving his sanction
to immorality and irreligion. However, it was only for a season that the
spirit of reform seemed to be checked. Already had Christianity gained so
powerful a footing in the minds, and hearts, and habits, of the people, as to
be an over-match for even the corrupt influence of the King ; and it still
continued to advance, notwithstanding the temporary obstacles it had to
encounter from foreign interference, until it had accomplished a triumph,
the record of which forms perhaps the brightest chapter in the history of
the modern missionary enterprise. In bringing about this glorious result,
Vol. II. 87
g90 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Mr. Kicliards had a prominent agency. In 1837, after ho had spent
fourteen years in missionary labour, he made a visit to the United
States, bringing with him his wife and six chiklreu. He came partly on
account of the health of his wife, partly to make provision for educating his
children in this country, partly with a view to increase the interest of the
Churches here in the Sandwich Islands mission and the cause of missions gen-
erally, and finally to secure some suitable civilian to fill the place which
has since been occupied by the Hon. Judge Lee in the councils of the
nation. He succeeded in accomplishing all the objects but the last. He
returned with Mrs. Richards in the spring of 1838.
Mr. Richards now seemed the most suitable person to act as the King'^
counsellor, as well as interpreter, translator, and chaplain ; and these sev-
eral places he consented to occupy ; while his labours among his own church
and people were unremitted. About this time he translated Dr. Wayland's
Treatise on Political Economy, and formed an interesting class, v/hich ho
daily instructed on that and kindred subjects. Here they first saw clearly
defined the duties of ruleni and the rights of the common people. Despo-
tism began now gradually to yield. The old Feudal system was broken
down, and the King and Chiefs became willing to give up their lands to
the people in fee simple, and afterwards allow them a voice in legislation.
In 184"i, Sir George Simpson visited the Islands, and expressed his sym-
pathy for the King and people, and urged Mr. Richards to do something to
render them an independent nation, promising whatever aid might be in his
power ; and this promise he faithfully fulfilled. In due time, the inde-
pendence of the Islands was secured and guaranteed by England, France,
and Belgium, and afterwards by the United States.
Mr. Richards, on the organization of a responsible government, was sent
as an Ambassador to England, and several other foreign courts, and per-
formed the mission with great conscientiousness and fidelity. After an
absence of about three years, he returned to his work in March, 1845 ; but he
found every thing sadly deranged. A new government had been organized,
and several foreigners employed, — which was displeasing alike to the com-
mon people and most of the Chiefs. Earnest petitions were sent in from
every island, from the natives, that Mr. Richards, in whom they reposed the
utmost confidence, would take the place he occupied before by the King,
and that the foreign officials might be dismissed. His mind revolted from a
life of political strife, and for a season he was thrown into extreme perplex-
ity, as to the course which Providence marked out for him. He would
gladly have retired from the scene of conflict to his missionary work at
Lahaina; but the King had left Lahaina, and desired him to change the
place of his residence to Honolulu, the present seat of government. A
place was at last found near the King's person, where his influence, so much
needed at this crisis, could be exerted for the good of the King and the
nation. He was appointed minister of public instruction, — an office which
devolved upon him the care of all the schools, both Catholic and Protestant,
and also gave him a seat in the King's Privy Council. As a member of
the Cabinet, he, probably, more than any other person, influenced the young
King. He regularly preached at the palace on Sabbath evening, when there
were present all the members of the Royal family, the school of young
Chiefs, their own particular friends, and some of the missionaries. His
last sermon in the palace particularly was characterized by remarkable
WILLIAM RICHARDS. 691
power and fervour. One missionary who heard it, observed — "I fear Mr.
Richards is going to leave us ;" — apprehending that the King was about to
send him on another foreign embassy, and that he had been saying his last
words, — which indeed they proved to be, — to the King and people.
Mr. Richards had now an amount of labour devolving upon him in his
two-fold relations to the Church and the State, that kept him constantly and
most intensely occupied ; and it proved more than his constitution could
endure. On the 18th of July, 1847, while he was at the palace, penning
a Resolution on some matter of vital importance to the nation, and on which
he had spoken with some animation a few moments before, it was observed
that his countenance suddenly changed and took on a deathlike aspect, and
he himself noticed that the blood had settled under his nails. He found it
difficult to speak, but, in a few minutes, seemed entirely relieved. The
attack proved, however, the harbinger of death ; and so he seems to have
regarded it ; for, immediately after, he proceeded to set his house in order, —
giving directions in respect to his family, and making all necessary adjustment
of his affairs. In about six weeks he was confined to his bed ; and, as his
disease advanced, he became unable to express himself intelligibly, either by
speaking or writing. The 7th of December brought an end to his suffering
and his life. A short time before he expired, as the King was sitting by
his bedside weeping, he commended to him his wife and children, by pointing
significantly towards them. The King understood him to say — "Take care
of them;" and he replied, "Aye, aye." And he remembered his promise;
for, after Mr. Richards' death, he settled a small annuity upon them. He
sent for his portrait, for which he paid a hundred and fifty dollars, and it
hangs in the palace of the present King. Mr. Richards' remains were
placed in the Royal Cemetery, but afterwards removed to Lahaina, where
they repose near the stone church which was built under his superintendence,
and in which, for nearly twenty years, he faithfully preached the Gospel.
He laboured in Honolulu, two years and a half, after his return, till his
death.
Mr. Richards was the father of eight children, — six of whom, as has been
already stated, accompanied their parents to this country in 1837, while the
two youngest remained at the Islands till after their father's death, and came
hither with their mother, on her return in 1850. The eldest son, William
L., was adopted by President Rrown of Jefferson College, Penn. After
graduating there, and spending one year in the University of New York, he
became a member of the Union Theological Seminary, N. Y., and in the
autumn of 1847 went as a missionary to China. His father, to whom he was
most tenderly attached, died at the Sandwich Islands, about the time of the
son's embarkation; but the tidings did not reach him until his arrival in
China the spring follov.ing. His anxiety to do his whole duty to his widowed
mother and two younger sisters, and at the same time to accomplish the work
he had commenced in China ; his reconsideration of the question whether he
should labour in China or in the Sandwicli Islands, together with the oppres-
sive heat of the climate, all tended to impair his health and induce a hem-
orrhage from which he never recovered. He died on his homeward passage,
and was buried in the ocean off St. Helena, on the 5th of June, 1851. He
had acquired a good knowledge of the Chinese language in the short period
of three years, and had used it, to good purpose, both in preaching and in
oral irr^tiTctidu. Two other of the sons have been graduated at Amherst
592 TRINITARIAN COHTGREGATIONAL.
College, one of whom has studied Theology, the other medicine. One of
the daughters is married to Professor W. S. Clark of Amherst College.
Mrs. Richards still (1856) survives and resides at New Haven.
FROM GERARD HALLOCK, ESQ.
New York, August, 31, 1855.
Reverend and dear Sir: The late William Richards was born and brought up
xvithin a mile of my father's residence in Plainfield, Mass. He attended the same
school and church with myself, fitted for College with my father, was my class-
mate through College, and in short, my opportunities to form a correct estimate
of his character, during his youth and early manhood, could scarcely have been
surpassed. After he left College, my intercourse with him and personal know-
ledge of him were much abridged, but continued, more or less, by correspondence
or otherwise, until his death.
He was rather above the average stature of men; strong and muscular; not
specially attractive in his person or manners, but commanding confidence and
respect by his manifest integrity, firmness, and energy, and gaining the affections
of those who knew him intimately by his qualities of mind and heart. His
intellectual powers were of a high order. When at College, he excelled in
mathematics, natural and intellectual philosophy, and logic, while, in the lan-
guages and belles lettres, he scarcely rose above the common average. His reli-
gious character, after his conversion, was decided, — his faith firm, his purposes
steadfast. He was more like Paul than like John; eminently fitted for arduous
undertakings, and ready to bear reproach, self-denial, and suffering, if need be,
in the cause of his Divine Master. As a preacher, he was distinguished rather
for energy and point, than for eloquence in the common acceptation of the term.
His sermons were faithful exhibitions of the truth as it is in Jesus. He sought
rather to save men than to please them.
Take him all in all, William Richards was a noble specimen of sanctified
humanity, endued and endowed with high qualifications for the missionary work ;
faithful even unto death. And his memory is blessed.
Very truly yours,
GERARD HALLOCK.
JAMES MARSH, D. D.*
1822—1842.
James Marsh was born in Hartford. Vt., July 19, 1794. His father,
Daniel Marsh, was a respectable farmer, a man of good understanding, and
excellent moral qualities. Joseph Marsh, the grandfather of James, emi-
grated from Lebanon, Conn., to Vermont, about the year 1772, and was
among the earliest settlers of that part of the country. Being a man of
more than common talents, and of great energy of character, he was
actively engaged in public concerns ; and, on the organization of the gov-
ernment in 1778, was chosen the first Lieutenant Grovernor, and was subse-
quently more than once re-elected to the same office. The subject of this
notice was born in the house of his grandfather, a pleasant mansion in the
♦ Life prefixed to his Works.— MS. from Prof. Torrey.
V JAMES MARSH. ggg
valley of Otta Quechee river. Here he spent the first eighteen years of his
life in labouring on a farm; and he had, at that time, no other expectation
or wish than to spend his whole life in the same way. But his elder
brother, who was destined for College, having been diverted from his pur-
pose, James was induced to take his place ; and, accordingly, having gone
through his preparatory studies under the tuition of Mr. William Nutting,
who was then Preceptor of the Academy at Handolph, he became a mem-
ber of the Freshman class in Dartmouth College, in the autumn of 1813.
From the commencement of his collegiate course, he manifested a dispo-
sition to be thorough in all his studies ; and very soon took a high stand in
his class, in almost every department. In the spring of 1815, his mind
became deeply exercised on the subject of religion ; insomuch that, for a
time, his attention to his studies was almost entirely suspended. He had
had the benefit of an early religious education, but never until now had felt
the importance of religion as a great practical concern. In due time, after
a season of great darkness and conflict, his mind settled into a state of
devout tranquillity, and he allowed himself to hope that he had been the
subject of a radical spiritual change. Accordingly, in the succeeding
August, he made a public profession of religion, and united with the church
at Dartmouth College. His reputation as a scholar, and as a man of pro-
found and comprehensive intellect, was constantly rising, as he passed
through College, and he was graduated in 1817 with high honour and the
most favourable prospects.
Having resolved on the study of Theology, he entered as a student the
Seminary at Andover, within a few weeks after he was graduated. Here
he remained about one year, when he accepted the office of Tutor in Dart-
mouth College. He found this place altogether agreeable to him ; as he
was enabled, in connection with his official duties, to devote considerable
time to his favourite studies, while he was thrown into a circle altogether
congenial with his tastes and feelings. In the autumn of 1820, he returned
to Andover with a view to complete his professional studies ; though, before
he actually resumed his course there, he spent a few weeks at Cambridge,
partly to avail himself of some of the high advantages which were there
offered, and partly to look at certain subjects from a different point from
that to which he had been accustomed. He seems, for some reason, to have
remained at Cambridge for a shorter time than he expected ; for, after a
few weeks, we find him settled down at Andover, " completely to his
mind." His studies now took a much wider range than the prescribed
course ; and his active and investigating mind showed itself incapable of
resting upon the surface of any thing. So completely was he occupied with
his studies, that he found but little time for ordinary social intercourse ;
and he even contracted a disrelish for many of the religious meetings which
were held, — chiefly, however, on the ground that he thought they were per-
vaded by an undue formality.
During his last year at Andover, Mr. Marsh wrote an article which was
published in the North American Review, containing the results of his
studies for some time previous, in his favourite branches of taste and criti-
cism. It was an exceedingly learned and elaborate article, and was received
with great favour by those most competent to judge of its merits. About
the same time, he undertook, in connection with a friend then residing at
the Seminary as a licentiate, to translate and prepare for the press, tho
594 TRINIT-AJIIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
German work of Bellerman, on the Geography of the Scriptures ; nor did
he desist from his part of the task until it was fully accomplished. But
his manifold labours began now to have a perceptible injurious effect
upon his health ; and he was induced, by the persuasion of his friends, to
withdraw temporarily from his studies, and try the effects of a short sea
voyage and of a visit to the South. He embarked at Boston on board of a
coaster for New York, with an intention of forming some more definite pur-
pose in respect to his journey, after he should arrive there. From New
York he proceeded to Princeton, where he found much to interest and
gratify him, and formed several acquaintances which he ever afterwards
highly valued. Having extended his tour as far as Philadelphia, he returned
by way of New Haven, where he passed some days, greatly to his satisfac-
tion, in the family of the venerable Dr. Morse. After a short visit to his
friends in New Hampshire and Vermont, he was enabled to resume his
studies at Andover, which he continued without interruption till the follow-
ing September, (1822,) when his connection with the Seminary closed.
On leaving the Seminary, he seems to have been not a little in doubt as
to the course which he ought to pursue; and, in this undecided state, he
resolved to return home, and remain, for a while, upon his father's farm,
pursuing his studies, and waiting the further indications of Providence.
He accordingly made the experiment, but soon became tired of it, and
looked anxiously round for some place in which he might be usefully
employed. During the visit at Princeton, already referred to, he had
become acquainted with that great and good man, the Rev. Dr. John H.
Rice of Virginia ; and this acquaintance, as it turned out, had much to do
in deciding his subsequent course. Dr. Rice was chosen, about this time,
to the Presidency of Princeton College ; and it was still doubtful whether
he would accept the appointment. But, whatever his decision might be, —
whether he remained in Virginia or came to Princeton, — he wrote to Mr.
Marsh that he should probably be able to introduce him to a situation,
either as a teacher or an editor. With this encouragement, Mr. Marsh set
out on his journey to the South ; and. on his arrival at Richmond, found
that Dr. Rice had only so far recovered from a very serious illness, as to be
able with difficulty to make his way into the pulpit. He spent several weeks
in the Doctor's family, and, at length, by his advice and under his auspices,
went to Hampden Sydney, without, however, having so definite a course
before him as he could have wished. Here he taught a few Hebrew scho-
lars, and preached occasionally, expecting that Dr. Rice would establish a
Theological Seminary there, and that, in that case, he would have occasion
for his services, as an assistant Professor. There was so much of uncer-
tainty, however, attending the project, and he was so little satisfied with
the result of his efforts in the pulpit, that he resolved to return to New
England ; and, accordingly, he reached home sometime in May, 1823. It
was his wish to become the editor of the Christian Spectator ; but his
application for the place was unsuccessful. Meanwhile, Dr. Rice, having
matured his plan in respect to a Theological School, and having come North
to recruit his health, wrote to him, requesting that he would meet him at
Albany, that they might enter into some definite arrangement in regard to
his becoming an instructor in the new Seminary. He hastened to comply
with his request, and the result of the interview was, that he engaged to
return to Virginia, and to divide his services, at least for some time,
JAMES MARSH.
695
between the Theological School and the College. After visiting some of
his friends in different parts of New England, he took passage at Boston
for Norfolk, where he arrived safely about the last of November.
In due time, he entered upon his duties at Hampden Sydney, where he
found things, in most respects, much to his mind. His particular employ-
ment, in connection with both the College and the Theological School, was
the teaching of languages ; though he had no intention of confining himself
within so narrow a sphere. His heart was much set upon the firm estab-
lishment of the Theological Institution on the most liberal evangelical basis ;
and he expected to be ultimately connected with it, as Professor of Oriental
languages. But, as the funds were not yet adequate to the full support of
a Professor in that department, he was desired to remain, for a time, on a
s«omewhat different footing, which, however, would secure to him the means
of a comfortable living. Accordingly, in the summer of 1824, he returned
by a somewhat circuitous route to New England, to make ultimate arrange-
ments for becoming a resident of Virginia.
Shortly after he arrived among his friends at the North, he received
notice that he was appointed to a Professorship in Hampden Sydney Col-
lege. Ho received ordination to the office of a Christian minister, at Hano-
ver, N. H., on the 12th of October. Two days after, he was married to
Lucia, daughter of John Wheelock, of Hanover, after an engagement of
several years standing. Immediately he set out with his wife for their new
home, which they reached on the 80th of the same month. He entered
upon the duties of his Professorship in the College with alacrity and vigour,
while yet he was not inattentive to the other duties which devolved upon
him in connection with the Theological Seminary.
Having been connected with Hampden Sydney College, from first to last,
about three years, during which time his influence in elevating the tone of
classical learning had been deeply felt, he was appointed, in October, 1826,
President of the University of Vermont. He had been thought of as a
suitable person for that place, and had even been consulted in respect to it,
as early as 1821, while he was yet a student in the Seminary at Andover ;
but he was not then disposed to listen to the suggestion. The circumstan-
ces of the case, however, were now considerably changed; and, notwith-
standing the College was still, in some respects, greatly depressed, he
thought it his duty to accept the appointment, and do what he could to
elevate it. In entering upon his ofl&ce, he introduced some important meas-
ures of reform in regard to both discipline and instruction.
Early in the year 1828, he was visited with a sore domestic bereavement.
His wife, — a lady of fine accomplishments and great excellence, became
seriously ill, and her disease at length took the form of a settled decline,
and resulted in her death on the 18th of August. Though it seemed to
him like the blasting of all his earthly hopes, he evinced great Christian
composure under the rod, and was enabled to feel that it was good for him to
be afflicted.
After he had recovered from the shock occasioned by this bereavement,
he returned to the vigorous prosecution of his studies, and the next year of
his life was one of uncommon activity. About this time, he wrote his Pre-
liminary Essay to Coleridge's "Aids to Beflection," which excited great
attention on both sides of the Atlantic ; and this was followed almost
immediately by the first volume of " Selections from the old English writers
596 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
on Practical Theology;" — a work which, however, did not meet with suffi-
cient encouragement to justify the issuing of a second volume. The only
other publications of Dr. Marsh during his life time, except what appeared
in periodicals, were his Inaugural Address at Burlington, a Short Treatise
on Eloquence, the Translation of Herder's work on Hebrew poetry, and
Hegewisch's Chronology. In 1830, he received the degree of Doctor of
Divinity from Columbia College, New York; and in 1833, Amherst Col-
lege conferred upon him the same honour.
On the 7th of January, 1835, he was married to Laura Wheelock, a
sister of his former wife. This connection, like the preceding, proved a
source of great comfort to him.
In 1833, a crisis having arrived in the affairs of tho College, which
required great skill and energy in the management of pecuniary concerns,
and Dr. Marsh having never felt himself much at home in this department,
and having long wished to become disconnected from it altogether, that he
might devote himself exclusively to more congenial pursuits, resolved to
retire from the Presidency, and accordingly tendered his resignation. He,
however, accepted the chair of Intellectual and Moral Philosophy, which
he continued to occupy till the close of life.
In the year 1836. there was a vigorous movement in Vermont, in favour
of what were popularly called " the new measures," and those too of an
extreme kind, in connection with revivals of religion. Dr. Marsh saw
nothing in it but evil, and exerted himself to the utmost, and at the expense
of being often denounced as an enemy of revivals, to resist its progress.
His efforts produced no inconsiderable effect, and at no very distant period,
the mass of the Christian community reposed in the same view which he
had so strenuously and ably maintained.
In August, 1838, he was bereaved of his second wife. She died after a
decline of several months, just ten years, within twenty hours, from the
death of his former wife. In consequence of this event, in connection with
some pecuniary embarrassments, he found himself under the painful neces-
sity of disposing of his house and seeing his family broken up.
Dr. Marsh's physical constitution was never very robust. Several years
before his death, he had an attack of hemorrhage of the lungs, from which,
however, he quickly recovered, and afterwards enjoyed his usual health.
In the winter of 1841-42, he had a recurrence of the same complaint,
which proved the forerunner of his dissolution. For a while, he indulged a
feeble hope that he might be able to travel South to avail himself of a
milder climate ; but this hope the rapid progress of his disease soon com-
pelled him to abandon. During his whole illness, he was favouyed with
great tranquillity and a most joyful trust in his Redeemer ; and those who
visited him, felt that it was a privilege to mark the strong heavenly tenden-
cies of his almost disenthralled spirit. He died on Sunday morning, July
3, 1842, at the house of his brother-in-law, David Reed, in Colchester, Vt.,
in the forty-eighth year of his age. His funeral sermon was preached by
the Rev. Dr. Wheeler, his successor in the Presidency of the University
of Vermont, and was published.
Dr. Marsh had three children, — all of them sons, — two by the first mar-
riage, and one by the second. The two former have been graduated at the
University of Vermont.
JAMES MARSH. 697
The year after Dr. Marsh's death, there appeared a large octavo volume
consisting of selections from his writings, and a most interesting Memoir of
his life, by Professor Torrey, which passed to a second edition in 1845.
FROM THE REV. JOSEPH TORREY, D D.
PROFESSOR IN THE UNIVERSITY OF VERMONT.
Burlington, August 7, 1848.
Rev. and dear Sir: My acquaintance with James Marsh began early: I knew
him slightly before he entered College, while he was pursuing, for a short time,
his preparatory studies, under Preceptor Perry at Moor's charity school in
Hanover. A tall and active lad, he was conspicuous for his skill and address in
all the sports then customary on College Green. During the revival of religion
at Dartmouth College in the year 1815, we became better acquainted. I well
remember the first time calling at his room, after having been informed of the
change he had experienced in his religious feelings. What passed between us I
have now forgotten, except a single incident; which was, that, in the course of
our conversation, to confirm some point of religious experience, he took up a folio
volume of Flavel's works, and turned to several passages with which he seemed
to be familiar, dwelling, with much earnestness, on the beauty of the thoughts
and aptness of the illustrations. I was struck with what then seemed to me the
singular taste he manifested, in preferring these old fashioned Divines to writers
of a more modern date.
He exhibited, in these early days, to an uncommon degree, the same elements
of character, which were afterwards so finely developed by him. Great simpli-
city, great integrity of mind, and singleness of purpose, were the master traits.
In these points he was certainly distinguished above all others of his own age and
standing. As a companion indeed he might have been accounted rather shy and
reserved; and perhaps there was some truth in what he once humourously
remarked of himself, that " in gibes and flashes of merriment, he was unproduc-
tive as the sli:ull of poor Yorick." But there was no mistaking the ingenuous
simplicity of his character, which gained him many friends, and left him without
a single enemy.
One thing deserves to be remarked; a grand idea of the object to be aimed at
in an education seems to have possessed him from the first; and it was in his
college days he drew the ample outlines of that course of studies to which
he afterwards so inflexibly adhered. His plan was a singularly bold one,
evincing, to say the least, great courage, as well as comprehension of mind; for
it contemplated the equal and hai'monious culture, by all the means in his power,
of every part of his nature, without leaving a single tendency or striving of it
neglected. Had it been his object to push his fortunes in life or to shape himself
for a particular profession, he would doubtless have given more weight to the
objections of some of his friends, who endeavoured to persuade him that he had
undertaken too much and would accomplish little. But nothing could convince
him that the man was not of more importance than his profession, and the inhe-
rent claims of the mind itself too serious to be subordinated to the highest of
outward ends. In truth, he possessed, beyond any person of his age whom I
knew, that reverence for himself, which as our Milton has it, " next to the love
of God, may be thought as the radical moisture and fountain-head, whence every
laudable and worthy enterprise issues forth."
As he could never be induced to sacrifice one part of his nature to another, so
he possessed, in no common degree, a healthy, well balanced mind. He was
neither a man of impulses nor a worshipper of abstractions. While he reve
rently heeded the deeper instincts of his nature and carefully cherished every
stirring of religious aflection, he was, at the same time, impatient of being
Vol. II. 88
(398 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
governed by feelings, which had not first been interpreted and justified to the
eye of reason. On the other liand, he was ever suspicious of the worlcings of
the understanding, where there was no heart at bottom; and quickly discarded
its conclusions, however seemingly logical, if they contradicted his deeper sense
of the right and befitting in a moral point of view. What Dr. Arnold said of
Coleridge, would, as it seems to me, equally apply to the subject of the.>e
remarks — " Truth presented herself to him, not negatively, as she does to many
mmds, who can see that the objections to her are unfounded, and therefore that
she is to be received; but she filled him, as it were, heart and mind, imbuing liim
with her very self, so that all his being comprehended her fully and loved hur
ardently."
This inward integrity which acted in him as an instinct, but which was firmly
grounded in religious principle, gave the tone to every thing else; — to the charac-
ter of his piety, to his fine social qualities, to his taste as a scholar, and hi^
whole intellectual activity as a theologian and philosopher.
His piety was of the calm and quiet sort, without much pretension; too deeply
seated indeed for display. It rather shunned than courted the notice of the
world, exhibiting its genuineness and vitality in undoubted fi'uits; for his many
virtues bore all of them pre-eminently the Christian stamp. Of his own per-
sonal experience in religion, he seldom spoke; but it was evident that his reserve
proceeded neither from barrenness nor affectation, but grew out of the native
modesty and retiredness of his disposition. Nor did he ever manifest the
fervour or impassioned zeal, which is sometimes considered the only sure indi-
cation of deep religious feeling. All this was foreign from his nature, and what
it would have been impossible for such a man to assume. He was content with
the meeker graces which suited his peculiar temperament, and which could bear
to remain unobserved. But how thoroughly he was imbued with the Christian
spirit, how completely it pervaded his whole life, chastening still more the sweet
simplicity of his manners, and throwing a mild but constant radiance over all
the path he walked, they can well testify who knew him best.
In the better qualities which render a man prized and beloved in social life,
Mr. Marsh had few superiors. Sincerity and kindliness of feeling, combined with
a natural refinement of manners, made his society courted by the good and
intelligent every where. Amiable and affectionate in his family, generous almost
to a fault to his friends, easily accessible and courteous to strangers, he was all
this, without the least affectation. His conversation was marked by habitual
good sense, and a delicate regard to the feelings of the society he was in. Can-
did and simple in uttering his convictions, he was equally so in expressing his
doubts, except to those upon whom his convictions and doubts would have been
alike thrown away. His own sincerity made him extremely sensitive to any
thing like duplicity in others, which he considered the most unpardonable of all
faults in men who pretended to be holding intercourse with one another. His
keenness in detecting it, as well as the scorn with which he spoke of it, showed
how harshly it grated on the tone of his own inmost being. " You never know a
man of this stamp" — said he — "in any other respect than just the extent of his art,
which has as little to do with his real character, as the colour of his coat." He
was slow in learning the lesson of cautious prudence, which his first intercourse
with the world taught him the necessity of practising.
His talent for conversation, which was never used by him for display, and
which had to be called forth in the society and on the subjects he liked, in
order to be witnessed at all, was extraordinary, if not for the brilliancy, yet for
the depth and large scope of the thoughts, and the clear logical method in which
ihey seemed spontaneously to arrange themselves in their very utterance. In
the use of language he had habituated himself to the most philosophical precision;
and if any one was ever at a loss to know what he meant, it only argued his
1
JAMES MAKSH. 699
own ignorance of the matter in discussion. Enlivened by good humour and an
occasional touch of innocent raillery, his conversation, on ordinary occasions,
exhibited the purity of his sentiments and keenness of his perceptions. But
when his mind was wrought up by a deep interest in the subject, his manner was
grave and deliberate, his tones low and earnest, his words few and well chosen,
while the thoughts moving on, without break or hesitancy, in a calm and equable
How, evinced, by the conviction they carried with them, the depth from which
tliey had been drawn, and that they were any thing, rather than the idle specu-
lations of a mere logical understanding.
His talent for conversation he had thought it worth his while, in early life, to
cultivate; and the following rule for attaining this and other mental accomplish-
ments, which I find in one of his letters, while a student, may be fitly introduced
here, not so much on its own account, as because it is so characteristic of the
man. " I can never do any thing efficiently," says he — " any longer than I have
an object in view so elevated, as to seem worthy of my exertions. The first
thing then, is to fill my mind with the view of what I am aiming at, and keep it
constantly before me. When my feelings are thus interested lean engage in any
labour with pleasure and profit. So if improvement in conversation be my
object, I do not merely look at the end to be obtained by it, as reputation, &c.,
but endeavour to form an ideal standard or model of the thing in itself, — to con-
ceive of a style of conversation, in the highest degree elegant, polished, and com-
manding, and contemplate it, till my desires are eager for its attainment. When
! have done this, my idea of the thing will be my best guide to the most success-
ful mode of acquiring it. In the next place, Avhen I so understand the object,
and have my feelings interested, I suffer my feeUngs to guide me without much
regard to artificial rules. The mind must act freely and without restraint, in
order to act efficiently."
Dr. ;Marsh had a natural fondness for the society of young men; and his inter-
est in them, as usually happens, strongly attached them to him. All his pupils
were, or became, I may say without exception, his personal friends. His whole
intercourse with them, was, in the highest degree, friendly and parental. The
least kindling of enthusiasm in a young mind was sure to catch his observant
eye, and to be wisely guided by him in the right direction and to a noble end.
lie detested the system of authority, which had no other way to sustain itself
than by breaking dow«, as he expressed it, all the independent spirit and love of
study "for its own sake. In the youth he reverenced the man, and by treating
him as such, made him conscious that he was one. Delinquents saw that, in
dealing with them, he did not aim to build up his own authority, by making them
humble and obsequious. The unaffected sincerity of his advice carried it home
to the heart; and he insured obedience by making himself loved.
Few young men, not already thoroughly corrupted, ever came under his influ-
ence, without feeling they were made better by it; while many fondly ascribe to
it the decisive turn which determined their character and fortunes for life. His
instructions had the peculiar power of not only making a deep impression for the
moment, bat of clinging with unwonted tenacity to the young minds that received
them. Many I know who left College apparently without religion, could never
get rid of the impressions there received from him, till they eventuated in their
thorough conversion. I have before me the letter of one of these, — a young man
now abroad, — which gives an account of his own experience in this respect, and
it was that of many others. Speaking of his Senior year in College, he says,
"It was then my lot to become subject to the instructions and other personal
influences of one of the holiest philosophers of this day and generation— I refer
to the late Dr. Marsh,— a man distinguished alike for depth and clearness of
intellect, and for the purity and Christian nobleness of his heart. He walked
like one who held communion with his God, and in his presence I could not bu«
YQO TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
feel how awful, and yet how lovely, goodness is. Ilis instructions were no mystic
formulas, no idle generalities, — but great vital principles, implanted deep within,
and winding their roots around the innermost fibres of the spiritual being. The
solemnity of life, the sanctity of duty, the divinity and the supremacy of con-
science, the perversitj'' and corruption of the natural will, the authorit}' of reason,
and the yet higher dignity of faith, the immutability and the inherent binding
power of right, the majesty of law, the malignity of sin, man's estrangement
from his Maker, and his need of Christ as a Mediator and Saviour — these and
other kindred truths were pressed upon our souls with a force, which no sophis-
try could elude, almost no obduracy resist. The whole tendency of Dr. Marsh's
teachings and personal example was to excite deep, earnest thoughtfulness. I
both clearly saw and strongly felt that his doctrines, if true, were truths of
transcendent moment, — things in which I had a vital personal interest." He
then goes on to describe how the earnest spirit he had thus contracted, never
left him, till finally his sense of sinfulness and need, prostrated him at the foot
of the Cross, and he found peace in believing.
Dr. Marsh was as thorough a scholar, as earnest and patient labour, with rare
parts directed towards a lofty ideal, can make one. From humble beginnings,
with little either of direction or encouragement from without, he was mostly
a self-made man — guided and cheered by the whisperings of his own hopes, he
laboured on till he had acquired a good knowledge of the ancient and several
modern languages, and then till he had made himself acquainted with the master
spirits in the literature of every age. Without any decided leaning to philolo-
gical pursuits, he studied the classical languages of antiquity with conscientious
diligence, and his scholarship was profound and accurate. But his chief interest
was in the sentiments and thoughts of the authors he read. Nor was his read-
ing confined to one class of authors only, but extended over a wide range, includ-
ing the best in everj'- department. If later in life he showed a preference for the
philosophers, particularly Plato and Aristotle, which were constantly on his
table; yet it was not so at the beginning, when the historians and the poets were
perhaps his more special favourites. At this time he was fond to enthusiasm of
literary criticism. It was to gratify his thirst for these studies that, soon after
his return to the Theological School at Andover in 1821, he went to Cambridge
with a view to avail himself of the lectures, as well as to luxuriate in the library
— so rich and select in that branch of learning — of his friend Professor Ticknor.
But his own good sense soon led him to see the propriety and importance of
devoting himself with a more single purpose to his professional studies; and
though he never lost sight of his favourite object, no one could say it diverted
him bej'^ond due measure from more serious pursuits.
Theology led liim to philosophy. In the study of the former he took the pro-
found interest which might be expected from a mind constituted like his : it
opened to him a new world of thought, or one which he had hitherto but imper-
fectly explored ; and the greatest questions, — such as defy the power of mere logic
to resolve, were presented before him. Perhaps the school of literature had
prepared him to look at them with a wider grasp of their bearings than he other-
wise would have done. At any rate it must be fairly acknowledged, that he did
not feel entirely satisfied in his own mind with the course of reasoning by which
it was then sought to establish several of the more important doctrines of Chris-
tianiiy. But it should be remembered it was with the explanations, not with the
doctrines themselves, that he was disposed to find fault. He thought the Theo-
logy of the day savoured too much of a sensual philosophy, and betra3^ed too much
an effort, which must necessarily defeat its own purpose, of comprehending
spiritual things, by reducing them to the forms and conditions of a wholly incom-
mensurate faculty. If he must choose between his religion and his philosophy,
he preferred a thousand times the former. But he saw no necessity of making
JAMES MARSH. 701
such a choice, inasmuch as true religion and true philosophy must go together.
It only remained for him, therefore, to reject that philosophy as false, which he
felt to be incompatible with that religion which he knew in his own deepest
experience to be true. If he was a heretic in philosophy, he was the farthest
possible from being one in religion. He rejected no doctrine which the universal
body of the Church has ever held.
It has been common to regard Dr. Marsh, as a mere disciple of Coleridge.
