Skip to main content

Full text of "Francis Wharton"

See other formats





PHIL A 1) E L 1> II I A ; 

] S f ) 1 . 

Such ;i power has I'ccalled to tbein a loved and honored 
name, and enabled them to ti'ansmit to others some 
beams of tlie sunshine of a presence whose memory 
they will ever ehei-ish as one of their dearest i)osses- 


Ix })ri'paring a Memoir of Dr. Whartox several 
difficulties beset the compiler at the very outset. To 
do justice to his character, to relate with anything like 
accuracy the achievements of his busy and useful life, 
must require some kuowledge in each of the varied 
departments where he labored so successfully. As this 
is not to he. looked for in any one pei'son, it has been 
thought best to make these pages a joint effort; to rely 
more for information upon the combined testimony 
of many than uyjon the insufficient knowledge and 
perhaps undue partiality of one ; to give by means of 
letters, and personal tributes, and printed matter — 
already published, a sketch of a truly remarkable man, 
whose influence was very great in the circle of his 
friends, and whose works take a high stand in the legal 
literature erf our country. To arrange the materials 
thus contributed has not been a difficult task. The 
materials themselves have been contributed willingly 
bv those who have had it in their power to do so. 


Chapter I. Ancestors . 

ir. Earh- Life 

" III. Life in Philadelphia 

'• IV. Life at Gambier, O. 

" Y. Visit to Europe in 1859 

" VI. Life at Gambier — concluded 

" VII. Removal to Brookline, Second Visit to Europe, 
Life at Xarrag-ansett, with Letter from Rev. 
Wni. W. Xewton, D.D 

" VIII. Life at Cambridge, by Rev. A. V. G. Allen, D.D. 

" IX. Third Journey to Europe, and Removal to 
Washington ....... 

X. Life at the Department of State, by Hon. John 
Bassett Moore, Third Assistant Secretary of 











Letters, etc., from President Welling, of (^'olumbia College, 
Hon. T. F. Bayard, Secretary of State, Hon. Robt. C. 
Winthrop, Ex-President Porter, of Yale College, etc. . 231 





Thomas Wharton, the earliest ancestor of the 'Wharton family 
in this country, was baptized in the parish church of Orton, Eng- 
land, in 1664. As baptism in those days usually took place very 
soon after birth, he must have emigrated to Pennsylvania and have 
become a Quaker while still quite young, for we find that he was 
married to Rachel Thomas, a native of Wales, in Friends' Meeting, 
Philadelphia, in 1689. He became a member of the City Council 
of Philadelphia, and was a well-known and successful merchant, 
dying in 1718. 

His son, Joseph (1707-1776), by his two marriages had eighteen 
children, a fact which may partly account for the great size and 
wide ramifications of the Wharton flimily. Like his father, he 
was a prosperous merchant, and a member of the Society of 
Friends. He built Walnut Grove, the well-known country seat 
where was held the Meschianza in 1778, and the site of which is 
now occupied by the school-house on Fifth Street below Washing- 
ton Avenue. The so-called 'Meschianza' need not be described 
here ; it will be remembered as a sort of fete arranged by the 
unfortunate Major Andr^, and given to the British officers and 
loyal ladies of Philadelphia on May 18, 1778, while the Revolu- 
tionists were actually attacking the city. 

Joseph Wharton was commonly called the 'Duke,' partly on 
account of his extreme pride and dignity of manner, and partly 


])erhap.s from his claimed descent from the last Marquis and Duke 
of Wharton, whose coat of arms with the motto " Plesyrs et 
Faites d'Armes" he always used, though an equally proud de- 
scendant of his refused to bear it. Dr. Wharton was fond of 
relating old family anecdotes, which have been handed down to 
us as to the ' Duke's' very un-Quakerlike love of pomp. 

The first wife of Joseph Wharton, Hannah Carpenter, was the 
mother of his son Isaac (1745-1808), who married Margaret 
Rawle. He was the first owner of the beautiful country seat 
'Woodford,' now inclosed in Fairmount Park, which adjoined 
'Harley,' the seat of his wife's fiimily, the Rawles. Woodford 
^^as built as a refuge from the yellow fever then devastating 
Piiiladelphia, so far was it thought from the city wiiich now has 
encroached upon its lawns. 

His son, Thomas Isaac (1 791-1 85G), was the father of the sub- 
ject of this memoir. No better account of his life can be given 
than that written by Dr. Whai'ton for the ' Wharton Book.' 

" He graduated at an early age at the University of Pennsyl- 
vania, and shortly after graduating, Ix'gan the study of law in the 
office of his uncle, Mr. William Kawle, then a lawyer of large 
])ractice in Philadelphia, and previously district attorney under 
Washington's administration. In the war of 1812, Mr. Wharton 
served as a captain of infantry, and w^as engaged, m ith his company, 
in the duties at -Camp Dupont. At the close of the war he began 
the practice of law in Philadelphia, and in the twenty-fifth year of 
his age married Arabella, second daughter of Mr. John Griffith, a 
merchant of Philadelphia, son of the attorney-general of New 
Jersey, of the same name, and brother of Judge William Griffith, 
a judge of the Circuit Court of the United States, and author of 
several law treatises. Mr. Wharton was a diligent and discrimi- 
nating student, and at an early period of his life was distinguished 
for his literary taste and skill. He was one of the contributors to 
the ' Portfolio,' under Mr. Dennie's management, and he became 
afterwards one of the editors of the ' Analectic Magazine.' It was 
to law, however, that his studies were principally given ; and in 
this department they bore rijje fruit. To him, in connection with 
his uncle, Mr. Rawle, and Judge Joel Jones, the codification of the 
civil statutes of Pennsylvania was committed ; and the code they 
reported, a document much in advance of the legislation of the 


day, is marked by the impress of their wisdom, learning, and skill. 
He was the author of the first edition of Wharton's Digest, and of 
the six volumes of Wliarton's Rej)orts. In addition to these works, 
several historical and literary addresses are in print bearing his 
name ; addresses marked by strong sense, clear tiiouglit, and a 
nervous and elegant style. Mr. "Wharton's chief labors, however, 
were given to his profession, in which he acquired, cliieHy as 
counsel on matters of title, a large and commanding practice. In 
politics he was attached to the ^^'llig party during its existence, and 
was a personal and political friend of Mr. Clay. On the dissolu- 
tion of the Whig party, his attaciiments and constitutional prin- 
ciples led him to unite with leading members of that party in 
union with the Democratic. He died on April 7th, 1856, leaving 
beliiud him the reputation not only of high legal abilities, but of 
spotless integrity and of undaunted courage in the performance of 
duty. Of purity and usefulness in domestic relations no truer ex- 
ample could be found." 

Mr. Thomas I. Wharton left the Society of Friends, of course, 
when he bore arms in the war pf 1812, and he furtiier ratified his 
return to the churcli of lu's forefathers, of whicli his son was to be 
so faithful a champion, by " marrying out of meeting." His wife 
was an Episcopalian, and they were married in old St. Mary's 
Church, Burlington, New Jersey, that quaint little building which 
still stands close to the edge of the Delaware, but is now used as a 

This is a brief account of the direct male ancestors of Dr. 
AVharton. He was wont to remark of them that not one had 
lived to be seventy years of age, and to predict of his own future, 
what has been too sadly verified. 

The family genealogy, however, contains a number of interesting 
men from whom Dr. AVharton was not directly descended, but of 
whom lie frequently spoke in that charming manner which made 
all family annals interesting. 

Among these, the best known is Thomas Wharton, the first 
Governor of Pennsylvania under the Constitution of '76, who was 
from his early manhood a prominent supporter of the colonies, and 
whose name is handed down as one of the foremost men in Phila- 
delphia of his day. His career is too well known to require re-cap- 
itulation here — an admirable sketch of his life has been reprinted 


from the ' Historical Magazine,' and may be found in the ' Wharton 
Book.'* But some of Dr. "Wharton's Family, who are not so well 
remembered, were men of remarkable ability and individuality, in 
whom we may see family traits which reappeared in later days. 

One of these interesting characters was Robert Wharton, a son 
of Joseph Wharton, but who left no descendants. He was a man 
of rare gifts, who in early life was, curiously enough, ajiprenticed 
to a hatter, partly from a distaste for study, but also following a 
custom set by William Penu. He did not long practice his trade, 
of which in later life he was never ashamed (having his share of 
the 'Wharton pride'), although he became successively alderman 
and several times Mayor of Philadelphia. He was also Colonel 
of the City Troop. , For some very striking instances of his courage 
and sagacity in connection with the yellow fever in Philadelphia, the 
shipping riots, and the war of 1812, see the 'Wharton Boolv.' 

Samuel Wharton, a great-uncle of Dr. Wharton, was another 
man of prominence in his day, a member of the City Councils, of 
the Colonial and State Legislatures, and of other important corpo- 
rations. He was a correspondent of Benjamin Franklin as to the 
' Ohio Company,' a project for populating the bank of the Ohio 
Eiver which came to nothing, owing to the Revolution. He was 
always foremost in Revolutionary matters, and a distinguished 
scholar as well as successful merchant. 

Dr. Wharton's uncle and godfather, Francis Rawle Wharton, 
of whom he always spoke with peculiar affection, was a man of 
great distinction in his day, and among more or less distant cousins 
may be mentioned the eminent lawyer, George M. Wharton, Wil- 
liam Wharton, a prominent member of the Hicksite branch of the 
Society of Friends, and many others celebrated in the annals of 

* " Genealojry of the Wharton Family of Philadclpliia, 1«G4 to 1880, by 
Anne H. Wharton, member of the Historical Society of Philadelphia." 
Philadelphia, 1880. 

f His brother, Henry Wharton, also must be enrolled among the distin- 
guished lawyers of the family. To quote from a leading journal : " He was 
a man of profound learning, sound judgment, and acute and subtle power of 
analysis, detecting the weak points in an adversary's argument, and strength- 
ening his own by citation of authorities." Full of bright and caustic wit, 
on the rare occasions when he used it to ridicule bad law, his criticisms were 
wry pungent and effective. See Philadelphia Ledger and Transcript of No- 
vember 12, 1880. 


It niav be added that nothiug of special interest has ever been 
discovered of the Wharton Family in England before the emigra- 
tion of Thomas, the son of Richard Wharton, of Orton, West- 
moreland. Dr. Wharton had in his possession, however, a very 
quaint old print given him l\v a friend, a collector, representing 
the t\yo daughters of Philip, the Lord Wharton of the days of 
Charles II., one of whom by a curious coincidence is named 

From Dr. AMiarton's ancestors thus catalogued, we may gather 
many traits reproduced in their descendant. To tJie industry and 
thrift that marked tlie colonist followers of William Penn, and 
tliat also characterized him, may be added a certain love of novelty 
and adventure, which, while it never interfered with or effaced iiis 
love of his early home, still gave him peculiar enjoyment in the 
fresh and changing scenes among which his lot was cast. We also 
find much in him that partook of his father's nature. Mr. Thomas 
I. Wharton was possessed of great natural sagacity, a strong sense 
of humor, and unbounded honesty. He was known, both inside 
his own circle and without it, as strictly, sometimes severely Jhs<. 
From tlie keen criticism of his caustic wit, any attempt at sub- 
terfuge, or double-dealing fled away disappointed. This does not 
sound like the description of a brilliant and successful lawyer, but 
it was in his case true. His sou, also, had an aptitude for detecting 
fraud, and an enjoyment of the humorous side of things, which 
was not always to the liking of those with whom he dealt. While 
his tenderness ever leaned to the fondest indulgence of those he 
loved, yet he could not always restrain himself from pointing t)ut 
their peculiarities, and this created offence, or rather distrust among 
those not discerning enough to understand him. Among his oppo- 
nents, tiiat is in Church and State, nothing was more dreaded than a 
touch of his gentle, but none the less powerful sarcasm. By an 
epithet well chosen, and yet good-natured, he would often dissolve 
an affectation, or an error, more speedily than would have been 
possible in months of argument. While from his father he in- 
herited this clear insight, tiiere was much in Dr. Wharton's char- 
acter that we can trace to his mother alone. 

This lady. Miss Arabella Griffith, of Bui-lington, had inherited 
from her family a powerful imagination, a strong poetic talent, a 
love of beauty, and a litcrar}- dexterity, which iiad she possessed 


ordinary health would have placed her name among the authoresses 
of our country. As it was, her life Mas passed in a sick room. 
Always an invalid, she has nevertheless left much that iier friends 
value. Letters, musical compositions, and books which, though 
never printed, show considerable ability with her pen. In addi- 
tion to this her temperament was of a peculiarly attractive and 
endearing nature. Sensitive and loving as a child, she had great 
need in her long life of seclusion and sometimes suiFering of a 
strong religious faith. This she possessed, and it brightened and 
elevated her whole character. Her room was the chosen resort of 
many tried and valued friends, whose faith she strengthened by 
her wise counsels, and whose more arduous and active life she 
sustained by the example of cheerfulness and patience she ever 
gave them. She had a peculiar gift of conversation, her reading 
was extensive, and as her mind was ever interested in what was 
passing around her, she was regarded by all who knew her as a 
most instructive and delightful companion. A lady relates of the 
extreme amiability of her disposition that she was unable to recall 
any time in which she had seen her out of temper. One day, 
after having herself received extreme provocation, she was giving 
an account of the affair to her sympatliizing invalid friend. Upon 
concluding she said, " Now, Mrs. Wharton, would you not have 
felt angry ?" " Oh, my dear cliild," said the patient listener, " it 
is a great many years since I have felt angry." With this sweet- 
ness of temper, however, was united a certain timidity, which often 
led her to a misconception of her son's brilliant and less guarded 
speech. There are letters found among his papers in the faded ink 
of fifty years ago, in whicii she urges him to be more prudent, and 
to restrain the too great freedom with which he expressed himself 
That these letters were taken in good part, is evidenced by the 
care with which they are preserved, and the memory of a mother's 
love clings around their pages still. Thus we find, that our friend 
derived from his parents a blended character. Like his father, 
keen, penetrating, strong in intellect, with a taste for philosophical 
research, and unbounded industry — like his mother, gentle, loving, 
with a gift of poetic fancy, and a peculiar felicity of expression, it 
is not surprising that his career, although moulded greatly by out- 
ward circumstances, and controlled by an irresistible Providence, 
should be such an one as is well wortliy of our liest efforts to 




We can find in referring to the early life of Dr. "NVliarton, of 
course, not many persons who are old enough to remember with 
accuracy his boyhood, and fewer still who can remember his child- 
hood. There are some, howes-er, who tell us that sixty years ago 
(he was born March 7, 1820, in that old Philadelphia mansion, 
fronting on "Walnut Street, and directly opposite to Independence 
Square) played and frolicked a singularly precocious and engaging 
child, full of life and brightness, and with a talent for mischief, 
that he often recalled himself in later days. "Once," he said, 
" while all the family were at church, I took a plaster bust of some 
dignitary of the law from my father's library, and finding it hollow 
inside, conceived the idea of supporting it on a broomstick, and 
exhibiting it at the parlor window. Here, as the good people 
retiu-ned from church (from old St. Peter's and St. James'), they 
were edified by the sight of Blackstone or Coke dancing violently 
up and down, and showing a vivacity as a ghost that he certainly 
never manifested in life." This and other boyish pranks, while 
perfectly harmless, were not without a cleverness, which his elders 
had to pretend not to admire. They were the overflow of an 
extremely active mind, and the recreation from studies of an extra- 
ordinary nature in one so young. An aged lady, a friend of his 
mother's, relates how upon a visit to the house the door opened 
and a small light-haired child of nine or ten years came in, carry- 
ing a load of books in his arms. "Well, Frank, what have you 
been reading?" said his mother. "Well, mother, I have just fin- 
ished all these books, and the one I like best is Watts on the 
Mind," was the astounding and wellnigh incredible reply. That a 
child so young should be attracted at all by a treatise such as that 
of Watts, is only to be accounted for in the same way that we 
account for the fact that Mozart read difficult music at the same 
age, and Goethe composed poems and plays. Tiiere seems to be in 


some cases a wonderful maturity of understanding in a youthful 
genius, that while even the words of a writer may not be quite 
understood, the idea is grasped, and the subject aftbrds interest. 
Just as in a foreign tongue books have often the power to charm 
us, of M'hich not every word is fully intelligible. The writings of 
Dr. Wharton in later life have often excited surprise by their won- 
derful scope and variety, by the amount of labor, and the power 
of memory they involve. This will be the less remarkable when 
we see him thus in earliest boyhood storing his mind with the 
best and most thoughtful of writers. At a time when most young 
people are in the jnirsuit of enjoyment, or forced to unwilling tasks, 
study was to him a pleasure. Books were his constant companions. 
His life was passed either with a book or a pen. His memory 
never failed to preserve and record what his diligence thus gained. 
At the age of seventeen he entered Yale College and graduated 
in 1839. Of his college days, but few records remain. They are 
princijially marked in such memorials as we have, by loving and 
wise letters from his mother to him, fidl of counsel and religious 
appeal. Their fruit was seen in his increasing steadiness and 
sobrietv of chai-acter, though he was always a model of what is 
usuallv considered praiseworthy in a young man. The following 
letter will show, however, how high was his mother's standard of 
excellence : — 

Dearest Frank : 

I need not tell you what a source of deep and intense interest 
you are to me now. Formerly, only my own honor and interests 
were involved in your well-being and doing, but now I feel that 
the honor of a greater and higher than I is involved in your walk 
and conduct. Though you have not gone through the mere cere- 
mony of making a profession of religion in confirmation, yet you 
have, with all the warmth and ingenuousness of youth, openly 
and honestly expressed yourself, and thereby avowed yourself a 
Christian. Now the honor of Christ is involved in every Christian's 
profession, and you honor or dishonor Him by your walk and con- 
versation. Indeed the whole Christian community suffers more or 
less from the unfaithfulness or carelessness of Christian professors. 
MMiat are these wounds in Thy hands?' says the jirophet by in- 
spiration. ' Those with wiiich I was wounded in the house of my 


friends' is Christ's toiioiuno: answer. Oli, then, ho\v carefully 
should we guard against wounding our blessed Saviour In- levity, 
folly, or any other besetting sin, which can dishonor a Christian 
in the sight of the world, and through him his jMaster. For the 
first time in your life you are placed in a responsible situation. 
This should lead you, dearest Frank, to great heart-searching and 
circumspection, and your mother is willing to assist you in the task, 
by unveiling to you the foibles, which are visible to every eye, in 
one so unguarded as yourself, and which ahnost neutralize the eiiect 
which the example of your early piety might have upon others. It 
is not vices I have to caution you about, but foibles — not life, but 
conversation. And inasmuch as it is in the family circle almost 
exclusively that the life is manifested, the world must mainly judge 
of a Christian by his coiivermtion. Oh, my darling Acky, here it 
is you mainly err. It was alwaj'S your besetting sin. I mean a 
trifling, vain, desultory bizarre mode of talking. Now a profes- 
sion of religion always implies .se;-/ot(.s)ie.s.s, so much so that a person's 
making such a profession is usually indicated or expressed thus : 
' Such an one has become serious,' as if religion and seriousness were 
synonymous. Sometimes when I hear you rattling on, forgetful of all 
your dignity and responsibility as a Christian, I doubt and despair; 
but then I take courage immediately when I look u^jon your sweet 
and altered deportment at home. Unfortunately you bestow the 
chief of your headlong vanity or levity upon strangers, ^^•ho can 
form no estimate of the real excellence of your home character. 
Added to this, my darling Acky, you have so much self-love, that 
when I attempt to tell you truths which none but a mother trill tell 
you, you shrink as from a surgeon's knife — you change the 
conversation as quick as lightning — instead of being desirous of 
probing yourself and knowing the whole truth. Oh ! my son, 
study seriousness ; keep a perjjctual watch over your words ; never 
fly from a subject until it has been soberly discussed, aud, above 
all, be backward in expressing opinions upon subjects with which 
you arc but partially acquainted, and, as a general rule, be modest 
aud reserved in conversation ; remember, ' shallow brooks babble, 
deep watei-s are still.' And of oue thing be certain, God, through 
the agency of his Holy Spirit, which is even now at work in your 
heart, can alone ^vork this change in you. I don't want you to be 
forever talking of religion, but I want a sc)lid, thoughtful, serious 


demeanor, which a sincere conviction of your own un^^•orthiness 
must ever produce ; if you were truly humble, you would shrink 
from display. jMay God open your eyes, and give you such a 
deep conviction of sin, and such a realizing sense of eternity, and 
such an abiding sense of the indwelling of a crucified Redeemer 
that your conversation may bear the impress of your heart ! And 
while I admonish you, my dear son, may my own soul take warn- 
ing, and may He grant me a portion of that wisdom from on high 
I so earnestly bespeak for you, and which my present humble 
cifort is intended to lead you to seek ! God will look for far 
greater Christian perfection from your generation than from the 
past, for never were there such Christian privileges since the days 
of the Apostles, and you must look to the annals of your Saviour 
for a far higher example than the writer of this letter has been able 
to set before you, however sincere may have been the desire of 
walking before her children in the fear of God, and of teaching 
them so to walk. You must look within you also, for a change 
must be wrought also within yourself. By your incongruous mixture 
of levity and religion, of truth and folly, you dishonor Christ and 
your profession. Religion is a transaction between the soul and 
God, and having once set your seal upon it, it is your part to act 
conscientiously, as one who is accountable to the Lord of the Vine- 
yard. Let your conversation be modest and retiring, never shrink- 
ing from confessing Christ when you are called upon, but shrink- 
ing from ostentation and vain display. You will perceive, dearest 
Frank, that this whole letter is addressed to one who has made a 
commencement in the religious life. I take it for granted that you 
have received into your heart the great elementary principles of 
religion ; that the way of salvation through Jesus Christ has been 
manifested to you, and that your foundation is right. My own 
conviction is, and I have formed it with great deliberation, that 
the Holy Spirit is at work in your heart, that He is striving with 
you, and the chief object of this letter is to caution you lest by a 
vain, light, and presumptuous course you alienate Christ's Comforter 
and great Teacher. For the man who calls himself a Christian is 
a spectacle to angels and to men, and he cannot take a step that 
does not involve Christ and His church. And now, my beloved 
darling son, now that you have implicated and identified yourself 
with Christ and his flock, beware how you walk and how you talk. 


You are not your own, but bought with a great price, even the 

blood of the Son of God. You are the temple of the Holy Ghost ; 

what manner of conversation then ought yours to be ? 

I cannot part with you without once more testifying to your 

sweet and amiable character and conduct at home, and it is upon 

the great change that has taken place in you in this respect, that I 

build the chief of my hopes. Nothing but the hand of God could 

have made you what you are. And, dearest Frank, if ever a son 

had a mother's prayers it is you, and with the hope that you will 

forgive me, if I have been too plain spoken, and that you will 

write me a very sweet letter of thanks, for indeed I deserve it, I 

I'emain j'ours ever affectii>natcly and iaithfully, as none other ever 

can be to you. 

A. G. \\. 

This letter, as will be readily perceived, was written to him dur- 
ing a college vacation passed away from home. It is also the first 
intimation we have of his dawning interest in religious subjects, 
soon to become the ruling if not absorbing interest of his life. 
There are several other letters from his mother in the same strain 
and showing the same faithful dealing of parental love. There 
are also letters solicitous for his health, which did not seem to be 
strong, but there are no injunctions to study ; that was jilainly a 
duty he performed only too energetically. His mother writes, 
" Pray do not over study. I do not care for your obtaining mere 
nominal honors. You say some of the young men sit up till 
twelve at night, rising at half-past four or five. This would soon 
wear you out. Do fjo to bed early — promise me this. I did 
nothing but dream of you all last night. I thought you came 
home all haggard and worn, and with yoiu' eye-sight gone, and 
I am superstitious enough to regard this dream as a warning." 
Another caution may have been more necessary. " From what 
nice young lady do you borrow your seal ? I suppose you have 
heard of H.'s engagement to S. E. What an imprudent young 
man ! With seven years of college and seminary life before him 
I really think he had better not have thought of the ministry, or, 
if that was impossible, of matrimony. He had no right to engage 
the affections and involve the prospects of a woman under existing 
circumstances. He should have shut his eyes and his heart and 


his thoughts against womankind until tliose seven years Avere past, 
and then at thirty (which will be his age when he finishes his career), 
he would have been at libert}'. ^Mien you are three or four and 
twenty I shall begin to sermonize you. At present I am truly 
grateful that you are at an unfledged age ; also I am truly grateful 
and proud to say that you are not a goose. I suppose you cannot 
get the curl out of your handwriting — though the material within 
proves it does not fit your character. Your father is very much 
pleased with your letters. He thinks them good business letters, 
and tiiat from him is great praise." 

These extracts go to show the good understanding between 
mother and son ; the anxious care for his temjioral and also' 
spiritual well-being on her pai't and the confidence and docility 
on his, that led her to tell him all her misgivings and all her hopes 
for him. At the age of nineteen he returned to PJiiladelpliia, and 
became a law student in his father's office. He was also a constant 
attendant at St. Philip's Church, and a teacher in the Sunday- 
school. His mother's influence, greater now than before, Avas ever 
at hand to deepen and strengthen the religious im]n'essions already 
received, and the dry details of law study were followed as con- 
scientiousl}' as had been the college course. His impulse was to 
enter the ministry, but from that he was dissuaded by liis father, 
who with wiser though more worldly judgment thought his gifts 
not adajited to a profession requiring the constant use of his voice. 
His j)hy8ique -was never robust, and there was a decided weakness 
of the vocal organs, which caused him antioyance all his life, and 
was finally one among the several causes of his death. 




The admission of Dr. "Wliarton to the bar in Pliiladelpliia, in 
1843, begins a new phase of liis career. Though but twenty-three 
years old, he was amply equipped with legal knowledge, and soon 
found himself with occupation on his hands. There is no need to 
explain this rapid success beyond the ever apparent and consjjicuous 
popularity of his manner, and the sagacity and effectiveness of the 
counsel he gave. Those who have known Dr. AVharton will have 
no difficulty in recalling the peculiar charm of his bearing. Wise, 
kindly, and practical in the advice he gave, the interest he took in 
the cases submitted to him, the subtilty with which he saw through 
complications, and the encoui-agiug and cheerful view he took of 
even disastrous possibilities, excited the confidence and hope of his 
clients, and they were rarely disappointed. Perhaps we are antici- 
pating a little, but at all events tiie last five years of the ten he 
spent as a practising lawyer in Philadelphia were crowned by un- 
usual and lucrative remuneration, and that is generally considered 
a test of success. Still his forte always lay in writing. Even at 
that early age his articles for magazines and criticisms of books 
were eagerly received by publishers. There was a clearness and 
point about his style, a vigor and life about his expressions that 
made him interesting to those who knew very little about the tech- 
nicalities of the subjects he treated. If this was so to the unini- 
tiated, how much more to those who were capable of undei-standing 
and appreciating him ! 

It will be well, however, to state here that this sketch is not 
intended as a history, still less as a critique of Dr. Wharton's 
books. . They have been too long before the profession, and have 
been too fully commended in the highest quarters to make any 
such process necessary. The purpose of the present writer is to 
give merely their titles and dates of publication, with such facts in- 
cidental to them as are inseparably connected with their Author's 


life iu other respects. He lived a double existence, and this not 
from choice, but because his qualities of heart ever kept pace with 
those of mind, and the needs of a fallen and suffering humanity 
made him long to devote all his powers to succor and befriend 
them. But in this purpose his physical powers fell short — voice 
and strength failed him, and the leisure thus providential!}- bestowed 
was given to that other profession for which he was also so emi- 
nently qualified. We quote in this connection from one of the 
Church papers the follo\^ing tribute : — 

"The case of the late Rev. Francis AVhartou sliows how possible 
it may be that a parish sometimes monopolizes a genius that a 
nation might have a province for. Parah'sis of the throat deprived 
the pulpit of the services of this great and eminent man, and at 
last proved fatal to him. Dr. Wharton is well known by his 
writings, and he, for years, has been the adviser of the administra- 
tion on points of international law, in which intricate and delicate 
department of jurisprudence he was an acute and learned specialist. 
Yet no doubt had he chosen his own life's work he would have 
preferred the simple lot of a parish priest, the highest lot on earth, 
to which he was dedicated by the warm vows of his youth." 

We subjoin also a letter from a life-long friend, Mr. W. He^•ward 
Drayton, of Philadelphia, which has reference to this period : — 

Philadej.phia, August 19, 1889. 

INIy Dear Mrs. Viele : 

I first knew your father when I began to study law, in 1842, in 
the office of your grandfather, Mr. Thomas I. Wharton. He was 
then about twenty years old and a most pleasing and attractive 
acquaintance. We soon became fast friends, and our regard for 
each other continued to the end of his life, though our intimacy 
was much interfered with by his abandonment of Philadcljihia 
as a residence. 

I ha%'e no doubt your father was a student from his boyhood. 
Wiiile we were together in the office he not only studied carefully, 
but devoted his leisure to writing articles for periodicals of the 
day. I remember he wrote much for 'Hunt's Merchants' Magazine', 
and though a very young man his articles were held in the highest 
esteem, and were, as I remember, usually assigned the first place. 
Early, too, in his professional life he edited the ' American and 


United States Gazette', then one newspaper, and about the same 
time the ' Episcopal Recorder.' When I first knew him he was very 
religious ; either while a student or soon after becoming a lawyer, 
he desired to give up law and study divinity : he told me he sug- 
gested this to his flither who implored him to abandon it, saying, 
" Henry and you are my only sons, he is a boy, I don't know wliat 
his tastes may be, and I have set my heart on your continuing in 
my profession." 

In deference to this wish he continued at the bar until his father's 
death, when he left practice and became a clergyman. 

While at the bar he not only worked laboriously at his profes- 
sion, but found time to compose works, both legal and literary, 
indeed continuing to do so all his life. He was in early life an 
active Democratic politician, and when John K. Kane was appointed 
Attorney-General of this State, your fiither and William D. Kellcy 
became his assistants. Your father, knowing that his voice was not 
strong enough for the strain of continuous speaking, agreed with 
Judge Kelley that he should attend to tiie court business generally, 
while your father prepared the pleadings. As he never did things 
by halves, this arrangement probably directed his mind to the 
absence of any good book on Pleading and Practice in the United 
States, and led to the preparation of the first elaborate treatise 
which brought him fame as a legal writer. This work has passed 
through nine editions, and is a text-book. From that time he 
continued, long after he had given up practice, to compose and 
publish works on legal subjects, until he became before his death, 
if not the most, certainly one of the most prolific and distinguished 
authors of law-books in our country. 

I have referred to his laborious habits. While editing it was 
his custom, when quite young, to sit up until the early morning 
hours. Once I remonstrated with him on the risk his health ran 
from this : he answered, " Do you think I run more risk than some 
other young men who keep about the same hours, going to balls 
and suppers?" I did not interfere in this way again. 

Your father was the most, perhaps the only religious man with 
whom I was thrown much in early life, and I have no doubt his 
])recept and example were of great service to me, as I know they 
were to many others, at that time, as he was a devoted Sunday- 
school teacher and superintendent. 


111 connection with INIr. Drayton's letter and in explanation of it, 
it will be well to say that Dr. Wharton's political views were, as he 
states, Democratic. In his youth he made several visits to the 
South and there saw tlie working of their domestic system in the 
house of a dearly loved younger sister, who was there happily 
married. Kot only did he see the colored peojile receiving from 
her the care and instruction their helpless condition required, but 
among her neighbors and friends whose cordial hospitality he 
enjoyed, he noticed the same state of things. It became with him 
as with many others, who were thus domesticated in the South, a 
serious question how far immediate emancipation would really help 
the colored race. ' Recognizing, as he did, the evils of slavery, he 
yet deprecated the use of violent measures, and trusted to the 
effect of gradual legislative effort to remove the causes of the bit- 
terness existing between North and South, and to active Christian 
benevolence, and growth of enlightenment to benefit the condition 
of the slave. He corresponded with some of the political leaders 
of the day. His role was ever that of peace. His many friends 
in the South, the high estimation in wiiich he held them, his con- 
viction that many of them agreed with him, and lamented truly 
the system which weighed as heavily on the master as on the slave, 
all conspired to make him shun extremists on either side. When 
however twenty years later, the flames of war burst forth, and the 
irrepressible conflict was waged, he gave his allegiance entirely to 
the cause of Union. A sermon published in the second year of the 
war called ' A willing re-Union not impossible,' gives most com- 
pletely his views on this point. As it was, however, his active 
mind and untiring industry sought scope in all the varied questions 
of the day. As a friend and correspondent tells us : " He sought 
recreation in changing his work, instead of stopping it. His books 
and papers and proof-sheets accompanied him in his journeys for 
business or pleasure, and many minutes which by most men are 
wasted were turned by him to good account. He could turn in a 
moment from social engagements to the work he had before him. 
Of course it is to be added, he had great natural gifts. To a most 
unusual facility and rapidity in literary work, he united a memory 
little short of marvellous. All the stores of his observation, his 
reflection, and his reading were instantly at his service when 
occasion required." 


Amoup; these varied pursuits, however, he began to find social 
relaxation a necessity. For a time he allowed himself to mingle 
in Philadelphia society, where he was always a favorite. Perhaps 
no man ever more fully united what seem to be almost opposing; 
qualities than did he. Incessant labor and dry if not tedious 
details in the morning ; in the evening he was the sparkling wit 
of many a dinner-table, always welcome as the most genial and 
entertaining of guests. In November, 1852, he married Miss 
Sydney Paul, a daughter of Comegys Paul, Esq., of Philadelphia. 
In this lady, of whose attractive and endearing qualities there are 
man}' still to speak, he found a most congenial companion. His 
life was full now of work and of happiness. He found one 
increased and sustained by the other. He entered largely into 
charitable and other enterprises in his native city, and there are 
several well-known and well-established institutions where his 
active and efficient aid is to this day recalled. 

As his life thus enlarged and widened its sympathies, his devo- 
tion to Church matters gradually inci'eased. In Chui'ch politics 
Dr. Wharton wa.s always termed a * Low Churchman.' While a 
member from pi'eference, from conviction, and life-long habit of 
the Episcopal Church, his was a mind too wide in its culture and 
sympathies to claim for that church any exclusive rights, or to 
look upon it as even chief in God's agencies for regenerating the 
world. He was ever a cordial admirer of the great Eeformed 
Churches, whether in our own country or abroad, a.s his writings 
will abundantly testify. He favored great toleration, both in 
doctrine and mechanism, within our own Church. And this not 
because his own scheme of doctrine or mechanism wa.s uncertain, 
l)ut because he held that individual minds must differ, and must 
work more efficiently while that difference is recognized than when 
following a forced uniformity. We can give a few extracts here 
from a pamphlet published by him on ' Voluntary Missionary 
Societies,' which, although a little premature in date, bears upon 
the point in question. 

" The responsibility of schism is often as much on those who 
drive others off, as upon those who go. The verdict of posteritv, 
I cannot but believe, will be that the two most disastrous shocks 
which the Church of England ever received arose from the appli- 
cation of the Conformity Acts to the Puritans in 1680, and to the 


Methodists in 1780. These measures were in fact a departure from 
the tolerant and eatholic platform which the Anglican Communion, 
as a National Church, adopted at the Eeformation. If they have 
been peculiarly disastrous to her — diminishing her hold on the 
middle classes and poor, abridging her practical nationality, sever- 
ing from her some of the most devoted of her sons, reducing the 
standard of piety within her borders — such a state of facts goes 
no small way to prove the importance of allowing, in a National 
Church, full liberty in all matters within the range of orthodoxy. 
But I pass this point, for the purpose of noticing that the very 
fact of the communions of which I speak, severing themselves on 
matters of temporary controversy, made tiiem, not national and 
catholic, but eclectic. The very nature of their existence renders 
it incumbent on them to present in sharp and intolerant precision 
the dogmas to promote which they seceded. And when new and 
heterogeneous, though orthodox views spring up in their own body, 
the remedy is not to enlarge their borders so as to tolerate the new 
opinions, but to have a new secession. They maintain their mis- 
sionarv unity by breaking their organic integrity. 

" Take, as an illustration of this, the Methodist Communion. It 
differed in England from the Established Church, not as to any 
question of doctrine, but as to the most efficient way in which the 
church could be worked. The day is now passed in Avhich the 
sincerity of John Wesley's attachment to the principles of the 
Church of England, as w^ll as his noble zeal and indefatigable 
industry in the cause of Christ, can be questioned. He was a great 
]\Iissionary, the greatest the Protestant Church ever knew, and it 
was a sad dav for our communion when she lost him. But he 
went forth — partly impelled by a too hasty enthusiasm — partly 
driven ; and he went forth, let it be ever remembered, on a question 
of missionary mechanism. I will not stop here to say that if con- 
scientious and fliithful men can differ on points of mere expediency 
so widely as to make an ecclesiastical separation the only alternative 
to ecclesiastical toleration, how important it is for the CImrcli -to 
learn wisdom from the past, and to grant that liberty now which 
she refused in 1780 ! It is sufficient on this point now to say, that 

as the ^Methodists seceded from us on a question of missionary 

oro-anizatiou, — as their distinctive denominational features were 
thus eclectic, not catholic' — as they worked into their constitution 


oue single and arliitrarv method of church extension, instead of 
yielding to their constituents a wise liberty — it was natural enough 
for them to impose upon their members the yoke of compulsory 
uniformity. But how has it worked? First, in 1785, went oif 
the Primit'nv Methodists who wanted liberty in one matter of me- 
chanism. Then in 1792 went the BepuMiean 3Idhodists for like 
reasons. Then in 1816 went the African Methodista. In 1819 
went another under a similar title. In 1820 went the Still wellites. 
In 1828, on what was peculiarly an economical question, for it 
concerned chieily the admission of the local preachers to an equal 
share of government with the itinerants, went the Protestant 
3Tefhodists. Then came the great division of the Church, north 
and south ; a severe shock to the country as well as to the Methodist 
Communion, and one which could readily have been averted had 
the principle of toleration in non-essentials been maintained. The 
consequence is, that the Methodist Communion has now fallen 
into ten distinct organizations. By exacting uniformiti/ it has 
unit I/. 

" The Romish Church gives us a lesson of the contrary policy 
which we may well study. That wily, though dangerous com- 
munion well knows that to preserve dogmatic unity there must be 
missionary freedom. She presents no less than tliree voluntary 
foreign missionary societies to her members, whom she invites to 
contribute at their election through either, the ' Lyons' Society for 
the Propagation of the Faith,' tlie ' Leopoldine Society,' or the 
' Society of the Holy Children.' In home missions she opens an 
almost infinite number of agencies. The religious orders sanctioned 
bv her, each of which is a missionary society in itself, approach to 
nearly one hundred in number. They are so constructed as to 
strike almost every variety of taste. Persons of ardent and pas- 
sionate temper, who look with favor upon ' new measures,' (as 
the fashion among the Congregationalists has lately been to call 
them,) she points to the Redemptionists and Passionists as forming 
organizations which unite the most vehement preaching with the 
most dramatic machinery. To the sedate and contemplative, who 
look upon the propagandism of a holy and placid life as far more 
efiPective than the most exciting eloquence or the most splendid 
displays, she introduces the recluse Carthusian, who never mixes 
with the world at all, and the compassionate Carmelite, who mixes 


with it only in deeds of mercy. To the philanthropic she exhibits 
the brethren of St. John's and Camillus, as day after day they 
pursue their hospital rounds ; to the polite and literary, she presents 
the courtly and accomplished Benedictines, at the same time the 
best editors of the classics, and the feeblest defenders of the faith, 
the Church ever knew. 

"Even in doctrine we allow a wise liberty on points which, 
though within the range of orthodoxy, have been on the one side 
or the other, the nuclei around M'hicli separate and divergent com- 
munions have hung. Our Articles were meant as the symbols of 
jjeace and comprehension. They were broad enough at one time 
to shelter the supralapsarian Calvinism of Archbishop Whitgift. 
They were broad enough at another time to shelter the mild 
Arminianism of Seeker and Tillotson. No one now, it may be well 
asserted, will maintain that the positive faith and burning zeal of 
John Newton were out of place in the communion he did so much 
to revive. No one will assert that the majestic sense of Bishop 
Butler was out of place in the communion he did so much to 
adorn. We may now well afford to place Leighton and Ken alike 
within the sanctuary both of our affections and of our denomi- 
national sympathies, though the saintly piety which belonged to 
each was united to docti'ines far more widely divergent ihan those 
which have divided sects. ' Brother Hooper,' said Ridley, ' we 
have been two in white, but now we will be one in 7-ed.' In other 
words, those who in former times were divided as to Episcopal 
vestments and surplices, became afterwards fused by the fires of 
persecution. It is a lesson which the Church has learned late, but 
we trust is learning thoroughly — toleration within the range of 
orthodoxy, liberty in the choice of agency for carrj'ing out her 
great mission. 

" But the question we now discuss does not involve even any of 
the allowable divergences of doctrine. If it did, the liberty asked 
for is perfectly defensible. But to sustain the principle of com- 
pulsory uniformity in missions, we must take tlie ground that 
even on the subject of mechanism there is to be no liberty allowed 
to the convictions of individual contributors. It will be enough 
to establish, thei'cfore, the impolicy of such a system if we show 
that there are even now in our immediate communion two schools 
of oi)inion each widely and conscientiously dift'ering as to not 


merely the best but as to tlie only way in which the Chiiroli is to 
be successfully pressed. We are reduced, therefore, to the alter- 
native of saying either that the Episcopal Church is not compre- 
hensive enough to retain these two schools, and that the one may 
therefore justly expel or silence the other, or of conceding that 
each school, in the exercise of its own convictions, may take tiio 
course to which it conceives itself conscientiously bound. 

" Let us consider, however, this point more closely. A large 
majority of our bishops, as is well known, have given their official 
sanction to the opinion that the Rulirics requiring morning and 
evening service, even on Sunday, are not imperative in unorganized 
congregations, or mission stations. Of this majority nearly the 
whole body agree in the position that the most efficient way of 
pushing pioneer missions is by a series of informal services, in 
making up which the discretion of the minister is to be largely 
consulted. Besides these, there is a section of the Church, neither 
deficient in zeal or strength, which believes that the free and 
earnest use in social meetings of extemporaneous prayer — the 
introduction and extension of such meetings whenever an ojjen- 
ing is offered for them — the bold and faithful preaching of the 
cross informally as well as formally, wherever the preacher has 
access — are the primary agencies through which alone the mission- 
aries of our Church can solidly lay her foundations. 

" On the other hand, we find opinions directly to the contrarv 
avowed among us, by authorities equally conscientious, and equally 
entitled to recognition as a constituent part of our communion. 

" Now here we have a difference of opinion going to the very root 
of the question of missionary machinery. Those conscientiously 
holding the first view may be pardoned in preferring a missionary 
who will press the Church in that way in which they think it can 
be savingly and effectively pressed ; those holding the second 
view, equally conscientiously, interpose an ejjiscopal prohibition 
upon the missionary who desires to avail himself of the advantages 
thought so important by the first. And yet, divergent as these 
opinions are, I apprehend our Church legitimately compi-ehends 
them both, and secures to each the right of missionary action in 
the way that it thinks best. Nor do I see any particular harm in 
this. If it be said that there is to be a coerced uniformity, and 
that tiic party wlio liappens to be in the ascendant for the time 


being, is to be empowered to make those who differ from him work 
under him, or not to work at all, then I a])prehend there will be 
dissension, if not schism. Each party v.i\\ struggle for the ascen- 
dency, and the struggle will create party feeling where it does not 
produce an actual disruption. It was thus the great Methodist 
schism was caused. John Wesley would never have left the 
Church of England had the liberty allowed by our American Bishops 
been allowed to him by their English predecessors. If, on the 
other hand, it is understood that each element is to be allowed to 
push the Church in its own way, I can see little but good. Those 
who prefer a strictly liturgical system will find not only a channel 
open to their zeal, but will be able to do what those who differ 
from them could not do so well — minister to the religious wants of 
that class of the community whose intellectual structure is such as 
to make them crave the esthetic in public worship, as distinguished 
from the more practical and homely. Those who prefer a mixed 
svstem will also not only be able to work efficiently, and to them- 
selves healthfully, in the missionary field, but to present the gospel, 
through a combination of stated with social worship, in the way in 
which it will most effectively strike large and important classes. 
'There are many voices,' says St. Paul, 'and none of them with- 
out signification.' There are many classes of hearers, and each 
of them open to a call which strikes it with a distinctive emphasis. 
Is it not wiser, both for the Church and for the masses to whom 
she is sent, that to each element she should speak intelligently, so 
that, in the exercise of her Pentecostal power, 'all men — Parthians, 
INIedes, Elamites' — those whose heart responds only to the solemn 
sweeps of the chant, as well as those in whom the passionate utter- 
ances of the rude hymn in the field-meeting awaken their first con- 
viction of sin — should hear her speak in their ' own tongues the 
wonderful works of God "?' 

" But we may go still further, and say that if the principle hold 
good, it will exact a compulsory fusion of literary agencies. If it be 
right that the Church should interfere to consolidate boards in the 
one department, it is right that she should in the other. A literary 
fusion, a monopoly in the preparation and issue of books, is at 
least as important as a missionary fusion, a monopoly in the sup- 
port and sending of missionaries. Let us see, then, how the prin- 
ciple bears this new test. 


"And here it may be remarked, that if there is anything in whicli 
the comprehensiveness of the Church of England is exhibited, it is 
on this very topic. It is the very breadth and fulness of her litera- 
ture which are its chief glory. To this she owes the logical exact- 
ness of Chillingworth, the majestic strength of Barrow, the brilliant 
point of South, the lustrous rhetoric of Jeremy Taylor, the exposi- 
tory and doctrinal closeness of Ezekiel Hopkins, the didactic 
simplicity aud elegance of Tillotson, and the shrewd sense and 
jierspicuous reasoning of Paley. So it has been even to our own 
dav. There is room, and never more so than now, when the niul- 
tiplving varieties of mind, which a diffused education produces, 
require a multiplying variety of agencies ; there is room still on 
the book-shelves and in the libraries of our communion for the 
manifestation of each of the interests which our communion unites. 
See, indeed, how important has this freedom been to us, even in our 
own generation ! There stands Arnold, marching in all the vigor 
of his manly but restive mind, from the theological obscurity and 
doubts into which his impatience of systems led him in his earlier 
essays, to the, as yet, hardly perfect, but most beautiful evangel- 
icism of his closing works. There is the pastoral fidelity con- 
nected with the exegetical and doctrinal eclecticism, and the philo- 
sophical breadth of Archer Butler. There is the showy eloquence 
of Melville, a little too gaudy for the closet, and a little too elab- 
orate for the pulpit, and yet like a botanical garden, if not good 
for scenery, at least admirable for horticidture ; and there beyond 
all others in worth, if not in pretension, are the excellent exposi- 
toiw sermons of Blunt and Bradley. Behind each utterance there 
is a specific sense ; through them the free voice of the Church 
speaks, never so potent as when free, calling through each agency 
to a particular class of minds whom no other agency could reach, 
and not only raising the literary character of the Church, but dif- 
fusing the truth with a comprehensiveness, which it requires a com- 
prehensive policy to insure. And observe that whenever we have 
deviated from this policy our glory and our power have been pro- 
jwrtionably diminished. It was by the application of this very 
doctrine of compulsory uniformity that we lost the passionate elo- 
quence of Whitefield, the sagacious sense of Wesley, and the apos- 
tolic zeal and vigor which enabled the first of these great men to 
arouse a nation, aud the second to found a chiu'ch. Through it 


we lost something more — the works and examples of those great 
confessors, the Puritan divines of the Restoration, M'lio in their 
exodus spoiled us of the jewels and wealth of an orthodi)xy, which 
we were too indifferent to appreciate, and of a literature, whose 
depth and fulness we Avere too luxurious and inert to fathom. 
Look back and see who issue from the closed doors of those cathe- 
drals and churches, from the metropolis down to the hamlet — 
those doors which a compulsory and intolerant moderatism (of all 
tyrannies the most arbitrary and ungenerous) is not only shutting, 
but bolting on the inside ! There — preceded by the common hang- 
man, in whose hands are to be seen the proscribed writings of men 
of whom their age was not worthy — there go John Bunyan, and 
Baxter, and Owen, and Fuller, and Philip and Matthew Henry. 
And there, mightier than all, goes a great shade, taking with him 
as he goes from this his mother church, the glory of the greatest 
epic poet whom the world ever knew. What, indeed, migiit the 
Church not have been had her heart been as comprehensive as her 
standards ! ' I agree to them all, every word,' said Philip Henry, 
as he was driven from Broad Oaks, because his love to what really 
was the Church, was too real and thorough to enable him to take 
an oath to support elements new and intolerant. ' It draws my 
very heart's blood,' cries another, in the bitterness of his spirit ; 
'but, while I can make Bishops overseers, I cannot make them 
Apostles, nor can I abandon free prayer.' 'I give up that I love,' 
said a third, ' to those that love it not ; but it is they, not I.' So 
spake the expelled divines of the Restoration ; and it is well that 
we should sit and listen before we proceed to apply the same 
shackles which drove them from us. Unity in essentials let us 
have — in the great truths in which, as John Newton told us, all 
religion centres, that ' man is a great sinner, and Christ is a great 
Saviour ;' — unity in government, recognizing, as we do. Constitu- 
tional Episcopacy, as to us the only form to be received ; — unity in 
solemn worship, holding to the great features of the liturgy in our 
public congregations ; — but not uniformity in those developments of 
individual zeal and purity, in which, in order to make substantial 
truth, there must be circumstantial variety." 

We have glanced thus at Dr. Wharton's views l)oth in Cluirch 
and State, and shown him as he supposed usefully and perma- 


nently established in the profession which had been pointed out to 
him. Now, however, the hand of God was to overturn this fliir 
structure, and in one night the gourd of earthly felicity withered 
away. The death of his wife, which took place in September, 1854, 
seemed to cut him loose from all the ties by which he had sur- 
rounded Jiimself. For a long time, after his bereavement, he tried 
to find solace in the occupations and objects of his former life. Too 
truly a Christian not to submit to God's will, he tried t(i discover 
what might be the teaching of this great bereavement. He sought 
new channels of usefulness. He became a sort of lay preaclier in 
the various missions of the city. The vvarmth and fervor of his 
loving heart poured themselves out in many an appeal to the 
ignorant and sorrowful to come and find, as iie had found comfort 
and rest at the foot of the Cross. After the great loss he had sus- 
tained, he could not longer live among the memorials of his past 
hap2)iness, and moved to another and more commodious house in 
the ujiper part of the town. His principal motive, however, in so 
doing, was that he might surround himself with congenial com- 
panions, and endeavor to palliate the heart-ache he could nut 

These comjjanions were not, as might be supposed, men of iiis 
own profession, but of the profession to which in heart he ever 
belonged. Bishops, priests, and deacons, were they alive, could 
testify to tlie libei-al hospitality they received at his hands, and 
students for the ministry, young men needing help, never were 
without his generous aid. His means were at that time; quite 
ample, and rapidly increasing. Not only were his books remu- 
nerative, but his chamber practice brouglit him a larger sum than 
most young lawyers could expect. A less industrious man coidd 
never have found time for all the demands made upon him. He 
was sought for to assist in every benevolent society, and his endorse- 
ment was often regarded as suificieut to procure a call of a clergy- 
man to a parish. In fact he was called at one time, with more 
truth than reverence, the lay-Bisiiop. He was an earnest helper 
of the Episcopal Hospital in Philadelphia, and it was his habit to 
visit and hold religious services in its wards. At this time also he 
became editor of a religious paper, (the ' Episcopal Recorder,') a 
leading periodical of the Evangelical School in our Church, and 
continued his editorial labors for some time after his removal 


from Pliiladelpliia. But all these varied occupations failed to give 
him just what he needed. The change in his domestic life, the 
desolated fireside, and the lonely toil were always pressing upon 
him, and he sought relief in another way. The gi'owlh of the 
great West, and the best methods of reaching it with Christian 
influence had occupied much of his attention. In 1856 he made 
a tour in company with a friend, through the upper Missouri 
Valley, in a light wagon distributing Bibles and tracts as he M'ent. 
At the same time he wrote vivid letters to the ' Recorder,' giving his 
impressions of the country, and its needs from a religious point of 
view. Afterwards he stated some of his conclusions in an article 
in the ' Protestant Episcopal Quarterly Review,' which was also re- 
published in pamphlet form with the title ' The Missouri Valley 
and Lay-preaching.' 

During his travels in the West, Dr. AVharton visited the then 
infant College and Seminary at Gambier, Ohio. Here he met 
with a warm welcome, and became really enamored of the life 
and surroundings of the place. He was induced to accept an 
election to the Professorship of English History and Literature, 
including Logic and Rhetoric, and Lectures on Constitutional Law, 
and threw himself zealously into the work. 




Kexyon College, situated on the Kokosing, a licaiitlful -winding 
stream, and surrounded by forests of cotton\\ood, oak, and syca- 
more, was founded by the venerable Bishop Chase in the year 1828. 
It was at first a missionary enterprise, but through the liberality 
of patrons, both at home and abroad, it had become in 1856 a 
vigorous and growing institution. It united with the College a 
Seminary for the preparation of young men for the Episcopal Min- 
istry, and two large grammar-schools fed and enlivened the older 
classes. Here was a most congenial and interesting field of labor. 
"\Miat more hopeful and inspiring project than to arouse the atten- 
tion and awaken the ambition of young men of such varied ages 
and capabilities not only for the distinction this M'orld gives, but 
for that far greater compensation that comes to those who, to bene- 
fit their fellow-creatures, give them the message of God's good-will 
to man. 

Here were found also many kind and kindred spirits. The pro- 
fessors of Divinity, the beloved and now sainted Bishop IVIcIlvaine 
took the traveller by the hand, and rejoiced in securing such a co- 

The life at Gambler was one of great activity. Dr. "Wharton 
took up at once his duties as professor in the College. It was also 
a life of enjoyment, as he gathered around him young and old in 
the exercise of hospitality, and thus found the companionship he 
craved. No one, who at that time met or dwelt with him, can 
forget the fascination of his conversation. In the rebound from 
the cloud of sorrow that had so long hung over him, his spirits 
became again the charm of every social circle, and his generous 
nature poured itself out in loving prodigality on all who came 
near him. In the Class room, however, was the best development 
of his new-born energy. Coming in contact, as he did, with young 
and bright minds, many of them unformed, some of them, and 


these the best, with crude and mistaken notions, all of them on 
the threshold of a period momentous to themselves and others, he 
delighted to use the knowledge he had gained, and the rich gift of 
Iiis influence to shape and mould tiie material committed to his 
charge. A book published by him at that time with the title 
' ]\Iodern Theism' will show the kind of instruction he imparted, 
and the kind of difficulties he came in contact with. The book is 
in fact a copy of the Lectures he delivered at that time on the 
theories of ' j\rod(>rn Infidelity.' The well-worn, but ever-recur- 
ring questions that confront us all in early life arc treated in a 
manner that enchains the attention and satisfies the inquirer, even 
if it does not solve the mystery. In the chapters on Sin and Death 
in the beginning of the book, clearly and strongly it is shown that 
the existence of one necessitates the other ; gently, and j'ct grandly, 
does the truth stand out that suffering and death are God's reme- 
dial agents, and that ills, otherwise unbearable, are parts of a 
scheme of mercy whose completeness of fidfilment eternity alone 
will reveal. 


AVe take the fiillowing from the London 'Christian Observer' : — 

The design of this work is to present the Theistic arguments (or, 
in other words, to prove the existence of a God) " in sucli a shape," 
to use the author's words, "as the best to impress the American 
mind of the present day." It is a very interesting volume, even to 
us upon this side of the Atlantic. It may be placed ^vith great 
advantage in the hands of thoughtful and inquiring young persons; 
for it conducts the several lines of argument it takes uj) to sound 
conclusions, wiiile the path is made pleasant by anecdote and illus- 
tration. For instance, the evidence of the existence and character 
of God is argued first of all from conscience, God's representativ^e 
within us. We give an illustration : — 

" I may be permitted to close the topic with the following ]iassage 
from a sketch given by the late Dr. Parrish, of Philadelphia, a 
very reliable witness, of the last hours of John Eandolph : — 

" ' A napkin was called for and placed by John over his breast. 
For a short time he lay perfectly quiet, with his eyes closed. He 
suddenly roused up and exclaimed, ' Remorse ! Remorse !' It was 
thrice repeated, the last time at the top of his voice, with great 


agitation. He cried out, 'Let me see tlie word. Get a dictiouary ; 
let me see the word !' ' Tliere is none in the room, sir.' ' Write 
it down, then — let me see the word.' The doctor picked up one 
of his cards. ' Randolph of Roanoke.' ' Shall I write it on this 
card "?' ' Yes, nothing more projier.' The word Remorse was then 
written in pencil. He took the card in a hurried manner, and 
fastened his eyes on it with intensity. ' Write it on the back,' he 
exclaimed. It was so done, and handed him again. He was 
extremely agitated. ' Remorse ! you have no idea what it is ; you 
can form no idea of it whatever ; it has contributed to bring me to 
my present situation. But I have looked to the Lord Jesus Christ, 
and I hope I have obtained pardon. Now, let John take your 
peucil and draw a line under the word ;' which was accordingly 
done. ' What am I to do with the card ?' inquired the doctor. 
Put it in your pocket — take care of it — wlien I am dead look 
at it.' " (p. 62.) 