But the truth is, he neither derived his opinions originally from that writer, nor
did he strongly resemble him in anj^ one point of character, except in the ardent
love of truth. That he admired him for his great and various powers, and ven-
erated him as a Christian philosopher, is most true; but that he made him
a standard authority on all subjects, and particularly on all points of religious
doctrine, or servilely followed him in any thing, is neither true in point of fact,
nor apparent from any thing he ever said or wrote.
The philosophy of Dr. Marsh was, as much as that of any man can be, of
home growth, the result of his own reflection, the product of a deeply meditative
mind. If he was indebted to others, as who is not .'' — he was indebted to them
rather for awakening the activity of his own thoughts, than for the immediate
infusion of their opinions. He was too honest to himself to be the follower of
any school but that of Christ. Had he lived to complete what he had begun,
this would have been more clearly seen. Instead of calling him the disciple of
any one, we should, I confidently believe, have hailed him as an original thinker,
thoroughly acquainted with the great want of our age and of our own particular
country, and better qualified to supply that want than any other man who has
yet appeared.
Dr. Marsh was not a mere man of the closet, but took a lively interest in all
the great questions of the day. His eye was out upon every movement in the
literary, political, and religious worlds, and was quick to discern its charaicter
and tendency. The ready ease with which he scanned such movements, showed
the life-like practical character of his knowledge. If any of these questions came
by chance to agitate the public mind in the circle in which he moved, he was the
first man to stand forth. There was never any holding back with him, where
•great interests were concerned. He threw himself into the midst of the arena,
taking his stand at once and decidedly, where he could be seen and read of all
men. As a man of principle, he had a rock-like firmness; you felt that you
could rely on him and that the truth was safe in his hands.
Perhaps you may expect that I would say a word of him as a preacher. With
the truest idea of what constitutes the eloquence of the pulpit, he never either
hoped or seriously exerted himself to realize it. Natural defects which he con-
sidered it beyond his power to remedy, unfitted him for this sphere of labour.
His voice was feeble and tremulous; his appearance diffident, almost to timidity,
and his whole manner stiff" from the sense of constraint. There was indeed
about his look, that which Washington Allston so beautifully expressed, when
he said of him, " He carried a character in his face not to be mistaken — in which,
except in one instance, I never saw so legibly written the peace of God." But
the majority who are less taken by true intellectual and moral expression, would
perhaps be more inclined to judge of him as some did of the Apostle of old —
" his bodily presence is weak and his speech contemptible." I have heard him,
however, when he evidently produced on his audience the greatest effect of elo-
quence,— if that effect is to make the speaker forgotten in the greatness and
majesty of his thoughts.
Yours very truly,
J. TORREY.
'J-Q2 TlilXITARlAN CONGREGATIONAL.
FROM THE REV. JOHN WHEELER, D. D..
PRESIDENT OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VERMONT.
Burlington, Vt., July 28, 1856.
Dear Sir : The difficulty of complying with your request to write a letter of
recollections of the late James Marsh, D. D., consists in the utter impossibility
of giving, within such limits, any adequate impression of my own views of his
character. And as you have said you are indebted to another person for an
anal^^sis of his intellectual character, I hardly know what to sa}'.
For more than thirty years, he was first my acquaintance, then my intimate
friend, my fellow student, and finally fellow labourer in the duties of active
life. I was intimate with him at Dartmouth College, at the Theological Semi-
nary at Andover, at his father's at Hartford, and specially as colleague in the
University of Vermont.
Physically he was a man of large size. He was six feet and more in height-
But while of commanding stature, he made no impression of predominant stal-
wart energy. An air of refinement and of self-relying benevolence invited every
one to confide in him, but forbade any one from trifling with him. His face
inclined to be round, rather than long and angular, with a high projecting fore-
head, with the " ridge of thought " surprisingly developed. He was of light
complexion, of regular features, and of most benign aspect. He had none of
the querulousness or presuming earnestness which sometimes attends men of
small stature, and none of that rigid inflexibility of manner, which is occasion-
ally manifest in men of great physical strength. To the eye of an intimate
friend there was almost a womanly grace in the benignity, that shed all about
him an air of love and good-will. It was Washington Allston, I think, who
once said, " he had, in his face, more of the meekness of wisdom, than any man
he ever saw." His conversational powers were not remarkable, except for the
the very uncommon intellectual method in which every topic seemed to arrange
itself, the moment he began to speak of it; and for the affectionate and truthful
temper, which was breathed through it, and also for the purity, the elegance,
and the fulness of his diction. There was too much stateliness and gravity im
the man to be fanciful in his language, or to indulge in common witticisms in his
conversation. He was very instructive in all that he said, and not unfrequently
exhibited a ^jlay fulness that was highly entertaining.
A few days before his death, as his sickness was spoken of in a stage coach, a
woman of humble condition inquired, "Do you mean Professor Marsh of Bur-
lington .'" " Yes." " When he dies a great good man will leave us." " Did
you know him ?" " Yes, I was bringing two motherless grandchildren, in the
stage, from St. Albans, in April; and the roads were horrible. The horses walked
all the way, and the children were tired and cried, and don't you think. Dr.
Marsh made the driver stop; and he got out, took the children out, and walked
on with them, bj' the road-side, showing them stones, and plucking little flowers
for them, and talking with them, by the way. They were refreshed and per-
fectly delighted, and said he was the kindest and best man in the world. And
to think he should have done all this for two poor, strange, orphan children!
Ah! he was a good man, and so kind. I shall never forget him." It was like
him. His mind and heart were full of beauty and of benevolence. He loved to
sit down with young ladies, and inquire into their studies, their reading, think-
ing, &c.; and when he understood their minds, he would surprise them with the
fulness of his knowledge of their purest wishes in regard to their growth in
intelligence and goodness, and then he would point out what they should read,
and specially hoio they should read, and how all this was connected with their
progress in goodness and worth, until they listened, as to the utterance of a
Divine wisdom. The affiectionate but unobtrusive confidence and the quick
JAMES MARSH. 703
sparkling thoughts of some of his female friends al'n^ays opened the richest foun-
tains of his thoughts; and then he delighted to unfold, in the most simple and
spontaneous waj's, those emotions of moral and intellectual beauty, which are
seen in the best poetry, the best paintings, and every wherein the fields of litera-
ture, so that to his listener they would seem familiar as " household words," to
be loved, and admired, and imitated. His love of the affectionate and the beau-
tiful was ever present in all his acquisitions a,nd in all his labours.
On one occasion, he came into a room, said a pupil, where four of us were
playing whist, and two were looking on. lie sat down and paused a moment,
and then said, " Young gentlemen, I will not insult jou by the supposition that
you are playing for money, but you are wasting your time very unwisely. You
are not here for such purposes. Your intellectual and moral growth are not
advanced thereby; nor is your manliness or your scholarship increased; nor
is your character, in any way, elevated. Your recollections of your Col-
lege life are to be among the most precious things of your future existence.
Such practices will not make them delightful. I shall adopt no system of
espionage to find out your habits in this respect, but I shall expect that your
college life will not be marred by such hereafter." I do not believe, said the
pupil, that one of us touched a card again while in College. He did no' like to
censure — it awakened in his own bosom a sad, unpleasant feeling; but he loved,
as do all good and great men, to commend and to praise. In a most kind and
gladsome way, he would speak to any one, whom he had seen, of the happy
manner in which he had acquitted himself in public or private: and, by his dis-
criminating praise, would seem to open a wider vision of intellectual beauty or
of moral grandeur, than had been conceived of by the speaker or writer.
His reverence for spiritual things was of the most profound, not to say, awful,
character. It was, however, as surprisingly rational, intelligent, and discrimi-
nating, as it was profound. There was not the slightest tendency to superstitious
feeling, or the substitution of regard for outward forms and appearances, for
humility of spirit and intelligent thoughts. In his deepest meditations, in his
most elevated conceptions, and in his most common religious habits, he was
ever watchful lest the outward and temporal should usurp the place of spiritual
truth. In public addresses, and specially in preaching, he approached his sub-
ject and his audience with such reverence, as to be filled with tremulous awe.
His wliole frame expressed this, by a reluctant shyness, an unsteady position,
and by reserved and hesitating tones. This riveted the attention of the audi-
ence to listen to that, which the speaker himself seemed to be in awe of. Those,
who entered into the subject, found their attention immediately fixed; and they
were only fearful that a word or sentence might be lost, which would break that
current of earnest and instructive thought, which came pouring forth, as from a
hidden sea of knowledge. It was not until progress had been made in unfold-
ing the subject, and his mind was possessed of its strong points, that Dr. Marsh
rose to that clear utterance of thought that charmed his audience. On some
subjects, there was manifest a kind of contest between his logic and his imagina-
tion, which, in their antagonistic play, alternately commanded the conviction and
the admiration of his audience. Public speaking to promiscuous assemblies was
not agreeable to him. His thoughts were cast in such philosophic form, that care-
ful attention was required from his hearers to appreciate them, and while, to
reflecting and thinking minds, he was among the most instructive and delightful
speakers, he Avas not specially popular with the public at large.
There was nothing of that acerbity of character in Dr. M., which is often
ascribed to men of strong intellect, nothing of that severity, which is usually
connected with close logical thinking, and nothing of that unsympathizing tem-
per, which pertains to a recluse; but his mind, and heart, and hand were always
open to all the wants of humanity; and he was ever ready to minister of his
704 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ability to them all. His " Kemains " attest his power as a profound and
original thinker, and the loss which our rising literature may have sustained in
his unexpected death; but none, except those who were personally conversant
with him. can tell how much social and academic life lost of beauty, of harmony,
and of elevating grace, when he departed from us. " The savour of his example,"
as I have said elsewhere, " and the atmosphere of his affectionate life, still linger
here, like the mellow radiance of the Zodaical light, as it streams up and spreads
itself over the Western sky." That his mantle may ever rest here is the prayer
of Sincerely,
Your most affectionate friend and brother,
JOHN WHEELER.
CHESTER ISHAM.
1823—1825.
FROM THE REV. LEONARD BACON, D. D.
New Haven, 7 July, 1856.
Dear Sir : You ask me for some personal reminiscences concerning an
early and intimate friend of mine, the Rev. Chester Ishani. It is more
than thirty years since I was a mourner at his funeral, but with the aid of
some memorials which I made not long afterwards, I can recall, vividly to
myself, particulars that might otherwise have faded from my memory. For
three years in College and three in the Theological Seminary we were room-
mates ; and I can never forget his slender figure, a little taller than the
average height ; his clear blue eye ; his brown hair ; his countenance, more
interesting in its expression than regular in its features ; or the flush upon
his cheek. His vivacity and humour, his native frankness and the simpli-
city of his manners, are no less deeply impressed upon my memory.
My acquaintance with him began in the summer of 1813 ; when, at the
age of fifteen, he entered the Latin Grammar School in Hartford, his native
place, without any definite plan, and with no distinct expectation, save to
gratify for a few months an ardent desire of study. , He was surrounded
by boys, most of whom, though his inferiors in age, were his superiors in
scholastic attainments.
It soon became evident to his instructer and to his competitors, that he
was not to be overlooked or undervalued. His intense application evinced
a resolute spirit, while the rapidity of his attainments made it manifest that
his mental activity was equal to his industry.
In the winter following he became the subject of distinct religious
impressions. The instructions of a pious mother had imbued his mind with
Christian knowledge ; and an incidental question from a stranger excited
him to thought, to alarm, to long inquiry. The impressions which he received
at this time, had ever after a visible influence on his character.
I ascertained soon after I began to know him, that the ardent desire of
knowledge which had brought him to the school, had become a settled deter-
mination to make the highest possible attainments. He had no resources ;
his circumstances were such as made the privileges of a College unattaina-
ble except to resolution and perseverance such as his.
CHESTER ISHAM. 7()5
He became a member of Yale College in the autumn of 1816. Here he imme-
diately took that high rank in his class which those who knew him expected he
would attain. In the severer studies of College, in the recitations of every
sort, he was acknowledged to be eminent. For this eminence his prepara-
tory studies and his habits of application had fitted him. But in all exercises
of elocution and composition, his inferiority was so manifest that his class-
mates generally regarded him as one of those men, who, though by dint of
application they carry the highest honours of College, turn out at last to
have but little activity of intellect.
To gain the highest honours was at that time his chief aspiration ; and he
applied himself to study with a diligence which resulted in improvement as
general as it was rapid. The culture which his mind received in the process
of studying his lessons — for at that period of his education he studied
nothing else, read nothing else — became visible, not only in the recitations,
but in all the exercises to which ho was called.
In March and April, 1818, there was in College, not a revival of religion,
but an unusual seriousness, and several cases of inquiry and hopeful conver-
sion. At that time the impressions, which Mr. Isham had received at an early
period were revived, and he was brought, as he trusted, to the knowledge
of Him "whom to know is life eternal." From that time his views and
hopes and purposes were changed. The change was the commencement of
a new principle within him, urging him forward in a new career of improve-
ment.
Having formed the purpose of devoting himself to the service of the
church and of the Redeemer in the work of the ministry, he was received
as a beneficiary of the Connecticut Education Society, under whose patron-
age he continued till the completion of his academic course. For three
months in the third year of his college life he was employed in teaching the
Academy at New Canaan, Conn., where he gave such satisfaction to the
Trustees of that institution, that when he left College he was most earnestly
solicited to become its permanent preceptor. It was while thus employed,
if I remember rightly, that he first attempted to address a religious
assembly.
The last year of his residence at College afforded him more leisure, than
he had before enjoyed, from the severe study which the regulations of the
institution demanded. He turned his attention to the cultivation of his taste,
and to the improvement of his powers of composition and delivery, with a
success which astonished all who had known him only superficially. He
began now to look forward to the labours of the pulpit, with more distinct
impressions ; and he resolved to do his utmost towards becoming eminent
in qualifications for the work to which he aspired. He requested the advice
of his instructers and of his most judicious friends respecting the best means
of forming his taste and style ; and having determined on his course of
effort, he followed it up so successfully that when the result of his applica-
tion came to be seen in the usual exhibition of the graduating class at
Commencement, he who had been but little thought of among his class-
mates as a writer or a speaker, stood among the foremost in the estimation
uf the audience. He received his degree as Bachelor of Arts in Septem-
ber, 1820.
In the November following, he became a member of the Theological Semi-
nary at Andover.
Vol. II. 89
706 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
In his new stu lies he engage! with his characteristic ardour and his
wonted success. He was not — as was sometimes the case with young men
of studious habits and of ardent character, when they came under the
instructions of the distinguished Professor of sacred literature in that
institution — carried away into an enthusiastic chase after the abstrusities of
biblical learning ; but he looked forward to the business of preaching, and
with that in view, he pursued just those studies and just in that proportion
which seemed to his judgment best calculated to make him, as he was wont
at that time often to say, "an eloquent man and mighty in the scriptures."
To accomplish himself in elocution, to form a style that should be both
graceful and effective, to inform his mind with whatever might help him to
understand the Bible, he spared no pains. Preaching was now the con-
stant object of his efforts, and almost the constant subject of his thoughts.
One vacation in each of the three years which he devoted to theological
studies, he spent with some friend in the ministry, in labours as useful to
others as they were improving to himself. There is no part of a young
man's preparation for the pastoral office more important than the habit of
speaking extempore on religious subjects. Of this Mr. Isham felt a deep
conviction, and he therefore esteemed it a high advantage to labour for a few
weeks where his services might be useful. Beside this, the opportunity for
becoming acquainted with pastoral labours and with the routine of parochial
duty, which was afforded by residing in the family of a pastor actively
engaged in the labours of his office, was a privilege which he highly
valued.
Two or three months before completing his studies, he received and
accepted an invitation to preach for a few Sabbaths to the Trinitarian church
and society then recently established in Taunton. Soon after leaving Ando-
ver, he went to comply with this engagement. The consequence was that,
after a short probation, he received from that church and society a unani-
mous call to become their pastor. This call he accepted ; and on the 18th
of February, 1824, he was ordained to the work of the gospel ministry.
A few week after his ordination he was married to Miss Diana Compfock
of New Canaan, Conn.
It has already been stated that the church over which he was placed had
been but i-oceutly formed. It should be stated also, that the circumstances
in which it was formed, were such as to require, on the part of its pastor,
not only zeal for the truth, tempered and restrained by prudence, but much
solicitude and industry. For such a situation his temperament and habits
were well adapted. So long as I knew him, he was accustomed, whenever
he attempted any thing, to put forth all his strength. The principle which
some men act upon, of husbanding their strength for now and then an extra-
ordinary undertaking, was unknown to him, — at least in practice. But the
consequence was, that, as soon as he was placed in these new circumstances,
his constitution which was naturally feeble, and which had been debilitated
by study, proved unequal to the cares and duties which were laid upon him.
A short period of labour brought on the symptoms of the disease which
terminated his life.
In the month of September, the symptoms of consumption with which he
had been threatened for months, became so decided that there was little
hope of his surviving another New England winter. At the earnest solicit-
ation of his friends, he determined on a voyage to a warmer climate
CHESTER ISHAM. 7(37
Accordingly he left his family and his people, October 15tb, and the next
day embarked at Boston for Cuba.
The feeble hopes which his friends had entertained of his recovery were
somewhat strengthened by the first intelligence which was received after
his arrival at Matanzas. He had endured a long and unfavourable ^yage,
and all his most alarming symptoms were apparently relieved. But the
next intelligence brought discouragement.
After a few weeks, he left Cuba for Charleston, South Carolina, where he
arrived February 7th. He was immediately received into the family of the
Rev. Dr. Palmer, and treated with every attention which their kindness and
the kindness of Christians in that hospitable city could bestow.
Not many days afterwards he determined, with the consent of his friends
in Charleston, to return homeward, that he might die with his family and
bo buriod with his people. Accordingly, he embarked April 9th, with only
a feeble hope of living to the end of the voyage. The passage was unfa-
vourable ; and the friends who had "accompanied him to the ship," and
with many pi'ayers commended him to God, remarked to each other, as they
saw the stormy weather which succeeded his departure, that the object of
their solicitude would never behold the shores of his native New England.
But in this their fears were disappointed. He reached Boston April 19th.
The story of his arrival and of his dying moments, may be best given in a
few sentences copied from the sermon preached at his funeral by the Rev. B.
B. Wisner : —
" The vessel in which he embarked, arrived at Boston early in the morn-
ing of Tuesday last. I was soon informed of the circumstance and went
immediately on board. With what feelings I beheld him — emaciated, and
unable to raise himself from the pillow — you can better conceive than I can
tell. To an inquiry respecting his health, he answered that he was very
sick^ had suffered much since he saw me, and felt himself to be near his end.
I remarked that I hoped that while the outward man was wasting away, he
felt the inward man renewed day by day. He replied, he hoped it had been
so in some degree ; he had not constantly enjoyed the presence of God and
the consolations of his grace as he had wished ; but, on the whole, God had
been very good to him in this respect ; he had had more experience of that
goodness since he had been sick than ever before.
" Immediately after his removal to my house, about nine o'clock in the
morning, a physician was called, v.'ho, after examining his case, informed
me that nothing could be done for him Init to make him as comfortable as
possible while he remained. The medicine administered did not have the
desired efi'cct. He continued to suffer much and to decline rapidly.
" His feebleness was so great and his suiFering so constant, that his friends
conversed with him but little ; and his replies to the observations made
were necessarily very brief. Some of those which are recollected you
will doubtless be gratified with hearing.
" To one who remarked to him that we felt very thankful that he had
been spared to come among us again, he said, ' It is a great mercy, for which
I cannot be sufficiently thankful,' and expressed a desire that he might be
spared to return to his family and people. In the course of the day, a
neighbouring clergyman, with whom he was well acquainted, called to see
him ; and said, among other thhigs, that he hoped he now felt the importance
of the great truths of the Gospel which he had preached to others as much
7Qg TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
as when in health, and more, and that they were his support and consola-
tion. He replied, ' Yes ; they are my only ground of hope. They aro
precious truths.'
" On the morning of Wednesday, he said to one who assisted him in
changing his position, 'I shall die in some of these turnings.' It was
replied, 'It is a great trial of faith and patience to suffer as you do.' He
said. '0 yes, very great, very great. But I am willing to die.' It was
remarked, ' You are willing to live too, as long as God has any thing for you
to do or to suiFer here.' With a look of submission, he replied, '0 yes,
whatever He sees to be best.'
" AVhen his wife, who had been sent for the preceding day, had arrived
with her infant child, the person who went to inform him, asked if ho did
not fear he should be greatly agitated when she came. He said, he trusted
not: he had endeavoured to prepare himself for the interview, and thought
he could meet her with composure. He was enabled to do so. Soon after,
he said, ' This is the consummation of my wishes. Now I can say, as
Simeon did, Let thy servant depart in peace.'
"Between two and three o'clock in the afternoon, he said that he felt he
was sinking very fast. A person present said, ' What a blessed thing to
know that all these pains are only the roughnesses of the way that leads to
the world where there is no pain ; and how joyful the prospect of being
soon perfectly holy ! ' With an expression of countenance which indicated
that his feelings were in unison with the sentiment, he said, ' 0 yes.'
"About five o'clock, after having been necessarily absent for some time,
I asked him how he felt. He replied, with composure, and with great
solemnity, 'I feel that I am entering the dark valley.' I said, 'I hope the
great Shepherd is with you ; and that you feel his rod and his staff comfort-
ing you, so that you can say that you fear no evil.' He answered in the
affirmative. A little after this, he said to another person, ' I believe f am
dying.' It was replied, 'I think not now.' He asked, 'How then do you
account for this short breathing ? ' It was answered, ' You are very much
exhausted, and persons afflicted with your complaint often breathe very
short.' He quickly replied, in a manner which indicated that he feared
there was a design to conceal from him his real situation, — ' Just before death.'
' It was answered, ' If I thought you were dying, I would certainly tell
you so.' With this he seemed satisfied, and said, ' I shall not be here long ; '
adding, without the least appearance of discontent, 'I can't describe the
distress I feel."
" A few minutes before six o'clock, he requested to be raised in bed.
Soon after, he said, in a calm and very affecting tone, 'I am dying.' The
person upon whom he was leaning, on looking at his countenance, was con-
vinced that it was so. I was out of the room at the time and was imme-
diately called. As I entered and approached the bed, I heard him repeatinsr,
with difficulty, but with sufficient distinctness to be understood, the prayer
of Stephen, — 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit!' Calling him by name, I
enquired, ' Do you know me ? ' Looking up in a manner which indicated
that intelligence still remained, he answered ' Yes.' I asked, ' Do you feel
yourself to be dying?' Still looking at me in a manner which satisfied me
that he understood my questions and his answers, he said, ' Yes.' 'Do you
feel that your Saviour is present with you?' 'Yes.' 'Do you give your
soul into his hands, and feel that it is safe? ' 'Yes.'
CHESTER ISHAM. 709
"Within ten minutes after this, at twelve minutes past six o'clock, he
ceased to breathe, and his spirit, I trust, entered, satisfied with the Divine
likeness, into its everlasting rest."
His remains were removed to Taunton, where they were interred on the
following Sabbath. The funeral of a pastor is always a most impressive
solemnity; but this was attended with a peculiar impressiveness. It was
not merely that youthful hopes had been extinguished ; or that the fond
affections of a happy family had been destroyed ; or even that a church had
been bereaved of its pastor ; it was that the youth had been permitted to
endure the mortal agony among his friends ; that the dying husband had been
permitted once more to see his wife ; that the dying father had been permit-
ted for once, the first time and the last, to behold his child ; and that the
dying pastor's prayer, upon a distant shore, had been answered, and he had
come to sleep among his people and to rise with them at the resurrection of
the just. Yours truly,
LEONARD BACON.
NATHAN W. FISKE.^
1823—1847.
Nathan Welby Fiske was born in Weston, Mass., April 17, 1798.
His father, Nathan Fiske, was a farmer in good circumstances, and of
respectable standing in the community. His mother, who was the daughter
of the Hon. Isaac Stearns of Billerica, was an exemplary professor of reli-
gion. In his earliest years, he evinced more of mechanical taste than fond-
ness for books ; but he got all his lessons easily, and was a great favourite
with his teachers. Towards the close of his tenth year, he became pos-
sessed of a Latin Grammar, which he had nearly mastered before the cir-
cumstance was known to his father. For several years subsequent to this,
his father geems to have had no intention of giving him a collegiate educa-
tion; and it was not till the year previous to his entering College, that his
studies were directed with special reference to that end. Nearly the whole
of that year he was at school at Framingham.
In September, 1813, when he was fifteen years of age, he entered Dart-
mouth College. During his first year, according to his own account, he
was not particularly studious, but indulged freely in the frivolities and gaie-
ties incident to a naturally lively disposition, without, however, openly
infringing the laws of College or the rules of social decorum. At the close
of his Freshman year, his mind seemed to awake to a deeper sense of its
capabilities, and to a more earnest desire for high acquisitions and improve-
ments. And this change was quickly succeeded by another of a yet more
decisive character, which gave a new complexion to his subsequent life. In
the spring of 1815, Dartmouth College was visited by a powerful revival
of religion. Young Fiske, though he had had the benefit of excellent reli-
gious instruction from his mother, had little sympathy with the serious
• Life by Dr. Humphrey.
•j^j^O TRmiTARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
Bpirit which he saw diffusing itself over almost the entire community. He
even treated the whole subject with levity, and resolved that, whoever else
might yield to the prevailing influence, he would have manliness enough to
resist it. The time came, however, when he could hold out no longer; and,
after a season of protracted self-condemnation and fearful apprehension in
respect to the future, he reposed, as he believed, in the promises of the
Gospel to the repenting and trusting sinner. After taking what was deemed
suitable time to test his religious exercises, he made a public profession of
religion at Hanover, in connection with thirty-two others, on the 6th of
August, 1815. This change in his character evidently gave additional
intensity to his application to study ; and though he had never been an idle
scholar, he was, subsequently to this, an uncommonly diligent and success-
ful one. He was admitted to the Bachelor's degree at the Commencement
in 1817, on which occasion he received one of the highest honours in his
class.
On leaving College, he went to New Castle, Me., where he had engaged
to take charge of an Academy for a year. Having very creditably and
satisfactorily completed this engagement, he returned to Dartmouth College
in 1818 as Tutor, and continued in this relation, discharging his duties to
great acceptance, for two years. At the end of this period, he entered the
Theological Seminary at Andover, where he took the entire course of throe
years, being distinguished alike for success in the various departments of
study, and an exemplary Christian deportment.
Mr. Fiske, after completing his course at Andover, was invited to go to
Savannah, and spend a year among seamen and others not connected with
any organized Christian congregation. He accepted the invitation ; and,
having received ordination as an evangelist, sailed for Savannah, about the
first of November, 1823. He entered immediately upon his mission, but
he seems to have become quickly convinced that it was not afield of labour
best suited to his talents or his habits. The people whom he was called to
address, were generally extremely uncultivated, and were scarcely capable
of appreciating, or even understanding, his regular and well-digested dis-
courses. He, however, came gradually to accommodate himself to their
capacities, and the number who attended on his preaching constantly
increased, and his labours were evidently far from being in vain. During
his six months' residence in Savannah, he preached more than ninety ser-
mons, and made between three and four hundred visits.
In the early part of April, 1824, Mr. Fiske, while be was yet at Savan-
nah, was appointed to the Professorship of Mathematics and Natural Phi-
losophy in Middlebury College. A few days after, he received an invitation
from Concord, N. H., to supply the pulpit there, during the session of the
Legislature, which was to commence the last week in May. On the very
same day, he received a letter from the Prudential Committee of the Ame-
rican Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, inquiring whether he
would not consent to be appointed a missionary either to Palestine or to
China. These several appointments, coming in such quick succession, occa-
sioned him no small degree of embarrassment; though he ultimately
returned a negative answer to each of them. Soon after his return from
Savannah, he preached two or three Sabbaths at Concord, upon a renewal
of the invitation which he had previously received ; and was subsequently
invited to preach there as a candidate for settlement in the Congregational
NATHAN W. FISKE. 7|2
society which had then just been formed ; but, about the same time, he was
elected Professor of Languages and Rhetoric in the Amherst Collegiate
Institution, which was then petitioning for a College Charter. After con-
siderable perplexity as to the course of duty, he finally determined to accept
the appointment at Amherst, on condition, however, that his Professorship
should include only the languages. He signified his acceptance of the
place, and entered on its duties in the autumn of 1824.
In November, 1828, Professor Fiske was married to Deborah W., only
daughter of David Viual of Boston, — a lady of rare intellectual and moral
qualities, though of a frail and delicate bodily constitution. They had four
children, — two sous who died in infancy, and two daughters who survived
both their parents.
In the fall of 1834, he commenced a translation from the German of
Eschenberg's Manual of Classical Literature, which occupied him until
April, 1836. The work was received with great favour, and it soon reached
a second and third edition ; and the demand still increasing, it was then
stereotyped for a fourth edition, which was brought out, greatly improved
and enlarged, in 1843. This work seems to have been a favourite occupa-
tion with him, and his recorded reflections on the completion of it were
worthy of him alike as a scholar and a Christian.
The next year brought death to his dwelling, and overwhelmed him with
the most grievous domestic affliction. His beloved wife, who had for years
been the subject of a pulmonary complaint, died on the 21st of February.
1844. Notwithstanding she died in great peace, leaving him with the per-
fect confidence that she had passed into a glorious rest, his sensitive nature
seemed scarcely able to bear up under the burden that was thus laid upon
him. His own health, which had been afi'ected by protracted anxiety and
almost constant watchings around the sick bed of his wife, now seemed
likely entirely to give way. His family was soon broken up ; the two sur-
viving children went to reside with their relatives at a distance ; and the
house which had so long been to him the scene of the highest domestic com-
fort, was left to him desolate. Here he continued for some time alone, —
every object on which his eye rested, speaking to him of departed joys.
At length, however, he received a respectable family into his house, which
manifestly contributed to both his health and spirits. Nevertheless, hia
health was far from being confirrfied; and, in February, 1846, he expe-
rienced a very sudden and acute attack of bronchitis, from which the most
serious results quickly began to be anticipated. In the course of the sum-
mer, he was earnestly advised, by high medical authority, to break away at
once from his college labours, and try the effect of a voyage. He hesitated
to comply with this advice, only from an apprehension that he could not,
in the then existing state of the College, well be spared; but, on attempt-
ing to resume his duties at the commencement of the term in September,
he became quite satisfied that his labours must be at least temporarily sus-
pended, and he seems to have been strongly impressed with the idea that
he should never return to them. As the Rev. Eli Smith, missionary in
Palestine, was then in the country, and about to return to his station, at
IJeyroot, Professor Fiske determined to accompany him ; and, accordingly,
they sailed from New York on the 5th of November, 1846. They stopped
at Gibraltar two or three days, which Professor Fiske very diligently
employed in looking through the various wonders of that renowned place.
712
TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIOXAL
They proceeded thence to Malta, where they remained from the 16th to the
22d of December. Here he occupied himself in examining churches, forti-
fications, and other monuments uf the middle ages. After leaving Malta,
he was greatly interested in sailing among the JEgean and Adriatic Isles,
and in the prospect of setting his feet on the shores of Greece. The vessel
came to anchor, for a short time, in the harbour of the Peiraeus ; which
gave him an opportunity of looking at the most interesting objects in
Athens, and particularly of viewing the localities more immediately con-
nected with the evangelical history. He reached- the steamer on his return,
only just in time to prevent his being left ; and as she proceeded on her
way, she touched first at Rhodes, and next at Smyrna. On the 25th of
December, he left Smyrna for Constantinople, in an Austrian steamer, and,
on his arrival there, was met with great kindness by the brethren of the
American mission. He made the most of the few days that he spent there,
in examining the public buildings and other objects most interesting to a
traveller, and in ascertaining the progress of evangelical truth, in connec-
tion with the labours of the missionaries. On his return from Constanti-
nople, he touched at Smyrna again, on the 8th of January, 1847; and, four
days after, found himself safe in the harbour of Bcyrout.
Mr. Fiske was most warmly received by the missionary family at Beyrout,
and was agreeably impressed by the appearance of things around him. But,
before he had been long tliere, he was attacked with violent pains and chills,
which proved to be the commencement of ague and fever, and which, it was
feared, might interfere materially with his plans for journeying. He, how-
ever, under the treatment of a skilful physician, was soon so far restored,
as to be able to exert himself considerably every day ; and his curiosity was
so much awake, that there was great danger that his exertions would be
disproportioned to his strength. On the 12th of March, he rode to Abeih,
and on the 18th to Khamdun. The special reason for this journey was, that
he might ascertain whether the llev. Mr. Whiting would accompany him to
Jerusalem, as he needed a companion who could speak the Arabic lan-
guage ; and moreover, the state of his health was such as to render it
scarcely prudent that he should travel without some friend. After some
little delay occasioned by Mr. Whiting's ill health, they set out from Abeih
to Jerusalem, by way of Sidon, on the 13th of April. They travelled
leisurely, being both of them in a feeble state, and were sixteen days in per-
forming the journey to Jerusalem. On their arrival in the Holy City, Mr.
Fiske's health seemed somewhat improved, and he found himself able to
bear more fatigue than when he left Beyrout. His visit there, however,
which lasted for a fortnight, did not seem to contribute to his health ; a
slight diarrhea, which had troubled him somewhat in the latter part of his
journey from Beyrout, still continued, though he had no apprehension of
its assuming a serious character.
They had made their arrangements for leaving Jerusalem, on their return,
on the 11th of May. The day previous, however, Mr. Fiske had appeared
more feeble, and his companion noticed particularly that his strength was
scarcely adequate to packing his trunk. But the next morning he seemed
better, and they determined to go on their way. Having travelled three or
four hours, they pitched their tent for the night, when Mr. Whiting discov-
ered that his friend was much more seriously ill than he had supposed, and
that he was threatened with a violent attack of dysentery. The next morn-
11
J
NATHAX W. FISKE.. 713
ing, as he was too unwell to proceed on his journey, they sent back to Jeru-
salem for medical advice ; and received for answer that they had better
return thither without delay. On the next day, Mr. Fiske succeeded in
reaching Jerusalem, and went immediately, by invitation, to the house of
an eminent physician with whom he had become acquainted, where he
received evei'y attention that skill and kindness could render, till his earthly
career \Vas closed. His symptoms changed from day to day, and sometimes
appeared more favourable ; but it soon became manifest that the disease wati
on the advance, and would, in all probability, terminate in death. He
received the intelligence that he was probably soon to die, with perfect com-
posure, and found all the comfort that he needed, in the reflection that he
was in the hands of a gracious and covenant keeping Grod. His mind wan-
dered somewhat in his last hours, but, even amidst its wanderings, it would
easily be recalled to an expression of joyful confidence in the Saviour. He
breathed his last on Thursday, the 27th of May, 1847. His funeral was
attended at four o'clock on the afternoon of the same day, — the body being
removed to the English chapel, where, at the request of Mr. Whiting, the
burial service of the Church of England was read by the Rev. Mr. Nico-
layson. The funeral was attended by all the members of the mission who
were in Jerusalem at the time, including Bishop Grobat and his family,
together with the English and Prussian consuls. The procession moved
from the chapel to the burial ground on Mount Zion, where his dust now
reposes, beside that of two lamented missionaries, and within a few yards
of the Sepulchre of David.
In 1850, there was published a small volume of Professor Fiske 's Ser-
mons, in connection with an intei-esting memoir of his life, from the pen of
his friend and former associate. President Humphrey.
FROM THE REV. EDWARD HITCHCOCK, D. D., LL. D.,
PRESIDENT OF AMHERST COLLEGE.
Amherst, December 8, 1851.
Rev. and dear Sir: Much as I desire to add a few items to what has already
been publicly said respecting my esteemed friend, Professor N. W. Fiske, I regret
that my stock is so meagre. A very distinct image of his character does indeed
remain upon my mind; for it was impossible to be intimately and almost daily
associated with such a man for more than twenty years, without having the
impression last as long as life does. But it is not so easy to transfer it to paper.
Nor shall I attempt it. If I can mention a few insulated facts respecting him,
worthy of your notice, I shall be quite satisfied.
I think that some of the peculiarities of Professor Fiske's intellectual character
had an intimate connection with certain traits of his physical temperament. His
constitution was characterized b}' nervous irritability, which seemed often to be
entirely beyond his control. It made him shrink instinctively from familiar con-
tact with his fellow men, and led him, in consequence, to isolate himself too
much in his study, where his mental labours reacted upon him, aggravating his
nervousness, and rendering him still more adverse to mingling with the world.
So long as his amiable wife and family were spared, however, his system was not
seriously affected. But when he saw two lovely children fade away, and was
called for years to watch the slow approach of disease and death in the constitu-
tion of his companion, his own health received a shock from which it never
recovered. After their decease, he still clung to his now almost deserted habita-
tion, brooding with morbid interest upon past events; and his friends saw that,
Vol. II. 90
714 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL
unless he could be persuaded to go forth to inoi'c cheerful scenes, he would soon
follow the objects of his fond affections. But he was not a man to be easily turned
from his purpose; for inllexibilit}^ when he thought himself right, was one of liis
strongest characteristics. They, therefore, tried in vain to draw hiui fortli to
relaxation and the .soothing inliuence of travel. At lengtli, the thought occurred
to liim that to visit the scenes of classic and sacred literature would be intensely
interesting to one whose best years had been given to such studies ; and he
decided to go. But he delayed too long. Disease had a deeper hold of liis con-
stitution that he was aware of; and he could not endure the fatigue and powerful
excitement of a few weeks in Palestine, especially in the Holy City.
When at home, Professor Fiske, never that 1 know of, turned his attention to
Natural History; though I had sometimes suggested it as a means of improv-
ing his health. But, when he reached Palestine, he became very diligent in col-
lecting specimens of rocks and fossils there; and I was surprised to receive box
after box for the cabinet of x\mherst College, where some hundreds of excellent
specimens may be seen as monuments of his industry. I do not believe that,
had I been myself upon the same ground, I should have done more in this matter
than he did, although so long professionally devoted to such pursuits. And, on
looking over the labels attached to the specimens, I was struck with tlieir minute-
ness and accuracy, fully equal to what might have been expected from an expe-
rienced geologist. ]\Iinuteness and accuracy were indeed among his most striking
habits in every thing, and he carried them into this subject up to almost the last
week of his life; for some of the labels showed that he continued to pick up spe-
cimens as about his last work; and among them I noticed one or two gathered on
Mount Zion, where he now reposes.
These labels and one or two letters that he wrote me in relation to his collec
tions, develop another habit of his mind, — namely, unusual power of description,
sprightliness of manner, and true wit. Of the latter he possessed a genuine vein,
and we always felt it rather dangerous to ourselves to tempt him to repartee
Even when suffering from dejection of spirits, if we could only sweep away the
cloud a little, we were almost sure to witness some splendid corruscations.
As a sample of the qualities above named, I will quote a paragraph from one of
his last letters, informing me of the transmission of a box of specimens from Mount
Lebanon. " In this trip," says he, (from Beyrout to Abeih and Rhamdun,)
" I have gathered oysters and clams, and I cannot tell what other fish, cooked,
(you perhaps know when,) in old Pluto's or Vulcan's kitchen, and pickled down,
(or rather up, for I found some of them on summits, thousands of feet high,) and
preserved by the help of Neptune, and, for aught I know, the mermaids too: for
all which the geologist will thank them; — more grateful, I imagine, than the poor
donkeys, whose burthens are often increased by not a few pounds' weight of these
ante-mundane delicacies. At Abeih, I boxed for you what a Carolinian would
call a " migJity big'' lump, weighing less than a ton. It will doubtless prove a
Jactalite,* should it ever reach you. All I ask of you, provided it thus termi-
nate, is that you will bestow on the little fishes a decent burial beneath the
turf."
This and other passages in his letters which I might extract, show that Pro-
fessor Fiske's spirits had been greatly improved by his foreign tour ; for they
iomind us of his natural manner when in good health. The following letter, how-
'_>ver, addressed to me a few weeks later, (dated at Jerusalem, May 18th,) shows
that he was quite aware that the time of his departure was drawing near : —
" To you, my dear friend and brother, and Head of our beloved colleagues in
instruction, and President of the Trustees, I was expecting to address a letter
from Beyrout, hoping, on or before my arrival there, to meet letters from Amherst,
and from my friends in America, helping me to decide the path of duty as to the
* A specimen to be thrown away.
NATHAN W. FISKE. 715
remaining months of this summer. Brt the great Head of the Church is dis-
tinctly telling me that I have nothing riore to do with earthly plans. I am
prostrated with the disease called dysentery, which has hitherto baffled all
attempts to arrest it. I am, by a kind Providence, in the family of Dr. McGowan,
the eminently skilful physician connected with the English mission in this place;
and besides having the best medical attention, I have the cheering presence of the
Rev. Mr. Whiting as nurse and Christian friend.
" My time and strength compel that other circumstances should be learned from
another person.
" My support in this trying hour is drawn solely from the great and precious
promises connected with those ijeculiar doctrines of the cross, which you and
1 have long professed to love. My hope of salvation rests on the merits of Him
who suffered in Gethsemane and on Calvary for lost sinners. I lean upon Him
as the Lord my Strength, and the Lord my Righteousness, — all my salvation and
all my desire. Worthle.ss and guilty as 1 am, 1 feel that He will not forsake me,
but carry me safely through the great conflict. To you and the dear brethren 1
have many words to say, but cannot utter them."
Had our dear brother listened to the advice and entreaties of his friends to
quit earlier his arduous post of duty at home, it seems most probable that he
might have lived longer. But he acted conscientiously in refusing our advice, as
we did in giving it; and we can only regard the result as a providential dispensa-
tion, which no human wisdom was allowed to contravene. One thing is obvious
— that, though his health suffered by continuing so long where every object
reminded him of his losses, and threw a melancholy hue over the world, his
piety Avas thereby promoted. Perhaps this was the only way in which he could
be prepared for such a death on such a spot.
But I suppose you wish me to say something of Professor Fiske as a preacher.
It is certain that, in College, and sometimes in other communities, he produced
effects by his sermons rarely witnessed. It was not, however, by the graces of
his manner, or the brilliancy of his style, or a commanding personal appearance.
But one secret of his power laj^ in the very clear ideas of truth which existed in
his own mind, and which he was able to present in such distinct and sharp out-
line, that its character could not be mistaken. He had himself explored and
guaged it on every side, by all the aids which hermeneutics, metaphysics, and
experience, could afford; and when he held it up, there was no fog or haziness
where the hearer might hide himself, — nothing to prevent its bright and burning
rays from glaring terribly upon the guilty conscience. He had no sympathy,
either in his philosophy or experience, with any effort to soften and modify the
truth, till its keen edge should be little felt b}^ the unsubdued heart; nor did he
apprehend that any doctrines found in the Bible need to be kept back or mended
by human ingenuity, lest they should disgust bj^ their repulsiveness, or drive to
despair by their sternness. Another element of his power lay in his deep experi-
mental acquaintance with all those truths which he preached. You saw that
with him the Gospel was no curious collectior cf hypotheses, but vital and well
digested truth, — the very life of his soid, — without which there was no salvation.
It was in seasons of special rehgious interest that our friend's preaching told
with the greatest effect; and I must think that some of his extemporaneous efforts
in the evening lecture were more impressive than his written discourses in the
chapel: although there it was often interesting to notice liow distinctly you could
liear the ticking of the clock, while his clear and cutting sentences were finding
their way to every heart. No graduate of the College who ever heard him during
a revival, will forget the thrilling power of his appeals. Perhaps I cannot better
describe that effect than in the language of the Rev. J. E. Emerson,* who was a
•John Edwards Ehersox was born at Newburyport, Mass., .September 27, 1823; waj
graduated at Amherst College in 1844; studied Theology at the Princeton Theological Semi-
71G TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
member of the College, during the revival of 1843, and whose memoir has lately
been published. On Sabbath afternoon, a Discourse had been preached by
myself, from the text, — " Murderers of fathers and murderers of mothers." " In
the evening," says Mr. Emerson, " the most powerful appeal that I ever heard was
made to sinners by Professor Fiske from the text, — ' Nay, Father Abraham,'
&c. Every limb was in motion, and his voice was raised to its utmost pitch,
Avhile his numerous audience sat before him, breathless and silent as the grave.
The closing part was fearfully sublime. One of our most active Christians
remarked to me that, at the close of the discourse, he found himself holding on to
the seat with both hands, — he was so much frightened. With a voice 1 shall
never forget, Professor Fiske remarked, — 'One more barrier, sinner, has been
placed in your pathway to-day. Beware that you do not move it aside. You
may do it, you can do it, but beware. It may be the last barrier which God in
his mercy has interposed between you and the damnation of hell. On one side of
it I see written in fearful characters, — ' Murderers of fathers and murderers of
mothers:' on the other side, — ' Let him alone, — he is joined to his idols; let him
alone.' "
Such are some of my recollections of Professor Fiske. I will only add that,
I am very respectfully and sincerely yours,
EDWARD HITCHCOCK.
FROM THE REV. A. A. WOOD.
New York, May 1. 1854.
My dear Brother: I almost distrust my memory, as I attempt to go back
more than twenty years, and recall my excellent and lamented instructor, Professor
Fiske. He was a man, however, who, once known, could not be easily forgotten.
I first saw him when, a boy of sixteen, I went to Amherst, seeking admission to
the College, and bringing a letter of introduction from my Preceptor, who, I
believe, was one of Mr. F.'s early friends. I had never before met a College
Professor face to face, and I remember that I knocked at his door with a throb-
bing heart, and was somewhat startled when a sharp and not over-musical voice
bade me " come in." There sat before me a man of slender frame, rather below
the medium size, with a countenance pale and sunken, and already marked with
lines of deep and earnest thought. As he read my letter and looked upon me, I
thought I had never encountered a keener glance than that which flashed from
his clear grey eye. It was rather intensified than dimmed by the spectacles
which he always wore. Ever}- thing about him marked the precise and methodi-
cal student. His person, — even to the bru.shing of his hair; his dress, black
and dust-rcpclling; his white cravat, tied behind; his study-table, — a curious
eight-sided thing, with books and papers carefully arranged on each corner; his
room, where every article see«ied to have had its place deliberately assigned, and
where it had become almost a fixture — all were in keeping. I must confess that,
for the moment, the air seemed cheerless and cold. There was a rigid precision
about every thing, which put me under constraint. I seemed to be in the secret
place of study. I stood before a priest of its shrine. He was a man, I thought,
who could have little synipathj"- with a raw country boy. I began to have very
great misgivings as to the success of my application. Never had I such con-
sciousness of my own ignorance as in those first moments of my meeting the
formidable Professor of Greek.
But if these were my first impressions, 1 was soon put at ease by the cordial
kindness with whieh he welcomed me, and the interest which he at once mani-
fested in ni}- welfare. He entered readily into my plans and feelings, and, in a
nary ; was ordained pastor of the Whitefield Congregational church in Newbnryport, January Ij
1850; and died in March, 1851. lie was a young man of extraordinary promise.
NATHAN W. FISKE. 717
few minutes, I was surprised to find myself as much at home in his presence as
if I had known him for years.
Further acquaintance deepened the impression made at this first meeting with
him. A rigid discipUnarian himself, he looked for discipline in others. He had
been trained under the College regimen of the old school, and was little inclined
to look upon the young student in his teens as quite so much of a gentleman or
a genius as he was apt to fancy himself to be. As he had achieved all his own
success in life by close study and patient thought, his great aim and efiort were
to lead all who came under his instruction in the same self-denying path. In
the internal administration of the College, he was generally supposed to lean to
the side of severity, and therefore was not alwaj's very popular with the young
men; and yet I have rarely met with any one who did not grow to love him, or
who has not since spoken of him in terms of the highest respect and esteem.
In the class-room, he had a good deal of the martinet in his composition, and
manifested little sj-mpathy for the student who attempted to shirk his lessons.
The keen eye of the Professor was sure to be on him, and the weak points of
preparation were readily detected, and fully, not to say severely, exposed.
Many a pupil of his will remember a morning's sweat in the old Greek recitation
room. In all his department of instruction, he was a most minute and thorough
teacher. Ever}^ accent and particle came under his e3'e; and so particular was
his examination, that he bore for a long time the name of xai yap among the
students. But as the class advanced, his instructions took a wider range. He
was fully at home among the old Greek authors. He had imbibed their spirit.
He knew them as personal and familiar friends; and I well remember, as he
pointed out the beauties of the orators and poets of antiquity, how his e3'e would
kindle, and his pale cheek would flush, and his whole person seem almost trans-
formed, as words of burning eloquence fell from his lips. If, sometimes, when
under his instruction, I was led to regard him as unnecessarilj' rigid and particu-
lar, and to think that in his close attention to the minuti^ of the text-book, he
neglected other and equallj- important duties of a classical teacher, I have seen
since that his course of thorough drilling was the only thing that could lay a
broad and sure foundation of correct and finished scholarship.
It is as a Christian and a minister, however, that I remember Professor Fiske
with the greatest interest. He was a man of deep religious feeling. He had
consecrated himself and his acquirements to Christ and his Church, and he did
not think his duty done by any efforts in his department of professional instruc-
tion. His great aim was not only to make scholars, but to make thorough,
active, useful Christians. During the greater part of our college course, he met
the class, at least once a week, for the study of the Bible. Here he laid out his
strength. He seemed to come to the class-room from his knees; the words of
inspired truth had already produced their effect upon his own soul, and he was
thus prepared to urge them in all their stirring power on others. I think it was
in seasons of i-eligious revival, however, that he appeared to the greatest advan-
tage. Then, he seemed to forget the Professor and the class-room, and to be
only the earnest pleading man of God. Some of his presentations of the truth
in the pulpit and the conference room were among the most pungent and power-
ful that I remember to have ever heard. His small frame was trembling with
emotion; his voice low, keen, pleading, seemed to chain every attention and
reach every heart. His style, clear and vigorous, — his reasoning, close and
cogent, — his analysis of the human heart, accurate and startling, — he would
often wind up with an appeal to the conscience almost overwhelming. I have
heard many speak with peculiar interest of his sermons, distinctly remembering
them }-ears after their delivery, and more than one has referred to the truths
which thus fell from his lips, as the means of his religious conversion.
You are already familiar with Prof. Fiske's history, and I will only add that,
while it was not my privilege often to meet him during the later years of his life,
Y18 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
I uniformly heard from those who were most with him the very warmest expres-
sions of respect and affection.
I remain, my dear brother,
Most cordially and truly yours,
A. A. WOOD.
SAMUEL HORATIO STEARNS *
1828—1837.
Samuel Horatio Stearns was born at Bedford, Mass., September 12,
1801. His father was the Rev. Samuel Stearns, many years pastor of the
Congregational church in Bedford, and his mother was a daughter of the
llev. Jonathan French of Andover. Among his collateral Puritan ancestors
were several of the most distinguished families in Massachusetts.
In his early childhood, he evinced a more than commonly thoughtful
habit of mind, while yet he had no aversion to youthful sports. During
several of his early years, he divided his time between studying and labour-
ing upon a farm ; it being a favourite maxim with his father, that " no boy
is fit for College, till he knows how to work." At the age of about four-
teen, he commenced the study of Latin under his father ; and at the close
of the year 1816, became a member of Phillips Academy, Andover. Here
his mind, which had before been happily directed by parental influence to
religious things, became more deeply and earnestly engaged on the subject,
and he allowed himself to hope that he had undergone a radical change of
character. Accordingly, in June, 1817, when he was in his sixteenth year,
he made a public profession of religion, and united in the communion of the
church of which his father was pastor.
In the autumn of 1819, he was admitted to the Freshman class in Harvard
College. With a constitution that had naturally but little vigour, and with
a strong desire to excel in every branch of study, his health soon began to
yield to excessive application ; and in the spring of 1821, in his Junior
year, he was obliged to leave College in order to restore his physical ener-
gies. During the succeeding summer he was detained at home, and serious
apprehensions were entertained that he was already in a hopeless decline.
As the autumn approached, however, his health seemed to undergo a favour-
able change, and he was able to return to College at the close of the fall
vacation.
Notwithstanding Mr. Stearns' studies underwent considerable interrup-
tion at different times, not only from ill health, but from the necessity of
teaching a school in order to defray his college expenses, yet he maintained
a high standing as a scholar througliout his collegiate course, and graduated
in 1823 with one of the highest honours of his class. The part assigned
him was the Salutatory Addresses in Latin ; and, on taking his second
degree, three years after, he delivered the Master's Valedictory Oration in
Latin.
• Biography by the Rev. W. A. Stearns, D. D.
SAMUEL HORATIO STEARNS. 719
After leaving College, Mr. Stearns devoted a few weeks to recruiting bis
physical powers, and then became a teacher in Phillips Academy, Andover.
Here he continued during most of the time till the spring of 1825. The time
had now come when he wished to commence his immediate preparation "for the
ministry; but his health was too feeble to permit it, and he became seriously
apprehensive that he should be obliged to abandon his long cherished pur-
pose altogether. By devoting the summer, however, to moderate physical
labour, his health became so much improved, that in December following he
joined the Junior class of the Theological Seminary at Andover. Here he
continued, prosecuting his studies with as much vigour as his health would
permit, to the close of the prescribed course. Sometime during his con-
nection with the Seminary, his mind was not a little exercised on the ques-
tion whether it was not his duty to become a missionary to the Heathen ;
and notwithstanding it seemed clear enough to his friends that the indica-
tions of Providence were all in favour of his remaining at home, yet it was
not till after a long season of doubt and conflict that he was brought to
acquiesce in their judgment. He left the Seminary, with his class, in the
autumn of 1828. On the occasion of the anniversary, he read a sketch of
the character of Zuingle ; and on taking leave of the Porter Rhetorical
Society, of which he was President, he delivered an address, exhibiting his
ideal of the style and demeanour which become the pulpit.
Mr. Stearns' health was now so much enfeebled, that he was convinced
that it would be hazardous for him to attempt to settle in the ministry,
until he had taken some time to recruit his exhausted energies. He accord-
ingly accepted an invitation to pass the succeeding winter in Philadelphia,
sharing with the Rev, Dr. Skinner the services of the pulpit. It was an
occasion of great grief to him that he found his health inadequate even to
the moderate demands which this engagement made upon him. After
remaining at Philadelphia about three months, he returned to his father's
house, not a little disheartened in regard to his prospects of usefulness in
the ministry, though cheerfull}' submitting himself to the Divine disposal.
From this period, he spent most of his time, for several years, with his
parents; engaged partly in rural occupations, partly in prosecuting some of
his favourite studies, and partly in assisting his father in his public services
and supplying destitute congregations in the region. He projected a work,^
during this period, on the " moral nature of man," to be divided into three
parts, and comprised in three octavo volumes; but he seems to have done
nothing more than sketch the outlines of the first volume. Though, in
some instances, he supplied vacant churches for several months in succession,
yet he refused, in every case, to be considered a candidate for settlement,
believing, as he did, that his health was not yet sufficiently confirmed to
warrant him in undertaking the labours incident to a regular pastorate.
From the spring of 1830, Mr. Stearns had been gaining in health, and
had sufi'ered less and less inconvenience from the effort of preaching. In
the autumn and winter of 1832, he supplied, for several weeks in succession,
the Federal Street church in Newburyport, and in the winter and spring of
1833, the Park Street church in Boston, After spending much of the fol-
lowing season in journeying and relaxation, he found, near the close of the
year, that his constitution was so much invigorated as to justify, in his
opinion, the purpose of taking, as soon as might be convenient, a small
pastoral charge. His wish, however, in regard to & small parish, was over-
720 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
ruled ; auJ he received, about the same time, unanimous calls to settle over
the Tabernacle church iu Salem, and the Old South church in Boston. His
mind was, for some time, greatly agitated in regard to the matter of duty ;
but, after much deliberation, consultation, and prayer, he accepted the
invitation from Boston, and Avas ordained on the Kith of April, 1834. The
ordination sermon was preached by the liev. Dr. Skinner, and the charge
was given by Mr. Steai-ns' father.
Mr. Stearns' settlement, though attended by many promising circumstan-
ces, was at best an experiment of doubtful issue. His health began to sink
even under the excitement attending his ordination and a sense of the
responsibility which his new relation imposed upon him. He preached to
his people two Sabbaths, and one sermon on the third Sabbath, and never
preached to them again. He returned to Bedford, almost ready to sink
under the burden of disappointed hope. In the autumn, his sj'mptoms
became more favourable ; but he was put back, not a little, by being called
to witness the decline, and finally the death, of his beloved and venerated
father. During the spring of 1835, he was exceedingly feeble, but was able,
in the early part of June, to set out with his brother on an excursion for
health. He travelled extensively in several different States, and, after an
absence of three months, returned to Bedford with his health greatly
improved. Being exquisitely alive to natural beauty, he found sources of
rich enjoyment every where on his joui-noy, and was sometimes well nigh
overpowered by the extraordinary sublimities in the mountain scenery
through which he passed. He subsequently made a journey into the State
of Maine, and towards the close of autumn visited New York again, for the
purpose of consulting his physician as to the time when he might safely
return to his charge. The first Sabbath in January was finally fixed upon
as the day on which he should resume his public labours ; but as the season
approached, it was found that it would be too dangerous an experiment to
be attempted, and it must still be put off to an indefinite period. He felt
that the interests of his congregation were suffering from this protracted
suspense, and that it was due to them that he should ask to be dismissed
from his pastoral charge. He accordingly tendered his resignation, which
was accepted, with every testimony of affectionate regard for his character,
and regret for the necessity of the premature separation. It was his earnest
desire to preach a Farewell Sermon, that he might publicly testify his grati-
tude for their manifold expressions of kindness to him, and especially for
the patience with which they had waited for his recovery ; but he found
himself so feeble that he was obliged to forego the gratification. His dis-
mission by an ecclesiastical council took place in February, 1836.
In the following spring. Mr. Stearns made a journey to Washington, and
on his return began to deliberate seriously on the propriety of making a
voyage to Europe. He soon determined to do so ; and, accordingly, on the
8th of June, sailed for London, from New York, in company with his friend,
Professor Stowe, then of Cincinnati. He arrived in England after a pas-
sage of about twenty days, and spent nearly two months in travelling and
visiting in England and Scotland. In the latter part of August, he went
from London to Hamburgh, thence to Berlin, Wittenberg, Halle, &c., stop-
ping at each place long enough to see the most interesting objects and gain
an introduction to the most interesting persons. He reached Paris about
the 1st of October, and had made arranirements to set sail for America
SAMUEL HORATIO STEAENS. 721
within a few weeks ; but was prevailed upon by two American friends whom
he met in Paris, to abandon the purpose of a speedy return, and to accom-
pany them on a tour to Italy. These friends (the Rev. Edward E. Salis-
bury and lady) manifested the most affectionate and generous interest in his
welfare, and followed him with their kind attentions, until death placed him
beyond their reach.
Mr. Stearns accordingly spent the succeeding winter in Italy, where he
revelled almost continually amidst classic associations. In the early part
of the winter, he took a severe cold at Florence, which considerably aggra-
vated his disease, though he was still able to travel and to enjoy the variety
of objects with which he was constantly brought in contact. After spend-
ing some weeks in Rome, he passed on to Naples, — thence by Leghorn,
Florence, Bologna, Venice, Milan, Turin, and Greneva, to Paris, where he
arrived about the beginning of June.
It was his intention to have embarked for America, about three weeks
after he reached Paris, and he was prevented only by his applying too late
for a berth in the packet. The delay, however, was mercifully ordered, as
he would probably have never reached the American shores, alive. Imme-
diately after this disappointment, he put himself under the care of a dis-
tinguished German physician, intending to defer his return till autumn.
But his decline now became more rapid, and it was impossible that he should
disguise to himself the fact that his disease had taken on a perfectly hope-
less character. On the 28th of June, he wrote a farewell letter to his
friends in America, fully recognising the fact that he was to see them no
more, and abounding in expressions of the tenderest affection, as well as of
joyful and all-sustaining hope. He continued to ride out daily till three
days before his death, when his disease had made such progress that he was
obliged to take to his bed. He died on the 15th of July, 1837, a model
of serene and cheerful trust. His funeral was attended on the 17th by
eighteen or twenty of his own countrymen, and the service was performed
by the Rev. Edward N. Kirk.
After Mr. Stearns' death, a volume of his Sermons was published,
together with an extended biographical notice of him by his brother, the
Rev. W. A. Stearns, D. D., of Cambridgeport, which has passed through
three editions.
FROM THE REV. JONATHAN CLEMENT, D. D.
TopsHAM, Me., April 7, 1852.
Rev. and dear Sir: When I first saw Mr. Stearns, he was a member of Cam-
bridge College. His appearance was striking. He was slender and pale, and
his countenance bore the marks, even then, of that incipient disease which after-
wards brought upon him immense sufferings of body and mind, and shortened
his days. Though, in later years, it produced irresolution and despondency,
yet it may be that, in early life, it stimulated his intellectual energies into a
degree of activity which wasted them. There was no appearance whatever of
precocity in the developments of his youthful mind.
The modest and unassuming deportment which accompanied him through
life, assumed, at this time, a very prepossessing aspect. Yet, in the animation
of his countenance and the glance of his eye, when he became deeply interested
in conversation, there was a plain intimation of the superiority of the inner
man. Those who have read the memoirs of Mr. Stearns, are aware that his early
Vol. IL 91
722 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
training was under the direction of parents who were judicious as well as
devoted. He was the child of prayer, of hope, and of promise. lie was con-
secrated from his infancy; and with a view to that consecration to a noble end,
was liis education, mental and moral, religiously conducted. Here we find one
of the most active causes of those traits of character which subsequently
appeared. Throughout his life, he cherislied the warmest filial afl'ection and
gratitude and the deepest appreciation of his obligations to his pious home.
Having been associated and on terms of much familiarity and friendship, durin;.-
his residence at Andover, and up to the period of his departure for Europe,
where he died, — having journeyed often together and parted for the last time in
Baltimore, after having listened together to the speeches of Clay and John
Quincy Adams in Congress, and visited in company the tomb of Washington,
it occurs to me that I can offer no better contribution to his memory than to
speak of those characteristics and incidents which made the deepest impression
upon me at the time, and which are now the most distinctly recollected. In
doing this, I shall undoubtedly say some things which have already been better
said, but I may likewise foil upon others, which will at least have the sem-
blance of being new, on account of the minute knowledge I had of some of his
most private feelings.
No one well acquainted with Mr. Stearns will doubt that originally he pos-
sessed a mind of uncommon strength. A finished education brought out its
powers in the happiest proportions. It would be hard to say which was most
to be admired, his strong reasoning faculty or his exquisite literary taste. He
was much given to patient and protracted reflection. Whatever he studied or
read was the theme of meditation. After he had entered the ministry, he
re-read the Essays of John Foster. That which he liked the best was " on one's
writing memoirs of himself." As he read, it was no uncommon thing for him
to pause and reflect for an hour or more on a single page. It was a remark of
one who knew him well, in comparing him with some others, who in Uterary
standing were ranked with himself, and who have since been distinguished in
public life, — that while they derived their knowledge, chiefly from books, he
derived his, chiefly from reflection. Out of his own mind, in profound and
connected thought, proceeded those fruits of his lips and pen which gave him a
high character as a scholar.
It was this mental trait that led him so closely to scrutinize all the subjects of
his study, to reject what could not bear the test of severe examination, and to
make his own whatever was retained. In the study of Dogmatic Theology, he
sifted the evidences of received doctrines to the utmost, that he might thereby
learn how to meet objections, and know on what grounds the teachings of reli-
gion could be rested with safety. The result of his investigations was, that he
reposed with perfect confidence in the Calvinistic interpretations of the Bible.
As Mr. Stearns was a profound theologian, so was he a man of exquisite sensi-
bilities. He had a nice perception of the passages of the heart through which
the preacher must approach the hearer, if he would win the soul to Christ. He
had studied much to gain the art of inculcating the truths of the Gospel upon a
mixed congregation with the greatest eflect. He sought out, with uncommon
diligence, the most acceptable words. By that acuteness of taste which enabled
him afterwards so attractively to describe the paintings of Italy, he instinctively
rejected in his style of writing every thing which is repulsive to the most culti-
vated minds. At the same time, he knew how to adapt his discourses to the
humblest capacities, and to sway thereby the feelings of the most ignorant. It
would be difficult to say which portion of a large Sabbath congregation was most
interested and moved by his addresses from the pulpit, — the most refined or the
most untaught. He once preached a doctrinal sermon in Brunswick, Me., which
was pronounced by an excellent judge the best he ever heard on the subject; and
SAMUEL HORATIO STEARNS. 72g
yet, when called in the evening to address a little humble circle in the house of
mourning, there was not one present who did not feel that he was listening to an
fc> 'inordinary man. This excellence of pulpit powers is to be attributed, in
great measure, to the excellence of his education in all its parts. His great pro-
ficiency in mathematics and metaphyics had disciplined his mind to a lucid order;
his proficiency in belles-lettres and elocution prepared him to set off to the best
practical advantage his well-assorted knowledge of revealed truth.
Another great cause of his success as a preacher was the thorough discipline
of his heart. He had accustomed himself to feel the weight of those truths
which are dispensed in the sanctuary. He abhorred the mere appearance of
feeling, where there was not the reality. He would not allow himself to make
a gesture or to assume any external show of zeal, when not prompted by the
sentiments of his own soul. This entire sincerity, this honest conviction of the
solemnity of preaching the Gospel, gave a naturalness and impressiveness to all
the action of the pulpit. His voice, injured somewhat in its melody by long
illness, was frequently tremulous with emotion, and, corresponding with his
frail bodily appearance, sometimes left an impression upon his hearers that they
were probably hearing him for the last time. It seemed like a voice from behind
the curtain of time, and hard indeed was the heart of that hearer who was not
affected.
His public prayers were even more remarkable than his discourses. How
often have 1 heard strangers exclaim, when returning from the house of God, or
from the conference room where he had officiated, " I never heard such a prayer
before!" The same feeling was produced by his prayers in the family. They
were the pouring forth of the heart, uttering itself spontaneously and earnestly
in penitence, love, and faith; using " the simplest forms of speech," and yet often
rising naturallj' to the " sublimcst strains." The presence of God was realized
by those who joined in the prayer; and all who had tasted and seen that the
Lord is gracious, prized more than ever the blessings of his grace. I once saw a
list of Scripture texts which he had prepared with reference to the topics to be
introduced in public pra)'er. Though he did not rigidly use them, quotations
from them were happily made in all his addresses to the throne of the Divine
Mercy. His talent at prayer was of great service to him in his pastoral visits
to the family and social circle, to the sick and dying, to the bereaved and afflicted,
and to the anxious inquirer after the way of life. Since I commenced the writing
of this sketch, I have been informed by one who assisted in giving a call to Mr.
Stearns to settle over a parish in Millbury, Mass., that, while preaching as a can-
didate there, he was invited to oifer prayers at the opening of town meeting, and
although there was the usual boisterous conversation as he commenced, he had
not proceeded many sentences before all were hushed to silent attention and
continued deeply interested to the close. There are many who will never forget
the praj'er he offered at the bed-side of a class-mate, who died when he was a
member of the Theological Seminary at Andover. Besides his gift in prayer, his
social and conversational powers were such, that in a revival of religion which
once took place under his preaching, his usefulness out of the pulpit was thought
to be even greater than in it. What might not have been expected from his con-
tinued life.' But perhaps he has accomplished still more by the circumstances
of his early death. We know that it made a deep religious impression on both
sides of the Atlantic.
When Mr. Stearns was laid aside from preaching by ill health, he turned his
thoughts, as far as he was able, to some other method of serving his generation.
His mind was much occupied with the inquiry as to what course of life would
enable a man of great intellectual powers and cultivation, with the requisite time
and means at his control, to accomplish the most for the good of the world. I
should judge, from several conversations I had with him on that subject, that he
Y24 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
■was inclining to the opinion that no one of the professions of life would be chosen
by such a man, but a combination of those things which are most valuable in all.