The existence of God, as "an eternal executive punisliing the 
violators of his law, may be inferred from the physical conse- 
quences of a violation of conscience." This position is illustrated 
thus : — 

'' Let us go, for instance, to Augustus the Strong, of Saxony, and 
observe in him in early life 'the maximum of physical strength : 
can break horse-shoes — nay, half-crowns — with finger and thumb;' 
of superb beauty, and possessor of two crowns. Meet him again 
when in the prime of manhood, and you see him bloated and 
putrid. A life of eminent dissipation has broken a constitution of 
eminent strength. ' So it is everywhere. We are j)laced, in fact, 
under recognizances to obey the decrees of conscience, and our 
bodies become our bail. If the bond is broken, the bail is seized 
upon and made to pay the forfeit. Nor is it bodily strength alone 
that is thus taken in execution. Nervous power, intellectual integ- 
rity, simplicity of heart, even lustre of genius — all tiiese are in 
like manner sacrificed as penalties. Byron, Burns, Mirabeau — 
themselves desolating and desolate — lead us, in the agonized con- 
fession of their early though self-destroyed manhood, to the same 
truth of the organic connection between physical and intellectual 

"Nor does the penalty stop here. The finer and more generous 
capacities of the heart become in like manner involved. The sus- 


ceptibility for innocent joys — of all susceptibilities the finest — is 
lost. Burns speaks with a sad truth on this point — 

I wave the (jiuintum of the sin, 

The hazard of concealing ; 
But O ! il hardens all wilJiin, 

And petrijies the feeling." 

Another chapter, more in the style of Paley, treats of design from 
Nature. The Oceax supplies some beautiful proofs of contrivance, 
which are ranged under three heads : the Sea-breeze, the Ocean 
Salts, and the Gulf Stream. Under the last head we have the fol- 
lowing illustration : — 

" Let us first view its effect on England. The port of Liverpool 
is never closed with ice ; it is two degrees farther north than that 
of St. John's, Newfoundland, which, being frozen half the year, is 
of course incapable of sustaining commerce. Let us look for a 
moment at the consequences, had the same bands existed round the 
English coast. Cowper has well described the spectacle that now 
awaits the visitor to these shores : — 

From side to side of her delightfid isle, 
Is she not clothed with a perpetual smile, 
Her fields a rich expanse of wavv corn, 
Poured out from Plenty's overflowing horn. 
Her peaceful shores, where busy commerce waits 
To pour his golden tide through all her gates ? 

" Tliis scene would be changed to one whose ice-choked ports 
would be fed only by rivers, themselves frozen .half the year, and 
where a mist, as constant as that of Labrador, would give through 
its fissures and breaks only sunlight enough to mature the coarsest 
grain. From such a climate commerce would be excluded, and 
agricidture would obtain but a scanty subsistence. The England 
of our fathers, and the England of our own da\-s, would never 
have existed." 

Other chaptei-s show the existence of a Deity from the progress 
of Society, from Geology, and from Natural Theology. And the 
second book, treating of skeptical theories, answers the objections 
drawn from the impression of the present state of things, from 
" positivism," from fatalism, and from pantheism ; and lastly, 
from the recent — or, rather, extremely ancient but recently re- 


vived — theory of " development," which makes matter the creator 
of mind. A more interesting book, or one likely to be more useful 
to voung and ardent minds passing through that anxious state 
which often intervenes to such between the simple, happy acqui- 
escence of childliood, and that firm faith and undisturbed repose 
which is the fruit of many a bitter conflict, we have not lately met 
with, and we shall be happy to contribute anytiiiiig to its success 
and wider circulation. 

Some letters written of him at that time will show how the 
culture and brilliancy of their teacher impressed the young men 
committed to his charge, and how the giving up of his Eastern 
home with its many attractions for a comparatively secluded life 
at Gambler, was regarded : — 

(1) My dear Friend : 

"Your description of Dr. Wharton at Gaml)ier, when we were 
all boys in his own house, and surrounded by his kindness, brings 
back very vividly the old times. I am sui-e that every one of us, 
and all young men who came in contact with him, were made better 
by his influence and example. I know very well he had a pro- 
found influence over me, and he has always been (after my own 
father and mother) the most conspicuous figure in the background 
of my youth. He was a generous, affectionate, noble Christian 
gentleman. His intellectual qualities of course were pre-eminent. 
I have never known a more comprehensive and brighter intellect, 
and his memory, as you say, was marvellous. ^A'hat a wonderful 
scholar he was, and how industrious at his self-imposed tasks." 
. ..." I shall never cease to revere his memory as one of 
America's best and greatest men. 


(2) "I was fortunate enough to have been associated with him 
in early years. I knew something of his personal qualities and of 
the beauty of his daily life. I shall never forget what I owe to 
his kindness, his counsel, his wisdom. He was, within the range 
of his friendships, one of the most gentle and brotherly of men. 
Exceedingly kind to the younger members of his profession, cour- 
teous and dignified to all. His intimate acquaintance with the 


great la^\yers of the clay, taken in connection with his nrbauity 
and his fund of legal anecdote, made his conversation always 
interesting, and his society alwaj's agreeable. His life was clear 
and clean in its aims, full of busy and useful labor. 

"T. C. C." 

(3) " But any sketch of him would be incomplete which failed to 
refer to his attractive and lovable character. Benevolence was a 
striking feature in it, and that not only in the sense of a hearty 
good-will towards all men, but in the sense of active beneficence 
toward those with whom he was brought into relations. To say 
nothing of other acts of charity, there is many a man alive to-day 
who in the days of his student life, hard and cramped, perhaps, 
received sympathy and encouragement and substantial help from 
Dr. Wharton. His learning, his wit, his genial presence, made 
him charming in social life. His conversation was something to 
be remembered — not merely for the instruction with Mhich it was 
freighted, but for its gentle humor and its exuberance of illustra- 
tion by anecdote, by metaphor, by picturesque turns of phrase. It 
was these graces of style which made his writing, even on technical 
subjects, so interesting. His hospitality was abounding. To all 
who knew him the world will seem poorer now that he is gone. 

"J. P., Jr." 

(4) " The present writer, then a raw lad, remembers sitting at the 
table of a professor, a classmate of the deceased jurist, where Dr. 
Wharton was visiting. After retiring, he took occasion to ask the 
host what the very interesting gentleman was by profession. ' A 
lawyer,' said the professor. ' But, professor, he talked of having 
prescribed for a lady suffering from nervous prostration some 
medicine, and Jane Austen's novels.' ' Oh, yes,' said the pro- 
fessor, ' Mr. Wharton has given much attention to brain and nerve 
troubles. He has been himself a sufferer, and that accounts for 
it.' ' But, professor, he talked about items clipped from the news- 
papers, and I fancied that he might be an editor.' 'So he is,' 
replied the professor, ' of the Episcopal Recorder.' ' He seems too 
religious for an every -day lawyer, professor.' 'That may be,' 
replied the professor, 'but he is one of the most energetic laymen 
in the Church.' 


"As suggested above, Professor Wliarton was possibly too re- 
ligiously recondite for the callow disciples under him from 1856 to 
18(50; and it is out of a feeling of regretful remorse that one of 
the black sheep among them now humbly seeks to show an appre- 
ciation of his genius and labors. 

"T. H. R." 

That he did not regard his light as in any way ' hidden' or ob- 
sciu-ed by his Western lifeMs to be accounted for by the fact that 
it was very difficult to make him think highly of himself His life- 
A\-ork was to fill the place where he seemed most needed. Others 
could and did take up the work he left behind him. Several 
churciies in Philadelphia now owe their existence to missions stalled 
by him, and the Episcopal Hospital, under Avide and generous 
patronage, no longer required his aid. At the same time, that he 
was greatly missed among a circle of dear friends, is undoubtedly 
true, and they could bear testimony with his Gambler classes that 
a Son of Consolation had gone from them, and had been gained by 
the more distant and pressing need. His favorite motto at that 
time, taken from a well-known hymn, was — 

" A soul at leisure from itself, 
To soothe and sympiithize." 

The wants of others were his only thought. The lonely, the sad, 
the destitute, ever found him ready to help. Sick students were 
brought to his house, and carefully and tenderly nursed — the well 
ones were entertained and encouraged. They felt that his house 
was a home for them if they required it, and this from a man 
whose wit and learning commanded their admiration and respect. 
The future will show many cases where not only gratitude, but 
lasting and blessed effects, followed from the ties and associations 
thus formed. 

But it is time to notice more in detail some of the results of 
the work at Gambler. 

Mr. Joseph Packard, Jr., a son of the esteemed Professor 
Packard of Alexandria, Virginia, writes: "There were a dozen 
or more lectures to his classes each week; there was editorship of 
periodicals, there was constantly work to be done in meeting the 
demand for new editions of his law books, each new edition requiring 
careful examination of late cases, and of English and Continental 


text-writers. To all this was atlded an extensive correspondence. 
Distinctive Christian work, however, still kept its prominent place 
M-ith him. In addition to regular attendance and help in prayer- 
meetings among the college students, it was his custom, from the 
time of his first residence in Gainbier, to ride a couple of miles on 
Sunday afternoons to hold mission services in some distant hamlet. 
During a part of his career as Professor he conducted what was 
called his Bible Class — more properly Bible lectures — on Sunday 
evenings. Attendance on those lectures was entirely voluntary ; 
but although the college student had already been, under stress of 
law, to the morning and afternoon service in the chapel, there were 
few that failed to attend. So, also, came the theological students, 
the villagers, and even many of the grammar-school boys. It was 
no wonder, for the subject was illustrated in the most attractive 
way from the store.s of his varied knowledge." 

In the year 1857 occurred a decided religious Revival, of which 
no better account could be given than is to be found in a small 
pamphlet printed for private circulation, and in Dr. Wharton's 
own words, called a ' Reminiscence of Gambier.' 


Several of my former Gambier pupils, on visiting Brookline, and 
on hearing the hymn ' Abide with IMe,' sung at St. Paul's to the 
tune with which we were so familiar when together on the Hill, 
have asked me for the notes. In answering this request, my mind 
involuntarily turns back to an event with which the hymn and 
music are both, in my memory and affections, iudissolubly con- 
nected — the Revival at Gambier, in 1857-58. And I have felt, in 
sending the notes to the printer, that it might not be amiss for me 
to join with them a few recollections of that most eventful period ; 
recollections which I now print, not for publication, but for private 
use, in memory of those of our brethren, then with us, who are 
now in heaven, and in affectionate tribute to those who still survive. 

I was in Philadelphia at the time when the religious interest, 
which was then so general through the whole country, began to 
manifest itself at Gambier ; and I well recollec-t the deep impres- 
sion made on me, on my return, after the usual winter vacation, in 
finding a daily prayer-meeting instituted in that basement-room of 
Rosse Chapel, with which, ungainly and dark as it may be, I have 


SO many dear associations. It was 'Sir. AVilliani Bower, then in 
the sophomore class, now an honored minister in Newark, Ohio, 
who first, if I understood rightly, urged the importance of these 
meetings ; and soon, to the few who at first attended, was added the 
great body of the students, as well as of the other residents of the 
Hill. The collection of hymns, called ' Hymns for Church and 
Home,' had a short time before been published ; and I well recol- 
lect calling the attention of Sh: Bower, Mr. Holden, and the late 
Mr. J. W. McCarty, to the hymn which I now republish, and 
asking them if they could not find suitable music to words so 
beautiful, and so appropriate to the solemn state of religious feel- 
ing. It was ]\Ir. Bower who brought us the tune which is now 
printed, and which by memory was for so long sung at Gambler. 
Desiring to reproduce it at my own parish, I wrote to Mr. J. W. 
!McCarty, only a few months before his death, and received from 
him, pencilled down by himself, the notes of the melody. These, 
as adapted by Mr. C. B. Fay, the organist of St. Paul's, I now give. 

To the Revival with which this hymn is so closely associated, I 
can never revert without recollections the tenderest and the most 
strengthening. It showed t\\o very remarkable facts. The first is, 
that God, even when we least expect it, will make bare His arm, and, 
in answer to the importunate supplications of His people, descend 
\\ith mighty power, awakening and converting sinners, and recalling 
to a higher and holier profession tiiose amoug His children who have 
become faint and cold. The second is, that those whom He thus 
pleases to revive, and use as instruments in such revival, are not, 
as it has been sometimes said, the creatures of mere excitement, 
whose fervor passes away with the occasion which humanly caused 
it. As illustrations of these truths I do not merely particulai'ize 
the living, so many of them ministers of God's Word. I turn, 
first, to those whom God has taken to Himself 

Mr. John W. Griffin is the first of our now glorified brethren 
whose name meets my eye on the catalogue. He was then a stu- 
dent in the seminary-, and was at the same time assisting me in the 
chair of English Literature in the college. Of all men whom I 
have ever met, he was most on his knees ; and in no one did I 
ever witness more sterling integrity, more sanctifietl holiness, and 
more devoted zeal. 'He was ordained at Gambier, shortly before 
the late war, by Bishop Bedell ; and though called to be minister 


of Eossc Chapel, where he would gladly have remained, he was 
ordered by Bishop Meade, in whose diocese he was a deacon, to 
the parish at Amherst, Virginia. A few months after his settle- 
ment the war broke out, and he took the post of chajilain to a 
regiment in the Confederate army. Here he wore himself 'out by 
his devotion to the sick and dying, and by his most powerful 
ministry of the Word. Those who saw him in the last few mouths 
of his life say, that while his body was emaciated and his strength 
nearly gone, his face shone almost as an augel's, and his preaching 
and conversation were marked almost by an angel's power. One 
of his last acts was to write a letter to me, dwelling on M'hat he used 
to speak of as the blessed memories of Gambier, and of that Revival 
which I now seek to recall ; and asking to have his dying love 
given to the Bishops of Ohio, and to those with whom, when at 
Gandjier, he had lived. 

Mr. John W. McCarty is the next name in the list of the then 
theological students, and to Mr. McCarty's agency in the Revival 
I have already incidentally referred. I cannot look back on Mr. 
McCarty without some degree of self-reproach. He was by nature 
marked by much waywardness, irritability, and impetuosity ; and 
I was one of those who scarcely did him justice, and who only par- 
tially saw, through the conflict that thus arose, the deep fervor of 
his devotion, and the passionate conviction of sin which perhaps 
these very peculiarities of his temperament tended to enhance. I 
now have to say, that I believe that few men have ever adorned 
our ministry either with greater genius or more thorough piety. 
He, too, was summoned to an early grave, passing thither from a 
pulpit — that of Christ Church, Cincinnati — than which we have 
few more important, and in which his remarkable gifts, ripening as 
they were day after day, were beginning to exercise immense power. 

Mr. John Leithead is the next on the list of those who, in 
the then Seminary classes, have passed from the ministry of earth 
to that of heaven. When I first went to Gambier he was in tem- 
per and character a mere boy ; often vacillating and inconstant. 
He became afterwards a minister of extraordinary holiness and 
zeal, and lustrous with grace ; and his death-bed, at Piqua, Ohio, 
where lie was Rector, was marked by serajJiic loveliness and 

Mr. H. A. Lewis, who was then in the Sophomore Class in the 


Colleo-e, anil Mr. ]M. M. Gilbert, who was then in the Freshmen 
Class, subseqnently entered tlie Seminary as tlieologieal students, 
were ordained, and crowned brief and faithful ministries by deaths 
of peace and olorious trust. 

Mr. Joiin M. Burke, then in tiie Senior Class of the College, 
went to Virginia before the war and was there ordained. His 
ministerial life, as I have leai-ned from those who knew him at the 
time, was one of simple faith and earnest labor ; and his death, 
which was immediate, occurred during an attack on the Umn in 
which he was ministering. 

Among those who were present at Gambier, during the Revival, 
being at the time laymen, the following, besides myself, are now 
ministers of the Gospel : — 

Eev. Henry D. Lathrop, then Principal of the Hall, and pursu- 
ing a partial course in the Seminary, now Rector of the Church of 
the Advent, San Francisco, California. 

Rev. Cornelius S. Abbott, then in the Seminary, and now Rector 
of St. Paul's, Alton, Illinois. 

Rev. Henry H. Messinger, then in the Seminary, and now mis- 
sionary at Los Augelos, California. 

Rev. William J. Alston, then in the Seminary, and now Rector 
of St. Thomas' Church, Philadelphia. 

Rev. Richard L. Ganter, then in the Seminary, and now Rector 
of Trinity Church, Iowa City, Iowa. 

Rev. William C. Gray, then in the Seminary, and now Rector of 
St. James' Church, Bolivar, Tennessee. 

Rev. Richard Holden, then in the Seminary — I cannot but 
pause with emotion as I write Mr. Holden's name. Tiiere is no 
man from whom I learned more, through example, of true Chris- 
tian life ; none among all whom I have ever met, who united more 
inflexible Christian courage, with purer doctrine, and with a more 
wonderful influence over the wild and irreligious. Of all persons, 
irreligious college students are the most restive at any attempts at 
personal religious influence, particularly where the effort comes from 
a fellow-student ; and yet among the most reckless of this class, 
Mr. Holden, then a student himself, labored freely, faithfully, and 
earnestly, and was listened to always with respect, and sometimes 
with love. I have never seen a similar case ; and yet, let it be re- 
membered, that his personal life was one of severe holiness ; that 


he never hesitated to rebuke sin ; that he never shrank from pro- 
claiming the doctrines of grace — the doctrines of man's extreme 
depravity, and of salvation only through the merits of Christ, — in 
their most direct and positive form. It was because he lived these doc- 
trines so fully, so firmly, and so meekly, that he made them so lovely, 
and that he proclaimed thcni, both at the time of which I speak 
and subsequently, with such extraordinary effect. Mr. Holdeu, 
subsequently to his ordination, declined prominent ministerial posts, 
and went as a missionary to Brazil, where, before his conversion, he 
had become acquainted with the language, and where he felt he owed 
a peculiar debt. To my own great grief, and to the great grief of 
others, he subsequently left our communion, finding a difficulty in 
the disputed phrases in the Baptismal Service ; phrases, I cannot 
but think, which would have appeared to him, had he considered 
them more fully, as representing most important features in that 
verv covenant of grace on which, in its general aspects, he dwelt 
with so much comfort and power. If this should meet Mr. Hol- 
den's eye, in the field where I believe he still works with the same 
devotion, though in connection with another communion, I ask him 
to receive it as a testimony of the unchanged love and reverence of 
those who labored with him in 1857-58, and who, though they will 
never meet him again in the forms of the visil)le Church on earth, 
look forward to joining him in the glorified Church in Heaven. 

Rev. William O. Feltwell, then in a partial course in the Semi- 
narv, and now officiating at City Island, New York. 

Rev. Frederic M. Gray, then in the Senior Class of the College, 
now Rector of Calvary Church, Bayonne, New Jersey. 

Rev. Wyllys Hall, then in the Senior Class, now Rector of St. 
James' Church, Piqua, Ohio. 

Rev. John Newton Lee, then in the Senior Class, now Rector of 
Grace Church, Topeka, Kansas. 

Rev. John Franklin Ohl, then in the Senior Class, now Rector 
of St. James' Church, Zanesville, Ohio. 

Rev. William Thompson, then in the Senior Class, now Rector 
of St. John's Church, Kewanee, Illinois. 

Rev. William Bower, then in the Junior Class, now Rector of 
Trinity Church, Newark, Ohio. 

Rev. William Henry Dyer, then in the Junior Class, now mis- 
sionaiT at Washoe City, Nevada. 


Rev. James Hervev Lee, then in the Junior Class, now Rector 
of St. Paul's Church, ^Manhattan, Kansas. 

Rev. Charles E. ilellvaiue, then in the .Junior Class, now assist- 
ant minister of Trinity Church, Newark, Ohio. 

Rev. Calvin Clarke Parker, then in the Junior Class, now Rector 
of Trinity Church, "Warren, Pennsylvania. 

Rev. Charles H. Young, then in the .Junior Class, now Rector 
of St. Paul's Church, Fremont, Ohio. 

Rev. Carlos Enrique Butler, then in the Sophomore Class, now 
a minister in "Western Pennsylvania. 

Rev. Joseph "Witherspoon Cook, then in the Sophomore Class, 
now a missionary at Cheyenne, Dacotah. 

Rev. John "William Trimble, then in the Sophomore Class, now 
assisting in the Church of the Ascension, Xew York. 

Mr. Royal Blake Balcom, then in the Freshman Class, now in 
the Theological Semina:ry at Gambier. 

Rev. Otho H. Fryer, then in the Freshman Class, now minister 
at Cornwall, Pennsylvania. 

Rev. E. O. Simpson, then in the Freshman Class, now Rector of 
St. Philip's Church, Circleville, Ohio. 

Rev. Daniel C. Roberts, then in the Freshman Class, now Rector 
of Christ Church, Jlontpelier, Vermont. 

Rev. Henry L. Badger, then in the Hall, now Rector of Zion 
Church, Monroeville, Ohio. 

Rev. A. F. Blake, then with his father — my much honored and 
loved friend, the Rev. A. Blake — now Rector of Grace Church, 
Avonville, Ohio. 

Rev. Samuel H. Boyer, then in the Hall, now Rector of Christ 
Church, Glendale, Ohio. 

Rev. Edward Dolloway, then in the Hall, now Rector of Trinity 
Church, Gouvernenr, Xew York. 

Rev. John Andrew Dooris, then in the Hall, now Rector of the 
Church of the Epiphany, Urbana, Ohio. 

Rev. Wm. Dorville Doty, then in the Hall, now Rector of All 
Saints' Church, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Rev. AV. H. D. Grannis, then in the Hall, now Rector of St. 
John's Church, Fort Hamilton, Xew York. 

Rev. Horace E. Hayden, then in the Hall, now minister at Point 
Pleasant, Ohio. 


Rev. Wm. M. Postlcth\\aite, then in the Hall, now Rector of the 
Church of our Saviour, Brooklyn, New York. 

Mr. George B. Pratt, then in the Hall, now about to be ordained 
at Davenport, Iowa. 

Rev. Wm. W. Rafter,- then in the Hall, now Rector of Christ 
Church, La Crosse, Wisconsin. 

Rev. Wni.E. Wright, then in the Hall, now officiating at Janes- 
ville, AViscousin. 

As I write these, the names of those now in the living ministry, 
whose faces I so vividly i-ecall in connection with the Revival of 
1867-8, I cannot but feel once more the old affection then borne 
to them by one who was with them as a lay College Professor — 
who is now with them in the Common Ministiy of the Word — 
and who would desire to unite them in the prayer that each of us 
may be blessed, unworthy as we are and have been, with many 
souls, to be laid at our Blessed Lord's feet, as the tro^jhies of His 
redeeming grace. 

With two additional reflections I now close. The first is, that 
what seemed sometimes, when we viewed them closely at Gambler, 
weaknesses and imperfections and jarriugs, now, at this distance, 
are lost in the true greatness of the general work, even if we should 
take this single small section of time as the sole test. And I can- 
not but think that such a retrospect should be a source of the truest 
comfort and encouragement to the Bishops of Ohio, and to the 
Professors at Gambler, amid the numberless trials and anxieties to 
which they are exposed. Greater uniformity and less individuality 
might jirobabl)' be produced under a more rigorous and more highly 
keyed Church system ; I question whether any other system could 
have produced truer and more efficient, and at the same time more 
varied, forms of ministerial life. 

The other remark is, that it is possible for a Revival to be con- 
ducted in perfect harmony with, and strict obedience to, the rubrics 
and laws of our Church. During the time of the deepest religious 
interest at Gambler, the regular services of the Church were per- 
formed with the utmost exactness, though with a largely increased 
attendance. There was no interchange with other ministries; there 
has been, however, a large and most effective increase of our own, 
as well as an addition to our own communion of a body of faithful 
laymen, several of whom I have lately heard of as organizing 


parishes, and conducting, with great activity, lay missions. Few 
among those who stood together iu the meetings I thus recall, 
came forth other than earnest, devoted men — weak indeed, and 
feeling their weakness — but impressed above all things with a love 
to souls, and a determination to preach and to live, to perishing 
sinners, the fullness of the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ. 

F. W. 

BnoOKLlNE, Maivh 7, 1868. 



Abide with Me. 

-0- ■*" 

A - bide with me; fast falls the 

vtu - tide ; The 

oth - er help - ers fail and com - forts flee, Help 


This memorial, though printed solely for private use, is reprinted 
here, because the lapse of twenty years has probably caused its loss 
among those who first receiyed it, and though names are here made 
jniblic, it is thought few would object to the loyiug words M'ith 
wliieh they are connected, if indeed Teacher and taught haye not 
ere this met in the presence of their common Lord. 

With the admixture of eyil with good which is too generally the 
case in this fallen world, there were some undesirable results fol- 
lowing this period of religious interest, which called for notice on 
the part of the professors, and finally of a letter from Bishop 
Mcllyaine himself This letter we giye in part, not only because 
of the signature thereto, but as showing the confidence and affection 
existing between Dr. Wharton and the writer. 

.... "As to its (the prayer-meeting) visefulness to the Stu- 
dents, I think that would be enhanced were it confined to them. 
The more they feel themselves to be the objects, and the less they 
feel as if a miscellaneous audience were aimed at, the more they 
will profit. I am always jealous of the influence of a meeting, on 
students, so secluded from society as ours, ^yhere there is the element 
of young ladies to draw their minds ; and they are tempted to be 
going after girls to bring them to the meeting, or to take them 
home. Always at Colleges — the nuisances are the young women, 
unless they be yery well taken care of at home. But woe is me if 
you let this idea be known as mine at Gambler ! I haye no doiibt 
there is need of a Avatchful supervisor as to the officiating of students 
in the country places — that they may have such latitude as will 
be useful to them, without going beyond reasonable bounds, and 
begetting in them a loose idea of order, a contempt of wholesome 
restraint — and thus injuring not only themselves but the character 
of our institutions abroad. We must always expect to have among 
our yoimg men seeking the ministry, a class of minds icell di.tposed, 
but not well settled, as to modes and ways, as matters of order and 
expediency ; persons who may be led to be all right — but on whom 
any extravagance, anything not easily defensible in point of order, 
anything that looks like dangerous tendency to irregularity is cal- 
culated to set them backwards towards stiffness and altitudinous 
churchmanship. We are not like congregations as usually situated — 
where the Pastor's influence is almost paramount. We have the 
Bishops and clergy, and divers others connected with the young 


men, whose influence is on tliem, and we have special need of wis- 
dom, of moderation as to modes, while as distinct and strong, and 
positive as possible in point of truth. "With us, I have no doubt, 
it is much better to keep icithin the bounds of order and expedi- 
ency, rather than run a risk of exceeding them, or of being thought 
by good men to do so. Now, I wish, at this time, to speak my 
mind more tlian I have ever done, as to the daily prayer-meetings 
at Gambier. 

" When I first knew of them, they had been going on a good 
while, their order was established — differences of opinion calculated 
to do iiarm had arisen — good was being done — the feeling was up — 
I saw some things which I wished were not, and I saw what ex- 
plained very easily why Mr. M. and Mr. K., etc., kept aloof, and 
which prevented me from thinking the less of them for it, and I 
had a severe question to settle. Shall I now disturb all this, and 
turn off attention to mere points of order and general expediency, 
— and create divisions — or is it better to turn in, and go along as far 
as I can, and say nothing to discourage any, and hope for the best? 
I adopted the latter, and said nothing. But now I can express my 
views without tlie injury then apprehended, but even now not for 
the general ear. These daily prayer-meetings were instituted as 
laymen's meetings after the examj)le of such meetings elsewhere. 
I think there was an original mistake there. There is a (juestion of 
difficulty to many earnest clergymen as to such meetings anywhere, 
so far (as generally is the case) as a clergyman, or the Pastors of 
the very people that meet are considered as having no more right 
to officiate than anylwdy else, however young or inexperienced. I 
confess I have always felt that, and when I have attended such 
meetings, I have had to get over it, only by saying ' I will officiate 
and take the proper place as an ordained minister, in consistency 
with the general order of the meeting.' But in the peculiar circum- 
stances of Gambier, the difficulty was much increased. The meet- 
ing was lay, not merely as respects the equal rights and position 
therein of the lay brethren of the college faculty on one side, and 
the clerical brethren on the other ; but of the lay brethren of the 
students in any department, with the lay professors on one side, 
with their Rector and all the resident clergymen on the other ; so 
that on the theory of the meeting, a boy of eighteen had just as 
much right to get up and pray and exhort as his Rector. Though 


this tlieorv was modified in the practice, nevertlieless it was the 
fundamental idea. Now, whatever its applicability to union meet- 
ings elsewhere, where the people attending are not chiefly minors — 
jiupils under authority — and where there are plenty of experienced 
laymen to lead — the case is quite different when two-thirds of the 
meeting ;'s of minors, boys — inexperienced, and two-thirds of the 
other lavmeu are their Professors, and many of the latter 
clergymen, related to them in a vei-y peculiar relation. A congre- 
gation of pupils, and those young, is a very different sphere for 
such a theory, from one of miscellaneous laity, of all ages, and 
chiefly of persons long professing religion. Now when a clergy- 
man, say Mr. A. or B., entered the meeting and was asked to pray 
or exhort by a student, it is not to be wondered at that he should 
feel the position to be veiy anomalous — calculated to injure the 
young men, and the reputation of the College, etc. I like prayer- 
meetings among students, and like to see them meet together and 
prav together, and this as much as possible, but I would have them 
always recognize the presence of a clergyman or professor as such 
when he should be with them. 

"Again, I thought it was not wise to encourage the young men 
at once to make a public declaration of embracing Christ, as my 
dear boy, and others did — not that I suppose it did than any harm — 
perhaps it did them good, and may in these cases have done good 
to others — but in the long run, with the evil natures of men, and 
especially of youth, it was not well, I think. I did not particularly 
speaiv of it at G., because it was all over when I got there, and I 
hoped it would not occur again, and I wished not to seem more 
tiian was necessary to take exception. 

" Now my idea of such a meeting, in such circumstances, is fgv 
the mode of it to be thus. Let the Rector institute it, as a paro- 
chial prayer-meeting, and when he can, preside over it ;— when he 
cannot, have some clergyman, or some layman whose position and 
character are fit to preside; and let him select and give out the 
hymns, and if he can, arrange beforehand who will sjjeak and pray. 
I have no objection to the freer mode of prayer, but in the College 
circumstances there is need of some rule or public feeling that shall 
prevent certain of the College students from offering to take part in 
prayer or address a miscellaneous meeting. Anywhere, when a 
minor, or any such young person, has put himself forward to pray 


in the presence of an assembly of elders, I have felt it was not a 
favorable indication concerning himself. In such a meeting, for 
such of the lay professors and teachers as well as the clericals to 
take part in prayer and address — and the theological students also 
(with discretion as to the last) — it is not only right, but desirable. 


The Bishop's own son being one of those first interested in this 
revival, it is pleasant to think that his father felt that in his case 
at least it was a genuine work. 

" Before I sailed, and after leaving home, I wrote to him much 
at length, especially as to reading and examining his heart. Xow 
all this I say in confidence to you, that you may know what to do, 
and where to Mork for him and with him. Oh do be faithful with 
him! Would it do him good to be engaged as a Sunday-school 
teacher? Or had he better have the Sunday to himself? Here, in 
my room in Bonn, right under the walls of the University, and in a 
population of Komish superstition, my heart goes over to that dear 
boy at Gambler, and all its anxieties concentrate in this one desire 
and prayer that God in His infinite mercy will make a deep and 
thorough work of grace in his heart, that he may be indeed a fol- 
lower of Christ, in whom the power of His Spirit will be glorified. 
The Lord be with you all. 

" Yrs. very affect'ly, 


Again — 

" Ragatz, Switzerland, Sep. 14th, 1858. 
" My dear Bro. : 

" I wrote you a few days ago concerning my dear boy. My mind 
was too anxious about him. I wish now to say, and I do it with 
great thankfulness and joy, that I received yesterday at Zurich a 
delightful and most precious letter from him, entering sweetly into 
his state of mind. It was dated Aug. 13, and had been much 
delayed in reaching me. But it is just what I wanted, a sweet, 
natural, humble, tender endeavor to make me understand his mind 
spiritually. Blessed be God — for such a consolation ! I could not 
have a letter from him more to my mind. I have but a few 
moments to write, as I wish before I go to bed to write to my son, 
and have been travelling all day. I have now entire confidence in 


the Mork iu liis heart. The Lord be praised for His grace. He is 
readiug the Scriptures regularly, and wishes to be guided to the 
best mode. You cannot serve me in any way more nobly than by 
endeavoring to promote in him the right way of becoming more 
and more enriched by, and in love with the Scriptures. Be his 
helj) in that. He is systematic in secret prayer, and has become 
fond of spiritual, searching reading. He mentions especially his 
sense of the value of, and his love for the little book, ' Advice to 
a Young Christian,' which I gave him, and which I much value. 
I am here iu the S. E. of Switz'd — having come here to-day by 
Lakes Zurich and Wollenstadt, and thence S. E. If you take a 
S. E. line from the head of the latter till you meet the Rhine in 
lat. 47° — you will find my whereal)outs — among the sources of the 
Rhine, and near to the baths of Pfeffers, celebrated for fine Alpine 
scenery, etc. This is an excursion from my main route. Xow 
good-night. The Lord be with you all. 

"Very affectionately yr's, 


"CiSN., O., April 29, '57. 

" My dear Bro. : 

" I have written a letter for the Vestry, and another for the man 
of the two named, whom they may choose. I hope one or the 
other may be got. I am now trying what I may be fit for in a 
visitation, and I find my head more disturbed than I hoped would 
be the case. I do not see that I can expect to endure, and escape 
a sudden and entire break doM'n, except I can restrict my preach- 
ing to about once a Sunday, and perhaps once in the week (on 
visitation), and be exceeding quiet in the intervals. The latter is 
quite as difficult to effect as the former. Incessant talking — the 
worrying needs and infirmities of small parishes — the expectations 
which I cannot gratify — the troubles which I cannot I'elieve — seem 
to wear on me as much as preaching — at least on my spirits much 
more — so that I think my prospect of much more work, except in 
a ver}- quiet way, is not good. I hope I am to have a sou in the 
ministry, Mdio will take up the message as I am dropping it. I 
have such a sense'of the danger of leading in advance of the Lord, 
that I have purposely avoided putting the question of the ministrv 
before him till within two or three weeks. I only want the Lord 


to lead and he with a glad mind, to follow. I trust he will feel 
himself called by God, and ready to say, ' Here am I, send me.' 
He is now in the question, and I pray for him to Him who only 
can teach him. I hope he may escape his weakness of eyes this 
Spring. We were delighted with his spirit at home. He was, as 
before, disappointed and troubled (as much for my sake as his own) 
about his grading, and thinking he was placed lower in Butler than 
he deserved, and I should not wonder if it were the case, because 
with honest and indejiendent men, situated towards me as the 
Professors are, the temptation, instead of being unduly to favor my 
son, will be so to show that they do not — that unconsciously and 
unintentionally they will err on the otiier side. 

" Yrs. affectionately, 


F. Wharton, Esq." 

" Elyria, May 10, '59. 

" My dear Mr. Wharton : 

"As you are the only one who has introduced the matter of an 
Assistant Bishop to me since I went to Europe, I will communicate 
a little that is now on my mind to you as to that matter — not to 
speak of other reasons, for which I have special facility in writing 
to you on so delicate a subject. ... If I am to have an Assistant , 
to give me real relief, of course it must be one in whose harmony 
of views, spirit, and policy, I can justly rely. How many good 
men might be selected, in whom there would be peculiarities that 
would give uneasiness instead of the reverse. Again, the welfare 
of the Diocese, its position as to the whole Church, and the posi- 
tion of the College and Seminary before the Church, require, on the 
part of the Assistant and my successor, such a character, that there 
will be no letting down, no moderating away, no indistinctness or 
indecision as to those features of doctrine, action, influence which 
have placed Ohio where it now is. AVe can gain nothing by more 
moderation, less positiveness, morechurcliiness, — less prayermeeting- 

ness, etc. I have learned in three quarters that some talk of . 

I do not know who thus talk. It may be they imagine that such 
a middle man might carry with the evangelical men, and thus they 
would secure eventually what they want — one of whom they hope 
that the mitre and some antagonism would make him go up higher. 
I hope there will be no looking after anj* such man, and I liope 


popularity of talents will have but a subordinate and very subordi- 
nate influence in the choice; last of all the consideration of a man's 
having means of supporting himself to some extent. Our standard 
is at the mast-head now, and has always been, and to that we owe 
all. It must not come down one inch to jilease anybody, or gain 

anything. Such as , I think a good deal of, and probablv he 

would be a good choice in New Jersey — as good as could be arrived 
at there, — to avoid much worse — but we must have a more house- 
top man, — one who is more grown a great deal in the stature of 
gospel strength, and boldness and decision — one to be a Captain 
when spiritual boldness and decidedness for Christ are the great 

" Yrs. very affect'ly, 


" PiQUA, May 18. 

" Mv DEAR Mr. Wharton : 

"Just before I left home, I rec'd yours acknowledging mv last. 

I had some conversation with Mr. . He thinks Dr. A. would 

secure a larger vote than Dr. B., would be more easily supported, 
and would accommodate himself more readilv to the Gambier plan. 
I like the idea of the Assistant residing at G if a suitable per- 
son, and I like Dr. A. for that purpose, but either would suit me. 
Dr. A. is Calvinistic, and in his strong positiveness of view suits me. 
Dr. B. you know has a prayer-meeting in his Sunday-School room, 
or at least it began there, and he intended, if it grew large enough, 
to have it in his Church. I was at them both. He is good there. 
A dash of Calvinism as A. has, gives definiteness, fixedness, strength, 
confidence in evangelical views, and saves them from dan^rous 
neighborhoods and mixtures of uncertainties. But I love both — 
B. would bring us an increase of N. Y. interests in Gambier. 

Mr. says there is great activity for L , and that he thinks 

they can count on a good many. I cannot imagine who they all 
are, but care must be taken that none whom we desire staj' away — 
for want of knowing that they are called to a special and most 
iraj)ortant w'ork. Much depends on an un-rent garment. But 
there must be much calling on God — "Shew ichom thou ha.<<t chof<en." 
He can bow all minds to one. Let us feel our need of His guid- 


ance and grace. Let us not put oft' prayer till we meet to vote. 
Lot us each privately, constantly ask the Lord to take it all in His 
own hand. 

" Yrs. very affectionately, 


About this time a movement was begun to collect an additional 
number of hymns to those in the Prayer-book. Dr. Wharton was 
one of those appointed by the General Convention to form a Com- 
mittee on the Hymnody of our Church. In this work he was 
very active, and the following letters have been selected for their 
bearing on this subject and for their intrinsic interest. 

"Baltimore, March 17, 18.57. 
" My dear Sir : 

" I shall be most happy to contribute to your proposed work, and 
have been long casting about for materials wherewithal to set forth 
a Hymnal of the kind you have in view. It would be a valuable 
book at any rate, and if well arranged, would I think be adopted 
by the Church. Would it not be almost necessary for those who 
are to co-operate in this business to have one meeting at least ' eye 
to eye' ? 

" Let us take a Scriptural Basis : 

(1) Psalms — versified. 

(2) Hymns — and paraphrased Scripture. 

(3) Spiritual Songs. 

" Under this third head would come in such a song as Bishop 
Meade imagines to be *' addressed to a Star.' Was ever such a 
prosaic mind ? As if the * Star of Jacob' and ' Star of the 
East' were not recognized titles of our Saviour ! Still, our book 
must be for all ' sorts and conditions of men ;' men, whom God 
has made of bone and sinew, as well as those whom he has fash- 
ioned of finer filire, and for different work. Let me hope that 
Bishop Burgess and Bishop Williams will be consulted. They 
have peculiar claims to be so in such a department. But may I 
suggest caution as to other Episcopal members of your ' Commis- 
sion' — or composition rather, — whose talents may be great, but M'ho 

* Star of Bethlehem. 


might uot icork witli such a mau as Bishop Burgess. Dr. Bow- 
man's wise idea of uniting ' conflicting' elements may seem to 
require this abatement. But I say this in confidence. 

" Always, with kind regards, 

" Your friend and brother, 

•FnAxcis WiiAUTOX, Esq." 


" April '22d, 1857 

" My dear 'SIr. Whartox : 

"I fear you did not get my letter answering your last, and con- 
taining the newspaper cutting, which is underlined, relative to the 
authorship of the hymns. In it I stated that my engagements for 
the twenty-third and twenty-fourth render it impossible for me to 
leave home, but I shall be with you in heart, and if you can stop 
over a train, or a night and see me, I can get the results of the 
conference and work accordingly. Give my love to the brethren, 
lay and clerical. I wrote you yesterday about the allegations of 
Dr. T. All my assailants seem to dodge the main issue. None 
of them prove that the Society had a right to embark in this work. 
They all try to shew how great an improvement has been effected. 
This is matter of taste merely ; the noble unity of feeling c«i this 
subject, which exists among us, and even among many others, is a 
good sign. An aged Congregational minister, a professor in one 
of the New England Colleges, has written to assure me that he 
entirely agrees with me in the main drift and scope of my argu- 
ment. Bishop Williams writes me that he goes into the Hymnal 
business with all his heart. I return Dr. M.'s letter, and desire to 
present my kind acknowledgments to your mother for her kind 
invitation which will be not in my power to accept. Please pre- 
sent my kind regards to good Bishop Potter if you meet him. 
" Faithfully yr's, 


"March '24th, 1857. 

" My Dear Sir : 

"Yours of the 23d is certainly a step in advance. It surmounts 
the first difficulties, but if our work is to be a valuable and per- 
manent one, let us be prepared for greater difficulties as we 
advance. The price of all real good seems to me fixed by eternal 


law to a certain ratio of labor. ^V'holl wo have collected our hymns_ 
we must not take thcni crude, but submit them to castigation. 
There are excellent hymns abroad, which need but one word altered 
to be fit for a Church Hymnal, and I take it such words must be 
cast out. The object is, uot to gather the literary ti-easures of the 
language ; they may be found in the works of their respective 
autliors, but we want hymns for the use of edifying, and cannot 
admit any false taste, or false sentiment. Is it not so '! 

" Then I think we should agree to publish our Hymnal on our 
own hook, and merely aim to get it licensed for use (over and 
above those we have) where any congregations may desire it ; not 
removing our present collection from the Prayer-book. If our 
work be well done, the way will open for the gradual absorption 
of the existing collection, and the Hymnal will have grown to 
shape and maturity. I agree with you as to making it a copy- 
right to pay expenses first, and then — to go to a fund for super- 
annuated clergy, or something else good. I like the plan here 
suggested of examining existing hymn-books (what Romish ones 
are there if we except the Breviary hymns ?) but would suggest 
not the striking out the bad ones, which will be legion, but that 
each member should mark those which for any reason he may 
desire to include. On the 1st of September your clerk can make 
out the- list, and in October we can meet and compare, and con- 
sider suggestions as to correction, etc. 

" 2nd. I have anticipatetl tliis difficulty of personal authorship. 
Would it not be well to take the ground that no member of the 
Committee shall include anything of his own, nor allow anything 
original to be included? This is the high-toned principle which 
will give our brethren confidence in our work, as entirely above 
personal and ambitious aims. If, when we are dead and gone, the 
Church should add hymns of ours to her recognized treasures, why 
then Laus Deo! but can we decently propose any of our own 
(winnings or ecstasies) as fit for the public worship of Jehovah? 
I think not. As to Keble, I agree with you entirely, and as to 
the great desirableness of good translations from the Latin and 
German I also agi-ee ; but I fancy we must be content with existing 
tran:^lations. Your plan of sending to Bishop Potter is excellent, 
if tlie contribution of original paraphrases and translations is to be 


tolerated at all. As to original Canuina — I hope they are out of 
the question, but translations are not altogether the same thing. I 
am really very glad you move in this business with so much 
energy. It requires somebody like you to drive together the con- 
genial elements, out of whicii your proposal is to take shape and 
substance. I hope you will not only contribute your share, but 
keej) the rest up to the work. 

" Truly yours, 


" March 19, 1857. 
" My Dear Sir : 

"By all means let us have a partial meeting if we cannot get 
together the M-hole body. I -wish some Southern laymen (low- 
Churcli, if we must use such terms) could be added ; and, by all 
means, let us ask somebody from South Carolina. It is impossible 
for me to leave before Easter, for I have classes and lectures, and 
all sorts of duties every day. But Easter comes April 12th. The 
10th is Good Friday (when I should be sorry to iiaveyou engaged in 
moving by the way), and on the whole I fear we may not be able 
to get together much before jMay. Tiie Board of Missions in the 
Autumu will afford a good chance for a rally. I do not anticipate 
much ]:)ractical difference among ourselves. As you say, in prayer 
and praise we surely can agree, and all who have the root of the 
matter in them do agree far more than they imagine. I am a Low- 
Churchman too, if that means the finest of the wheat for food, but I 
. am a High-Churchman too, because we want the bran besides for 
seed. My view is that the High-Cluirchman, who is not high and 
diy^, values the outworks for the sake of the Inworks, and the hulk 
only because when that is destroyed, you cannot preserve the vital 
principle. Where has the Gospel survived when tiie Ciiurch system 
has been lost ? I suspect you go as far as that However, we can 
sing and pray together to all Eternity. Perhaps (if we cannot meet) 
the time till next October might be profitably spent, by letting each 
member select all the hymns, etc. which he would care to include. 
Then let us compare notes, and half the work will be done. 
" Faithfully yours, 



Dr. ^Muhlenberg thus writes : — 

"New York, ISIareh 12th, '57. 
" My dear Sir : 

" I am rejoiced at your proposition for a good Ciiurch Hymn- 
book, and shall feel it a privilege to have a hand in it, but it will 
be a work of labor, and of more labor I fear than is likely to be 
o-iven to it. You name excellent men for it, but how much of 
their time, talents, and pains would they contribute? They cannot 
work apart, or at least not wholly so. They must meet from time 
to time. Passing manuscripts around and exchanging their criti- 
cisms in writing would be an endless business. Certainly there 
must be a preparatory meeting to determine the principles on which 
the selection shall be made — how large it shall be — whether for 
public or private use — or both, etc. The first thing is to get 
together those you name — and auy others — and let them agree 
together heartily upon the work, and to prosecute it faithfully. I 
will attend such a meeting. The burden will fell chiefly on your- 
self. You should be the standing executive in the recess of the 
committee. In the outset, as far as I am concerned, I should like 
to have a good long talk with you, for which purpose suppose you 
run over here on Saturday, and spend Sunday with me. I wish 
you would. AVe should then have made a beginning. I cannot 
go to Philadelphia during Lent, and you must not put it off till 
after Easter, so it is demonstrable that you should come here. 
" Yr's very truly, 


Mr. R. H. Dana thus writes : — 

"March 13th, '57. 
" Dear Sir : 

"You must pardon ray too long delay in answering your letter. 
I have never paid particular attention to the subject on which you 
write, and to take part in what you propose so as at all to satisfy 
myself would require more of me than I can do now in my poor 
state of health. I wish that I could feel more hopeful of your 
success, but I fear that the result might be another instance of the 
truth of the homely adage : ' Too many cooks, etc' Besides, we 
have been so used to singing narratives in verse — to singing one 
to another — each about himself — to singing doctrines put into 


rhyme, and they often not of the soundest, that the distinctive 
idea of a hvmn being a form of supplication, of thanks and of 
praise, of its being essentially direct worship of God possesses too 
few men to allow of a large Commission which would bring forth 
a selection worthy of the Church. If so, the authority which a 
large Commission would have over the people, would only serve to 
prolong the present evil, or at best but to practically soften and 
modify it. To start with, there must go to such a work, the promi- 
nent idea of direct worship ; then a musical ear, nice discrimina- 
tion, pure taste, depth and delicacy of feeling, and a susceptible 
imagination, easily borne upward. The thoughts and spirits of 
those working together must be in general harmony. Talk as we 
may, high and low can hardly act together with a natural consci- 
entiousness in such a delicate matter, and if they cannot act 'natu- 
rally, the result must be little worth. For the most part, compro- 
mises only stave off present difficulties to meet us again by and 
by in greater force. Let compromises in among the finer feelings, 
and all will be quickly in a tangle. Defective as matters now are, 
would it not be better to wait for the day of minds better pre- 
pared for such a work, and are they not gradually forming ? Or, 
if there must be action, would it not be best for some one person 
fitted for the work to undertake it, occasionally advising in a quiet 
way with a few, on whose judgment and taste he had reliance".* 
The task done, and recommendations from those standing high in 
the Church being procured, the book would go forth with much tlie 
same authority as from a Commission, and probably with a char- 
acter of much more self-congruity. Let the work be undertaken 
how and when it may be, would not two hundred, or even a less 
number be better than Mr. Beecher's three hundred pieces? ►How- 
ever great the selection, people V)ecome fond of, and commit to 
memory only a few out of the many, and it is curious to observe 
how common it is for all sorts of individuals to fasten upon the 
same hymns. A large number of pieces serve little other purpose 
than to distract the mind, and remove the distinct impression of the 
few — choice and few ! If a selection should be made, what a bless- 
ing it would be if a small selection of tunes approjiriated to the 
several hymns should accompany it. Is not a good deal of what I 
have said about liymns still more applicable to what is called sacred 
music ? But who is the man to whom to entrust such a work ? 


Pardon mv troubling you with all this. I had no thought of doing 
so when I began. The same things have doubtless been considered 
by you long ago. 

" Truly yr's, 

" Boston, Mass. "RICHARD H. DANA." 

Mr. R. H. Dana, Jr., thus writes : 

"Cambridge (Boston). 
" Sunday ev'g, JIarch 22d, '57. 
" INIy de.^r Sir : 

" I feel flattered by being selected as one of the Commission for 
so laudable a purpose as you have in hand. A few years ago, I 
should have accepted the oifer gladly, and from duty. But my 
engagements now are so pressing, I am so precisely in that ' dead 
waste, and middle' of professional life, between thirty-five and 
forty-five, when the decision for the condition of the rest of life is 
to be made, that I am sure I could not do justice to the Office, nor 
to myself. Another reason that influences, is that for many years 
I have lost all interest in metrical hymns, and their music, — so 
much so that I rarely open the Prayer-book when the hymns or 
metrical psalms are given out. I would gladly see the whole 
of our metrical psalms laid aside from the Prayer-book, and the 
Clergy at liberty to give out passages from the Psalter instead. Of 
the two hundred and twelve hymns in our Prayer-book I should 
probably use my veto against the two hundred, and be rather 
an impracticable member of a Commission. In my own family 
worship, the circle consisting of the two hea^s, and children under 
fourteen, we have never sung anything but one of three or fjur of 
the old Gregorian chants in unison, and we are extremely attached 
to them. I cannot expect all to feel as I do on this i3oint, and I 
have no doubt that a book of hymns edited by this Commission 
would be serviceable and popular. But I should be an over-occu- 
pied and impracticable member, and jjorhajis this is not a perma- 
nent mood witli me. On one point, your opinion rather surprises 
me — that is that there are not great doctrinal diiferences in hymns. 
It has always seemed to me that, especially with those who have 
no Liturgy, the hymns and versions of Psalms have been powerful, 
constant, and unperoeived indoctrinations. I have found, on going 
to the bottom of the matter, that much doctrine can be traced to 


them. For instance, how much of that melancholy, dubious, and 
moi"tuary view of the condition of souls after death, and opposition 
to prayers for the dead, may be traced to Dr. Watts's hymn : ' Life 
is the time, etc.' Grand and gloomy it is too ! Let me ask you, 
by the way, if Crabbe's Methodist hymn in Sir Eustace Gray 
' Pilgrim burdened with thy sin' is to be found complete and un- 
garblcd anywhere ? It seems to me one of the best of its kind. I 
congratulate you, my dear Sir, on liaving the heart and energy for 
this work. It will not return to you void, even if the Commission 
does not succeed. 

" Believe me, very truly yr's, 

"FiiAxcis Wharton, Esq." 

The following is from Bp. Bowman : — 

"Lancaster, Mar. 13, '57. 
" F. Wharton, Esq. 

"My dear Sir : I thank you for two nice little Hymn Books 
this morning received. Kyle's selection I am acquainted with. The 
other is new to me. Ryle's is excellent. His 4th Hymn ' Just as 
I am, etc.,' is worth a score of the trashy productions we so often 
meet with, having neither Gospel nor Poetry to recommend them. 
I shall have pleasure in examining the other, as soon as I find 

" I write now to excuse my seeming neglect in finishing an 
article promised for your columns. I am the less concerned, how- 
ever, because I daresay your readers care veiy little whether they 
see it soon or never, but I have been unable to find time, and still 
more so to fix my mind upon it. To increase my distractions, 
P. has just received a very advantageous (pecuniarily) offer from 
Davenport, Iowa, which he has determined to accejit. My i-esig- 
nation was in the hands of the Wardens, but not yet acted upon by 
the Vestry. Now I must recall it, and embark again in that most 
perplexing inquiry — 'The search for a clergyman who will woi-k 
hard on little pay.' If you know of such a one, pray let me 
hear. As soon, however, as I can, I will resume a subject on which 
my («nvictions grow stronger the more I investigate it. In the 
meantime I remain, 

"Very truly yr. friend, 



"Lancaster, April 7th, '57. 
" My dear Sir : 

" Your notes and the parcel have come safely. I thank you for 
them. I am afraid I shall not be able to do euougli on the Com- 
mission to compensate for all the trouble I am putting you to ; but 
I will be at least a willing laborer, if not a. very efficient one. If 
there is anytliing to be done at the proposed meeting on the 24th, 
I certainly (D. V.) will come down. I should be very glad to meet 
some of the Committee, and hear the matter talked over. If then. 
Dr. ]\Iuhlenberg and Mr. Cox will certainly be in the City on the 
day named, I will try to meet tliem. My reason for not pursuing 
the subject of Free Churches with more alacrity, was, tliat I doubted 
if there was any lively interest felt in tlie subject. If you think it 
wortii while, however, I will complete my original design, wliich 
iudeed I liad not abandoned, but only postponed. 

" I thank you for your suggestion of the name of INIr. R. The 
greatest favor to me now would be to find a man of earnest spirit, 
capable of work, and not afraid of it. But if the politicians have 
faith to believe that the right man appears at the right time. 
Christians ought not to doubt, that if the work be really for the 
glory of God, God will certainly send some one to perform it. 
I think you take tlie right view in regard to new translations and 
original compositions, provided they are good, and of that, the 
Commission will judge, as they will in all other cases. Did yon 
ever see a selection for public and private occasions published I)y 
the late Dr. Milnor, I think (for it was anonymous) ? I liad a 
copy of it many years ago, but unfortunately have mislaid it. It 
contained I think about two hundred hymns. I remember several 
capital ones that were in it, but they can be found elsewhere. If 
the meeting on the twenty-fourth should be abandoned, have the 
goodness to let me know. Hoping to see you at that time, 
" Very truly yr's, 


" Lancaster, Sep. 28, '57. 
" Dear Sir : 

"Yours of the 22nd received. I have been looking forward 
with great interest to the proposed meeting in Ne^v York next 
month, but after all I must deny myself the pleasure of being 


present. A wedding that I cannot be dispensed from officiating at, 
is fixed for the 14th of October. Of course it will be out of 
the question that I should be at both. I regret my disappointment 
the less however, because I think I should be of little service on 
the Committee. My thoughts have been too much distracted this 
summer by other and indispensable engagements at home to permit 
me to give that care to the business of the Committee that I find 
it requires. I am surprised to hear from Dr. Muhlenberg that 
he had made his selection of 600 Hymns, and has them all 
arranged under suitable heads. He has had large experience in 
this sort of work, and has probably acquired a facility that I 
cannot pretend to. From tiie progress I have yet made I doubt 
whether I should find 600 hymns in our whole language that 
would satisfy me. As I jjroceed, I am more and more struck with 
the superior finish and more uniform excellence of our own col- 
lection. Certainly, we have some that have no very high poetical 
pretensions, but where these are wanting, there is usually some 
clear enunciation of important Scriptural truth that more than 
makes up for the absence of poetic merit. In other collections I 
find a great many very commonplace hymns, and even hymns of 
acknowledged excellence are frequently disfigured by low, familiar, 
and irreverent expressions or words. Our hymns, for the most 
part, are carefully pruned of all this. "With me, the process of 
selection is very slow. I find that after reading three, four, or 
half a dozen hymns in succession, I begin to lose the power of 
clear perception and just discrimination. I am puzzled to select, 
when there is often such an equality of merit, and pass over many 
hymns of considerable merit in the hope of finding enough thjt is 
better to make up the requisite number. I have now, however, 
no hope of doing that, and shall only indicate those, whether many 
or few, that approve themselves to my judgment. At the same 
time it is likely that upon a review I should in many cases throw 
out those that I had at first selected and admit as many that I had 
rejected. This preliminary selection will do very well for a 
beginning, but I am persuaded that the better plan will be for 
the Committee to be together in their examinations and selections ; 
let the hymns be read aloud, and let the criticisms be made on the 
instant and from all sides. The collision will sharpen every one's 
faculties, and every man will do his part better, if he does it under 


sucli a stimulus. As far as practicable, however, I suppose the 

Committee will follow this course. I am sorry that I can do little 

more than wish you a pleasant time, and a prosperous prosecution 

of the objects of the Committee. 

" Very truly yr. friend, 

"Francis Wiiakton, Esq." 

In opposition to the somewhat wet blanket nature of the latter 
letters, are given below Dr. Muhlenberg's views as published by 
him at that time in his ' Memorial' pamphlet : — 

" Singing in metre is ever the delight of the masses moved by 
religion. The hymu in the church answers to the ballad in the 
nation. The chorales of Luther did as much for the Reformation 
as his preaching. Not to cite from history the many instances in 
point, what would Methodism, at its rise, have done without its 
hymnody? What would it now do? It sprang from the bosom 
of the English Church, but not there did it get this instrument 
of its success — not there did it gather the rhythm of its hallelujahs 
that rent the air wherever the preacher lifted his voice. So little 
of sacred melody did its author find in use among the people, that 
for the stirring compositions with which he roused their devotions, 
he had recourse, in part, to secular airs. He has been blamed for 
this, but it was a necessity of the times. The ])eople must sing, 
and they could sing only what they knew. He and his brother 
could not make tunes for all the verses they wrote. The tongues 
and ears of the common people had not been familiarized to the 
songs of Zion. The Evangelical movement was also marked by 
a new out-pouring of hymns and melodies which have been the 
means of cherishing divine affections in the heart of thousands from 
that day to this. Meanwhile the legitimate parochial j)salmody 
kept on, from generation to generation, in the doggrel of Stcrnhold 
and Hopkins, or the somewhat improved rhymes of Tate and 
Brady, sung to the tunes approved by the parish clerk. Hymns 
were rare. The two of Bishop Ken for morning and evening 
(worth indeed an hundred of most others) were almost the only 
ones in general use. In the old English Prayer-books we find 
some half a dozen more, differing in different editions. The ex- 
treme poverty of the English Church in this aliment of popular 


devotiun is remarkable and indicative, may we not say, of her 
genius — how unlike the treasures of evangelical hymnody in the 
churches of the continent, particularly the Lutheran and Moravian? 
It is a healthful sign of late years that the use of hymns lias now 
become much more common in the English congregations. In this 
respect their freedom is much larger than ours. Every congrega- 
tion may have a book of its oM'n. The church in this country has 
evinced a remarkable disaffection to hymns. Until the year 1808 
the whole of the authorized number was 27, it M^as then enlarged 
to 56. Id 1826 the present 208, not until afler considerable oppo- 
sition, were admitted (of which it is relevant to remark in passing, 
a large number are the compositions of non-Episcopalians), but 
with the retention of that most extraordinary rubric which forbids 
their use on any occasion when one of the psalms in metre is 
not also sung. This operates to the entire exclusion of hymns 
whenever the order for morning or evening prayer is alone used, 
although of that order the psalms make so large a part. Hence, 
in churches in which there is the daily service, not a song of praise 
is heard except on Sundays and holy days, in which a Jew as well 
as a Christian might not join. Whence this jealousy of evangelical 
devotion, and of a form of it, in which, as has been said, the com- 
mon people especially delight ? Is it a sign that ours is a church 
for tlie common people ? 