But long before his death, he had settled down upon the conviction that the min-
ister of Jesus occupied the noblest position for blessing his fellow men. In this
belief he doubtless left the world.
Mr. Stearns had remarkably strong attachments to his family circle. Hi.s
friends relied on his advice when he was very young. He had a maturity of
judgment which made it safe for them so to do. The last letter he wrote, dated
in Paris just before his death, contained some directions as to the best manage-
ment of the little spot of ground attached to the dwelling where his mother still
resides. In the erection of the house occupied by the brother who wrote his life,
a room was especially designed for him, to which he looked forward with the
greatest interest, if God should permit him to re-cross the Atlantic. His
unfeigned aflection for his family, I need not say, was fully reciprocated. There
is not one of them to whom a strong appeal cannot be made by the very mention
of his name. To all his friends his attachments were very strong. There kre
many now in the ministry who deeply feel their obligations to him for the faith-
*'ulness of his friendship. Oftentimes, in the course of his education, he allowed
himself to be misunderstood and misrepresented, rather than betray the confi-
dence that had been reposed in him by fellow-students. In the dark hour of
discouragement as to professional prospects, many resorted to him and received
counsel and courage. In doubtful exigencies, his advice was deemed invaluable.
To this day his memory is cherished in the aftections of not a few who occupy
places of great responsibilitj'- and usefulness. Had his life been spared and a
good degree of health enjoyed, Mr. Stearns would have stood at the head of a
large company of friends in important positions, bound to him by no common
ties of esteem and confidence, and over whom he would have put forth an influ-
ence eminently salutary to evangelical truth and practical piety. In all his inter-
course with his friends, he knew how to regulate the keenest wit by the ever-pre-
sent sense of propriety.
The interests of education would have found in Mr. Stearns a judicious and
zealous advocate. He would have swayed the minds of many who are entrusted
with the instruction of the young, whether in common schools or in the higher
seminaries of science, literature, and religion. In times of great conflict of pub-
lic opinion as to these weighty concerns, his cool judgment, good sense, and
extensive acquaintance with schools, and books, and teachers, and the difierent
methods of teaching, would have been of incalculable benefit. No sophistry, or
pretension, or unsubstantial novelties, as to the culture of the youthful mind,
would have had any power with him.
But I fear I have already transgressed the bounds prescribed to this letter. If
the foregoing sketch may be regarded as a tribute to one of the most valued of
friends, you may be assured that it is also faithful to the merit of one of the best
of men. Respectfully yours,
JONATHAN CLEMENT.
I
OLIVER ALDEN TAYLOR. 725
OLIVER ALDEN TAYLOR.*
1828—1851.
Oliver Alden Taylor, the son of Jeremiah and Martha (Shaw) Taylor,
was born in Yarmouth, Mass., on the 18th of August, 1801, — being the
eldest of eleven children. His mother was a granddaughter of the Rev.
Habijah Weld, for many years a distinguished minister in Attleborough,
Mass.; a daughter of the Rev. Timothy Alden of Yarmouth, and a sister of
the Rev. Timothy Alden, Jr., who was originally settled in the ministry at
Portsmouth, N. H., and afterwards became President of Alleghany College.
The parents of the subject of this sketch removed, during his early
infancy, to Ashfield, Mass.; and having remained there two years, took up
their residence in the neighbouring town of Hawley. Oliver evinced an
early taste for books, which was encouraged by his intelligent and excellent
parents, though neither he nor they could see any prospect of his being
able to obtain a liberal education. Through the influence of a devotedly
pious mother, his thoughts were early turned towards serious subjects,
though he seems not to have entered decidedly upon the Christian life before
the year 1815, and did not make a public profession of his faith until May
of the next year. His early religious exercises were marked by great self-
abasement, by a deep sense of his dependance on Divine grace, and by an
earnest spirit of self-consecration to the best interests of his fellow men and
the glory of his Redeemer,
It became quickly manifest that there was a spirit within him that would
never be satisfied with any moderate degree of intellectual culture. Even
while he was at work upon his father's farm, he was accustomed to write
out lessons on pieces of paper, place them in his hat, and, by occasionally
looking at them, commit them to memory. In this way, he mastered the
rudiments of sacred music ; and in the autumn of 1818 he commenced
attending an evening singing school, which obliged him to walk five miles,
after toiling in the fields through the day. He was especially fond of
mathematics, and began to give his attention particularly to this branch as
early as 1813.
Shortly after he had completed his seventeenth year, the Rev. Jonathan
Grout, pastor of the Congregational church in Hawley, received him into
his family ; and under his tuition he enjoyed about seven weeks of uninter-
rupted study. He then returned, for a while, to the labours of the farm ;
but of course his heart was not in them ; and he resolved to write to his
uncle, then President of Alleghany College, to inquire whether he could
not, in some way, assist him towards obtaining a collegiate education; and
bis uncle, in reply, promised to make application, in his behalf, to the
American Education Society. Through the kindness of the Rev. Thomas
Shepard of Ashfield, he was, soon after this, enabled to attend, for several
months, the Ashfield Academy ; and early in April, 1820, he went to
Williamstown to undergo the requisite examination for being admitted as a
beneficiary of the American Education Society. In this he was successful ;
and about the close of the same month, agreeably to an arrangement pre-
• Memoir by Rev. T. A. Taylor.
726 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
viously made with his uncle, he set out for Meadville, Penn., his uncle's
residence, where he expected to prosecute his studies. He arrived there on
the 22d of May. The expenses of his journey, — a distance of more than
five hundred miles, amounted to about five dollars and a half.
After his arrival at Meadville, he was engaged for three months in teach-
ing school as a means of assisting to defray his expenses ; and in August,
1821, he entered Alleghany College. But before the close of the year, he
became satisfied that the advantages furnished by the College were, by no
means, equal to his aspirations, and began to meditate the purpose of
transferring his relations to some more eligible institution. It was a trial
to him to do this, especially as it must separate him from his uncle and
other relatives, who were deeply interested in his welfare ; but his convic-
tions of duty prevailed, and, accordingly, on the 30th of April, 1822, he left
Meadville and dii'ected his course towards Schenectady, with a view to join
Union College. After a journey marked by many interesting incidents, he
reached Schenectady safely, and quickly found himself in all respects in a
congenial atmosphere. He entered the class which was then soon to com-
mence Sophomore, and, in July following, engaged in a small school in
Schenectady, from the necessity of thus increasing his pecuniary means.
In the latter part of August, 1823, he was received under the care of the
Albany Presbytery as a beneficiary candidate for the ministry. His whole
collegiate course was marked by diligent and successful application, and
gave promise of much more than an ordinary degree of professional useful-
ness. He was graduated at the Commencement in July, 1825, on which
occasion he delivered a poem.
Immediately after leaving College, he became a member of the Theological
Seminary at Andover ; where he pursued his studies with the utmost zeal and
assiduity. In addition to the prescribed course, he devoted much time to
translating from the French and German, and evinced, as he had done
during his college course, a rare facility at mastering languages, whether
ancient or modern. In the spring vacation of 1827, he was engaged for
a few weeks as a city missionary in Boston. In September following, he
commenced teaching a school at Gloucester, chiefly with a view to relieve
himself from pecuniary embarrassment ; and, after continuing in it for a
year, returned to Andover to complete the studies of the prescribed course.
Early in November, 1828, he received the usual license to preach the Gos-
pel; and he preached his first sermon on the 29th of March, 1829.
Immediately after completing his theological course, he was invited to
preach as a candidate in Topsfield, Mass.; and, though he declined being
considered in that light, he consented to supply the pulpit a few Sabbaths.
The result was that a call was very soon made out for him, and his accep-
tance of it very strongly and perseveringly urged ; but he felt constrained to
decline it.
For several of the succeeding years, Mr. Taylor was occupied chiefly
in literary pursuits, — such as translating from the German, teaching Hebrew
in the Theological Seminary at Andover, as assistant to Professor Stuart,
and making constant advances in Oriental learning. In 1837, when Pro-
fessor Robinson, of the Union Theological Seminary, New York, was about
to spend a year in Europe and Palestine, in biblical and historical researches,
he applied to Mr. Taylor to occupy his chair in the Seminary during his
absence ; but the demands made for his services in the Seminary at Andover
OLIVER ALDEN TAYLOR. 727
prevented his complying with the request. Mr. Taylor's literary engage-
ments, however, during this period, did not prevent him altogether from
performing the duties of a minister. He supplied various pulpits, and in
some instances for many Sabbaths successively, and was more than oncQ
invited to an advantageous settlement. But he resisted all such applications,
and did not make preaching his chief employment until the autumn of 1838.
In ]Sovember of that year, he was ordained as an evangelist at Newbury,
Mass.
In July, 1839, he began to preach at Manchester, Mass., as a candidate;
though he had previously cherished the hope of going on a foreign mission,
and seems to have abandoned it, not without great reluctance, nor till he
had submitted the question of duty to the American Board. After preach-
ing to the people of Manchester a few weeks, he received a call to become
their pastor ; and, having accepted it, was installed as such on the 18th of
September following.
On the 4th of November, 1843, Mr. Taylor was married to Mary,
daughter of the late N. Cleaveland, M. D., of Topsfield, Mass.
In the latter part of May, 1851, his health being considerably enfeebled,
he made a visit, with his wife, to his friends in Pennsylvania, with a view
to recruit it. On his return, he was attacked with a dysentery at Deposit,
N. Y., and was obliged to call in medical aid; and though he was relieved,
so that he was able to proc-eed on his journey, this was considered as the
commencement of the malady that terminated his life. He reached home
on the 5th of July, and was able, for several weeks, to attend to his accus-
tomed duties ; but, on the 13th of August, he found himself seriously ill
and in the physician's hands. He languished until the 18th of December,
when he died, aged fifty years and four months. During the continuance
of his illness, he manifested great loveliness of character, perfect sub-
mission to the Divine will, and an earnest desire to promote the spiritual
interests of all around him. Now and then, a cloud seemed to pass between
him and his Redeemer ; but for the most part his views of the future were
clear and bright. His death was lamented as a sore affliction, not only by
the people to whom he ministered, but by the community at large. His
funeral sermon was preached on the next Sabbath by the Rev. Mr. Crowell
of Essex.
Mr. Taylor's publications, both original and translated, are, for the most
part, scattered through various periodicals, — such as the Journal of
Humanity, the Biblical Repository, the American Quarterly Register, the
Christian Parlour Magazine, &c. In 1838, he published a Catalogue of
the Andover Theological Seminary, — a work which shows various, minute,
and accurate learning. In 1844, he prepared a Memoir of Mr. Andrew
Lee, entitled "Piety in humble life," which was published by the Massa-
chusetts Sunday School Society. A number of his poetical effusions also
were printed, ranging from 1820 to 1828.
In 1853, there was published a Memoir of his Life, by his brother, the
Rev. Timothy Alden Taylor; and, during the present year, (1856,) there
has appeared a second edition of it- considerably enlarged.
728 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
FROM THE REV. E. A. PARK, D. D.
Andover, Juno S4, 1866
Dear Sir: I became acquainted with Mr. Oliver A. Taylor in the autumn of
1828, when he was a member of the Senior class in Andover Theological Semi-
nary. A large part of the ten j^cars immediately following the completion of
his Seminary course, he spent in literary labours at Andover, and during half of
that period I resided near him. The more I knew of his marked and original
character, the more highly I valued it.
As I recall the scenes of his Andover life, I think, first, of his sensitiveness.
" I must have a still room; I cannot study in the midst of noise," were the first
words which I remember to have heard him utter. Nothing seems more natural
than to behold him walking with great rapidity, — his head inclined downward,
his arms swinging violently, — to the " Sun-set Rock," in order to enjoy the rich
hues of our Western sky. Often have I met him in some of our secluded groves,
where he seemed to feel as if he were in a temple. He loved nature, and was
easily as well as deeply impressed by it. He regarded it as a most religious
obligation, he made it a matter of principle, to cultivate his sensibility to the
grand and the graceful in the works of God. "Without this sensibility," he
said, " I can not believe a man half a man. At any rate, such a person is hardly
fit to be a minister of the Gospel." His friends need no other picture of him
than himself has given in the following notice of his ascent, on a bright winter
evening, up a lofty and snow-covered hill : "I walked a little way ; then paused ;
looked around; admired the works of God; adored his majesty, and bowed
in reverence before him; then proceeded onward a little; stopped again; and
gazed; and adored as before." After he had removed to his pastorate, he thus
described a visit which he paid to his favourite haunts at Andover: " Went into
my old room; sat down in the rocking chair for the last time; wept; and prayed
that all the sins which I had committed during my residence in that room, might
be forgiven. They doubtless were many. Now the history of that period is
closed for the Judgment day. I prayed; and wept; and prayed again; started;
lingered; turned; and tlien went back."
These indications of Mr. Taylor's temperament would lead us to anticipate
that he would experience alternations of high enjoyment and deep sorrow. He
was wont to speak in a subdued semitone, which revealed his inward melancholy.
" ;My life is a Waterloo battle," he often said. " I am too delicately strung, too
easily brui-sed, to come into contact with so rude a world. Every flower I cull is
sure to conceal a thorn or a sting." More than once to inquiries concerning his
health after he had closed his exhausting studies for the day, he replied with a
most original plaintiveness of accent, " j^Jliis in servicndo consumor." " I am
quite confident," he writes from Andover, " that T had no religion when a mem-
ber of College, and none till I had been a member of this Seminary for some
time," and now " I fear I am destitute of true piety." " I received a reproof
from one student for having spoken severely of another. Viper after viper crawls
out of my heart, and yet hundreds remain." " ^ly soul " — he writes after his
settlement in the ministry — " is full of wild beasts." He had an intense desire
to spend his life as a foreign missionary, but the severe judgments which he
passed upon his religious character, disposed him to question his fitness for the
foreign service. " Had I a person before me," he writes, " whose characteris-
tics appeared as mine do, I should not much hesitate to pronounce him an enemy of
God." After he had disciplined himself into such entire renunciation of his own
claims and hopes, he was often elevated to the very heights ot spiritual joy, and
was apt to express himself in a rapturous style which would remind his hearers
of David Brainerd. He feared God. He honoured ?reat men. He was affection-
OLIVER ALDEN TAYLOR. 729
ate to his friends. lie could not sleep at night, if he suspected himself of not
forgiving those who had injured him.
Next to Mr. Taylor's acute sensibility, I am reminded of his frugality. The
"res angust<B domi" impeded his early progress in letters. Until the last
twelve years of his life he had been dependant on his literary labours for a main-
tenance; and after his settlement in the ministry he received but a meagre income.
Yet he left a library of 2,562 volumes, many of them possessing rare worth.
His Arabic works, which cost him $'150, he bequeathed to Union College, his
Alma Mater. Three hundred and eighty-five volumes, more than half of them
being standard German works, all of them valued at $450, he gave to Amherst
College. He left other liberal donations to his friends. Yet he had, in great
measure, defrayed the expenses of his own education; had contributed largely
to the aid of his three clerical brothers, who, under his advice, were trained
at Amherst College and at Theological Seminaries, and he had been ever
generous in his donations to his widowed and indigent mother. The following
sentence in a letter to this beloved parent from Andover, where he was struggling
with penury, betrays the secret of the method in which he was enabled to do so
much for others, while he needed so much for himself: "I have only a little
money, yet I must send you one dollar, with which to pay the postage on this
letter and to buy you a little tea."
This habitual economy, which still did not sink into parsimony, was extended
beyond the sphere of dollars and cents. It was very obvious in his employment
of time. Of his minutes he seemed to be almost avaricious. Every hour brought
its own duties to him, and he was prompt and punctual in discharging them. His
brisk walk before sunrise in the morning was an emblem of his vigorous work
until ten o'clock in the evening. During his Manchester pastorate, he was ever
solicitous to circulate religious periodicals among his people, and it was not
uncommon for him to walk nearly a mile before the dawn of day, and leave the
periodicals at the front doors of his yet sleeping parishioners. Thus he gained
his morning exercise, distributed useful books, and prepared himself for the
studies of the forenoon by setting an example of enterprise to his parish.
He was equally frugal of all advantages for intellectual growth. It was not
without some " natural tears " that he left his paradise of study at Andover,
and went into practical life. In a letter to his friend Professor B. B. Edwards,
he says: " My plans of literary labour are all brought to an end. My Arabic
Dictionaries; the Koran; De Sacy; my Klopstock and Reinhard, — farewell to
you all. I shall converse with you at my leisure no more. I shall only be alle
to pay you a passing visit, as by stealth." Still he did find or make opportuni-
ties for his favourite studies, amid his multiplied parochial toils. Such sentences
as these are found scattered through his memoir: "I have been travelling on
recently through the twentieth Book of Homer." " I have ventured a little this
week into Cicero's Classical Latin." Indeed this energetic student could not live
otherwise than in an industrious use of every literary privilege which his sacred
vocation allowed.
The same indomitable purpose to waste nothing characterized his religious
life. He was afraid of losing the advantages of his ill health, of his bereave-
ments, of his sorest disappointments. " I must take care," he said after perhaps
the saddest trial of his life, "not to miss the good results of this affliction. I
must glean carefully in this field of sorrow." He strove to turn every calamity
to seme good account in deepening his penitence and exalting his trust in God.
He gathered up the fragments of religious discipline, so that nothing should be
lost. He had a singular zeal in husbanding providences. His last fault would
be to hide any talent in the eartii.
With this single aim to improve himself mentally and morally, and thus fit
himself, as he expressed the desire, to " gather a few gems of immortal souls in
Vol. II. 92
730 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
his crown, and to shine at least as one of the obscurer stara among those who
turn many to righteousness,'" ^Ir. Taylor adopted a severe regimen with himself,
a most exact method of study, devotion, and beneficence. Thus, — how could
it be otherwise.'' — he overcame many obstacles to his intellectual and spiritual
progress, and made attainments highly creditable to himself and beneficial to
others. His Essays in the Biblical Repository, Spirit of the Pilgrims, and Amer-
ican Quarterly Register; his published volumes, jjarticularly his Translations of
Reinhard, exerted a stimulating inlluence on the community of letters. He left
a manuscript translation of Schmid's History of the Pulpit, on which he had
expended some of his ripest thoughts. He prepared the Catalogue of the Library
of Andover Theological Seminary. While in Europe, I showed this Catalogue
to several German Professors, who pronounced it " one of the most elaborate
works of the kind which tliey had ever seen," and " an honour to the country."
He was a careful French, German, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew scholar; had
studied the Rabbinic literature, and was no mean proficient in the Arabic. As
he had been a persevering applicant to books, so he became an indefatigable, no
less than tenderly sympathizing, pastor; and by his rigid adherence to rules for
physical exercise, devotional reading, parochial visits, and professional study, he
exemplified the feasibility of uniting the earnest scholar with the devout Chris-
tian and the intensely practical clergyman. He illustrated his firm purposes in
the words which he recorded in his journal, near the time of his entrance upon
the ministerial life: " I have no patrons — never had any — am obliged to push
my way every where, and yet have no disposition to crowd myself any where.
There is a course full of glory, and I must bend all the powers of my soul in
that direction, — be self-denying and resigned to the will of God." How faith-
fully he cherished the spirit of this resolve may be learned from his rich experi-
ences near the close of his pastoral career, and from his last words, humble yet
aspiring, characteristic of his regret for having done so little, and his ceaseless
effort to do something more — " But oh! to be absorbed in the glory of God; this
is what I want."
I might add much more, but I conclude with an expression of the high regard
of, dear Sir, your friend,
EDWARDS A. PARK.
WILLIAM MATTICKS ROGERS.*
1830—1850.
William Matticks Rogers was born September 10, 1806, in the
Island of Aklcrney, one of a group in the English Channel, near the French
coast, but belonging to the British Crown. His father was a subordinate
officer in the Royal Navy, and won a medal, under Nelson, at the battle of
the Nile. His mother, a lady of fine intellectual and moral qualities and
of devoted piety, was originally a member of the Church of England, but
afterwards became a Wesleyan Methodist. Her son was baptized in the
parish church, by the name of Samuel Matticks Ellen Kittle, and he retained
this name till after he entered the ministry ; when it was changed in honour
of a near relative and great benefactor. While he was in his second year,
his mother was called to her rest ; and on her death bed she committed him
•MS. from the Rev. George Richards.
WILLIAM MATTICKS ROGERS. 73]^
to the care of a sister, with a request that, at the termination of difficulties
with this country, he should be sent hither to her brother, with a view to
being educated for the ministry. The mother's dying injunction was sacredly
regarded ; and, in due time, the boy was brought across the ocean and
safely landed at the house of his uncle. Captain William M. Rogers of
Dorchester.
He was at that time ten years old ; and until he was fifteen, he attended
a common school, at which he exhibited great proficiency. He was then
transferred to Phillips Academy, Andover ; where his mind was first deeply
impressed with religious truth, and he became, as he believed, a true
Christian. Shortly after this, he joined the church at Dorchester, then
under the care of the Rev. Dr. Codman. In 1823, he became a member of
Harvard University, During the first two years of his college life, he
ranked among the best scholars in his class ; but afterwards, in consequence
of devoting more time to general reading, and less to the prescribed studies,
his rank as a scholar somewhat declined, though it was never otherwise than
highly respectable. During his Freshman year, he taught a school for a
while in Bedford, and during his Sophomore year in Billerica.
He graduated in 1827, when he was twenty-one years of age, and, imme-
diately after, joined the Theological Seminary at Andover. Havina; completed
his course here in 1830, and received license to preach, a call was presented
to him from the Evangelical Congregational church in Townsend, Mass.,
which he accepted. In 1832, he was married to a daughter of the Hon.
Solomon Strong of Leominster, Mass., a lady distinguished for her attractive
manners, excellent judgment, and consistent piety. In his acceptance of
the call at Townsend, he stipulated that his settlement should be for only
five years ; and, at the end of that term, though his labours were highly
appreciated by his congregation, he resigned his charge. The Franklin
Street church, Boston, having then been organized, Mr. Rogers was called
to be its pastor : he accepted the call, and was installed on the 6th of August,
1835. In 1841, the Franklin Street church became the Central church, the
society having erected a new and beautiful place of worship.
Mr. Rogers' congregation greatly prospered and increased under his
ministry, but the amount of labour which devolved upon him, proved too
much for his somewhat delicate constitution. Being sensible that his health
was inadequate to the duties of the place, and being unwilling that the inte-
rests of his congregation should suffer on his account, he proposed to resign
his pastoral charge. His congregation immediately suggested, as a substi-
tute for this, the idea of a colleagueship ; and to this he gave his consent.
Accordingly, Mr. Greorge Richards of New London, Conn., then a Tutor in
Yale College, was invited to become associate pastor of the church ; and,
having accepted the call, was duly set apart as such, on the 8th of October,
1845.
In the latter part of the same month, Mr. Rogers, in company with his
intimate friend, Alpheus Hardy, Esq., sailed in the bark Justice Story,
bound for Gibraltar. There, after a rough and tedious passage, they dis-
embarked, and proceeded up the Mediterranean to Egypt and the Holy
Land, whence they returned by way of England; and embarking at Liver-
pool in the steamer Britania, reached Boston on the 3d of September, 1846.
On his return, he took up his residence at Harrison Square in Dorchester.
732 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
In January, 1848, Mrs. Rogers died, the victim of a complication of
disorders, — leaving an infant son which was baptized by Mr. Rogers' col-
league, on the day preceding her funeral, — its father presenting it with won-
derful composure over her lifeless body. This child survived its mother
less than a year, being the third which died in infancy. Two children, — a
son and a daughter survived their parents.
In the latter part of July, 1850, Mr. Rogers was attacked with erysipelas,
which lasted for some weeks. In March and April, 1851, he was partially
disabled by an affection of the thi'oat and a slow fever, from the combined
effects of which he never entirely recovered. In the early part of July, he
was seized with a severe head ache, which resisted all the remedies that
medical skill could suggest. He, however, preached once on the second
Sabbath in the month, and spoke at the Sabbath school concert of prayer
in the evening. The next day his physician pronounced his disease paralysis.
From this first attack, which affected one side and his speech, but left his
reason in the main undisturbed, he gradually rallied till Saturday, August
2d, when the other side also was paralyzed, and he was deprived of his
speech entirely. The next day, he made his will with great effort, by the
aid of signs, and of the letters of the alphabet on a card. From this second
shock, which left his mind, though weakened, still rational, he slowly and
very partially recovered, till Saturday the 9th, when his disease assumed
an apoplectic character and he sunk into a heavy sleep. His last act of
consciousness was a slight nod of seeming assent, at the close of a prayer
offered by his colleague at his bedside. He remained in this deep sleep,
with occasional struggles for breath, till Monday noon, August 11th, when,
in one of those struggles, he expired.
After funeral services at the residence of his uncle in Dorchester, his
remains were taken to the Central church in Boston, whence, — a funeral
sermon having been delivered by his colleague, they were removed to
Leominster, where they repose beside those of his wife and three children.
Mr. Rogers published a Sermon occasioned by the loss of the Harold
and the Lexington, 1840 ; an Address at the dedication of the new Hall of
Bradford Academy, 1841 ; a Sermon before the Massachusetts Home Mis-
sionary Society, 1850.
FROM THE REV. GEORGE RICHARDS.
Boston, August 23, 1854.
Rev. and dear Sir: You have asked me for some familiar sketches and impres-
sions of my late la.nented colleague. I wish I could set him before you, as he
survives in the memories of those who best knew and appreciated him. He was
above the medium height, slightly built, a little inclined to stoop, but quick and
decided in step and air. His hair was originally black and curly, his complex-
ion dark, his lips slightly parted when his countenance was at rest, but com-
pressed when it was in action. The glory of his face was his eye, — now mild
and winning as a child's, then sparkling with wit or dissolving into good
humour, then flashing with high emotion and firm resolve. It was the window
that disclosed the varied and conflicting qualities within. His voice was deep,
melodious, rather formal in its ordinary tones, but capable of softening into the
most persuasive, or rousing into the most commanding, utterance. He had the
presence so important to an orator, and what he said, borrowed not a little of its
impressiveness from his way of saying it. Not that he resorted to artifice, to
I
WILLIAM MATTICKS ROGERS. 733
studied tone and gesture, but that the true man was as visible in the manner as
in the matter.
There was a singular blending in him of gentleness and sternness — the former
the prevailing mood, the latter the occasional. When entirely off his guard, —
one of a little circle of intimate associates, he lent a charm to the hour by his
ready and graceful repartee, and the hearty good will that characterized him.
Yet in a high and stirring debate, on a council, in a public assembly, he would at
once take and maintain a prominent position and be a leader in the fray.
His habit of extemporaneous speaking, the extreme quickness with which he
could seize and improve an opportunity, his entire command over himself, his
good sense, his fearlessness, — all these made him a man for an emergency; and
he was often looked to, on the sudden failure of others, as certain to be able, and
likely to be willing, to occupj' their place. On one occasion, he preached accept-
ably to a large and intelligent congregation, when, till the singing of the hymn
preceding the sermon, the services of another had been relied upon — text, plan,
doctrine, improvement, all provided in that brief interval, or as he proceeded.
The simplicity and manliness of his character and of his early training, while
they disinclined him for the frigid etiquette and heartless formalities of society,
drew him toward Nature and her more rational enjoyments. He was an accom-
plished sportsman and angler, and to be abroad in the fields with his gun, or
aearching the seas with his line, was his delight. Perhaps traditionary recollec-
tions of his father, as well as daily intercourse with the uncle who had adopted
him, — both nautical men, tended to foster in him this taste for nautical pursuits.
At any rate, he was never more at home than M^hen cleaving the brine with his keel
and making draughts upon its treasures. He felt that he had apostolic precedent,
and availed himself of it. He was fond of quoting from John xxi. 3. " Simon
Peter saith unto him, I go a fishing. They say unto him, we also go with thee."
From these recreations he returned braced and invigorated, Avith a keener relish
and ampler capacities for the round of duty. He brought back with him a wis-
dom, not culled from the lore of books. At such times, and at all times, he wore
a native dignity that discouraged undue familiarity.
His religious principle exhibited itself, not as a foreign and separate element of.
character, but as the general regulator of the man, blending with all that was
constitutionally attractive, lending it a new loveliness, while it curbed and
restrained passions and impulses naturally headstrong and impetuous. It has
lately been my privilege to visit the people of his first charge. The elder portion
well remember him. They describe him essentially as he appeared on a wider
stage and with riper faculties; — the same generous magnanimity, the same ready
and pointed wit, the same boldness, promptness, and decision, the same forget-
fulness of self, the patience that could wait beside the sick bed, put up, without
a murmur, with the peevish irritability of disease, soothe and console when
others' endurance was exhausted, the tranquillizing tones of his voice, the charm
of his sympathizing eye, acting like an opiate on the unstrung nerves and disor-
dered sensibilities. But I must conclude. The more I recall my beloved and
revered associate, as he was in public and in private, the more I compare and con-
trast him with men in general, the deeper are my impressions both of his rare
excellence and his marked individuality.
Happy to do this little to forward your most important and fraternal under-
taking,
I am, very respectfully,
Your friend and servant,
GEORGE RICHARDS.
734 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
FROM THE REV. W. A. STEARNS, D. D.
Cambridgeport, August 24, 1854.
Dear Sir: You ask of me some recollections and impressions of the life and
character of my deceased friend, the Rev. William M. Rogers, late pastor of the
Central church, Boston.
T consider myself favoured in having enjoyed his warm and unbroken friend-
ship many years; for he was one of Nature's noblemen. We were providen-
tially brought together as fellow-boarders and room-mates, while members of
Phillips Academy in Andover, preparing for College. We entered the University
at Cambridge together, and, through the whole of our collegiate course, and a
portion of the time while studying Divinity at Andover, we shared the occu-
pancy of our rooms. This early intimacy, never interrupted even by temporary
estrangement, or any unkind word that I recollect on his part, was renewed and
perpetuated during our ministry, as far as circumstances would allow, to the day
of his death.
Mr. Rogers possessed many desirable and commanding qualities. His mind
was active, practical, comprehensive. He understood men and was not unskilled
in affairs. He had a powerful imagination, was a great general reader, and in
command of language has rarely been surpassed. Though capable of clear
reasoning, he was less adapted to produce logical convictions than popular
impressions.
Though a person of strong emotions, he had great self-possession. He was
never "overcome." Child-like, and undisguised, and ready to ask counsel, he
was yet self-reliant and independent. He usually formed his plans beforehand,
and then prosecuted them with unyielding determination. He had great cour-
age both moral and physical, when sure of being in the right; and, though of
tender feelings, he was not incapable of severity, which sometimes made the
author of a dishonourable action tremble.
As a Christian, he believed strongly and was ardent. The evangelical doc-
trines were dear to him, and he never flinched in their exposition. Frank,
decided, and determined, had he lived in other days, he might have won the
crown of martyrdom. At the same time, all religious seemings were abhorrent
to his nature, and a person who affected piety would find in hira no sympathy.
Though ready to go to the stake for Christ, he had no pleasure in that zeal which
outruns knowledge.
His spirit was genial, and his conversation often rich. He had a fine vein of
humour, and in expressive retort had few equals. One or two instances of this
kind occur to me. When at Townsend, while he bore the name of Kittle,
preaching one Sabbath on baptism, a parishioner not soundly orthodox on that
subject, met him next morning and said, " Well, Sir, 1 told our folks that the
Kittle boiled over yesterday." " I thought you looked as if you were scalt,"
was the instantaneous reply. On one occasion, having delivered a Temperance
lecture in a country school-house where many hard drinkers, attracted by his
celebrity, had assembled in a spirit of defiance, one of the inebriates turned
round, as the audience were leaving the house, and cried out, " Mr., can you tell
me the way to hell ? " " Yes," said Rogers, with a power of voice and manner
which those who knew him well can imagine, " Keep right on, Sir."
Though Mr. Rogers was earnest and often severe, he was yet eminently chari-
table in spirit, and was withal so frank, and honest, and honourable, that his
most caustic applications rarely gave more than momentary offence.
His pulpit powers were peculiar. His manner calm and dignified, his lan-
guage choice and singularly apt, his voice deep and oratund, his eye glowing
and piercing, he always secured the attention of his audiences, while here and
there an original turn, a brilliant thought, a pungent utterance, struck and
WILLIAM MATTICKS ROGERS. 735
entranced them. His discourses were generally unwritten, some of them entirely
extempore. I have heard him say that, once on the platform or in the pulpit, he
rarely had any diflBculty in finding words and thoughts for his hearers. If he
■was interested in a subject, you might be sure of his success in treating it.
On subjects of social and moral interest, he was conservative and decided,
but not afraid of judicious progress. On suitable occasions, he gave his opinion
of public affairs without reserve, and sometimes made himself obnoxious to the
more radical refprmers of the day.
His influence in Boston, and wherever known, was great. The community
looked upon him as a real man, — a man who understood himself and the peo-
ple,— a good man, — a man to be trusted.
There was deep mourning when the tidings of his death were announced. Not
only his own society who were inconsolable, but many of other denominations,
even those who differed from him materially in his religious views, and citizens
generally, bewailed his loss; and the numbers are not small who think, to this
day, that the place held in our community by William M. Rogers never can be
filled. With great respect and esteem,
I am, dear. Sir, yours most truly,
TT. A. STEARNS.
BELA BATES EDWARDS, D. D.=^
1831—1852.
Bela Bates Edwards was a descendant from Alexander Edwards, who
emigrated from Wales to this country in the year 1640. He was a son of
Elisha and Anne (Bates) Edwards, both of whom were distinguished for
their excellent sense, their sterling virtues, and earnest piety; and both
lived to exert their full influence in the education of this son. From his
earliest childhood, he evinced great sweetness of temper and a remarkable
fondness for books ; and while he inherited from his father much of sedate-
ness and caution, he also inherited from his mother a large share of vivacity
and quiet good humour.
At the age of fourteen, he began to prepare for College at the Academy
in Hadley ; and here he continued during the greater part of his prepara-
tory course : the last summer, however, he spent with his revered friend,
the Rev. Moses Hallock of Plainfield, Mass., who was distinguished as a
faithful and fatherly teacher. He entered Williams College in 1820, and
having remained there a twelve month, followed President Moore to
Amherst, where he was distinguished for his intense and successful applica-
tion to study, and was graduated with honour, in 1824, at the age of twenty-
two.