" The Church of England has a sublime song of her own in the 
choral service and glorious anthem of her cathedrals — that constant 
otfering of praise, worthy of the great people of whom it may be 
considered as the solemn matin and vesper song of the nation. 
Grand as it is, in that point of view — esto perpetua — it yet touches 
not the immediate consciousness of the people. They ai'e not 
active in it. It is the delegated service of the official choir, uttered 
six days out of seven, almost in solitude, and amid no crowds on 
the seventh. The common people pass the cathedral unallured by 
its time-hallowed strains, for the conventicle in whose hearty melo- 
dies they can take their part. We may say it is bad taste, and that 
it is the church's office to elevate men's tastes. Very well, but 
aside from the de ffudibus it is not her firet object ; it does not 
come into her pioneer work. There may be rudeness, even coarse- 
ness to our ears, and yet true worship, which, too, may be all the 
heartier for those very qualities. We boast of the social character 


of our service compared with that of some other Christians, as we 
may justly do, looking at its idea. But how is it iu practice, in 
practice so nearly universal that there must be something in our 
system to account for if? where is there actually the most social 
worship? In one of our churches with the whispered response of 
the people and the song of praise confined to the quartette in the 
organ loft, or in the Wesleyan meeting with its shouted glorias and 
spontaneous amens ?" 

The result of the Commission is well known. A book of 500 
Hvmns, called ' Hymns for Church and Home,' Mas published, 
and used for some years ; then suj)erseded by a smaller number 
of 'Additional Hymns' bound up with those iu the Prayer-book, 
and this was finally merged in the Hymnal now in use. 

Dr. Wharton's editorship of the ' Protestant Episcopal Quarterly 
Review,' in conjunction with Dr. John Cotton Smith and Dr. 
INIav of the Alexandria Seminary, led to some correspondence of 
which these letters alone remain. 

"Theol. Sem., Feb. Gth, '57. 

" My dear Friend : 

" Your letter from Pittsburg was very kind, and did me good. 
I rejoice to hear such a good account of Kenyon. Some defections 
among so many youths setting out towards the Kingdom of God 
are not strange, that is they are things which all experience would 
have led us to expect, but much good seed no doubt will ripen. 
Your project of a mission to Kansas is good — excellent, but we 
are to see you here first. Give us 4th, 5tb, 6th, 7th, etc. etc. of 
March, and bring ]\Ir. Bohlen. Are we not to have more lec- 
tures? I vote yea most loudly. If no editorial Board for the 
' Review' can be had in Philadelphia, could tiiere not be a Board 
of Assistants tliere, and an Editor here ? The ' Review' might be 
printed in Philadelphia and published in the tM'o cities. New York 
and Philadelphia. Dr. Dyer remains the New York agent. I 
throw this out for consideration. It can be brought up wlien you 
and Mr. Bohlen come on. Dr. Dyer writes me word that since 
the January number, some new subscribers have been obtained. 
I received this week delightful letters from Africa. As I read 
them to Mrs. May and Miss Bowman, they werein tears. Such 
correspondence refreshes and helps me. It goes to my heart. 
Oh that all our Church could drink more of the Spirit given to 


tlieui. The missionaries seem now to be in good health, and much 
encoui-aged. The great Mant, which they especially feel, is that 
of more laborers. 

" Affectionately your friend, 


"Lancaster, May 20, '58. 
" My dear Friend : 

" Your last letter addressed to me here I received a few days ago. 
Providence favoring, I shall leave this to-morrow, and be at the 
Seminary next day. I should have been there this week, but that 
Dr. Sparrow wrote me my classes would be broken up by the large 
portion going to the Virginia Convention at Winchester. I i-e- 
ceived to-day a very well written article for the ' Review' from the 
Rev. W. ]M. Pendleton of Lexington, Va., on the ' Ancient races 
of Men.' I had had no intimation of his wish to write it, till I 
received it this morning. I shall send it to Dr. Dyer to be ready 
in case of need to fill up the July number. If not needed, it can 
lie over. What prospect or plan for contributions, for the next 
number, after July, can you jjresent ? Can you not engage sojne 
proper pens in our service? Could we not have an article on 
the Modern Theology of England ? I mean Maurice's, Kingsley's, 
Jowett's, etc. Then you could give us besides that a review of 
Dickens, Currer Bell, Thackeray, etc. Be pleased to write me 
at the Seminary. I am in communication witli no one who can 
give me news. My time is spent in Mrs. May's chamber. By 
the good Hand of God, she has respite from suffering and has 
been able, after being carried to a vehicle, to ride a mile or two. 
Though I get no news, I Dr. Vinton or Dr. Bedell will 
be appointed Bishop. I wish I could slip out to see you at 
Gambier for a while, but now mj' duties at the Seminary will be 
doubled and trebled to the end of our term. My love to Brother 
Griffin. Mrs. May desires kindest regards to you and to him also. 

" Yr. affectionate friend, 


'•Theol. Sem., June 4, '58. 
" My dear Friend : 

" Your letter having in the same envelope a letter to Bishop 
Bowman reached me this evening. You have done no more than 


an honest and candid man should do. I higlily approve of your 
letter to him. The election took me entirely by surprise. I had 
expected a majority on the first ballot for Dr. Vinton of twenty- 
five or thirty. The Lord's ways are not our ways. We may have 
been relying too much on the wisdom of man. Evangelical religion 
has not often been in power by means of majorities, and perhaps 
has been generally weakened when it has been. Its power lies in 
the preaching of the Word of God and prayer. A free pulpit, a 
free. press, and free access to God in jirayer cannot be taken away. 
I think we are called on to be moi-e distinct, more decided, and 
more earnest in preaching the Gospel. We must rely less on the 
world, and be more simple in faith. If I could see you for some 
private conversation I might have some things to say. I shall be 
glad to be more closely associated with you in holding forth the 
truth through the Press. Do you move the ' Recorder,' and I 
would I could efficiently aid in moving the ' Review.' I do long 
to have the Gospel more distinctly and more earnestly preached. I 
hear much preaching, even from men reported to be evangelical, 
which as I look at the matter, is very defective. It is good as far 
asnt goes, but it comes short of a full and faithful exhibition of the 
Gospel. God will not peculiarly bless anything but his own word, 
simplv and faithfully preached. I have been tried, sorely tried in 
the suffering which it has pleased the Lord to send on my wife, 
but I trust good will come of it, in making the Gospel more pre- 
cious. She is better, but still very weak. Hold you to tlie ' Recor- 
der.' You know how to be faithful and honest, and at the same 
time courteous. You have, in that paper, the means of immeasur- 
able power, but you need no testimony on that point. We need 
now and then some lesson of humility and dependence on God. 
The Lord will show us it is not by might nor by power that he 
builds up His Kingdom. If we become more humble and faithful, 
honor and exalt more and more his Word and Holy Spirit, we may 
look for more proofs of His favor. 

" Your affectionate friend, 


The election referred to in this letter was that of Assistant Bishop 
of Pennsvlvania. The enclosed letter referred to was one written 
to Bishop Bowman upon his election, and is as follows : 



"Gambikr, May 29, 1858. 

"My dear Sir: 

" I have just seen, in the Cincinuati paper of tliis morniug, the 
announcement of your election as Assistant Bishop. I cannot but 
congratulate you per.soually and express my gratification that since 
the election has not fallen on one belonging to the school to which 
I have lieen peculiarly attached, and to which I owe all my relig- 
ious training, it has fallen on one so just and liberal as youi-self. 
Had I been in the convention, I would have felt bound to cast my 
vote with those with whom my ecclesiastical associations have been 
most close ; as it is I will be one of the first and most cheerful in 
acquiescing. But I cannot forbear in once more laying before you 
rav earnest conviction of the paramount necessity of toleration in 
the choice of ecclesiastical mechanism, whether missionary or other- 
wise. Yon are about to assume the leading position, — second only 
to one whom we all pray God may long continue but ^\'hose failing 
health admonishes us of the precarious tenure we all have in his 
labors, — in a diocese in which I will probably never again reside, 
but in whose concerns I have for some years taken a most interested 
part. I firmly believe that any attempt to coerce uniformity in 
Pennsylvania for either school would be attended with the most 
disastrous consequences both to our prosperity and peace, — I believe 
that the unexampled prosperity of the last ten years is owing to 
such toleration having been allowed. I cannot but say this to you, 
speaking as one who greatly loves Pennsylvania and the church in 
Pennsylvania, and speaking to one who in future will have such 
great power for the common good. • 

"It may not be improper for me to add that I continue to be 
responsible for the general management of the ' Recorder,' so tar 
as its literary and theological departments are concerned. My 
distance prevents me from taking any active controversial — or 
local part in its management. I can only say that while I con- 
tinue to have control of the ))aper, however much you may have 
occasion to dissent from its course in matters of general polity, you 
will always find it yielding to 30U that personal and aifectionate 
respect which has always been felt by me towards you. 

" Yrs. sincerely, 



" I hope that you will pay us a visit at Gambier. We have 
twenty Penna. students, most of them looking forward to the 
Ministry. I should be delighted to have you as a guest at my 

To this letter we give Bishop Bowman's reply : 

"Lancaster, June 4th, '58. 
" F. Wharton, Esq., 

" My dear Sir : Your letter was very kind and acceptable, 
hardly the less so coming from a theological opponent. AVhere 
such opposition is frankly avowed, as in your case, and where it is 
not felt that differences should produce dissensions and quarrels, 
I can see but little evil in those diversities which must ever exist 
among men, at least as long as they do not transcend the liberty 
which the Church allows us. It was the fault of the Church of 
Eome, in going beyond what was written, and attempting to define 
tiie mode of Christ's presence in the blessed Sacrament that gave 
rise to an .agitation and a controversy that a thousand years have 
not been able to settle. I am for the largest liberty which the 
Church allo\\'S. I suppose you ask no more, and that you do not 
think it a Christian duty to break terras with me, because we 
cannot on every point, entirely agree. I am at a loss therefore to 
understand your zealous advocacy of separate missionary and other 
organizations. The mischief of divisiou and the advantages of union 
are, to my mind such self-evident truths, tliat I am perplexed when 
I hear so conciliatory and sensible a man as yourself, apparently 
advocating divided action, on the grounds of expediency and prin- 
ciple. I wish to see all hearts in sympathy, and all hands joined 
in action, and on a ground of perfect equality. Or, if either side 
or scliool gain pre-eminence in our voluntary agencies by superior 
zeal or liberality, let them enjoy and use it. ' Ferat qui meruit 
palmam.' But for decency's sake, for the sake of our common 
Mother the Church, for the sake of Him who purchased that Ciiurch 
with His own Blood, let us not present to the world, the aspect of 
a divided house, the hideous spectacle of brethren wasting on each 
other's overthrow that zeal which ought only to be expended against 
the common foe. But I gladly quit the ungrateful theme, with the 
assurance, my dear Mr. Wharton, that however we may differ in 
questions of policy and expediency, or even of theological doctrine. 


we shall never be found arrayed agaiust each other iu an un- 
brotherly strife. Regretting to hear von say, that you are not likely 
again to be a resident of the Diocese of Pennsylvania, and sincerely 
hoping, that whatever future intei'coiirse Providence may permit 
between us may be as pleasant and cordial as the past has been, I 
remain, my dear Mr. Wharton, with sincere and unabated regard, 
, ' " Your friend, 


It is to be regrettetl that so few of Dr. ^Vhartou's own letters 
can be found to give to this ilemorial. He wrote and constantly 
to many correspondents, but as his letters were generally for a pur- 
pose, they were confinal to that purpose, and were brief and to the 
point. They have probably not been preserved. His letters to 
his famih' were, though most loving and affectionate, full of local 
and humorous allusions, which would only be appreciated by those 
who received them. Writing, as he did, so much for the press, his 
letters were his relaxation, and he very rarely touched on topics of 
general interest. A few have, howe\"er, been selected for jjublica- 
tiou, though their dates will carry us back some years. 

TO MRS. CHARLES SIXKLER (his sister). 

Phil., Dkc. 13, 185L 
" My Dear Emily : 

" I am now sitting out a long speech of my colleague, Judge 
Champneys, in the distribution of the funds of the Bank of the 
Unitetl States — a matter you may recollect I have had in hand 
several years. Our first step, you know, was to get a judgment for 
over a million of dollars. Unfortunately, however, the judgment 
was against the bank herself. As she is now entirely insolvent, our 
next step was to attach the property she has assigned to tnistees 
for the payment of certain debts. It is in this work we are noM' 
engaged. If we ftucceed noic, we get pretty large fees. So you see 
we have something more at stake than mere glory. We have now 
been engageil in arguing the question for three evenings a week for 
nearly three weeks. I began as the junior counsel for the State, 
and was followed by George Wharton, Mr. Cadwalader, and Mr. 
AVilliams, for the trustees. We are now winding up the discussion 
with an elaborate speech from Judge Champneys. As I have got 


through my part, I am now, under the semblance of taking notes, 
writing you a letter. If you find the letter somewhat disconnected, 
you must charge it to the speech. If Judge Champneys endeavors 
to prove my recolletrtion of his speech, I am afraid he will find that 
recollection very much affected by the notions I am putting in this 

"I did get your letter about Robert, and I believe I furnished you 
with his riglit direction. In considering whether it reached him 
or not, please consider (1) that Robert has been on a long journey, 
and (2) that I have a faint recollection that he told me when in 
Philadelphia he had heard from you, and asked me to reply 
that he had answered yon. He looked very gallant and high- 
spirited, and as if he would enjoy nothing better tlian soaring up 
in a balloon and droi)ping down at Woodford ! 

" I will send with this one or two Church papers, which will 
give you some idea how we are getting on in religious matters. 
Mr. Dalrymple (this is the last piece of news whicli is [larticularly 
for ^^'harton) is going not only to be a clergyman, but an Epis- 
copal clergyman, and goes to Alexandria in a few weeks. So there 
is even a chance of his being a SottHicni minister, and giving 
Wharton a chance of hearing him preach. 

" I am afraid St. Jude's comes on but poorly. I should not be 
surprised if Mr. Miller resigned in the course of a couple of months. 
The pews are no more filled up than they were on the first month, 
and there seems no chance of their being so under the present 
administration. I have a plan which in the case of there being a 
clear field I think may be executed. It is to have our old friend 
Minnegerode, who is one of the most eloquent preachers in Virginia, 
to preach both in English and in German — the latter in the even- 
ing. You know the Prayer-book has been translated into German, 
and yet, though we have .50,000 Germans in Philadelphia, we 
have no Episcopal German service. 

" Kossuth's New York dinner speech is the subject — I don't want 
to use a superlative — of intense surprise and admiration. Since 
Peter the Hermit no political orator has ever spoken so. He says, 
when asked how he acquired tiie English language, — that he can't 
tell, — that it seems almost inspiration. I believe the feeling here 
is that history does not give another instance like this where a 
foreigner made such a speech, both as to language and material. 


Mother has become a vehement Hungarian ; and you can i-eeeive 
as some proof of this the fact that she listens, not only patiently 
but delightedly, as Henry reads seven columns of his speech con- 

" Ever yours, 

"F. AV." 


"Philadelphia, Mch. 7, '52. 
" My DEAR Charle.s : 

" This is my birthday, but unfortunately it is the first Sunday 
for several years that I have been detained in the house. I caught 
a heavy cold a few days ago, and having in vain tried all other 
remedies, last night, much against the wishes of the family, I took 
hold of your remedy, — viz. — hot water and hot tea, lielped on by 
a Dover's powder. Of course I had to be hermetically sealed all 
day; but under the united influence of the three applications, I am 
getting quite well, and to-morrow shall be able to go to work as 
vigorously as ever. — I send you a circular of a new reading-room 
in which I am very much interested, and which we are about 
to open only a door or two below our house. I think you will 
enjoy it when you come on, as you certainly are going to do this 
spring. Aside from the religious newspapers which are the most 
questional)le of its receipts, it will liave on its tables all the prac- 
tical foreign religious papers, and the current new books of the 
day. — But I think the feature Avhich is the most beneficial is that 
you will observe in the circular, which provides for a series of visit- 
ing committees who will visit such young men as are strange in the 
city, connected with the Episcopal Church, and will provide for 
theni suitaljle boarding-houses, church accomiiKjdation, etc. I con- 
sider these features likely to produce immense practical good ; and 
the more so when you observe that the board of managers are 
almost entirely what may be called ' evangelical.' — If it were not 
that I would be afraid the term would be unpopular with you, I 
would say ' low church,' l>y \\hich I mean a decicled antagonism 

to , or worldly old school Episcopalianisiii, for which you 

kuo^\■ I have a cordial detestation. 

" I think I wrote to Emily that D., who you took some interest 
in, left me some weeks ago for the Alexandria Seminary. He 


staggered so much at the Westminster Confession that lie at the 
last moment gave up Presbyterian ism, and I think will be an 
ornament to our church, both from his pietv and talents. 

" H. has been in town for some time, and says he has written a 
full letter to you, explaining how his first miscarried. From the 
impression on his mind as to your direction, I should not wonder 
if the second went after the first. 

" jNIother remains really about stationary. She is in excellent 
spirits, however, and looks wonderfully. Henry is well. Give 
my love to Emily, Wharton (mi/ boy) and Lizzy, and believe me 
yours ever. 

"F. W." 

"Phil., Dec. 15, 1855. 

" My de.^r Emily : 

" Your very acceptable letters with the enclosed extracts for the 
' Recorder' have duly arrived. As you probably have already seen 
in the ' Recorder,' the ' Scripture Florist' (if I have its name right) 
has already begun to make its appearance. One awkward mistake 
came near happening to the Lily, which emerged from the printing- 
office in the shape of Tilly. I believe it was Mary's investigating 
eye which discovered the discrepancy and led to its correction. 

" It is out of the question for me to go to the South this winter. 
... I have gone into one or two extravagances lately in the shape 
of a chandelier and a grate in the library. The room is now almost 
the perfection of comfort. — I cannot always .send you the ' Banner.' 
It often gets hooked off from my office, and sometimes is cut up. 
The 'Churchman' and the 'P. Churchman' are I suppose the next 
most entertaining. The ' Southern Churchman' I think is the 
best, but I generally make so many incisions into it as to make its 
remains scarcely worth having. 

" I have ^vritten to Bishop Ellidtt (who is to be here in April) 
to stay with me, and I propose to ask all the South Carolina dele- 
gation (out of compliment to Charles), to come to my house at the 
General Convention in October. Why will not Charles get elected 
a delegate from South Carolina himself? I hope you will make a 
point of being in the city at that period, as there will be a great 
deal that will improve as well as amuse. I want you to spend the 
first half of ^-our visit with vie in the fall. I nieau August and 


September down to October 10. Then the S. C. delegation will 
come. I want you to pick out which wovild be the pleasantest, and 
invite them at your convention for me. I expect Mr. Reed and 
Mr. Shaw, if the latter comes, which I hope he will, as I have had 
a very pleasant corresjiondence with him. 

" George desires me to say that he is quite an example, being now 
engaged in copying a very heavy extract for the ' Recorder.' 
" Give my best love to Charles and the children. 

"F. W." 

"Gambikr, Nov. 14, 1857. 

" My Dear Emily : 

" I have just got home from a country school in which, in con- 
nection with one of the theological students, I have been holding 
services and 'preaching' all day long. I am now fturly settled 
here for the fall term ; and indeed I am very glad to have escaped 
the turmoil and excitement of city life at such a time as this. I do 
not think things ever looked so badly. The foundations of cliarac- 
ter seem to be shaken. I was not so much shocked at P.'s defalca- 
tion, for I had known but little of him. ... I hsd a letter from 
C. P. on Wednesday, and another from mother yesterday. 

" I have lent the college $3000 on mortgage on a piece of land 
belonging to them, and they are putting up a house for me to 
occupy as long as I continue to lecture here. The situation is 
beautiful, being very much like John Bohlens', only there is a 
river flowing at the foot. The house is a plain one — three stories 
high in front, and two behind, with attics. On the first floor is 
the dining-room and kitchen. Over this are a parlor and a study, 
with a large hall. There are four chambers above, and two over 
that. The portico runs on three sides of the house. There is a 
balcony on the second story. The house will be ready by the 
middle of April, and I hope to move out the great body of my 
furniture then. I do trust you will be persuaded to spend next 
summer here. There never was such healtiiy mountain air, or 
such a place for children. I keep two horses and a carriage, and 
will buy a horse for "Wharton if you come on. I have just super- 
intended putting up a stable with three stalls for the horses, and 
stalls for two cows for the children. 1 have also an uncommonlv 


fine setter-pup (called ' Mill-Creek/ in compliment to one of Mr. 
B.'s parishes), raising for the boys. I cannot see how you can 
hesitate about coming. 

" 'W^ith love, ever yr's, 

"F. W." 

"Gambier, 1858. 

" My dear Emily : 

" Above you will find a picture of our new building (Ascension 
Hall), which I hope will meet with your approbation. I am sorry 
to sav, however, that it will not be done in time for your visit, 
though before you are even to think about leaving, it will present 
quite a considerable front. I am happy to announce that notwith- 
standing all our fears to the contrary, we have just had a snap of 
cold weather which will enable my ice-house to be filled. So you 
mav congratulate yourselves on having ice ad libitum. 

" The house is almost finished. It is entirely plastered, with the 
e.xcei)tion of the final coating on the dining-room and kitchen. 
The rooms are very much the size of the rooms in my Spruce 
Street house, with the exception that my dining-room is not quite 
as large as that in Phila. I have two parlors with folding doors. 
The back one is to be a library, and turns out to he exactl}' the 
size of my library in Phila. It is to have the same carpet. The 
bedrooms are to have the same furuiture as in Phila. I have a 
sweet little room for Lizzie. Since I have been certain of your 
coming, I have made one or two improvements, including a com- 
fortable room for Wharton, and for Henry S , if his mother 

would let him come, at which I sliould be much gratified. — You 
will be greatly pleased with my library. It has nearly doubled 
since you saw it. All the 'Recorder' things come regularly out to 
me, so you will have abundance of light as well as grave reading. 

" So far as teaching is concerned you will have no difiiculty, as 
that is the great staple of the ' Hill.' I have just heard that Mr. 
Granert, the German and French professor, and a graduate of 
Heidelberg, — he teaches piano besides, — will reside here during 
the summer. Tiiere is a capital boys' school, in whicli the vaca- 
tion does not begin until Sept. 20th, and private tutors very cheap. 
What do you think of two hours a day for $8 a month ? 

" Your coming is looked fttrward to with great interest. I think 


it was the settling influence with Elizabeth and probably Eliza. 

As to my man-servant you will find him quite a character. He is 

English, — severely pious, — writes a capital hand, and ponders 

over all sorts of theological books, — but at the same time is 

greatly hipped and pensive. Still he gets through a great deal 

more than !Mrs. 's John, and almost as much as Daddy Henry 

or 'Ca Robin.* He tends the mares, whose frlskiness gives him 

no little trouble, one of them having a way of waltzing round him 

as he leads the other to water, making him look very ridiculous ; 

he makes the beds in my present rooms, trims the lamps, and 

sweeps the rooms with a little shovel not much bigger than a large 

spoon ; he cleans the dishes, for I always liave tea in my i-ooms ; 

acts as deputy sexton in getting the basement ready for the Bible 

class ; drives the carriage ; and is now engaged in hauling ice. 

You can see what an important person he is to be in our future 


" "With a great deal of love to Charles and the children, ever 


"F. W." 

"Gambier, Mch. 24, 1858. 
" My dear Emily : 

" It may amuse vou to glance over a duplicate of an order for 
flowers, etc., which I have just sent for to help make the place look 
cheerful by the time you arrive. They form only a portion of 
what I have ordered, and I think on your arrival you will find 
things just in that condition which will involve all the taste that 
you and Lizzy can spare. Your own room has a porch and 
balustrade in front of it, and looks down directly on the hill- 
side. As for a nursery I have a gi"and one. It is a large and very 
airy room in the third story, and is to be fitted up in the most solid 
of ways — heavy oak bedstead, etc. — I think you will really be de- 
lighted with the place. What do you think of having ice-cream 
every other day ? Among other of Thomas' (our Sancho Panzas) 
accomplishments, he is a great ice-cream freezer. He is now at 
Avork gardening, cutting away branches that intercept the view. 

" I gave my farewell lecture to the Bible Class Sunday evening 

[* Servants of ^Irs. Sinkler's.] 


before last. The spacious chapel, much larger than the Phila. 
lecture rooms, was jammed, and the window-sills and floors were 
occnpied. I hope to fav'or you witli one or two in the summer. 

" We have a new rector and a veiy agreeable one — Mr. Cracraft. 
He is a very striking preacher and an extremely pleasant man. I 
think you will in several respects be agreeably surjirised with the 
condition of things here. 

" With best love ever yr's, 

"F. W." 

"GiLMORE House, Biiltiraore, Dec. 17, ISJ . 

" My dear Emily : 

" I arrived here this morning after a nearly two days and two 
nights journey across the mountains, prolonged by a detention at 
Wheeling which broke the connection. I found a note from 
mother, enclosing one to you, which I forward. G. comes with 
me to the East, and proceeds to Phila. for a day or two on his 
way home. I fear his health is seriously impaired. His symp- 
toms are very distressing, at least to my eyes, and he has agreed to 
take Dr. Pepper's advice before returning to Salem. My fears are 
quite serious of his having permanently broken down. It struck 
me that in case of the doctors recommending him to give up study 
he might visit you at Belvidere. 

" I shall await with much pleasure the arrival of the boys. I 
have concluded to give them ' Fort Tip,' to which I have had a 
chimney and stove added. This they can study in, and can take 
greater liberties there than in the house proper. 

" One thing alone about the boys gives me any anxiety. I am 
willing to be responsible for them at their meals and the nights 
and evenings. As to their games, etc., I know you will relieve me 
on that point. Were they my own children I would desire to put 
them just on the line of Dr. B.'s boys — start them with skates and 
sleds, and let them take their chances, or rather, trust to Providence, 
only insisting that they were in at meals and study hours. My 
fear is unless Charles, A., and yourself take this view, I will keep 
both the boys and myself in a contiiuial fret. 

" Tell A. I am delighted to have Henry. I can manage two 
bovs better than one. 


" If Mr. C. leaves Gambier, as I suppose he will, I apprehend 
Dr. Butler will come. 

" With love to Charles and the children. 

" Ever yours, 

"F. W." 

In the Spring of 1859, a failure of health and some slight 
throat trouble made a change necessary. He took passage in the 
French Steamer Fulton for a trip to Europe, intending to be absent 
six months. Of this trip only a few private letters have been 
preserved, but as he wrote from time to time to the ' Recorder,' we 
have a tolerably full account of his life and impressions there. 
Before we close this chapter, however, a couple of Editorials have 
been taken quite at random from that paper to show the kind of 
matter he was in the habit of furnishing from his own pen, in 
review of matters both in Church and State. If it were desirable, 
a Nolume could be collected from these old files, and it would prove 
doubtless a surjirise to those who are familiar with Dr. "Wharton, 
chiefly as a legal writer to kuoM- how much he has also contributed 
to the controversies of the Epis. Church, and the cause of literature. 


" Some weeks since we adverted to the religious bearings of the 
present Eastern war. We cannot regard its civil bearings as tend- 
ing to an opjjosite result. To a sound mind, indeed, the civil or 
the religious interest of either a people or an individual must 
unite in one point. True Christianity will necessarily generate the 
highest degree of personal freedom consistent with civil govern- 
ment. It will produce, also, to the very extent to which its influ- 
ence is exhibited, the qualities of industry, honesty, fidelity to the 
claims of others, respect for their rights, and tenderness for their 
feelings. Just as far as positive evangelical religion has advanced, 
just so far have the education, the industrial capabilities, the indi- 
vidual liberties, and the national grandeur of a people been advanced. 
And the converse, also, is true. A vigorous and enlightened religion 
cannot survive in a despotism except in the dungeon of the captive, 
or by the stake of the mai-tyr. Government can persecute it, but 
cannot fondle it into power. It wants no state endowments. The 


moment tlie minister is endowed, lie is crippled. To the degree 
that he is aided by civil authority he loses in spiritual influence. 
If we could have now a government which would take up the form 
of religion which we now hold most dear, — which would establish 
it, for instance in Turkey, and woidd provide a sufficient ministe- 
rial salary to every clergyman who should be willing to accept it, 
w^ would advise its rejection. Not that it is not likely that such 
a call would be inoperative. It would have a wondrous effect on 
Church comprehension, and would tend to extend Episcopal orders 
to a class whose numbers, at least, we fear would overtop very 
largely the accessions likely to be produced by the most liberal 
gratuitous system of Church extension that coidd be devised else- 
where. Each stipend would be readily adopted. Episcopal orders 
would be accepted, and the required interpretations of our standards 
professed. We have recently been told of a convert from another 
denomination, — one of that class who leaves because left, — who 
informed the hesitating examiner that he was a Hobart-Griswold 
churchman. In the economy of Divine providence, as it is at 
present exhibited to us, there is always a class of unstable men 
whose capacities are incapable of either definite perceptions or 
energetic action, who will turn the current of their religious-senti- 
mental affections into any ecclesiastical channel, that could lead 
them through the fat meadows of comfort or the composing scenery 
of ]K)lite and respectable mediocrity. And there is a class far more 
capable and far more dangerous than this who will seize an endowed 
ministry with a rapacity as malign as the prize is splendid, and 
who will take a Hildebrand's part in directing that ship in whose 
cushioned cabins repose the elegant sentimentalist and the luxuri- 
ous indifierentist. The consequence is that in a Church-state, — if 
not in a state-Church — two most dangerous elements enter, the one 
of which by controlling the other, too often seizes the helm, and 
ends in turning overboard whatever elements remain that may be 
true to the Gospel system. We have seen this in Rome. AVe see 
it in Russia. And we will see it wherever a compulsory faith is 
attempted to be enforced by a governmental clergy. 

" The objettt being toleration — or in other words freedom of con- 
science to be guaranteed by the state to the individual, — the ques- 
tion next arises by which party in the present European struggle 
will this great sanction be most likely to be secured? And we 


oaunot for a moment hesitate here. The whole Russian system is 
despotic. Education is prohibited — Dissent is prohibited. Even 
the circulation of the Bible is prohibited. On the other hand, all 
the great safeguards of personal and religious liberty which the 
world now knows, take their origin in the British constitution. 
Thence came trial by jury, — freedom of the press, — coui-ts of Jus- 
tice open to the poor, — the right of habeas corpus, — and the right 
to worship God according to conscience. Some blemishes, it is 
true, still remain. The state alliance is an injury to both state and 
ciuirch. The House of Commons is on the one side too imperfect 
a reflection of the people, — moi-e likely as it now stands to be 
influenced by a suppositious public sentiment, expressed through 
the press, or by mob meeting, than by real public sentiment, ex- 
pressed through the ballot-box, — and on the other, it is every day 
less and less held in check by the vetoes, — now almost disused, — ' 
of tlie executive and the senatorial estates. The government of 
England fails now from that want of continuity and of indepen- 
dence which its exposure to the caprices of a single representative 
body gives, and from that want of self-confidence which could be 
strengthened by a more thorough correspondence between the 
peojile and their supposed representatives. It fails, also, because it 
is unwilling to adopt abroad what are its own principles at home, 
and to make that which is a matter of domestic principle a matter 
of foreign policy. It fails because it is trying to turn tiiat which 
must be a war of opinions, into a war of interests, and to postpone 
that great issue which it provokes and yet shrinks from when it 
comes near. But the issue must come. The alliance of the libera- 
tor must be with the oppressetl and not with the oppressor, — the 
alliance of the grand old spirit of the common law, of the Pro- 
testant FAITH, — of the Anglo-Saxon blood, — must be with 
the prisoners of the Vatican and not its jailor — with the people of 
Hungary and not their tyrants, — with Poland, and not with those 
by whom Poland is crushed. Come then that day : and come 
when it may, it will be found that centuries will recede, and pure 
Christianity will again be seen entering the straits of the Dar- 
denelles, and lifting up its hymns on those hills from which it was 
driven because it ceased to be free, and which only when free again 
can it again conquer." 

78 MEMOm OF 

"The Catholic Work of the Protestant Episcopal Church in 
America. A Contribution to the Cause of the Memorial. By 
A Presbyter. Nl'w York : Printed by K. Craighead, 63 Vesey St., 1855 

" ' Better Known, More Loved' is a saying that was very touch- 
ingly illustrated by a sketch given by us in our paper of last week 
of the attendance by the bed-side of a dying Scotch Fusileer, — a 
Covenanter, of a Romish sister of charity. Propinquity, it has 
been said, makes love, and it is equally true that acquaintance 
kindles charity. There may be some who will read these lines, 
■who will recollect an incident in the life of one of our most 
venerated Bishops, which develops this very forcibly. He had 
nourished a prejudice against ' Calvinism,' — a system which he 
had been unconsciously preaching for a long ministerial life with- 
out knowing it, — which had led him to look with some reserve 
upon a most eminent and eloquent clergyman of another diocese 
who was suspected of leaning to that phase of doctrine. It so 
happened that a revival of religion occurred in their common 
neighborhood, in the midst of which the two — the Anti-Calvinistic 
Bishop, and the Calvinistic Presbyter, — were thrown together. It 
was the lot of the latter to preach, and in so doing he developed 
as he supposed, his own earnest and positive system of faith with 
all his peculiar eloquence and fervor. It was the lot of the aged 
Bishop to close with an address, bringing home, as he was accus- 
tomed to do with such wonderful felicity and pathos, the truths 
which the sermon had developed. He did so in the present case 
with an unction and beauty which showed how entirely the notes 
which had been struck awakened a response in his own heart. 
And then when the services were over, he grasped by the hand the 
preacher, from whom he had so long been alienated, at least in 
name, — and exclaimed, ' My brother, we believe in the same !' 

" It is just this exclamation we feel ready to address now to man}- 
with whose earnest and loving hearts Dr. Muhlenberg's great 
movement has brought us in contact. Equally with us they are 
warmed with a true and earnest love to our own dear Church. 
Equally ^^•ith us they feel that by lier must be chiefly eifected the 
great work of bringing the Gospel in contact with the Anglo-Saxon 
people. And yet equally with us, they feel that she is to serve as 
a Mother, as well as to reign as a Queen — that she must be taught 


how to enter the hovels as well as to preside in the Court — and 
that to be properly loved she should be brought home to tlie heart 
of ever)- man, so that the heart of every man can be brought home 
to her. Our Liturgy, when Cathedralized, is like, — if we can 
borrow an illustration we have used in another connection, — the 
Vicar of Wakefield's family picture that, when the young ladies 
become somewhat ambitious, it was determined to have encased 
with a large gilt frame as big again as itself. It was found, how- 
ever, that the picture, which formerly readily found its way to the 
mantle-piece, now could not get through the door. It was but a 
cottage door it is true, for had it been the door of the rich or 
suj)erb, the picture-frame and all could have easily got in. But 
thougli a cottage door, it was a door such as that through which 
alone three-fourths of our population pass. And it is the cottage 
door of the world that the Church must enter ; and it is to the 
dimensions of that cottage door she sliould be reduced. AVe would 
keep on her gilt frame for Cathedral service, but we certainly would 
not cut off those to whom Cathedrals are inaccessible, or stated 
services are as yet unfamiliar, from the benefits of our Apostolic 
ministry and of the ultimate use of that Prayer Book which is 
the iirst of all uninspired volumes, and next to the Bible and a 
preached Gospel, the greatest instrumentality we possess for the 
conversion of the world. It is to prevent such an alienation, — to 
reconcile the Masses to the Church and the Church to the Masses, 
— that the present writer as well as ourselves are now making 
common cause. 

" The stand-point from M"hich the author views the subject of dis- 
cussion is that of a vigorous though genial High-Churchmanship 
of the Hobart grade. In what way the present condition of our 
communion exhibits itself to such a mind is vividly told in the 
following passage : 

" ' That worship which we hold dear is an exotic, transplanted 
from English soil, but never thoroughly grafted into the wild stock 
of American character. But if any Christian faith gain a national 
power, it must have a national growth ; it must so far admit the 
action of a living principle as to give it a proper adaptation to 
American needs ; and to this end it must in its early stages, amidst 
a population wholly indifferent to the forms of England, or Rome, 
or any other, fall back as far as possible on essentials, and make 


its methods flexible. We can as soon build a York Minster, in a 
western clearing, as make the mass of American society accept a 
finished Anglican woi'ship. There should be, first, an adaptation 
of the ministry to the people. A settled parochial clergy must be, 
of couree, the chief reliance ; but there should be, besides these, 
an order fitted by a proper culture to minister to the multitude, not 
trained in the church system. It is wanted directly around us for 
labor in half organized parishes, or among the ignorant and poor 
who cannot be now reached. It is wanted for missionary work ; 
and when we say tiiis we do not mean, as too many imagine, some 
little suburban province of church action. For a century to come 
our main labor in this continent is emphatically of the missionary 
character ; our country is the valley of the West, and the broad 
fields now opening before us to the Pacific. Sucli a class may be 
created without detriment to learning or regular order ; and to 
suppose otherwise is as absurd as to say that an army is spoiled by 
the organization of a corps of liglit infantry. Vt^e want both a 
highly educated clergy and a clergy for tlie people ; and insteatl of 
lowering the standard we exalt it by a right division of labor. Its 
influence will be a living one to carry the church into the heart 
of society. Thus Wesley preached and began a work which the 
Mother Church, in her cold narrowness, would not appreciate, but 
hardened her heart against him, and forced thousands who might 
have been loving children into sej)aratists. But, next, there should 
be an adaptation of worship to the same necessity. The very 
notion of one rigid ritual for every class, drilled in its use from 
infancy, or utterly unaccustomed to it, is an absurdity. Such 
modifications should be, and may be, consistent with the keeping 
always of the essential features of the Liturgy, with soberness and 
good tase ; the self-same service will remain for the trained Church- 
man ; but the vast class without the churcii, from whom she must 
have her recruits, should see and hear her in her Catholicity. She 
must show her willingness and capacity to meet their wants, to use 
every mode consistent with essential unity ; she must make manifest 
her living, active, and generous spirit.' 

" A very just tribute is then paid to our germinal powers as com- 
pared witli those of the less perfect communions about us. It is 
said at the same time, witli great truth : 

" ' Instead of a Church Catholic it is not to be mistaken that we 


are in jiosition a sect. It is true that we are among the most re- 
spectable of Christian bodies in education, refinement, wealth, and 
pietv. Our growth has been considerable ; our moderate doctrines 
free from theological heat ; our broad communion ; our attractive 
ritual, Protestant, yet without the bareness of New England wor- 
ship ; our dignified and sober character ; our conservative tone 
amidst the whirl of religious and social reforms, have given us great 
influence. But our growth has been and is of a special character, 
mainly by accession from radical bodies of men, affrighted by 
the influx of unchecked opinion or wild piety ; men of conservative 
feelings and good taste. This is all well, and to a certain degree 
may be said to show the influence of the truths we possess over 
one-sided sectarianism. But in another and much more frequent 
sense we have won those who care not a rush for the church, but 
who find in her liturgy and sober ways a comfortable refuge. It 
is for them a pleasant Hotel des Iinrilidcs. Our system does not 
reacii the of tlie American middle class. Vi'e do not mean, 
of course, that it excludes them altogether, but that a comparatively 
small portion of them enter its communion. Methodist and Bap- 
tist take hold of such classes, but we do not. Can the fact be 
denied ? We challenge tlic proofs ; we challenge any to go through 
the parishes of our communion in city and country, and reckon 
the proportion. \Miere we have become a church for such classes, 
it is because certain new featui-es, the first fruits of the harvest 
which we would more fully reap, e. g. the free-church system, have 
been introduced. To the vast multitude of the peoi)le we are a 
church of England not of America ; an exotic, not an indigenous 
and native Christianity ; a church of rigid and foreign ceremonies. 
But even if it be allowed that our influence is equal to that of the 
sects about us, which we by no means grant, the very allowance 
is the most feeble argument. If we be a Catholic church we should 
not be content with this ; we sliould ' do more than others ;' we 
should meet every class. As it is we stand virtually on the same 
platform with the Presbyterian, a Church for the upper ranks ; 
wealthy, decent, with our peculiar, exclusive distinctions, not 
Catholic attractions ; a little less rigid than they in theology and 
social habits, a little more so in worship ; in fact, held by the world 
as in a kind of unstable equilil)rium betMeen Calvinist and Unita- 
rian. There are enough who talk of ' the church,' but to call it 


SO in anv practical sense, as having such a position or influence 
over American character, is simply absurd. Even in comparison 
with Eome we have far less practical efficiency ; her system acts 
with a vigor we cannot have on tlie poor and half educated, and 
men begin to fear that she may be ' the church' of America while 
they have no fear whatever about us. Here indeed in the east and 
middle states we do not so fully feel the want, since our long estab- 
lishment, our M-ealth and social resources, satisfy lis ; but in the 
valley of the west and the larger part of our vast continent it is a 
patent fact. It is very easy for our complacent churchmen to shut 
tlieir eyes, and say, ' we are going on very fairly as we are ; we 
need nothing better.' The signs of the times cannot be mistaken ; 
the Memorial does not fabricate, but speaks a profound conviction 
of many of every party ; the movements in Convention for a new 
order of deacons, the confessed dearth of clergy, the demand for 
special missionary work, are proofs that the need exists and is felt. 
It cannot be laughed down, or frowned down, or put out of sight 
by any who, like the old Aristotelian, will not look into the tele- 
scope for fear he may see." 

The following passages sum up the practical views taken by our 
author : 

" Two objects embrace the whole, the creation of a clerical order 
for extra-parochial and missionary work, and the allowance of a 
greater variety in our worship. This may be accomplished by an 
increase of forms of service of more stately harmonics for solemn 
seasons, of simpler modes for simpler uses. Or it may be done by 
tiie admission of a power, duly limited, of preaching tiie word and 
ministering the sacraments with less rigid enforcement of the rubric. 
These modifications will not break down the barriers of order. No 
material changes need be made in the ordinary service of our 
parishes ; and in every case, while greater freedom is allowed for 
special occasions, we should preserve the essential features of our 
liturgy, e. g. the creeds, the absolution, the Lord's prayer, the neces- 
sary formulae of the baptismal and eucharistic offices. Psalter, 
lessons, and collects may be left open for selection. Very far are 
we from those who would surrender our worship for random ex- 
temporizing ; we want a well regulated liberty. There will be 
those who doubt the practicability of some plans projiosed by certain 
of the Memorialists, as the admission of ministers from the Christian 


bodies around us to orders with but few liturgical restrictioas. Such 
a scheme may, indeed, have a wrong as well as a right side ; yet 
we can conceive no difficulty in making such restrictions, though 
few, sufficient to preserve the faith and principles of the church. 
Certainly at present our episcopate has more the aspect of a denomi- 
national peculiarity than a Catholic institution ; and we shall do 
well to consider in what practical way we may restore its Catholic 
function. But wliatever our opinion of this or that particular, we 
mav surely, if we desire heartily some improvement, find some way 
to accomplish it. It wei'e poor evidence of our wisdom, if, for 
doubt of any individual scheme, we give up altogether, all aim after 
better things. There is ground enougli to unite on if there be the 
spirit of unity. It is this we wish to awaken, this common feeling 
of the want, confident that it will overcome every seeming hind- 
rance ; and to this end we have written. "We have therefore sought 
to place the movement on its right ground ; to prove that it is no 
radical effiDrt but a sound one to uphold the church. That claim 
we urge, not on the plea of worldly expediency ; God forbid that 
we prostitute His cause to the base level of modern competition ! 
but as a wisdom based on truth and justice. We affirm it false to 
the divine character of the church to stand before the world in any 
other than this Catholic position ; we deny emphatically our right 
to enforce on every man, as the essential condition of entering our 
communion, conformity to our whole prescribed ritual. It matters 
not if it approve itself to a cultivated taste ; it matters not if men 
should accejjt it for e.?sentials although they love not its secondary 
forms. The church cannot compel assent, but she does so virtually, 
so far as lies in her power, by imposing on all alike these restric- 
tions. Her duty is to provide largely for all. We do not speak 
here as reformers, but as churchmen to churchmen. If we be a 
sect, if we want only a sectarian system for a class of certain tastes 
and habits, we are justified. The Presbyterian is right in demand- 
ing subscription to his catechisna aud covenant; the Baptist is right 
in enforcing immersion and close communion ; for each is and 
claims to be only a sect. If we be like them we may follow them, 
but if we be a bi-anch of the church Catholic, we must show our 

We must now close, but not without returning our thanks to the 
very able writer for the capable style aud generous spirit in which 


he has dealt with this great question. Aud we can have at least 
the consolation that if the memorial does not extend the boundaries 
of our communion, it will bind in closer imion elements in her very 
heart which are not the least earnest and efficient in her composition. 


Dr. Johnson said that the best rule was never to be solitary when 
idle, or idle when solitary. A late writer very hapjiily gives another 
phase of this same truth, when he says, " Solitary thought corrodes 
the mind, if it be not blended with social activity ; and social 
activity produces a restless craving for excitement, if it be not 
blended with solitary thought." 


For the minister to say, " You have no right to private judg- 
ment yourself, therefore form the private judgment that the ChurcJi 
is the infallible judge, and surrender to it your conscience," is the 
same as for tiie Sexton to say to the corpse, " My dear friend, you 
are entirely dead, so jump into the grave and kill yourself." If 
the man is dead, he cannot bury himself — if he can bury himself 
he is alive. If he has no power of forming an opinion, his sub- 
mission to the church is a nullity; if he has the power of submis- 
sion to the church, he has the right of private judgment. The 
advocate for "church principles," first states an untruth, then 
admits it to be so, and then advises a spiritual felo-de-se. 


You cannot recollect the differences of old days. Then, intole- 
rance was social rather than theological, — now it is theological rather 
than social. Then the evangelical man was tolerable as a church- 
man, but not as a man ; now he is tolerable as a man but not as a 


You, — I mean parents, teachers as well as preachers — make a 
great mistake in presenting reproof by pressure instead of by punc- 
ture. Truth may be shot into the system through a pin hole, but 
it cannot be forced into it even by the weight of a mill-stone — 
Martial's famous couplet I think bears here : — 

" An epigram is like a bee, a thing < 

Of little size, with honey and a sting." 



Ladv Blessiugton, herself one of the most domoraliziug and 
demoralized of this world's votaries, gives us the following as one 
of the golden rules of the religion of which she was a prime 
minister : 

" Be prosperous and hapjn', never require our services, and we 
will remain your friends. — This is not what society says, but it is 
the principle on which it acts." 

Now see the contrast in our Gospel : 

" Blessed be God, evex the Father of our Lord .Je-sus 
Christ, the Father of mercies, axd the God of all 



Consider that if we repent each night for each day's sins, when 
the ni2,ht of death comes, we will have but one day's sins to 
repent of. 


We are glad to be able to state that among a number of commu- 
nications received by us on the subject of Dr. Muhlenberg's pam- 
phlet, and the positions assumed by us in respect thereto, there has 
not as yet been one which dissents from the general views we have 
expressed on this important issue. And without pretending to 
speak for that portion of the " High" Church jiarty (and we are 
glad to say that it forms no inconsiderable fraction, either as to 
numbers or weight), which agrees with the main features of the 
memorial, we feel authorized to say that among our clergy and 
laitv south of the Hudson who fall under the name of evangelical 
there is almost an entire unanimity in the belief that the agitation 
of the subject in the shape proposed is in itself a great benefit to 
the Church for which she is peculiai-ly indebted to the noble and 
unselfish s])irit of Dr. Muhlenberg himself, and of those who have 
acted with him. 80 far as concerns the liberty asked for in his 
exposition, the opinion is equally decided that it should be granted, 
if not by the repeal of those rubrics which stand in the way, at 


least by the general recognition of the principle that they are only 
obligatory in the performance of public worship in organized con- 
gregations on Sunday on occasions of morning and afternoon ser- 
vice. With regard to the legislation suggested by Dr. Mulilenberg, 
and particularly with regard to his views as to the consolidation of 
the discretionary power of dispensation in the Bishops instead of its 
dispersion among the parochial clergy, we are at liberty to speak in 
less decisive terms, and we would feel more difficulty still in con- 
nection with the views of the much honored autiior on the subject 
of the communication of our peculiar orders to other Protestant 
communions upon the terms he suggests. But these are in truth 
extraneous to the main point at issue, and as to that point we have 
no manner of hesitation. Our Church, to penetrate the inland, — to 
reach this village on the mountain side, or that valley whose dis- 
persed population have to be first broken to the preaching of the 
Gospel by a process analogous to that of the Sunday school, — must 
reduce her service so as to enable her to ascend channels whose very 
first bar she would be unable to surmount in her full liturgical 
armament. We have already noticed as au illustration of the 
absurdity of this course the exploits of the late (English) explor- 
ing African expedition which, after having at great expense 
equipped a squadron to ascend the great inland rivere of that bar- 
barous country, found themselves obliged to sail back again, when 
they had scarcely passed the seaboard, because they had neglected to 
carry with them smaller craft which would be able to surmount 
shoals which the heavy armed and gallantly equipped ships were 
unable to pass. We are doing just the same thing. Undoubtedly 
it is a spectacle of great sublimity to see our Church with all her 
sails set in the full jiomp and grandeur of her liturgical apparel, 
bearing it away on a free sea, and in the glory of the morning sun. 
— We will join with Dr. Berriau in all his expressions of admira- 
tion at this ; and we will go beyond him in our earnest aspirations 
that that noble flag, — with the cross WTOught into it by martyrs' 
and confessors' hands, — may be carried further and still further, 
bravely and still more bravely, till the remotest heathen coast has 
acknowledged its presence and felt its blessing. But we must 
protest against regarding tiiat gallant gospel ship as a mere piece 
of pageantry, and in considering that religion consists in keeping 
her at home in her full holiday trapjiings, and then taking out the 


rest in voluble though inert admiration of her inglorious splendor. 
And we must protest also against such an impossibility as attempt- 
ing to ascend our mountain streams or navigate our inland rivers 
with such an equipment and in such a style as this. OuE Chuech, 
— and it is worth while to notice it, — has with a very few ex- 
ceptions, Ohio being the chief one, no self-suppoeting 
show this. And if we examine the exception, with any careful- 
ness, we will find that they fall within two classes, — (1.) Where 
there is a congregation of ready-made Episcopalians emigratetl 
from the East, (2.) where the minister adopting the common law 
iuterijretation rather than the statutory text, adapts our service to 
the people as the only means of adapting the peoi^le to our service. 
It is just for this right we contend. As a matter of taste it is 
more than likely that we would agree with our eastern co-tempora- 
ries in desiring that the service as performed in our city congrega- 
tions at present, should continue in future to be performed, with 
the exception, perhaps, of the change incident to a revision of the 
lessons, and the option to the minister to begin on Communion 
Sundays with the Litany or the Ante-Communion service. But 
with regard to missionary Agencies, and to informal services even 
in our thickly settled parishes, we believe that the present supposed 
rubrical restrictions should be broken down, and that there should 
be that full liberty allowed which is refused by no Church in 
Christendom but our own. And we believe that we do not speak 
without warrant when we say that these views are concurred in by 
the entire body of that portion of our communion, — at least south 
and west of the Hudson, — with which we have been for so many 
years identified. 


Messrs. Editopj^ : — We cannot but express most warmly our 
pleasure at your noble stand on behalf of our English brethren now 
fighting for the right before the walls of Sebastopol. But why do 
vou stop here ? Have you not a %vord to say in behalf of JMiss 
Nightingale, Miss Sellon, and those other true-hearted ladies who 
are now in the same camp, exposed to equal dangers (of climate, 
infections, etc.), visiting the sick ? I speak only for many M'hen I 


say that so noble an example has fired many a heart among their 

American countrywomen with a desire to share with those sisters 

of mercy their cross by the stormy Crimea, and then take part in 

their heavenly crown. 

A^ery respectfully yours, 

A E. 

[We are glad to hear that A e and those with whom she has 

conferred are " fired" with so good a purpose. There is no reason 
why the motive power of enthusiasm should be surrendered entirely 
to the world. Tliere is no reason why a Christian should stand 
shivering at the brink of a rivulet over which lies a little skimmed 
ice, M'hen the man of business or the man of pleasure, to get at his 
object, will construct an ice-boat that will hew through a frozen 

river. We are glad, therefore, that A e has enthusiasm enough 

to desire to go to Sebastopol. But we will tell her a secret. She 
is mistaken in her geograpliy. Sebastopol, — at least our Sebastopol, 
— is not " by the stormy Crimea." The fact is that there are more 
than one Sebastopol in existence, two or three of which are in our 
immediate reach ; and in order to give our correspondent and her 
friends as little trouble as possible in finding them, we will give 
them the following sketches by which they will not fiiil to identify 
the Sebastopols to which we refer : 

A. There is a large house by the side of a ri^er; with a white 
palace-like front, very much like the President's house at W'ashing- 
ton, where an army of the sick and wretched are collected. Bands 
of pious women and men are organized under the Union Benevo- 
lent Society to visit and succor these. If A e would find this 

Sebastopol difficult of access, — and we do not recommend it to 
all, — clothing or money or stores will be thankfully received and 
faithfully appropriated by that excellent institution. 

B. Near the juncture of the Reading Rail Road and Front 
Street, in Philadelphia, in an old-fashioned country-seat-looking 
white building, — for it was once a country-seat in reality, — is a 
hospital where in the course of a year one thousand of the sick 
are relieved by out-door attendance, and hundreds are admitted 
to beds to be faithfully and kindly treated until recovery or death 
relieves them. This Sebastopol can be particularly recommended 
to A e and her frieuds, because — 1st, donations of books and 


carraents are here particularly valuable and most needed ; 2d, 
visits of mercy and tenderness to the female wards can be organ- 
ized under the Bishop and Chaplain with peculiar ease and deli- 
cacy ; and 3d, the institution has extraordinary claims to such 
attention from the fact that it is the only hospital in our city 
■where Protestant Eeligious Services are secured, and is at the 
same time the only hospital at all which is conveniently accessible 
to a population of at least one hundred thousand souls. 

C. We come last to a multitude of Sebastopols still more easy 

of access. A e and her associates, in order to find them, have 

only to go Jwme. And here indeed we would particularly recom- 
mend those who would follow ]\Iiss Nightingale and Miss Sellon 
to go. It is true that there are cases where hearths have been so 
dismantled and made desolate by the storms of atfliction that there 
is no home left. The discolored and decaying leaves that mat the 
damp earth may be all that remains to tell of the luxuriant foliage 
that once sheltered from the summer's sun as well as gave beauty 
and home-feeling to the scene. Death or misfortune or that disen- 
tangling hand which so often unravels the web of relationship, 
dividing those who once sat around the same hearth by hundreds 
of miles, may have come to throw the eye outward, and to make 
it seek occupation and find duty elsewhere. In such cases God 
himself leads the way to such objects as we have noticed, and 
though that way is sharp and rugged, — blasted out, as it were, 
from the solid rock by His Divine wrath, — yet is easily found. 
But home is more frequently within reach of us all — a spot where 
we can exert ourselves either to do or suffer for the good of others. 

"The common round, the daily task 
Shouhl give us all we ought to ask, 
Room to deny ourselves the road, 
To lead us daily on to God."] 





" Steamship ' FuLTOx,' 
July 1st, 1859. 

" My dear Mother : 

" I am taking a moment (if calm to write you a few lines which 
will be mailed from Havre. After leaving you in Philadelphia I 
had a very pleasant journey to New York. I drove at once to the 
Anthons, whom I found very kind. They were all at home, and 
I spent all that evening with them in cheerful talk about old times. 
I was very sorry that I could not get up to see the Stoutenbergs, 
and that I had not time to visit Sarah. But I was kept all Friday 
in arranging business matters, about passports, etc., and on Satur- 
day I had only time to write a few business letters, and get down 
to the steamship. 

" Twelve o'clock was our hour for starting, and sometime before 
that hour the passengers were collected. I found Mrs. McEuen 
and Miss Ashhurst with two or three of the Ashhurst boys. The 
only other Philadelphians were Mrs. Dana, a very intelligent 
woman with a great deal of cultivation, her son, a boy of fifteen 
or sixteen, and George Biddle, with another Philadelphia lawyer, 
Mr. Junkin. There are about one hundred and fifty passengers 
on board, but they are greatly divided among themselves, forming 
about equal parties of Americans, of Frenchmen, of Germans, and 
of Spaniards. The French and the Germans are anytjiing but 
inclined to fraternize, and this coolness spreads itself among the 
passengers generally. Prominent among the Germans is Karl 
Formes, a great opera-singer and actor, and at the same time an 
enthusiastic German patriot. You have no idea of the vehement 
antagonism of the Germans to the French. Napoleon they look 
upon with perfect detestation. The French gentlemen have taken 
possession of the large room at the stern of the boat, into whit'h the 


Germans, notwitlistandiag their fouduess for cigars, which here are 

the staple, never intrude. On the other hand, when Karl Formes, 

the great singer, sang some of his finest songs yesterday evening, 

veiy few if any of the French attended. 