Though Mr. Edwards had, from his childhood, shown great sensibility
on the subject of religion, it was not till his Junior year in College that he
was brought practically to regard it as the paramount concern. His exer-
cises preparatory to a surrender of his heart to God were of the most
intense and overwhelming kind ; and, for ten successive days, it seemed as if
fierce billows were constantly going over him. Though he was soon brought
_ * Memoir by Professor Park.
736
TRI>fITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
to repose with some degree of hope and comfort in the provisions of the Gos-
pel, yet it was three years before he had gained sufficient confidence in the
genuineness of his experience, to feel warranted in making a public profes-
sion of his faith.
Nine months of the year after he was graduated he spent as Principal of
the Academy at Ashfield, Mass. In November, 1825, at the age of twenty-
three, he entered the Theological Seminary at Andover. Having remained
there a year, he was called to a Tutorship in Amherst College ; and for
two years, — from 1826 to 1828, — he fulfilled the duties of that oifice with
the utmost fidelity.
In the twenty-sixth year of his age, while he was yet a member of the
Andover Seminary, and a Tutor in Amherst College, so extensively and
favourably had he become known for his benevolent and Christian activity,
and for his well balanced and well cultivated mind, that several places of
commanding influence were proffered to him. On the 8th of May, 1828,
he was elected Assistant Secretary of the American Education Society ; and
about the same time was selected to become an Assistant Secretary of the
American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions. While he was
endeavouring to decide upon the comparative claims of these two Societies,
he was solicited to prepare himself for a Professorship in Amherst College.
Though there was much to render this latter place specially desirable to
him, he became satisfied, on the whole, that the greater field of usefulness
would be opened by the Secretariship of the Education Society ; and he
accordingly accepted it. His duties in this capacity were to edit the Quar-
terly Journal of the Society, to conduct the more important correspondence,
to superintend the arrangements of the Society's office, and occasionally to
visit the beneficiaries at the diffei'ent literary institutions.
On the 31st of May, 1828, Mr. Edwards entered upon the duties of his
new office. He then took up his residence at Andover, and in the autumn
resumed his connection with the Theological Institution. He performed the
labours of the Middle and Senior years at the Seminary, while he was acting
as Secretary of the Education Society. He seems subsequently to have
thought this an unwise course, and to have considered three years of
uninterrupted study a sufficiently short time in which to prepare for the
active duties of the ministry.
Mr. Edwards served the Education Society two years at Andover ; but,
in the summer of 1830', its office was removed to Boston; and from the
autumn of that year till the spring of 1836, — five years and six months,
his residence was in the city. He remained in the Secretariship five years,
and resigned the principal part of its duties in May, 1838. In 1850, he
was chosen one of the Directors of the Society, and continued such until he
was called from all earthly labours. He was licensed to preach by the
Suffolk South Association in 1831. On the 3d of November following, he
was married to Jerusha W., daughter of Charles E. Billings of Conway,
Mass. They had two children.
It was his labours as an Editor, as well as Seci-etary, that first drew
towards him public attention. While he was a Tutor at Amherst, he shared
in the editorial care of a weekly Journal, called the New England Inquirer.
He was afterwards occasionally employed in superintending the Boston
Recorder. From the autumn of 1828 until the spring of 1842, he retained
his editorial connection with the Quarterly Register and Journal of the
BELA BATES EDWARDS. 737
American Education Society. In 1833, he established the American
Quarterly Observer, which he continued for three years, when it was united
wifch the Biblical Repository, which, during the four preceding years, had
been conducted by Professor llobinson at Andover. He remained sole
editor of these combined periodicals from January, 1835, to January, 1838,
In 1844, he withdrew from the Repository, and became the principal editor
of the Bibliotheca Sacra and Theological Review ; and, with the exception
of two years, had the chief care of this work till 1852. In the year 1851,
the Biblical Repository was transferred fi'om New York to Andover, and
united with the Bibliotheca Sacra ; so that he was entrusted the second time
with that Review, which he had already done so much to sustain and adorn.
For twtnty-three years, he was immediately connected with our periodical
literature ; and, with the aid of several associates, he has left thirty-one
octavo volumes to witness to his glowing zeal and indefatigable industry in
this department.
In the spring of 1836, Mr. Edwards transferred his residence from Boston
to Andover, and, in the autumn of 1837, was appointed Professor of the
Hebrew Language in the Seminary. On the resignation of Mr. Stuart in
1848, he was elected to the chair of Biblical Literature, which devolved
upon him instruction in the Greek, as well as the Hebrew, Scriptures. In
this capacity he spent the last fifteen years of his life.
In 1844, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from
Dartmouth College.
He had had some symptoms of pulmonary disease as early as while he
was a Tutor in Amherst College, and at no subsequent pei'iod had he enjoyed
robust health; but, in 1845, the tendencies to this form of disease had ro
much increased, that it was thought that he should avail himself, for a while,
of a Southern climate. Accordingly, on the 6th of October, he left his
home for St. Augustine, Florida, remained there until the 4th of March,
1846, and, on the 22d of the next April, embarked, with his wife and one
of his two surviving children, for Liverpool. He landed on the British
shore. May 11, 1846, and returned to Andover, May 31, 1847. He tra-
velled in Great Britain, France, Switzerland, Germany, Holland, and Italy,
with his mind fully awake to every thing instructive or curious, beautiful or
grand, that came within his observation. He kept a minute journal of his
tour, the whole of which, if printed, would make a large octavo volume.
Dr. Edwards, after his return from Europe, resumed his duties as Pro-
fessor with his accustomed vigour, though it was evident that the malady,
which had occasioned the suspension of his labours, was by no means dis-
lodged from his system. He, however, apprehended no serious result ; but
kept on in his favourite work, eagerly accumulating materials for commen-
taries on the Scriptures. About a year before his death, he was assured
that his disease was, beyond all doubt, incurable ; but even then he found
it difficult to relinquish the hope of carrying out some of his favourite and
long cherished plans. He repaired to Athens in Georgia, in the autumn of
1851, in the hope that that milder climate might at least so far benefit him,
as to enable him to perfect some of his literary labours. But in this he
was disappointed, as he soon became too feeble for study. He continued
gradually to decline during the winter and spring, until the morning of the
19th of April, when a perceptible and decided change suddenly came over
him. The next day, at early dawn, about four hours before he died, it
Vol. IL 93
738 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
was announced to him that his end was near. Tho intelligence was unex-
pected, but he received it without any sign of agitation or murmur-
ing. When asked if all was peace, he answered with his wonted caution —
"So far as I can think, it is." In the full possession of his intellectual
faculties, he sent his love, his ardent love, to his old friends, expressed hisJ
perfect confidence in the Bible which had formed, in so great a degree, the
study of his life, and then gently fell into his last slumber. He died on
the 20th of April, 1852, in the fiftieth year of his age. On the evening of
the day after his death, there was a private funeral solemnity at Athens,
after which, his body was conveyed to Charleston, and thence to New York
and Andover. It reached his own house on the 29th of April, and was
interred the next day. As this took place during the vacation in the Semi-
nary, the funeral discourse was deferred until the 25th of Juno, when it
was preached by the ilev. Dr. Park. It was afterwards published.
The following is a list of Professor Edwards' publications: — A Tract on
American Slavery, 182G. Self-taught men, 1831. Missionary Gazetteer,
1832. Memoir of Dr. Cornelius, 1833. The Eclectic Reader, (compila-
tion,) 1835. Grecian and Roman Slavery, 1836. An Inaugural Address
at Andover, 1837. An Address on occasion of the death of President
Harrison, 1841. An Address at Mount Holyoke Female Seminary, 1841.
An Address at the Centennial celebration of the settlement ot Southamp-
ton, 1841. A Sermon before the Massachusetts Missionary Society, 1845.
A Sermon at the ordination of Daniel T. Fiske, 1847. An Oration before
the Theological Society of Dartmouth College, and the Unirersity of Ver-
mont, 1848.
He edited the following: — Memoir of Henry Martin, with an Introduc-
tion, 1831. American Quarterly Register, 14 volumes — from 1828 to
1842. American Quarterly Observer, 3 volumes — from 1833 to 1835.
Biblical Repository, 3 volumes — from 1835 to 1838. Bibliotheca Sacra, 8
volumes — from 1844 to 1852.
He translated in part the following : — Selections from German litei'ature,
1839. Classical Studies, 1843. Riihner's Greek Grammar, 1844.
FROM THE REV. GEORGE B. GHEEVER, D. D.
New York, May 22, 1854.
My dear Sir: — I wish I could send you something worthy of your work, your
subject, and my promise; but I am somewhat under the Vveather, and almost
like a stranded ship, not jloatable unless the cargo is unladed; and then the
object of the voyage not possible to be accomplished. If what may occur to me,
remindful or representative of our dear friend and brother, in the compass of a
few lines rapidly penned, will be of any possible use in your memorial, you may
do with it as you please.
I knew Professor Edwards with considerable intimacy, at intervals, during a
number of years, and roomed with him during a part of our theological course
at Andover. I rarely ever met with a man of such self-distrust, self-denial, self-
mortification, and humihty. Endeavouring continually and closely to walk with
God, he laboured to maintain a conscience void of oiFence, and was characterized
by great scrupulousness and tenderness of conscience, both towards God and
man. While lowly in his appreciation of himself, he had great admiration of
what was worthj' of regard in others: the sound injunction was exemplified, —
"In honour preferring one another." He succeeded, by the grace of God, in
disciplining himself into great deadness to the world, and yet no man had more
BELA BATES EDWARDS. 739
enthusiastic impulses in science or literature, or a keener sense and relish of
beauty, and loveHness, and all things that can be innocently and worthily enjoyed
in the world of nature and society. To a stranger he might seem reserved, cold,
and hermit-hke, in manner and character; yet not exactly cold, for there was
always an expressive gentleness and courteousness in his mien and address, that,
coming from the heart, attracted the heart, and could not be mistaken for indif-
ference. Still, a stranger would not have supposed that such depth and fire of
feeling and enthusiasm existed under so calm and guarded a demeanour. His
hatred of oppression, his ardour of sympathy for the oppressed, and his spirit
of freedom, were constant and fervent, — chastened always, yet not impeded nor
weakened, by a submissive piety. He sympathized deeply and strongly with
Howard and Clarkson, and the fire of religious philanthropy in his own soul was
such as would have carried him on through a course of sacrifice and toil similar
to theirs, with a zeal and indomitable energy unrivalled in any man's history,
if Divine Providence had so marked out his lot.
Now being turned aside, or rather restrained, from any such special mission,
(though so burning did his enthusiasm seem in some of these directions, that it
vvould not have been strange, at any time, to see him launched upon a like
career,) he still carried all this fervour of impulse and feeling, and all this almost
romantic self-devotion, into the quieter pursuits of sacred literature. His conse-
cration to the study of the Bible was not a mere professional assiduity or zeal,
but a combination of conscientiousness, heartfelt love, strong sense of duty,
excitement of imagination, and hallowed intellectual enthusiasm, very rarely
witnessed. With the same singular fire of spirit did he throw himself into the
dry and burdensome work of statistics, while engaged in behalf of the American
Education Society in connection with Dr. Cornelius, and especially while pub-
lishing the American Quarterly Register. Xever before was so much heart put
into figures: never before did any one light vip with such a glow of imagination
and of pious feeling the columns of bare facts and arithmetic; — everj'' deep array
and combination animated to the centre with patriotic Christian excitement. No
Napoleon with military millions to direct, could carry a more intense and anxious
care and genius into the tactics of vast armies, than he carried into the forma-
tion and charge of his phalanxes of instances, names, dates, truths, conclusions,
drawn out and concentrated with the utmost precision of statistical science, from
History, Biography, Geography, Political Econom}'. He could put benevolence
itself into the shape of a science, and yet keep it always inspired and irradiated
with the interest and power of love. Christian love. He could master and bend
all the plans and details of mere Socialism under an infinitely higher impulse,
and yet with more minute and personal application and success. His views
tended to the same grand generalizations, and at the same time individual and
national demonstrated responsibilities to God and man, as those of Professor
Arnold Guyot.
The Biography of Henry Martyn deeply affected him. I remember when he
was preparing his Introductory Essay to the new edition of the Life of that
remarkable Missionary, with what a fervid and almost angelic excitement he
was animated. It would not appear excitement to one Avho did not know him;
and indeed it was rather the deep and sober ecstacy of true religious feeling, than
mere excitement; yet his imagination acted powerfully in this way, and instan-
ces of the moral sublime roused him up to a ver}' strong degree of emotion. As
certain talismans, or watch-words, linked with great richness and power of asso-
ciation in certain minds, have a wonderful effect upon the imagination; as for
example, the words chaladnnrj, hermit, and even icoods, forests, in the mind of
John Foster, so particular instances of heroic devotion, and every high and
grand appeal in life and history to the love of Christ, operated as a creative call
to his imacrination as well as his heart. It was as the roll of the drum on the
•740 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
eve of battle. I remember too what power the sublime paper of Jeremiah
Evarts, presented to the American Board, (tlie last thing before he died,) on the
Moral Destiny of the United States, had upon his mind. The prospects of the
Redeemer's Kingdom, the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that is to be
revealed, brooded upon his mind with great power continually. Suffering and
glory were two ideas closely and grandly connected, and there was something
approximating to a martyr's enthusiasm in the manner in which he would
address himself to the daily business of his life for Christ. Meantime his indus-
try and power of application were prodigious, and never seemed to degenerate
into mere task-work, but every thing was enlivened and sanctified by the word
of God and prayer.
If I had leisure, I could easily fill another sheet with remembrances of his fine
and cultivated tastes, his love of poetry, (Wordsworth was one of his very spe-
cial favourites, though Milton and the elder poets were the subjects of ftimiliar
study,) his discriminating view of men and their pursuits, his exquisite gentle-
ness, kindness, and patience, — his sweet character indeed in every way, social,
mental, moral, and religious. But I said I must restrict myself to a few lines,
and I am absolutely obliged to adhere to my purpose. I can only throw these
hasty memorials upon your forbearance, Avith sincere regret that they dq .so little
justice to the memory of one of the most gifted and excellent of men.
Most truly and faithfully yours,
GEORGE B. CHEEVER.
FROM THE REV. HORATIO B. HACKETT, D. D.,
PROFESSOR IN THE NEWTON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY.
Newton Centre, June 24, 1856.
Dear Sir: I first knew Mr. Edwards personally at Amherst College, where he
was the Tutor of my class in a portion of the Latin and Greek studies during the
Freshman year. He acquitted himself well in that office. Though he once
remarked to me (so characteristic of him) that he could never suffer his
thoughts to revert, with any patience, to that period of his life, because he felt
so dissatisfied with it, yet I can testify that he won to himself the entire respect
of his pupils. I never heard from the lips of the most frivolous among them,
the slightest expression of disrespect towards him as a teacher or a man; a com-
pliment, certainly, that can be paid to very few of those who are called to occupy
this somewhat diflBcult position. For myself, I have always remembered him
as one of the best of ray early instructers. He was distinguished at this time
for the same modesty and propriety of manner, the same love of accuracy, the
same good taste and power of apt expression, which were so conspicuous in him
in his riper manhood.
But my more particular acquaintance with Professor Edwards commenced at a
later period. He entered on his labours in the Seminary at Andover about the
same time that I entered on mine in the Seminary at Newton. His department
of study was the same as mine; and the community of our pursuits, aided by
the circumstance of our proximity to each other, soon led to a renewal of our
earlier acquaintance and to an intimacy of association which continued until the
time of his death. For several years before that event, I was in the habit of
seeing him with great frequency, of visiting him in his family, of corresponding
iv^ith him, and conferring with him freely on the various subjects and studies
which would naturally awaken a common interest between us. T feel, therefore,
that I enjoyed a good opportunity for becoming acquainted with the character of
his mind, and with the nature and extent of his acquisitions.
In speaking of him as a teacher, I ought first of all to mention his striving to
be exact in his knowledge, his dxpi/Sei'a, his endeavour to teach what he taught
with critical precision, and to train his pupils to that method of study. Allied
BELA BATES EDWARDS. 741
to this quality, or rather an effect and manifestation of it, was his ingenuousness,
his clear perception of what he knew, or what the nature of the subject allowed to
be known, and his extreme solicitude not to transcend the limits of his knowledge
in the opinions which he advanced. His caution kept him from offending often
against this rule. But if it happened at any time, he was not restrained by a false
pride from confessing his error. " I make it a point," he said to me, '* if I perceive
I have committed a mistake in the class, to acknowledge and correct it, the next
time I meet them; and I consider this due to truth, as well as the best way in the
end to gain their confidence." As this trait of his character was well known, as
he did not allow himself to speak at random, but made up his opinions with delibei^
ation and conscientiousness, it gave so much the greater value to his instructions.
It was felt that his teachings were reliable ; that one might safely follow such a guide.
He may not have possessed so much power as some more impassioned teacliers, to
arouse the dormant energies of a certain class of young men, but he had a rare
faculty for lodging information in the minds of those who are awake in their
studies, who have a desire to be taught, and feel that they have something more
to do in their education, than simply to acquiesce in the efforts of others for their
improvement. His popularity was greatest — a teacher's best criterion — with
the more discerning, the choice men of a class. His manner in the lecture-room
was mild and conciliatory, his utterance deliberate, his language simple, or so
fitly chosen as to convey his ideas almost with the force and precision of apo-
thegms. I can now recollect distinctly from my college days not a few of his
remarks on passages in the classics, not merely the things said, but the words
emploj-^ed hy him, the tone and look with which he spoke. His crowning excel-
lence as a theological teacher was, that he entertained so childlike a confidence
in the Scriptures as the word of God, and could unfold their meaning with the
moral power which can spring only from that conviction. It was this view of
the Sacred Oracles, their character as the only authoritative source of our know-
ledge on religious subjects, that rendered him so anxious to ascertain the exact
sense of what the Bible teaches, and so earnest to inspire others with the same
feeling.
An able interpreter of the Scriptures must possess, to say nothing of the
moral requisites, two distinct classes of qualifications; they may be distinguished
as the acquired and the natural. Among the former are to be ranked the philo-
logical attainments which lie at the foundation of all Biblical scholarship. Mr.
Edwards attained here an unquestionable eminence. He may not have possessed
what is called an original passion for the study of languages; but he applied
himself to them with singular earnestness of purpose; and being aided in the
pursuit by a vigorous mind and a memory of more than ordinary tenacity, he
accomplished results which were honourable to himself and to the literary fame
of the country. His merit as a classical scholar is well known. He laid the
foundation of his excellence here in early youth, and continued to build upon it
as long as he lived. His undertaking the translation of Kiihner's Grammar, in
the midst of so many other cares, shows how anxious he was to extend and perfect
his knowledge in this direction. I know it to have been a jjart of his routine of
private study, to read a portion of Greek every day. How much he contributed,
by his example and his advocacy of the claims of classical learning, to maintain
and extend an interest in such learning, is known to every one who has observed
the course of public opinion on this subject for the last ten or fifteen years. The
friends of the Latin and Greek classics owe to him a debt of gratitude for this
service, which will not soon be forgotten.
His main study at first, on assuming his labours at Andover, (being associa-
ted with Professor Stuart, who relieved him from the work of interpretation,)
was the Hebrew, or rather the perfecting of himself in HebreAV and the cognate
dialects. His knowledge of the language of the Old Testament was remarkably
^^42 TlilMTAlilAN CONGREGATIONAL.
exact: he was at home in all its details. I doubt whether any teacher in this
country has ever surpassed liini as a grammarian. Gentlemen of competent
judgment who attended his public examinatii)MS spoke of them in terms of
admiration. It must have l»cen a dull student who, at the end of the first year,
or the lirst term even, could not have readily distinguished a Quamets from a
Quamets Hhatuph, — which used to be Professor Stuart's test for judging of a
man's proficiency in Hebrew. In the devotions of his family when I was pre-
sent, h& was accustomed to read out of the Hebrew Bible; and 1 presume he
could read it, during many of the last years of his life, without dilficulty, ad
ftpertaram libri. The perusal of the Psalms and of Job in the original, as his
friends are aware, constituted one of his means of refreshment for mind and
spirit during the hours of sickness and languor which preceded his death. He
was of the opinion that the subject of Hebrew grammar may be very mucli sim-
plified beyond what has been done in any existing treatise, and he was design-
ing, at some future day, to prepare a work which should supply this deficiency.
He was abundantly qualified for the task, and would have performed it in such
a manner as to deserve the tlianks of all Hebrew scholars.
Almost simultaneously with this vigorous prosecution of the Hebrew, he took
up the stud}^ of Arabic under the guidance of a missionary returned from the
East; and unlike many who contmence it, he persevered iu it, until, at the end
of a few years, he wrote to a friend of mine that he had read through the Koran
in that language from beginning to end. He thought at one time of publishing
the outline of an Arabic Grammar; he had made such preparations for this pur-
pose, that he could have performed the remaining labour in a few weeks. He
relinquished the idea from an apprehension that such a work was not yet needed
among us. Yet in his published notes on Isaiah and Nahum, and in his various
articles relating to Biblical subjects, the reader meets with hardly a single word
or an allusion from which he Avould infer that the author had given any atten-
tion to this branch of Oriental learning, and still less, that he had devoted to it
so many years of exhausting toil. "What German scholar, or what other man, 1
maj' almost ask, could have had such resources at his command, and yet have
so refrained from the use of them .'' Those who knew Mr. Edwards know well
the cause of this singular self-denial; it was not that he saw no opportunity of
employing his knowledge with effect, but that he shunned it, — that he shrunk
(too sensitively) from any thing that might look like an ostentatious display of
his learning. His study of the book of Daniel (into which he went very fully)
made him familiar with the Chaldee of the Bible; ho taught it repeatedly to his
classes. He made the Syriac, also, a subject of some attention: but I am not
able to say to what extent he pursued it.
His devotion to ancient learning did not lead him to neglect the modern lan-
guages and their literature. He made up his mind at an early day, that no ont
can be a respectable .scholar in philology, unless he has mastered the German;
and with this conviction he re.solved to study it, until, as he once expressed him
self to me, he could read any ordinary German book with as much ease as he
could read a book in English. This facility he attained; and for several years
was accustomed to read quite as much in German as in his own language.
"When we remember that ho accomplished this in the solitude of his study, that
he drew his knowledge from the grammar and lexicon, without having enjoyed
to anj' great extent an opportunity to speak the German or to hear it spoken, it can-
not but increase so much the more our admiration of his talents and perseverance.
He found time to add the French, also, to the list of his acquisitions, and dur-
ing his visit to Rome, in 1843, applied himself tothe study of the Italian.
It thus appears that our friend was more or less acquainted (if we include the
mother tongue in which he .so much excelled) with some ten or more diflferent
languages. It is not meant that he was expert in all of them; for no one who
BELA BATES EDWARDS. 743
has any just idea of this sort of scholarship will expect of a man impossibili-
ties. It is not in general creditable to a person to be known as having occupied
himself with a great variety of languages; for in the majority of such cases it
may be inferred with much certainty, that the individual has dissipated his pow-
ers, and learned very little to any good purpose. What I mean to say is. that
Professor Edwards had drawn the several languages referred to within the circle
of his studies, that he possessed superior skill in some of them, and was suffi-
ciently acquainted with all of them to make them subservient to his usefulness
in his profession. He would have taken a high rank as a philologist in any coun-
try. How few among us have a better claim to that title! Whose knowledge
has extended over a wider field, and been at the same time equally accurate ?
Who liave treasured up such ample stores of learning, while they have per-
formed so much other labour, sufficient of itself to engross the time and strength
of ordinary men ?
But a Biblical critic needs certain other qualifications, which no mere skill in
philology can bestow; which must be born in some sense with the individual,
and inhere in his mental organization, though culture may modify and improve
them. Language, considered simph^ as a matter of grammar, presents to the
interpreter many unavoidable ambiguities; and to solve these, to ascertain the
one definite meaning which the writer intended to express, the interpreter must
be able to penetrate through the language to the mind of the writer, must gain
his point of view, see and feel the subject, as far as this may be possible, as the
writer himself saw and ft4t it. It is only by this faculty of perceiving the con-
gruities of a subject, of reproducing another's train of thought in his own mind,
that the student of a foreign language can settle many questions in interpreta-
tion,— that he can decide which of various possible ideas must be the true idea.
The cast of mind necessary for performing this process I .should ascribe to Pro-
fessor Edwards in a high degree. He possessed a good judgment, comprehen-
siveness of mind, tact for seizing upon the main thought, facility in transferring
himself to the position of the writer Mhose mind he would interpret. He had
imagination and taste, could sympathize with the sacred writers as religious
poets, and was not the man to confound a figure of speech with a dogma or a
logical proposition. I venture to affirm that, had he lived to write a commen-
tary on the Psalms, or a treatise on the genius of Hebrew poetry, such as he was
capable of producing, he would have given to the world a performance of stand-
ard value; he would have brought to the task as large a share of the qualifica-
tions of a Lowth or a Herder as any man (that I know of) connected with sacred
criticism, who has appeared in our countrJ^ Yet, with all this subjective power,
he was free from extravagance, loved the simple in interpretation, rejected sub-
tilties and conceits, and insisted that the word of God should be explained with
a proper regard to the analogy of Scripture and the dictates of a sound common
sense. With the utmost respect and esteem,
Most sincerely yours,
II. B. IIACKETT.
744 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
DAVID PEABODY.^*
1831—1839.
David Peabody, the youngest sou of John and Lydia Peabody, was
born at Topsfield, Mass., April 16, 1805. He was employed more or less
upon his father's farm till he was fifteen or sixteen years of age ; but as
his physical constitution was thought to be not well suited to agricultural
life, and as his early tastes were more than ordinarily intellectual, and ho
had a strong desire for a collegiate education, Lis father consented to gratify
him ; and, in the spring of 1821, he commenced the study of Latin at Dum-
mer Academy, Bytield. The same year, his thoughts were earnestly directed
to the great subject of his own salvation ; though he did not feel so much
confidence in the genuineness of his religious exercises as to make a public
profession of his faith until three years afterwai'ds. In 1824, he united
with the Congregational church in his native place, and in the autumn of
the same year, joined the Freshman class in Dartmouth College.
During his collegiate course, he taught school in the winter as a means of
defraying his college expenses, and continued his studies at the same time,
60 as to maintain his standing in his class ; but, in doing so, he overtasked
his naturally feeble constitution, and thus prepared the way for much future
debility and sutfering. He was graduated in 1828, on which occasion he
was appointed to deliver the Valedictory Oration.
After spending a few weeks in recruiting his health at his father's, ho
became, for a short time, assistant editor of the New Hampshire Observer,
at Portsmouth ; but before the close of 1828, he entered the Theological
Seminary at Andover. In the spring of 1829, he accepted an invitation to
take charge of a Young Ladies' Select School at Portsmouth ; but, in the
autumn of 1830, his declining health obliged him to relinquish it, and to
seek a Southern residence. He went to Prince ICdward County, Virginia,
and secured a situation as teacher in an excellent family, — that of Dr. Mor-
ton, and at the same time entered the Union Theological Seminary, of which
the Kev. Dr. John II. llice was the founder and principal Professor. He
remainc<l in the family of Dr. Morton till he had completed the prescribed
course of study, and was licensed to preach by the West Hanover Presby-
tery in April, 1831 ; after which, he supplied the church at Scottsville for
six months. So acceptable were his services, tliat the congregation would
gladly have retained him as their pastor ; but, as he preferred a Northern
residence, he declined all overtures for a settlement, and returned to New
England, with his health much improved, in 1832. In November of the
same year, he was ordained pastor of the First church in Lynn, Mass. In
September, 1834, he was married to Maria, daughter of Lincoln Brigham,
then of Cambridge, but formerly of Southborough, Mass. In January,
1835, he w"as attacked with a severe hemorrhage, which greatly reduced his
strength, and obliged him for a season to intermit his labours. Finding that
the East winds were injurious to him, and that it would be unsafe for him
to continue his residence any longer upon the sea-coast, he reluctantly came
to the determination to resign his pastoral charge, with a view of seeking
• AVorccster pulpit. — ilS. from Rev. D. L. Furber
»
DAVID PEABODT. 745
an inland home, when his health should be sufficiently recruited to justify
him in resuming the stated duties of the ministry.
Accordingly, in the spring of 1(S35, he was dismissed, after which he spent
some time in travelling for the benefit of his health, — at the same time act-
ing as au agent for the Massachusetts Sabbath School Society. His health
now rapidly improved, and on the 15th of July succeeding his dismission,
ho was installed as pastor of the Calvinist church in Worcester.
The change of climate seemed, for a time, highly beneficial, and had begun
to induce the hope that his health might become fully established ; but, in
the winter of 1S35-36, he was prostrated by another attack of hemorrhage,
which again clouded his prospects of ministerial usefulness. In the spring
of 1836, his health had so far improved that he resumed his ministerial
labours and continued them through the summer ; but, in September, his
symptoms again became more unfavourable, and he determined, in accord-
ance with medical advice, to try tlie efl'cct of a sea voyage and a winter in
the South. Accordingly, he sailed in November for New Orleans ; and, on
arriving there, decided on going to St. Francisville, a village on the Missis-
sippi, lying North of New Orleans about a hundred and seventy miles.
Here he remained during the winter, preaching to both the white and
coloured population, as his strength would allow. In the spring, he returned
to his pastoral charge, with his health considerably invigorated. He
laboured pretty constantly, though not without much debility, until the suc-
ceeding spring, (1838,) when he found it necessary again to desist from his
labours, and take a season of rest. In company with a friend, he journeyed
through a part of Vermont and New Hampshire ; and on reaching Hanover,
the day after Cnmmenccmeut, was surprised to learn that he had been
appointed Professor of llhetoric in Dartmouth College. Conscious of his
inability to meet any longer the claims of a pastoral charge, and hoping that
his health might be adequate to the lighter duties of a Professorship, he
could not doubt that the indications of Providence were in favour of his
accepting the appointment. He did accept it ; and, shortly after, resigned
his charge at Worcester, amidst many expressions of afi"ection and regret on
the part of his people, and in October following entered on the duties of
his Professorship.
The change of labour proved highly beneficial ; and, during the winter of
1838-39, he enjoyed a degree of health which he had not known for many
previous years. In March, he was so much encouraged in respect to himself
that he remarked to a friend that he thought God would indulge the
cherished wish of his heart, and permit him again to labour as a minister.
But another cloud quickly appeared in his horizon, which proved ominous
of the destruction of all his earthly hopes. In April following, he sufi"ered
from an attack of pleurisy, which was followed by lung fever; and, though
he so far recovered as to be able to attend to his college duties till the Sep-
tember following, it became manifest to all that his disease was, on tlie whole,
advancing towards a fatal termination. He died at the age of thirty-four
years and six mouths, on the 17th of October, 1839. His last days were
rendered eminently tranquil by the blessed hopes and consolations of the
Gospel. His funeral sermon was preached by the Rev. Dr. Lord, President
of Dartmouth College, and was published. He left no children.
Mr. Peabody's published works are a brief Memoir of Horace Bassett
Morse, 1830 ; a Discourse on " the conduct of men considered in contrast with
Vol. II. 94
74G TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
the law of God," 1836; a Scrmou on the sin of Covetousncss, considered
in respect to iuteiuperance, Indian oppression, slavery, &c., 1838; the
Patriarch of Hebron, or the History of Abraham, (posthumous,) 1841.
FROM THE REV. SAMUEL G. BROWN, D. D.
Dartmouth College, July 25, 185G.
My dear Sir: It gives me great pleasure to send you my impressions of Pro-
fessor Peabody, though others ooukl write with more authority. 1 knew
him in College, when he was my Senior. lie belonged to a class of great excel-
lence, and was honourably distinguished throughout his college course for general
scholarship, diligence, fidelity, and great weight of jjersonul influence in favour of
all things " excellent and of good report." His character was mature and his
mind already well disciplined when he entered the class, and education had per-
haps less to accomplish for him in the matter of elegant culture, than for almosi
any one of his associates. Hence there was not the same conspicuous progress iu
him as in some others. Yet at the time of graduation he stood among the first,
as is indicated by the fact that he was the orator of one of the Literary Societies,
and was selected by the Faculty to deliver the Valedictory oration at Commence-
ment. In every department of study he was a good scholar, — in the classical,
moral, and rhetorical departments, pre-eminent. As a preacher, though not bril-
liant, he was always acceptable, and distinguished for a certain fulness and har-
mony of style, justness in the exposition of doctrine, and weight of exhortation.
He was prudent without being timid, and zealous without being rash; eminently
practical, though possessing a love of ideal beauty, and a cultivated and sensitive
taste, and as far removed from formalism on the one side as from fanaticism on
the other. Dignified and courteous in manner, he was highly respected by all
his acquaintances, and while a pastor, greatly esteemed and beloved by his people.
His fine natural qualities were marred by few blemishes, and his religious char-
acter was steadily and constantly developed year by year. Grave, sincere, earnest,
he went about his labours as one mindful of his responsibility, and as seen under
his " great Task-master's eye." Indeed his anxieties outran his strength, and
he was obliged to leave undone much that was dearest to his hopes. The disease
to which he finally yielded had more than once " weakened his strength in the
way," before he was finally prostrated by it. The conset[uent uncertainty of life
had perhaps imparted to him more than usual seriousness, and a deep solicitude
to work while the day lasted. lie performed the duties of a Professor in College
but a single year, and that with some interruptions. No better account of the
general impression of his fife on those who knew him best, can be given than in
the language of a sermon preached at his funeral by the Rev. Dr. Lord.