" I was very fortunate in my state-room. The lower half of it 

was kept, in response to a telegram from Baltimore, but when the 

day came for sailing the applicant did not make his appearance. 

The consequence is that I have had the whole room to myself So 

far the weather is delightful. I must now close, my dear mother. 

AYith much love believe me ever yours, 

"F. W." 

"Berlin, Sfpt. 6, 1859. 

" My dear Emily : 

" I did not arrive here until last night, and did not get your 
letter and Henry's telling me of Kate's illness until this moniing. 
I need not tell you how deeply I felt all you said. My trust and 
hope is that by this time Kate and the boy are quite well. To- 
morrow or next day I expect letters giving me her condition after 
the 11th. I suppose by this time you are back in Pliila., having 
been to Gambler. 

"I am now settled here for a month, and hope to master the 
German language finally. Mr. Griffin has joined me, and we have 
taken rooms where we have all the comforts of a private house. 
In this way hotel expenses ai-e reduced one-half In Dresden you 
can get a suite of furnished rooms, five or six in number, for about 
fifty dollars a month. No one there occupies a whole house, and 
the best families merely rent a suite of rooms. As to education it 
is very low. I had a sort of tutor-secretary who came every 
afternoon and spent three hours with me at a fabulously low rate. 
The table expenses are also much smaller than in Philadelphia. I 
suppose this is the reason why many American and English fami- 
lies come here to live. I am sure of one thing, that people can live 
in a refined way, — up to the average of refined people at home, — 
cheaper here than in America. Thus I think that $1200 a year 
would go much farther here in keeping up appearances. But for 
comfort, I do not think they come up to the way we live. And I 
think §3000 or |4000 a year i)urchases really more in America 
than in Europe. Then again Gambier is much cheaper in the 


price of provisions thau even Munich. I have no doubt, however, 
that Dresden is a far more economical place than Paris. 

" I have written so often to Gambier and Philadelphia tliat I 
now feel almost like resting a little "while. I have had a letter 
from Bisliop Bedell saying that he accepts my offer to make my 
house his home between November and January. 

" I write with great haste to save the steamer and remain ever yrs. 

"F. W." 


"Berlin, Sept. 18, 1859. 
" My dear Emily : 

..." I shall stay here — decidedly the most agreeable place I 
have yet visited — until about October 10th. Then I go to Italy 
again, then to Paris, and wind up in England. i\Iy passage I siiall 
take in the 'Arago' for Dec. 13. 

" I expect to bring Lizzie over some very good music. There is 
u young man here, an American, one of the most splendid per- 
formers in Berlin, who is going to make the selection for me. I 
am very glad the boys are going to spend the winter with me. 

" Mr. Griffin is with me, and has entirely recovered. For 
myself, I have not had a headache worth speaking of since I sailed. 

" My own belief is, that if you mean to visit Europe for the chil- 
dren's sake, there is but one place and that is Dresden. Switzer- 
land is as dear as Paris, and Paris is one big cheat and falsehood. 
But here and at Dresden educational facilities are great, and every- 
thing is astonishingly cheap. Let me tell you of my yesterday's 
dinner, premising that the cooking is delightful. 

' Soup ...... 2 cents. 

Roast mutton and potatoes . . 6 " 

Mushrooms . . . . . 3 " 

Partridge . . . . . 8 " 

Pudding (very good) . . . 4 " 

Compote . . . . . 3 " 

Total 24 cents.' 

"Your dinner varies in this way from ten to thirty cents, and 
you can take either of the dishes singly. 

" I can write but little now, for I am immersed in work, getting 
material for my book, etc. So, with love to Charles and the chil- 
dren, I am ever yr's, 

"F. W." 



"Belfast, Oct. 11, 1859. 
" My Deai. Mother : 

. ..." I have been spending a few days in the north and middle 
of Scotland, where I have met with the warmest and kindest recep- 
tion. I have had numerons invitations from literary and religious 
quarters. On Saturday last I lectured at Glasgow (the largest city 
in Scotland) to a large audience of young men. The 'revival' 
among the Scotch is very remarkable, and whole villages are pros- 
trated with a sense of sin. Half a dozen daily prayer-meetings 
are held in Glasgow. Mr. Hindt, the Episcopal minister there, 
told me that while he was preaching twenty or thirty persons would 
be ' struck down,' that is to say, would fall senseless, or almost 
senseless, on the floor. In many instances these signs would be 
followed by solid conversions. He discourages these bodily mani- 
fe.stations very much, and has succeeded in almost entirely repress- 
ing the physical excitement. The crowd at his church, however, 
is immense. I was there last Sunday evening, and had to go an 
hour before hand, in order to get a seat. There was only one 
case of prostration, and that not very distressing. But here in 
Ireland things are in an extraordinary condition. In one little 
village near here ten tavern-keepers have been obliged to give up 
from the want of custom. This great city seems really overawed 
with religious feeling. To be sure there are very extraordinary 
religious accidents. But notwithstanding these, the Protestant 
Bishop, and a large body of his clergy, have given in their adhesion 
to the revival meetings. I hope to remain here a few days and 
understand the .state of things more fully. After that, I go to 
England, D. V., and then to Italy. I am preparing a little book 

of curiosities for you which I really think you will relish 

" Ever yours, affectionately, 

"F. W." 


" Havre, Oct. 25, 1859. 
" My Dear Emily : 

"I am writing a few lines in this place, where I am waiting for 
the train. I left England last night, having spent a most pleasant 
fortnight there, and you can form little idea of the real kindness I 


met with. I have written to mother to say iu general how much 
hospitality I received. Let me describe a day at Oxford, one at 
Cambridge, and one at London. Take my first day at Oxford. 
First, old Dr. McBride, the principal of Magdalen Hall, and one 
of the most distinguished men in the University, took me to see all 
the leading sights. Then I lunched with I\Ir. Litton, the author 
of the book on the Church, and quite a leading thinker. Then I 
dined at Mr. Golightly's, where I met a number of distinguished 
people. The next day Mr. Mansel (I suppose the greatest English 
luetaphysicmn living) fairly took me to live witli him, and I was 
perched up, in the afternoon, in one of the Chapel stalls, among all 
the dignitaries, in the exquisitely ecolesiological and antiphonal 
chapel of St. Magdalen. — Then for Cambridge. The afternoon 
I arrived there I was ' dined' and then ' wined' by the fellows of 
Cains College. Next morning I was breakfasted by Mr. Clayton, 
Simeon's successor. That evening I left for London, where I found 
the same kindness. Thus on Saturday I paid a very agreeable 
visit to the Archbishop of Canterbury at his country-seat, who 
gave me a volume just published by him, with his autograph 
inside. I then dined with a Mr. "Walker at a very beautiful park 
in the same neighborhood, and spent the night with Mr. Silver, 
who has another place near by. I ought not to forget that I 
lunched and spent the greater part of Friday v.\t\\ Miss Marsh, the 

" I have just taken my passage in the ' Arago.' I am delighted 
at the prospect of paying a quiet visit to Mary at St. Germaius, 
from Nov. 25th to Dec. 12th, and then of returning home. I am 
excessively weary of travelling, and what makes it Morse, my head- 
aches have returned. I wish I did not have to make this Italian 
journey ; but it seems absurd to be in Europe without going to 
Rome, and so I hurry on. 

" I have not heard from you since you left Gambler, though 
Joe, Tip, Hamilton, and Old have all written to me. I sympathize 
deeply with poor Charlie in his being obliged to sit in the baggage- 
car on his way to ISIansfield, and trust that he is now fairly rid of 
this ostracizing complaint. 

" I am sorry to say Mr. Dallas, who has been very kind to me, 
thinks that the relations between England and America are very 
precarious. Lord Palmerston, it seems, has hurried off a fleet of 


steam-frigates to St. Juan. His colleagues, however, hold him iu 
check, and it is questionable whether he can carry a majority of 
them into any measures which will necessitate a collision. Mr. 
Dallas says that Lord Palmerston personally is very irritating 
towards America — very different from his conservative predecessors, 
who were very paeific and conciliatory. 

" The preaching of the English Church is, I think, above the 
average of ours. Their sermons appear more effective, chiefly be- 
cause they do not use notes. I must stop now. 

" With love, ever y'rs, 

"i\ W." 


"London, July 24, 1859. _ 

" A very significant debate took place in the House of Commons 
on the 13th instant. A Mr. Grieve, a Scotch Episcojjal clergy- 
man, petitioned for a private Act of Parliament to authorize him 
tt> officiate in the established Church of England. It Mas admitted 
that by the law as it stood, Scotch Episcopal orders did not enable 
parties receiving them to hold Anglican preferments. It was urged, 
however, that there were many precedents of private enabling acts 
such as the present. It was pretty soon seen, however, that the 
question was largely affected by doctrinal sympathies. For the bill 
were arrayed the Puseyites and the Nothingarians, against it was 
the entire Protestant interest. I give notes of one or two of the 
speeches : 

" ' Sir A. Agnew complained that in the bill Dr. Skinner was 
designated as Bishop of Aberdeen — an innovation he thought 
highly objectionable. 

" ' Mr. Steuart said the bill was presented to the house under 
extraordinary circumstances. They were called upon, to deal with 
this case through the medium of a private bill, and not to take it 
up as a principle, and seeking to embody it in a general measure. 
It should be borne in mind that Mr. Grieve had fallen under the 
censure of the Bishop of the Diocese in which he had been located. 
He was a Sacramentarian of the most decided views and it was not 
right that he should be permitted to disseminate in England views 
condemned in Scotland. He should move that the bill be read a 
second time that dav three months. 


" ' Mr. S. Estcoiirt said they had passed similar bills, under 
similar circumstances, and it might seem hard upon an individual 
that tliev should suddenly turn round after he had been put to 
considerable expense in bringing his case to that stage, though he 
granted that matters of this sort would be dealt with better by 
general acts of Parliament. If the bill were allowed to pass its 
present stage it might l)e sent before a committee. 

" ' I\Ir. Newdegate said the case stood so that this gentleman 
came before them in connection with the Episcopal Church of 
Scotland, standing condemned in that Church by one of its chief 
authorities, and through this peculiarity ho was induced to come 
before Parliament. He thought it was doubtful whether any of 
these applications should be granted ; the P^piscopal Church of 
Scotland was not an established Church, and its formularies and 
articles were not identical with those of the Church (if England. 
Great difficulties, however, stood in the way of a general measure, 
and the house ought to be very careful in dealing with the question. 

" ' Mr. Bouverie said it was time for them to stop passing these 
bills, which were of an entirely exceptional character. 

" 'Lord J. Manners (Puseyite young England) said that the hon- 
orable member for North Warwickshire (Mr. Xewdegate) seemed 
to think that this gentleman had been censured for some matter of 
doctrine. Now that was not the case. The whole complaint 
against him was that he declined to pronounce an opinion in a case 
in which only one side had been heard. Although there was no 
doubt that the Bishop in question did write the letter of censure, it 
was also true that the same Bishop had afterwards written a letter 
in which he spoke of ]\Ir. Grieve in the highest possible terms. 
The (piestion before the house was whether, upon the statements 
made upon the one side, which were rebutted on the other, they 
were prepared to refuse to an individual who had already incurred 
a large expense in prosecuting his hill before the House of Lorels, 
that license and that liberty which Parliament had assented to in 
numerous instances under precisely analogous circumstances. He 
held that it would be unfair to withhold that relief now which had 
been given in similar cases. He should therefore assent to the 
second reading. 

" ' Mr. Roebuck (Nothingarian) said it struck liim that a fair 
statement of the case had not as vet been made. The member for 


Kilmarnock (Mr. Bouverie) stated that he objectetl to any devia- 
tion from a general law which was a good law. He agreed with 
him in that objection. But what was the fact? There were two 
classes of men before the consideration of this house — first, the 
Catholic priest, and secondly the E})iscopalian clergyman. Now, 
what did they do with the Catholic priest ? They acknowledged 
his ordination the moment one of them called himself a clergyman 
of the Church of England, and be was allowed to take the benefit 
of it. But with the Protestant Episcopalian clergy of Scotland 
thev did no such thing. AVheu an Episcojialian clergyman declared 
himself to be a member of the Church of England he was com- 
pelled to go to the Protestant Bishop to be re-ordained. He 
believed that the real objection to tliis particular gentleman was 
that he was unlike a Catholic priest. This was a law considered 
to be most unfair towai-ds our Protestant Episcopalian brethren of 
Scotland. Being a thorough advocate for the principle of free 
trade in religion, as well as in everything else, he was of opinion 
what was a rule for the Catholic priest ought to be also a rule foi' 
the Protestant Episcopalian of the Church of Scotland. 

" ' Lord Palmerston wished to state in a few words the grounds 
upon which he should give his vote in opposition to this bill. He 
quite concui-red with his right honorable frieud near him that the 
discussion upon the merits of the law as it now stood might be 
fairly remitted to a committee of inquiry into the whole subject — 
namely, whether the present law should or should not be altered or 
in some degree modified. But there was on the general principle 
a great objection to the passing of private bills establishing excep- 
tions to a particular law. Although he regretted that the reverend 
gentleman in question should have been put to such great expense 
in this matter, he nevertheless thought it was time to stop those 
private bills, which seemed to express a censure of the existing law. 
He was of opinion that it might be desirable to a2)point a committee 
to inquire whether the law^ should be altered or not.' 

" The house then divided — 

For the second reading .... 84 

Against it ..... . 23"2 

Majority against the 2d reading 148 

"So it is that even special permission will not be given to a 
Scotch Tractarian to officiate in the Church of England. As to a 


general law permittiug ' free trade' in this respect, the large majority 
above given shows that there is no prospect of such a measure pass- 
ing unless coupled with a provision for a like interchange with the 
other reformed churches. 

" How is it, I may ask, Avith onr American Cluirch in this 
respect ? Did we not act inadvertently in swallowing in a gulp 
the Scotch Episcopal ordei-s? We were then, it is true, in the 
turmoil of our own organic construction ; but this affords no objec- 
tion to our reconsidering the question now that a period of leisure 
has arrived. Independently of this, the validity of the Scotch 
orders is still an open question on which each individual Bishop 
must decide. Those orders, as is well known, were always dis- 
puted by the English Church. Consecration was refused to Bishop 
White, Bishop Provoost, and Bisiiop Madison, until they engaged 
to permit Bishop Seabury (who held tlie Scotcii succession only), 
to join in no consecration of succeeding Bisliops with them, unless 
lie became a mere superfluity from the attendance of three Bishops 
of the Anglican line. This pledge was religiously kept. The con- 
sequence was that Bishop Seabury's orders are no more an integral 
part of our own, than those of ]\Iar Yohannan, a supposed Syrian 
Bishop, who, it may be recollected, flourished in some of our Con- 
ventions and ordinations some years back. If, as is maintained in 
Eno-land, the Scotch orders are iusuflicient from a break in the 
succession, the Scotch clergymen stand on the same footing with 
the INIethodists. Their orders are merely Presbyterian. I see no 
objection to their being admitted to our pulpits, provided they sub- 
scribe to our formularies. But I think that as they cannot be dis- 
tinguished on principle from other ministers of Presbyterian ordi- 
nation, the measure that admits the one should be comprehensive 
enough to admit the other." 


" Even the Louvre does not collect a greater crowd than the 
pictures of Ary Scheffer, now on exhibition in the Boulevard des 
Italiens. To Protestants, in particular, they have claims which tiie 
Romish altar-pieces, at least, do not possess. The latter may be 
idols; the former are comnmitaries. Take as an illusti-ation of 


the former the famous picture of the Conception by Murillo, a 
picture for which the French government paid over §100,000 at 
the sale of Marshal Soult's gallery. I pass the exquisite delicacy 
of this picture, a delicacy made still more refined by the haziness 
— the Indian-summerishness — of atmosphere with which the color- 
ing is invested. But with all this, we cannot rid ourselves of the 
idea of a sort of gross and common idolatry which underlies this 
as well as all other pictures of the class. Angels are hovering 
round the IMadonna, paying to her all sorts of obeisances, while 
the general tone of humility in her lovely countenance is not un- 
mixed with an expression of dramatic condescension. How dif- 
ferent it is -nith Ary Sc-heifer's picture of Mary at the moment 
where Jesus, after the resurrection, 'said unto her, ]\Iary.' The 
face is purely human. It is that of one faint and pale with watch- 
ing and grief. But is also that of one seized with sudden and 
delighted surprise. There is an immediateness about the expression 
that is very extraordinary. In other paintings the faces look as if 
they had looked in the same way for an almost indefinite period 
before. Even iMurillo's virgin seems as if she had regularly com- 
jiosed herself for an audience witli the angels. But here we can 
almost hear the lips, in the ecstasy of sudden recognition, cry, 
' Rabboni, that is to say, master !' It is this naturalness that 
gives to Scheifer's paintings so much of the exegetical character. 
And with but one exception, which I may notice hereafter, the 
tone of this commentary is entii'cly iu accordance with Evangelical 

" With some of Scheifer's pictures I have no doubt that you are 
already acquainted. ' Christus Consolator,' and ' Christus Remu- 
nerator,' have found their way into so many print-shops that they 
have been accepted by not a few of our countrymen as among the 
truest expositions of Christian ethics. 

" These do not appear in the present collection, though we 
scarcely feel their loss when we gaze at the noble body of paintings 
which remain. Prominent among these is Christ tempted iu the 
wilderness, which arrests the eye as you enter the room. The 
conception of Satan, to my mind, is not only very forcible, but 
very new. Two general notions of Satan have run through our 
schools of art. The first is that of Milton, in whicli the fallen 
angel is painted as grand, austere and chivalric, retaining in all his 


fierce and implacable resii^tauee to the Most High, all the attributes 
which we might invoke to grace a human prince who is conquered 
yet not subdued. On the other hand we have tiie Mejjhistopheles 
of Goethe, who is mean, malignant and petty ; and who, instead 
of being as his Miltonic predecessor is, a gentlemanly rebel, is 
guilty of all sorts of small treacheries to men, while innocent of 
any grand scheme of resistance to God. I think that Scheffer's 
Satan is of a distinct and far more sei'iptural type. His nature is 
double. It is not merely the human rebel sublimated to the 
angelic, as with Milton, nor the angelic dwarfed to the lowest 
grade of the human, as with Goethe, but it is the angelic and 
human co-existing, as two parallel natures, like two slides of a magic 
lantern, the two tiirowing together on the canvas their united and 
yet at the same time their distinct images. Thus we have it is true 
the fierce and in one sense unselfisli animosity of the fiend — for it 
is an animosity wiiich an infinitely foreseeing nature must know to 
be bootless — coupled with the weakness of the human. Of the 
latter Scheffer gives us in tliis picture a remarkable trait in the 
expression of passionate entreaty which grows over the face of the 
fallen angel as he makes his last request." 

"negro bishops for AFRICA. 

" You have already noticed Bishoj) Bowen's death. He fell a 
victim, undoubtedly, to a malignant tropical fever which desolates 
the part of Africa in which was his Diocese. His death was not 
unexpected to himself, and scarcely so to the Church. On this a 
Correspondent of the Times makes a very strong apjieal against 
sending forth any more white missionaries to this part of Africa. 
In this the world iieartily concurs. ■ And yet tlie same number of 
the Times contains abundant notices of commercial movements to 
the same climates, each movement, no doubt, abundantly provided 
with white officers. The Christian then, is to withhold those 
sacrifices for the next life, which the man of the world thinks a 
matter of course for this. But what proof do we give of our 
religious convictions if we permit obstacles to hold us back, which 
the worshippers of mammon treat as of no account? 

"F. W." 



"LoxDOX, July 2G, 1859. 

" Fixim Westminster bridge to Surrey Gardens, a distance of 
about two miles, may be seen streaming every Sunday morning a 
procession of thousands who are on their way to the hall where 
Mr. Spurgeon holds service. When there, the scene, to an Ameri- 
can eye, is very striking. The hall itself is situated in a large 
public garden. One hour before the time the several entrances 
are surrounded by a dense crowd. As you come closer, however, 
you observe that the crowd divides ; one-half of it remains outside 
until thirty-five minutes before ten, when the hall is open to the 
public generally. The other half, by the payment of a shilling, 
obtains admission to certain preferred seats, which in fact occupy 
about one-half of the entire building. 

" Let us enter, however, with the former class, at about a quarter 
after ten. The services do not begin until eleven, and yet we find 
at least five thousand people are in their seats. Each minute adds 
hundreds, until at last, when the period arrives for the admission 
of the public generally, the immense edifice, capable of holding 
from eight to ten thousand, is thoroughly crowded. 

" The first view reminds us of Concert Hall, in the city of 
Philadelphia, as it was when occupied by the congregation of the 
Church of the Covenant. So far as concerns the general aspect 
of the building, as well as that of the congregation, there is at 
the first sight no difference. But soon one or two distinguishing 
features unfold themselves.' The room on Surrey Gardens is twice 
the size of that on Chestnut street, and it has three large galleries. 
And besides this there is one noticeable distinction as to manners. 
There is no sujjeriority of rank recognized in the female sex in 
England. In America, we all know that it is enough — I think 
rightly so, supposing a man to be in health sufficient to be able to 
stand through the service — for a woman to sto]) and look at a pew 
full of men, in which case the pew instantly disgorges itself. In 
England the men, in such a case, not only never budge, but appear 
entirely unconcerned. In fact, if there be a discrimination, it is 
ayaind the female sex. ' Is there room for another on your bench?' 
inquired one of the chui'ch officers. ' Not for a lady' was the 
reply, and the only two thuigs that excused it were that it was 


given by a lady herself, and that the present feminine costume in 
England as well as in Amt'rica, takes double tiie ordinary sitting 

" Until the services open the vast congregation waits in almost 
entire silence. It is not, however, a silence of listlessness. At 
least one person in every thi-ee has his Bible, and many are seen 
in diligent study. At last, however, a slight rustle is heard, and 
in a moment the preacher stands in his pulpit. 

" There is no mistaking Mr. Spurgeon by any one who has seen 
his likenesses ; but I must add that at the distance at which I was 
placed from him, which was that of about half the length of the 
hall,-! did not perceive in his features that coarseness which you 
notice in the American prints. If you were to ask to whom in 
America he is most like, I would say, though with much hesitation, 
to Bishop Clark, of Rhode Island, as I have occasit)nally seen the 
latter when speaking fi-om the platform. There is a general, though 
it is true, slight resemblance of complexion and figure, and a more 
striking one in the tone though not in the cadences of the voice. 

" The service opened with a brief though rather mandatory 
prayer, which was followed by the announcement of a hymn. 
' You must sing out,' was the preface, ' we may even shout our 
psalms to the Lord.' The injunction, though given in colloquial 
words, coupled with a sketch of the earnest singing of the great 
meetings now holding in Wales, was uttered simply and impres- 
sively. It was obeyed. Almost every one in that immense con- 
gregation sang. The greater part were provided with books, and 
besides this the hymn was lined. The singing was very fine, 
though I could not but think not more earnest, than what I have 
often heard in the lecture room of dear Gambler. But it had, 
what of course we could not have there, a volume as of many 
waters. The airs were very solemn and yet very catchahle ; unit- 
ing as do so many of our most popular tunes, the Gregorian 
with what some of us might call the Methodist. I need not say 
that tlie effect was very solemnizing. It was a far nearer approach 
to worship with the voice as well as with the heart, than I sup- 
posed j)ossible on the part of so large a congregation. 

" I regret that I cannot speak equally highly of Mr. Sjuirgeon's 
way of reading Scripture. He took the l(5th chapter of Ezekiel, 
and read a few verses, but these were smothered in a heterogeneous 


mass of commentary which was neither very deep nor very shrewd. 
From this he passed to another hymn, then to another prayer, 
which I thought almost as deficient as the first in the supplicatory 
tone, and then came a sermon from the text, Ezekiel xvi. 54. 

" From what I have already said you see that I am by no means 
inclined to give Mr. Spurgeou unqualified admiration. This much, 
however, I must now add, that for the purposes of such a vast 
assembly as he addresses, he is the best sermonizer I have ever 
heard. And having said this much, you will permit one, in view 
of ihe manv in tiur own Church whom I tiiink a similar culture 
might make almost equally as useful, to notice one or two of the 
qualities by which his speaking is marked. What he saj's is extem- 
poraneous, so far as extemporaneousness means a disencumberment 
from the blinders and martingale of a written sermon. But other- 
wise it is not. There is the mark of very careful preparation. 
Underneath lies an analysis, none the less positive from its not 
being technically mapped out. On the whole texture rests a halo 
which leaves the impress of closet prayer as well as of closet study. 
Nor does the preacher hesitate for either words or illustrations. 
As it is in reference to both of these that the greatest excej)tion is 
taken to his preaching, in reference to them I will say one or two 
words in detail. 

" Mr. Sjjurgeon's language is certainly very colloquial, but by 
no means so much so as that of Latimer and Ezekiel Hopkins, 
whom the religious world has always endorsed, and no more so 
than that of Kingsley, whom the literary world has promoted to 
be its special clerical favorite. Take, for instance, the following 
passage which I give from memory and which I select as the 
homeliest in the whole sermon I heard. He is speaking of the 
way in which the world criticises the inconsistent professor of 
religion. He quotes the world as speaking somewhat as follows : 

" ' What do you mean by charging us with pride? Have you 
none ? Your Doctors of Divinity — do they not occasionally sport 
their titles as well as oui- titled men sport theirs f You talk of 
bearing the cross — do yiju bear it except occasionally it be one 
of gold? You talk of tribulation, entering into the kingdom, but 
if you have any it must be in secret. You talk of supercilious- 
ness — are there not among yourselves sisters in satin, who consider 
it a meritorious thing in them to worship on the same bench with 


ail unwashed laborer? You talk of avarice — are there not some 
among you who will make thumb and finger meet on the throat 
of a debtor until they sever his jugular veiu ?' 

" Now had this been written for the press, it might have been 
desirable to translate it into phrases more stately. But the preacher 
meets his fellow men face to face, and it becomes him to use that 
language to which men are accustomed when thus meeting. We 
weary of an attitude which is novel to us, even though that atti- 
tude be one of attention. And besides this, in the use of homely 
language we have the authority of Scripture and the sanction of 
experience. What preacher of our own tongue ever held together 
large crowds of people, who was not homely in his choice of words? 
"The same observation applies, I think, to illustrations and 
metajjhors. Of these Mr. Spurgeon's use is copious aiid has at 
command extraordinary metapiiors; the most insubordinate of allies 
are subjugated and tamed by him with a completeness which is one 
of the most extraordinary of his gifts. He ventured, in the ser- 
mon to wiiich I refer, on a metaphor drawn from the practice of 
the Court of Chancery, of adding from time to time different de- 
fendants by special bill. As the topic was technical, and as I never 
heard of the speaker having had a legal education, I expected every 
moment to see him dismount or be thrown. But it was not so, for 
he kept his control of the metaphor until it answered his purpose, 
which it did perfectly, and then dismissed it. 

" Then with regard to illustrations. He told the following with 
great effect. I give it as one which I tiiink we can all apply to 
ourselves. The object of the sermon, let it be recollected, was to 
show the mischief of inconsistency among Christians : 

" ' A clergvman once preached a very awakening sermon. A 
young man wiio was in the congregation, was much impressed, and 
finding that the clergyman was to walk some distance home, joined 
him, in the hope of having some conversation as to how to be saved. 
The clergyman was walking with several others, and instead of thg 
conversation turning on religious matters, it was light and even 
indecorous. Some years afterwards the clergyman was called to 
see a dying man in an inn. As he entered the room, the dying 
man started. ' Sir,' said he, ' I have heard you preach.' ' Thank 
God for that,' said the clergyman. 'But, Sir,' continued the man, 
' I iiave heard you talk, and your talking has ruined my soul. Yes, 


Sir, do you remember that day when you preached from that text ? 
That sermon brought conviction to my heart. But I sought a 
conversation with you, and I walked home with you, hoping to 
hear something about my soul's peace, but you trifled — trifled — 
trifled! Yes, so you did, and I went home believing that you 
knew all the solemn things you said in the morning were lies. 
For years I was an infidel, but now, now I am dying, I am one 
no longer. But I am not saved — I have hated and now hate, and 
vou did it. I will meet and accuse you before the bar of God.' 
And so the man died.' 

"Now, you ask how was this, and passages equally solemn, 
delivered? I answer, in a toue almost entirely conversational, 
without a single eruption of that rant, by which our extempora- 
neous speakers sometimes break their force. It is true that ^Ir. 
Spurgeon's articulation is perfect, tliat his voice is sweet, clear, 
and strong, and that his cadences are such that not a single word 
is dropped. But I am confident that by adopting the same cou- 
versatioual, simple, earnest manner, even weak voices could be so 
used as to equally enchain the attention. 

" But, after all, I have given but a sketch of the mechanism by 
which Mr. Spurgeon's great jiulpit success is produced. The mov- 
ing power is above this. It is not genius, for to this ilr. Spurgeon 
cannot lay claim. His gifts are certainly much above the average, 
but .still not so much so as to achieve for him distinction inde- 
pendently of the subject matter on which they act. That subject 
matter, which he applies with such tremendous power, is the doc- 
trines of grace as taught in the articles of our own Episcopal 
Church. And I draw from this, that if those doctrines are ex- 
pounded with equal earnestness and simplicity, like results, thougli 
of course in a circle varying with the speaker's intellectual and 
elocutionary powers, will iollow. 

" One word more as to the blemish I have noticed in Mr. Spur- 
geon's services. I am clear that had a short liturgical exercise 
taken the place of at least his main prayer, the eifeet would have 
been more solemn, more devotional, more permanent. Such is the 
usage adopted in the working men's meetings, held in Exeter Hall, 
under the direction of the Bishop of London. Of one of these 
meetings — the most impressive service I think I have ever attended 
— I will speak in another lettei'. 


"ZuRicn, July 28, 18.j9. 

"I am now almost in the centre of the diplomatic vortex by 
which the politics of Europe are convulsed. The peace congress 
meets here next week. Already some of its outriders have arrived. 
On looking over the names registered in the very noble hotel where 
I am writing — the Hotel Banr Sur Lac — I see at least one name 
distinguished in former dii)lomatie contests. It is that of a Russian 
princess, who, having had a good deal to do with the pacification 
of Vienne, now is ready to take a hand at that of Zurich. And 
let me remark that those who charge feminine strong-mindedness 
with being an American innovation, should be reminded that it is 
an European institution. — The peace treaty which settled the origi- 
nal boundaries of Holland, after the establishment of her freedom, 
was negotiated l)y \\omen, and was called thence the ' Ladies' peace. 
That which restored Francis I., after the battle of Pavia, was nego- 
tiated in the same way. Charles V. employed his sisters and his 
daugiiters in his most important offices. And now, as in 1820, 
ladies stand behind the nominal leaders, often directing their moves. 

" Then as to the peace itself Writing as I now do for your 
columns, I do not feel at lil)erty to view it politically, but this 
nuicli I may say in passing, that I still think that the preliminaries 
are a move in advance. It is true that Italy is in a ferment of 
irritation. It is true, also, that in England, those who were the 
bitterest in charging the French Emperor with rapacity in going to 
war, are now twitting him with his greenness in making so mode- 
rate a peace. It is true tiiat deeper than this there lies a feeling of 
profound disquiet in tiie English breast, as to what may be the 
next move of this mysterious potentate, who has now obtained the 
control of the camp as well as the councils of Europe. For myself 
I have another impression, and that is that the vice of the peace is 
the perfidy that uuderlic^s it, not to governments or princes, but to 
men as individuals. These, subjects as they might be, and without 
any corporate existence, the emperor did not hesitate to invoke to 
carry out the war. He could engage with Kossuth to arouse 
Hungary; he could stimulate the middle provinces of Italy to cast 
off their governments ; he could negotiate with Garibaldi. But 
when peace comes, he finds that those whom it was not below his 
notice to fif/lif with, are now below his notice to keep faith with. 


I and the Austrian Emperor; I and the Sardinian King; but not 
I and the vai5t bodies of men whom I invoked to insurrection. 
Now what I fear is, that while Xapoleon III. piques himself on 
his gallant fidelity to his promises to princes, he considers peopln^' 
as not entitled to such immunities. He broke his oath to the 
French people to sustain the republican constitution. He has now 
broken his pledges to the Italians, who flocked to him in his Aus- 
trian campaigns. 

"And yet with all this, I must think that the peace is a gain to 
the cause of humanitj- and religion. It will not — and this is the 
general opinion among those best informed — restore the Austrian 
Arch-dukes in central Italy. It will leave Austria in a small 
minority in the new confederacy. It secularizes the Pope. Giant 
despair will have to come down from the cannon-mounted fortress 
of prerogative, and meet other men as his peers on the open plain. 
So much as to religion. And then as to liberty. I ([ucstion whether 
a republic could possibly stand in Italy over a month ; and whether, 
after all, the best she can have is not a strong government, acting 
on a liberal policy as to education and religion. 


"An advertisement in the Times, last week, announced that on 
that day (Thursday, July 20), the ' Society for the Promotion of 
Sanitary Knowledge,' which, after all, is only a society to tell 
mothers how best to treat sick children, would hold an anniversary 
meeting. The names of Lord Shaftesbury, Mr. Kingsley, and Mr. 
Maurice, who were advertised as speakers, brought me to the hall 
at the hour aj)pointed. As I entered the room, there was a sort of 
faded finery about it that told of a world, veiy ditferent from that 
whose sympathies were nominally invoked that morning. The 
walls were interspersed with pictures of graces, in light |)ink and 
blue gauzes, now made still gauzier by the effacing hand of time, 
skipping about in dances, or holding in their hands what I suppose 
were some kinds of instruments of music. The short-waisted and 
convolvulus-shaped skirts, the postures and styles of dances, all 
told of about sixty or seventy years back. Could they have told 
more, they would have narrated a story to which the world would 
listen with that eager attention, wliidi the fashion of the present 


gives to the history of the fashion of the past. For here was the 
old seat of Ahnacks. Here struggled, with a bitterness greater 
than that of the political chiefs whom they followed, the rival 
duchesses of Rutland and of Devonshire. To the gates of this 
room hurried thousands with a devotedness equal to that of the 
worshippers of Juggernaut. All these are now in their graves. 
Now, however, the scene has changed. Of all meetings of respec- 
table ladies' societies that I have ever seen, this was one of the most 
sedate and subdued. Even one of our own children's homes or 
Dorcas meetings could not have jiresentcd a greater contrast to the 
old Almacks than did this. There were about one hundred ladies 
present, most of them of mature years. And the very few men 
\vhom I could see sat in the back -ground, as if in cheerful submis- 
sion to feminine supremacy in this, its proper sphere. 

"Lord Shaftesbury, who took the chair, is well known in America 
as the leader of the evangelical interest in the Anglican Church. 
For such a post he has peculiar qualifications. His courage and 
his consistency are as unquestioned as his piety. And he has, what 
in England is of much importance, not only political weight but 
patrician dignity. His noble ancestry gives him the second, and 
his ctmnection with Lord Palmei-ston the first. He married a 
daughter of Lady Palmerston, and has been thus brought into 
close connection witii that remarkable man who, having, in the 
course of fifty years, taken part in nearly every administration by 
which England has been governed, now occupies, for a second 
time, the post of Prime INIinister. It is to Lord Sliaftesbury's in- 
fluence that Lord Palmerston's excellent ecclesiastical apjjojut- 
ments are generally traced. Lord Shaftesbury did not appear to 
me to be much over fifty. He is tall, slender and was dressed 
in that plain and informal manner by which English gentlemen 
are marked. For this kind of dress, I may observe in passing, 
there are one or two reasons besides taste. The damp climate pre- 
scribes thick tweeds, and banishes, except for evenings, the glossy 
and dapper black broad cloths, which are so uniform among our- 
selves. But I can see another reason for this plainness among the 
higher classes. What might be called fine dressing among the 
men, is not only monopolized, but made ridiculous by the footmen. 
An American cannot look at the more exuberant specimens of this 
class without a smile: A wig whose circumference is edged bv long; 


ridges of crisp white well powdered curls — a nappy black broad- 
cloth frock or dress coat and trowsers to match — a shining white 
Maistcoat — these, by their very absurdity, seem to exclude the 
dress they caricature from general morning use. 

" The audience whom Lord Siiaftesbury addressed was one al- 
most exclusively of ladies, and what he was to speak to them about 
was what is jiecidiarly woman's ^vork. He stood up behind a 
small table, and, hat iu hand, began to talk to his audience in that 
hesitating manuer by which English public speaking is so often 
marked. At first he was not well heard, but a hint was given to 
him of this, and he raised his voice to a tone which, though con- 
versational, enabled him, without effort and with increasing ease, 
to fill the whole room. 

" What he said was eminently feasible and practical. It was 
the peculiar duty of women, he declared, to teach women. Without 
the })ractical instruction which could so easily be given as to the 
best way of securing cleanliuess and health, the gift of money 
would be comparatively useless. He mentioned the case of a 
parish, in which, by the introduction of white-washing, the number 
of dispensary cases had been reduced eight hundred. He advised 
the extension of what were called ' Mothers' Meetings,' in which 
mothere were instructed as to the best way of nursing children. 
He touched upon several injurious usages, one of which was the 
bench without a back, and another the velocipedes, in which 
very often a robust child was made to play baby, and a delicate 
sister to act horse. He closed by urging the advantages of a 
scheme such as this as a means of introducing the gospel, and 
at the same time its uselessuess unless the gospel be made its 

" Mr. Kingsley M^as next announced, and, you may easily sup- 
pose, at once arrested my attention. My first idea was that he was 
about thirty-five, though I have since been told that he is much 
older. His hair is raven black ; his figure slight and slim ; his 
eyes of a light blue, in marked contrast with his hair ; his voice 
hai'd though clear. I think I have rarely seen a manner which 
was, at the first sight, worse. He writhed and twisted his naturally 
good shape into all sorts of outlandish attitudes. He let his voice 
out in wreathes and snorts like steam. Soon, however, this 
agonizing consciousness was lost, at least on the part of the hearer. 


TlKiuglit after thouijlit, as it escaped from tlie struggling engine 
below, wreathed itself like the steam-puffs that we sometimes see 
on a clear day, in symbols of beauty above. Tliat what Mr. 
Kingsley said had a good deal in it of what we would call strong- 
mindedness in our own country — that it had a good deal of that 
affected humanitarianism which distinguishes the Boston senti- 
mental philanthropists of Unitarianism, I do not dispute. But 
there was occasionally a thought of great energy and sense that de- 
manded our respect. It is true that here, as well as in his waitings, 
he gave the text of Scripture an occasional extraordinary material- 
istic wrench. Thus he interpi-eted : ' My father will not suffer one 
of these little ones to perish,' to mean that he will not suffer one 
of them to be dwarfed or destroyed by unkindness or maltreat- 
ment. One thought he pressed with great beauty. It M'as that 
the death of an old man might be tolerated, for that was in the 
course of nature; the death of a soldier on the battle-field might 
be tolerated, for that M-as voluntary, and witli the previously ac- 
cepted compensation of fame; the death of a mature man might 
be tolerated, for he had in some sense measiu'ed his course ; but 
the death of a young child had an awfulness about it from its re- 
pugnance to God's own appointment of probation, and from its 
almost universal connection with that carelessness which generates 
disease. War, he said, had its courtesies, but not so the pestilence 
which man's selfishness generates. The first spares women and 
children ; not the second. You have given us your peace society 
against war: now give us your peace society against disease. 


" The point I mentioned to you in my last, as having been for- 
mally agitated by the Times, has received a decisive solution. The 
Church Missionary Society has examined it fully, and made a report 
last week through Mr. Venn. They take ground against the policy of 
consecrating black Bishops for an Anglican Colonial church. They 
sav that they see no objection to transmitting the Episcopate entire, 
when the time arrives, to an independent African Church. But 
they urge that while the Church remains colonial, it is better that 
its chief minister should be a wiiite of Anglican descent. They 
add that they have consulted in this the colonial clergymen of 
Sierra Leone, and that they agree in the report. — I cannot but 


tliiuk that this takes from our English brethren a good part of the 

edge of the weapons they have so often used against us. Beyond 

this position our Church certainly has never gone ; and in the 

ordination of priests, all her sections have testified their Catholicity 

of feeling in the ordination by common consent of natives of China 

and AYest Africa. 

"F. W." 

"Milan-, Aug. 3, 1859. 

" The little village of Thusis derives its name from a colony of 
Tuscans, who are supposed, at a period early in Roman history, to 
have fled across the Alps and taken reiuge in this spot. The Nolla, 
one of the tributaries of the Rliine, gives that river a gray, 
soap-stone hue, which is drawn from a range of mountains which 
here arise. Thusis exhibits in a close and yet repellant contiguity, 
the features of alpine and valley scenery. On one side lies a broad 
and velvet-like sweep of lawn, which even a park on the Isle of 
Wight miglit envy. On the other side, the advance guards of the 
Alps slant forward their austere heads, as if stooping over to gaze 
on the calm valley before them. 

"But the alternations of scenery around Thusis are not so re- 
markable as the alternation of faith. The storms of the Reforma- 
tion here rent asunder people with as fierce and final a blow as those 
by which the mountains are severed. 

' A gloomy stream now flows between, 

But neither Imil, nor storm, nor tliunder. 
Can do away, I ween. 

The marks of that whicli once has been !' 

" At Chur, which is a short drive of two hours from Thusis, the 
German language and the Calvinistic faith prevail. At Ems, 
.separated from Chur only by a slender tributary of the Rhine, we 
have the Romaic dialect and the Roman Catholic faith. Reichen- 
hau is German and Calvinistic ; Bouadus, Romaic and Roman 
Catholic; Thnsis, German and C'alvinistic. It is of the last-named 
place that I now write. 

"It is ten o'clock on Sunday morning. The bell in tlie church 
by our .side, as well as that in Ziliis, is ringing just in the same 


way as our bells in Philadelphia, which is very diiferent from the 
more tiuny and flatter sound of the convent bells of the Romish 
Churches on the continent. When we enter, the church is quite 
fiill. Outside, like most of the Swiss Protestant Churches, it is 
shaped like a New England meeting-house, with a pepper-box 
tower in front, and an oblong body, distinguished, however, by a 
deep chancel. The congregation is a large one, and comprises the 
whole village. The men and women sit on opposite sides, and the 
children are collected by themselves in the chancel, facing the con- 
gregation. The spectacle, to an American eye, is very novel. The 
younger women have their heads bare, and the elder wear merely a 
knit cap. The men are dressed very plainly, and are most of them 
of the lowest order of jieasants. That many of them come from a 
distance, I think is evidenced by the number of shepherd's and 
other dogs that skirmish about imder the seats, most of them, I 
regret to say, engaged in warfare ^^•itll the fleas, which form so 
serious a drawback to Swiss travel. 

" Preciselv as the bell stops ringing, the minister takes his seat 
in the pulpit. He is a thick-set young man, perhaps of about 
thirty. His clerical dress may be better described as a jacket than 
a gown, for it stops about his waist, while it is adorned with two 
hunches like shoulder knots on the shoulders. The old Geuova 
skull-cap he does not wear, nor has he any other badges indicating 
the clerical profession. 

" The service is begun with a hymn, which we were not slow to 
recognize as Old Hundred, which is admirably sung by the whole 
congregation, sustained by an organ, which plays, however, nothing 
■ but the air. Then the minister reads from a book, the people 
standing, a confes-sion veiy similar to that which begins our prayer 
book, with a brief liturgical service. Then comes another hymn, 
then a small poilion of Scriptures, and then a short sermon in the 
German, though with a dash of provincialism which increased my 
difficultv in uuderstanding what he said. But in the main, it was 
a practical and faithful application of St. Paul's doctrine, that 
those who are freed from the law through faith, ought nevertheless 
to ftilfil all the injunctions of the law in the spirit. And this I 
mav sav, that a more earnest congregation I have never seen than 
that which was here collected in this Alpine Swiss church. Here, 
the faith has been preserved pure, and it shows its result in the 


Simplicity of the people. Poor, thev undoubtedly are, for tliev 
inhabit but a miserable ledge of soil. But this poverty, bv its 
separation from its ordinary incidents of vice and pauperism, indi- 
cates how energetic is the faith by which it is here enlightened. 

" Crossing the Alps has been already often described in vour 
columns by pens far abler than mine. It has been mv lot to ascend 
most of the mountain ranges in our own country. Of these, the 
White Mountains alone give a standard with which the Alps mav 
be estimatetl. Tlie Alleghanies are a series of well rounded slopes ; 
the Rocky Mountains a vast, desolate, and uninhabitable chain of 
rocks. Unlike the Alleghanies, the Alps push their ruggeil and 
bare heads far aliove the region of vegetation. On some of their 
summits lies perpetual snow. They extend their giant limbs in 
shapes the wildest and most distorted ; a precipice of five hundred 
feet protruding over us in one direction, a deep ravine gaping up 
towai-ds us in a second, and a cataract of Niagara height dashing 
by us in a third, (^n the other hand, the Alps dither from the 
Rocky Mountains in the excessive beauty of their valleys, in the 
rich cultivation by which their ledges are made productive, and in 
the number of the villas, villages, and castles by which they are 


" But I pass these more obvious features, to notice one or two 
which fall more within your particular range. The first is the 
testimony paid by these mountains, and by tiie slopes which sur- 
round them, to the existence of a religious sense. Stupendous 
works have been here done, but the most stupendous of all have 
been done for religion. Superb post roads, with bridges like those 
of our most substantial railways, span tiic Alps, but these roads 
are less expensive, were wrought with far less self-denial and vol- 
untary grinding labor, than the chapels, the churches, and the 
cathedrals, which we meet on every side. Nowhere do we find 
greater proof that man knows himself alienated from his God ; 
that he feels the agony of this banishment ; that in his own blind 
way he seeks to find a home, by splendid decorations and by superb 
architecture, in which this God will condescend to dwell near men. 
But he does this with a conscience so depravetl, and perceptions so 
debased, that the most splendid temple he erects, and the most im- 



posing worsliip he offers, are suited only to a deity as uarrow and 
weak as himself. 

" I speak not now of the Swiss Protestant churches. They are 
plain, simple, and re%'erent, suitable places for the worship of liini 
who is a Spirit and who is to be worshipped in spirit and in truth. 
I pass, also, the magnificent Cathedral of Milan, under whose 
shadow I now write, and which, while it cost more than all the 
four hundred churches in Philadelphia put together, has a Sunday 
congregation not equal to one of our average Sunda}- schools. Let 
us go from these, the grander effects of this sense of banishment 
from God, and of a blind striving to propitiate him by human 
gifts, to the wayside oratories by which 'the roads are marked. To 
a stranger these are among the most remarkable proofs that we are 
passing from a Protestant to a Romish country. There they stand, 
one almost every half a mile. A little stone mausoleum, of about 
ten feet high and six deep, contains in its recess a tawdrily-painted 
image of the virgin and child, which is protected by an iron rail- 
ing, in front of which are altar steps. But, alas ! it is the Madonna 
who predominates over everything, and the Madonna in the least 
spiritual of shapes, spangled and satinued over as if going to a/e<c. 
I do not recollect seeing any worshippers at these shrines. But be 
this as it may, you will find nowhere else a more idle and degraded 
looking peoj)le. It is not because the soil is bad, as is the case in 
a great part of Switzerland, nor is it entirely on account of the 
numerous holidays which the Church requires to be kept undese- 
crated by labor. But I think the reason of this, and of the political 
imtx'cility of the jieople, is to be found in the way in which the 
religion of tiie land, instead of elevating the soul to heaven, lowers 
it below eartJi. 


" As soon as you descend into Lombardy, you become painfully 
struck by the appearance of the priests. In France they have the 
look of polished though decorous men of the world ; in Germany, of 
benevolent old fogies ; and in both these countries they appear but 
rarely, and also with a subdued demeanor, as of men walking among 
their equals. But in Italy, notwithstanding their recent rebufls and 
the hatred borne towards them by the body of the people, they infest 
the streets, and stalk about with an air of insolent superiority, in 


which there is neither courtesy nor kindness. Such is their general 
cast, though there are of course many varieties. Tlius yesterday, 
in steaming through the Lake of Como, besides a number of the 
class I have described, there were two or three exceptions which 
particularly attracted my attention. One was a very jolly and tat 
old priest, who smoked his cigar, chatted pleasantly with the cap- 
tain, and looked with a sort of scowl on the crowd of invalid 
French officers, of Sardinian free-booters and of American heretics, 
who occupied the rear of .the boat. But still more striking were 
two Capuchin monks. Their heads were bare, though the sun was 
beating on them with all the force of an Italian August. — Wooden 
sandals were the only protection of their feet. Their bodies were 
covered by loose sacks of coarse, i-eddish, brown-woi'sted, girdled 
only by a rope round the waist. The elder of them was about 
fifty, with a countenance furrowed by exposure and suffering, but 
marked with a dignity far different from the superciliousness of 
his neighbors of the regular priesthood. The other was scarcely 
twenty-five. Lank, emaciated and brown, he had a haggard and 
agonizing expression, which those alone can appreciate who recollect 
Wilkie's picture of the young Spanish monk on his knees seeking 
solace from his superior. In that picture we have exhibited the 
vehement strivings of a heart which is shaken to its depths, by 
passions and aspirations to which tiie cloister opposes a menacing 
bar. He had tried to extinguish them but in vain. Thev storm 
the more violently than ever, for they are in part the natural in- 
stincts of the human breast for society, and their enthralment, 
while it increases their waywardness, increases their powers. He 
sinks on his knees, and piteously implores his director for succor 
and comfort, his countenance showing the intensity of the struggle 
going on underneath between the religious and the social instincts. — 
Such, I cannot but think, was the expression of the young Capuchin 
whom I met yesterday on Lake Como. 

" Let me add that the arrogance of the regular priests is met by 
a bitter hate or contemptuous ridicule on the j^art of the great bodv 
of the people. Thus at Chiavennia, the main hotel, where the 
great body of travelers going across the Alps from Milan stop, the 
walls were distinguished by pictures exhibiting priests in the most 
ridiculous and indecorous lights. There was a priest gormandizing 
on a fast-day on all sorts of stealthy dainties ; there was a priest 


amazing even a trooper bv the largeness of his jiotations ; there 
was a priest eloping nnder eireumstances still more discreditable. 
Is there a section of onr own country M'here such treatnif iit of the 
clergy even of the Koniish Church — to say nothing of the Prot- 
estant — would be tolerated ? 

"F. W." 


"That flat, prairie like plain, that stretches for miles on each 
side of us, is IMarengo, and there Napoleon I. won liis first great 
victory over Austria. And there, a few miles to the East is the 
river Ticino, scarcely wider than the Vemon river at Gambier, 
but from its emerald clearness, and the babbling haste with which 
it is scampering down its bed, much more like one of our Alle- 
ghany mountain sti'eams. Well indeed, may it seem burdened 
with many a message, for it has lately witnessed many strange 
scenes. A few weeks ago its waters were red with blood. Not 
far from its banks lies Magenta, where let us for a moment stop. 
There is the spot where the Austrians were driven into the town, 
made a final stand, and in that cemetery followed a desperate con- 
flict in w'hich the ground was strewed with corpses. And there, 
still further on, where you see the houses riddled with cannon and 
rifle balls, is the place w'here the Zouaves made their last desper- 
ate .but successful charge. Not far off is the point where the 
French general, Espinasse, breathed his last. One mourner I sa\v 
there who told us that fidelity does not belong to man aloue. A 
large brown dog, with a medal round his neck, was wandering 
about as if in search of something. He belonged to the General, 
and having seen his master last at that spot, has since then kept 
watch for his return. The remains of the General wx're a short 
time since removed to France, and his family sent out orders to 
have the dog brought after them. But this faithful companion 
knew not that all that remained of him whom he loved had gone 
before; aud he broke loose at a railway station where his guard 
took him out to water. A few days afterwards he was found with 
his broken chain, at ^Magenta, at the very place where his master 
had fallen. 

dr. francis wharton. 117 

"the cathedral and the living hero. 

" Sunday, August 8th, was the day appointed by Victor Emman- 
uel for his triumphant entrance into INIilan, the capital of Lom- 
bardy, which now for the first time he visits after it was assigned 
to him by the peace of Villa Franca. I was at Milan at the time, 
and though the want of any Protestant place of worship kept me 
very much in my hotel, yet the demonstrativeness of the Milanese 
left no doubt as to what was going on. I may here remark, in 
passing, that one of the most difficult sacrifices which an earnest 
Protestant is compelled to make, is that of abstaining from visits to 
the Romish churches on Sunday. When we have no other place 
of worship open to us, our heart yearns for one so splendid in its 
decorations, so fascinating in its music, and at the same time nomi- 
nally, at least, devoted to the service of the same Lord. ]Manv 
Americans — differing in this from their sturdier English brethren — 
yield to this temptation, and often think that they can do so with a 
devotional temper — I do not speak at all for such ; but for myself 
I cannot but feel that these churches, on Sundays, are but spectacles 
and not places of worship, and however innocent a visit to them 
may be in the week, yet as you cannot hear a word that is going 
on, and as the whole service is a mere pageant, the visit, even 
though innocent, is nothing but sight-seeing. Let me give you, 
as an illustration of this, a sketch of last Sunda}' at the Milan 

"I was in the vaults of the Cathedral the day befoi-e, on an 
errand I will presently describe to you, and was present at the 
exhumation of an extraordinary amount of trappings that had 
been buried a short time previous, to escape the apprehended sack. 
St. Charles Borromeo, certainly a most worthy philanthropist, and 
a devout tliough mistaken Christian, is the tutelary guardian of 
Milan, and all sorts of insignia commemorating him were being 
dragged out. First, tumbling feet foremost, came two silver 
colossal statues, the cost of which we were told was two millions 
of francs, or four hundred thousand dollars. Then was turned 
out with an irreverence in singular contrast with its nominal 
sanctity, a tooth of the saint, done up in a heavy silver casket. 
Then came a number of other relics, some pretending to be con- 
nected even with our blessed Lord, but all mixed up in a mass of 


old refuse decorations — fire-works — stands for colors — and stage 
trappings, which had been used on prior public rejoicings. "We 
have heard of shoes which followed one husband to his grave, and 
then danced at a wedding with a set«nd. These trappings were 
something of the same class. Their last office had been to deck an 
Austrian triumph. The priests, wishing to be economical, thought 
that by erasing a spread-eagle in one place, and daubing on the 
tricolors in another, nobody would be the wiser if the same finery 
was brought out as an apparent impromptu to do honor to the 
Piedmontese concjueror. 

" But the device did not succeed. The secret crept out, and a 
Milanese mob delighted itself early on Sunday morning with ex- 
posing the priests and baffling their designs by tearing down the 
exhumed decorations. Then came a struggle against time. Dis- 
affection to any government, and particularly to a government that 
has as its allies such rapacious and irresponsible agents as mobs, is 
the last thing of which Italian ecclesiastics would be openly guilty. 
So at once all hands set to work, priests, attendants, and the work- 
men they could collect. The king was to appear at six in the 
afternoon. The hands could hardly be collected before noon. So 
the service at the ^Milanese Cathedral on that day was divided into 
three parts. In the first, officiated the mob ; in the second, a crowd 
of milliners, upholsterers, carpenters and ecclesiastics ; in tiie third, 
the king, the officers of state, the hierarchy, and the people in the 
full splendor of a Te Deum. 


" I have not heretofore written about church architecture, and 
I do not mean to do so in future, partly because you can get far 
better descriptions elsewhere, and partly because it is rather with 
those active elements which deal with our own thoughts that I 
want to treat. But I must pause a moment before the Milan 
Cathedral, the most superb specimen of Gothic architecture, in 
regard both to the majesty of its dimensions and the luxury of its 
finish. I have now seen St. Paul's, in Loudon ; the Madeleine and 
the Notre Dame, in Paris ; and the Cathedral at Cologne. This, 
however, impresses me as much the finer. It is of white marble, 
and reminds you in some slight degree of Grace Church, New 
York, supposing that church to be expanded tenfold, to ha\-e its 


decorations almost indefinitely multiplied and refinod, and to be 
provided with a suitable number of transepts and chajjels. Out- 
side of it alone there are four thousand five hundred marble statues 
of the average size of life. 

" The full grandeur of the pile can be seen from above. Four 
hundred aud fifty stone steps lead you to the top. There you are 
on the summit of a vast marble roof, of about eight times the area 
of Girard College, but how different ! There we have a flat plain ; 
but here we have pinnacles, their bases fringed with the most 
luxuriant marble foliage, and their bare, alpine summits, divided 
from each other by deep ravines, whose white depths are almost 
hidden in their recesses by the shadows falling on them, and by 
the contrast with the sun-lit heights above. Not many miles oif 
arise in the landscape the snow clad tops of the IMonte Rosa ; aud as 
we stand on the Cathedral top, and view the Alps, M'ith their like 
intermingling of snow glitter aud ravine shade, we cannot but 
feel the beauty of INIr. Ruskin's remark, made, however, in a fiir 
different connection, that there is ' a certain look of mountain- 
brotherhood between the Cathedral and the Alps.' 

"the cathedral and the dead saint. 
" There is a sight below, however, more strange, if not more 
impressive, than the sight above. Deep in a crypt lighted with 
funeral tapers, in a sepulchre and adorned with every beauty that 
wealth and art can provide, lies the body of St. Cliarles Borromeo. 
A dollar is the admission fee to see him, and I but followed the 
current in paying the visit. A coffin of plates of rock crystal 
welded together by gold, is covered by a silver case that by an 
ino-enious piece of mechanism may be screwed down in such a way 
as to leave the body of the saint exposed. There he lay, the head, 
notwithstanding its mummy like state, recalling to you the well 
known portraits and statues. Over the brow hung an exquisite 
gold coronet, the work of Benvenuto Cellini. The body was 
covered with the cardinal's official robe of damask heavy with 
gold. One hand was gloved and held a crosier, and on the other, 
which was bare, sparkled several jewels, claimed to be of immense 
value. So glared and glittered the saint at us, his shrunk and 
blackened features in painful contrast with the jewels and gold 
that blazed on us as they met the light of the torch. 


" Now to a taste not adjusted to European standards, such a 
sight as this, if it does not shock, will at least awe. I am sorry, 
however, to say that I found these feelings gradually weakening at 
the sociahle, easy way in which the scene was treated by our atten- 
dants. One of them was an ecclesiastic who, before he could go 
down to the sacred place, felt obliged to put on a cape of lace. It 
would have been better, however, if he had put on the cape of a 
reverential temper, for when he got down to the vault he skipped 
about with such levity, and ran the torch with such vivacity to- 
wards different parts of the saint's body, chattering all the time 
about it with such familiarity, as to leave on the mind the im- 
pression of a second-rate menagerie exhibitor. In one of his skips 
he flirted against a tall silver crucifix and knocked it over. Knowing 
the revereuce paid by the priests in public to these awful symbols, 
I imagined that he would at once stop, and with some decorum, 
place it again on its pedestal. Not so, however. On he went, 
chirping away as cheerily as ever, as he put the torch where this 
jewel or that bone could be best seen, while the eyeless and toothless 
and jewelled dead, still glared and glittered at us from below. It 
was for one of us, a Protestant, to replace the prostrate image, and 
soon after our attendants took us out as gaily and gossippingly as 
they took us in. 

" Now I have dwelt on this, because I fear it is but a sample of 
the stage trick by which the Church of Rome, in Italy, itself faith- 
less if not scoffing, turns the most solemn mysteries of our common 
humanity, as well as of our divine religion, into the suljjects of ex- 
hibition and sale. 

"F. W." 


"Already Protestant missions have been organized in Lombardy. 
The British and Foreign Bible Society has made a large appro- 
priation, and many thousand Bibles and Testaments are at Milan. 
Even more propitious than this is the action of the Evangelical 
Society at Geneva, which has detailed some of its best agents to 
act as colporteurs in this fertile and populous, though but lately 
emancipated region. 

" So far as concerns the Government, these movements have for 


the present fair play. Yiotor Eiumamiel, who, by the peace of 
Villa Franca, has absolute sway in Lombardy, has irrevocably 
committed himself to free principles. He governs in Sardinia 
through a parliament, and the fundamental sanctions of the Con- 
stitution which is there established are universal education, and 
what Mr. Bright, in a late speech in the House of Commons, called 
religious free-trade. The resignation of Count Cavour, does not 
seem likely to affect this policy. That very able and very en- 
lightened minister found himself unable to hold office, it is true, 
under a treaty that guaranteed the continuance of Austrian sove- 
reigntv in Northern Italy. But his withdrawal will not be followed 
bv a reaction. His successors are more advanced liberals than 
himself. I cannot think, in view of these circumstances, and in 
view of the necessity the Sardinian government is under of retain- 
ing its hold on the liberal interests, that there is any danger of 
interference with the Protestant missionaries. 

" On the other hand, the ultra-montane party is uttering shrieks 
of alarm, at the introduction of the Bible into a country, from 
which it lias for so long been excluded by fire and blood. They 
denounce it as a falsified gospel, and they declare that the intrusion 
of Protestant missionaries is a conspiracy against Italian peace. 
i' Univers, the high-Romish organ at Paris, calls upon the Em- 
peror and the Sardinian King to stop the treason at the outset. On 
the other hand, the Siecle, with a great deal more good sense, says 
that even from a Catholic standpoint, these movements will do no 
harm. Opposition, it argues, only purifies and streagtheus the 
Church. Even supposing the Pope to be stripped of his secular 
power, will not this help him ? "Was the papacy ever so powerful 
as when thus disencumbered ? 

" But where will these movements end ? Is there any chance of 
the light breaking on these now darkened plains ? Alas ! I cannot 
say. No earnest Christian can now enter Italy without the exclama- 
tion bursting from his heart, * When the Lord cometh, will he find 
faith among men "?' The priests are now but a foreign element, 
hating and hated. They have no hold on the men, and but little on 
the women. You may traverse the churches — you may scrutinize 
the papers — you may bend your ear to catch the popular voice in 
its whispers as well as its thunders — but you hear no expression of 
reverence for the Romish Church. On the contrary, from every 


quarter there strike you utterances of detestation, of ridicule, or of 

" But is there any countervailing evangelical feeling ? Is this 
oj)position to Rome religious as well as political f I fear not. At 
the best, the assault seems to be from Atheism. No one can 
fail to admire the character of those Italian patriots who, under 
such heavy indignities and persecutions, have resolutely, though 
calmly, kept the liberal ^jolitical faith. But the purest of these in 
rejecting Rome, have rejected revealed religion altogether They 
speak, when they speak on religion at all, in the language of a 
vague pantheism. We might as well expect to make missionaries 
of them as of Horace Greeley or Theodore Parker. And so it is, 
though in a coarser way, witli the people at large. Humanly 
speaking, I do not see how, even in Lombardy, the gospel is to be 
spread, except by the instrumentality of earnest, faithful preachers, 
capable of commanding and directing the attention of a people 
whose sense of individual religious responsibility, seems now almost 


" Whatever may be our jwlitical or social prejudices, I do not 
see how any right-minded American can travel on the Continent of 
Europe without feeling a pride in his English descent. The Eng- 
lishman may be awkward, and in some cases — I have found them 
very rare — supercilious. But wherever he goes he carries with him, 
in all their integrity and pride, the institutions of his home. In a 
country where society is but one great lie, he speaks the truth. In a 
country where everybody cheats, he is not merely honest, but has a 
credulous simplicity about him which makes him a ready victim of 
imposition, until almost the last step, when woe to those who en- 
counter his wrath. In a country where infidels as well as believers 
take oif their hats to relics, and cross themselves with holy water, and 
dip down before altars, he tramps resolutely through cathedrals, and 
from his clumsiness, much more than from even his sc^-pticism, jostles 
so rashly among the ' spectacles' as to draw down many a scowl 
from the priests in charge. But with all this defiant rejection of 
what he thinks wrong, we have an equal defiant maintenance of 
what he thinks right. With him — and he travels a great deal — 
goes his church. Of all intolerantly Roman Catholic communities 


tliat of Luzerne has been tlie most so. Yet here we liad, on Sunday, 
August 14, a congregation of nearly four hundred, attending our 
Church service, and listening to two most faithful sermons from 
the Rev. 'Sir. Alford. The scene was indeed remarkable, for the 
Church is one which the municipal authorities, I suppose from 
political considerations, lent to the English for public worship. It 
is called 'St. Maria, Hilf,' and blossoms all over with Mariolatry. 
The high altar has now a veil over it, but this does not conceal the 
immense picture above, representing the Virgin being worshipped 
by all sorts of personages, celestial as well as terrestrial, while on 
top are in large letters the words — from which the church takes its 
name : 


Nothing, however, could be in greater contrast with this than the 
faitiiful sermons which were that day preached. 


" In singular juxtaposition with the severe majesty of the gospel 
call to worship, is the following, which I translate roughly from 
the Luzerner Tagblatt, of August 14 : — 

' Come evory one to the church-feast. 
For all will be there, the ijreatest and least ! 
Put on your festival jacket and gown, 
For dressed in its finest you'll see all the town. 
Come along on this Sunday, for here you will find 
All kinds of eating and drinking combined — 
With music and singing for those who are inclined, 
But Ave Maria to those who're behind.' 

" And in response to this very extraordinary invitation, the 
streets of Luzerne were thronged even as early as six, with persons 
going to this ' Church-Feast.' Here was a procession of students, 
formed in line, singing their gay songs as they tramped along. 
There came a party of peasants, with their plaited hair and black 
bodices. Wiiat they did when they got to the festival I cannot 
say, but certainly their conduct ou the way was anything but 



" One feature strikes me peculiarly among the English evan- 
gelical clei-gy whom I met in London during my visit there, and 
whom I have since seen on the continent. This is the very great 
positiveness of their theology. You know here this quality was 
noticed in Mr. Kyle's tracts, and how much they owe to it their 
success. Now I do not mean to say that this quality pervades all 
the clergy. But I do say that among those with whom I have 
been particularly thrown, I find a directness of exposition in respect 
to the doctrines of grace, and a simple clearness in the technical 
statement of the necessity of conversion, and of the consequences 
of an unconverted death, such as are by no means conceived even 
with tlie clergy holding the same general views among ourselves. 
Perhaps this is one of the few evil consequences which flow from 
our system of elections. The episcopate is a sore temptation, and 
so often is a seat in a standing committee, or in the General Con- 
vention, and as long as these things are held out as honors, they 
have a sad tendency to produce a weakness in the knees. Men are 
afraid to be considered ultra, forgetting that, humanly speaking, in 
an unconverted world, the truth must be always considered ultra 
by the great body of those who make up public opinion. And 
vet, yield to these — adopt a conqiromising, apologetic May of 
stating the truth — and you lose your main chance of converting 
the world to a real Christianity. 


" Let me, as illustrating this directness in the English clergy, go 
back to Sunday evening, July 24th, when I was spending a most 
happy day in London. I have now before me the programme, 
part of which T extract : — 


Special Suiuhij/ Evening Services. 




Seats F>-ee — No Collection — Come Early. 


" In the programme is a collection of nine hymns, comprising the 
following : — 

'Guide me, O thou great Jehovah.' 

' Ouee more, before we part.' 

' Uome, gracious Spirit, Heavenly Dove. 

' Hark ! the voice of love and mercy.' 

' From all that dwell below the skies.' 

' Come, quickly souls, and Hee away.' 

' Not all the blood of beasts.' 

' Come, thou fount of every blessing.' 

' Christian brethren, ere we part.' 

" Xow here was a service, one of a series, conducted under the 
direct auspices of the Bishop of London, a prelate certainly not a 
I>ow Churchman. Let us see how it was conducted ; and in view 
(if the wonderful success of this movement, not merely in spreading 
the gospel, but in extending the Church among the working classes, 
let me invite the more nervous among our American Churchmen to 
witness the scene. First, the minister of the evening, ]Mr. Cad- 
man, stood up in his black gown, without chancel, reading desk, or 
stool, before that immense congregation. The service opened with 
a hymn, which was followed by the Litany. Then came another 
hymn, and then the bidding prayer, and then the sermon, which, 
like those of which I have already spoken, was faithful, direct, and 
full. Then came an extemporaneous prayer, and then a closing- 

" Xow I have only to say to all this, that I have never seen in 
Episcopal worship so vast, so earnest, so deeply responsive a con- 
gregation. One great, deep voice of entreaty seeme<l to swell up in 
the responses, a sliout of praise and joy — I hope I will be forgiven 
so inelegant an expression — in the hymns. Now, in view of the 
great brotherhood which, in the next world at least, is to exist, was 
it an objection that many of these voices were as rough and harsh 
as they were loud '? Tiiere was a drayman next to me, for instance, 
whose hoarse notes, and coarse though clean linen smock, even the 
most fastidious miglit excuse, when tiiey saw the tears trickle 
down his cheeks as tiie preacher dwelt upon our Lord's aboiuiding 
love and the hardness of the heart that rejects it. Such is the 
movement that is now making tlie Anglican communion the 
popular as well as the national Church of England. 

•' F. W.'- 



" ^Iiinich, of Gci'iiian cities the richest in works of art, has one 
spot which is, of all others, the best calculated to teach us that 
while life is short aud art is long, yet neither is in the balance of 
any account as compared with eternity. At the southern end of 
the city lies a vast graveyard, or God's Acre, as the German 
tongue gives it. Man's acres lie about it, and richly adorned are 
they by human genius. There, in buildings, themselves of the 
most imposing architecture, is on one spot the finest display of 
ancient statuary in the world. — There, on another, is the most com- 
plete collection of Flemish, German, and North Italian paintings. 
On another is a library of 800,000 volumes, second only to that 
of Paris. There, on the west, in the midst of a Parthenon-like 
temple, stands a colossal image of Bavaria, distributing her 
rewards among the laurel-^v^eathed busts which are there arrayed. 
And there, to the north, is the temple of justice, where are dis- 
tributed the rewards and penalties of the living. 

" Let us go, however, to the field where lie the dead on whose 
ears the distribution of these earthly honors fall so lightly, but 
over whom a Judge Omnipotent has now pronounced his award. 
The population of this city of the dead far exceeds that of the 
neighboring city of the living. Many things strike us as we 
enter. The graves are far more artistic than with us. Each has 
its little pot of flowers, to which even strangers, in conformity with 
the permission which is given on the gates, bring their contribu- 
tions. In front of nearly each grave stands an urn or pan of 
water, near which lies a stick, with a sponge or brush at its end. 
It seems to be a mark of pious care on the jiart of those who pass 
along the walks to sprinkle a few drops of water on the graves of 
those whom perhaps they had known or loved in life, so that there 
the turf may grow more greenly. 

" Two teachers stand here, one small and the other great. The 
first speaks of the splendor and permanence of fame ; of the value 
of glory ; of the lasting gratitude of men. But the other, with an 
austere brow, rebukes this babbler, and points, as he does so, to the 
broken monuments under which emperors lie buried ; to inscrip- 
tions, now illegible, over frames that once struggled as haughtily 
aud successfully as the most splendid hero of the present. 


" Then there are tombs which especially tell us how vain is all 
this talk of glory. In the centre of this graveyard, so overshadowed 
by more brilliant mausoleums as almost to escape observation, is 
an obelisk, on which is the following inscription : — 

" ' L'Armee du Rhiu, commandee par le General ]SIoreau, a la 
memoire du General Bastoul, blesse a la bataille de Hohenlinden, 
le 12. Trim, mort a ilunich, le 25 Nix, an 9. de la Repub. Franc' 

"Would not even that brilliant young general have thought, 
had he known what was to come, that glory was but a poor thing, 
if all that remained of it after fifty years was a cold gray stone 
upon which only a chance foot stumbles ! Then as to the eartldy 
objects, fyr which he, and the army of \A'hich he was one, struggled ! 
The tombs around him answer. Numberless Bavarian captains 
lie there, speaking exultingly of each step that led to France's 
final humiliation. Some tell us how the republic vanished, and 
how the great first consul himself laid prostrate that liberty for 
which so much blood had been shed. Some speak of Russian 
snows, and qf Frenchmen, and as well of Germans left behind in 
a frozen grave. Others come from Leipzic, with wounds gladly 
earned in that great jjeople's fight. Others tell us that A\^aterloo, 
in witnessing the final defeat of France, witnessed also their own 
death in battle. But sadder than all, rises that sublime monument 
which was raised to Eugene Beauharnois by the genius of Thor- 
waldsen. I do not know but that this struck me as the finest 
piece of sculpture I have yet seen, though, perhaps, this may have 
been from its moral force as well as for its ai'tistie beauty. The 
monument was erected by his widow, and there are few more 
touching illustrations of woman's constancy than that which the 
inscription exhibits. Forgetting the dynastic honors which her 
husband derived from herself, the daughter of a Bavarian King, 
she commemorates him — in ^\•ords which must have rung harshly 
in Bavarian ears — simply as Eugene Napoleon, once Vice-Roy of 
Italy. He did not live long after his marriage, nor long after the 
final overthrow of the first Napoleon, and now as the singularly 
beautiful and majestic face of the son of Josephine looks down on 
us, what lessons does it teach of the shadowiness of human 
triumphs ! He who lies underneath that stone would not now, if 
he still lived, have been an old man, and yet his life would have 
spanned in France alone the erection and the demolition of two 


moiiiurhies, of republican coustitutions almost numberless, and of 
that splendid empire of which he was himself one of the noblest 

" There is one more scene in this graveyard to whicii I must 
turn. As you I'each the end of an arcade, under which are ranged 
the higher order of mausoleums, you come suddenly to a series of 
large glass doors separating you from a recess-chamber. ' How 
life-like,' you exclaim, for the first impression is that here in their 
glass cases lie waxen images of the dead. But no ! they are the 
dead themselves. — Here they are from diiy to day, laid, as it were, 
in state for a few hours before their interment. They are dressed 
in their usual clotiies, though decorated with peculiar ^are, and 
flowers lie abundantly around them. I could not but linger for a 
moment before one of those chambers. Two biers, aroimd the 
head of each of which were flickering wax candles, stretclied there. 
On one was a very aged man, his almost gauzy gray hair dropping 
lightly over a face whose wrinkles death had smoothed, his left 
hand grasping a cross, while his right enclosed a bell-rope, which 
is thus extended to give notice in case of resuscitation. 

" In the next lay a woman whose face, on which the carefully 
braided brown hair scarcely showed a glimmer of gray, wore an 
expression very sad as it lay turned towards the window where I 
was standing. I looked at the register which was hung up by the 
window-sill, and saw her age was thirty-seven. ' Poor thing,' I 
heard a voice near me say, ' she had much sorrow, but she is now 
at rest.' It was one woman speaking to another ; but I felt that it 
was a lesson to which all men might listen. — Sorrow and rest ! 
To those who know their own hearts, how precious is the thought 
that the one is God's discipline to the other. 


" I am sorry to give so unfavorable an account of Continental 
Sundays, but I am confident that there is no American but must 
on first view do the same. Here, indeed, there is far more of the 
heart engaged in religion than in France, and far more of the head 
than in Italy, but still even here, Sunday is a day which merely 
intensifies the pleasure if not the labors of other days. Most of 
the shops are open. The public amusements ai-e magnified and 
multiplied. The ' Tages — Anzeiger,' which lies before me, gives 


notice of three theatres, of a ciroiis, of a ' carousal,' of twelve pub- 
lic balls, and of a juggler's exhibition. Now all this is for this 
evening, and a population of 130,000, in which, in the same even- 
ing, there is not a single religious service. 

" On the other hand, so far as the churches are concerned, there 
is much more seriousness here, and a much nearer approach to 
Orthodoxy, than in countries of Romanic population. The Virgin 
sinks from a primacy to a subordinate station. We no longer see 
in pictures of the last day, men such as Xapoleon footing his way 
upwards to heaven, through saints and martyrs as superciliously 
and successfully as in earth he jostled his way through princes and 
kings. Frivolous relics are not by any means as numerous, nor 
frivolous holidays as frequent. The Church, also, shows a tar 
greater zeal for public edification. I have now before me a list of 
Komish services for Sunday, Aug. 21st. They are over sixty in 
number, and distributed among twenty-eight churches. Now, 
though, this is but one-third of what there would be in American 
cities of the same size, yet it is twice as many as there are in Paris. 


"Twii importants steps have lately been taken towards German 
t(jleratiiin. The Prussian Government, as you are aware, estab- 
lished some years l)ack a system of compulsory uniformity, by 
which Calvinists and LutJierans were fused into a new national 
communion. The common-schools were placed in connection with 
tin's Church, and it was rccjuired that all Protestant children should 
attend these schools. This was peculiarly hard upon the old Higli- 
Church Lutherans, who had conscientious scruples against \\hat 
they considered a pernicious latitudinarianism — I am glad to sav 
that the present administration has removed this restriction. A 
decree has been issued authorizing dissenters from the state-church 
to establish schools for the religious instruction of their children, 
provided that nothing is taught in such school contravening the 
laws of the land. Other restrictions on tiie religious worship of 
the dissenters have been removed by a decree which took effect on 
July 20. 

"On the other liand the Emperor of Austria has expressly de- 
nied a statement that the new foundations for the benefit of the 
orphan children of soldiers killed in the late war, were to be con- 


fined to Catholics. It is true that in many cases the funds whicli 
makeup these foundations are dedicated to Catholic use alone; 
and with these the government does not interfere. With its own 
funds, however, it makes no discrimination. The Emperor has 
made another move in the same direction, in giving a piece of 
ground for a Protestant Church at Vienna. I regret, however, to 
sav, that in the promised decree for the relief of Protestants, no 
change is made in the provision, that the children of mixed mar- 
riages should in all cases be educated Catholics. 


" The disgraceful scenes which have been enacted at Jerusalem 
it is now hoped will be closed. A Convention has just been exe- 
cuted between the French and the Russian Emperor providing for 
the restoration of the sepulchre at their joint cost, and for future 
alternate worship between the two confessions. 

"F. W." 


" From no German city are there to be heard voices of greater 
religious significance than from Prague. Let me ask you to visit 
with me a few of the scenes from which these voices arise, and 
there to enquire whether we cannot draw from them one or two 
impoilant lessons. 


" First let us go to the old Bohemian IMetropolitan Church .of 
St. Viet. Five hundred years ago it was begun, four hundred and 
fiftv years ago completed. Like the Cathedral at Cologne, it 
exhibits in the Alpine severity of its many pinnacled heights, as 
well as in the grand gotliic simplicity of its naves and aisles, the 
peculiar characteristics of that, almost the purest, era of Christian 
architecture. In its vaults lie buried the bodies of some of the 
earliest German warriors and confessors. St. Wenzel, is commem- 
orated by a chapel whose walls are studded with Bohemian precious 
stones, over which is hung a tapestry marking the first period of 
German art. Here, also, are the earlier and more orthodox phases 
of mediaeval theology, to be marked. In that recess is a copy, as 


old as 1368, of the famous Byzautine picture of our blessed 
Ijord ; the only picture that comes down to us with any historical 
attestation. And it is worthy of notice how free, is this ancient 
and beautiful jjainting, from the symbols of subsequent corrujjtions. 


" Let us come, however, a step further in the course of time. 
Here, in the Alt-Stadt, is the Teyn-kirche, built in 1407 by 
German merchants, who were beginning to be restive with the 
high ecclesiasticism which even then was creeping into the Cathe- 
dral. Here were the Hussite doctrines first preached. Look at 
that statute of the Virgin standing at the peak of the roof between 
the two towers. That statute did not always stand there. Once on 
that spot was seen a large golden cup, then a Hussite symbol ; and 
underneath that cup stood a statute of George Podiebrad, who was 
crowned in 1458 in that church King of Bohemia. There it is 
that we are told of the fate of Bohemian Protestantism. On Xov. 
8th, 1620, the Protestants, under the elector Palatine, Frederick 
v., then claiming the Bohemian crown, made a final stand against 
the Romish league. The elector had married a daughter of James 
I., of England, and was encouraged in his assumption of the Pro- 
testant leadership by promises from his vain and gasconading but 
cowardly father-in-law. The combination against liim was at once 
powerful and jjrompt. But of this the English people, in those 
days of slow intelligence, knew but little, and when they heard of 
the defeat of the elector, and the annihilation of Bohemian Protes- 
tantism by the allied army under the command of Maximilian of 
Bavaria, there arose on the British shores a shriek of surj)rise and 
rage, which continued to resound until the Stuarts were dethroned, 
and until, under the grand menaces of Cromwell, the more demon- 
strative persecutions, at least, of the Romish princes, ceased. But 
of the intermediate period there is still something here to speak. 
That old town bell, which you see befoi-e the church door, has its 
particular tale. For there, on June 21st, 1621, were publicly 
executed twenty-seven of the Protestant chiefs, most of them 
Bohemian noblemen — and there, twelve years afterwards, AVallen- 
stein beheaded eleven officers of the highest rank in the imperial 



"Let lis descend, however, a little further. Here is a small 
palace, whose outside would remind you not a little, tliough its 
walls are thicker and more substantial, and its surface far more 
weatherbeaten, of that of Joseph Buonaparte, near Bordcntown. 
But inside a very diifcrent scene jjresents itself. For here was the 
ducal residence of NA'^allenstcin, that great and mysterious captain, 
whose reckless ambition, military genius, and love of sjilendor 
gave him so striking a resemblance to the first Napoleon, and his 
stealthy reticence to the third. In the AVallenstein family has this 
palace been preserved almost unchanged down to the present day. 
As you enter you see the artificial grottoes used by the duke as 
baths, and the large gardens, planned in the French fashions of 
those days, where he used to take exercise. A little further and 
you come to a small chamber, in which he himself caused the 
horse, which was killed under him in the battle of Lutzen, to be 
stuffed and preserved. Tliere that horse still stands, in the bridle 
and saddle used by Wallenstein on that eventful day. And there, 
in strange proximity, are the turret in which he used, in company 
with necromancers, to consult the stars, and tlie chapel, in which, 
under the guidance of the priests, to address the Ciiristian's God. 
Here are the very steps on which he ascended to the one, and tiie 
very carpet (of an old Persian pattern, but now greatly worn by 
the feet and hands of the curious if not by the knees of the devo- 
tional) on which he knelt in the other. If we could look a little 
further into the past, what a scene would be uuf ilded to us ! 
There lies the great captain, with the blood from an assassin's 
knife streaming from his bosom. On his table are scattei'ed maps, 
books of astrology and books of devotion, and it is said papers 
from which his intended treachery to the Romish and Imperial 
causes could be proved. Certain it is that in that dark and power- 
ful intellect the plans were matured which would have once more 
broken at least the yoke of the Catholic league. But there he lies 
dead, and with him lies the last present hope of the restoration of 
independence in middle and southern (iermany. 



" But not SO, for, here, once again in the old metropolitan ciuuvh, 
we come to a shattered ])illar from which hangs a cannon ball which 
struck the church during the bombardment of Prague, in 1744, by 
the Prussians under Frederick the Great. Here, on the church 
walls, and on tiie bridge, are still seen the marks of the storming 
and capture of the city in that year, and near here the field of that 
final battle by which, in 1757, the cause of independence, if not 
of Protestantism was for the last time prostrated in Bohemia. And 
now, as if to seal the final submission of this once noble people to 
Austrian tyranny, we have monuments erected to those who in 1848 
put down the liberal movements in Prague, and then trampled out 
the fire of liberty in Italy. 

"From all this turmoil and confusion, from viewing a battle- 
field in which we see the cause which we love and hold true, thrice 
triumjihant and thrice defeated, in which at last, we see its last 
defenders trodden down under heels so hard and remorseless, and 
with an arrogauce so bitter and cruel that our very blood boils — 
what lesson do we draw? Is our God careless of his purposes, 
or uncertain in the execution of his design? Let us go a little 
further still, into another quarter of this ancient city of Prague, 
and sec whether we cannot here find an auswer. 


" View then, the oldest and most enduring monument of them 
all, a monument always changing in substance, never in feature or 
expression, on whose surface of flesh the eternal constancy of 
God's purj)oscs is inserted in letters that never vary. See what 
meets us here, a population of 7000 Jews is forced together in 280 
houses. These houses are like the worst we see in Water street, in 
Philadelphia, but are so close, that their upper stories — and they 
are very high — seem, as they totteringly bend to each other, almost 
to touch. The windows present a singular siglit. Owing, I sup- 
pose, to the cnjwded state of the rooms, the feather beds, in which 
the inmates appear to have burrowed the night before, are hung 
out to air, giving, as they gush outMards frora every house, a 
decamping and unsettled expression strongly harmonizing with' 
that of the people below. For there they are, flitting and writhing 


to and fro, sometimes selling goods in some temporary shanty, or 
peddling and chattering hastily together, but always huddling near 
to each other, with motions as you look down on them at a dis- 
tance moi-e like those of a swarm of suddenly aroused ants, than 
those of men. There they are, with that restless, packed up man- 
ner, as if always just about to start on some great journey, and yet 
never starting, with everything ready to move, and that feverish- 
ness which seems to speak of having been so long ready for the 
great steam-whistle to sound and the cars to start, they, standing 
as it were at the station, with their baggage all collected in sudden 
packages in their hands, and waiting and wondering and waiting, 
and yet the summons never coming though they and the great 
SUMMONS stand as it were there face to face, there they are, with 
that unmistakable physiognomy and manner and habits, there 
they have been for a thousand years, there they will be until He 
that Cometh will come. Tarry thex till i come. So they 
have tarried, tarried the same, tarried waiting, but alas ! tarried so 

" from the JEWISH DEAD. 

" But still, a little furtlier. A crowd of Jewish boys shoving 
up to us. ' Shall we take you here, or there ?' But they slink 
back as a very bent old man totters up. ' I have the keys of the 
old graveyard ; will you go in ?' You enter, paying to your guide 
the fee that he jealously clutches. There are the quarters of the 
Jewish dead, even still more tangled and twisted together than the 
living. Strangely must those bones lie crossed and jostled, for, by 
that compressive and self-involuting nationality we see among the 
houses of the living, the grave-stones lie : here one creeping over 
another, others leaning as it were in a stack, and all together cover- 
ing the o-round as with a continuous heap of aged, long, weather 
beaten granite fragments. But look more closely and you will see 
what a mysterious history is here written. Stones are here whose 
dates go back to periods just follo^\ing the destruction of the Jewish 
temple under Titus. The several tribes are here. The urn tells of 
Levi ; the vine of Israel ; the double hand of Aaron. So here they 
lie, the quick and the dead waiting together, to join in their own 
particular ranks in the procession of the great day. Unchanged 
have they thus waited, proclaiming how, over all the intermediate 


aud subordinate circlings of Providence, the divine purpose in its 
great lines of redemption aud retribution marches on constant and 
unvaried. Here, as it were at this witness box, are the living and 
the dead, summoned to attest by evidence in itself a miracle, the 
truth of the divine word. 

"F. W." 


" Supposing Philadelphia to have its streets widened by one-half, 
and its houses covered with a whitish-brown plaster, you have a 
fair idea of Berlin. No continental city — except, perhaps, ^Munich 
— is half so American looking, because no continental city of any- 
thing like the same size is by any means so new, and so adapted 
to business purposes. We no longer meet those vast but gloomy 
palaces, whose internal splendor but illy atones for their darkened 
exterior and iron-latticed windows. AA'e no longer see the houses 
of the poor crowded so closely on their crooked lanes, that their 
upper stories almost touch. The picturesque old roof that beetles 
over the street, the quaiut bow-windows, the short and crooked 
alleys, here give way to square houses, l)uilt in the most practical 
modern style, upon long and ^\ide streets, crossing each other 
most!}' at right angles. I do not wonder that these, that the very 
outside of Berlin, make Americans feel themselves at home. 

" But there are other reasons why Berlin, especially for theologi- 
cal students, has peculiar advantages. That wild student-spirit, 
which is so dominant in the rural universities, and which makes 
the beer-cellar, the senate chamber by which an inexorable public 
opinion is pronounced, loses here its intolerance. It is, of course, 
just as easy to be rowdy here as it is elsewhere, but it is also easy 
to be quiet and orderly, to dress like a citizen, and neither to drink 
beer nor smoke pipes. And, besides this, the theological faculty 
is eminent for its ability, its orthodoxy, and its catholicity. To 
spend one year here, I am convinced, would to many minds bring 
peculiar theological and literary advantages, and to very few would 
present those dangers which arise from the latitudinarianism of 
most of the other German theological schools. So far, indeed, as 
concerns latitudinarianism of interpretation, the danger is very 
little. On this question Hengstenberg is here supreme ; and I 


presume there is no living theologian whose views, as to inspira- 
tion and authenticity, are more rigid and uncompromising. 

" You ask as to the expense. It is much lower than you would 
suppose. Furnished rooms, equal to tlie best of those of our 
American seminaries, can be had for from $6 to $7 a month. 
Meals ought not to cost more than $2.50 a week, for living in this 
respect is very low and very comfortable. The expense for lec- 
tures is about $20 for the winter. I am clear, however, that no 
one should come over without having first learned enough of the 
language to enable him at least to read fluently. 

" The American element among the students is large and grow- 
ing. Last year there were forty Americans attending the lectures. 
— The indications are that this year there will be sixty. Nor is 
the American religious element idle. A prayer meeting of Ameri- 
can residents is held weekly. A little chapel, Mhich will hold over 
an hundred seats, is open for American religious services every 
Sunday. When clergymen arc in attendance — and there is in this 
respect no denominational limitation — there is service every after- 
noon. When such is not the case, the American Ambassador, 
Gov. Wright, conducts a Biljle class, which during this summer 
averaged twenty. I cannot, indeed, let this opportunity pass with- 
out paying tribute to the Christian fidelity, as well as to the personal 
liberality and hr)spitality by which the American legation at Berlin 
is distinguished. 

"One other movement in the missionary way will perliaps strike 
you with surprise. Both here and at Bremen there is a regularly 
established mission of the Methodist Episcopal Church. At 
Bremen there is a publishing office which sells books to the amount 
of $30,000 annually, and a church which is very largely attended. 
Here there is a Sunday school every Sunday morning, German 
service every Sunday evening, and two German lectures during the 


" Ho«', you may ask, docs this introduction of a new Protestant 
communion accord witli tiie alleged intolerance of the Prussian 
established church? As the answer to this involves points of 
much practical as well as theoretical interest, permit me to say one 
or two words beforehand by way of explanation. The Protestant 


Church at the Et'formatioi),as is well known, was divided into two 
great bodies. The first of these, the Lutheran, or, as it styled 
itself, the Evangelical, held to a view of the sacraments and of 
church authority, which was more or less tinged with what we now 
would call sacramentarianism. The second, the Calvinistic, or 
Reformed, ascribed to the sacraments no inherent power, rejected 
the idea of bodily presence altogether, and denied to the visible 
church the possession of supernatural vii-tue. Both held with 
equal vigor what we call the doctrines of grace ; both used lan- 
guage in reference to predestination which we now would call 
highly Calvinistic, both held to the validity of Presbyterian ordi- 

" I need not refer to the distressing controversies between these 
bodies. It is enough now to say that, for at least two centuries, 
statesmen as well as divines have been active in the effort to heal 
a breach which seemed so disastrous to the common cause. Fore- 
most in this work stood the electors of Brandcnbin-g, afterwards 
kings of Prussia, who attached themselves to the Reformed body. 
At last Frederick William III. took the occasion of the freeing of 
the country from the French yoke, to issue the celebrated proclama- 
tion of September 27, 1817, invoking a union of the two confessions 
on the approaching centennial celebration of the Reformation. The 
proposition was accepted by the Reformed in Prussia almost unani- 
mously, and by the Lutheran Synod of Berlin by a large majority. 
In several of the minor German States (Baden included) the ex- 
ample was followed. 

" So far as this union was voluntary, and so far as it tolerated 
the continued existence of other forms of belief, it was a great step 
in advance. But, unfortunately, the new churcli undertook not 
merely to invite, but compulsorily to annex, the adherents of other 
creeds. The old High-Church Lutherans ^^•e^e the first who re- 
volted at what they considered a very latitudinarian amalgamation. 
Had they been let alone, all would have been right. But of all 
immoderate things, the most immoderate is compulsory moderation. 
So, first one old High-Church I^utheran minister was fined because 
he would not use the litui'gy, and another was imprisoned because 
he was fractious in Synod. The consequence was, that instead of 
there being tim communions, as before, there were three — the 
Union, the Old Reformed, and the Old Lutheran. 


"In 1840, however, Frederick William lA"., under much wiser 
counsels, recognized and licensed the Old Lutherans as an indepen- 
dent church. Tliis was preceded by a decree declaring that the 
union did not aljsorb the two confessions, but that each continued 
to retain its distinct autliority and integrity. And now, by a very 
recent decree, all the obligatory laws, requiring the education of 
children in the State Church, are cancelled. Ho\\- this, at present, 
works, I will take auother period to state. 

"F. W." 


" Berlin is the site of the central Deaconess Institute, whose 
branches are now actively and beneficently at work not merely in 
Prussia, but in the foreign missionary field. Under the S])ecial 
charge of the mother institute is the Bethany Hospital, to which I 
yesterday paid a visit. The institution was originally under royal 
control, but its management has now passed into the hands of a 
board of an unequivocally religious character. The domestic order 
of the house rests entirely with the deaconesses. As the practica- 
bility of such an arrangement as this has been largely discussed 
among ourselves, I may be pardoned for stopping to notice its 
working in the present instance. 

" One thing struck me at the outset as very remarkable. At 
Milan, a city, where of all others ecclesiastics abound, and where, 
after the battles of Magenta and Solferino, the hospitals were 
thronged with sick and wounded Roman Catholics, I went through 
wards containing several thousand patients, without seeing more 
then half a dozen Sisters of Charity. The main hospital was on a 
distinctly religious foundation, aud yet, when the inquiry as to where 
the sisters were, the answer was that they did not attend very 
largely, and that the greater part of the work was done by hired 
servants. It is otherwise, however, with the Bethany Hospital, at 
Berlin. There are here about three hundred beds, with an 
average of about two hundred aud fifty patients. On these 
sixty of the sisters are in attendance. Nor is their work purely 
sentimental. Here is the kitchen, where there is a most admirable 
application of steam to cooking. There comes a sister, and one 
whose manner and appearance show no want of refined culture. 


It is no errand of mere elegance, however, that slie is on. She has 
in her hand a hcav)- kettle, filled with the materials for soup. No 
'servants' are around to help her, though some of the heavier work 
of the outer kitchen is thus divided. She goes, however, alone to 
the large cauldron in wliich the soup for the evening is to be pre- 
pared, and there, after an amount of fetching, carrying, ladling 
and turning, which would astonish the more delicate, the little la'ke 
of soup finally seethes and boils. I could not see that the work 
was done less effectively from the fact that it was a gentlewoman 
that did it. But of oue thing I am sure. There was au air not 
only of neatness but of elegance about the work, which merely 
iiired help could not have secured. 

" So it was with the wards for the little children. One of the 
most trying things about our common hospitals, is the hardness 
with which little sick children are treated. Coleridge said that 
great reverence was due a child, as in itself, so lately from the 
Divine preseuce, as embodying so profound a mystery, as so open 
in its momentous mission, to be affected by the mere negligences of 
tliose who surround it. I could not help thinking of this when 
observing the gentle dignity of the attentions which were paid to 
this sick-nursery. Tiie self-respect of the little patients was sci'upii- 
lously preserved by the neatest surroundings. Kemarkable little 
caps, so white and snug — snowy sheets, so soberly folded down 
above and tucked in underneath — tidy little pillows, swelling out 
with that attentive and deferential look, so comforting to the 
stranger when he arrives at a strange inn — the little tables, on 
which stood little tumblers and mugs — not big ones — so that the 
little patients might feel that things were really meant for them, and 
that, friendless as they may have been before, there were those 
liere to care for them and love them, particularly, for all that 
they were so little — a little square play -ground, in tlie middle of 
tlie room, with a careful railing round it, so that the children 
might not get hurt or lost ; all these things showed a tender heart 
as well as a comprehensive and judicious mind. It is hard to see 
this, and to learn that this kind of aid is given without clashing 
with the medical authorities — is luipaid, and as such, is far more 
economical than the ordinary system of a paid help — is disconnected 
with religious or other sentimentalism — without feeling that such 
institutions as these may be safely extended eveu in our own land. 


" In one respect the bniklings of the Bethany Hospital, noble 
as they are, are inferior to those of St. Lnke's, New York. There 
the wards radiate from the cl)a])el in such a way, that divine ser- 
vice can be heard by exery patient. Here the chapel is distinct, 
and such patients only as are convalescent can attend public wor- 
ship. This difficulty, however, is obviated by the admirable 
arrangements of the deaconesses. — They hold prayer meetings, 
consisting of short family \vorship, every morning and evening 
in eacii of the several wards. Biblical instruction is given by them 
to such as are able to attend. And besides this, the whole building 
is under the general charge of a pastor, who preaches regularly and 
administers the sacraments. 


" Few points in German theology are so misunderstood as those 
A\hich relate to the position of the High Lutherans. We are apt 
to confound them with the English and American Higii Church- 
men and Sacramentarians, and to suppose that the two schools liold 
the same general views. This, however, is far from being the case. 
The High Anglican could not stand two sermons from the High 
Lutheran. I have never heard such rigid, uncompromising Cal- 
vinism as from the leading High Lutheran divines. Personal elec- 
tion — the absolute freedom of grace — the imputation of Christ's 
righteousness— justification by faith alone — the necessity of a 
miraculous change of iieart — are here set forth with a boldness 
and precision, at which there are few of our American congrega- 
tions who would not be startled. On the other hand, the sacra- 
ments are invested with a mysterious power which it is hard to 
distinguish from tlie optis opcratum of the Roman Catholics. 
Language in this respect is used, not in preaching, Init in dog- 
matic teaching, which is the same as that of the English Sacra- 
mentarians, and which is, therefore, in singular contrast with the 
highly evangelical character of the sermons generally. 

" But besides this, the High Lutheran holds the most extrava- 
gant notions of ministerial antiiority. This is not because of any 
apostolical snccession, for that he rejects. The extreme call of the 
Church, however, and the inward call of the Spirit, unite in giving 
the priest almost indefinite prerogatives. The last number of Dr. 
Heugstenberg's paper gives a discussion on the point which shows 


how liigli these ckihus are. A young clergyman, it is said, found 
his congregation becoming very shick in attendance on church. He 
went to the mayor of the viihige in order to enter a complaint. 
The mayor had on his cap, which he did not take off. ' ^\'hich 
office is tlie higher,' said the clergyman, ' that of the mayor or the 
priest?' ' The priest,' said the mayor. ' Then take off your cap, 
and direct all the village to attend church next Sunday.' The 
mayor quelled, according to the narrator, by the minister's spirit, 
did as he was told, and the next Sunday the church was filled. And 
equally authoritative was the conduct of another young minister, 
who, when he found his congregation getting up to avoid an 
obnoxious service, planted himself at the door, and told them that 
to get out they would have to go over his body. These examples, 
the editor prudently tells us, are not given for specific imitation, 
but to show what is the proper degree of ministerial pluck. 

" I am sorry to say, also, that the High Lutherans err very 
much in their treatment of other Protestant communions. The 
more uncompromising of them — the old Lutherans — hold that it 
is better to commune with a Romanist than with a C'alvinist. 
Even many of those who have entered into the union of the two 
confessions, treat tJieir Reformed brethren with supercilious dis- 

" In another point not only the High Lutherans, but the ortho- 
dox divines generally, have made a great error. They persist in 
treating liberalism in religion and liberalism in politics, as one and 
the same thing. Only the other day, at a clerical meeting in Sile- 
sia, it was declared that obedience was a Christian, independence a 
Cossack virtue. This does not hinder these nominally so submis- 
sive subjects from being excessively fractious Avhenever the govern- 
ment attempts in any way to liberalize the Church. The error, 
however, shows itself in a constant denunciation of republicanism 
and political freedom of thought. Even some of the mildest and 
best of the orthodox divines have made this mistake. Tholuck's 
unction, and Krummacher's fire, are thus occasionally misajiplied. 
The consequence has been greatly to weaken the Church by driving 
from it men of independent political ojiinion. 



"As the National or Union Church now stands, it is divided 
into three distinct parties. The first of these, or centre, embraces 
those who hold to an ex animo acceptance of such points in the 
Lutheran and Reformed confessions as are common to both, and 
to a liberty of opinion in all other points. To this class belong, I 
cannot but think, the great body of the most earnest aud faithful 
of the German divines. Among them may be mentioned Tholuck, 
Krummacher, Nitzsch, Twesten, Hoffmann, Stier, Baumgarten, 
Ullmann, Corner, Herzog and Jacobi. 

" The right wing, to adopt Dr. Schatf' s classification, includes 
the High Lutherans, who, tiiough agreeing to the union, retain 
tiieir distinctive sacramentarian and sacerdotal views, and their 
distinctive Lutlieran loyalty. The theological leader of this party 
is Hengstenberg, so well known in America for his admirable com- 
mentaries on the Old Testament, and his vigorous and unflinching 
vindication of the integrity and inspiration of the Holy Text. 
With him are Stahl, eminent as the most retrogressively conserva- 
tive of Prussian jurists and statesmen ; Goschel, a layman of 
marked talent, and Biichsel, a most genial man and faithful 
preacher, who now holds the important jiost of General Superin- 
tendent (Bishop) at Berlin. The King, during the last years of his 
administration, was much induced to favor this party, with whose 
political views he agreed. The present Prime Regent, however, 
has taken decided ground against them, and it is not likely that 
Higli Lutheranism will retain tiie ascendancy it had reached before 
the King's abdication. Ou the other hand, the young men in the 
Church drift very much in this direction. There is an enthusiasm 
and singleness about Hengstenberg vvhich is very attractive to an 
earnest-minded student. His ascendancy here is shown by the fact 
that while four hundred often attend his lectures, not more than a 
dozen are present at those of his semi-rationalistic associate, who 
lectures on the same tojiics at the same hour. 

" The left wing includes the latitudinarians, who may be likened 
to the extreme Broad Churchmen of the Maurice school in England. 
At the head of tliis party Bunsen, I am sorry to say, has now 
placed himself. — With him, though representing different degrees of 
religious and political liberalism, are Krause and Count Schwerin. 


Dr. Jonas, whose death occurred hist week, was a leader of this 

" It is from the last school alone that I should apprehend any 
deleterious influence on American students. However illiberal the 
political views of the two former may be, they cannot aftect the 
practical experience of any right-minded American, or imjjress him 
with the truth of government y»/-e divino. And they unite in teach- 
ing the doctrines of grace with an emphasis and positiveness which 
American divines would do well to study. No American student 
can be hurt in his politics by attending the Conservative lectures ; 
many Americans would be injured in their religion by attending 
those of the Liberals. 

"the brothers of the rough-house. 

" In my last letter I gave you a sketch of half a day in the life of 
the boys in the Kough-House of Hamburg. How, is tlie question 
you would naturally put, are these boys managed ? These twelve 
or fifteen families, each containing twelve or fifteen boys — boys, 
many of them with no previous training but what was bad — who 
cares for them, guides tiiem with sure hand and eye, and leads 
them, not merely in the way of order and improvement, but in the 
way of life? And then these groups of boy-laborers — of little 
carpenters, cobblers, bakers, \Aeavers, tailors — who leads flwm f In 
all these studies you prescribe who are the teachers ? Who ai-e, the 
rare men who are capable of keeping together in harmonious work- 
ing, parts so numerous and distinct, so that all the advantages of 
the most complete individualism are secured, with all tlie order and 
energy of an efficient centralism ? 

" Now ask the boys of the Rough-House who cares for them — 
who, in each family is father, teacher, nurse and friend, and vou 
will hear one shout ' the Brother.' And ask these brothers them- 
selves who they are, and you hear the following reply, which I 
translate from their own words : 

" ' We, the here assembled brothers, come from all c(»rners of 
our dear Fatherland. Our home is in Prussia, in Baden, in 
Bavaria, in Hesse, in Wiirtemberg, in Thuringen, in Hanover, in 
Mecklenberg, in Holstein, and in Schleswig. There is not one of 
us who before we came here was not in condition to earn his daily 
bread, whether as teacher or mechanic, as farmer or merchant, or 

144 MEMOm OF 

in ^\•llateve^• other station he was placed. "Want ilid not lead us to 
the Rough-House. But when in our distant homes, we read and 
heard of the work the Lord has here begun and continued, we 
prayed that we ourselves might be allowed to take part in the 
blessing and in the work. So one house-father has called us here 
as his helps in this labor. And no one of us has olieyed this call 
without his parent's blessing. 

" ' Gold or laud has none of us l)rought to tlie Rough-House ; 
and when some of us could and would have done so, wiser counsels 
than those of our own declined to receive the gift. What we all 
have, however, that we do give, our whole selves as thank-offerings 
to God. Whatever we may have learned, whatever inner or outer 
skill or handiness any of us has acquired, or may acquire here, 
that is here dedicated to the service of the boys of the Rough- 
House, to whom we would be as brothei-s, and this until he who 
called us here will send us forth in the name of the Lord, who will 
open the way in which we are to walk. So do we here stand with 
our house-father and the whole Rough-House in one faith in Jesus 
Christ, our Saviour and Lord. We are but unprofitable servants ; 
Christ is our righteousness, his woixl alone is the light f)f our feet. 
We are not our own but his, and serve him, although in all meek- 
ness, yet in that truth and hope which he never refuses to those 
who ask. In this faith and s])irit we are one, and hold ourselves as 
dear brothers in the faith, and in the labors that are presented to us.' 
" Here it is that we find the impulse that brings and keeps these 
brothers together. The nerve of the \\hole lies in the positive and 
resolute Christian character, both of the body and of the individual 
members. The unity of the movement springs from a living faith 
in Christ, and in a practical application of the doctrine of the com- 
munion of saints, not merely with the present, but the absent. 

" The brotherhood of the Rough-House now consists of about 
two hundred, of whom from thirty to forty are on an average re- 
tained in the institution to labor among the children, and to prepare 
for similar missions outside. Let us, in order to understand the 
movement more fully, view first 


" Go fii-st to the gtirden, and there you will find, in separate cot- 
tages, groups of from five to seven brothers domiciled together. 


Each of these distinct lionies are governed by fixed rnles, its in- 
mates doing all household work with tlieir own hands. One 
brother takes the lead in the household management, and is respon- 
sible therefor; another, who is called the ' Family Brother,' is the 
leader of tiie groups of from twelve to fifteen boys, who are col- 
lected in the same house. The ' Family Brother' is brought into 
close relationship with the boys, being with them by day and night, 
at their meals, at their work, at their play. Besides this, they lead 
the boys both in their work and in their studies. Be it spinning, 
shoemaking, j)i'inting ; be it cyphering, writing, or the sciences, 
there a brother presides in each group, learning by teaching, and 
not only keeping the school in Christian harmony and development, 
but fitting himself for his own future mission. 


" From the report of 1856 I gather the following details of tlie 
fields in which the brothers who have left the institution are now 
laboring : — 

173 in tlie nian:ijreiiieiit of house? of refuge. 
50 in work, and poor-houses. 
38 as city missionaries, of whom tliere are representatives in New York ami 

New Orleans. 
23 in orphan houses. 

83 as moral instructors or wardens in prisons. 
14 as nurses in hospitals. 
65 as teachers. 
67 in other capacities, among which are colporteurs, and emigrant missions in 

America, where nine of the wlmlc number are now laboring. 

"The objectionalile features of the Romish fraternities are re- 
moved from that of the Rough-House. There is here no vow of 
obedience or of celibacy. There is a jjcrfect liberty to give up the 
mission, whenever a brother thinks it best. It speaks veiy strongly 
however, for the faitli and spirit of self-denial and mutual love of 
the brothers of tiie Rough-House, tiiat very few have given up the 
work. One or two reasons may explain tliis. One is the ardent 
piety and faith with which tlie whole institution is charged. Under 
this we may notice the admirable mechanism Dr. Wichern has here 
jjut in action. He is the centre of an active correspondence which 
binds to the common home the brothers engaged in works of out- 
side mercy. He receives the numerous applications for aid which 


are made to him from all quarters of Cliristendom, and he details 
to each specific duty tlie brother whom he thinks best fitted for it. 
Without liis assent the post cannot be resigned, and then the brother 
thus at large returns to the Common Home to be again recommis- 
sioned. Even in a purely worldly point of view, the system is very 
advantageous to the capable and industrious. The recommendation 
from the Rough-House authorities secures the confidence of the 
M'hole religious and charitable community. Such is the trust in 
them, and particularly in the exactness and the conscientiousness 
of Dr. ^Vichern's supervision, that the most important posts con- 
nected with the charities of Europe now seek their acceptance. 

" Let me give an illustration of the beneficent working of the 
Rough-House brotherhood. In 1848 Upper Silesia was devastated 
by an epidemic typhus fever. Death and misery entered nearly 
every household. The heart of all Germany was touched. ]\Ioney 
came in liberally, but this was not enough. There were the sick to 
be nursed, and the widows and fatherless to be cared for. Dr. 
Wichern called the brothers then at the Central home together, 
and asked which of them would go with him to this work. All 
craved to go, but only ten were necessary, and ten were selected. 
A great work of mercy at once was opened. Tlie villages were 
crowded with the sick and dying. Thousands of orphans were 
Avandering helpless tlirough the land. So great was the pestilence 
that luindreds were at one time buried in a common grave. There 
the brothers of the Rough-House found their place. There fin- 
months they labored, and they brought health to the sick and solace 
to the desolate. They organized hospitals where the first were cared 
for, and asylums where the latter fi)und a home. And they have 
received one of the rarest recompenses which religious history 
records. Within the very jurisdiction of the Church of Rome, 
evangelical orphan-houses were established, two of which remain 
to this day under the control of the brothers of the Rough-House. 
Christian loveliness and zeal so far conquered sectarian prejudice, 
that a Romish community placed its chief charities in Protestant 

" I must now close with noticing one feature about the Rough- 
House brotherhood which affected me very deeply. It is the inter- 
cessory prayer which they keep up among themselves. ' Through 
God's grace,' says Dr. Wichern, ' this has never failed.' I have 


already noticed the intercessory j)rayers in the school at large. But 
besides this, there is a solemn communion in prayer of all the 
brothers, pi-esent or absent, on the first of each month. Those in 
the Brother-House assemble in the Hall, those elsewhere in 
solitude before the throne of grace. There they intercede, ' one 
for another, and all for all.' There special prayers arise for each 
brother by name. And once a year, on Good Friday, and on the 
first Sunday in Advent, the same solemnities are observed at the 
Holy Communion. 

"F. W." 

"Rome, November 14th, 1859. 
" My DEAR : 

" I am afraid that you will find the accompanying copy of ' Hil- 
lard's Italy' a good deal the worse for wear. I made it a guide- 
book, for which purpose I think it is next to Murray. 

"I think you will find in Rome a great deal of real practical in- 
terest and value. I hope you will not entirely reject Murray. If 
you will stand on the tower on- the Capitol Hill with Murray's 
plan of the Forum in your hand, you will be able to trace out the 
whole profile of the ancient buildings. It is a siglit which hours 
can be well spent on, in successive days. With this I think it will 
be well to take the last chapters of Gibbon's ' Decline and Fall,' 
which treat of the various changes in the Forum. The streets hei'e 
are even worse than those of Florence. I do not think that a lady 
can walk in them without an escort. And then the dirt ! Bad as 
Florence is, I think that Rome in this respect carries off the palm, 
from the very audacity and intrusiveness of its filth. 

" I think also you will find it useful to visit the Reading Room 
and Circulating Libi'ary at Piale's, in the Piazza di Spagna. The 
books are not very numerous, but are well-chosen, and are, I 
think, particularly adapted to the study of Roman history and 

" With all the charms of Europe, and all the peculiar artistic 
and historic interest of Rome, I long to get back to our own 
America, where at least we find religious earnestness. What there 
is here, is merely ascetic, and is in the Church of Rome. It is a 
sad thing to see how careless the great body of the Protestants are. 
Last Sunday the whole hotel, with fifty or sixty English and 


Americans, was out sight-seeing, with a few — very few — excep- 
tions. It is a place, I thinii, that requires peculiar Matching of 
the heart. 

" Very truly yours, 

"F. AV." 

"On board the ' Abago.' 
"Dec. 13th, 1859. 
" My dear : 

"I suppose you are by this time enjoying yourselves in Rome. 
I send 3^ou by this mail a few of the late ' Recorders,' and I canuot 
help wishing, notwithstanding my unabated Americanism, that I 
could somehow be mailed with the jJapers, and turn up with them 
for a few days at Rome. Of all European cities it is the richest, 
and the one which I am sure you will most enjoy. The Vatican is 
worth a week's study by itself — I hope you will particularly visit 
the Christian gallery at the Lateran. The contrast between the 
simplicity and Gospel purity of the inscriptions, and the tawdry 
superstition of those in the churches, is well worth study. I hope 
also that you will visit the cemeteries lately opened in the Appian 
Way. I have seen few things which so vividly reproduced the 
old Roman customs. 

" I was very much surprised to learn a short time since, in a 
way which did not admit of much dispute, of a positive evangelical 
movement in Florence. Prayer meetings are held periodically, 
and religious services on Sunday. Even the 'Times,' which has 
heretofore so much queried the truth of such statements, and has 
taken so skeptical a view of religion generally, admits that the 
movement is a real one. I found, also, on paying a visit to Basle 
a few days since, that a similar movement, only far more widely 
spread, is extending in Wiii'temberg. The persons interested do 
not dissent from the established church, which there is Lutheran, 
but is very dry, but worship inside of it, holding social meetings 
at such times as do not interfere with the regular services, as was 
the way with the early Wesleyaus. So earnest is the foreign mis- 
sionary spirit with them, that they have as many as twenty young 
men, springing from their midst, who are preparing for the work 
of foreign missionaries. I must say that the Basle seminary, where 
these young men are studying, was one of the most delightful spots 


I visited in Europe To-morrow we rcaeli Soiithamptou. 

At present we are about half way across the channel, and are medi- 
tating (or at least the captain is, with the aid of some thirty or forty 
of the passengers), chartering a small steamer, and visiting the Great 
Eastern. But it looks now as if we might have quite a breeze, and 
if so, I suspect some at least of the party will give out. At all 
events, I will have the opportunity of mailing this note and a copy 
of the latest ' Eccorder.' There is a growing swell on the channel, 
though tiie ' Arago' certainly moves less under her machinery than 
any boat I ever was in. Still I realize that even in the ' Ai-ago' it 
is possible to feel a little dizzy, — and that even were writing easy, 
reading afterwards might ]>e very difficult. 

" Very sincerely yours, 

"F. W." 

Shorth' after his return from Europe he became engaged to a 
daughter of Lewis E. Ashiuu-st, Esq., of Phjladelphia, and was 
married on December 27th of the same year (1860). 

Some letters he wrote in anticipation of this event will show the 
cheerful and playful tone he imparted to daily life, and also give 
an idea of his occupatious and surmuudings at Gamljier. 



LIFE AT CtAMBIER. — (Concluded.) 

"Monday, Sep. 3d, '60. 

" My dear : 

" I am writing a few lines in the cars to say that I am qnite 
^vell — almost the better for my indisposition of yesterday. The 
day is very lovely. The sunlight forms a golden flood on the 
Susquehanuah, by whose banks we are travelling. It is now 
about 4, and in a few minutes we shall reach Harrisburg, and 
then comes the mountain scenery. We shall reach Pittsburg about 

one o'clock in the morning 

" Friday. 