" What his private papers show him to have felt in the presence of his God,
was made evident also in his social and official intercourse. Intelligent, grave,
dignified; conscientious in all his relations, from the student upwards to the
teacher, the pastor, the professor; nothing empty as a scholar, nothing unsettled
or inconsistent as a Divine, nothing vague or groundless as an instructer; sincere,
generous, honourable, devout; keenly sensitive in respect to the proprieties and
charities of life; warm in his affections, strong in his attachments, stern in his
integrity; above the arts of policy, the jealousies of competition, the subserviency
of party spirit, and simply intent upon serving God, in his own house, and in all
his official ministrations, he was one of the few who are qualified to be models
for the young, ornaments to general society, and pillars in the Church of God."
Hoping, dear Sir, that this hasty and imperfect sketch may be of some trifling
service in commemorating a good man, who deserves something much better,
I am very truly your obedient friend and servant,
S. G. BROWN.
AVID PEABODY. 747
FROM THE REV. JOHN NELSON, D. D.
Leicester, July 23, 1S56.
My dear Sir: My personal acquaintance with the Rev. Mr. Peabody was limited
to the period during which he was the pastor of the Central church in Worcester.
While he held that office, 1 had, 1 may say, an intimate, — certainly a most happy,
acquaintance with him. T often saw him in his own house, and often received him
as a Welcome guest in mine. I often met him in the Association to which we
both belonged and in Ecclesiastical councils.
I remember him as having a rather tall and commanding figure, and a benign
countenance, beaming with intelligence, especially when engaged in convtirsation.
This appearance, however, was modified by constant ill health. No one could be
with him without receiving the impression that he was a scholar, as well as a deep
and accurate thinker.
The few sermons which I heard him read, or deliver from the pulpit, were of a
high order; — distinguished for both accuracy of style and power of thought. They
were clear, methodical, and highly eloquent. It was my own impression, and I
know it was the impression of some of his most distinguished hearers, that he
was among the best preachers of his time. In Ecclesiastical councils, he was
shrewd, discerning, and wise. As a friend, he was always reliable. His moral
character was no>. only high, but well balanced, and marred by no inconsistencies.
It is presumed that no one will dissent from the statement that, during the
few years he was in ^^orcester, by his intelligence, his manly virtues, his kind-
ness of heart, his active labours for the advancement of Christ's Kingdom, and his
ability as well as faithfulness as a preacher, he greatly commended himself, not
only to the people of his immediate charge, but to the whole community in which
he laboured. Affectionately yours,
JOHN NELSON
SAMUEL MUNSON.^
1832—1834.
AND
HENRY LYMAN. ^
1832—1834.
These two individuals were so identified in their labours, and especially
in their deaths, that there seems to be good reason why the notices of both
should be included in the same article.
Samuel Munson was the son of Samuel D. and Betsey L. Munson, and
was born in New Sharon, Me., on the 23d of March, 1804. His parents,
as long as they lived, were very attentive to his religious training ; but, at
the age of ten, he lost them both. After this, however, he found a home
in the family of a friend, where, by his amiable temper and correct behavi-
our, hi' rendered himself a great favourite. Among his youthful companions
he had a great reputation for frankness and manliness ; and was regarded,
* Missionary Heroes and Martyrs.— Missionary Herald.
743 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
not only by thciu, but by his teachers, as a model of good conduct. At
the age of nineteen, he was hopefully brought under the saving power of
the (jrospel, and, in September, 1823, was admitted a member of the church.
He was now exercised with a strong desire to enter the ministry, and to
spend his life as a missionary among the Heathen. But he had not the pecu-
niary means for accomplishing this object ; and if he attempted it, he must
depend on his own ciforts, or the charity of his friends or the church, or on
both combined. He was received under the patronage of the Maine Branch
of the Education Society ; but so limited were its funds that the amount
thus furnished was very inadequate to meet his necessary expenses. One
friend lent him books ; another gave him instruction ; while part of his
time was spent in teaching a common school, and part in labouring on a
farm. At length he became a member of Bowdoin College ; but his whole
collegiate life was an uninterrupted struggle with pecuniary embarrassments.
As a scholar, he was distinguished more for patience, diligence, and accuracy,
than for either facility or brilliancy ; but his judgment was so correct, his
principles so pure, his deportment so exemplary, and his spirit so philan-
throphic and devout, that all who knew him, respected him ; and all who
knew him intimately, regarded him with strong affection.
He graduated in 1829, and, immediately after, entered tlie Theological
Seminary at Andover. Here he prosecuted his studies with great zeal and
thoroughness, not confining himself, by any means, to the prescribed routine,
but endeavouring to enrich his mind from every department of knowledge
within his reach. His general sobriety, discretion, and devotion to the
cause of Christ, at this period, are happily illustrated by the following just
and discriminating remarks which he made in regard to his personal rela-
tions to the Missionary cause : —
"There is a novelty connected with tlie missionary life, — a voyage across the ocean,
a tour perhaps amonj; the ruins of ancient Greece, or a visit to the land which was the
theatre of our Saviour's mission, and the city over wliieli lie wept; or i)erliaps an
abode in some remote, yet beautiful islund in tlie Pacilic, where nature has lent all
her charms to give elegance and enchantment to her luxuries: such prosi>ects.counected
with the success that has attended the missionary effort, and the urgent call for more
labourers, have at times so wrought upon my feelings that I have thought I could stay
here no longer. Yet such a spirit is as dili'erent from the true missionary spirit as
ligiit from darkness. It would wither before toils and sufferings, like the blighted
blossom in the noon-day sun. It is the ardour of youtli, instead of tlie spirit of
Christ. It is a creature of self, instead of that wliich seeketh not- her own. Such
feelings then must be banished.
'' It is sometimes supposed that if an individual has a willingness or desire to devote
himself to the nnssionary work, it is of course his duty. If he could be satisfied that
tlie desire originated from the special providence of God, he might safely yield to it.
If an inclination to become a missionary is of itself suflicient evidence of "duty, then
the want of such an inclination will, witii e<iual certainty, excuse one. But it is often
gaid to theological students — • Vou dare not examine the subject, lest yon should be
convinced that it is your duty to go to tlie Heathen.' There can be no doubt there are
ministers settled in New England, who, had they imitartially examined tiie subject,
would now have been in Heathen lands; and ])erhaps others among the Heathen, had
they done the same, would now have been in New England. Not tliatawarm attach-
ment to missions is to be disregarded; but it is not of itself a satisfactory evidence of
duty."
Mr. Munson's own choice of the foreign field was made with great delib-
eration, and with the fullest conviction that all the leadings of Providence
were in favour of it. On leaving Amlovcr in 18.32, he spent the greater
part of a year at Boston and Brunswick in the study of medicine. He was
ordained at Orleans, Me., October 10, 1832. Early in the summer of 1833,
he was married to Abbie, daughter of Col. Jacob Johnson of Brunswick,
SAMUEL MUNSON AND UENRY LYMAN. 749
preparatory to embarking for the East. From this time his fortunes were so
blended with those of his colleague, Lyman, that it seems desirable here to
introduce a brief narrative of Lyman's life, previous to the period that they
became united in their missionary labours.
Henry Lyman was the son of Theodore Lyman, and was born at North-
ampton, Mass., on the 23d of November, 1809. While he was very young
he was the subject of a dangerous illness, during which his father solemnly
dedicated him to God, and resolved that, if his life should be spared, he
would educate him for the ministry. He did recover, and his father's reso-
lution was not forgotten. He was religiously educated, but gave no partic-
ular evidence, at that period, of being religiously inclined. In obedience
to the wish of his father, but contrary to his own, he entered on a course of
classical study, and in due time became a member of Amherst College.
Here, in the early part of his course, he showed himself not only destitute
of any true sense of religion, but distinguished for pvofaneness and impiety.
During a revival of religion in College, in 1827, which, at its commence-
ment, he opposed with bitter earnestness, he became hopefully a subject of
renewing grace. From this time, there was a great change manifest in his
whole character — he showed as much ardour in the way of holiness, as he
had done before in the way of sin; and, though he had formed habits of
mental dissipation which it was not easy to eradicate, he endeavoured, by
diligent application, to subject his mind to those severer and more orderly
processes, which are essential either to extensive acquisitions or thorough
culture.
Mr. Lyman was graduated in the year 1829, having, while yet a member
of College, had his mind more or less exercised on the question whether it
was not his duty to devote himself to the work of foreign missions. Shortly
after his graduation, he entered the Theological Seminary at Andover, and
became a member of the same class with Mr. Munson. Here, as the result
of much inquiry, and reflection, and reading, on the subject, he matured the
purpose of spending his life among the Heathen. He accordingly offered
liim.self to the American Board, as a missionary to South Eastern Asia, and
was accepted, jointly with Mr. ^Munson. He was ordained at Northampton,
October, 11, 1832, President Humphrey preaching the ordination sermon.
He was married at Boston, on the 16th of May, 1833, to Eliza, daughter
of Nathan and Deborah Pond. The family, at the time of her birth, resided
in Keene, N. H.
These two young men were directed to proceed to Batavia, and thence to
explore Pulo Nias, an island West of Sumatra ; and to extend their obser-
vations, if possible, to the Battas in the Northern part of Sumatra, and to
penetrate into Amboyna, Timor, and Borneo. They sailed from Boston on
the 10th of June, 1833, and in a hundred and three or four days were landed
safely at Batavia, and cordially welcomed by Mr. Medhurst, the well known
missionary of the London Missionary Society.
Immediately after their arrival, they began the study of Malay, and Mr.
Munson began the Chinese. Mr. Lyman was almost immediately rendered
exceedingly anxious on account of his wife's being seriously threatened with
pulmonary disease ; and scarcely was he relieved by the disappearance of
her alarming symptoms, brfore he received the melancholy tidings of the
death of his father.
750 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
They were not able at once to address themselves to the ulterior objects
of their mi.-sion, from the neces.sity tliey were under of gaining the concur-
rence of the government, — no foreigner being permitted to reside or travel
within the jurisdiction of the Dutch East India Company, without an
express permission. While they were thus delayed, they occupied them-
selves in distributing tracts, administering to the sick, and occasionally
preaching on board ships, as well as relieving Mr. Medhurst in the services
of his chapel. Having, at length, procured the necessary papers, they left
Batavia in April, 1834, — never to return. The day before their departure,
which was the Sabbath, they joined in the celebration of the Lord's Supper,
with a few others, in Mr. Medhurst's chapel ; and, as they were leaving the
place, Mr. Munson intimated to his wife that he was not improbably about
to take his final leave of her and of their infant son ; but he still remained
inflexible in the purpose to go forward.
They set sail in a bark on the 7th of April, having on board ninety souls,
speaking twelve different languages. On their way. they stopped at several
ports and islands, endeavouring to gain all the information they could in
respect to the character and pursuits of the inhabitants, especially the Nyas,
to whom, by the instructions of the Board, they had been more particularly
directed. They also distributed tracts to the Malays and Chinese, and
conversed with the people, as far their limited knowledge of the language
would permit. On their arrival at Nyas, they found that there were civil
commotions prevailing in the island, which gave little promise of success to
missionary labour at that time ; though several of the Rajahs professed to
regard the proposed mission with favour.
From Nyas they passed on to Tappanooly, where they arrived on the
17th, after a journey attended with manifold difficulties and hardships.
Having stopped here a few days, they set out on the 23d, to explore the
Batta country, with guides, interpreters, and servants, making in all a com-
pany of fourteen. On the second night after their departure, they enjoyed
the hospitality of a Rajah, who seemed to think that their journey might be a
perilous one, and offered to send forward and ascertain the dispositions of
the people, that they might be able the better to judge whether it would be
safe for them to proceed : they, however, declined the proposal, from a full
confidence that they should not be molested in accomplishing so peaceabb-
an errand. They went on their way, passing over steep hills, and througli
abrupt ravines, covered with thick forests ; and, though the people of the
villages sometimes treated them rudely, there was nothing to indicate any
intentions of personal violence. But, on the '28th, a scene suddenly opened
upon them, fitted to occasion the greatest alarm. They found themselves
within an hundred yards of a fort, occupied by armed men ; and, while their
interpreter went forward to parley with the garrison, a hostile company of
about two hundred persons surrounded them witli every threatening demon-
stration. The servants, seeing tlic danger, threw down their baggage and
made their escape ; and the interpreter, with one servant, who accompanied
him, escaped also ; while the missionaries remained, casting away the arms
they had taken to defend themselves against wild beasts, in token of their
having no other than peaceable intentions. Their interpreter having fled,
it wa^ impossible that they should explain, and notwithstanding their signi-
ficant and pleading gestures, the rabble proceeded to do their murderous
work. Mr. Lyman fell by a musket shot ; Mr. Munson was pierced throng*
SAMUEL MUNSON AND HENRY LYMAN. 751
with a spoar ; and the rest, with the exception of one servant who was
killed, returned to report the heart-rending affair. When the people of the
country learned that the murdered men were Americans, who had come to
do them good, they rose in their indignation and deluged with blood the
village in which the murderers resided.
The widows of these martyr missionaries returned to this country, shortly
after their bereavement, and Mrs. Munson who has always remained a widow,
became the mother of a son. Mrs. Lyman subsequently became the wife
of the Rev. Dr. Wiley.
FROM THE REV. JOSIAH FISHER.
SuccAsuNNA, N. J., July 9, 1S55.
Dear Sir: I was well acquainted with Munson and Lyman, whose tragical end
has given them such a sad distinction among our American Missionaries. Mun-
son was a member of the class immediately succeeding mine in Bowdoin College;
and if my memory serves me in respect to the time of his admission to College,
we were there together three years. As he was a professor of religion, I used to
meet him regularly in a Sabbath morning prayer-meeting, and sometimes in
other religious circles, besides having frequent intercourse with him of a more
general kind. I subsequently spent two years with him at the Andover Semi-
nary, having preceded him there also by one year; and I remember meeting liim
once or twice, in the interval between his leaving the Seminary and embarking
for the East. Lyman came to Andover about the same time with Munson, and
joined the same class; and my acquaintance with him was confined to the two
years in which we were pursuing our studies there together. Though I knew
him for a shorter period than I knew Munson, I do not know but that my impres
sions of the two characters are equally distinct and trustworthy.
Munson was of about the medium height, thick set, and of dark complexion.
He had a somewhat rugged face, indicative of native energy of mind and pur-
pose, rather than of any gri^'at delicacy on the one hand, or ardour on the other.
When he first came to College, his manners were somewhat stiff and unformed,
owing, no doubt, to the humble circumstances in which he had had his early
training; but he gradually showed himself susceptible of the modifying influ-
ence of his new associations, though his manners could never be considered as
in any degree polished or elegant. And the outer man was, in his case, a true
index to the inner — his intellect was vigorous, manly, and adapted to thorough
investigation. In College he excelled chiefly in mathematical studies. On one
occasion, he told me that he spent the whole night in solving some questions con-
nected Avith his morning recitation; though, after he went to Andover', bis taste
seemed to undergo a change, and he became almost passionately fond of the lan-
guages; and I well remember his expressing to me, in strong terms, his regret
that he had not, during his College life, studied the mathematics less and the
languages more, — especially the Greek, as it bore on the study of the Bible. He
always seemed kind-hearted and obliging, and was not otherwise than cordial in
meeting his friends, though I should hardly suppose that his attachments were
very ardent. He was rather quiet in his ordinary intercourse, and yet was
alwaj'S ready to bear his part in conversation.
I remember one incident of a .somewhat ludicrous character, illustrative of
both his strength of body and energy of action, that occurred while he was in
College. The Mathematical Professor (Smith) got up a survey for the benefit
of the students, with a view to measure the length of a degree of latitud( and
longitude; and Munson was among the leaders in the enterprise. I'art of the
measurement was taken on the water; and, upon the falling of the tide, the boats
in which they had gone out were left, sticking fast upon the flats; and what
752 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
increased the awkwardness of their condition was, that while they were in this
predicament, tliey were overtaken with the darkness. Munson, with his charac-
teristic resolution, seized first one, and then another, and another, and carried
them safely asliore upon his back. The spirit that discovered itself on that occa-
sion was a leading element in his character, and formed an important qualifica-
tion for the missionary work.
His Christian character was marked by great uniformity, consistency, and
active devotedncss to the cause of Christ. Though he was always a vigorous
student, I think he never suffered his studies to interfere, in any degree, with
the keeping of his heart, or the culture of his devout affections. As he advanced
in his studies, his mind rapidlj^ unfolded; and before he left the Seminary, he
had reached a degree of vigour and maturity that disappointed even those who
had expected the most from him. I never heard him preach: what came nearest
to it, was my hearing him deliver, by appointment of his fellow-students, a
Eulogy on a class-mate of great promise in the Seminary, who had then recently
died. Tlie performance was, in every respect, highly creditable to him. Uis
manner on that occasion, as I remember it, was not particularly striking, and
yet the performance was very highly approved; and I doubt not that if he had
lived, he would have taken rank with the better class of American preachers.
Lyman was, in almost every respect, a very different man from his associate
and fellow-martjT. Every thing in his personal appearance was indicative of an
ardent temperament. He was rather above the medium stature, and bent
slightly forward as he walked. Ilis complexion was light; his features, espe-
cially his nose, somewhat prominent; and he had a sort of sharp, bony appear-
ance that indicated strong, nervous sensibility. lie had great physical vigour
and animal spirit — he walked more than five hundred miles during one vacation;
and, having occasion, at a certain time, to refer to a book which was not to be
had at the Seminary, he walked to Boston to procure it and returned the same
day, without experiencing any inconvenience from the journey. He was impetu-
ous in his movements, quick in his thoughts, and possibly sometimes not suffi-
ciently considerate m his purposes; but he was of a social turn, full of warm and
kindly feeling, and earnestly bent upon doing good, wherever he had opportu-
nity. He carried his whole soul into every thing in which he engaged — he was
disqualified, by hia very constitution, for doing any thing by halves. The most
important erfort that he ever put forth during his connection with the Seminary,
was the writing of a somewhat elaborate essay on the condition of females in
heatlicn lands. lie evinced great industry and perseverance in collecting the
requisite material, and a part of the essay was afterwards published in the form
of a Tract, and is, I believe, still the best thing on that subject, that has been
written. There was a time, during his Junior 3'ear in the Seminary, when he
was on the eve of becoming a Baptist, and had made up his mind to offer himself
to the Baptist Board, as one of their missionaries; but, in consequence of a
casual conversation that occurred between him and one of his Congregational
friends, just as he was about to carrj- his purpose into effect, he was led to con-
tinue in the same ecclesiastical connection in which he had been educated. He
was undoubtedly an earnest and zealous Christian; and though his natural con-
stitution wa.s not free from defects, there is no reason to doubt, if his life had
been spared, that he would have been a very active and successful labourer in the
missionary field. Both he and his associate have left behind but a brief record
of purposes formed and services accomplislied; but it is a record inscribed deep
on the memory and the heart of the church.
Yours sincerely,
J. FISHER.
J
WILLIAM BRADFORD HOMER. 753
WILLIAM BRADFORD HOMER *
1840—1841.
"William Bradford Homer, the second son of G-eorge Joy and Mary
Homer, was born in Boston, January 31, 1817. His father was an enter-
prising and prosperous merchant, and extensively known in the walks of
Christian philanthrophy. His mother was a lineal descendant, in the
seventh generation, from Governor William Bradford. His earliest develop-
ments gave promise of high intellectual and moral excellence. He was the
object of the strictest parental watch and care, and was so shielded from
the influence of evil example, that he passed the period of his childhood
and early youth, ignorant, in a great measure, of the follies and vices of the
world.
At the age of about seven, he took private lessons in elocution from Mr.
William Russell of Boston, a distinguished teacher in that department, and
thus early acquired a habit of speaking well, which formed one of the ele-
ments of his success as a preacher. In August, 1827, when he was in his
eleventh year, he was sent to the Mount Pleasant Classical School at
Amherst, where he remained three years. Here he was distinguished for
his gentle and urbane manners, his uniform and quiet subjection to author-
ity, and his rapid progress in the different branches of study, particularly in
the Latin, ancient and modern Greek, and French languages. Several of his
essays in ancient Greek were published in a juvenile Monthly; and his
knowledge of the modern Greek, which he acquired under the instruction
of Mr. Gregory Perdicari, a native of Greece, was such that he could con-
verse in it with considerable fluency.
It was during the year 1828, while he was a pupil at the Mount Pleas-
ant School, that he entered, as he believed, on the Christian life. There
was, at that time, a general attention to religion among the pupils of the
institution ; and, though a large proportion of those who were supposed,
for a while, to give evidence of a spiritual renovation ultimately returned
to their wonted carelessness, young Homer was one of the few whose sub-
sequent lives evinced the genuineness of the change. At this interesting
period, he derived great benefit from reading Dr. Spring's Essays on the
distinguishing traits of Christian character.
In August, 1830, he left the Mount Pleasant School, and returned to
Boston, where he pursued his classical studies for somewhat more than a
year. He then became a member of Phillips Academy, Andover, and con-
tinued there until he entered Amherst College in 1832. Previous to his
leaving the Academy, he was appointed to pronounce the Valedictory
address, at the anniversary of the institution. As he was the youngest
member of the class, and withal of a very youthful appearance, he shrunk
from the appointment, and it was with great difiiculty that he was prevailed
on to fulfil it, notwithstanding it was the most honourable testimony he
could have received.
His college course was marked by the most scrupulous regard to order, by
great diligence and success in study, and by a consistent and elevated Chris-
* Memoir by Professor Park.
Vol. II. 95
754
TK I N I TAR I AN CONGREGATIONAL.
tian character. He was graduated with the highest honours of his class in
September, 183G.
It was the wish of some of Mr. Homer's friends that he should spend
some time, after his graduation, in teaching school; thinking that this might
prove a salutary discipline to him in reference to the sterner engagements
of professional life. But so thoroughly was he wedded to his studios, that
he could not think of hooding this suggestion. He accordingly entered the
Theological Seminary at Andover in October, 1830.
Early the next year, his mind was deeply exercised on the question
whether it was not his duty to devote his life to a foreign mission. After
mature deliberation, however, he came to the conclusion that he was better
qualified, by his peculiar constitution, to labour at home ; and he seems
subsequently to have made up his mind that he would devote a portion of
his life at least to teaching, after having passed two or three years at the
German Universities.
In the spring of 1837, he left the Seminary for a year, though he still
resided at Andover, and availed himself of many privileges of the institu-
tion. His object in doing this was to give himself an opportunity of going
over certain parts of the course more thoroughly than he could within the
prescribed limits, as well as of extending his knowledge of some collateral
subjects. He diil not at all relax his diligence during this period, nor was
he less methodical in the division of his time than while he was formally
connected with the Seminary. At the close of a year, he resumed his place
as a pupil in the institution.
In the winter of Mr. Homer's middle year at Andover, he was appointed
a Tutor in Amherst College ; but, though he was earnestly solicited to
accept it, he perseveringly declined, giving as a reason that his duty called
him to complete, without unnecessary delay, his theological studies.
In the year 1840, he commenced his career as a minister of the Gospel.
In May of that year, it being his first Senior vacation, he spent nearly four
weeks at South Berwick, Me., and preached with so much acceptance, and
in other ways so endeared himself to the people, that they gave him a call
to become their pastor. He returned to the Seminary and spent the sum-
mer term, and closed the exercises of his class at their anniversary, by an
essay which appears in his published works. On leaving the President's
chair of the Porter Rhetorical Society, he delivered an oration, which is also
published. Both tliese performances are of a high order of merit.
On the Gth of Oitobcr, 1840, he was married at Buffalo, N. Y., to Sarah
M., daughter of James F. Brown, and sister of one of his most intimate
friends, who had perished in the ill-fated licxington. Having maturely
considered the call from South Berwick, notwithstanding the congregation
was small, and he had already received overtures from one of much more
importance, he determined to accept it ; and he was accordingly ordained on
the 11th of November.
On the Sabbath after his ordination, Mr. Homer uttered the following
ominous sentences : —
'• We live in a solemn world. AVe cannot take a step where sad realities do not
stare us in the face. We cannot form a new tio without casting our thoughts forward
to the deatli pang that must sunder it. Amid the niutu.al rejoicings of our recent con-
nection, I involuntarily think of the ])all and the shroud, and tlie bier, and the grave;
and I behold one, and another, and another, who now look up into my face and hear the
sound of my voice, for whose cold remains I shall be called ere long to discharge the
WILLIAM BRADFORD HOMER. 755
last sad offices; and God only knows but that this people may bear me ont to my
burial. Sabbath after Sabbatli, I must stand up here as a dying man before dying
men. Yet, blessed be God. I preach a Gospel, which secures the great antidote to
these ills, which enables us to look above and beyond them. And if my people will
resolve this day to put themselves under my spiritual guardianship, and Heaven will
bless the ministry which begins on my part in weakness and distrust, we may hush
these dark forebodings, we may rest assured that death cannot weaken the tie now
formed; we may look forward to a gladsome re-union, where the sombre weeds of the
funeral shall be exchanged for the white vestments of the marriage feast, and the happy
language of the pastor shall be, — ' Behold I and the people which thou hast given me.' ''
Mr, Homer immediately after entering upon his work, set about forming
various plans for increasing the interest of his people in religious things,
and thus helping forward the great ends of his ministry. But his bodily
energies were not adequate to the amount of labour which he took upon
himself. His life had always been that of a scholar, and too little pains
had been taken to establish and invigorate his physical constitution. Hence
when, in addition to the performance of a large amount of pastoral duty, he
tasked himself with the writing of two sermons a week, he quickly found
that it was more than he could bear ; and he was actually promising his
friends that he would relax the severity of his labours, when he was over-
taken by the disease which terminated his life. On the first Sabbath in
March, after a week of exhausting labour, he preached with great power
and administered the ordinance of the Lord's Supper. At the close of his
exercises in the afternoon, he visited a friend who was extremely ill, and in
a state of delirium, betokening, as was supposed, a fatal issue. He left his
bedside oppressed with the reflection that he was not in a situation to be
either counselled or comforted. On the evening of this Sabbath, (March
7th,) he was visited by his physician, who saw at once that he was threat-
ened with serious illness. His disease was of such a nature that it occa-
sioned, for a season, great despondency, and he seems to have had a full
conviction that his end was drawing near. After about ten days, his des-
pondency gave way to delirium ; and from that time till his death, there
were only brief intervals of reason. His mind, however, even in his
insanity, evidently had a .spiritual flirection ; and whenever he enjoyed, even
for a few moments, the exercise of his rational ]>owors, he was manifestly
rejoicing in the light of his Heavenly Father's countenance. On Monday
the 22d of March, 1841, he closed his career, in the utmost peace, in the
midst of a community of bleeding hearts. Professor Edwards of Andover,
preached the sermon at his funeral, from I. Cor. xv. 53. It was a dis-
course to which Mr. Homer had himself listened with the greatest interest
eighteen months before.
FROM THE REV. J. B. COXDIT, D. D.
iS'i;w.\RK, April 5, 1849.
Rev. and dear Brother: All my recollections of William Bradford Homer are
such, that it is a pleasant office you have assigned me, to make a brief record of
my impressions concerning him. It is not my design to furnish a full anah'sis
of his character, or to gather in order the events that constitute his history; but
to speak of him in familiar manner, as he impressed himself on my mind, in
some of the manifestations of his brief career. Not one lives who knew him,
who does not delight to let memory linger amid the scenes of his beautiful life.
Mr. Homer's life was not distinguished by any wonderful deed or startling
incident, by which he suddenly mounted to a reputation above his fellows.
There was no one thing so prominent in his course, as to command a sudden
Y56 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
admiration. The elements of his character were early marked, and, in the pro-
gress of 3'ears, developed in good proportions. The light which he shed around
him was a mellow, steady, and growing light. Ilis influence was uniform and
noiseless. He went out and came in, in the execution of the fixed purposes of
his life, with a quiet step. Such a habit adorned his career, inspired confidence
and love, and left such an impress on the minds of all around him, that none
who knew him will ever forget him in the happy combination of qualities which
attracted to him all hearts.
While the traits of Mr. Homer's character in childhood were such as to excite
the strongest hopes of his parents, and encourage their earnest efforts in his edu-
cation, their high hopes and his early promise did not blind them to the sacred-
ness of their trust. It was only necessary to know the manner in which that
trust Avas discharged, and to witness his filial respect and devotion, to account
for many of those virtues that were the ornament of the man in social life. A
reverence for truth, a love of order and propriety, a respect for the counsels of
age and wisdom, ever distinguished him. With true modesty and gentleness he
united a love of principle and a firmness in adhering to it. He had no affectation
of modesty. He was, as a student in College, ever aiming at high attainments
in scholarship, and knew the standing which the Faculty and his fellow-students
assigned him; but he maintained his position so as not to excite the envy of his
associates, or forfeit their affection and sympathy. He gave no indication, in
word or action, indicative of elation of mind on account of his attainments.
This is worthy of notice in view of the remarkable development of his intellect
beyond many of his age. Happy for him that he was the subject of such wise
parental discipline amid the perils of his early years. Happy, especially, that
he was made so early a child of grace, to be controlled by Christian principle,
and to grow in self-knowledge, with his rapid progress in other acquisitions.
He thus became a son to honour his father with a most tender devotion. He
thus became a friend to be trusted, discriminating, but steadfast and devoted;
glad to receive, as he was to impart; not always obtaining profit to himself, but
seeking to profit others. He was free from those peculiarities which sometimes
render it difficult to preserve friendship. He made no exorbitant exactions,
which try affection and at last cool it. He gave out his heart without disguise.
He won the hearts of others in such a way as to keep them and ever bind them
more closely to him. Those who shared his friendship, will ever remember with
what delight he met them after a separation, as the glad heart uttered itself in
look, tone, and action. And not less so, after he had assumed, what was emi-
nently, in his estimate of it, the great work of a pastor. When I think of him
at home, as the son and the brother; at Amherst and at Andover, as the student
and friend; at South Berwick, as the preacher and guide of the flock of Christ,
I see the same beautiful symmetry of character; as he occupies each place with
such facility, completeness, and devotion, as to arrest all observers and impress
all minds.
In Mr. Homer was seen the happy union of the scholar and the Christian.
He was a student not merely in name. He was so in purpose and habit, with a
zeal that never tired. He loved knowledge and fixed for himself a point of high
attainment. His mind thirsted strongly, and he lingered at the fountains. He
sought to lay the foundations of a thorough scholarship, and formed his plans
with reference to the life of a student. Hence, in College, and afterwards, he
pursued his studies, not only with fidelity, but with system. It did not seem to
any one that he was seeking merel)' the reputation of a scholar, or was very
anxious for the highest College distinctions. He had a true delight in the field
opened to the student. He could not endure superficial attainments. He loved
to search for the hidden treasures. The mental effort demanded in severe study,
was his pleasure. At the same time, he did a scholar's duty in the institutions
WILLIAM BRADFORD HOMER. 757
with which he was connected; seeking to awaken the spirit of the scholar in
those around him. To this end he contributed his influence with much success.
But I am happy to say that the subject of this sketch was a valuable example
of the Christian student. Religion, in our literary institutions, has sometimes
suffered for want of diligence in study, on the part of its professors, and at other
times, by their neglect of its duties through their devotion to studj^. But he
avoided both defects by a conscientious discharge of duty. A student has been
known, in the fervour of his religious devotion, to lay aside his books in the
morning, and call on other Christians to do the same, under the conviction that
he could not serve God in preparing his recitations. Mr. Homer's piety was not
manifested in this way. All would have been surprised to see any thing irregu-
lar or eccentric in his religious manifestations. He communed much with his
own heart and was still. He commended religion by the exhibition of its graces.
Christian principle was manifested in " the daily beauty of his life." He sought
to reach other minds with an influence that would lead them to the cross, but it
was in his own way; often indirectly, but not the less powerfully. He kept
pious emotions alive in his breast, though not alwa3-s expressing them in just
that way in which others would do it. Yet in him was presented an example
of the cultivation of the mind and the heart in happy consistency, and as such,
ought to be held up to the view of young men engaged in literary pursuits. In
him the Christian was not buried in the student, nor the student supplanted by
the Christian. Cultivating habitually a tender, but healthful religious sensi-
biUty, he appreciated, M'ith a nice discrimination, the claims of duty. His attain-
ments as a scholar were all the more earnestly sought, and more highly prized,
that he might consecrate them to the glorj^ of his Master.
It was thought by many that Mr. Homer's temperament and tastes might
forbid his entering upon the active duties of the ministry. Perhaps it was the
judgment of some, that he ought to pursue his studies without interruption,
and thus qualify himself for the post of an instructor in a literary institu-
tion. "While he may have contemplated such a field of labour, at some future
time, he had a strong desire to preach the Gospel. He saw that, in such a work,
all his acquisitions would be useful to him. He had never been a recluse, and
was willing to enter the scene where his sympathies with man would be called
out. If he did not seem fitted for the fierce conflicts of fife, all believed him to
be eminently adapted to preach the Gospel in such a way as to give it great
power over thinking, intelligent persons, and peculiarly over prejudiced and scep-
tical minds.
Mr. Homer came into the ministry with such mental discipline and furniture,
that his first sermons were distinguished for the dignity, vigour, and richness of
a mature intellect and experience. The expectations of his friends were not
disappointed. Though heard with delight, wherever he preached, he was not
disposed to enter a large field of labour. In a conversation with him, about the
time of his leaving Andover, concerning a pulpit in one of our cities, in which
his services were desired, I found him shrinking from such a responsibility.
Rather, in accordance with the preference which Spencer at one time expressed,
he chose a rural home and a scene of quiet, unimposing labours. South Berwick
was then opened to him, and there his heart was turned. He sought a place
where the duties of the study would not be invaded by the many public calls
which attend the station of a city pastor. The day of his ordination was a happy
one to the people of that village. Seldom, if ever, have I seen a people manifest,
in every appropriate way, a deeper sense of the value of the ministr)'- which God
gave them. The pastor elect approached the event of his ordination with a
chastened cheerfulness, while there appeared, in every word and movement, a
deep impression of the greatness of the trust to be committed to him. By his
side in the sanctuary was his venerable father, sometimes too full of emotion to
758 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
restrain his tears. His ministry was opening with unaccustomed promise. Yet
some, who looked, at that time, on his slender form, who knew his intense, yet
suppressed, emotion, and the high resolve with which he entered on his work,
had many fears as to his capacity long to endure it.