" I arrived at Mt. Vernon very pleasantly and safely at 4 o'clock 
yesterday aft. The towers and spires of the little town were glit- 
tering gaily as we steamed up; but a brighter sight to my mundane 
eyes, was my carriage and horses. I would like to introduce to 
you the latter characters. They are very stylish and gay, of a 
dark brown, and only colts. Red Jacket, the younger, being but 
four and Dick, the elder, but Jive. Jacket, I am sorry to say, 
is bv no means a grave horse. Perhaps it may be his youth or 
perhaps it may be his levity of spirits, but however this is, he has 
a remarkable number of fancy steps which without making him 
dangerous to drive, attracts to him very greatly public attention. 
This summer, he and his brother took country boarding, and have 
returned in great beauty and fine spirits — Red Jacket having 
learned at his watering place an entirely new figure — a figure I 
am sorry to say approaching to a waltz. But I can assure you, you 
will Ix' able to drive them with perfect ease. I found Gambler 
lookino- very lovely. There had been heavy rain, and the grass 
had started up green and fresh. I feel bound to say also, that 
Franz, my German gardener, has done his vacation much credit. 
The house is almost covered with vines and flowers, and a bed of 


Cannas have grown up into most showy and imposing plants. The 
house stands on the side of a hill — about one-sixtii of the way 
down. In front of it is a river. The view from the front porch 
is really beautiful. It looks directly west, and has a sunset view 
of several miles of hills. Directly back are the College buildings, 
pictures of which I propose to send you in a few days. How do 

you all do at C. H ? I suppose this will reach you Monday 

or Tuesday. I can picture you all collected in the parlor on Sunday 
afternoon, vour father reading one of those admirable sermons. 
Tell him I rarely felt more impressed than with those exercises. 
Perhaps it is from my Low Church proclivities, but I have a great 
liking for lay-services. For myself, though I have a great prefer- 
ence for the INIinistry, yet my work is here. I can act more 
impressively perhaps on young men than on any other class. But 
I need vour prayers and my own for greater fidelity and zeal. 
" How can we live at this poor dying rate?" 

"Gambier, Sep. 9, "60. 
" When I last wrote I was just about going to dinner on Friday. 
It was a very warm afternoon, and I felt very ' mundane.' I was 
quite cheered up however, by the intelligence brought me by one 
of the servants that Bp. and Mrs. Bedell had come, and wanted 
me to come over and take some ice cream with them — of course I 
went, though it did not need this to tempt me. I found them 
very cheerful and kind. Mrs. Bedell I think you will particularly 
like. Both she and her husband arc full of hopeful plans for the 
College. I have rarely seen more noble Christians. Though she 
has a large estate, they spare themselves in no way, travelling more 
than half the time, and undergoing all kinds of fatigue. They are 
not without, however, the elegancies of life — a fine piano with 
melodeon attachment having arrived for them yesterday. Did I 
tell you of our mishap in the vegetable line? Franz, the gardener, 
has been exerting himself to the utmost in the production of vege- 
tables — beans, cauliflowers, tomatoes. All his German arts were 
concentrated on this, his first American garden. Unfortunately, 
however, several fine apple trees were in the garden. Some of the 
school boys of the neighborhood, finding this out, proceeded to the 
scene on nights, and left the gate open. A coterie of cows was visit- 
ing in the neighborhood, and finding the gate open, they sauntered in. 


Xothiug was more natural than for tliem to turn to the vegetables. — 
First came a snip at the tomatoes, then the Lima beans, and then 
a touch of cauliflower. I do not know what was the eflect on the 
milk of the neighborhood, but one thing is clear, my vegetables 
are finished. One comfort however, is, Elizabeth had previously 
put up an extraordinary amount of canned fruit and vegetables. 
If a siege were expected, greater industry could scarcely have been 
shown. Now peaches are the great standby. The country is bear- 
ing them in great profusion. Monday we got six bushels — all 
of which are in glass jars. Now, I hope you will not think that I 
am dwelling too much on terrestrial things, but I am determined to 
have everything very bright in the future, if my efforts can make 
them so. 

" I beg leave to add a suggestion of a prudential cliaracter. — If 
you put off coming till mid-winter, the house will be so full there 
will be no gettiug into it. Though I have said nothing to the 
servants about comiug events, they iiave been seized with a most 
extraordinary passion for storing and preserving, till the house is 
beginning to look like a provision store. You ought to see the 
elosets — like little organ lofts, fluted with bottles of brown toma- 
toes, green peas, and yellow peaches ranged in rows for the sake of 
svmmetry. Last week I obtained a number of new flowers, which 
Franz assures me will bloom in Jan. or Feb. — But how little the 
conservatory looks ! and how badly arranged for ladies' dresses ! 
The only passage it has is so constructed that nothing like a skirt 
can pass through it without flirting against a number of infant 
fuchsias and verbenas, most of whom are anything Init l)ig enough 
to be improved by a knock." 

" Gajibier, Sop. iitli. 
" What do you think of a fire so early ? I have an open fii-e in 
the Library, and am sitting by it not at all impressed by the un- 
congeniality of the bright sun without and the blazing hearth 
within. The mountain air, of which we have a touch, is fresh and 
crisp, tho' not cold, and the wood fire is a sort of companion. The 
other companions ai-ound the house are entirely of the silent order. 
Over the mantel-piece is an engraving of Milton sitting at a table, 
writing as Secretary for Oliver Cromwell. Milton is festooned 
around with a series of minor characters, among whom may be 


mentioned Napoleon, the Rev. Mv. Cooper, St. Jerome, Brother 
Holden, and Bishop Mcllvaine. The walls are covered with book 
cases, containing some thousands of voliimcs.^ — •' As I glance my 
eye aronnd them, I find on my left hand, an alcove of light read- 
ing,' a taste for which you know is my weakness. — Then come 
biographies and histories — then theological treatises — then sermons 
— then ecclesiastical histories — then Biblical commentaries — then 
periodicals — then encyclopwdiasand dictionaries — then text-books. 
— But do not think from this very dull enumeration that the col- 
lection is dull. It is not; on the contrary it is much diversified 
and has a good many elements of vivacity — and to increase this a 
series of very gay water-color paintings are hung over the alcoves 
lightening extremely the usual sombreness of a library." — 

"Nkwakk, St'p. 15tli. 

" This morning I laid out to give Franz an experience in practical 
gardening. His German ideas do not quite enable him to work in 
American style. It so happens there is a gentleman in Newark 
(about 20 miles from G.), who is an accomplished agriculturist. So 
I made arrangements to meet him, and ordered the horses at half- 
past six. The drive that was to begin at half-past six saw eiglit 
before we started, but it was very lieautiful — over a country yellow 
Avith corn husks, and that Indian summery haze. A ' lady' having 
directed us to go the 'right' when she meant 'left' caused us much 
delay, Imt at last we reached N. While Franz is scourging him- 
self over the very superior ' ivrbcnas' he sees, I sit doM-n to write 
to you .... you say there is ' nothing to say' about your cold, I 
hope it says nothing for itself in the way of coughing and bron- 
chitis. — .... On Monday mc hope to return laden witii cuttings, 
etc. Do not expect too much from the greenhouse. Its main 
advantage is that it opens directly from the dining-room, making 
a sort of continuation of that less sentimental apartment. Mrs. 
Bedell gave me a book yesterday that I found very atti-active.* 
' The preciousness of God's Word.' Do get it and read it. May 
we follo%\- its leadings and do or suffer His will as He appoints. 

" I found everything in G. in good oi'der, but it was well that 

[* Dr. Octavius Winslow.] 

154 , MEMOIR OF 

I arrived. Both of my substitutes bad surrendered tiieir posts. 
Their books, etc., were lying on my table, and also the key of my 
room, indicating that if /did not go that afternoon, >io6oc/i/ would. 
Now as this would produce a disarrangement of the whole college, 
a thing which would have been afterwards remembered, I felt that 
it was a happy thing that I arrived, trying as it was for me to 
start. The servants had taken advantage of my absence to make 
a thorough house-cleaning. In the hall, parlor, and library, carpets 
were down and a winter transformation in the bed-rooms. Stoves 
stick out their ugly faces where before there was nothing but the 
serene marble of the mantel-pieces. I am sorry to say the grounds 
are also changed. They are looking very forlorn, with a jaded, 
dilapidated expression, like a set of oldish young ladies after a ball. 
Only the prim * imoiiels,' as Franz calls them (chrysanthemums), 
hold up their sjjry, crisp little yellow heads as if in righteous dis- 
dain of their fragile sistei's. The greenhouse has however afibrded 
a place of refuge for some of the sisterhood, and they look un- 
commonly well in this shelter. The arrivals from Mt. H — were 
received at first with mute politeness — afterwai"ds with respectful 
admiration ; the Begonia is pronounced very interesting and peculiar, 
and the cactus with a flower hitched to it like a label on a piece of 
goods, entirely new in our collection. Coming events, I suspect, 
cast their shadow or rather their sunlight before — ; the servants 
I suspect have an inkling from their extraordinary activity. 

"Where do you think I have been to-day? What will you say 
W'hen Bp. Bedell, Mrs. B. and myself have been at what it seems 
was a ' Horse race !' The truth is, this week is the County Agri- 
cultural Fair, in which all the farmers of the neighborhood are 
expected to be present with their stock. Now the stock contains 
some marvellous items. Cows, horses, and pigs you might expect, 
but what do you say to pictures by native artists of Niagara, and 
extraordinary specimens of needle work from Samplers by children 
of six years in the oddest perspective ! Now it is a sort of county 
esprit de corps that everybody should encourage this Fair, so we 
all concluded to drive there too. Yesterday, the servants at my 
house had holiday to go. Elizabeth and Eliza being dressed up in 
grand style, and Franz in a suit of black broadcloth, with musta- 
chios au Victor Emmanuel, driving them in the open wagon. In 
consequence of this evacuation, I dined with Mrs. Bedell, and 


to-day, licr servants makiug a similar detour, Mrs. Bcdoll and the 
Bishop dined with me. But before dinner we determined to drive 
into the Fair ourselves. And I regret to say that we happened 
just at the hour — not of wholesome exhibition of cows and pigs, 
sheep and pumpkins — but of regular races. For it seems that 
even the neighborhood of Gambier is not considered too severe for 
the entrance of a party of sporting characters from the East who 
brought their horses with them, on pretext of trial of speed, but 
really for a race ! What would you have thought of our watching 
the proceeding, and \vondering' how a horse exhibition could assiuue 
such exciting dimensions, and finally wondering if the ' exhibition' 
were not a race ? But I am afraid I am writing what is scarcely 
worth reading. ... I hope to be with you on Wcd'y. 

" Ever y'rs, 

"F. AV." 

" October 21st. 
" This is a gloomy wet day, but it is Sunday for all, and it has 
therefore its own comforts. With me they are very precious. 
First come the early morning prayers at which it is my turn to 
officiate. Then I have a Bible Class of Freshmen — from 15 to 20 
students, and which I feel is one of ray most valued jjrivileges. 
This morning I took up the parables — treating them analytically. 
The topic I began with was the power of the kingdom of sin, both 
within and without, illustrating this by, 1st, the parable in refer- 
ence to the unwashed hands ; 2d, that about the light of the body 
being the eye, and 3d, that of the strong man bound. I endea- 
voured to use these so as to shew the subjective power of sin and 
the objective power of Satan. I trust the effect was not without 
use. As to preaching we are well off .... Mr. C. preaches only 
once a day. He is just beginning, however, for Thursday evenings, 
a course of lectures on Genesis, which I trust you will hear before 
they are through. May they be bles.sed to the conversion of souls ! 
I am just reading a book which I will send with this, ' Phelps' 
Still Hour.' It strikes me not only as exquisitely beautiful — but 
as hitting some of the weak points in our religious character. 
Oh for grace to live more holily and prayerfully !" 


"October 24th. 
" ^\'e have had such glorious weather in the last day or two, as 
to make a rural contrast not at all to the disadvantage of Gambier. 
This dav and yesterday have been so warm as to make fires un- 
necessary — and to give the open air almost irresistible charms. I 
have lieen improving it by having a new walk built. Quite a 
little jiiece of woods has been added to my grounds. I have been 
liaving these thinned away, and Franz's skill has been exercised in 
drawing a walk to be gravelled over and shaded for winter dry- 
ness and summer coolness. I liave in ray own dumb way been 
giving suggestions on the subject, whicli, however, Franz, in his 
superiority, does not always respect. Still the work progresses, 
and by November will be finished enough for practical use. I 
have been doing a little reading and reviewing m the last few 
davs. Milman's ' History of Latin Xtianity' which (with Mr. P.'s 
lielp), I have been writing a notice of, is very attractive in the His- 
torv line — well worthy of study, and fully capable of jjrovokiug it, 
although he is rather hard upon our friends, the Calvinists. I 
regret to say also, that I degraded myself last night by reading 
through a novel ; though I saw at the outset that it was weak and 
silly. It is by Dr. Holland, and is called ' Miss Gilbert's Career.' 
The beginning had a sort of agreeable levity about it, wliich 
rather led me on, getting more disgusted, however, from page to 
page and yet with that perversity we sometimes have holding on 
to the end. Then think of my going back to Goldsmith ! ]\Iy 
college lectures, in the last few days, have led me in this direction, 
and vesterday evening, I took a really comforting read of the De- 
serted Village. How touchingly homelike and true it is ! and 
how Goldsmith with retrospective touclies of home life has been 
witiiout a rival. And what a contrast he is to the hard sardonic 
tone of Swift, whom I have taken up concurrently. The bell is 
just ringing for evening prayers. Bro. C. has taken up Genesis, but 
not in such a profoundly learned a way as to disturb the popular 

mind And now I am just come from there somewhat tired 

■witii a rather statistical summary of the details of the Pentateuch. 
We landed a great musical genius at the Hill during the last few 
davs — a Mr. Alfred Pease, an old student of the College who has 
been spending some two years at Berlin, where I met him last fall. 
He is an extremely brilliant pianist, and I invited the College 


baud, and tliu several musicians on the Hill to meet him last uight, 
niv i)iauo being about the best on the Hill. Tliey all came, about 
40 in number. As this is Sunday, I will put off telling you about 

it until to-morrow 

" Ever yours, 

" F. W." 

" The bundle arrived safely, and greatly did I wonder wiiat it 
■was. First I looked at the post-mark, whieh was greatly like 
Mont ]\rotlin (the Queen of Spain's brother-in-law) ; and I wondered 
for a moment what so new a post-mark could have to do with 
so imposing a bundle. But I soon opened it, cautiously and re- 
spectfully, and the moment the green worsted appeared I knew 
what it was. Now, first as to the bag. It certainly is better than 
it would have been if it had preserved its original dimensions. 
Now it is abundantly large enough. This morning at eleven it is 
to make its first trip to college, having depositee! in it two or three 
volumes of Addison, and as many of Johnson. The two latter 
authors form the topics of my morning lectures. 

" Dreary, wet weather ! I do wonder whether you are having 
the same ! My cows are quite vindictive with disgust at the rain, 
and stand with their noses in the corners. Prince also has deserted 
his usual place for relaxation, which was in the centre of the grass 
plot, and has taken his bone (he is not allowed to eat meat, and his 
bone is merely symbolical), under the caves of the wood-house. Paul 
Morphy (the cat), I regret to say, got into the greenhouse last night 
and must have danced a polka up and down one of the shelves, for 
six plants were knocked over, and an air plant had half its ringlets 
torn out, probably by Morphy's claws. I told you I would give 
you an acpount of my musical party of Saturday evening. I in- 
vited Mr. Pease to spend the evening, promising to invite the 

musical genius of G to meet him. To keep the number from 

being too large, I confined it to thej'oung people, undertaking my- 
self to act as 'matron' to the voung ladies. The result was three- 

" 1st. The College band, which is entirely instrumental, and con- 
sists of about eight. 

" 2nd. The College choir, which is vocal, and has about the same 


" 3d. The village young ladies — distinguished for amiability. 

" Then, as to the performance. First, a series of dashing pieces 
from Mr. Pease, as the I^ion of the evening. Then followed Mr. 
Houghout, another piano player, a student here, and with great 
musical talent. Then the College band retired to the porch for 
the purpose of giving softness to their instruments, and serenaded 
the young ladies through the windows. Then came supper, in 
which Elizabeth, who was suffering at the time with rheumatism, 
lashed herself into peculiar activity, for the purpose, she said, of 
showing how a sick old w'oman could cook. Then, after supper, 
]\Ir. Pease played again, and then came some sacred music (vocal) 
from the College choir. Family prayers w'as the finale, at which I 
was heartily glad to close the day tpiictly." 

" Friday morning — . 
" This is, I suspect, going to be a short letter (with me a rarity). 
Nothing could be more placid than the current of the last week 
socially. After the musical effort of last Saturday nothing can be 
expected for some time, but the usual routine of lectures, church 
and driving. I took Dr. C. a long and pleasant drive of from ten 
to fifteen miles yesterday, finding him quite, confidential and very 
intelligent. So you are almost alone at C. H. This, in the Spring, 
is comparatively pleasant, but I think that a solitary house in the 
Fall is doubly solitary. Everything here looks so dreary that I 
am glad you will not see it for the first time, as it is. Winter, 
with all its grimness, is better than this sad, dishevelled state of 
things, just as a real fine head of gray hair is preferable to a wig. 
I am afraid however it will look rather stern. The walks in par- 
ticular have a ragged look — inside, however, all is cheerful and 
bright. The bituminous coal aids in this and the carpets and fur- 
niture have a very home-like look. But still to some extent the 
life is a missionary life ! May God give us grace to faithfully dis- 
charge its duties, and to do everything for His dear Name. I am 
glad you are practising on the piano. Such playing as yours will 
be a great comfort to us on the w-inter evenings. So you are read- 
ing Bulwer's ' Last of the Barons' — I don't know that I have ever 
seen it. ' What shall he do with it ?' is I think one of his best. 
Nothing can be finer than the character of Arabella Crane. I do 
little reading myself beyond the subjects of my lectures — which this 


moruiiig were Hawthorne and Poo. I am about to begin a critical 
notice of tlie Tlieology of Tennyson for the 'Recorder,' which I hope 
yon will have leisure to read. Tiie first on the Theology of the 3Iay 
(iueen, and the second on that of St. Simon Stylitcs. I don't know 
that they will be worth much, though I am trying by them to show 
the contrast between a religion to satisfy the heart and one merely 
responsive to philosophy. This letter I fear will not amount to 
much more than a sheet of blank paper. It is written at the close 
of a very th-'nig day, when I suspect my pen is almost as dull as 
my mind. 

" Ever y'rs, 

"F. W." 

"Nov. 9tli. 

" Your very agreeable and kind letter of Sunday last made Cjuite 
a quick trip of it — I had a presentiment it was to be here. I really 
think you do me injustice as to the way your letters are read. They 
are first gone through rapidly, to get a perspective view ; then they 
are read carefully a second time ; then they are put away for a few 
days, or perhaps a day only, and then brought out and read again. 
When there is a long delay in the arrival of their successor, their 
reading is repeated perhaps a third or fourth time as a sort of sec- 
ondary comfort. Could there be a more respectful attention paid to 
letters than this ? 

" Here the constant arrival of new books and periodicals, as well 
as the largo library distributed through the house keep up my lite- 
raiy activity. I rec'd two large packages of books yesterday. One 
of these contained another instalment of the Rev. C. B. Taylor's 
writings, for which I confess I have little sympathy. He seems to 
me as dim as Mrs. Sherwood, and much more foolish. Two very 
admirable articles have just been published by Bishop Mcllvaine. 
One on the ' Holy Catholic Cliurch' in a distinct shape, and the 
other on 'Baptismal Regeneration' which appears in the 'Episco- 
pal Recorder.' ' Ijittoll's Living Age' I find the most entertaining 
of all the periodicals. I confess his selections are a little in the 
political lino, but this is made up for by their vivacity, and by the 
fact that he draws almost all the literary talent from that portion 
of the English press which is inaccessible here. I am trying to 
Ivcep up my German at least an hour every day — Franz not speak- 


ing English, is an aid iu the same direction. At the Faculty Meet- 
ing last night there was a disagreeable question of College discipline. 
We had an uncommonly long and troublesome session. One of the 
students, rather a fiivourite of mine, was guilty of downright in- 
subordination. He had to be dismissed from the College, but this 
is always a painful thing to do, particularly when it is associated 
with a prior examination of the culprit. This M'e had last ev'g — 
being kept at work thi'ee hours. But this is only incidental or 
rather accidental to the great work in which we are engaged. I do 
believe that this College is united to the Church, and I feel that it 
is a comfort, in some plain way to be doing the Lord's work. Still 
the clouds sometimes will gather. 

' Workm;in of God, oh lose not heart, 
But h'arn what Goil is like, 
Anil in the darkest battlefield 
Thou shalt knnir where to strike. 

' Oh I learn to si-orn the praise of men, 
Oh ! learn to luse irilh God, 
For Jesus won the world through seorn 
And beckons us his road.' 

" You don't mind luy quoting hymns. I send you in full the 
hymn I gave you from memory at Berlin. The omitted verses 
are: — 

' Wherever in the world I am, 
In whatsoe'r estate, 
I have a fellowship with hearts 

To keep and cultivate. 
And a work of lowly love to do 
For tlie Lord on whom I wait. 

' So I ask thee for the daily strength 

To none that ask denied. 
And a mind to blend with outer life 

While keeping at thy side, 
Content to fill a little space 
If thou be glorified. 

' There are briars besetting every path 

AVhich call for patient care ; 
There is a cross in every lot 

And an earnest need for prayer ; 
But a lowlij heart that leans on thee 

Is happy any where.' " 


" SrxDAV, Nov. ISth. 

" I have a moment or two, before going to Bible Class, to begin 
a letter, trusting to the rest of the day to finish it. This is what 
we have not had for a long time — a rainy Sunday. Yesterday 
was very remarkable; so mild was it that the fires had to be 
put out, and tlie windows and dooi's opened. To-day, however, 
things look more like autumn. Everything moves on here with 
the usual quiet step. The days are very much like each other, 
varied only, perhaps, in the kind of study. Sometimes a faint 
dash of dissijiation comes to break the monotony. On Friday, for 
instance, a committee of the students came to inform the President 
that a concert was to be given at Mt. Vernon by the Continentals. 
Xow, ]Mt. Vernon is the Paris of Knox County, the grand metro- 
polis of fashion, and the 'Continentals' are the Musards or Jnliens 
who form the musical taste. At first the faculty determined it 
would not be best for the students to go. It was a piece of gavety 
which might lead to difficulty, and difficulty is a thing college 
officers are very shy about. But after a while the President re- 
laxed ; and as the boys were to go, and it was a fine moonlight 
night, I determined to go too. So I had Dick and Jack harnessed 
up and put in the carriage, to their great astonishment, they being 
accustomed to retire at sir, and here, instead of going to bed, they 
were having their hair brushed, their clothes put on, and their best 
wagon fastened behind them. Dick exjjressed his surprise by two 
jumps in the air, and Jack by standing on his hind feet. They 
took us safely there, however, Dick merely escaping from the 
hostler and taking a tour of the town before recovered. 

" Four gentlemen in yellow \v-aistcoats, white trousers, cutaway 
blue coats with brass buttons, and long shaggy hair constituted the 
' Continentals.' One had a melodeon, one a bass viol, one a violin, 
and one a flute. They sing as a quartette also. As I have rather 
a taste for music that is popular and not operatic — even having a 
latent inclination for negro minstrels, — I was prepared to relish it. 
One thing they did sing well — that was Poe's Raven. I have 
always had a sort of awe for that extraordinary poem, and this was 
increased by the mysterious rhythm to which the words were set. 
I am afraid I have not written a very Sundayish letter, and this 


aft. I fell asleep after dinner. ^My only excuse is that I was kept 

up till after midnight the evg. before 

" Ever yrs. 

"F. VV." 

"Great is my joy to find that the sharp frost of Friday uiglit 
has done none of the injwi'y to the greenhouse that was expected. 
The roses, it is true, are in deep mourning, but that is what Franz 
intends them to be, as early in the winter he shut them up in a 
dark room. But the geraniums are in high blossom, the heliotropes 
have not shrunk, either in leaf or bud, and the only plants that 
look touched are some of the more tropical Begonias, the ends of 
whose fingers were a little frost-bitten. Still I am sorry to say, they 
are by no means prepared to welcome you in the style they should. 
Franz had prepared his roses and liyaeinths for Feb. and when I 
told him you would be here in three weeks — he said very ])olitely 
' Ich congratulire Sie,' but the flowers will not be ready. I might 
have told him that the brighest flower of all would be here. 
Elizabeth and Eliza expressed gi-eat satisfaction at your message. 
They have become familiarized with the place, and do not want to 
leave. You will find yourself welcomed with delight by all your 
new subjects. Prince has outgrown his 22-inch collar, and must, 
have another. Outside all is dreary, but inside the greenhouse is 
liright and the canaries are singing sweetly. It is calculated to 
make us feel very strongly God's goodness and our own unworthi- 
ness. Oh for strength to live more completely to Him ! 

" I feel very sadly about the Southern news. I can only pray 
there will be no bloodshed. 

" Mother is very anxious about Emily, and I think not unnatu- 
rally. She (Emily) lives on a plantation, her husband frequently 
awav, with very few white persons about her and a vast crowd of 
negroes. Most of these are faithful and well disciplined, but they 
are as ignorant and as excitable as the blacks in Philadelphia. 
Anything like a spark might kindle them, and then the flame 
would be most disastrous. There is always danger that a political 
excitement, such as that now pending, may touch this unfortunate 
population. I know no greater misfortune than to be liorn with 
such a heritage ; and yet, when it comes, I do not see how it can 


be cast away. To manumit slaves, as cxperienee shows, is to inflict 
on them the worst of injuries. Emily herself writes very sadly." 

After Dr. Wharton's marriage, in ISOO, the rumors of approach- 
ing war were beginning to be heard and to those who had relatives 
and friends in the South there was cause for grave anxiety. The 
College and Seminary too were largely aifected by the coming chmd. 
Not only was there the difference of opinion among the students 
that then existed throughout the couutry and all its institutions, 
but there was an atmosjjhere of excitement and restlessness very 
unfavorable for calm and quiet study. Later on, by Feb. 1860, 
the Southern .students mostly left the Hill, to join their States and 
in many cases the cause to which those States belonged, and Col., 
that is to say, President Lorin Andrews, drilled and headed a com- 
pany of volunteers to be ready for use on the side of the Union. 
This state of things was very distressing to our peace-loving and 
beloved friend. — He could not bear coercion on any point and 
though he was brought finally to see the necessity for it, it was a 
painful and unwelcome recognition. He had, however, the great 
comfort of a happy home now and sympathizing friends around 
him. His warm attachment to many persons at the Hill, and its 
distance from the actual field of combat were great mercies to him 
at that period. As it was, however, the state of blockade that 
existed for some years, and the uncertainty as to the fate of 
those he lo\-ed in tlic Snuth were often causes of depression and 

Fortunately new and absorljing interests soon came with his new 
domestic relations. On the 13th of Oct. '61, a little daughter was 
born to him and gave him a fresh and delightful duty as well as a 
solemn responsibility. This gift of a kind and Heavenly Father 
seemed to awaken in him a desire to do something further for the 
cause and the glory of the Giver. He had long been in the habit 
of lecturing or rather lay -preaching in tlie neighborhood. At the 
hamlets and farm-houses there were often cases where a regularly 


ordained clergyman conld administer the sacraments, and exert an 
influence that a layman could not. His old desire to enter the 
ministry asserted itself again, and this time there was no one to 
interpose practical considerations. After a year of special prepa- 
ration, he was ordained Deacon at Cleveland in 1802, and a 
month later received Priest's orders of that Church to which he 
now devoted himself with a new and heartfelt consecration. 

To those who have heard Dr. ^Aliarton preach, the memory will 
not be an unmixed pleasure. His voice was never good and it 
gave one a feeling almost of regret to find how often his beautiful 
thoughts and earnest appeals seemed to lose force by his inability 
to express them. Still to the few, who would give him their close 
attention there was alwaj'S a rich reward. There were few decora- 
tions, no repetitions, no ignorant speculations, but a simj)le exposi- 
tion of the Word of God, that carried conviction to many a heart 
and disarmed both doubt and hostility. Cultivated men, who 
would not sit under an ordinary preacher, no matter how earnest, 
always were willing to listen to him, the doubtful had their heart 
questionings answered, while old believers, whose faith and hope 
were long since assured, felt a renewed joy in his clear and pow- 
erful enunciations of Divine truth. Several of his sermons have 
been published ; one, notably beautiful, is called " A Eoot out of a 
dr:v ground," — also a small volume of lectures called "The Silence 
of Scripture." 

The loss of so many students from the Institutions at Gambier, 
and a desire for greater opjjortunity of preaching now led to a 
change, which will require another chajjter to narrate. 





In the year 1863 he was called to the parish of St. Paul's, 
Brookline, Mass. This Church had been built, and its members 
for some years edified by the valuable ministrations of the Rev. Dr. 
Stone, and it was with some diffidence that the comparative ucot 
ph}i;e began his labors there. lie was, however, greatly encour- 
aged by the result. The Church, a beautiful building, though 
small, became, under his administrations, crowded. His Sunday 
schools and Mission schools also. It was thought best to divide 
the Parish, and an active layman in his Church, Amos Lawrence, 
Esq., built for the overflow from St. Paul's the new Church of Our 
Saviour, Longwood, which is to-day a flourishing and well-estab- 
blished Church. After six years of successful and delightful 
labor, chequered, indeed, with some sad passages in tiie deaths of 
friends and parishioners who were dear to him, Dr. Wharton's 
throat began again to trouble him, and he projected a second trip 
to Europe, in the company of his wife and two little girls of 6 and 
7 years. At this point we may perhaps date the revival of his 
interest in legal matters. He had, indeed, from time to time con- 
tinued to revise and print new editions of his Criminal Law, as 
they were called for, and the research connected with this \\ork, 
called his attention to the absence of good books on several other 
points. While he was abroad in 1870, he spent six months in 
Dresden. Here in enforced leisure, and with the command of good 
authorities on the subject, he completed his work on " Conflict of 
Laws," which was published on his return to this country. His 
knowledge of the German language and literature had over been a 
source of great pleasure to him, and was now turned to solid 
account. About this time, also, began a correspondence witli various 
learned men in Germany, Italy, and France, which resulted in his 


election as a member of the " Droit International," a Society, 
and a correspondence which continued to claim him for the rest of 
his life. After his winter in Germauy, he sjjent the spring in 
Italy, and the summer in Switzerland, being in the last named 
period, sometimes in tiie direct path of the Freucli and German 
armies, who w^ere contending for Alsace. 

Of this time, his wife writes : — 

" His stay in Dresden was a time of peculiar activity and enjoy- 
ment. He was never tired of observing the peculiarities of Ger- 
man character. Our home was in the ' Neue Stadt,' with the bare 
floors and rugs, and porcelain .stoves, then such a novelty. Our 
children were almost old enough to take care of themselves, but 
relied for protection in their walk§ on Frederic, our German courier. 
There, with the Elbe flowing peacefully under our windows, and 
the German ' Sprache' ever sounding in our ears, he composed and 
wrote much that was useful in later years. In the afternoon there 
were walks by the river, or to the Alt Stadt, where the picture 
galleries enchained and fascinated him. Sometimes, in the evening, 
we found a rare treat in the concerts at the Hotel de Saxe, or the 
sacred music at the Frauen Kirche, but more frequently, returning 
home, we sought, with our little ones, the humbler but more home- 
like strains in the Halle of the Schiller Strasse. There, as if we 
were Germans ourselves, we chose our table and ^^■atched our Deutche 
friends, with their wives and children, smoking their pipes, drinking 
beer, and consuming tnirsf, and schinken at their ease, while enjoy- 
ing the music. He had ever great admiration for the domestic 
virtues of the German nation. It was difficult to break up our 
pleasant winter there, but on the 1st of March our time was up, 
and we prepared to descend to Italy. Crossing the Alps at Inn- 
spriick, after a short stay at Munich, we saw the mountains in all 
their winter beauty. There was no tunuel then to deprive us of 
one of the sublimest sights this earth can show — the white pin- 
nacles of an Alpine range glistening in the sun, like the towei-s of 
the New Jerusalem. After a couple of weeks at Merau, rendered 
somewhat sad to us by the sight of so many sick and consumptive 
patients, who here seek, as a last resource, for health and strength, 
we reached Venice by April 1st. 

" Much has been written and suug of the Cit^' by the Sea, but 
it will never lose in the eyes of a new-comer, a shock almost of 


surprise at its wonderful beauty. We came in just at sunset. The 
palaces had turned in the evening light into jewelled battlements. 
8ea and skv were one vast burnished mirror, on which the many- 
tinted sails hmig double. Then our way lay through Italy, in all 
its spring-tide luxuriance. The flowering season comes early there, 
and the sights of June are seen in May. Tlie roses and jessamine 
of Bellagio, the blue waters of Como, the distant jjeaks of moun- 
tain fastnesses, and last, not least, the centipedes an4 tarantulas 
even, that come out with the summer sunshine — all contributed to 
the entertainment and variety that the memory looks back upon. 

" On our way home we passed through Switzerland, and were 
inconvenienced by the presence in Southern France of bands of 
recruits on their way to the fields of action. It was then 1870, 
and the fate of the Emperor of the French was fast approaching. 
He was then encamped at ]\Ietz, and troops from all parts of his 
domain were hastening thither. "We found the trains filled with 
these poor fellows, in their blue coats, who were all to fight on 
Alsatian battlefields, and many of them to sleep in death before 
Chalons and Sedan. 

" At Berne we were detained tliree weeks by the difficulty of 
getting through to Paris. When we finally succeeded in reaching 
there, we found the smallpox there before us, and hastening on, were 
glad to place the Channel between us and the two contending jjarties. 

" War to us was not heroic, except in the retrospect, and the only 
act of heroism we connect with this, our closest contact with it, was 
the kindness of the old French gentleman who gave up a portion 
of his reserved coupe to facilitate our getting through and admin- 
istered Eau de Menthe from time to time to our various ailments 
and fatigues. 

"Our vovage home had an event to mark it, which caused us 
some alarm, and detained us for several of those hours that seem 
so long on board ship. We ran down a small schooner called the 
' Toi-pedo,' somewhere near the ' Banks of Newfoundland.' It was 
at night, and the Captain promptly stopped the steamer to ascer- 
tain the amount of injury done. There were only seven men on 
board and these declared their vessel useless. This also required 
investigation, so we remained all night alongside. In the morning 
it was found that the rigging alone had been touched, and that the . 
hurt could be easily repaired. For some reason, however, best 


known to themselves, the sailors refused to return to their vessel, 
and our Captain was obliged to send on board the mate of our 
steamer, with seven of our sailors to bring the vessel into port. 
This action of the Captain may have been dictated by policy, but 
it seemed to us singularly humane at the time, and the sailors from 
the injured boat no doubt enjoyed the good clieer tliey received on 
board of our ship. I am also happy to say, that, a few days after 
our landing, we saw the safe arrival of the ' Torpedo' announced in 
the newspapers." 

Upon Dr. Wharton's return to Brookline, finding his throat 
still troubling him, he resolved to resign his parish, and accept a 
Professorship in the then Infant Seminary of the Episcoj)al Church 
in Cambridge. 

Of the parting with his people, I can only say, in the words of 
one of his parishioners, \\'ho siiid it to me, " every man, woman, and 
child in Brookline will miss him." 

His new field of labor, however, was not far off", and the friendly 
relations already such a trusted and sustaining tie, continued to 
exist long after the move had been made. The Trustees indeed of 
the new Institution were the Vestrymen of the Church he was 
forced to leave, and the change of relations was one that rather 
cemented than weakened the tie. Were there space and time, much 
cordial and kindly correspondence could here be given to show 
how close and affectionate these relations were. It is better per- 
haps, however, to hasten on, as the object of these pages is not to 
show merely the loving and lovable nature of the man they record, 
but to explain how that God, who " disposes of our ends" shaped 
out this man's life to ends that were far from being his own choice, 
and yet perhaps in their versatility and rich results reflect all the 
more credit on the name and cause to which he ever belonged. 

Of his life in Cambridge, if we can say, with Luther, "to labor 
is to pray," it was a most devout one. His lectures at the Semi- 
nary were on Ecclesiastical Polity and Canon Law, but he made 
them include much beside. He accepted also a Chair in the Boston 
University to lecture on "Conflict of Laws." His year abroad had 
given such an impetus to his legal studies, and the libraries of Cam- 
bridge so facilitated this impulse, that he continued to write and 


publish fnim time to time the various treatises tliat have made his 
name famous. 

The "Xegligence" soon followed the " Confliet of Laws.'' Then 
followed the "Agency" and the " Law of Evidence." The twelve 
years spent in Cambridge were indeed fruitful, and the amount 
aecom])lished would seem almost impossible in any other man. It 
must, however, be remembered that incessant work was the rule of 
Dr. Wharton's life. His very recreation was only a new form of 
work, and he was so thoroughly master of the themes upon which 
he lectured and wrote, that they gave him little trouble. It was 
his delight to load his carriage with a mass of miscellaneous litera- 
ture each day, into which he pored till late at night. His brain 
could not rest except by changing its subject, and liis faculties 
seemed to brighten and expand with the burdens laid upon them. 
What to many men seemed tasks, to him were play, and his vast 
reading was made to bear upon the work he had in hand. Per- 
haps, to this jjersistent mental activity, the atmosphere of Cam- 
bridge lent its sanction. It is a town of savants, and the cold 
winds of New England driv^e its inmates within doors for much of 
the year. The effect of much study and the east wind together 
may be seen in the galaxy of names of those who adorn the annals 
of American history and literatin-e. The fancy is turned bv force 
to poem and to picture, to quiet tliought and scientific research, 
when there is little in the ontside world to gratify and exhaust it. 
For the same reason the social life of Cambridge is a forced and 
wintry growth. Men of genius are apt to be absorbed in their 
specialties, and while thei'e is much kindliness and neighborliness, 
tbei-e is little gayety and no dissipation. The long evenings, that 
in a city can be diversified in various ways, are here devoted to 
reading and study. How often does the writer recollect the sleigh 
or wagon filled with books, and bi-ought home each evening, to 
fill the hours till morning dawned. Nothing was too heavy, and 
nothing too light, to satisfy an appetite that was insatiable. For- 
tunately, eyesight never failed, and he continued to regard this 
employment as the great pleasure of his life until its close. 

The social tastes, somewhat held in check in Cambridge, ex- 
panded and overflowed in his summer holiday. He owned a cot- 
tage at Narragansett Pier, and here it was his delight, during some 
months of the year, to turn himself into a boy again and find 


absolute relaxation. By this I mean not rest, but renewed liveliness 
ami hospitality, and a partial defiance of the conventionality that 
was always irksome to him. His life having been passed in many 
places, he had often the pleasure of welcoming old acquaintances 
from other parts of the country, and they found themselves wel- 
comed with a warmth and cordiality which made them feel at 
home, and in many cases drew them to the Pier, as their chosen 
sinnmer resort, for years. The following letter will confirm and 
illustrate still further the extreme personal poj)ularity he at that 
time enjoyed : — 

];kmkmbraxces of key. dr. whartox— days at 
xarragaxsett pier. 


j\Iv earliest recollection of Dr. Francis Wharton was as a boy at 
my father's house in Philadelphia, when the Doctor was Professor 
at Kenyon College. 

He was then in the habit of coming back to Philadelphia every 
year, and used to return to Ohio laden down with enthusiastic 
young men whom he had influenced to study at Kenyon College. 
He seemed, in those days, to play the part of the famous bird- 
catcher of Mozart's wonderful composition, and he had but to play 
upon his magic flute, and the students were quickly around him. 
My old friend, Kev. William Barr, was one of these, and I myself, 
as a boy just getting ready for college, was envious of the lot of 
those who could go to Ohio to study with this genial and .sympa- 
thetic teacher. 

The next remembrance • of the Doctor comes in the recollection 
of his life as a parish minister at St. Paul's, Brookliue. I I'emem- 
ber distinctly going out to his residence one Saturday evening, 
when he lived in Longwood, and I was on a visit to Boston. It 
was a very snowy night, in the early spring or winter of the year 
1869, and the Doctor asked me to spend the night and go to church 
with him the next day. He was busy in the evening in writing a 
funeral sermon about Mrs. Kent Stone, who had just died, and at 
the same time he was correcting a large batch of proof in one of 
his law articles. Added to this, he was reading at intervals from 
some law book, in the conventional leather binding of the lawyer's 


office, and he. asked lue to hunt up for him Tennyson's dirge, 
beginning — 

" Now i3 done thv long day's work," 

whieli he wanted for tlie funeral discourse the next day. 

This was the first time I ever witnessed his remarkaljle habit of 
doing two or three things at the same time, and it surprised mc 
greatly as I looked on in youthful svonder. 

The next day I read service for him at St. Paul's Chnrcli — little 
dreaming that in a year's time I was to be his successor there. 
On this Sunday the Doctor preached the funeral sermon about 
Mrs. Kent Stone, which he had written the night before. 

Some years later I went down to Narragansett Pier, E. I., 
to look for a cottage for my family, after a long and distressing 
siege of scarlet fever during the first winter I spent in Boston as 
rector of St. Paul's Church. The Doctor was then Professor in 
the Theological Divinity School at Cambridge, and very fre- 
quently, in the goodness of his heart, walked in from Cambridge 
to help me with the service on Sunday. 

Frequently he would dine with us, and on one occasion recom- 
mended Xarragansett Pier as a desirable summer resort. The end 
of the visit was that I became the Doctor's tenant for three yeai's 
in his little "Bonnet Box Cottage," as we termed it, until our own 
cottage on the jioint of rocks known as "Lion's Head" was built. 

It was during these years at Narragansett Pier that the many- 
sided personality of Dr. 'Wharton manifested itself. He was a 
lawyer writing books, a clergyman preaching sermons, a trustee 
of St. Peter's Church at Xarragansett Pier, a wonderful shopper 
and provider for his family and friends, a kind and indulgent 
landlord, a charming and courteous host, and in many wavs the 
most striking personality of all that region. 

The tea parties and lawn parties where boarders and cottagers 
mingled ; the garden jiarties for the benefit of the Church and the 
Rectory, and the many miscellaneous gatherings of friends in his 
study, which was always fragrant with his graciousness and kind- 
ness of heart, are events which never can be forgotten by those 
who were made happy by his thought and care. Together we 
welcomed to Narragansett on one or two occasions the Clericus 
Club of Boston ministers, dividing the guests between us; while 


all the time he entered into the picnic pleasures of the place with 
all the holiday spirit of a boy in vacation time. 

The freedom and repose of this life at Narragansett Pier were 
most welcome to him. Whether it was his cheery cry for the 
omnipresent " Pat" or the faithful " Billy," the horse ; or his bare- 
headed call on his tenants, at the impulse of the moment, to know 
whether they wanted to play "Nations;" or his frerpient use of 
the provincial terminology of the place when he addressed his 
clerical friends as " Elder ;" or his delightful and piquant descrip- 
tion of the various lapses and escapades of the two Skye terriers, 
who were known as " Gyppie and Timmie Wharton ;" or his fre- 
quent and unconventional call, as he used to lean upon the fence 
with his hand to his head and talked with his lady friends, bring- 
ing them some flower or fern or sharing some delicacy of which he 
had become the possessor. 

The memory of the soul of the man clings to the place like the 
abiding of some happy dream which cannot be forgotteh. He was 
in very truth the father of our social life at Narragansett Pier. 
Many a time I have known him to ask me to entertain some guests 
until he was through with a difficult passage of proof reading, so 
that it might be in time for a certain mail, and then he would 
appear and pour forth a flood of the most brilliant conversation, 
which beggars description and can best be remembered by the 
happy phrase coined by a friend and known as " AA'hartoniana." 
His vocabulary was simjaly boundless, and his droll manner of 
using obsolete, piquant, and unexjjected adjectives whereby to de- 
scribe a noun-like conception of persons, places, and things, was at 
times strangely original and irresistible. I remember him speak- 
ing of a certain ecclesiastical dignitary, upon one occasion, as 
" frisking his feathers like a fantail pigeon in a box at a county 
fair, where there wasn't room enough to turn around," and de- 
scribing a change made in a certain city church as follows : — 

" The dear old Quaker lady has had her cap and rufts taken 
away from her, and is now like a stuffed lady in the shop win- 

Svdney Smith never said brighter things than Dr. Wharton was 
capable of saying. But he did not seem to say them ; he simply 
emitted them, as the fire-fly emits its glow in the meadow land in 
the night time. 


Never shall I forget a certain Metaphysical dinner at Narra- 
gansett at which the elder R. G. Hazard, President Porter, Dr. 
Grier and others were present. " Doctor," I said, as we were riding 
to the dinner, " if you are not brilliant to-day, at this dinner, I shall 
surely tell the story of the English showman, so I give you fair 
warning. If I lead the conversation up to the subject of West- 
minster Abbey, tliat is the sign tliat the English showman is at 
the door." 

Two or three times at the dinner I managed to say something 
about Westminster Abbey only to see the Doctor's face flush, as 
he bounded off to some dazzling topic. 

Whatever was of interest to the social or religious life of Narra- 
gansett Pier found' a warm place in Dr. Wharton's heart. He 
founded and managed "The Pier Table" or Magazine Club for the 
cottages upon the Cliffs, and for many summers entertained the 
different clergymen who came to preach at the Little St. Peter's 
Church by the Sea. 

Busy as he was in his multiform duties as correspondent, author, 
preacher, and editor, he was ever ready for the social requirements 
of this busy place and welcomed the coming, as well as sped the 
parting guest at the many hotels and cottages which have made a 
City by the Sea out of what was formerly only a provincial seaside 

He had always about him the methods of the progressive busi- 
ness man and was ever ready to lay out plans for the enlargement 
of .the Church, or the building of the Rectory, or the developing 
life and growth of the Pier. 

IMany a time he would send for his resident friends to enjoy the 
companionship of his guests — and great pleasure has been given by 
the friendships thus formed — whose memory lingers as a delight 
in the mind which time and change are powerless to efface. 

I think these Narragansett days produced a marked change in 
Dr. Wharton's outlook upon life. The former days of ecclesiastical 
and political contention seem to have become tempered to a gentle- 
ness of manner and breadth of view which admitted that there 
might be after all much to be said upon the other side. 

Nature is always calming and (juieting to the child of nature 
and teaches him many lessons not to be learned elsewhere. Dr. 


Wharton learned at Narragansett Pier — I think — that lesson which 
all God's workers must learn somewhere, — that his methods are 
after all very wide and far reaching, and are not necessarily joined 
to our human haste and zeal. 

There was very much of the Friend in Dr. Wharton's character, 
and his Quaker ancestry showed itself most markedly in the quiet 
days at the Pier. Some of his most valuable theological treatises 
were the outcome of his legal studies. Such as his paper upon 
" Causation" and " Petition in the light of Prayer" and other 
marked prodtictions were wrought out in the quiet working hours 
of the familiar study at Flat Rock Cottage. 

His papers at the clerical clubs in Boston wei-e always listened 
to with the deepest attention, and his friendsliip was a prize coveted 
alike by the elder and younger clergy and by that distinguished 
group of laymen who were the founders of the Cambridge Divinity 
School, Hon. Robert C. Winthrop, the late Jas. S. Amory, Amos 
Lawrence and others. 

His modesty, simplicity, and uniform courtesy always made him 
appear in the light of the chivalric gentleman whose guiding prin- 
ciple in life was the commanding motto, " Noblesse Oblige." 

Dr. Wharton's little book, " The Silence of Sci'ipture," made at 
the time of its publication a marked effect and was I believe the 
result of his legal investigations in the matter of Evidence and the 
^\■ithh(llding of testimony. His legal books while they were 
valua!)le in themselves and gave to their author a most envious 
and marked foreign reputation — were none the less valuable in 
their secondary use, the way in which they ofiered to his fresh 
and versatile mind new fields of illustration for the exercise of 
his theological investigations. 

Weary and tired as he often was after a winter's work at author's 
desk and professor's chair, and that tiredness which comes by use 
of pen and use of voice, Narragansett Pier was always welcomed 
by him as the gi^eat freshener of his wearied brain, and he loved 
to sing the praises of the place which restored him to health and 
vigor of life and thought. 

Ah ! dear loving — kind-hearted friend — Host and Helper of 
other days — thou hast left us and the place seems desolate \vithout 
thee ! The wind speaks to us of thee as it comes over the Point 


Judith Meadows : The Surf sjicaks to us of thee as its solemn 
monotone is heard by Flat Rock and Indian Rock and Lion's 
Head, and somehow in wind and surf and in every voice of natiu'e 
we feel that thou art still here in the spot which thou loved'st so 




In 1871 Dr. Wharton took up his residence in Cambridge. At 
tlie time of his removal, tliis ancient collegiate town still retained 
much of its earlier simplicity ; it was still known as the village of 
Old Cambridge, its society was marked by a homogeneousness of 
refinement and aristocracy and literary distinction. To such a 
community his coming was an event of social importance. To 
one like himself carrying a wholly diiferent line of antecedents, it 
was also an event of peculiar interest when he found himself trans- 
planted to the centre of Puritan learning and tradition, the battle- 
ground of Puritan theological conflicts, the later home of its highest 
literary achievements. When it had l)cen jiroposed to plant the 
Episcopal Theological School in Cambridge, he had warmly 
espoused the suggestion, in spite of the distrust which the sugges- 
tion encountered in the minds of others. To the Theological 
School still struggling in the weakness of its infancy, his presence 
as a resident professor was an element of strength and confidence. 

Dr. Wharton had been connected with the School from its origin. 
Mr. Benjaniin T. Reed, its founder, had intrusted to him the task 
of drawing up its constitution as well as the nomination of its first 
])rofessors. A confidence so generous and unlimited was rewarded 
by the devotion with -which Dr. Wharton threw himself into the 
plans of the founder. His legal attainments, his knowledge of the 
working of similar institutions, his insight into the ecclesiastical con- 
ditions of the hour enabled him to furnish a constitution, answering 
to the idea which Mr. Reed had conceived. The peculiarity of 
this constitution consists in giving to a board of lay trustees the 
supreme control. To them is intrusted not only the management 
of finances but the appointment of teachers. It is to the Trustees 
that the School makes its report and to whom its faculty as such 
are amenable. It was Dr. Wharton's conviction that the School, 


separated fri)in any organic relation to the diocese in wliicli it was 
located, would thus escaj)e the gusts and flurries of partisan feeling 
to which ecclesiastical conventions are liable and be enabled to 
maintain a uniform career consistent with the purpose of its 

In counecting himself with the School as a resident professor, 
Dr. Wharton was again rendering his services almost gratuitously 
to the cause which lay close to his heart. His disinterested gener- 
osity was the only limit to his devotion. From the time when he 
became solely identified with it, the School began to be known more 
widely, as he gave to it his reputation, his literary activity, and his 
wide hospitality, ^^^hile he appreciated and valued the attractions 
of the parish life of a clergyman, yet the work of a teacher had 
always been to him congenial. And of all the departments of teach- 
ing, it was the peculiar work of the theological school for which he 
felt the strongest yearning. Even while at Gambler, connected with 
the college, the religious aspects of truth were always prominent in 
his mind. His book on Theism and Skepticism shows how he 
delighted in tracing the affinities between theology and the adjacent 
departments of literature and law, or of more recondite ijsychological 
speculation. Could he have chosen, he would have preferred to 
teach theology as the study in which he felt the tleepest interest. 
But with his characteristic spirit of self-sacrifice, he preferred that 
others should choose their special fields, content for himself to take 
the work -nhich fell to him when other chairs had been filled, or 
for which provision could in no other way be made. 

His duties in Cambridge consisted in preaching in his turn in 
the chapel of the School and in lecturing on Liturgies, Church 
Polity, and Canon Law. For a few years also he gave instruction 
in Homiletics, Pastoral Care, and Apologetics. "While the range 
was a wide one which these several branches of study represented, 
it was not too wide for a mind like his, characterized by its capa- 
ciousness and many-sidedness together with a vast capacity for 
work. Nor was there any one of these departments f>r which he 
had not been preparing himself by some special study or experi- 
ence. He took the same delight in teaching students the relations 
between a pastor and his people, which he had also felt when as a 
parish minister in Brookline he had faithfully gone from house to 
house, advising, suggesting, consoling with his gracious and delicate 


svmpathy. As a sermouizer he had been indefatigable, while at 
Brookline, finding his highest pleasure in what to many is a burden. 
He was always revolving plans of sermons in bis mind, quick to 
see the suggest iveness of texts, writing his sermons so long in 
advance that he had at one time accumulated more than fifty 
which he had not preached. If the range of his preaching was 
somewhat beyond the popular mind, there was always something 
to arrest the more thouglitful, which might become a fruitful sub- 
ject for meditation. As he excelled in the reading of men and the 
knowledge of character, so as a critic of sermons or the art of 
their composition, he never failed to detect excellence, even in 
crude and undeveloped forms. He loved to recognize hidden 
merits, to find something to commend, where others were inclined 
to censure. 

As a lawyer, interested in the literature of law, it might have 
been supposed that he would find a special interest in the study 
of Canon Law. With Roman law he was familiar, noting with 
deep interest the influence exerted upon it by Chi'istian ideas and 
institutions. But though he lectured upon Canon Law, he was 
not attracted by it nor did he care to make it the subject of origi- 
nal research. His conception of Christianity did not emphasize 
its legal aspects. "While he did not underrate the sacredness and 
importance of law as connected with the well being of the State 
or Society, he may have felt that in the Church lay the sphere of 
that higher freedom, where law passes out into the glad ])erform- 
ance of duty under the influence of religious motive. Canon Law 
may even have been obnoxious to him, as for the greater part in 
its history a restriction of Christian liberty, concerning itself mainly 
with the interests of the hierarchy and not of the people, building 
u])on foundations alien to the spirit and the teachings of Christ. In 
Church Polity he followed Hooker whose conception of law was 
akin to his own. He held firmly to the principle that order in the 
church was divine, while unembarrassed by notions of the divine 
right of Episcopacy or of any form of church government. 

The department of his work, in which he most delighted, was 
what is known in theological circles by the unfortunate name oi 
Apologetics. But he gave it a larger scope than it is sometimes 
construed as including. It stood to him for more than a mere 
negative reply to objections or to assaults upon the faith. It 


meant rather the positive affirmation of the Christian idea beneath 
conflicting attitudes of opinion, or its confirmation by those aspects 
of Christian history or church life whose variance or discordance 
have seemed to so many to indicate weakness or disintegration. 
An article in the 'Bibliotheca Sacra' for July, ISSO, entitled Church 
Parties as Apologists, may be taken as an illustration of liis method. 
A fuller allusion to this article will be made hereafter. 

It fell to Dr. Wharton in teaching liturgies, to comment upon 
the rubrics of the Prayer Book at a time wiien the mind of the 
Church was distracted by internal differences and dissensions. 
This part of his duty was not the most congenial to liini. Strong 
as were his convictions regarding the general purport and spirit 
of the Book of Common Prayer, yet no one knew better than he 
how powerless were rubrics to enforce its purpose. He realized as 
a lawyer the limited capacity of human language to express truth 
in such a way that it should receive but one interpretation. Words 
were ciianging their meaning with successive generations. He was 
accustomed to allude in illustration of this fact to the statute of 
frauds, " which was adopted in England for the purpose of pre- 
venting frauds and perjuries consequent upon purely oral proofs 
of contracts and wills, and whicli provided that contracts and wills 
should witli certain exceptions be in writing and be proved in a 
particular way ; but there is no word in the statute of frauds which 
has not been the subject of innumerable suits and of the most in- 
tricate distinctions and subdistinctions." For these reasons he was 
not what is called a strict rubrician nor did he lielieve that it was 
possible for any one to adhere to the letter of every rubric. He 
was inclined to fall back upon the larger rubric of common sense 
in interpreting the Prayer Book, which would keep the Church 
true iu the main to its standards, while preventing the scrupulosity 
which insisted on fulfilling obsolete or inconvenient injunctions, 
no longer necessary to the Church's welfare. 

The charm whicii he threw about the topics he discussed, in tlic 
class-room or elsewiiere, is more easily remembered tiian described. 
A certain versatility of mind, joined to his apt and capacious mem- 
or}' ; the freshness and refinement of his illustrations ; the wide re- 
lations in which he viewed commonplace subjects — these things are 
not forgotten when it is no longer possible to illustrate them in de- 
tail. The supreme quality which showed itself in all his work was 


a large humanity — a sense of the human element which lay be- 
neatli theological issues or practical diiferences of opinion. In this 
respect he diifered from many who are identified with ecclesiastical 
affairs. His large knowledge of the world never allowed him to 
be entirely merged with his clerical brethren in any question where 
passing fashion or prejudice or party feeling were concerned. He 
had somewhat of the manner of one who is looking at things from 
without, or, rather, who while he is within never forgets that there 
is a point of view from without. He was sometimes driven to 
accommodate himself to clerical or ecclesiastical standards when 
the free and independent course of his mind would have led liini 
to a different view. 

The element of humanism in liis composition whicli inijjelled 
him to form literary judgments of theological issues kept him 
alive also to the essential humor which underlies the situations 
of life. While his attitude was always a serious one, his sympa- 
thetic vision, detecting at a glance the pathos in every phase of 
human exj)erienee, yet he had also, to more than an ordinary 
degree, that counter-balancing quality which prevented him from 
being overcome with the sadness which marks the course of his- 
tory or is involved in every human career. The gift of humor, 
thus manifested, may be i-egarded as part of the divine endowment 
of the human constitution — a most important factor in human de- 
velopment. It may be abused, as may all other gifts and graces ; 
but as a safeguard against absurdities ; as a corrective of the " idols 
of the tribe ;" as a means of putting men in true relations with 
life, it serves a valuable purpose in the religious world, even 
though it be misunderstood by those engaged in secular occupa- 
tions. Humor may be illustrated when it is a difficult thing to 
define, for its source is lost amidst the mysteries of our being. 
With Dr. Wharton it was intimately allied with a deep tenderness 
of nature, serving somewhat as a shield to his quick suscei^tibility 
to every form of human failure and sorrow. It was a kindly 
quality, lending a charm to social intercourse while injuring no 
one, and not always appreciated except by those who knew him 
well. He allowed it free play upon his own experience, as when 
he showed himself conscious of the incongruity involved in his own 
career — the transition from the legal profession, in whose service 
he had spent so many years, to the ranks of tiie clerical order. 


Deep and soarcliing as was the spiritual revolution which drove 
him to abandon the law with its honors and emoluments, and the 
successes and attractions of social life for the work of the ministry, 
yet something of the outlook of the man of the world and fashion 
he still retained in his new calling as he strove to adapt himself to 
the peculiar external ways, the shibboleths, the conventionalities 
of clerical life. These things amused him, while also he strove to 
take them seriously. Occasional flashes of humor revealed a kindly 
recognition of weaknesses which he could not help observing. Like 
Svdnev Smith, he al^^•ays carried the consciousness of another world 
of interests and pursuits to which the clerical mind is, for the most 
part, a stranger. 

The gift of conversation, sometimes referred to as one of the 
lost arts, was possessed by Dr. Wharton in a remarkable degree, 
making him a most attractive and delightful feature of the various 
clerical associations to which he belonged. It was more particu- 
larly in the IVIinisters' Club of which he became a member soon 
after coming to Cambridge that he siione with a lustre which was 
all his own. This unique association was composed of members 
of all denomiuiitions, including in its ranks the most distinguished 
clergy in Boston and its vicinity, — Unitarian, Episcopal, Congre- 
gational, Baptist, Universalist, and jNIethodist. Dr. Wharton's 
regular attendance showed his high appreciation of its value, each 
monthly meeting being to him a source of profit and delight. But, 
in turn, he was himself a large part of the life of the Club, and 
his contributions of learning and of literary criticism, illuminated 
with wit aud humor, always formed a memorable part of every 
session. In this social communion with men whom he respected 
for their high position, their intellectual power and large attain- 
ments, he was inclined to give himself the rein, to indulge freely 
his gift of humorous satire or liumanistic criticism with no danger 
of misinterpretation. His nature rejoiced in this varied and 
geuei'ous interchange of thouglit on the highest and grandest 
themes. It stimulated him to bring out all that was best in him, 
opening up vistas of possibility which had hitherto been undreamed 
of or unknown. It was one of the greatest charms of the Club in 
those earlier years that the meetings were held at the houses of the 
different members in turn, thus gaining a certain domestic and 
personal flavor which enhanced their interest and attractiveness. 


How many, alas ! of its members one now recalls, who are no 
longer among the living — Dr. Chandler Bobbins, Dr. Rufus Ellis, 
Dr. John S. Stone, Dr. Blagden, and Dr. Manning of the Old 
South, Dr. Means of Roxbury, Dr. Latimer of the Boston "School 
of Theology, Mr. Foote of Kings Chapel, Mr. Noyes of Wilming- 
ton, Dr. Gray of Cambridge. It was inevitable that discussion 
often turned upon points where opinion differed vitally ; but 
though there was no concealment of opinion, yet unvarying Chris- 
tian courtesy kept the members in harmonious feeling. But here as 
elsewhere, Dr. Wharton saw elements in the situation which enabled 
him to sit with a certain ease and freedom, wliere others might have 
been hampered by the limitations of sect. Again he was always 
inwardly amused at the fact that they should meet as members of 
varying sects, unable to throw off denominational ties which seemed 
to have so little significance, and yet to which they were expected to 
be loyal. The very fact that they could meet at all, seemed to put 
their differences in a confused light, and begat the incongruousness 
M'hich is the soul of wit. Dr. Wharton loved to jilay with the 
contradictions and confusions, which the Club by its very nature 
originated. He could not forget that the Baptists were standing 
for immersion, and were bound to regard him as having no valid 
baptism ; oi" that Methodist Bishops had been created as if by 
accident by an Anglican Presljyter ; or that Ct)ngregatioualists were 
abandoning those minor points of their attitude which had led 
them to revolt against the Church of England. He was quick to 
perceive high ecclesiastical claims on the part of those who had in- 
validated them in others, or utterances of a radical or unorthodox 
kind on the parts of champions of orthodoxy. There was one 
incident which he was fond of relating, as an illustration of the 
confusion which this Club produced upon tlie mind of a stranger 
unaccustomed to its method. On an occasion when it met at his 
own house, he had as a guest a venerable Episcopal clergyman, of 
the old fashioned Evangelical School, who for the first time listened 
to the discussion of a vital religious question, in which every possible 
attitude of criticism was represented, and who failed to find himself 
in the utterances of those whom he knew, or with whom he had 
naturally supposed he should be in agreement. But there was one 
utterance of the evening, to which his soul responded fervently, and 
when he inquired of his host after the Club had dejiarted, who the 


dear orthodox brother was who had so delighted him, he was told 

to his astonishmeut that it was Rev. Dr. P , a distinguished 

Unitarian divine, from whom he had hitherto regarded himself as 
separated by an impassable gulf. 

The same generous and graceful liospitality wliicli had marked 
Dr. Wharton's life in Gambier and in Brookline was a character- 
istic also of his residence in Cambridge. He delighted in having 
the theological students at evening parties, and spent time and 
thought in devising sources of amusement or entertainment, as on 
festivals like Christmas or Thanksgiving Day. 

Perhaps in later years he participated less in the enjoyment 
which he prepared for others, preferring to retire to his study while 
still happy in the consciousness of the pleasure he was giving. Dis- 
tinguished foreigners visiting the country were frequently invited 
to make his house their home. Among these was Dean Howson, 
whose reputation was then great as the joint author with Cony- 
beare, of the Life and Writin(/s of St. Paul. But the visitor from 
abroad who created the deepest interest was Canon Kingsley. He 
bad reached this country with his daughter in a condition of physi- 
cal weakness — the indications, though we did not know it then, of 
that jjremature decline, which carried him oif in the fulness of his 
years and mental vigor. Dr. Wharton rescued him from a posi- 
tion where he was wearing himself with evening speeches; and 
from the unhealthy excitement brought him away to the repose 
of his home in Cambridge. Here for some time he rested, 
enjoying quietly the society of those whom it must have been a 
pleasure to meet. Among others came the poet Longfellow, who 
dined with him and afterwards spent the evening. Kingslev at 
this time was nervous and irritable, expressing himself vigorouslv 
in denunciation of all things obnoxious, but under the influence 
of Longfellow's gentle ways and the genial unobtrusive manners 
of his host, he gradually softened and mellowed, till the man 
stood forth who had charmed the world with his books. Mr. Long- 
fellow was trying to interest him in the subject of Roman ruins, 
and in a plan then recently suggested for draining the Canipagna ; 
but Kingsley refused to be interested, declaring that he had never 
been to Rome, because he could not bring himself to visit a city 
which gloried in its ruins; all that he cared to know about Rome 
he could gather from Longfellow's poetry. [Mr. Longfellow spoke 


of Hypatia as the finest historical uovel which had ever been 
-^-ritten. On Dr. Wharton's remarking that if Mr. Kingsley had 
not Ijeen in Rome, he had made a thorough study of Alexandria, 
Kingsley confessed to having gathered from boolcs all that he knew 
of that famous city, where Hypatia lectured and St. Cyril so sadly 
misrepresented the spirit of the new religion. 

This incident may not be out of place as a picture and a type 
of Dr. Wharton's domestic life. It recalls another occasion when 
Kingsley was brought into connection with the beautiful St. Jt)hn's 
Chapel of the Theological School. Altiiough Dr. Wharton had 
promised him that he should be exempt from speech-making while 
his guest, yet he was anxious that the students should have the 
opportunity to hear the voice of one of England's greatest preachers, 
that one who was chiefly associated with English literature in the 
popular mind should appear before them as a dignitary of the 
English Church. On being asked by Dr. Wharton to accompany 
him to evening prayers, Kingsley readily consented, and after 
being introduced to the congregation from the chancel, he broke 
his intention to be silent, making an address, Avhich those who 
had the privilege of hearing will never forget — an address which 
was significant of his character as a man, and containing also an 
epitome of the theology for which he stood as the most prominent 
English representative. Referring to the Book of Common Prayer 
as a bond of unity amongst English-speaking peoples, and to the 
peculiar pleasure which it gave him to hear its fiimiliar language 
so far from home, he dwelt upon the tliought that there was one 
thing which it was always becoming to say, under any circum- 
stances to any audience, no matter whether educated or uneducated, 
whether coiiiposed of students for the ministiy or for any other pro- 
fession, which should be taken for the lodestar of their theology 
and of their lives — " He hath showed thee, man, inhat 'is good, and 
what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justice, and to love 
mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God." 

During the first few years of his residence in Cambridge, Dr. 
Wharton continued to exhibit the same interest and activity in what 
may be called ecclesiastical politics that he had shown when a lay- 
man in PJiiladelphia or in Gambier or during his residence in 
Broolcline. Politics whether secular or ecclesiastical was to him 
a natural sphere. He M'as at home on the floor of conventions. 


enjoving the sense of leadership, rccoguizuig the ^Yay out of the 
snarls and tangles of legislation, carrying in his mind easily the 
bearing and application of by-laws and constitutions, divining also 
the moods of popular bodies, and aware of the necessity of chang- 
ing a course in time, in order to avoid defeat. Any one who has 
heard him or watched him on these occasions must have seen in him 
tlie ecclesiastical lawyer, who felt the superiority which he pos- 
sessed in a knowledge of law and of men, together with the native 
delight wiiich the exercise of his faculties was affording him ; on 
such occasions he w'as supreme, and without a rival. Had he 
lived in the days when Kings chose their ministers of state from 
among the ecclesiastics of the realm, he might have performed 
services which in these times of separation of Churcli and State, 
are no longer possible. 

The days in which he was active in conventions and concerned 
with ecclesiastical legislation were unfortunately dark days for the 
cause which he had at heart. In the decade of the sixties repres- 
sive measures were enacted or in contemplation by the General Con- 
vention which seemed to him to limit the rightful jjrivileges and 
liberty of one of the great historical parties in the Church. It 
iiad been a marked feature of tiie Evangelical School that it culti- 
vated the acquaintance and friendship of the various i-eligious 
bodies, believed in exchange of services and generally sought to 
maintain that open attitude which has characterized the American 
church from the early days of this repnblic. But this amicable 
interchange was fast becoming obnoxious to the opposite party in 
the church, who building upon tiie tenet of apostolical succession, 
refused to recognize directly or indirectly the validity of other than 
Episcopal orders, and who felt outraged by the acts of their brethren 
which seemed to commit them to an attitude which they disowned. 
It may be admitted now that there was a hardship on both sides — 
that the conflict was an inevitable one, which the majority had the 
unquestioned power of determining, a dark day for the minority 
who saw what seemed a Christian privilege curtailed in the interest 
of a tenet which they abhorred. In these controversies Dr. ^^'llarton 
had borne a prominent part and it fell to his lot to see a favorite 
cause defeated. He did not see then, though he did at a later time, 
that the defeat was but temporary, that the relief for which he 
worked would come, but in other ways than he advocated ; that the 


rising sentiment of Christian unity, if it became a sentiment of 
Protestant Christendom, would be sure to sweep away every barrier 
which thwarted its progress. 

Any account of Dr. Wharton's efforts to prevent tlie adoption 
of restrictive legislation would be imperfect, without alluding to 
the motive which inspired him. It was not a narrow policy that 
actuated him, but a chivalrous attempt to defend a minority that 
seemed to him in danger of being ruthlessly sacrificed to the tyranny 
of a majority. This sympathy with tliose who were unjustly treated, 
whether parties or individuals, especially if those exercising the in- 
justice were in positions of power or influence constitutes the expla- 
nation of much in his career, which would otherwise be inexplicable. 
A case of injustice awoke an instinctive sense of indignation, and 
it made little difference to him, what might be a man's religious 
or theological opinions, he was his champion and sympathizer. 
There are those who are keenly alive to the truth of this statement, 
who are conscious of owing to him their redemption from the 
disaster with which they were threatened by the narrow, bitter 
prejudices which so often, alas ! prevail in ecclesiastical ciri'Ies. 
And these, too, are men with whose opinions he had no sympathy, 
but in whom with his accuracy in reading character, or discerning 
talent, he saw something which was worth saving, and which he 
determined to save without regard to party affiliations. 

Those miserable embittered days in which party strife Mas the 
characteristic feature of conventions have now passed away. The 
church has entered upon a new era. Those who lay the stress upon 
institutionalism in religion will always, of course, attach importance 
to legislation and find in the enactment or modification of canons 
and bv-laws a certain satisfaction. Those who are contending for 
other things — as individual liberty of conscience or action, or who 
believe in larger principles than constitutions recognize, must be 
content with the appeal to reason and to conscience, as the best 
available means for preventing unwise or hasty legislation. It was 
a remark of the late Dr. Stone, that the Evangelical School made 
its great mistake when it went into conventions as a party, and 
sought to attain spiritual ends by unspiritual means. Dr. AYharton 
came also to the same conclusion, and regretted that he had ever 
engaged in the strife. His object had been not an unworthy one ; 
he had aimed to rescue a party from defeat, which was the bearer 


of spiritual traditions and aspirations, which had a legitimate home 
in the church, and this at a moment when the rising tide of eccles- 
iasticism seemed to threaten it with extinction. He had fought for 
the cause with weapons in whose nse as a lawyer no one was more 
skilful; some temporary successes also he had gained. When 
defeat came, he yielded, accepting it with stoical fortitude, and 
retiring from the arena, in which the contest had gone against him. 
Once again however he came up to the exciting field of ecclesiasti- 
cal warfare, at the time when the election of the present Bishop of 
Massachussetts brought all theological issues in the diocese to a 
crisis. He could not be silent or inactive much as he might have 
preferred to remain so. To his wide vision the scene of conflict 
lay open and exposed ; he quietly watched for the decisive moment 
in the struggle, by his subtle adroitness he outwitted his antagonists 
in a manner sudden and unexpected, and gained the victory. From 
that time he retired finally from all participation in ((inventions, 
and interested himself in other things. 

It was while he was residing in Cambridge, that the sense of 
failure to achieve their cherished plans was fast driving some of 
the leaders of the Evangelical School into a mood which was ripe 
for separation. "With such a scheme Dr. Wharton had no sym- 
()athy. It was his attachment to the Church which had led him 
to identify himself with the Evangelical men in their heroic strug- 
gle ; but he declined to be identified with any efforts to establish a 
separatist organization whose motive should be the mere negation 
of High-Church principles. His view of the function of jiarties 
within the Church, forced him to regard their mutual influence 
upon each other, as a desirable and necessary means of cultivating 
a comprehensive Christian life. But in these attitudes taken by 
themselves, or incorporated into sects, he discerned a mischievous 
narrowness which defeated its own end. He never abandoned the 
principles which had wrought so powerfully in him, as to drive him 
from the world, into the sphere of distinctly religious things. He 
continued to regard Christianity as having its ground as a religion 
in its redemptive aspects — he emphasized the grace which coming 
to the soul from without wrought in it a moral transformation^ 
binding it also in personal relations of affection and devotion to a 
sovereign Lord. But for the rest, he was open-minded enough to 
see good in things with which he had no special sympath}-. The 


ways of High-Churchmen or of Ritualists he found no difficulty in 
tolerating ; in their manifestations in history they seemed to him 
to have subserved a valuable purpose. As lie witnessed the modi- 
ficaticms which parties in the chui'cli had undergone, since he first 
knew them, he sometimes playfully remarked that he considered 
himself an old-fashioned High-Chnrchman. Though never in 
doctrinal sympathy with Broad-Churchmen, he found himself in 
deep sympathy with their practical aim, and with their concep- 
tion of a comprehensive church, capable of including the various 
types of Christian belief. He was among those invited to attend 
the memorable meeting in New Haven which resulted in the 
organization of the American Church Congress. That Church- 
men should meet as men for the free discussion of issues on which 
opinions differed, promoting by this means mutual understanding 
and good will, — with this principle he was in 'cordial agreement. 

An article published by Dr. Wharton in tiio ' Bibiiotheca Sacra' 
for the year 1880, entitled Church Parties as Apologists, is interest- 
ing in this connection as not only illustrating the workings of his 
mind or his methods of teaching, but as setting forth his convic- 
tions with an explicitness which leaves nothing to be desired. He 
there reviews the attitude and history of the successive parties that 
have risen in the English Church since the Reformation, finding 
in cncii much that is admirable but at the same time much to be 
condemned, while they are so organically related to each otiier, 
that all must be included in any picture of Christianity aiming 
to rcjjresent it in well rounded completeness. Dogmatism has 
its place and function as representing the intellectual life of the 
Church ; it is a necessary phase in the history of every new move- 
ment in the Church, by which it defines and discriminates its tenets, 
distinguishing them sharj)ly from that which has been rejected as 
untrue, and thus makes the truth it holds its own conscious pos- 
session. But dogmatism encounters great risks, when it passes over 
into a dead habit, after its true work is done ; it violates intellectual 
libertv, it provokes reactions even against the essentials of its faith ; 
it depreciates the importance of the ethical and spiritual elements 
in Ciiristianity. But equally deficient is the ethical party rising 
in response to the needs generated by dogijiatism as in tlie English 
and Scotch Churches, in the 18th century when it came near losing 
the distinctive quality of Christianity altogether. Nor can it be 


said to have produced the moral regeneration, at wiiieh it professed 
exchislvely to aim. There is no more striking contrast than between 
the ethical proclamations of the Latitudinarian pulpit and the dis- 
content, the lawlessness, and depravity of the last century. AVhat 
was chiefly needed was the touching of the emotions and the rousing 
of the will brought about by the Evangelical awakening under 
Wesley and "Whitefield, which not only led to social reform but 
quickened the moribund iustitutionalism of the Church till it 
became a new power in the nation. But the Evangelical party 
showed indiiference towards culture and scholarship, and its lack 
of appreciation for the aesthetic, particularly in music and archi- 
tecture, fostered a prejudice against it among literary men. It 
exaggerated also tlie individual aspects of salvation, overlooking 
the relation of the individual to the organic whole, — to the mem- 
bership in a race which Christ had redeemed. It needed to be 
supplemented by a larger iustitutionalism which should bind indi- 
viduals together in the realization of a common life, enabling them 
to feel their oneness with the corporate church in all the ages. 
Iustitutionalism on the other hand without the saving grace of 
individual freedom and aspiration degenerates into a mere govern- 
ment which compresses and crushes, without fructifying, till it is 
ready to instruct a Paul to tremble before the Roman governor. 
Sacramentalism aud sacerdotalism are attempts to fill the vacuum 
of iustitutionalism as an organism abandoned by life, by endowing 
the institution with the power of emitting grace. They have a 
certain affinity with current materialistic theories and from this 
point of view are not wholly without some justification. But 
sacerdotalism misunderstands and misrepi'esents the links and 
attachments in the outward order of the church ; and sacrament- 
alism while it has its valuable side as against too subjective a con- 
ception of God's relations to the soul, narrows the range of the 
sacramental aspects of life, and becomes pernicious and destructive 
when it seeks this substance of grace in the sign. 

Ritualism, considered in its festhetic aspect, is the outcome of an 
age which is both artistic and humane. The love of ornament in 
the home, which nourishes valuable industries and refined tastes, 
may also have its place in the house of God. God himself appears 
as loving the beautiful with which he clothes his operations in na- 
ture. It is well for the poor that there should be a home for them 


glowing with rich colors, cast in impressive architectural forms, 
through whose aisles floats rich and solemn music. One need not 
cavil at the interest in his ecclesiastical vestments shown by the 
Anglican minister, nor at music and ornaments too florid which 
interest and attract the poor, jirovided ritualism stops at this line 
and does not regard ornamentation as a necessary means for the 
conveyance of grace. 

The name Broad Church carries no special sense, and breadth is 
a relative thing. Those to whom the name is now applied may be 
regarded as advance guards standing on the frontiers of the Church, 
occupied in the vindication for Christianity of a place in the world's 
latest thought or acquisition. There is work to be done in the 
field of biblical criticism ; in the study of tlieological dogmas by 
the light of psychology and sociology ; in adjusting the principle 
of evolution to the authority of a divine revelation which teaches 
the dignity of man and the sacredness of conscience. A party en- 
gaged in this task acts under that instinctive energy of extension 
which inheres in Christianity ; it aims to establish new defences of 
the faith on what was before alien ground. Nor is there any cause 
for fear, even though its conclusions should reject opinions or inter- 
pretations of Scriptures wiiich to many are identified with the Chris- 
tian faith. The attitude of free inquiry which some deprecate, dates 
back to an early age of the Cliurch, and then, as now, those who 
were assailing an enemy to the Church were regarded by the more 
timid as assailing the Churcii itself Christian history is a succes- 
sion of victories achieved, of new eminences occupied by whose 
fortiuie is of^en to be denounced at first, and afterwards accepted as 
defenders of the faith. 

Views like these, so comprehensive and discriminating, whose 
tolerance was based on devotion, not independence to the truth, 
were not so familiar ten years ago as they have since become. They 
mav be taken as Dr. Wharton's last message to a Church in whose 
affairs he had been long and deeply interested, from active partici- 
pation in which he was soon to be shut out by a call to a wliolly 
different work — it might seem to some an alien department of 
human labor. 

The years of Dr. Wharton's residence in Cambridge, uneventful 
as they were in any striking circumstances, furnisii but little ma- 
terial for the biographer; and yet these quiet years contain the 


record of inward process and development. His natnrc, wliich 
fitted him for activity in the world of affairs, was demanding some 
larger outlet for its satisfaction. From the time that he came to 
Cambridge, he must have begun to realize that he was shut out 
from any adequate field of ministerial influence, and this, too, at a 
moment when his mental force was at its height and his capacity 
for work undiminished. From the ecclesiastical point of view, his 
position was proving a diminution and restriction rather than an 
advance and expansion. The gradual failure of his voice was ex- 
cluding him from the privilege of preaching — that resource which 
had made the clerical office attractive. There was no longer an 
opportunity for the indefatigable serraonizer that he had shown 
himself in Brookline ; he stood in no pastoral relation which would 
occupy his time and sympathies. Under these circumstances he 
found the necessary outlet for his energies in his legal studies. He 
never lost the consciousness of his ecclesiastical position, but the 
years of his sojourn in the Christian ministry had so \\idened his 
conception of religion, that it did not seem incongruous that he 
should continue in a religious spirit the work which he had for a 
time abandoned as a profession. 

This is not the place to speak of the voluminous legal treatises 
which belong to this period of his life. The apparent ease, the 
rapidity with which he sent them forth to the world, \\as aston- 
ishing. His industry seemed almost appalling to those younger 
than himself who fancied that they, too, were hard at work. For 
some years before leaving Cambridge, in addition also to his work 
in the Theological School, he was holding a pi-ofessorship in the 
new Law School connected with the Boston University. He was 
also pushing his inquiries as a lawyer into new and unoccupied re- 
gions. As he surveyed the opportunities which opened up their 
attractions to his vision, he often remarked that young lawyers 
would do -well to cultivate what he called the literature of the law. 

It was while he was thus engaged that his own health, combined 
with various domestic reasons, induced him reluctantly to sever his 
connection with the Episcopal Theological School. The education 
of life was still something other and larger than his own personal 
volition would have made it. His history has in it elements of 
breadth and comprehension which are profoundly suggestive. As 
the story of a life, one cannot think of it without being deeply 


moved. The forces which acted upon him from without, and those 
which stirred him from within, reveal in their resultant a man cast 
in no ordinary mould, touching life at so mam' points that it is 
difficult to characterize or describe him. History, litci'atnre, psy- 
chology, philosophy, interested him as well as law and theology. 
We may think of him as the young and successful lawyer, win- 
ning a reputation in his early years with which many would have 
been content ; or as the devoted layman and popular lay-preacher, 
giving his time and fortune to Christian work ; as the clergyman 
and pastor and theological professor ; the versatile and voluminous 
writer of legal treatises with a widely extended circulation and 
recognized as of high authority, covering so many departments of 
legal inquiry as to make it cause for wonder that one mind could 
have compassed them all ; and finally ending his days at Washing- 
ton as the legal adviser of the Department of State — a j^osition 
where his vast legal acquirements and diplomatic skill found their 
fullest opportunity. But an impression of him remains to those 
who knew him best which abides in the various phases of his 
career. He was a man, faithful, generous, devoted, who delighted 
in the recognition of merit in others ; whose heart responded in 
sympathy with the injured or oppressed. His deep and abiding 
interest in those with whom he came closely in contact ; the deli- 
cate kindness, and the watchful care which he found time to de- 
vote to them in the midst of exacting avocations — these memories 
remain with those who, incapable of appreciating him in the wide 
range of his activities, can yet divine the most expressive quality 
of the man. 




After twelve years of constant and increasing labor in Cam- 
bridge and Boston, Dr. Wharton's health began to show signs of 
breaking down. His throat had indeed long given him uneasiness, 
but now new and alarming symptoms appeared lower down. Dif- 
ficulty of breathing while walking, or after meals were the form in 
wliich the complaint manifested itself. He consulted the best 
physicians in Boston and Cambridge, and tiiey decided that an 
increase of size and weight, and an accumulation of fat about the 
iieart were the cause of tiie trouble. He was placed ujjon a strict 
regimen as to diet and exercise, and after a time experienced great 
relief. Still the results of many years of comparatively sedentary 
life were not to be easily warded off. His numerous engagements 
liad to be fulfilled. His Lectures at the Divinity School, Cambridge, 
and the Boston University were the chief claims upon him, but, 
besides this, new editions of his Law Books called for study and 
preparation. In the year 1881 he resolved to give up his j)i'o- 
tessorships and confine himself entirely to his books and the 
research they demanded. This was a painful conclusion to come 
to, but that it was essential to the preservation of his life was 
rendered patent to all beholders, by an event which shortly fol- 
lowed. While taking leave of his long ti'ied, and much beloved 
duties and associates, he was seized with an attack of faintness in 
tiie street, falling down and continuing insensible for over an hour. 
After reviving, he retained no recollection of any special cause for 
the attack beyond tiie usual strain of the day's duties, nor after his 
recovery did there appear any bad results, but it was evident that 
a change must be made. He must relinquish some of his work, 
and take time for recreation and exercise. He decided to return to 
his native city of Phi]adeli)hia. He had jsassed twentj- or more 
years of absence, with only occasional visits ; many of his early 
friends were gone, but there were still enough left to make the 


prospect of being once more amongst them a heart-cheering one. 
He felt the warning he had received to be a solemn one, and 
thought his work was well-nigh done, and was far from anticipating 
that after a short repose there were still some years of active life 
before him. After resigning his position in Cambridge, he resolved 
to pass a year in Enrope, trusting to the entire change to aid him as 
much as the freedom from care and study. Of this journey, how- 
ever, no very cheering records remain. The effect was not quite as 
satisfactory as was ho})ed. A few letters written at the time, will 
best give the mingled pains and pleasures of the experiment. 

"LivEitPOoi,, October Sind, 1881. 
" As you will have heard, I hope, by cablegram, before now, we 
are all safe on dry land again, after a most trying voyage of nearly 
eleven days. We had a furious blow which lasted three days, but 
the ship was a good and safe one, and weathered the storm well, 
though extremely dirty and uncomfortable. Dr. Wharton was quite 
well all the time, and made lots of acquaintances. Among these 
were some Cambridge people whom we knew all about, an English 
clergyman and his wife, a family from Cleveland, and some New 
Yorkers, and last, but not least, some Bi-itish young men. When 
we parted this morning at the Custom-house, it was like the break- 
ing up of a tea-party. Dr. Wharton has such accessible manners, he 
seems to have l^een the life of the ship, and I heard nothing but 
expressions of regard, and hopes to meet again, and protestations of 
friendship, all of which, I suppose, will be forgotten before long. 
Here it is the same old, wet, black, smoky Liverpool — a big, dismal 
hotel, the Adelphi, but a warm fire in our rooms, and an excellent 
dinner. Dr. Wharton went to Church this morning, and now has 
gone to the evening service. We start to-morrow for a leisurely 
trip to London by the Midland R. R. We shall stop at the 
Peacock Inn, Rowsley, to see Chatsworth and Haddon Hall, which 
are in that neigh boi-hood, and be in Ivondon before auotlier JSuuday. 
I am so relieved to be safely here and all well, tliat I can assure 
yon I joined very heartily in the doxology which was snug on 
board the steamer this morning just before leaving, when all the 
passengers were taking their breakfast, and which had a most im- 
pressive effect." 


'■ I.o.NnoN, October 27th. 
" Vi'e arrived lierc on AA'cdncsday, having stopped on the way 
fronj Liverpool at Rowsley, where there is a conutry inn in a very 
pretty eountry. AVe meant to stay there some days, but wlien we 
got up in tlie morning we found a furious rain falling, which, l)y 
twelve o'clock, turned to snow. It was also extremely cold. ^Ve 
had stopped on purpose to see Chatsworth and Haddon Hall, so, 
determined not to be beaten at once by adverse circumstances, we 
ordered a carriage, and drove off. The country was invisible, and 
the steam on the windows of the carriage prevented our seeing even 
the driver. However, when we reached Chatsworth, we made a 
very satisfactory tour of the house, seeing all the curiosities and all 
the pictures with great names attached to them — Murillo, Holbein, 
Leonardo, etc. We vrere much interested in tiie historical por- 
traits, of which there are many, and in the canopj^ worked by 
Maiy Queen of Scots. Finally, after w-e had been ail through tlie 
magnificent rooms, we were brouglit to a stand before a jjortrait of 
the present Duke, and riglit beside it one of his second sou. Lord 
Frederick Cavendish, wlio, you know, \\as recently murdered in 
Ireland. It seemed to me placed there to show the vanity of the 
whole exhibition. As these pictures are the last thing shown, I 
spoke to the attendants about them, but they were very obtuse, 
and showed no sympathy, though both dressed in deep mourning. 
They told us some of the family were expected next day, and 
showed us the family dining-room, all prepared for use. It was 
carpeted with a magnificeut velvet rug, which in j^laces near the 
sideboard was pieced with carpet of a different pattern ; so you see 
even dukes have to economize. Of course, we could not go through 
the gardens on such a day, and therefore returned to tiie inn, where, 
after lunch, the girls and Dr. Wharton walked to Haddon Hall, the 
rain having held up a little. This they enjoyed extremely. We de- 
cided, however, that the season is too late for England, and came 
on to London next day. We are now settled in a comfoi'table 
lodging on Half Moon Street, near Hyde Park, and only a few 
doors from Picciidilly. We went out to Sydeniiam to-day to see 
Mrs. B. There are plenty of people in London, as Parliament 
assembled on Tuesday, and I see some very stately, well-dressed 
l)eople in the streets. But this is a bad season of the year for 


Loudou, and I think we shall leave here in two weeks for Brns- 
sels. Dr. ^A'harton is easily tired, and I think feels the effect of the 
steamer now, though he seemed so well at the time. We Want to 
be settled in winter quarters in Rome by December 1st. There is 
really very little comfort in travelling here in winter, as there are 
no fires in the cars, and not much fire anywhere. Oh, for a grate full 
of good Narragansett coal ! Our little smoky fire has to be watched 
all the time as if it were wood. How far behind is England in 
every comfort !" 

"London, November 5tli. 
" Our visit to Ivondon is almost over. "We leave here on Wed- 
nesday and go to Brussels, where our Continental journey will 
begin. I think we have made the most of our time. Dr. Wharton 
and the girls have been out every day and all day. When I read 
Hare's ' Walks in London' and find how every street and almost 
every house has a story, I feel that a year w^ould not be too long to 
exhaust the interest of the city. Whitehall and the Strand are 
more to me than the grand new part of the town, and I read about 
them, and go out and imagine how it once was. Dr. Wharton 
lunched yesterday with Mr. Allen, Editor of the ' Quarterly Re- 
view,' and in the evening dined with Lord Coleridge, the Chief 
Justice. To-day, Mr. Westlake invites us to a reception, which 
being Sunday, we have declined. To-morrow, Sir Robert Philli- 
more has invited us to tea,.and we also lunch to-morrow with 
Mr. Freemantle, a clergyman. Dr. Wharton's friends are all in 
the legal line ; he has corres])onded with them for years, and now 
enjoys seeing them. If it were only a differeut season, I should 
enjoy staying longer, but we must hurry on before winter catches 
us. I sjient a long morning at Westminster Abbey, where one of 
the latest tombs, of course, is that of Dean Stanley. There is also 
a bust of Kingsley, and one of Keble just placed there, and there 
is soon to be one of Longfellow. Poets and Kings are the great, it 
seems, and above all, warriors." 

"Wiesbaden, Nov. 12th. 
" You see by this that we are further on our way, having arrived 
here last evening. We crossed from Dover to Calais in a fine stiff 
breeze and high sea, but it was soon over and we took the train for 


Brussels, where we sj)ent a day in going over the sights. A very 
fine gallery was the chief attraction. Although the Rubens, Van 
Dyck% etc., are the things to admire, I confess the lovely modern 
pictures held me longest. There are beautiful shops in Brussels, 
and Dr. Wharton has already bougiit a ])resent for each child iu 
the family. We left Brussels on Friday and continued to Cologne. 
There is not much to see on the journey, but of course the Cathedral 
was an object of interest at the end. Our hotel looked out on the 
Rhine, which was a sea of liquid mud. At nine next day we again 
took the train, and, I am happy to say, witli a in'ight sun shining. 
Here the true glory of the Rhine begins. The road lies beside the 
river all the way, and every tower and castle is not only beautiful, 
but connected with some romantic legend. At two o'clock we 
arrive<l at Wiesbaden. Xow we are delightfully established at the 
Hotel des Quatre Saisons, right opposite the Kursaal, and with the 
pleasant prospect of a .stay of at least two weeks. This is said to 
be a particularly fine climate. Dr. Wharton and the girls have 
g(.)ne to church this morning. He is pretty well, but he feels any 
change in his usual habits, and I am veiT uneasy about him all the 
time. God grant we may be able to take care of him, and if we 
find he cannot be as well and comfortable here, we shall have to 
return home. But, so far, we have done very well. He enjoys 
things very much, and is extremely cheerful. Everything is bright 
and dry here, a blessed relief after the London fog and smoke. 
There are plenty of people but none that we know. A fine band 
plitys three times a day ojiposite, and a good library of English, 
French, and German is close at hand." 

" WiKSBADEN, November 17th. 
" M'e have no\\' been more than a week here, and are nearly tired 
of it, but we are so comfortable that we hate to move. We have 
delightful rooms and good fires and food, and that in such in- 
clement weather is a great deal. A storm of rain set in last 
Monday, and continued four days. Fortunately there is not much 
to be seen. We go every afternoon to hear the band play at the 
Kursaal. Scientific and popular music are performed in equal pro- 
portions, and in first-rate style. The large room is generally two- 
thirds full, but we never sec a familiar face. In fact, this place is 
out of season Ibr ^Vmericans. Wc shall leave here by Saturday, 


and go to Heidelberg, on Monday to Basle, thenee to Luzerne, and 
over the St. Gothard. By Thursday, I hope, to Milan, Friday 
to Florence, and thence to Rome. We intend to leave early, in the 
spring, and come back slowly over the same ground. The spring, 
as you know, opens early in Italy, and we can see things to much 
greater advantage when the days are longer. Now it is dark by 
four o'clock in the afternoon, and we have really no time, as the 
one o'clock table d'hote takes up the morning. We get up at 
seven and have our breakfast, and then read or if it is fine go out. 
At one comes dinner, according to the German custom. Of course 
it is too early in the day, but it suits Dr. Wharton remarkably well, 
and he has had no headache since he has been here. He goes with 
tlie girls to the theatre sometimes, but it is so very dull, so very 
decorous, so highly refined and classical, that they find reading at 
home more amusing. I went once and heard one of Schiller's 
tragedies, but though I am at home in the colloquial German, 
I found the long speeches and exalted sentiments of Scliiller's 
heroes quite beyond me." 

" Fi.oRKNCE, Uecember 3rtl. 

" It has been a longer interval than usual since I wrote, but we 
have been travelling constantly. We left Wiesbaden a week from 
last Wednesday, and came down to Basle, where we spent a Sunday, 
having passed through Heidelberg, and spent a day there. It was 
cold and rainy, of course, but looked more cheerf"ul at Basle, wdiere 
our rooms overhung the river and where we had a bright open fire, 
a sign that we had left German stoves behind us. 

" We crossed the St. Gothard in a furious snow storm, and the 
hills around here are covered with snow. We have no thermometer 
but I should say that it was colder than at any time last winter in 
Philadelphia, and Dr. Wharton has not been at all well. We left 
Basle on Monday and came down to Luzerne, our party having 
been augmented by Eita, our Italian maid. It was for once a 
lovely afternoon when we reached Luzerne, and we walked about, 
and saw the queer old towers and Thorwaldsen's Lion, and next 
morning crossed the St. Gothard and reached ]\Iilan in the evening. 
The journey we used to make in three days was made in one. 
There are several tunnels in crossing, and when we came to the 
Ions one at Goeschenen it did not seem to me much longer than 


the others. We came througli in twenty-two minutes, and felt 
none the worse though botii Dr. Wiiarton and I M'ere a little 
nervous. We met a Cambridge acquaintance on the train, who 
told lis he was on his way to Venice to meet jNIr. Brooks, and they 
two were going to sail thence for Bombay to s]}cnd the winter in 
India. j\Ir. Brooks will, I suppose, go round the world before he 
returus. I rejoice to think we are now only one day from our most 
distant point, Rome, and after that only five days from the steamer 
to come home. You will be surprised at this sudden collapse of 
my enthusiasm for travelling, but I am extremely uneasy about 
Dr. Wharton. He is not well, and travelling does not agree with 
him. Tlie changes of meals and hours are the worst thing tor 
him. A\'c shall not think of remaining abroad this summer, and 
I shall be thankful if we get through the winter. Although he 
tries to i)e cheerful it is very much against the grain, for in travel- 
ling it is impossible to make him really comfortable. Rita, our 
maid, is extremely useful, and perhaps in Rome, we can take an 
apartment and make things more homelike. We only stayed one 
day in Milan, but that was long enough to see the Cathedral, and 
the ' Last Supper,' and we reached here Thursday. We have a 
very pretty yellow salon, and the sun shines on us all day long 
across the Arno. We have already visited the Ufiizi and the Pitti 
galleries, and hope to do the principal churches before leaving, 
though Dr. Wharton and I are pretty much hors de combat. For- 
tunately Rita is able to go everywhere witii the girls, as she is a 
woman of fifty, and thoroughly acquainted with all the sights and 
places we wish to visit." 

"Rome, Dec. 14th, '82. 
'' Vi'c came here from Florence last week, and found a comfcjrt- 
able suite of rooms waiting for us at the Hotel de I'Enrope, Piazza 
di Spagna. It is the highest part of Rome, and we have the 
highest apartment in it. There are ten flights of stairs, but as 
there is an elevator, that does not matter. In Rome the value of 
rooms increases as you go up. The higher, the purer air. I think 
we shall avoid all chance of malaria. Their great charm, however, 
is that they look out on a t<>rrace 50 fl. long by 20 ft. broad, where 
the sun basks all day, and where the stone balustrade and pots of 
aloes make it look very Italian indeed. It is laid out directly on 


the roof of the Hotel, and commands a beautiful view of all the 
spires and roofs and cupolas of Rome and of every suurise and 
sunset. It is peculiarly appropriate to us, as neither of us are 
able to go about much, and this terrace is a good place for exer- 
cise. We shall do very well, if we are only allowed moderate 
health, but sometimes my heart fails when I see how impossible 
it is to minister to a heart and mind ill at ease. The life here is 
too great a contrast to Dr. Wharton's habits for years, to be pleasant 
to him. Perhaps later he may endure it better, but now I some- 
times think it might be better for us to come home at once, and 
not keep him in discomfort all winter. He is not well, and has 
few books about him, and after the girls have seen Rome, they 
will have seen a great deal, and we wouk? cheerfully bear the dis- 
comfort of a winter voyage, if there was peace and contentment 
at the other end. Not that we have at present any positive idea 
of the kind, but I like to think it is possible. It is comforting 
to think we are only two days and a night direct route to Paris, 
and that the Cunarders are equally safe winter and summer. He 
goes out every day with the girls, and they are much interested in 
the ruins, etc., but twenty-four hours have to be got through each 
day, and we have not yet had time to hunt up any Americans. 
It is a great contrast to the going in and out of the Seminary aud 
Lecture Room, and the meeting bright, clever people at home. 
The alleviations of climate and scenery, and interesting associa- 
tions are nothing to him compared to society, and I am dreadfully 
afraid his recovery will be retarded by his present life, instead of 
assisted. I sent for a Doctor immediately upon our arrival here 
(he is the best in Rome and had been strongly recommended to 
us). He is not of opinion that we should return to America, but 
he is very uneasy about Dr. Wharton. He comes to see him every 
day, and is a gi-eat comfort to me. He gives him nothing but 
Bromide and Hunyadi water. This is indeed a gloomy letter, but 
I cannot write cheerfully when my heart is heavy. I must leave 
the sights to the girls, aud write what is in my thoughts. I only 
beg you to help me with yoar prayers at this most trying time." 

"DkO. 15th. 

" To day things seem to improve. Dr. Wharton has had no bad 
symptoms, and is sitting writing comfortably beside me. If we 


ran only get into regular habits here, with sufficient occupation, 
' we may be hapjn' vet,' in God's mercy. I hope it will be so, as 
the account you give of the rigorous winter around you does not 
seem suitable for invalids. The details you give of home and 
Thanksgiving Day do seem very sweet and attractive however, and 
I hope ere another Thanksgiving Day we shall be settled in some 
modest Phila. mansion, and never again attempt a search for ' a 
mild climate and change of scene.' And jet, if we had not come, 
we should feel that we had not done all we could for his health, and 
now it is a comfort to me to think we have passed tlirough the most 
fatiguing part, and can come home easily at any time. I wish you 
could look in upon us ; Rita, our maid, is making the ai-rival of 
the week's ' lavage,' an excuse for much shrill French and Italian 
talk. You would suppose clothe* had never been washed, mended, 

and paid for before. E is in her room, working at Xmas 

presents ; neither her Father nor I are allowed to pass through 
this room, so we are perforce in the salon, listening to the tang- 
ing of ]\[.'s guitar, and occasionally walking out on the terrace. 
If I had the spirits, I could make a romance out of this terrace. 
It overlooks the whole city, with its renowned temples, ruins, domes, 
and spires. It also overlooks all the neighboring windows and bal- 
conies, and thus makes a contrast between the mighty Past and 
modern Italian life. Right opposite is a complete pigeon house, 
under the care of a boy, about L.'s age. This boy must I think, 
be also an invalid, as he is out on his balcony, as much as I am 
(jii my terrace. He has built a range of very amateur buildings, 
and is feeding and petting his pigeons all day long. They come 
lit his call from all surrounding roofs, and yet thev are not over- 
fed I am sure, as they pick up the crumbs I scatter for them the 
n)oment my back is turned. On another balcony is a complete 
kitchen, with ice-chest, pantry, and everything but a stove, whei'e 
a family of children are coming and going all the time. If I had 
better eyesight, I could give you receipts for potenfa and other 
Italian delicacies. More romatic are the many plants and flowers 
that cover all the neighboring terraces, our own included. Every 
house has its sky-parlor, with roses in bloom, orange trees in tubs, 
and oleanders and palnis towering above. If we were certain of 
remaining here I should buy some sweet-scented plants to have 
the pleasure of tending them. As yet, we have only the aloes, 


which ai'e very stern. The flowers in the street are very cheap and 
for a few cents the girls can decorate themselves for the table 
d'hote. Abont fifty people sit down every day, of all nations 
and tongues. Swedes are opposite to us, whose language I do not 
attempt. Several unattractive English families have evidently the 
.same opinion of us ; an Italian Duke with several children and 
some sociable Americans." 

"Jan. 8th, '83. 
" I believe I wrote you of the cold Dr. ^^'harton had taken at 
St. John Laterau. This developed into a dysentery, and it is now 
two weeks since he has left his room. He is not very sick, but 
afraid to go out, and with the disease sometimes worse, sometimes 
better. The Doctor comes every day and gives him medicine, and 
his diet has to be very careful, but it is very depressing to us, and 
not at all what we expected in coming abroad. He has been sick 
more or less, ever since we left Germany, and I attribute it to the 
dreadful weather we had there, when he could get but little exer- 
cise, and to the unwholesome food everywhere. Now he is on strict 
regimen, with only arrow-root and beef tea, and I am nursing him, 
with llita's help, and a great deal of consideration from the Hotel, 
where I fear they are only too accustomed to sickness. He has got 
the idea that Italy does not agree with him, and as soon as he is 
better, we must make a move somewhere, though where to go, I 
scarcely know. The weather has been lovely, and everything 
favorable except his health. I go out but little ; once for a walk 
on Monte Pincio, and once to St. Peter's, where E. and I enjoyed 
much the splendid church, with its monuments to the past gloriea 
of the Popedom. It is in much better condition than when I was 
last here. The mosaics are kept clean and polished, and everything 
has an orderly appearance. The King (Humbert) is to be thanked 
for all the added neatness of Kome, and its buildings. Even the 
streets are spruced up, and haxe not the evil odour they once had. 
His Court is regularly established at the Quirinal, and we often see 
him driving on the Pincian. On the other hand, tlie Pope says he 
is a prisoner, and never comes out of the Vatican. The girls go 
somewhere every day. The palace of the Csesars interests them 
greatly. Much has been excavated lately and they see rooms and 
frescoes that were not exposed until very recently. The ground 


which was a cabbage garden covers buried palaces, and new treas- 
ures are dug up daily. E. gets photographs of these interiors and 
that is, so far, all I know of theiu. 

" I shall be sorry to leave Rome. Our terrace has been de- 
lightful, and also our walks on the Pincian, since Dr. Wharton has 
been better. The smell of the violets on its slopes, the beautiful 
old City below us, with its entourage of hills and pines, and the 
green Campagna beyond have been within our reach. Once we 
have driven to the Borghese and once to the Colosseum, where it 
was too damp to linger. We have seen, in the distance, most of 
the poor old venerable temples and arches, who look as if imploring 
oblivion after an existence prolonged well-nigh beyond endurance. 
The temjjle of Minerva, especially, seems to have gone down on its 
knees to beg to be covered up from the light of day. The temple 
of Janus, the arches of Constantine and Titus, and the Theatre of 
Marcellus have all been seen in passing, but tlie \\eather has not 
been such as to admit of our remaining long, and we have been 
satisfied with a passing glance, ^\'e shall go aMay before the 
Carnival, as it is all-important to get our invalid strong again. 
Naples, we have given up, as too debilitating. We shall go to 
San Remo, on the Riviera, which we hear is especially bracing, and 
I don't doubt we shall enjoy its gardens and sea-breezes, and I hope 
cheerful society. There have been plenty of people here, but not 
interesting to Dr. M'hartou. Even Dr. X., the Am. Clergyman, 
has been to see him but once, as Dr. Wharton was too sick to 
return his visit." 

" Sax Rem(i, Feb. 1st, '83. 

" Here you behold a new heading to my letters. E wrote 

so fidly a day or two since that I postponed my letter for fear of 
repeating her verbatim. Our leaving Rome, and our journey 
through Pisa to Genoa, has already been described. The raih'oad 
to Genoa is beside the sea, and Dr. Wharton seemed to improve the 
moment we sniffed the sea-breeze. He was so well when M-e 
reached Genoa that he wanted to stay several days, and go sight- 
seeing, but I begged him not to risk another attack in such a place 
as Genoa, especially as the weather was very cold. We spent only 
one day there, and left for this place the next. The road is beside 
the sea all the way, and would be beautiful but for the constant 


tunnelling. Wherever, on the old Corniche road, there used to be 
a slight ascent, there is now a tunnel, so that many persons still take 
the old carriage road. With us, however, it was too important 
to get to the end of our journey, and altliough we did not leave 
Genoa till 12 M. we were very glad to reach San Remo by 7 P.M. 
This is a most lovely spot, and I can scarcely realize that we so 
lately left snow at Genoa. Here all is green, and tropical plants 
are all around us. The town lies on the slope of hills that shut 
out everj-thing but the south, where is the sea, and these hills 
retain the sun's heat from day to day, so that it is much warmer 
than in the same latitude on the other side of the hills. Of course 
you know this, but it strikes one here with fresh surprise. Even 
at Rome we had cold winds, here only a gentle breeze from the sea, 
without which exercise would not be agreeable. Dr. Wharton 
seems delighted witli it, and I hope we shall stay some time. Our 
hotel is a little out of the town, high, and with a view all round 
of the sea ; exquisite gardens, roses, violets, and orange-blossoms 
all about us, and an atmosphere like summer. When there is a 
cliill wind or cloudy day the habitues of the house apologize for 
the unusually ' bad weather.' It seems to me like Paradise. It 
may be just the place for Dr. Wharton to get well and strong 
again. He is so fond of the sea, and there arc people and shops 
enough to make it entertaining. We hear nothing but the English 
tongue on all sides, and English hotels line the way for over three 
miles. The quaint old streets of the town proper are full of curio- 
sities, a peculiar mixture of queer and ancient articles for sale, with 
a most common and modern trickery in selling them. Dr. ^^'harton 
is very full of shopping, and it requires all my persuasion to keep 
him oiF the Sorrento wood and Italian jewelry. I wish to reserve 
our resources for Paris. But it is delightful to see him again taking 
an interest in everything and enjoying himself He is able to 
Avalk freely everywhere, and it is a happy contrast to the dark, 
damp, streets of Rome, where every step was fraught with danger, 
to "him at least. There are some people in the house who promise 
to be companionable, and with books and sketches, and the inex- 
haustible walks, we shall find it very endurable. We went on 
Sunday to the English Church, and heard the usual English ser- 
mon — very good in matter, but delivered with a dismal drawl ! I 
suppose the chaplains at these places are generally men in delicate 


licaltli, kept alive by the deliciuiis climate. The walks and gar- 
dens are full of cripples and invalids, and even the well people get 

a sort of hobbling gait from sympathy After a while we 

shall make some excursions to the neighboring towns, where, I 
believe, half the English aristocracy are assembled, but now we are 
glad to be quiet." 

"San Rkmo, Feb. loth. 
"... . Dr. Wharton continues to show wonderful improvement, 
he seems as w'ell as ever, enjoys everything, and has recovered his 
spirits. He is much amused with the people in the house, he has 
a book on hand, of course, but he says it is only translating. He 
is a great favorite, and is having, I am happy to say, quite a flirta- 
tion with a clever English lady, who lends him books and talks 
history to him. There is a dear old lady up stairs, who sends for 
him to play whist in the evening — so that he gets on very well. He 
walks every morning to the town, where we have examined 
every shop ten times over. Dr. Wharton buys figs and chestnuts 
and the inevitable flowers. We often rest on the way to look 
at the lovely blue sea, with its points of sloping coast, covered 
with towns of white and yellow houses and basking in a summer 
sun. Xear at hand are olive yards and vineyards, and a perfect 
redolence of violets and hyacinths from the gardens below. I 
sometimes feel like shaking myself, and saying, ' Do you knoip that 
you are having June in February, and that never again will you be at 
such a season in such a spot ?' We get so used to our blessings, 
that after two or three weeks of loitering and basking, we begin to 
read and write again and even talk of the sights we shall see in 
Paris, and the sliojjping we shall do there " 

" Fed. 25th. 
" There is a young Scotch gentleman here, who told me his left 
lung was consolidated, and that he never expected to be well again. 
He was as cheerful as if he had spoken of some approaching hap- 
piness, so I suppose that he is fully prepared. That is the comfort 
(if these English people; they are religious by heritage and educa- 
tion ; they never dream of staying away from church on Sunday, 
and they all come in the evening to sing hymns. One man whom 
I thought singularly ' worldly,' came in to ask for his ' favorite' 
hymn, and another, with the countenance of a pirate, we discovered 


to he a leading elder in the Scotch clmrch here. So von see we are 
gradually merging into intimacy and approbation. I think our 
standing has greatly increased since they have seen Lord Coleridge's 
seal on one or two of Dr. Wharton's letters ; and are convinced 
now that we are first-class people. They are singularly ignorant 
about America, and will ask such queer questions as — ' Where is the 
city of California?' ' Don't you know Mr. Woods, of Missouri '?' as 
if wo lived next door. One lady asked me if Washington were not 
on the Mississippi ? Still they are very friendly and pleasant, and 
our rooms are filled with visitors every day. Sometimes they do 
not quite appreciate the sobriety of our charactei's. An old lady 
warned me against gambling. She said, ' Americans are so inexpe- 
rienced — they are carried away with excitement !' Another, a gen- 
tleman, said, ' I never play at ilonte Carlo — but my wife does. If 
she loses 1000 francs, she stops, but I feel bound to make it up.' 
Here was a real live gambler !" 

Perhaps the writer has lingered too long on this European joui'- 
ney, and the delightful episode of San Remo. It is, however, 
almost the last period of Dr. Wharton's history that she can look 
back upon with entire satisfaction. Restored to health, and with 
a mind free from care, he was for the remainder of the trip the life 
and soul of the party After a devious, though pleasant, route 
through Northern Italy to Turin, and a short stay at Aix les 
Bains, they came to Paris in May. From thence to Loudon, and 
set sail from Liverpool on May 19th. As he himself said, "he 
must be at Narragansett in time to dig his asparagus bed." The 
truth is he was tired of an idle life. The mere ti'avelling did not 
occupy his mind sufficiently. " Get work to do ; it is better than 
what you work for," was ever his motto, or, in his own humorous 
and highly poetical paraphrase, Constant employment is constant 

The return of the Democratic party to power in 1884 will mark 
the next era in his changing career ; a career I hope, it will be 
observed, whose changes were involuntary, and caused by events 
entirely beyond his control. He had spent nearly two years quietly 
in Philadelphia, fully occupied with revising his now numerous 
books, and had certainly no idea that anything further awaited 
him, when some intimations reached him that he would be a useful 


and welcome aid to the new Administration. xVfter some prelimi- 
nary correspondence, tlie following letter was received from the 
Hon. Thomas F. Bayard, Secretary of State : — 

" Dkp't of State, 'Washixctox, D. C, jMaivh IG, 1885. 

" My Dear Dr. ^Vhartox : 

" I have your letter written yesterday, and A\rite t() ask you to 
come on, as soon as possible. You will go into service as soon as 
you come here, and your commission will follow upon the expira- 
tion of a short ' leave of absence,' granted to your predecessor. 

" I believe you will find the i)osition akin to your powers and 

your tastes, and one in which you can render valuable service to 

your country. 

"Yrs. trulv, 

" Pi-of. Fkaxcis Whaktox, riiiln." 

The office to which he was called was that of Examiner of 
Claims, or, in other words. Legal Adviser to the State Department. 
It was not without misgivings that he accepted this position. Xot 
that lie felt any hesitation about his ability to fulfil its duties. He 
liad been familiar with the topics he would have to handle for 
years ; his decisions would be governed by the result of many years' 
study of the very topics in question, and his studies would be 
stimulated by this practical application of them. But he had a 
reluctance to take up an occupation so exclusively secular. Though 
debarred by the state of his voice from officiating in any jiublic 
service in the Church, he had never lost sight of his sacred calling, 
nor were the vows of his earlier dedication felt to be less binding. 
The following lettei- from a beloved friend, although written after 
his acceptance of the office, will show what were his scrujjles and 
in wliat way his advisers tried to remove them. 

"Cleveland, Ohio. 
" Eey. and dear Brother : 

" Your gratifying and exceedingly interesting note has just 
reached me, on my return from visitation. It is an additional 
evidence of the reality of your friendship that you have taken the 
trouble to mention reasons for your acceptance of the present re- 
sponsible position you hold under government ; but believe me, 
my dear old friend, that no question has ever arisen in my mind 
as to the propriety of the act. I have rejoiced that the opportu- 


uity was thus offered you to serve God so acceptably in au office 
so responsible, and I have rejoiced with our mutual friends that 
our country was so ably represented by a member of our Church. 
It» seems, to me, at least, that Divine Providence has been prepar- 
ing you for this high office, and by your peculiar education and 
experience — T refer especially to the ecclesiastical side of Englisih 
polity — enabling you to interpret fully the miud of our English 

" President Cleveland's choice of jNIr. Bayard is to be highly 
commended. We have felt that our foreign relations were in safe 


"Believe me most affectionately your friend and brother, 

"G. T. fiEDELL, 

"(B|). of Ohio). 

"Rkv. Du. Wharton." 

After some further deliberation he resolved to accept the office 
temporarily. The letter in which he signified tliis decision to Mr. 
Bayard has been preserved. 

"No. 1820 Pink Street, PuiLAnicLPiiiA. 

" March i-J, '85. 

" My DE.iR Mr. Secretary : 

" As I telegraphed to you this morning, I accept the proposition 
to take for three months the jiost of counsel to the state depart- 
ment, postponing for the present the question of an acceptance of 
the office as a permanency. After leaving you I met, at the Su- 
preme Court, my old friends Mr. George W. Biddle and Mr. 
Rawle, who both advised me sti-ongly to take the office, as one 
for which I was more or less fitted by my old training as district 
attorney, and subsequent experience as writer on and professor of 
international law. This morning I have seen my publisher, and 
looked over business matters, and find that there is nothing to 
prevent my entering on the work at Washington as soon as re- 
quired. !My present intention is to take lodgings until the ques- 
tion of permanent acceptance is decided, and then if this be deter- 
mined on, to take a house. I would add that I would feel bound 
in any view to discharge the duties of the office until you found 
a successor satisfactory to yourself 

" Truly y'rs, 

"Hon. T. F. Bayard." 


Upon removing to "Washington, Dr. Wharton found his hands 
full. Not only did he find the work at the Department of State 
exceedingly interesting and congenial, but he was received with 
much flattering attention by the various social circles of that bril- 
liant city. "Well known to the larger part of the employes of the 
government bv hii? books, they were now glad to make his acquaint- 
ance personally. His nomination by President Cleveland was con- 
firmed unanimously by the Senate with, in one instance, the signifi- 
cant remark : " I should as soon think of objecting to Chief Justice 

This was the bright side of the picture. On the other liand, the 
constant pi-essure and responsibility ; tlie not too healthy climate of 
Washington ; and, above all, the giving up of his summers at ISTar- 
ragansett Pier, jiresented a prospect that migiit have discouraging 

The impression that he made during the four years of his jioliti- 
cal life must be left to another to describe. The men and tlie 
measures of that administration are almost too recent to be written 
about freely. The same thing ajsplies to his correspondence, which, 
though large and including some very distinguished names, is yet 
too full of the local and personal to be within the scope of the 
present volume. It is sufficient to say that the labor of these last 
years of his life seems to have exceeded that of all previous years, 
and that the loving and devout spirit that he had manifested in 
earlier and less trying positions never deserted him. He attended 
with regularity the Church of the Ascension, and nnich enjoyed 
the ministrations of the faithful rector, the Eev. Dr. Elliott. Often 
upon returning from these services, in which he never took part 
except as a worshipper, he would say : " How I have enjoyed the 
sermon ! There is nothing-like the good old gospel, after all." 