His people felt at once that he had come among them with a heart to work.
Without delay his plans and purposes were disclosed to them. He had a system
which he regarded as necessary to the successful discharge of his trust; and he
wished his people to know and conform to it. In that system, the work of pre-
paration for the pulpit had the chief place. He apportioned his time and energies
in accordance with the remark of Herbert concerning a good minister, that " the
pulpit is his joy and throne." He gave his mind to every subject on which he
wrote, with the conviction that it is a great work to make a good sermon. Per-
haps his solicitude and labour in this department were too great. But this was
the way in which he felt himself bound to magnify his oflBce. Every part of
his work had its place. lie sent forth his influence in every appropriate channel.
He was in all his duties, with such vigilance, facility, and untiring devotion, as at
once to impress all classes of the community, and draw within the influence of
the sanctuary some who had forsaken it.
It is not difScult to determine the secret of Mr. Homer's popularity. It is not
found in a concealment of offensive truths. He did not " paint the glass, so as to
keep out the light " from the conscience. He had nothing eccentric in his style
or manner. The man himself was attractive. In his countenance, tone, and
action, he conciliated his auditors. He was sincere and earnest. He so effectu-
ally secured the sympathy of his hearers, that he could utter any truth with all
plainness, and they would bear it. He did not think it necessary to be mystical,
to excite attention. Yet he gave to common truths a jjeculiar charm, both in
their dress and in the relations in which he exhibited them. Nothing was
rejected that was adapted to add vividness and force to his instructions. Every
sermon bore the impress of his earnest soul, fixed some important truth dis-
tinctly and impressively in the minds of his hearers, and was remembered
He kept mind awake, by being always prepared to meet its wants. And finally,
a love for his work and for his people, breathing in all that he said and did, aided
much in securing the favour of all. And I do not see why a popularity, resting
on such grounds as these, would not have continued, if his life had been pro-
longed.
It was in the midst of a still growing interest in his ministry that this useful
servant of Christ was called to his rest. All his arrangements indicated that he
had a true view of what is necessary to a permanent as well as an efficient min-
istry. His plans were such as one would form, who would lay the foundations
of extensive usefulness in a long life. Hence it is that, though his life was short,
his works live after him. He loved to dwell on what he called " the transmigra-
tion of intellect." The theme of his Valedictory oration, when he was gradu-
ated, was, " The immortality of mental influence." That of his address at
Andover, when he left the Theological Seminary, was, " The posthumous power
of the pulpit." On these topics, his thoughts are often beautiful. Now that he
is gone from earth, we read some passages with a peculiar interest. I cannot
refrain from transferring to this page, from his address at Amherst, the follow-
ing:— " Thus life begins when it ceases, and it seems as if the voice that was soft
and humble, gathered compass and richness from the echoing walls of the sepul-
chre. If there be such a thing as mental evaporation, the drops that vanish into
thin air, are gathered to mantle the horizon for a season and descend again in
showers that water the earth." When, in his address at Andover, he had
referred to the fact that many had mourned the premature death of Huntington
of Boston, he added, " How much more may have been accomplished by the
spirit of the youthful Huntington, moving amid those churches in the quickened
WILLIAM BRADFORD HOMER. 759
memory of his few first fruits, than if he had lived till no^, and had come up here
to-day with white head and venerable mien to receive our homage. The preacher
who casts his eye far down the lapse of years into the very bosom of that eternity
where time shall almost be forgotten — such a one will make his life, a life, — short
though it be, and will count its days by labours and its years hy fruits." Thus
he spoke. Since his decease, some have interpreted this language as indicative
of an habitual impression on his mind that his Ufe would be short. I do not so
j regard it. Yet he was not a stranger to the thought that his time of labour might
be quickly finished, and well might he associate with that thought the delightful
i consideration that, though he should fall amid the freshness of his powers, he
should yet live on earth, in an indestructible being. And he has left an undecay-
ing life behind him. His short life gathered a power, which is incorporated in
living mind. lie is dead, but his "influence is living on in another direction,
and, by the life it imparts to new minds, is constantly branching out into new
influences alike immortal." Precious, for a long time to come, will be the mem-
^' ory of Homer, and worthy of a better tribute than I have been able to render
i to it.
Your brother in Christ,
J. B. CONDIT.
FROM THE REV. FREDERICK D. HUNTINGTON, D. D.
Boston, November 10, 1852.
Dear Sir: I cheerfully comply with jour request, and give some brief remin-
iscences of William Bradford Homer, as he was while in the body.
Mr. Homer was three years before me in College at Amherst. I think the
first time I ever saw him was on a Class Exhibition day. From the Academy,
in a neighbouring town, where I was then a student, I went over to attend the
exercises. This was in 1835; and he must have been a Junior. The part he
performed was the concluding oration, in English. It still seems to me that the
impression he then made on my taste and judgment, my boyish admiration and
ambition, was one of the marked events that stimulated my early studies. He
stood before me as the impersonation of whatever is elegant and noble in scho-
larship. The image of his person and oratory was vivid in my memory for
years, and has not quite faded yet. A certain polished freedom of manner, — a
slender, tall, and handsome figure, — an expression of singular purity and radi-
ance,— these were the chief external characteristics. But there was also in his
speaking a much higher charm, — that of entire apparent faith in M^iat he was
saj'ing, — a con'fidence in it almost joyous. This lent a delightful buoyancy to his
eloquence, and won the hearer's respect to something deeper than mere accom-
plishments. Accomplished he certainly was, to a rare degree. One was first
struck perhaps by his excellent breeding; and first conciliated by his evident
delicacy of organization; and first moved to admiration b)^ a beautifully blended
gravity and refinement, dignity and airy lightness, unusual among Academic
associations, and more unusual at an age so earl}^ as his must then have been.
And j^et it was plain that in the nature so harmoniously cultured, there must
have been an original richness and simplicity, better than any of the gifts of
schools. He spoke sincerely. His learning went into a soul, and was not only
acquired, but assimilated. It was only needful to look at him, to see in that cheer
ful seriousness of face, and that chastened enthusiasm of utterance, a finer
quality than belongs to any made-up manhood. Something bespoke him a Chris-
tian at first glance; but a Christian of genial temper and well-proportioned
character. He bore that reverential and sacred deference towards the truth he
uttered, which begets an undefinable trust in the audience, and sinks thoughts
of self, and all tricks for eff"ect, in the true orator. He had that earnest engag
7gQ TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL.
edness in his manner, which is sometimes called self-possession, but is really a
far better trait, and is more exactly possession by the subject. And yet he was
rather calm than impassioned, rather guarded than impetuous, rather uniformly
ardent and persuasive, than epigrammatically brilliant in style, or powerful in
declamation.
I mention these qualities, because my first impressions were afterwards con-
firmed; and, so far as I know, the same qualities continued to distinguish him in
his public performances at Andover, and during his short ministry. It was a
good thing, I am sure, for me to have seen and heard him that summer after-
noon; and I am glad to take this public notice of a force so quickening and ele-
vating. They are worthy of our grateful recollection to the end of life, — these
living influences that shoot from one point to another along the student's pro-
gress; these forms of beauty and strength that stand out at intervals, like ideals
of fancy as much as like fle.sh-and-blood realities, to animate younger minds, and
so create a kind of Scholarly Brotherhood, between successive ranks of studying
men.
Subsequently to his graduation I saw but little of Mr. Homer; and knew him
principally through my class-mate and intimate friend, Bancroft, who had a
good deal of intercourse with him in the Theological School, both intellectual
and spiritual. In that way, I learned liow single was his aim, and how affluent
his promise of the best distinction in his profession. And then, soon after, came
the strange tidings that so much vitality had ceased or changed its place; so
much hope been quenched or transferred to immortality, where it is never
quenched. What dying scene was ever more bright with the very beauty of the
cross, than the one where he stretched out his arms, as if over the table of the
Lord, in a hallowed though disordered imagination, his ardent faith inspiring
even his delirium, and so fell asleep, dreaming of the blessed office which was
the dearest to his Christian heart and hands, breaking the bread of communion
to the disciples }
I have alluded to Bancroft. You are aware that he was never ordained, but
died in 1844, within a few months after Ihiishing his preparatory course at the
Seminary. He was the son of Jacob Bancroft, Esq., of Boston; and,
having been fitted for College in the Boston Latin School, he entered with
me at Amherst, and was graduated in 1839. It was there that he was spirit-
ually renewed, and entered in earnest on the Christian life. His physical organ-
ization was singularly unequal to his intellectual life; and near-sightedness made
many of his movements and gestures awkward. Still, the glow of his counte-
nance revealed the internal play of emotion and the activity of his brain. The
ingenuousness of his whole manifestation drew to him friends whom his warm
heart never disappointed. From every thing unclean his whole nature revolted
with the utmost energy. His soul was all quick. He rejected all that was not
honourable, generous, and pure, either in conduct or literature, by a sure
instinct. His sensitiveness would doubtless have stood in the way of his entire
success in ordinary business relations, and possibly in some departments of his
profession; but it gave a fascinating delicacy to his private character. All the
motions of his mind were rapid. Had he chosen to apply himself to the regular
studies, with less devotion to general literature, his class scholarship, which was
high, might easily have been made higher. Belles Lettres authors and poetry
acted on liim with the strongest attraction. To most of his fellow-students he
was chiefly known as a poet; and had he lived longer, the fine verses he often
wrote gave guaranty enough that he would have attained no mean eminence in
that branch of letters. His fancy was incessantly at play, even amidst his more
serious occupations; and the grotesque shapes it was forever fashioning and
grouping; the congruous and incongruous imagery it ever held at command, in
endless variety; its promptitude and richness, — rendered him, where he felt at
WILLIAM BRADFORD HOMER. 761
ease, one of the most entertaining of our College circle. Indeed there was no
man whose humour was more sure to set the company into innocent mirth, and
no man more certain to revolt when that mirth passed the bounds of courtesy or
decency. If this were the right occasion, I could fill a large space with his
felicitous retorts, and brilliant sallies of wit. No process in conversation was
too subtle for him to follow. His imagination would spring instantly to illus-
trate the most suddenly proposed topic: and it must be a rare genius that could
surprise or outstrip his own, in invention or suggestion.
All these gifts it would have been both the principle and the satisfaction of his
spirit to discipline still farther in this world; for he was a patient and progres-
sive student as long as he lived. But it would have been a fivr deeper and holier
joy, to consecrate them to the service of his Master and Saviour, as a minister
in the Church. Religion took an engaging aspect in his frank, fervent nature.
He loved and longed to preach the Gospel. But God called him. And through
a painful disease, he went cheerfully and submissively home. He is joined to
the honoured host of witnesses who have fulfilled their ministerial vow with
silent lips, and who speak the word of an endless life, being dead.
I am, with cordial esteem,
Your obedient servant and friend,
F. D. HUNTINGTON.
JOHN KING LOUD *
1841—1849.
John King Lord, a son of the Rev. Nathan Lord, D. D., was born,
March 22, 1819, in Amherst, N. H., which was, at that time, the place of
his father's residence. When he was ten years of age, his father removed
to Hanover and entered on the Presidency of Dartmouth College. The
son, having been fitted for College at South Berwick (Me.) Academy, was
admitted a member of Dartmouth College in 1832, and was graduated in
1836. It was during his connection with College that he became hopefully
a subject of renewing grace, and formed the purpose to devote himself to
the Christian ministry. The year after his graduation, he was occupied as
a teacher at New Bedford, Mass.; and the year next ensuing, was Pre-
ceptor of the Academy at Peacham, Vt. In the autumn of 1838, he became
a member of the Theological Seminary at Andover, where he remained until
1841, when he completed the regular course in that institution. In Novem-
ber of that year, — a few months after he was licensed to preach, he was
ordained pastor of the Congregational church in Hartford, Vt. After
remaining there nearly six years, he removed to Cincinnati, Ohio, and was
installed pastor of the First Orthodox Congregational church in that city,
on the 21st of October, 1847. He found the church in an exceedingly
depressed state ; but he addressed himself to his work with great vigour
and alacrity, and had every prospect of a highly successful ministry. His
bland manners and conciliatory spirit, as well as his good sense and pru-
dence, had rendered him highly acceptable to other denominations than his
own ; and his genial and harmonizing influence had already begun to be
• MS. from his father.
Vol. II. 96
762 TRINITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL^
perceptibly felt. But scarcely had his ministry commenced, before it
reached a sudden and disastrous close. He died of that terrible scourge of
humanity, the cholera, on the 13th of July, 1849, in the thirty-first year
of his age. He knew that death was approaching ; but he met it with the
utmost tranquillity and firmness, being chiefly concerned to administer pious
counsels to those around him, and to leave a dying testimony in honour of
the blaster who was calling him to Himself. A sermon on the occasion of
his death was preached by the llev. D. H. Allen, of the Lane Theological
Seminary. In 185U, a selection from his manuscript sermons was pub-
lished in a duodecimo volume, with an introductory notice by his bereaved
father. The sermons are creditable alike to his intellect and his heart.
Mr. Lord was married, in January, 1842, to Laura E., daughter of Dr.
Aaron Smith of Hardwick, Vt. They had three children, two of whom
survived their father.
FROM THE REV. S. G. BROWN, D. D.
Hanovee, March 10, 1852.
Dear Sir : I am very happy to give you, — according to your request, — my
recollections of the late Rev. John K. Lord, M'hose early decease was deplored
by a large circle of friends. I knew him well from his very boj-hood, and was
observant of his ministerial life up to the time of his leaving his parish at White
River for Cincinnati.
His appearance, especially in the pulpit, would naturally attract the interest
of a stranger, and may well remain fixed in the memory of his friends. In per-
son, rather slender and not tall, he was rapid and vigorous in his movements,
with a countenance of a fine intellectual cast, full of life and expression, and
uniting, quite uncommonly, the freshness and eagerness of youth with the sober- ,
ness and thoughtfulness of mature life. Though young, he had seen much of
the world, and was sufficiently familiar with society in its best forms, to bear
himself with dignity and ease under all circumstances.
In communication with others he was frank, unreserved, and unaffected, main
taining his own opinions without fear or hesitation, but yet duly recognising the
right of an opponent. Of a discriminating and active mind, he seized with
readiness whatever subject suggested itself, and allowed his studies to assume a
suflBcient range to guard against narrow and exclusive sympathies. But yet
Theology, the revealed thought and will of God, formed the main subject of his
reflection, and its established principles he made the criterion by which to deter-
mine the value of every other pursuit. This imparted earnestness to his opin-
ions, and a serious and resolute method of discussing the matter which came
before him. It seems to me, also, that it tended to produce in him a maturity
of judgment, a quiet power of action, and a simplicity of life, quite uncommon in
so young a man.
Such a habit might to some seem naturally associated with illiberality and
harshness in judging those who differed from himself, especially if the difference
w^ere radical. But in Mr. Lord it Avas so tempered by a kindly nature, by a
breadth of sympathy which fully appreciated the feelings of others, by a love of
truth more than a love of victory, by a large acquaintance with men of various
moods, and a consequent knowledge of the practical excellence which is some-
times found in company with a speculative error, that while he yielded nothing
of his own convictions, he did not hastily condemn those of another — even
entered into them, and detected and acknowledged the modicum of truth, which
gave vitality to the associated error.
As a preacher, Mr. Lord was direct, serious, and impressive. His evident
purpose was to exhibit and enforce the truth, and not to attract attention to him-
JOHN KING LORD. 703
self. Hence he stood behind his subject, if I may so speak, and endeavoured by
such means as lay in his power to make it bear upon the conscience and under-
standing of his hearers. If his earnestness might occasional!}^ seem to a stran-
ger somewhat too strenuous, those who knew him understood that the manner
was the result of sincere and hearty conviction; that the truth which he preached
he deepl}' felt, and he preached it, not because he was expected in virtue of his
office to do some such thing, but because men had a living and abiding interest in
it, and thus only could he fulfil his high duty to his Master, jlc adopted in sub-
stance the Millenarian view of the prophecies. Some of his oi)inions would be
thought, according to the ideas of most men, too little hopeful for the world, but
he adopted them, even as he proclaimed them, not because they were, a priori,
most agreeable or most probable, but simply because the word of God seemed
to teach him so, and on the truth of that word, he relied with a beautiful sim-
plicity of foith.
He took a strong hold of the subject which interested him, and had he lived
longer, would doubtless have become distinguished as a Avriter no less than a
preacher. Those who should estimate the quality of his mind from the published
volume of his discourses, would not give him sufficient credit for variety of topic
in his sermons, although they might understand well enough the general method
he was apt to pursue.
Though not possessing the highest versatility, he was never at a loss in adapt-
ing himself to varying circumstances, nor deficient in unfolding harmoniously
the manifold truth of the Scriptures. His preaching, upon whatever topic, was
marked by a settled character, — the result of his principles and convictions.
Hortatory discourses and appeals to the feelings were comparatively rare \vith
him, yet hardly any thing could be better, in its way, than the earnest, impres-
sive, or tender and affectionate application, which he often made of a doctrine to
the actual wants of his hearers. The condition of his parish, the state of the
world, the difficulties of individuals, the hopes of the Church, the labours of
benevolence, history and prophecy, the divinely appointed institutions, and espe-
cially the essential doctrines of the New Testament, were, each in its turn, the
subjects of his discourses. If there were any thing unusual in his mode of treat-
ing these various themes, it was perhaps that he applied them more than is com-
mon, at least in New England, to the instruction and encouragement of believ-
ers. To the Church, if I am rightly informed, he directed the strength of his
later ministrations, without, however, seeming to slight any other of his appro-
priate duties. To the church over which he was pastor, he directed a message
almost from out of the agonies of death.
I have thus, ni}^ dear Sir, given you m}' general impressions of the character
and preaching of Mr. Lord, as briefly as possible, perhaps with the omission of
many things which ought to have been noticed. Too early for us, too early in
human view for the Church, did he finish his earthly labours and go to his rest;
but not too early for himself His Christian life was mature, and he was habitu-
ally looking forward beyond this world of clouds and shadows to the world of
light and truth. That Christian life was not ascetic nor enthusiastic, but affec-
tionate, cheerful, earnest, quiet, profound; and the "peace of God" rested upon
him. It would be well for the Church if others might be raised up to take his
place, of equal singleness of purpose, steadfastness in the great work of the min-
istry, thoroughness of religious knowledge, and depth of piety.
I remain, dear Sir, yours with great regard,
S. G. BROWN.
ALPHABETICAL INDEX
NAMES OF THE SUBJECTS.
A. VOL. PAGE.
Adams, Eliphalet I. 233
Adams, William I. 181
Alden, Timothy II. 449
Allen. James I. 163
Allen; Thomas I. 607
AUin, John I. 108
Anderson . Rufus II . 361
Appleton, Jesse, D. D II. 380
Appleton, Nathaniel I. 301
Austin, David II. 195
Austin, Samuel, D.D II. 221
B.
Backus, Azel, D.D II. 281
Backus, Charles, D.D II. 61
Bailey, John I. 201
Baldwin, Ebenezer II. 635
Barnard, John (of Marblehead) I. 252
Barnard, Thomas and John of
Andover I. 198
Bates, Joshua, D.D II. 465
Bellamy, Joseph, D. D I. 404
Benedict, Joel, D.D I. 682
Birdseye, Nathan I. 436
Boies, Artemas II. 664
Bradstreet, Simon I. 241
Brattle, William I. 236
Breck, Robert I. 256
Breck, Robert (Second) I. 385
Brock. John I, 134
Brown, Francis, D.D II. 516
Brown, John, D. D II. 589
Buckminster, Joseph, D.D II. 108
Bulklv, Peter I. 51
Burnet, Matthias, D. D II 92
Burnham, Abraham, D.D II. 512
Burr, Jonathan I. 123
Burroughs, George I. 186
Burton, Asa. D. D II. 140
Bushnell , Jedediah II . 422
Byles, Mather, D. D I. 376
C.
Catlin, Jacob, D. D II. 260
Chapin, Calvin. D. D II. 323
Chaplin. Daniel, D. D II. 148
Chauncy, Charles I. 110
Chauncy, Nathaniel I. 263
VOL. PAGE.
Church, John Hubbard, D. D. . . II. 445
Clap, Thomas I. 343
Cleaveland John I. 458
Clark, Jonas I. 514
Clark, Peter I. 291
Cobbet, Thomas I. 102
Codman, John, D. D II. 492
Cogswell, James, D.D I. 445
Cogswell, William, D.D II. 605
Colman, Benjamin, D.D I. 223
Cooper Samuel, D. D I. 440
Cooper, William I. 288
Cornelius, Elias, D.D II. 633
Cotton, John I. 25
Covvles, Giles Hooker, D.D II. 330
Crane, John, D. D II. 214
Crane, John R., D. D II. 562
Gumming, Alexander I. 462
Cutler, Manasseh, LL. D II. 15
D.
Daggett, Herman II. 291
Daggett, Naphthali, D. D I. 479
Dana, James, D. D I. 565
Dana, Joseph, D. D I. 597
Danforth, Samuel I. 138
Davenport, John I. 93
Day. Jeremiah I. 688
Dickinson, Austin II. 674
Dickinson, Moses I. 310
Dow, Daniel, D. D . . . II. 369
Dunster, Henry I. 125
Dutton, Aaron II. 489
Dutton, Matthew Rice II. 592
Dwight, Louis II. 669
Dwight, Sereno Edwards, D. D. . II. 629
Dwight, Timothy, D. D II. 152
E.
Eaton, Samuel (of New Haven) I. 98
Eaton, Samuel (of Harpswell).. I. 612
Eckley, Josei)h. D. D II. 187
Edwards, Bela Bates, D. D II. 735
Edwards Jonathan I. 329
Edwards, Jonathan, D.D I. 653
Edwards. Justin, D. D II. 572
Edwards, Timothy I. 280
Eliot, Andrew, D. D I. 417
766
ALPHABETICAL INDEX.
VOL. PAGE.
Eliot, .Jared I. 270
Eliot. Jwliii 1. 18
Elliott, John, D. D II. 321
Ely, David, D. D II. 4
Emmons, Nathaniel, D. D I. 693
F.
Farrand, Daniel I. 490
Fish, Joseph I. 359
Fisher, Jonathan II. 344
Fisk. Pliny II. G22
Fiske, John I. 106
Fiske, John, D. D II. 367
Fiske, Nathan, D. D I. 571
Fiske, Nathan W II. 709
Flint, Abel, D. D II. 273
Fobes, Perez, LL. D I. 645
Forbes, Eli, D. D I. 493
Fowler, Orin II. 648
Foxcroft, Thomas I. 308
French, Jonathan II. 42
G.
Gallaudet, Thomas II., LL. D. .II. 609
Gee, Joshua I. 312
Gillet, Alexander II. 70
Gillet. Eliphalet, D. D II. 377
Goodrich, Elizur, D. D I. 506
Graham. John I. 314
Green, Samuel II. 658
Greenough, William II. 187
H.
Hale, John I. 168
Hall.David, D. D I. 357
Hall'. Gordon II. 531
Hallock, Jeremiah II. 229
Hallock, Moses II. 310
Hancock, John I. 238
Harris. Walter, D. D II. 277
Hart, John and William I. 260
Hart, Levi, D. D I. 590
Hart, Lutlier II. 523
Haskell. Daniel II. 526
Haven, Jason I. 557
Haven, Samuel, D. D I. 495
Hawley, Gideon I. 497
Haynes, Lemuel II. 176
Hemmenway, Moses, D. D I. 541
Higginson, Francis I. 6
Higginson, John I. 91
Hilliard, Timothy I. 660
Hobart, Noah I. 375
Hobart, Peter I. 68
Hollingshead, William. D. D....II. 58
Holmes, Abiel, D. D II. 240
Holyoke, Edward I. 293
Homer Jonathan, D. D II. 173
Homer. William Bradford II. 753
Hooke, William I. 104
Hooker, Asahel, II. 316
Hooker, John, I. 504
Hooker, Thomas I. 30
Hopkins. Daniel. D. D I. 581
Hopkins, Samuel, D. D I. 428
Hopkins, Samuel, D.D. (Second) I. 519
Howe, Joseph I. 707
Howe, Nathaniel II. 307
-•OL. PAGE.
Hubbard, William I. 14&
Hunt, John 1. 686
Huntington, Joseph, D. D I. 002
Huntington, Joshua. II. 501
Hyde, Alvan, D. D II. 300
I.
Jsham, Chester II. 704
J.
Jackson, William, D.D II. 336
Judson, Ephraim II. 20
K.
Keith, Isaac Stockton, D.D II. 166
Kirkland, Samuel I. 623
Knowles, John I. 118
L.
Langdon, Samuel, D. D I. 455
Lathrop, Joseph, D. D I. 528
Lee, Andrew, D.D I. 668
Lee, Chauncy, D.D II. 288
Lee, Samuel I. 209
Lewis, Isaac, D. D I. 062
Lockwood, James I. 413
Lockwood, Samuel, D. D I. 405
Loomis, Ilarvev II. 5-55
Lord, Benjamin, D.D I. 297
Lord, John King II. 701
Loring, Israel I. 257
Lothropp, John I. 49
Lowell, John I. 338
Lyman, Joseph, D. D II. 10
M.
Maccarty, Thaddeus I. 423
Macclintock, Samuel, D.D I. 525
Marsh, James. D.D II. 692
Marsh, John, D. D I. 619
Mather Cotton, D.D I. 189
Mather, Eleazar 1. 159
Mather, Increase, D. D I. 151
Mather, Moses, D. D I. 425
Mather, Richard 1 . 75
Mather, Samuel, D.D I. 371
Mayhews Missionary I. 131
McClure, David, D. D II. 7
McFarland, Asa. D. D II. 412
McKean, Jo.seph, D. D II. 414
McKcen, Joseph, D.D II. 210
Merrill, Thomas Abbot, D. D...II. 481
Mills, Samuel John I. 672
Mills, Samuel John, Jr II. 566
Mitchell, Alfred II. 601
Mitchell. Jonathan I. 136
Moody, Joshua I. 160
Moodv , Samuel. . 1 . 243
Moore, Zephaniah Swift, D. D. . II. 392
Morse, Jedediah, D.D II. 247
Morton, Charles I. 211
Munson, Samuel and Lyman,
Henry II. 747
N.
Nettlcton, Asahel, D. D II. 542
Newell, Samuel II. 538
ALPHABETICAL INDEX.
767
VOL.
Newman, Samuel 1.
Niles, Samuel and Nathaniel ... I.
Norton, Asahel Strong, D. D.. .II.
Norton, John I.
Nott, Samuel, D. D II.
Noyes, James I.
0.
Oakes, Urian I.
Olds, Gamaliel Smith II.
Osgood, David, D. D II.
Oxenbridge, John I.
P.
Packard, Theophilus, D. D II.
Parish, Elijah, D. D II.
Park, Calvin, D. D II.
Parker, Thomas I .
Parsons, David, D. D. II.
Parsons, Levi II.
Parsons, Moses I.
Partridge, Ralph I.
Payson, Edward, D. D II.
Paysou, Seth, D. D II.
Peabody, David II.
Peabody, Oliver I.
Pearson, Eliphalet, LL. D II.
Pemberton, Ebenezer I.
Pemberton, Ebenezer, D. D I.
Perkins, Nathan, D. D II.
Peters, Hugh I.
Phillips, George I .
Phillips, Samuel I .
Pierpont, James I.
Pierson, Abraham I .
Pierson, Abraham (Second) I.
Pomeroy, Beniamin, D. D I.
Poor, Daniel, D. D II.
Popkin, John Snclling, D. D. . . .II.
Porter, Ebenezer. D. D II.
Porter, Nathaniel, D. D II.
Prentiss, Thomas, D. D I.
Prince, Thomas I.
Puffer, Reuben, D.D II.
R
Richards, James II.
Richards, William II.
Ripley, Hezekiah, D.D I.
Robbins, Chandler, D.D I.
Robbins, Philemon and Ammi
Ruhamah I .
Robinson, Isaac, D.D II.
Robinson , John I .
Robinson, William II.
Rogers, Ezekiel I.
Rogers, John I.
Rogers, N athaniel I.
Rogers, William Matticks II.
S.
Salter, Richard, D. D I.
Sampson. Ezra II.
Sanford . David II.
Sergeant, John I.
Sewall, Joseph, D. D I.
Sewall. Jotham II.
PAGE.
115
713
54
190
43
141
686
72
170
408
2G8
4G0
41
120
644
448
90
503
209
744
318
12G
250
336
1
70
15
273
205
116
174
394
617
434
351
53
678
304
206
596
688
647
573
307
463
1
131
120
146
87
730
421
122
48
888
278
430
VOL.
Shepard, Mase II.
Shepard, Samuel, D. D II.
Shepard, Thomas I.
Sheinian, .lohn I.
Smalley, John, D.D I.
Smith, Cotton jV[ather 1.
Smith, Ethan II.
Smith! John, D. D. (of Dart-
mouth College) II.
Smith, John, D. D. (of Baiigor
Seminary) II.
Smith, Josiah I.
Smitii, Thomas 1.
Spring Samuel, D. D II.
Stearns, .losiah I.
Stearns, Samuel Horatio II.
Stevens, Benjamin, D.D I.
Stiles, Ezra, D. D 1.
Stoddard, Solomon I.
Stone, Samuel I.
Stone, Timothy I.
Storr.s, Richard Salter II.
Strong, Cyprian, D.D I.
Strong. Jonathan, D.D II.
Strong, Nathan, D. D II.
Stuart, Moses II.
Swan, Roswell Randall II.
Swift, Job, D. D I.
Symmes, Zechariah I.
T.
Tappan, David, D. D II.
Taylor. Edward I .
Tavlor, Nathaniel I.
Taylor, Oliver Alden II.
Temi)le, Daniel II.
Tennev, Caleb Jewett, D. D II.
Thacher, Peter (of Milton) I.
Thacher, Peter (of Boston) I.
Thacher, Peter, D.D I.
Thaclier, Thomas I.
Thayer, Elihu, D. D II.
Todd, Jonathan 1.
Treat , Samuel I.
Trumbull, Benjamin, D.D I.
Tucker, John, D.D I.
W.
Wadsworth, Benjamin I.
Wadsworth, Benjamin, D. D...II.
A\'aldron, William I.
Wales, Samuel, D.D I.
Walter, Nehemiah and Thomas. I.
Ward, Nathaniel I.
AVarham, John I-
Waterman, Elijah II.
Welch, Moses Cook, D. D II.
Weld, Habijah I.
AV^elde , Thonias I .
AVelles, Noah, D. D I.
West, Stei)hen, D. D I.
Wheelock, Eleazar, D.D I.
Wheelwright, John I.
Whit'ield, Henry I.
Whiting, Samuel I.
AVhittel.sey, Chauncey x.
Whittelsey. Samuel I.
Wigglcsworth, Edward, D. D... I.
PAGE
265
364
59
44
559
500
296
90
389
351
326
85
575
718
484
470
172
37
631
257
651
275
34
475
485
640
47
97
177
467
725
677
472
196
266
718
126
104
383
183
584
451
220
31
316
710
217
39
10
341
234
353
24
461
548
397
83
100
81
414
268
275
768
ALPHABETICAL INDEX.
Wigglesworth, Michael....
Wilcox, Carlos
Willaid, Joseph, D.D....
Willard, Samuel
"Williams, Elisha
Williams, John
Williams, Samuel, LL. D.
Williams, Solomon, D. D.,
Williams, Stephen, D. D.
Williams, William ,
Wilson, John ■
Wines, Abijah
PAGE.
143
652
23
164
281
214
595
321
284
207
12
373
VOL. PAGE.
Wise, John I. 188
Wisner, Benjamin Blydenburg,
D. D II. 682
Wood, Samuel, D. D II. 169
Woodbridge, John I, 129
Woods, Leonard, D. D II. 438
Worcester, Leonard II. 455
Worcester, Samuel, D. D II. 398
Y.
Yale, Cyrus II. 615
ALPHABETICAL INDEX
NAMES OF THOSE WHO HAVE FURNISHED ORIGINAL LETTERS.
A.
Abbot, Abiel, D. D.
Adams, George E., D. D,
Allen, Joseph, D. D.
Allen, William, D. D.
Anderson, Rufus, D. D.
B.
Bacon, Hon. Ezekiel.
Bacon, Leonard, D. D.
Baldwin, Hon. Simeon.
Bardwell, Rev. Horatio.
Barstow, Zedekiah S., D. D.
Bayley, Rev. Kiah.
Beecher, Edward, D. D.
Bissell, Hon. Clark.
Blanchard, Amos, D. D.
Boardman, Hon. David S.
Bond, Alvan, D. D.
Bouton, Nathanael, D. D.
Bradley, Rev. Joshua.
Brigham, John C, D. D.
Brown, Samuel G., D. D.
Burgess, Ebenezer, D. D.
Burnham. Abraham, D. D.
Burns, Robert, D. D.
C.
Calhoun, George A., D. D.
Chapin, Calvin, D. D.
Cheever, George B., D. D.
Chester, Albert T., D. D.
Choate, Hon. Rufus.
Clark, Rev. Rufus W.
Clement, Jonathan, D. D.
Cogswell, Jonathan, D. D.
Condit, J. B., D. D.
Cook, Parsons, D. D.
Coolev, Timothy Mather, D. D.
Cox, Samuel H., D. D.
D.
Daggett, Hon. David.
Dana, Daniel, D. D.
Dana, Rev. Samuel.
Davies, Rev. Thomas F.
Davis, Emerson, D. D.
Day, Hon. Thomas.
Dewey, Chester, D. D.
Dewey, Orville, D. D.
VoL II. 97
Dimmick, Luther F., D. D.
Dutton, Hon. Henry.
Dwight, William T., D. D.
E.
Eldridge, Rev. Joseph.
EUingwood, John W., D. D.
Ely, Alfred, D. D.
Emerson, Brown, D. D.
Emerson, Ralph, D. D.
Emmons, Ebenezer, M. D.
F.
Felton, C.C, LL. D.
Field, David D., D. D.
Fisher, Rev. Josiah.
Fitch, Eleazar T., D. D.
Fowler, Professor William C.
Francis, Convers, D. D.
French, Jonathan, D. D.
Frothingham N . L., D. D.
G.
Gibbs, Professor Josiah Willard.
Goodell, Rev. William.
Goodrich, Chauncey A., D. D.
Goodrich, Hon. Elizur.
Gridley, Rev. Amos D.
H.
Hackett, Horatio B., D. D.
Haddock, Charles B., D. D.
Hall, Edwin, D. D.
Hallock, Gerard, Esq.
Haven, Samuel H., Esq.
Hawes. Joel, D. D.
Hewitt, Nathaniel, D. D.
Hickok, Laurens P., D. D.
Hitchcock, Edward, D. D.
Hooker, E. AV., D. D.
Hooker, Rev. Horace.
Hopkins, Mark, D. D.
Hough, Joliii, D. D.
Houghton, Rev. William A.
Humphrey, Heman, D. D.
Huntington, Rev. Daniel.
Huntington, F. D., D. D.
Hurd, Isaac, D. D.
Hurlbut, Rev. Joseph.
Hyde, Rev. James T.
770
ALPHABETICAL INDEX.
Ide, Jacob, D. D.
I.
J.
Jenks, William, D. D.
Jones, Rev. E. C
Judson, Hon. Andrew T.
K.
King, Jonas, D. D.
Kingsley, James L., LL. D.
Labaree, Benjamin, D. D.
Larned, Rev. William A.
Lathrop, Leonard E., D. D.
Lawrence, E. A., D. D.
Lee, Mrs. Eliza Buckminster.
Lee, Rev. William S.
Lord, David N., Esq.
Lord, Nathan, D. D.
Lowell, Charles, D. D.
M.
Maltby, John, D. D.
Marcy, Hon. William L.
Marsh, Rev. Frederick.
May, Rev. Samuel J.
M'Ewen, Abel, D. D.
Mead, Rev. Mark.
Merwin, Rev. Samuel.
Morris, Rev. Myron N.
Morse, Rev. Abner.
Morse, S. F. B., Esq.
Murdock, James, D. D.
Murray, Nicholas, D. D.
N.
Nelson, John, D. D.
Nelson, Levi, D. D.
Norton, Asahel S., D. D.
Nott, Eliphalet, D. D.
Nott, Samuel, D. D.
Nott, Rev. Samuel.
Noyes, Daniel J., D. D.
0.
Olmsted, Denison, LL. D.
Osgood, Miss Lucy.
Osgood, Samuel, D. D.
Otis, Hon. Harrison Gray.
Packard, Professor A. S.
Packard, Theophilus, D. D
Palmer, Rev. Edward.
Palmer, Ray, D. D.
Park, Edwards A., D. D
Peabody, A. P., D. D.
Peters, Absalom, D D
Pierce, John, D. D.
Pierpont, Rev. John.
Pitman, Rev. B. H.
Pomeroy, S. L., D. D.
Poor, Daniel, D. D.
Porter, David, D. D.
Porter, Noah, D. D.
Putnam, Israel, W., D. D.
Putnam, Hon. Samuel.
Q-
Quincy, Josiah, LL. D.
R.
Rand, Rev. Asa.
Rantoul, Robert, Esq.
Richards, Rev. George.
Robbins, Rev. Royal.
Robbins, Thomas, D. D.
Robinson, Edward, D. D.
Robinson, Isaac, D. D.
Savage, James, LL. D.
Sawyer, Rev. John.
Sedgwick, Miss Catharine M.
St^wall, Rev. Jotham.
Shaw, Hon. Lemuel.
Shepard, George, D. D.
Shepard, Thomas, D. D.
Sherman, Hon. Roger Minot.
ShurtleflP, Roswell, D. D.
Sigourney, Mrs. L. H.
Silliman, Benjamin, LL. D.
Smalley, Elam, D. D.
Smith, David, D.D.
Smith, Hon. John Cotton.
Smith. A^orthiugton, D. D.
Snell, Thomas, D. D.
Stearns, J. F., D. D.
Stearns, W. A., D. D.
Stone, Rev. A. L.
Stone, Rev. Micah.
Stone, Rev. Tinnothy.
Stone, Rev. Thomas T.
Storrs, R. S., D. D.
Stowe, Calvin E., D, D.
Strong. Hon. Lewis.
Stuart, Professor.
Swift, Hon. Samuel.
T
Talcott, Rev. Harvey.
Tappan, Benjamin, D. D
Taylor, Hon. H. W.
Taylor, Nathaniel W., D. D
Thompson, Joseph P.. D. D.
Thurston, David. D. D.
Todd, John, D. D.
Torrey, Joseph, D. D.
Tyler, Bennett, D. D.
W.
Waldo, Rev. Daniel.
Ware, Rev. William.
Warner, Rev. Aaron.
Washburn, Hon. Emery.
Waterbury, Jared B., D. D.
Wayland, Francis, D. D.
Wells, Rev. Nathaniel.
Wheeler, John, D. D.
White, Hon. Daniel Appletoa.
Whiton, JohnM., D.D.
ALPHABETICAL INDEX.
771
Willard, Professor Sidney.
Williams, Rev. Eleazar.
Willis, N. P., Esq.
Williston, Rev. Payson.
Williston, Seth, D. D.
Wines, E. C, D. D.
Withington, Leonard, D. D.
Wood, Rev. A. A.
Woodbridge, John, D. D.
Woodbridge, Timothy, D. D.
Woods, Leonard, D. D.
Woodworth, Hon. John.
Worcester, Samuel M., D. D.
Y.
Yale, Cyrus.
Tale, Elisha, D.D.
ALPHABETICAL INDEX
NAMES INCIDENTALLY INTRODUCED EITHER IN THE TEXT OR THE NOTES.
Abbot, Hull
Abbot, Jacob
Abercrombie, Robert,. . . .
Adams, Ebenezer
Adams, John
Adams, Joseph
Adams, Thomas
Adams, "William
Aiken, Solomon
Alden, John
Alden, Timothy
Allen, James
Allen, Jeremiah
Allen, Jonathan
Allen, Moses
Allen, Solomon
Allen, Solomon Metcalf. .
Allen, Thomas
Ames, "William
Andrew, Samuel
Andrews, Elisha Deming.
Andrews, William
Applcton, John
Ashley, Jonathan
Atwater, Noah,
Avery, David
Avery, John
Avery, Joseph
Backus, Simon
Backus, Simon
Bacon, Ezekiel
Bacon, John
Badcock, Josiah
Badger, Stephen
Bailey, "Winthrop
Baily , Thomas
Baker, Joel
Balch, Thomas
Baldwin, Samuel
Ball, Heman
Bancroft, James H
Barker, Nehemiah
Barnard, Edward
Barstow, George
VOL. PAGE.
241
346
335
438
350
456
235
235
87
449
449
164
164
483
607
607,608
612
48
32
269
538
237
301
207
537
697
127
344
231
231
686
086
32
302
617
202
245
15
386
537
760,761
636
200
646
Bartlett, John
Bartlett, Nathaniel
Bartlett, Shubael ,
Barton, Titus Theodore.
Bascom, "William
Bass, Benjamin
Bassett, Amos
Baxter, Joseph
Bayley, Abner
Bayley, James
Beach, James
Beckley, Hosea
Belcher, Joseph
Bell, Benjamin ,
Bellamy, Jonathan
Bemis, Stephen
Benedict, Abner
Benedict, Noah
Bigelow, Jacob
Blackman, Benjamin ...
Blanchard, J. H. T
Blowers, Thomas
Boardman, Benjamin . . .
Boardman, Daniel
Bordwell, Joel
Bowen, Penuel
Bowman, Jonathan
Bradford, Ebenezer . . . .
Bradley, Dan
Bradstreet, Simon
Bradstreet, Simon
Brewer, Daniel
Briant, Lemuel ,
Bridge, Josiah
Bridge, Matthew
Bridge, Thomas
Briggs, James
Brimsmead, "William . . .
Brinsmade, Daniel
Brockway, Diodate
Brockway, Thomas ....
Brooks, Edward
Brown, Aaron
Brown, Clark ,
VOL. PAGE.
243
638
192
87
243
350
294
316
389
186
319,320
326
219
87
406
537
682
407
206
144
127
310
513
468
672
708
140
598
656
241
242,243
385
499
518
302
163
408
256
631
605,606
605
558
15
485
ALPHABETICAL INDEX.
773
VOL. PAGE.
Brown. Cotton II. 73
Brown, Elijah I. 514
Brown, Joseph II. 211
Brown, Richard I. 458
Brown, William I. 657
Brownson, David I 468
Buckingham, Daniel I. 648
Buckingham, Stephen I. 261
Buckingham, Thomas I. 260
Buckingham, Thomas I. 260
Buckminster, Joseph II. 108
Buckmin.ster, Joseph II. 108
Buckminster, Joseph II. 108
Buckminster, Thomas ■ II. 108
Bulkly, Edward I. 53
Bulklv, Gershom I. 53
BulklV. John I. 53
BulklV, John I. 53
BulklV. Peter I. 53
Bull , Nehemiah I. 207
Bunker, Benjamin. .. I 144
Burr, Isaac I 424
Burr, Jonathan I. 125
Burroushs, Eden II. 90
Burt, F^ederal II. 468
Burt, Sylvester I. 538
Byles, Mather I. 379
Calef, Jonathan I. 544
Camp; Joseph Eleazar II. 592
Camp, Samuel I. 664
Carv, Thomas I. 200
C haddock, Calvin I. 697
Champion, Judah I. 512
Champney, Joseph II. 25
Chandler, James I. 454
Chandler, Samuel I. 274
Chapin, TT alter II. 481
Chase, Amos I. 592
Chauncy, Barnabas I- 114
Chauncy, Charles I. 114
Chauncy, Elnathan I. 114
Chauncy, Ichabod I. 113
Chauncy, Isaac I. 113
Chauncy, Isaac I. 114
Chauncy, Israel 1. 114
Chauncy, Nathaniel I. 114
Chauncy, Robert I. 114
Checkley , Samuel 1 . 313
Checkley, Samuel I. 313
Cheever, Amos I. 253
Cheever, Samuel I. 253
Cheever, Thomas I. 144
Chipman. John II. 100
Clap, Nathaniel I. 349
Clap, Roger I. 16
Clap, Thomas I. 350,351
Clark, Azariah II. 303
Clark, Pitt I. 679
Clark. Timothy II. 145
Clark, Thomas ■ I. 45
Clark, AVilliam I. 292
Cleaveland, Ebenezer I. 458
Cleaveland, John I. 460
Cobbet, Samuel I. 102
Cogswell, James I. 446
Cogswell, Mason Fitch I. 446
Cogswell. Samuel I. 446
Collins, Nathaniel I. 183
Collins, Nathaniel I. 183
Colton, Benjamin I.
Colton, George I.
Conant, AVilliam II.
Cone, Salmon II.
Cooke, Samuel II.
Cooke, "William I.
Cornelius, Elias II.
Cotcon, John I
Cotton, Josiah I.
Cotton, Nathaniel I.
Cotton, Seaborn I.
Cotton, Ward I.
Crosby, Joshua II.
Croswell, Andrew I.
Curwin, George I.
Gushing, Caleb I.
Gushing, Jacob I.
Dane, Francis I.
Dane, John II.
Danforth, John I.
Danforth, Jonathan I.
Danforth, Samuel I.
Danforth, Thomas I-
Davids, James I.
Day, Mills I.
Deane, Samuel I.
Dennis, Josiah I.
Dennison, John I.
Devotion, Ebenezer I-
Devotion, Ebenezer I.
Devotion, John I-
Dexter, Samuel I.
Dickinson, Timothy I.
Diman, James I.
Dodge, Ezekiei I.
Doolittle, Benjamin I.
Dorr, Edward I.
Dorrance, Gordon I.
Dow, Moses II.
Downing, Sir George I.
Dudley, Elias I.
Dudley, Nicholas I.
Duramer, Jeremy I.
Dummer, Shubael I.
Dunbar. Samuel I.
Dunster, Isaiah II.
Dunton, John I.
Dury, John I.
Dwight, Benjamin Woolsey. . . .II.
Dwight, Henry Edwin II.
Dwight, John H.
Fames, Jonathan I-
Eastman, Tilton H-
Eaton, Elisha I.
I
I.
I.
I.
I.
I.
I.
I.
Eliot, Andrew I.
Eliot, Augustus I.
Eliot, Benjamin I.
Eliot, Jacob I.
Eliot, John I
Eliot, Joseph I
Eliot, Samuel I
Eaton, Joshua . . . .
Eaton, Nathaniel .
Edwards, Pierpont
Edwards, Timothy
Fells, Edward . . • .
Fells, Nathaniel. ..
Fells, Nathaniel - .
Eliot i Andrew
. PAGE.
180
180
265
204
73
386
633.634
' 29
301
219
29
574
142
322
254
453
514
198
879
140
140
140
140
205,206
690
327
146
149
180
180
262
559
698
296
714
207
387
549
32
172
697
578
92
243
559
450
92
56
158
158
158
452
91
613
494
125
334
334
383
301,362
361,362
420,421
421
272
22
322
21
21, 22
774
ALPHABETICAL INDEX.
VOL. PAGE.
Eliot, Samuel I. 272
Ellis, John I. G04
Ellis, Jonathan I. 009
Ellswortli, John II. 8
Ely, Zebulon II. 192
Emerson, Ezckiel II. 431
Emerson, John I. 108
Emerson, John I. 168
Emerson, John I. 245
Emerson, John Edwards 11.715,716
Emerson, Joseph I. 245
Emerson, Joseph I. 245
Emerson, Joseph I. 599
Emerson, William I. 245
Emery, Samuel I. 242
Estabrook, Benjamin I. 185
Estabrook, Joseph I. 185
Estabrook, Joseph I. 518
Evans, Israel II. 138
Evarts, Jeremiah II. 637
Everett, Moses I. 559
Everett, Oliver I. 559
Farley, Stephen II. 375
Fessenden, Benjamin II. 801
Firmin, Gyles I. 40
Fish, Elisha I. 697
Fisher, Hugh I. 351
Fisher, Jesse I. 538
Fisk, Elisha I. 698
Fiske, Abel II. 346
Fiske, Moses I. 107
Fiske, Moses II. 367
Fiske, Thaddeus I. 519
Fitch, Jabez I. 180
Fitch, James I. 180
Fletcher, Nathaniel Hill II. 99
Flint, Jacob II. 466
Flynt, Henry I. 116
Flynt, Henry I. 116
Flynt, Josiah I. 116
Forward, Justus II. 297
Foster, Daniel II. 142
Foster, Isaac II. 142
Fowler, Abraham II. 230
Fowler, Amos I. 383
Fox, John I. 354
Fox, Jabez I. 354
Foxcroft, Samuel I. 310
Frisbie, Levi I. 402
Frisbie, Levi I. 402
Frost, John II. 283
Gager. William I. 180
Gannett, Caleb II. 244
Gannett, Thomas Brattle II. 244
Gay, Ebenczer I. 537
Gav. Ebcnezer I. 537
Gibbs, Henry I. 202
Gile, Samuel I. 580
Gilman, Tristram II. 519
Glover, Jesse I. 126
Glover, Pelatiah I. 178
Goodrich, Chauncy I. 512
Goodrich, Elizur I. 512
Goodrich, Samuel I. 512
Gookin, Nathaniel I. 237
Gookin, Nathaniel I. 237
Gookiu, Nathaniel I. 2-37
Gould, Jonathan II. 100
Gould, Vinson II. 62
VOL. PAGE.
Graham, Chauncy I. 315
Graham, Jt)hn I. 315
Graham, Hicliard Crouch I. 315
Graves, Starling II. 229
Graves, William II. 10
Gray, Ellis I. 373
Green, Benjamin I. 519
Green, Joseph I. 273
Gridley, Elrjah I. 6-53
Gridley, Ralph Wells I. 653
Griswold, Darius Oliver II. 524
Griswold, Stanley I. 468
Grosvenor, Daniel I. .359
Grout, Jonathan II. 408
Gurley, John II. 192
Hale, Enoch II. 572
Hale. James I. 170
Hale, Moses I. 448
Hale, Richard I. 170
Hale, Robert I. 170
Hale, Samuel I. 170
Hall, Daniel II. 319
Hall, Nathaniel II. 225
Hall, Samuel I. 287
Hall, Theophilus I. 669
Hallock, Jeremiah Humphrey. II. 232
Hancock, Ebcnezer 1. 238,239
Hancock, John 1.240,241
Hancock, Thomas I. 241
Harrington, Timothy I. 239
Harrison, Roger II. 531
Harvard, John I. 48
Hawley, James I. 500
Hawley, Thomas I. 438
Helyer, Jonathan I. 350
Hemmenway, Phineas I. 541 ,542
Hiacoomes I. 132
Higginson, Francis I. 10
Higginson, Francis I. 92
Higginson, Henry I. 92
Higginson, John I. 92
Higginson, Nathaniel I. 92
Higginson, Thomas I. 92
Hill, Abraham I. 386
Hill, Ebenezer II. 211
Ililliard , Joseph I. 661
Hilliard. Timothy I. 661
Hinsdell, Ebenezer I. 280
Hitchcock, Enos II. 99
Hobart, Gcrshom I. 69
Hobart , Japheth I. 70
Hobart, Jeremiah I. 69
Hobart, John Sloss I. 376
Hobart, Joshua I. 69
Hobart, Nehemiah I. 69
Holt, Nathan I. 274
Holt, Thomas I. 585
ITolvoke, Edward Augustus. • . I. 296
Hooker, Nathaniel II. 1
Hooker, Samuel I. 37
Hopkins, Samuel 1. 519,520
Hotchkiss, Frederick William. I. 262
Howe, Pcrley J. 707
Hubbard , Ebcnezer I. 580
Hubbard; John I. 537
Hubbard, John II. 10
Hubbard, .lohn II. 269
Hubbard, Robert I. 607
Huit, Ephraim I. 11
ALPHABETICAL INDEX
775
VOL. PAGE.
Hull, Aretius Bevil II. 593
Humplireys, Daniel I. 315
Huntington, Enoch 1. 606,607
Huntington, John I. 299
Huntington, Jonathan II. 177
Hurlbut, Rufus II. 468
Hutchinson, Anne I. 13
Hutchinson, Aaron I. 452
Hyde, Alvan, II. 303
Hyde, John II. 192
Jackson, Joseph I. 441
Jacob, Henry I. 49
James, Thomas I. 47
James, Thomas I. 47
Jaques, RichartI I. 460
Jefferds, Samuel I. 542
Jenkins, Charles II. 507
Jennison, WiUiam I. 292
Jerome, Amasa 1. 550
Jewett, David .II. 401
Johnson, Edward I. 66
Jones, John I 51
Judd, Jonathan I. 335
Judson, Adoniram II. 22, 23
Keep, John I. 287
Kellogg, David II. 207
Kellogg, Elijah I. 722
Kellv, John I. 544
Kendall, David II. 243
Kendall, Samuel I. 207
King, Walter II. 319
Kinne, Aaron II. 264
Kirkland, Daniel 1. 623,624
Knapp, Joshua I. 370
Lane, Job 1.636,637
Lane, Otis II. 243
Langdon , John I. 410
Lankton,Levi II. 310
Leavenworth, Mark II. 288
Lee, Jonathan II. 288
Lee, Joseph I. 518
Leonard, Elijah I. 646
Leslie, George II. 307
Leverett, John I. 147
Lewis. Isaac I. 667
Lewis', John II. 324
Lewis. Zechariah I. 666
Litchfield, Paul II. 447
Little, Ephraim I. 348
Lockwood, William I 413
Lombard, Solomon I. 327
Lord , Joseph 1 . 140
Lorhig, John I. 259
Lyman , Isaac II. 113
Man, Samuel I. 197
Man&field, Achilles II. 821
March , Edmund I. 292
Marsli, Daniel II. 116,117
Marsh, Ebenezer Grant I. 623
Mai:h, Elisha I. 386
Marsh, Joseph I. 240
Martindale, Stephen II. 299
Mason, Elihu II. 3
Mason, Thomas I. 679
Mather. Nathaniel I. 80
Mather, N athaniel I. 152
Mather, Samuel 1 . 79
Mather, Samuel I. 152
Maverick, John. I. 10,11
VOL. PAGE.
May, Eleazar I. 414
May, Hezekiah II. 250
Mayhew, Joseph I. 133
Mayhew, Matthew I. 132
Mayhew, Nathan I. 133
Mayhew, Thomas I. 132
Mayhew, Zechariah I. 133
McKiustry, John I. 357
McKinstry, John I. 357
Meacham, Joseph I. 217
Mellen, John II. 419.450
Mellen, John II. 450
Meriam, Jonas II. 173
Merriam, Matthew I. 669
Merrick, Jonathan 1 . 631
Merrill, Daniel II. 225
Merrill, Giles I. 200
Merrill, Nathaniel II. 269
Merwin, Noah II. 351
Miller, Jonathan I. 690,691
Mills, Edmund I. 696
Mills, Gideon II. 229,230
Mills, Jedediah 1.662, II. 5
Miltimore, James II. 117
Mitchell, Jonathan I. 137
Mitchell, Justus I. 666
Mitchell, Samuel I. 137
Mix, Stephen I. 281
Monis, Judah I. 228
Moody, Amos I. 454
Moody, Joseph I. 248,249
Moore, Abraham II. 218
Morgan, Solomon II. 526
Morrill, Isaac I. 580
Morse, Jedediah II. 247
Moseley, Samuel 1 . 446
Moss, Reuben 1 . 585
Morton, Nathaniel I. 66
Muu.son, Samuel II. 364
Murdock, Jonathan II. 41
Murdock, Thomas Jewett II. 356
Nason, Reuben II. 383
Newman, Antipas I. 116
Newman, .John II. 15
Newman, Noah I. 116
Newmarcli, Jolin I. 487
Newton, Roger I. 37
Newton, Roger I. 513
Newton, Roger I. 513
Niles, Samuel I. 713
Noble, Oliver I. 602
Norris, Edward I. ~1
Norton, Herman II. 274
N orton , John 1 . 207
Nott, Abram II. 190
Noyes, Edmund I- 453
Noyes, James I- 44
Noves, James I- 362,363
Noyes, John I. 362
Noyes, John I. 362
Noyes, Joso])!! I. 362
Noyes, 3Iatf]iew I. 513
Noyes, Moses I. 44
Noyes, Nathaniel II. 87
Noyfs, Nicholas I. 91
Obookiah, Henrv H. 293
Oliver, Daniel. ." H. 43
Osborn, Benin rain M. 351
Osborn '. Svl vanus I. 690
776
ALPHABETICAL INDEX
VOL. PAGE.
Osgood, John II. 240
Osgood, Tliuddeus I. 538
Owen, John I. 235
Paige, Reed I. 585
Paine, Joshua I. 722
Palmer, David I. 669
Pahiier, Joseph II. 449
Palmer, Stephen I. 559
Parker, Stephen I. 280
Parkman, Ebenezer I. 256
Parmelee, Philander II. 546
Parish, Ariel II. 269
Parsons, David II. 120
Parsons, David II. 120
Parsons, Elijah 1 . 607
Parsons, Joseph I. 324
Parsons, Obadiah I. 449
Patten, William I. 592
Patten, William I. 592
Payson, Edward I. 273
Payson, John II. 214
Pavson, Phillips II. 209
Pavson, Phillips II. 210
Payson, Phillips II. 214
Peabody, William Augustus.. . II. 495
Peabody, Oliver I. 319
Peabody, Stephen II. 104
Peraberton, Ebenezer ..II. 415
Perkins, N athan I. 2, 3
Perlev, Samuel II. 307
Perry, David II. 303
Perrv, Joseph I. 231
Pettingill, Amos II. 524
Phelps, Amos Augustus II. 307
Phillips, George I. 17
Phillips, John 1. 274,275
Phillips, Samuel I. 17
Phillips, Samuel I. 274
Phillips, William I. 275
Pickering, Theophilus I. 458
Pierpont, John I. 205
Pike, James I. 189
Pike, Joseph I. 189
Pillsbury, Levi II. 211
Pillsbury, Enoch II. 269
Piiineo.Bezaleel I. 605
Pitkin. Timothy I. 347
Pond, Enoch..". II. 370
Potter, Isaiah II. 170
PotAvine, Thomas II. 9
Powers, Peter II. 346
Prentice, John I. 256
Prentice, Joshua I. 304
Prentice, Thomas I. 242
Prentiss, Thomas I. 679
Prescott, Benjamin I. 313
Preston, John B I, 645
Prudden, Nehemiah I. -585
Punderson, Thomas II. 477
Putnam. Aaron I. 358
Putnam, Daniel I. .358
Pygan, Alexander I, 235
Pynchon, William I. 57
Rand, William I. 386
Randolph, Edward I. 154
Rawson. Grindall I. 168
Rawson! Grindall I. 168
Rawson, Grindall I. 168
Raynolds, Freegrace II, 62
VOL, PAGE.
Raynolds, Peter I. 180
Reed, Samuel II. 122
Reed, Solomon II. 122
Reed, Solomon II. 122
Reed, Timothy II, 122
Reyner, John I, 112
Rice, Asaph I, 493
Richardson, Gideon I, 260
Richardson, John I. 130
Richmond, Edward II . 417
RiddeL William I, 520
Ripley, David I. 648
Ripley, Sylvanus I. 401
Ripley, William B I, 649
Robbins, Francis I, 870
Robbins, Nathaniel II. 73
Roberts, Joseph I. 419
Roberts, Nathaniel I. 410
Robinson, John 1 . 697
Robinson, John .II. 131
Roby, Joseph II. 77, 78
Rockwell, Lathrop I. 634
Rogers. Daniel I. 147
Rogers, Daniel, I. 147
Rogers, Daniel, I. 147
Rogers, John I. 147
Rogers, John I. 147
Rogers, Nathaniel I. 147
Rogers, Nathaniel I. 147
Rolt'e, William II. 414
Rowland, William F I. 722
Riiggles, Benjamin II. 142
Ruggles, Samuel I. 576
Ruggles, Thomas I. 261
Ruggles, Thomas I. 261
Ruggles, Thomas II. 490
Russell, John I. 178
Russell, Jonathan I. 178
Russell, Jonathan I. 178
Russell, Noadiah I. 261
Russell, Noadiah II. 237
Russell, Samuel I. 175
Russell, William II. 237
Scott, Jonathan I. 617
Scott, Thomas I. 283
Searle, John II. 104
Seccombe, John I. 209
Seccombe, Joseph I. 280
Sergeant, John I, 392,393 394
Sewall, Samuel 1 . 280
Sewall, Samuel, I. 280
Sewall, Stephen I, 137
Sewalli Stephen I. 137
Sewall, Stephen I. 295
Shaw. Josiah Crocker I. 574
Shaw, William 1 . 573,574
Shepard, Jeremiah I. 67
Shepard, Samuel I. 67
Shepard, Thomas I. 67
Shepard, Thomas I. 67
Sherman, Nathaniel I. 480
Sherwin, Jacob II. 289
Shove, George J. 116
Shove, Seth I. 116
Shurtleff, William I. 456
Skelton, Samuel I. 8
Skclton, Thomas I. 580
Skinner, Ichabod Lord II. 37
Skinner, Newton I, 563
ALPHABETICAL INDEX.
777
VOL. PAGE.
Smith, Charles Jeffrey I. 402
Smith, Daniel I. 502
Smith, Daniel II. 269
Smith, David I. 599
Smith, Eli I. 697
Smith, John I. 592
Smith, Josiah I. 3-52
Smith, Peter Thacher I. 327
Smith, Ralph I. 55
Smith, AVilliam I. 67
Sparhawk, John I. 301
Sparhawk, John I. 301
Sperry , Eben Peck 1 . 580
Sprague, Edward I. 457
Starr. Peter I. 692
Stearns, Samuel I. 579,580
Stebbins, Stephen Williams I. 439
Steele, Marshfield II. 347
Stevens, John H.... I. 598
Stevens, Joseph 1. 484,485
Stiles, Abel I. 470
Stiles, Isaac I. 470
Stoddard, Anthony I. 172
Stoddard, Anthony I. 178
Stoddard, John I. 173
Stone, Ehab I. 580
Stone, Micah I. 580
Stone. Timothy 1 . 034
Storer, Seth I. 338
Storrs, Andrew I. 406
Storrs. John.. . .II. 257
Story. Isaac 1. 242
Stoughton, AYilliam I. 140
Street, Nicholas II. 202
Street, Nicholas I. 104
Street, Samuel I. 104
Strong, Job I. 335
Strong. Joseph II. 41
Strong', Joseph II. 229,230
Strong, Joseph II. 230
Strong, N athan II. 34
Strong, Nehemiah I. 481
Swift, John I. 25i)
Swift, John I. 256
Swift, Seth I. 645
Symmes, Thomas I. 273
Symmes. William I. 47
Symmes, Zechariah I. 48
Taft, Moses II. 27G
Tappan, Amos II. 105
Tappan, Benjamin II. 97
Taylor, John I. 309
Thacher. Anthony I. 127
Thacher ; Oxenbridge I. 718
Thacher, Peter I. 353
Thacher. Peter I. 197
Thacher. Ralph I. 128
Thacher, Thomas Cushing I. 720
Thompson. John II. 415
Thompson, William ...• I. 119
Thompson, William II. 415
Throop, Benjamin I. 669
Thurston, James II. 117
Tobey, Samuel I. 646
Todd, Samuel II. 288
Toppan, Christopher I. 451
Torrey, Samuel I. 183
True, Henrv I. 200
Tufts, James I. 698
Vol. II. 98
VOL. PAGE
Turell, Ebenezer II. 73
Tuttle, Moses I, 231
Underwood, N athan I. 514
Vane, Henry 1 . 28
Vinal. William I, 362
AVade, John I, 189
Wadsworth, Lemuel II. 417
Waido, N athan II , 269
Waldron, Richard I. 31G
W ales. John I. 646
Walker. Samuel II. 87
Walker; Timothy I. 200
Wallis, Hugh II. 379
Walter, N athauiel 1 . 220
Ward, Ephraim I. 558
Ward, James I. 40
Ward, John I. 40
Warren, John I. 146
Waterman, Nehemiah II. 341
AYatkins, John 1 . 530,531
ATebb, John I. 267
AA^ebb', Nathan II. 85
AA^ebber, Samuel... II. 24
AA'ebster. Josiah II. 401
AA^ebster, Samuel 1 . 291
Arebster, Samuel I. 291
AYelch, Daniel II. 234
AA'eld, Ezra I. 354
AA^elde, Edward I. 24
AA'elde, John I. 24
AA'elde, Thomas I. 24
AA^elde, Thomas I. 25
AA''elsteed, AVilliam I. 373
AA^heeler, Elijah I. 550
AYheeler, Joseph II. 441
AAHieelock, Ralph 1.397,398
AAHiipple, Edwards I. 698
AAHiipple, Joseph I. 342
AA^hitaker, Jonathan II. 243
AFhitaker, Nathaniel I. 299
AFhite, Benjamin II. 145
AA'hite, Ebenezer I. 315
Arhite, John I. 152
AA'hite, Levi. II. 276
AVliite, Stephen II. 235
AAHiite, Thomas I. 528
AVhiting, John I. 82
A\'hiting, John I. 182
AVhiting. Joseph I. 82
AA'hiting, Samuel I. 82
Whiting, Samuel I. 182
AA'hitman, Elnathan I. 315
AVhitman, Levi II. 450
AVhitman, Samuel I. 315
AAHiitman, Samuel II. 310
AVhitncy, Josiah I. 529
AAHiittelsey, Samuel 1. 269,270
AAHiittelsey, John Baldwin II. 283
AA'hittlesey, Samuel II. 326
AYhitwell, AViUiam I. 253
AAMgglesworth, Edward I. 277,278
AA'igglesworth. Samuel I. 145
Wight, Henrv I. 679
AVight, Jabez I. 299
ATilder. John I. 593
AA'ildman. Benjamin I. 315
AA'illard, John II. 30
AA'illard, Joseph I. 537
AYillard. Samuel II. 23
778
ALPHABETICAL INDEX.
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
W
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
Wi
WiU
Wi
Wi
W
Wi
Wi
Wi
ard, Simon
s, Henry
ims, Abigail
anis, Abraham.. . .
ams, Chester
ams, Ebenezer. . .
ams, Eleazar
ams, Eliphalet
ams, Elisha Scott
ams, Esther
ams, Eunice
Ezekiel
Israel
N athan
N athaniel . .
Nehemiah ..
Simon
Solomon.. . .
ams, Stephen
ams, Stephen. ...
ams, Thomas . . •
ams. War ham. . ..
ams, Warham ...
ams, William. ...
ams, William. . . .
ams, William
Eliakim
ston, Noah
ston, Payson
ams,
ams,
ams,
ams,
ams,
ams,
ams,
VOL. PAGE.
164,165
299
217
386
520
323
216
323
324
217
216,217
323
207
287,288
307
520
216
324
287
258
323
216
287
208
208.209
323
434
586
586
VOL. I'AOE.
AVilson, Edmund.. I. 14
Wilson, John I. 14
Wingate, Paine I. 452
Wingate, Paine I. 452
Winthrop, John I. 1.57
Wise, Henry I. 189
Wise, Jeremiah I. 189
Wood, Benjamin II. 172
Wood, Thomas Hough II. 11
AVoodbridge, Benjamin I. 130
Woobridge, Benjamin I. 131
Woodbridge, Benjamin I. 131
Woodbridge, John 1 . 130
Woodbridge, John I. 131
Woodbridge, John I. 131
Woodbridge, Timothy I. 130
Woodbridge, Timothy 1 . 500
Woodbury, Benjamin II. 440
Woodruff, Hezekiah North II. 485
Woodward, Aaron I. 585
Woodward, Henry II. 477
Woodward, John I. 297
Woodward, Samuel I. 208
Wooster, Benjamin I. 642
Worcester, Francis II. 398
Worcester, William II . 398
Worthington, William 1 . 501 ,502
Wright, Chester II. 145
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