There must always be, in the government of a great nation, 
times when a just and proper exercise of control will excite the 
opposition of those controlled ; and the four years' term of our 
execntive will always provoke agitation and party strife. But in 
political parties and angry contests Dr. Wharton took no interest. 
Though he considered himself identified with certain great prin- 
ciples held by his party, he never was betrayed by discussion of 
them into want of consideration for others. Many of his warmest 


friends were his political opponents, and he was ever the recipient 
personally of aifection and confidence, both from those who agreed 
with him and those from whom he diflered. 

Among the letters and memoranda he left behind him much may 
vet be found that would interest the reader, but it must be at a later 
date, and transcribed by another hand. 




Hon. John Moore, 
Third Assistant Secretary of State. 

Early in the year 1885 Dr. AYliarton was invited to take the 
post of Examiner of Claims or Solicitor for the Department of 
State, at Washington. After due reflection he accepted the posi- 
tion, and late in March entered upon the performance of its duties. 

It would be diiiicult to conceive of greater fitness of person for 
place than that of Dr. Wharton for the office to which lie was 
called. Although he left the bar for the church early in life, the 
impress of his legal training remained, and his predilection for the 
law never forsook him. Whatever might be the suliject that occu- 
pied his attention, it was to its legal aspects that he was especially 
attracted. His mind was singularly versatile, and his sympathies 
were broad and easily touched. He possessed, besides, a strong 
vein of sentiment, which not infrequently had a controlling effect 
upon his conduct. He was fond of poetry, and sought diversion 
and recreation in works of fiction. Endowed with such generous 
tastes and faculties, technical disputations were little to his liking. 
The narrow view of a question never appealed to him. It was in 
the discussion and application of broad and general principles that 
he found his greatest delight ; and it was in the natural develop- 
ment of this liberal disposition that the lawyer became the eminent 
and accomplished student of jurisprudence. 

In addition to his knowledge of law. Dr. Wharton possessed a 
thorough acquaintance with history. He was accustomed to say 
that Englishmen knew less than Americans of English history, 
and if he was to be taken as an example of his countrymen his 
observation was certainly correct. His knowledge of ihe history 
of England was singularly thorough and minute. It was not con- 
fined to the general and leading incidents which are stated in the 


formal histories, but extended to the lives, the lettei-s, and the 
minor accounts of men and women. With the exception of the 
history of the United States, he knew more thoroughly that of 
England than of any other country ; but he was also a diligent 
student of history, both ancient and modern, in the most general 
sense. What he read he was enabled to retain b}' the possession of 
an unusual memory. He made few notes and kept no common- 
place books, and did not burden his mind with useless dates and 
facts. His memory was philosophical rather than circumstantial. 
If questioned in respect to a particular circumstance, he often ex- 
pressed an inability to answer. But, if called upon to consider a 
particular subject, he was able, with a rapidity and completeness 
seldom witnessed, to draw from the stores of his memory a copious 
sujjply of historical illustrations and analogies. 

The labors of Dr. Wharton in hist(jry and jurisprudence, and 
his fondness for the discussion of general principles, led him to the 
study of international law, and prepared tlie way for his eminence 
as a publicist. His first important achievement in this field is 
found in his treatise on the ' Conflict of Laws,' or ' Private Inter- 
national Law,' which includes a comparative view of Anglo- 
American, Roman, German, and French jurisprudence. Con- 
cerning this work, an intelligent and discriminating critic 'in the 
'Southern Law Review' expressed the opinion that upon it would 
rest its author's most lasting and solid fame. There is reason to 
believe that Dr. Wharton shared this opinion, for he took an 
evident pride in the book and often referred to the criticism in 
the ' Southern Law Review' as one of the most ajjpreciatiye and 
satisfactory ever written upon any of his works. In 1885 appeared 
his 'Commentaries on Law,' which embrace chapters on Inter- 
national Law, both public and private. 

Such was the preparation of Dr. Wharton for tlie discliarge of 
his new duties. Ijearued both in history and in jurisprudence, 
and with a wide and established reputation as a publicist, he was 
able to speak as one having authority. He was not compelled to 
search for principles and precedents ; he had already reduced them 
to possession, and it was only necessary for him to apply them. 
The value of such a preparation can be estimated only when we 
consider the distinctive character of international law as a branch 
of jurisprudence. The average practitioner, trained in the strict 


scliool of tlie common law and awnstomed to the tcchuioal dispn- 
tations of the ordinary judicial courts, finds himself, when called 
upon to deal with matters involving international law, confronted 
with a new type of questions in the S(jlutioii of which his previous 
education affords him little assistance. In reality one of his first 
tasks will be to rid his mind, so tar as he may be able, of its pre- 
possession fou technical reasoning. The books which he has been 
accustomed to consult, with a view to obtain a " case in point," 
can no longer be accepted as guides. Even if he should find in 
the courts of his own country a decision upon the question which 
he has under consideration, he would then be required to ascertain 
whether that decision had been accepted as being in accordance 
with the principles of international law ; for in such matters one 
nation is not bound to accept as conclusive the decisions of the 
courts of another. He would then find it necessary to embark 
upon the study of history and the works of publicists, and to 
apply with such guides the principles of reason and justice. 
Although in this department of investigation and study the 
United States can claim such distinguished names as those of 
"Wheaton, Story, Kent, Lawrence, Field, and Wharton, the study 
of international law has for the most part been much neglected 
in this country. AMien the subject is taught in the schools, the 
course of instruction is usually confined to a few lectures of a more 
or less perfunctory character, and perhaps to a few lessons from 
text-books which deal with the most elementary doctrines. Xo 
attempt is made to trace the history of the subject, and the 
remarkable contribution of the Government of the United States 
to its progressive development is almost wholly overlooked. A 
gentleman lately in the diplomatic service of the United States 
recently told the writer that one of the most distinguished publicists 
of Europe declared to him that he found more to interest and in- 
struct him in the annual volume of the Foreign Relations of the 
United States than in any other cui'rent publication on interna- 
tional subjects. This, he said, was due to the freedom and origi- 
nality with which questions were treated ; a circumstance in large 
measure attributable to the unique position of the United States 
in the family of nations. 

Dr. Wharton entered upon the discharge of his duties in the 
Department of State with all his accustomed energy and enthu- 


siasni, and for a time found ample oceupation in the daily work of his 
office. Coming into the place soon after a change of administration, 
he was required to give opinions upon a large number of complaints 
M'hich had in the interval been submitted to the Department with 
a view to their diplomatic presentation to foreign govei'nmcnts. 
This influx of claims attends every change of administration with- 
out reference to its political character. The principle of res judi- 
cata, though not infrequently invoked, is not applied with the same 
strictness in the executive departments as in the courts ; and each 
suitor whose claim may have been the subject of an adverse de- 
cision finds room to hope that in the change of the head of the 
dej)artment his complaint may receive favorable consideration. In 
the first year of his official life. Dr. Wharton gave formal written 
opinions upon 221 claims, involving various questions of law. 
But his labors were not in the meantime restricted to the exami- 
nation of claims. Questions of international policy were also the 
subject of his consideration. In the spring of 1885 the Colom- 
bian Government, with a view to suppress an insurrection which 
liad arisen in that country, issued two decrees of great im2)ortance 
to foreign nations. By the first of these decrees, certain ports then 
in the possession of the insurgents were declared to be closed to 
foreign commerce ; and the penalties and forfeitures affixed by 
Colombian law to smuggling were denounced against the goods 
which might be imported into or exported from those ports, and 
against the vessels which might engage in trade with them. By 
the second decree it was declared that the vessels which, under the 
flag of Colombia, were then employed by the insurgents in hostile 
operations against the port of Cartagena, to the detriment of 
foreign commerce with that port, did not belong to the Colombian 
Government and had no right to fly the Colombian flag ; and for 
these reasons they were declared to be beyond the pale of interna- 
tional law and their repression by the armed forces of friendly 
powers was invited. These decrees raised two questions on which 
Dr. Wharton always held and expressed very decidal views, — the 
rights of neutrals and the international status of insurgents. The 
United States refused to treat the decrees as sustainable on principles 
of international law. The right of a government to close, by a 
decree, ports not in its possession and not actually blockaded, was 
denied. At the same time the Colomltian Minister was informed 


that tlie United States would not treat the vessels of the insurgents 
as pirates. It is not improper to say that Dr. Wharton materially 
contributed, bv his learning and skill, to the argument made by 
the United States on that occasion. 

Before the close of his first year in the Department of State, 
Dr. Wharton began the compilation of a digest of the opinions 
and decisions of executive and judicial officers of the United States 
on questions of International Law, with legal and historical notes. 
The work being too large and scarcely popular enough in character 
to be undertaken by a private publisher, its printing was provided 
for by a resolution of Congress. An intelligent critic has recently 
observed, that if Dr. Wharton had done nothing else during his 
industrious life for the science of jurisprudence, the ' International 
Law Digest' would, quite apart from his labors in the field of 
criminal law and of the conflict of laws, be his enduring monu- 
ment. Such defects as the work possesses are inherent in its 
character. It was dra^n not only from published documents, but 
also from the unpublished records of the Department of State, begin- 
ning at the oi'igin of the Government. In dealing with the latter 
it was necessar}', owing to the number of subjects treated and the 
voluminous character of the discussions, to omit a great deal, and 
to select such parts as were deemed illustrative of the doctrines 
most consistently maintained. Such a process of selection neces- 
sarily reflects in some degree an editor's personal bias. But the 
' International Law Digest' remains a monument to its compiler's 
learning and industry, and is fidl of interest and instruction. The 
first edition was soon distributed, and in 1887, by direction of 
Congress, a second edition was printed. 

Afler the publication of this work, Dr. Wharton undertook the 
labor of editing the ' Diplomatic Correspondence of the American 
Revolution.' Provision for printing was again made by Congress, 
and he worked at his new task incessantly up to the date of his 
death. Only a few daj'S before that event, he received and cor- 
rected the last proofs of the first volume, which contains historical 
and legal notes in the form of an introduction to the correspond- 
ence. The latter he left in manuscript in the hands of the writer, 
as his literary executor, to whom Congress has given authority to 
continue the printing. 

This brief outline of the life of Dr. Wharton during the period 


of less than four years which he spent iu the Department of State, 
presents a record of unusual character. The activity of his mind 
was incessaut, and he wrote with rapidity ; but, with all his learn- 
ing and all his facility, it would have been impossible to accom- 
plish, iu the short space of four years the immense and varied 
tasks he undertook, if, in addition to his other qualities, he had not 
jjossessed that of untiring industry. " Dogged industry" was the 
term which he liked to apply to his habit of labor. His capacity 
for work seemed to be almost unlimited, and he was never idle. 
He rose early in the morning, usually before six o'clock, and im- 
mediately resumed his tasks. His labors the days could not be 
said to divide ; for he gave few hours to sleep, seldom more than 
five, and often less, and the fii-st hours of tlie morning generally 
found him still at work. Sometimes he went out early to walk, in 
order to refresh himself for the day's labor ; and this was about 
the only physical exercise he took. He usually reached his office 
before nine o'clock, and he then worked through the day without 
intermission. He not only worked constantly, but also eagerly, in 
order to accomplish as soon as possible the task he had set. He 
possessed in the highest degree vivacity of intellect. This quality 
imparted to the severest labor keen and apparent pleasure, and con- 
tributed to sustain his exertions. He was also able to perceive at 
a glance any pertinency in what he read to the subject under con- 
sideration. In this way he was able to read with great rapidity. 
He possessed little fondness for books, for their own sake. They 
were merely his instruments. He valued them solely for what he 
could obtain from them, and, after extracting what suited his pur- 
jKise, put them aside. He was not what we style a book-lover. 
Hence, as he lived fur the most part in close proximity to large 
public libraries, he collected few books, and his private library, 
which was comparatively small, was not selected with reference to 
his work. His quickness of perception and his ability to appreciate 
at its relative value whatever came under his notice, enabled him to 
employ with unusual ease the labors of others. Moreover, he 
understood so thoroughly and so comprehensively the subjects on 
which he wrote, that, in directing and utilizing the labors of others, 
he was able to give to each thing its proper place and its appropri- 
ate effect. Thus he was not compelled to complete one branch of 
an argument before he proceeded to another. Keeping the whole 


in his mind, he was able to pass from one part to another, and, 
where vacant places were left, to fill them up as his collection of 
materials was completed. 

Dr. Wharton's capacity for productive labor cannot be more 
forciblv shown than by au enumeration of his principal works. 
His tirst reputation as a legal autiior was made by his writings on 
criminal law. His works on this subject are four in number, and 
comprise treatises on 'Criminal Law,' 'Criminal Pleading and 
Practice,' and 'Criminal Evidence,' and two volumes of 'Pre- 
cedents of Indictments and Pleas.' The treatise on 'Criminal 
Law' embraces two volumes, and is now in its ninth edition ; that 
on 'Criminal Pleading and Practice,' in one volume, has passed 
through an equal number of editions ; that on ' Criminal Evi- 
dence,' is in two volumes, and is also in its ninth edition. The 
' Precedents of Indictments and Pleas' is in two volumes, and has 
reached a fourth edition. In conjunction with Dr. Stille he wrote 
a work on ' jNIedical Jurisprudence,' which is also in its fourth 
edition. He next wrote a commentary on 'Agency and Agents,' 
in one volume ; then a treatise on the ' Law of Negligence,' which 
is also in one volume, and has reached a second edition. Follow- 
ing these came his work on the ' Conflict of Laws,' also in its 
second edition ; a commentary on the ' Law of Evidence,' in two 
volumes, now in its third edition ; a work on ' Contracts,' in two 
volumes ; and ' Commentaries on American Law,' in one volume. 
Besides these practical treatises, he published a volume of 'State 
Trials,' a work full of historical interest, with notes written in a 
peculiarly charming style, which appeared in 1849, when the author 
w'as twenty-nine years of age. The ' International Law Digest,' to 
which reference has already been made, comprises three volumes, 
and the ' Diplomatic Correspondence of the Eevolution,' is yet to 
appear. In order to appreciate the extraordinary facility with 
which this large number of voluminous works was written, it must 
be recollected that for some years his labors as a writer of treatises 
on law were suspended, and that all through his life he was a con- 
stant contributor to periodicals. 

An attempt having been made to describe and explain, in a 
general way, the extent of Dr. Wharton's achievements as a pub- 
licist, it will be interesting to consider more in detail the qualities 
of his mind, his habits of thought, and the distinguishing traits 


of liis character. Such a combination of faculties as he possessed 
is seldom witnessed ; and it was only after seeing him at his 
daily tasks that one could appreciate the richness and variety of 
his mental endowments. Reference has alread}' been made to the 
quickness and breadth of his comprehension, to his capacity for 
labor, and to the exceptional character of his memory. It is only 
by this combination of faculties that we can account for the extent 
of his acquisitions. No industry, however constant, could have 
enabled him to accomplish so much, if he had not possessed extra- 
ordinary mental powers. His works show the extent of his erudi- 
tion. It was in his treatise on the ' Conflict of Laws,' or Private 
International Law, tliat he attempted to cover the widest field of 
legal investigation. If his acquirements had been wanting either 
in thoroughness or in amplitude, the defect would then have been 
revealed. But none of his works was ever received Avitli more 
instant recognition or with higher approval, not only by the public 
but also by scholars and jurists. It did more than any other of 
his publications to extend his reputation abroad, and no doubt 
materially contributed to form that high estimate of his learning 
and abilities which induced the University of Edinburgh to confer 
upon liim the degree of Doctor of Laws, and the Institute of Inter- 
national Law to enroll him as one of its members. For, when 
those honors were conferred upon him, the ' International Law- 
Digest' had not been written. 

Dr. Wharton also possessed powers of imagination of a high 
order. It is this that distinguishes the narrow logician from the 
creative thinker. Voltaire said of Dr. C!lark, that he was a mere 
reasoning machine. This could never have been said of Dr. Whar- 
ton. He did not, indeed, possess that highest type of imagination, 
which has enabled a few men in different ages to create distinctive 
systems of thought, and to connect their names with new social, 
political, or legal theories. He made no profession of originality 
in this rare sense. He was always ready to avow his obligations 
to others, and was wont to disclaim any originality of thought. He 
declared himself to be especially indebted to German writers, whose 
language he understood and whose works he carefully studied. But 
he was never the victim of logic. He sought to discover and ajjply 
principles, and not merely to find reasons to justify other men's 
conclusions. He studied and comprehended questions in their 


wider relations, and imt siiij:;ly aud apart. He was especially quick 
to perceive analogies, and reasoned much in tJiat way. This im- 
parted to his discussion of various topics unusual breadth and sug- 
gestiveuess, aud exceptional harmoniousness of view. 

With his great fondness for history, and his extensive learning, 
it is not strange that Dr. Wharton should have dealt much in pre- 
cedents ; but he was never the slave of authority. Stare decisis 
was not a rule whose limitative force he felt himself bound to ac- 
knowledge. " So it hath been decided" was not enough to silence 
his objections. That he diligently searched the books for opinions 
and precedents, in order to ascertain what had been determined, the 
wealth of his citations amply shows. He always knew the latest 
cases. But he never held himself to be precluded from criticising 
and disapproving what he cited, no matter how high the tribunal 
from which the expression came. 

Though Dr. Wharton often dissented fi-om the authorities he cited, 
his opposition was never factious, nor the result of a. fondness for 
disputation. Controversies of a personal character he sedulously 
avoided, esteeming it a sign of weakness rather than of strength to 
seek to win a cause by abuse of an adversary. Where he found 
himself in opposition to the courts, it was because their action did 
not square with what he believed to be the reason, the justice, and 
the philosophy of the matter. When of this conviction, he did not 
hesitate to dissent and protest. The amj)litude of his comprehen- 
sion enabled him to work out a system of principles in law, politics, 
and theology, with singular clearness and consistency. To those 
principles he was devotedly attached ; and he was always ready to 
maintain them. The basal principle of his system was that of 
liberty, and it gave color and direction to all his thoughts. There 
was nothing that appealed to him so strongly as the efforts of men 
and of nations to work out the problem of self-government. He 
never could forget that it was by the exercise of the right of revo- 
lution that the people of the United States attained their independ- 
ence, and assumed a place among the nations of the earth. The 
annals of our early history, the struggles, the vicissitudes, and the 
triumphs of the makers of the Republic were always the subjects 
of his especial study and admiration ; and to the exposition of the 
events of that period, and of the causes and course of the conflict, 
he devoted the last hours of his life. It is often mentioned as the 


reproacli of scholars and men of letters that in the eontemplatiou 
of abstract themes tliey lose sight of and cease to appreciate the 
generous motives which operate upon the conduct of peoples in 
their struggles for freedom. In the critical study of the acts and 
character of individuals, they become oblivious of their sacrifices 
and patriotic exertions. It was not so with Dr. Wharton. He 
had no sympathy with that spirit of detraction which seeks to be- 
little the beginnings of American history. He was intensely 
patriotic and intensely American. It was his especial delight to 
dwell upon the simple life and the simple manners of our Kevolu- 
tionary period. He was beyond that narrow conception which 
contbuiids simplicity with barbarism. It is the tendency of society 
in every age to consider itself as the best exponent of civilization, 
and to regard its forms and ceremonies as the embodiment and 
the test of progress and refinement. This delusion Dr. Wharton 
did not share. He was sensitive to the conventionalities of life, but 
he was able to look beneath its shows and ostentation, and estimate 
its purpose and value. He felt contempt for ignorance, and de- 
tested bad manners, and neither pretence nor display could conceal 
them from him, or shield them from the shafts of his ridicule. On 
the other hand, he thought that simplicity of life imparted dignity 
to character, and enhanced the eftect of greatness. 

It has already been observed that the fundamental principle of 
Dr. ^A'harton's system of thought \vas liberty. He advocated this 
principle as tiie beneficent source of all true progress. He believed 
in free thought, free government, and free seas. His views on all 
these subjects are fully expounded in his ' Commentaries on Law.' 
In law, as governing individual action, he belonged to what he 
termed the progressive division of the historical school, " holding 
that the law of a nation is the product of its conscience and need at 
each particular era." He was equally opposed to the analytical 
school, of which Bentham and Austin are the chief exponents, 
which looks to the final settlement of law by a code founded ujjon 
the doctrines of utility ; and to the theocratic school, which claims 
for its rules jure diviito sanction. In opposition to these theories 
he accepted the arguments of Hooker in his great work on ' Eccles- 
iastical Polity.' This work, as Dr. ^^'harton observed, is unfortu- 
nately chiefly known by a single passage containing a sonoi'ous 
eulogiiUB on law. Almost the only point on which he agreed with 


Austin was in thinking that this passage is somewhat rlietoric-al. 
Dr. "Wharton was aecnstomed to say that it was the least vahiable 
sentence in tiie wonderfnl production, in which it is found. Ac- 
cording to Hooker, divine law, when applied to men in their 
mutable relations, and not definitive of dogmatic theology, is also 
mutable. Much more so, then, must this be true of human law, 
wliich is necessarily formulated for the government of men under 
particular conditions. Referring in his 'Commentaries on Law' to 
Hooker's argument against the theocratic views of the extreme 
Puritans, Dr. Wharton says : " Two points were taken in the reply 
of this illustrious thinker, points erpially fatal to any system of 
absolute law. (a) Reason and revelation, he maintained, including 
in revelation whatever law claims jure divino sanction, have co- 
ordinate authority ; reason has to verify the credentials of revelation, 
then to define its meaning, then to determine its applicability, 
(b) Whatever concerns mau in his mutable relations must of itself 
be mutable ; the boat tosses with the wave on which it reposes, the 
plaster takes the mould of the face on which it is impressed." 
These views, which are practicable only when reason is left free. 
Dr. Wharton fully adopted. 

But in order that men may be able to work out their destiny in 
accordance with the dictates of reason, there must be free govern- 
ment. On this ground Dr. Wharton advocated the widest liberty 
of individual action compatible with social order. Law must, he 
held, in order to be effective, be the emanation of the conscience 
and needs of the people; but he also maintained that it should 
impose as little restraint as possible upon the freedom of action of 
the individual. He was a disciple of Jeiferson, and fully accepted 
the doctrine of lamer fa'ire. He rejected the notion that a majority 
of the pco]ile, because they possess the power to rule, have also the 
right to mould the opinions and form and regulate the lives of the 
rest of the community. 

In international law Dr. Wharton was a strenuous advocate of 
liberal principles, and in his exposition of the policy of the United 
States he laid especial stress upon the importance of preserving the 
rights of neutrals. Whenever he found a decision, either of the 
executive or of the judiciary, which seemed to him to be undnly 
restrictive of those rights, he never failed to combat it. There was 
one case in particular, arising out of the civil war in the United 


States, whose authority he never neglected an opi)ortunity to con- 
trovert. This was the case of tlie " Springbok," in which the 
Supreme Court of the United States condemned a cargo bound for 
a neutral (British) port on the ground that it was intended to be 
transhipped at that port and forwarded on another vessel to a port 
then under blockade. His most thorough and exhaustive discus- 
sion of this case is found in the ' International Law Digest.' The 
decision of the Supreme Court not having been accepted by the 
British government as being in conformity with the principles of 
international law, it was brought for examination before the British- 
American Claims Commission, organized under the treaty of Wash- 
ington. That tribunal affirmed the correctness of the Supreme 
Court's decision, notwithstanding the able and convincing argu- 
ments urged against it. Among these Dr. Wharton was wont to 
refer with especial admiration to that submitted to the Commission 
by his lifelong friend ]Mr. Evarts, an argument full of learning 
and logic, and well worth the study of any one who desires to 
comprehend the principles involved. 

It is not a little remarkable that the last published exj)rcssion of 
Dr. Wharton's vieN\s on law and govei'nment should have contained 
a protest against the doctrine laid down by the Supreme Court 
and accejited by the Commission in the case of the "Springbok." 
In December, 1888, the editor of 'The Independent' addressed a 
letter to a number of eminent men requesting suggestions as to 
what changes were needed in the Constitution of the United States 
in order to bring it " into closer sympathy with the present status 
of political thought." Dr. AVharton was one of the persons thus 
addressed, and his reply was published, under the title of " ' Patches' 
on the Constitution," only a little more than a month before his 
death. It contains the most comprehensive expression to be found 
in so small a comjjass of his opinions on law, politics, and govei-n- 
ment, and is in every respect so characteristic, both in substance 
and in style, that with the consent of the editor of ' The Inde- 
pendent' it is republished as an appendix to this sketch. 

It is proper that something should be said in regard to Dr. 
Wharton's .style. In a review of his ' Commentary on the Law 
of Contracts' a writer in the English ' Law Times' said : " In 
certain respects this is a peculiar law book. It is written with 
more attention to reasonable elegance of style than legal writers 


usually practice Full of learning and research, it is not 

wearisome to read. Matter is never made the slave of form ; but, 
at the same time, the author avoids those awkward and by no 
means persj)icuous attempts at expression, such as ' and which' or 
'that that,' which disfigure our text-books and judgments. Lastly, 
in incidental sentences it will be found that, in estimating the value 
of principles, the author employs a native originality guided rather 
than expelled by the process of legal training." It is a distinctive 
feature of Dr. Wharton's books that, in addition to their conveni- 
ence and authority as works of reference, they possess a peculiar 
literary charm. This is due in large measure to the freshness of 
his thought and the force and vivacity of his forms of expression. 
His tendency was to be diifuse rather than concise. He wrote 
with such facility, and could so easily command words in which 
to convey his thoughts, that he was little given to condensa- 
tion ; but with all the learning which his works display he never 
gives the reader the impression that his erudition was a burden to 
him. He read understandingly, and wrote with a view to eluci- 
date the propositions which he wished to establish. He never 
consciously or unconsciously sought to impress his views by the 
employment of that vague and nebulous style of argument by 
which the reader is sometimes led to mistake mysterious and in- 
tangible generalizations for profundity of thought. If he ever 
indulged in speculations which could not be reduced to a definite 
statement, he never attempted to utter them. He often referred in 
a humorous strain to the mystical productions of writers whose 
ideas, he said, seemed to have been absorbed by an " inverted per- 
spiration." Dr. Wharton always endeavored to be perspicuous. 
Occasionally his sentences are somewhat involved and comjilex in 
construction, but they are never obscure. They give the impres- 
sion of having been thrown out fresh from the writer's mind, in 
the vividness and energy of rapid composition. He was much 
given to the employment of a colloquial or dramatic form of ex- 
pression, in which the argument is put into the mouth of a person 
who is supposed to be speaking in an inartificial and familiar way 
upon the proposition under discussion. Another and constant 
quality of Dr. Wharton's style is the subdivision of his argument 
into separate parts, each one of which is pursued and exhausted by 
itself. The reasons advanced in each part are generally stated in 


the same distinctive and orderh' way. This method he always 
employed in his books, and the habit clung to him even in his 
briefer discussions and in his purely historical writings. This 
analytical method of statement impai'ted clearness as well as a cer- 
tain didactic quality to his style. It was by the emjiloyment of 
a multitude of reasons, rather than by the selection and repetition 
of a single and overwhelming argument, that he sought to estab- 
lish his proposition. It was the quick succession of blows, i-ather 
than the single ponderous shock, that overcame the antagonist. 

It is often the fate of writers who contribute in no small degree 
to mould opinion to be little known except in their books. The 
life of an industrious writer of treatises on law is necessarily spent 
more or less in seclusion. He must have time not only for thought, 
but also for research. I^nlike the author of descriptions of life 
and manners, who acquires his knowledge by contact with men, 
the writer on law must gleau the books for his materials. His 
writings have little circulation among the mass of the people, and 
his labors do not reach the popular imagination ; hence his pei-son- 
ality is generally little inquired about and little known. Dr. Whar- 
ton, in large measure, escaped this fate. He was fond of social 
intei'conrse. He especially delighted in the society of young men, 
whose hopeful views and unchilled enthusiasm found a ready re- 
sponse in his own ardent and progressive temper. In mind and 
in thought he never grew old. In his studies and in his wi-itings 
he possessed all the energy and vivacity of youth. These traits he 
carried with him into social life. Wherever a few persons were 
gathered together for social diversion, and Dr. Wharton made one 
of them, he was the life of the company. He led in the conver- 
sation, and was always sparkling, suggestive, and full of humor. 
He was a master of playful irony. It required a quick and sym- 
pathetic perception to follow and appreciate him, but even those 
who could thoroughly do neither could not fail to catch the con- 
tagion of his lively and spirited mauner. At such times his coun- 
tenance was peculiarly bright and expressive, and his eyes gave 
anticipatory flashes of the thoughts he was about to utter. His 
humor was of a rare quality, and was turbulent and irrepres- 
sible. There were few subjects so serious that he could not per- 
ceive in them a humorous aspect. One would scarcely look for 
such things in a work on criminal law ; but in his treatise on that 


subject we fiud, under tlic title cif " Diversity (if Knowledge among 
Judges," a disquisition on the intoxicant quality of liquors, in which 
the cases and decisions are discussed both upon principle and upon 
authority, but with a liveliness and humorousness of manner quite 
unexpected and entertaining. In the " International Law Digest" 
we find entertainment and instruction peculiarly combined in the 
chapter on official and social intercourse of diplomatic agents. 
The humorous passages found in his serious writings very well 
illustrate Dr. Wharton's manner in general conversation, and show 
the ease with which he could apprehend and state arguments. 

Early in 1889 Dr. "NA'harton's physical powers began percepti- 
bly to fail. An affection of the throat with which he had for a 
long time been troubled to the serious impairment of his voice, 
assumed an aggravated form, rendering his breathing labored 
and difficult and the effort to speak injurious. He was fully 
conscious of the critical features of his condition ; but of all those 
who were concerned in his welfare, he himself exhibited the least 
anxiety. He was always reticent as to his feelings, and rarely 
referred to the personal incidents of his life ; but he was, besides, 
not afraid to look to the end. By the first of February his malady 
liad made such rapid progress that it was thought advisable that he 
should go to Pliiladelphia in order that he might undergo examin- 
ation at the hands of consulting specialists. On the morning of 
the day on which he undertook the journey, he came to his office 
as usual, in order to look over his correspondence and dispose of 
any business that might require attention. Although fully aware 
of his danger, he exhibited no sign of desjjondency, but rather a 
quiet determination to face the worst that might come without 
faltering. The result of the consultation held in Philadelphia 
was communicated to the writer in a letter so illusti'ative of the 
temper and disposition of the sufferer that it is reproduced in this 

"PuiLADKirHiA, Feb. 4. 1889. 

" Dkar Mr. Moore : 

"I have been undergoing a thorough examination by a consult- 
ing committee of specialists to-day, and they coincide in saying 
that there are critical features in my case which can only be met by 
my being confined to my house and chamber for two weeks under 
a specific treatment. Now as the disease is purely local, it will 


greatly amuse me if you will send as usual any papers which I 
can report upon. I will consider this a particular favor. I will 
also be very glad to see you, but I am positively ordered not to say 
a word, so do not come unless there is something you can explain 
to me better by talking than writing. Now be sure to send to me 
any questions that come up, just as you did before. Please show 
this note to Mr. Bayard, with my love. 

" I write this in Philadelphia, expecting to return to-night. 

" Ever yours, 

"F. W." 

Following this letter was a postscript requesting that a gentleman 
who was assisting him in the correction of some proof-sheets 
would call upon iiim at his house immediately after his arrival 
from Philadelphia. 

After bis return from Philadelphia, Dr. Wharton never lefl; his 
chamber. The treatment under which he was placed required close 
confinement and absolute abstention from attempts to speak. For 
a time it seemed to afford relief, and he was encouraged to hope 
that he might be out again. It had been suggested that it might 
be necessary to perform a surgical operation and the prospect that 
this might be avoided tended to dissipate his apprehensions. On 
the 9th of February Dr. "Wharton wrote as follows : — 

" Dear jNIr. Moore : 

"Please send down to my carriage a Congressional Register, 
giving a list of congressmen and our foreign consuls ; also twenty 
or thirty sheets of foolscap Department paper; also my mail and 
anything else you may have for me. I am getting decidedly better. 
The Salisbury-Sackville paper is excellent. The assumption that 
it is for England to determine how far she will interfere in our 
politics and that by international law she is to be the exclusive 
arbiter of this, is intolerable. 

" My lips are sealed, but I can listen, read, and write all the 

The document referred to as the " Salisbury-Sackville Paper" 
was the communication which Mr. Bayard, on January 30, 1889, 
addressed to Mr. Phelps, United States Miuister at London, in 
reply to the note of Lord Salisbury in the Sackville case, in which 


his Lordship assumed the position that the Government of the 
United States, instead of dismissing Lord Sacivville from the post 
of British Minister at Washington, was bound to submit the com- 
plaints against liim to the judgment of his Government, in order 
that it might decide whether they were of such a character as to 
require his removal. Dr. Wharton's brief note discloses the ac- 
tivity with which he continued to work ; and his observations on 
the Sackville case, show that his interest in current public ques- 
tions had not abated, and that he was still capable of expressing 
his views with vigor and clearness. 

About the middle of February, the symptoms of Dr. Wharton's 
disease became more unfavorable. He began to experience greater 
difficulty in respiration and the necessity of a surgical operation 
again became imminent. The tone of his communications lost its 
hopefulness, but he continued steadily at work, cliiefly upon the 
' Diplomatic Correspondence of the Revolution.' In a little book 
entitled the 'Silence of Scrii)ture,' published in 1867, when he was 
rector of St. Paul's Church, in Brookline, ]\Lassachussetts, he 
uttered the following thought : " The oars of Providence are 
muffled. We know not our hour ; and hence, we are to labor as 
if we were to live forever, and trust as if we were to die to-night." 
As we look upon his last days, and observe the unostentatious 
heroism of his conduct, those words spoken twenty years before 
seem prophetic of his end. A few days prior to his decease the 
dreaded operation was performed in order to save him from stran- 
gulation; but, while the shock weakened his vital forces, he uttered 
no complaint, and gave no sign of mental distress. Not long before 
his death he revised the last proofs of the first volume of die 
' Diplomatic Correspondence of the Revolution,' and his cor- 
rections betray no evidence of distui-bance of thought. He was 
laboring as if he were " to live forever," and trusting as if he were 
" to die to-night." From the calmness of his demeanor, one might 
suppose that he had long lived in the presence of death and had 
ceased to dread its near appi'oach. His com'age never wavered 
and his faith did not falter. The lofty purpose, the dauntless reso- 
lution, and the abiding faith which had borne him up through the 
vicissitudes of a life of unremitting effort, were never shown w ith 
greater clearness than in these last moments. In the presence of 
death the secret of his life was revealed. 


Late at night on the twentieth of Feliruan^, 1889, Dr. "NVliarton 
made the first confession of physical weakness which he uttei'ed 
during his ilhiess. He asked for nourishment and expressed a 
desire for repose. Then in brief sentences written on slips of 
paper — for he could not speak — he bade good-night to those who 
were watching by his bedside and begged them to retire to rest. 
Soon after midnight on the following morning, as he lay apparently 
asleep, he was observed to turn his head. He gave no sign of 
anguish but at that moment he ceased to breathe. 

On the reception of the news of his death the Secretary of State 
issued the following order : — 

" Department OF State, 

"Washington, February 21, 1889. 

" Dr. Francis AVharton, the Solicitor of this Department, died 
eai'ly this morning in this city, and his funeral ceremonies will take 
place on Saturday next the 2.3rd instant at two o'clock P.M. at his 
late residence No. 201.3 Hillyer Place. 

" Such officers of this Department as may desire to attend the 
funeral, will not be required to be present at the Department after 
the hour of one P.M. on that day. 

" In making this announcement the Secretary of State desires 
also to jilace upon the files of the Dejiartmeut a mark of recogni- 
tion of the public loss sustained by the death of Dr. Wharton, 
whose eminence as a Jurist, and remarkable attainments as a 
scholar, are attested by his writings — and have enrolled his name 
among the most renowned publicists of our time. 

" His books upon the law remain a monument to his sound 
learning, Avide research, and untiring industry. 

" "\^'ithin the circle of those permitted to enjoy his personal 
companionship, his memory will be cherished as a beloved associate, 
an honorable gentleman, and a sincere Christian. 

"T. F. BAYARD." 

The funeral of Dr. Wharton took place on the twenty-third of 
February, and Mas attended by a large number of his friends. He 
was buried in Rock Creek Cemetery, near the city of Washington. 
He left to survive him a widow and two daughters. To attempt to 
describe the life of a man in the nearest and tenderest of social 


relations always savors of desecration. From these no hand should 
seek to remove the veil with which all sensitive natures wish to 
shield their domestic life from the eye of prurient curiosit)'. The 
remembrance of kindness, sympathy, and devotion, is the appropriate 
treasure of those upon whom they are bestowed. 

It is in keeping with Dr. Wharton's life that no studied tribute 
to his character, should follow the account of his death and burial. 
As with him the end of existence was the end of labor, so we may 
permit this brief sketch of his life and works to stand as his most 
fitting eulogy. 


[The Independent, January 10, 18S9.] 


Swift, in the " Tale of a Tub,"' likened the Christian record to 
three coats which a father left to his three sons with these injunc- 
tions: "Now you are to understand that these coats have two vir- 
tues contained in them ; one in, with good wearing they will last you 
fresh and sound as long as you Hue ; the other is, that they will grow 
in the same proportion as your bodies, lengthening and widening of 
themselves, so as to always ft." It so happened, however, that the 
oldest of the sons, conceivinj^ that the control of the coats belonged 
to him, proceeded to cover them with patches of whatever finery the 
fashion of each succeeding season might make popular, destroying, 
thereby, not merely the excellence of their appearance, but their dura- 
bility and elasticity. They could not be durable if they should have 
their substance subjected to the fastening on and then the tearing off 
of successive laj-ers of stuff. Thev could not be elastic, so as to grow 
with the body of the wearer, if they were stiffened and clogged by heavy superincumbent brocades. 

Swift's coat, as he thus describes it, is a symbol not merely of the 
Scriptural Records, but of all systems which are the products of per- 
manent natural and social conditions. If they are such products, they 
represent in simplicity these conditions, lasting as long as they last, 
growing as they grow, and so enduring jind adapting themselves be- 
cause of their very simplicity. Chief among sy.stems of this character 
is the Constitution of the United States, which is the emanation of 
such conditions of the people of the ITnited States as are permanent. 
It provides for the co-existence of Federal and State sovereignties. 
It provides for the co-ordination of executive, judiciary and legislature. 
It gives the National Government, it gives each department of that 
government, certain clearly defined powers, reserving to States and 
people ail powers which are not so assigned. In this way it provides, 
in case it should not be overlaid with a superstructure of artificial 
construction, impairing at once its durability and its elasticity, a 
system of government which, instead of being swept away by new 
social or economical developments, receives such developments under 
its own shelter as part of a harmonious and yet progressive whole. 


But the Constitution of the United States, durable and flexil)le as 
it is itself, has had its durability threatened and its elasticity dimin- 
ished by factors not unlike those which Swift allegorized in the "Tale 
of the Tub." The most potent and mischievous of these factors was 
the terroristic hyper-conservatism called forth by the French Revo- 
lution. Among men of conservative tendencies, among men who 
distrusted democracy on principle, there was a strong feeling that a 
general assault on vested rights was at hind, and that they must pro- 
tect these rights by all available means. 

In England, the school that was thus generated was led by Castle- 
reagh, by Perceval, by Eklon, followed by the mass of the aristocracy 
trembling for their privileges, and by the great body of squires and 
countrr gentlemen who were incensed at whatever might disturb 
their bovine mastery of their own particular fields. By these classes 
both Houses of Parliament were dominated. 

The accession to power, in 1801, of the Democratic Party pre- 
vented the parallel reaction which had begun in America from affect- 
ing the executive and legislative departments. But extreme Con- 
servatives despaired of the capacity of the Constitution as a barrier 
to resist the torrent of Jacobinism by which they thought civilization, 
religion, morality, threatened. By Hamilton the fabric was spoken 
of as "frail and worthless;" by Gouverneur Morris its failure was 
lamented, but, he thought, could scarcely be averted. All that could 
be done would be to prop it up by buttre.sses and strengthen it by 
exterior walls which might make it a fortress in which privileges 
could be protected, instead of a temple in which liberty was to reign 
by maintaining the full and harmonious play of State and Federal 
Rights, and by securing to the people the undisturbed enjoyment of 
business facilities and of political privileges within the respective 
orbits of state and of nation. 

There was one great and courageous statesman and judge, however, 
who shared the convictions of Hamilton and Morris without sharing 
their despair, and who, in his position as Chief Justice of the United 
States from 1801 to 18.35, aided by an unbroken ascendancy over his 
associates, was able to impose on the Constitution constructions 
which were designed to protect existing institutions, and to repel 
Jacobinical assaults, but which tend to dejjrive it of much of that 
elasticity and comprehensiveness on which its dural)ility as well as 
its utility depend. 

Marshall's great moral and intellectual gifts, as well as his capacity 
as a chief of conservatism in its then supreme conflict with liberalism 
can be best measured l)y comparing him with Eldon, who led the 


same forces in England. Elrlon had nothing- to do \Yith politics in 
his court which as an equity tribunal, excluded such considerations; 
but he had a great deal to do with them in the cabinet, in which, as 
Lord Chancellor, he held a leading position. Marshall had nothing 
to do with politics off the bench, but on the bench he dealt with them 
in the broadest and most effective way, as a large part of the business 
of his court consisted in settling questions of high constitutional law. 
Both were men of great political courage, yet Eldon, while prompt 
and bold in the cabinet, was singularly hesitating and procrastinating 
on the bench, while Marshall when in court never doubted his cou- 
elusions. announcing them promptly and emphatically and with a 
clearness and simplicity in singular contrast with the turgidity and 
involution of P^ldon's style. Both were consummate managers of 
men, but Eldon's management was that of the supple courtier, Mar- 
shall's that of the majestic chief. Eldon was a tactician, manoeuver- 
ing for present vantage ground; Marshall a strategist, planning 
campaigns whose field should be an empire and whose duration an 
era. Eldon's powers were weakened by his jobbery, his greed, his 
avarice ; Marshall's grandeur was enhanced by his homely simplicity 
of life, his scorn of jobbery, his indifference to wealth, showing in his 
own person how little accumulated hoards of money have to do with 
greatness of the highest type. Both were great lawyers, but while 
Eldon was far more proficient in the delicate and intricate departments 
of equity, Marshall surpassed him in the application of common sense 
to the molding of common law. Eldon's Court of Chancery, as such, 
is now swept away, tho' many of the cardinal doctrines laid down by 
him in equity are accepted as part of the dominant law of England ; 
and one of the reasons why his court, as such, fell under the ban was 
the discredit cast on it by his procrastination, his irresolution and the 
enormous expense his system of patronage imposed on suitors. 
Marshall's court is now the strongest and most influential tribunal in 
the world ; and this is, in a large measure, due to the matchless 
dignity he imparted to it, and the strong, plain, ready sense which 
his example set for its judgments. And in their political achieve- 
ments the contrast is still more marked. The result of Eldon's 
political labors— the black acts, the repressive and bloody legislation 
as a whole, which his resolute voice had so large a part in forcing 
through— are now utterly vanished. But the constructions Marshall 
imposed on the Constitution still remain in greater or less vigor. It 
has been a great misfortune for the country that some of these con- 
structions have served, like the tags and patches put on Swift's coat, 
to impair seriously the comprehensive simplicity and the paucity of 


limitation whicli adapt that aroat doeiiiiient, as it stands in tlie origi- 
nal text, to each stage of business or economical development as it 
arrives. Some of the more damaging of the restrictive " patches" 
thus imposed, I now proceed to consider. 

1. Purchase and sale of negotiable paper, loaning money on such 
paper or on other assets, purchase of goods to meet advances at howt: 
or abroad, are matters which can be best arranged and adjusted by 
the competition of private interests, and which are, therefore, not 
within the scope of the Constitution of the United States, and can- 
not be brought within its operation without destroying that very 
capacity of adaptation to successive epochs which gives it perma- 
nency and comprehensiveness. In May, 1T81, as a war measure — 
the war being then at its height, and the Treasury insolvent — Congress 
chartered the national bank, under the title of the Bank of Xorth 
America. In February, 1791, when the country had scarcely emerged 
from the turmoil of the war, when collisions with France and with 
Spain were threatened, and when Britain still refused to fulfil the 
stipulations of the treaty of peace, a charter was granted to the first 
Bank of the United States, with power to discount commercial paper 
and to issue exchange on deposits of assets. In February, 181G, a 
charter to the same effect was again granted, as a measure of Gov- 
ernment relief, in the suspension of banking operations which the 
War of 1812 precipitated. This charter, if sustainable at all, was 
sustainable, as were those of 1781 and 1791, on the ground that a 
government bank Avas necessary to restore to its normal state the 
currency which the prior war had deranged. But in February, 1819, 
when credit was restored, trade returned to its natural channel, and 
the country entering upon a full course of enterprise calling for un- 
fettered business activity, the Supreme Court of the United States, 
Chief Justice Marshall delivering the opinion, held that, not as a 
war measure, but as a permanent system of government. Congress 
could constitutionally put in operation a bank whose functions would 
include the buying and selling of commercial paper, and the issuing 
of exchange on deposits of all kinds, speculative as well as actual. 
Of this construction that by which, many years afterward, it was 
held within the constitutional power of Congress to force purchasers 
of goods to take irredeemable paper money in payment, and even to 
turn gold contracts into paper contracts, was a natural outcome. 

2. The determination to protect existing institutions from the sup- 
posed enmity of democracy, culminated in the Dartmouth College 
case, decided in the same term as that which affirmed the constitu- 
tionality of the Bank of the United States. Dartmouth College 


was then existing under a royal charter which the Legislature of 
New Hampshire undertook to amend. The Supreme Court held 
that such amendment was inoperative, because a college corporation 
is a "private" and not a "public" corporation, and because charters 
of private corporations are contracts which, under the Constitution 
of the United States, a state cannot lawfully impair. The reasoning 
of the court brought not merely colleges, but banks, insurance com- 
panies, and common carriers, when incorporated, under the head 
of "private" corporations, so that privileges and immunities and 
monopolies once granted to them could not be withdrawn. If that 
decision had remained operative, a charter giving a stage corporation 
the exclusive perpetual right to convey passengers from point to point 
would have shut out auy other carriers or any other method of carriage 
forever from the route ; a charter empowering them to fix their own 
rates would make those rates unassailable ; a charter giving the owners 
of a particular reservoir the exclusive right to supply a city with 
water, would prevent any other water supply, no matter how inade- 
quate such a reservoir should prove. Had this " patch" been unalter- 
ably worked into the texture of the Constitution, its life v\'Ould have 
been short. " If you persist in your suppo.sed conscientious con- 
viction that you must veto all bills removing religious tests, your 
Majesty's crown," so the Duke of Wellington substantinlly told 
George IV., "must fall." The majesty of the Constitution would 
have been subjected to a like fate if it was held to contain provisions 
which made perpetual every monopolj', no matter how odious, that 
had been created in the past. 

3. By the law of nations, as construed by the Continental Con- 
gress, and in the sense in which the term was used in the Constitu- 
tion of the United States, freedom of the seas is secured to neutral 
merchant ships with certain well-defined restrictions. They cannot, 
without peril, after notice, enter a blockaded, belligerent port, and 
they are liable to confiscation if they attempt such entrance. They 
are subject to be searched at sea for contraband, and such contraband 
can be confiscated if found on board; but the term contraband is 
limited to munitions of war destined for belligerent use. Outside of 
these bounds they are entitled to traverse the high seas without 
molestation, and they can become carriers for belligerents and for 
belligerent property, the rule being that free ships make free goods. 
Over and over again Congress, during the Revolution, affirmed these 
positions, and a solemn adhesion was given by it to the armed neu- 
trality which adopted them as the basis of its existence. It was with 
no slight exultation at the prospect of prosperity that such a system 


would bring to Americau shipping- that Franklin expatiated on the 
benignity and wisdom of a policy which discouraged belligerency 
and encouraged peace, and which would give the hardy seafaring 
population of America the control of the carrying trade of the world. 

But other views were promulgated by England when engaged in 
her struggle with Xapoleon. Her great enemy had from time to 
time the mastery of the Continent of Europe; she must sink unless 
she obtained the undisputed mastery of the seas. Then there ema- 
nated from her courts a series of judgments greatly e.xtending belli- 
gerent privileges and greatly diminishing neutral rights. Merely 
constructive blockades were sanctioned, and, under what was called 
the doctrine of continuous voyages, it was held that if goods were 
designed (a question as to which prize courts leaned naturally against 
neutrals) for blockade-running, they could be seized at any point on 
the road, though they were to be transshipped at an intermediate port. 
Contraband was swollen so as to include whatever was of value to the 
belligerent, for whose use it was supposed to be intended. So far 
from free ships making free goods, enemy's goods were held open to 
seizure under neutral flags, and neutral ships could be searched for 
them ; and the question of belligerent ownership was, like all other 
disputed questions, to be left, when the seizure was by a British 
cruiser, to a British prize court, the fees of whose ofBcers depended 
in a large measure on making good the capture, and prepos- 
sessions were all in favor of strengthening belligerent power in favor 
of Britain, then in a struggle almost for national existence. 

We must not look too harshly on the tendency of the Supreme 
Court of the United States to sustain, though .sometimes in faltering 
tones, those modifications of the law of nations which came across 
the Atlantic under the great name of Lord Stowell, clothed in the 
fascinating diction of which that judge was a master, and appealing 
to the community of feeling which made Americans as well as Eng- 
lishmen look with aversion at the unscrupulous ambition of Napoleon 
which aimed at the sulyugations of all civilization to his own rapa- 
cious will. England, to many minds, seemed the only bulwark 
against this lawless Cfesarism on the one side, and an equally lawless 
Jacobinism on the other side ; and much as we may be amazed, 
considering what went before, and what came after, at the devotion 
shown by leading Federalists to England in those dark days, we 
must be content to acknowledge that this devotion was at that junc- 
ture felt by some of the purest and noblest men our country has ever 
produced. It was not strange, then, that our Supreme Court should 
then have receded from the revolutionary doctrine of free seas, and 


should have in a measure sustained the destructive views introduced 
by English courts for the purpose of preserving- from destruction 
British maritime supremacy, and with it the cause of revolution 
itself. Xor was it strange that when we ourselves became belliger- 
ents, we should accept these doctrines, perilous as they are to neutral 
maritime rights, as settled law. But it is ground for profound grief 
as well as amazement that as late as December, 18CG, the Supreme 
Court of the United States, in the famous case of the Springbok, should 
have held that it was good groutid to confiscate the cargo of a neutral 
merchant ship, that the ship, at the time of search and seizure, was 
on the way to an intermediate neutral port for transshipment to a 
lilockaded port of the enemy, though the seizure was made a thousand 
miles off from the port of final destination. When this ruling was 
made, the Civil War, by the judgment of the Supreme Court, had 
been closed for nearly a year. We were at peace with all the world. 
Our merchant shipping, it is true, was driven from the seas, but there 
was every prospect, on the basis of international law, as the Constitu- 
tion meant it, of our old maritime strength being renewed. Our future 
had neutrality almost indelibly stamped on it, while the future of the 
Old World was marked by war which made each great sovereignty 
an armed camp and filled each great port with swift cruisers ready, 
in case of conflict, to pounce, not merely on an enemy, but on neutrals 
who might presume to do any carrying trade on the high seas. With 
such a prospect before us we deliberately gave away the opportunity 
of covering the seas with our merchant service. No wonder the 
English law officers chuckled with delight at such a surrender on our 
part, and declined, before the mi.xed commission afterward consti- 
tuted, to impeach the Springbok ruling. It made England, already 
dominant on the seas, master not only of her shipping, but of ours. 
It would enable her ne.xt time she goes to war with a European foe, 
to cut matters short, and, in addition to blockading her enemy's ports 
of entrance, to blockade our ports of e.xit, and to say : " You are the 
feeders of my enemy — from you come the grain and other staples 
which nourish him — in addition to enlarging the list of contraband 
so as to comprehend stores. I now, in conformity with your 
own law, as propounded in the Springbok case, blockade your ports 
so as to keep your ships from carrying out anything the enemy might 
use. You blockaded my neutral port of Nassau ; / l)lockade your 
neutral port of New York." It is not strange that American ship- 
ping should languish when under such a ban as this. 

Such are among the "patches" which have been woven into our 
constitutional coat by its guardians, and which so far as they are per- 


manont, take from it the propei'ty which origiiiiilly helonned to it of 
growing' with our growth. One of these patches, that imposed by 
tlie Dartmouth College decision, has been substantially got rid of, 
partly by overruling by the court itself, partly by constitutional 
amendments in most States which preclude granting charters without 
reservation of power of amendment. The "patch" which assumed 
to the Federal Government the power to sell exchange to create illu- 
sory currency and to absorb banking privileges, has been removed, so 
far as it sanctioned a national government bank, by popular action ; 
but it remains in its worst feature in the legal-tender ruling by which 
it is held that Congress can, as a permanent peace system, force the 
reception of irredeemable paper in payment of debts old as well as 
new. And the Springbok ruling, while repudiated by the e.xecutive 
branch of the Government, still remains unassailed in the records of 
the judiciary. 

The Constitution itself requires no amendment; but what is re- 
((uired is the removal from it of the "patches," impairing its sym- 
metry, its comprehensiveness, its elasticity and its durabilitj^, which 
have l)('en imposed on it by the judiciary. 



AmoXG the public testimonials that came in large number to 
express sympathy and appreciation afler his death, the following 
are selected for publication : — ■ 

•'The Columbiax University, 

"Washington, March 1, 1889. 

" My deae Mrs. Whaktox : 

" At a meeting of the Faculty and students of the Law School 
of the Columbian University, held in the Lecture Hall of the 
University on the 25th ultimo, the following preamble and reso- 
lutions were unanimously adopted in honor of the memory of our 
late beloved colleague, Dr. Francis Wharton. The paper was pre- 
jiared by Professor ]\Ianry, and was prefaced with some brief re- 
marks in which I bore my humble tribute to the vast learning, 
the gracious virtues, and the exalted worth of your lamented hus- 

'' You and your family ai-e called to sit at the point where the 
shadow of this great bereavement is deepest, but the shadow falls 
with an op})ressive weight on the hearts of thousands besides. 

" With sincere sympathy, I am 

" Yours most truly, 


" Preamble and resohdiom adopted at a meetitif/ of the Faculty and 
student.^ of the Columbian University, on the occasion of the 
death of Fraxcis Wharton, LL.D. 

" The unlooked-for death of our learned friend, Dr. Francis 
Wharton, will be felt in this country and Eui-ope as a serious loss 
to jurisprudence, and has deprived the Faculty of the Columbian 


Uuiversitv of a member who was devotwi to her \\elfare and ever 
rcadv to take part iu her work, even when it seemed hardly pos- 
sible that he could find time to do so, and at the risk of aggra- 
vating a malady which never left him, and which may have con- 
tributed to his death. His sacrifice of convenience for the purpose 
of lending his cooperation to the cause of legal education in this 
University will be remembered with affectionate gratitude. Of his 
lectures it is but the truth to say that they were as interesting as 
learning and felicity of style and manner could make them, and 
were listened to with an intense and ever-growing interest. 

" Dr. AVharton's laboi-s as an author have made his name familiar 
to every lawyer in the country for many years. 

"The profession owe him much for the frequency with which he 
directs, in his discussions, the minds of his readere to the sources 
of jurisprudence to be found in the majestic remains of the Roman 
law and the works of the jurists of Germany and France ; and 
there can be little doubt that the general aptness of these refer- 
ences, and the al)sence of display in making them, has'e had and 
will continue to have a tendcncty to excite a desire for studies 
which give a philosophical habit of thought and at the same time 
embellish the professional mind. 

" He belonged to the historical scliool of jurisprudence. In his 
' Commentaries on American Law' he introduces us to the opinions 
of Savigny and other jurists of Europe of that school, and what he 
says there about the Constitution of the United States being but 
the appropriate expression of a deep-laid and long pre-existent sen- 
timent of the popular mind of the thirteen colonies was confidently 
appealed to recently, by a distinguished jurist, to show the fallacy 
of the remark of tlie great commoner of England that our plan of 
federal government was struck off at one heat, like the Constitu- 
tion or the rescript of a Roman emperor. 

" It is a satisfactory mark of the estimate that was placed abroad 
on Dr. Wharton's juridical labors that he was made a member of 
that august fellowship, the Institute of International Law. The 
honor thus conferred may be said to have been fairly reciprocated 
by the important contribution of his ' Digest of International Law,' 
which, in addition to being a service to the world, must tend to 
promote consistency and continuity in the foreign policies of the 
United States. So favorably impressed was Congress by this work 


that, at its last session, it directed that the series of state papers 
known as the ' Diplomatic Correspondence of the Eevolutioo' 
should be edited by him with legal and historical notes. It will 
be a cause for regret if it should turn out that he died l>cfore com- 
jjleting this woi'k. 

" When we contemplate his intellectual excellence and the graces 
and purity of his character, and that beautiful simplicity which 
belonged to him and which always goes hand in hand with a 
:iature that is truly superior, we have before us a man of whom 
his country may justly be proud : therefore, be it resolved: 

" 1. That in the death of Dr. Francis Wharton we deplore the 
loss of a jurist whose labors have added lustre to the fame of his 
country in the field of jurisprudence. 

" 2. That in his elevated and stainless character we see reflected 
the influence of the teachings of the great science to which he dedi- 
cated so large a part of his life. 

" 3. That we tender the family of the deceased our sincere 

" 4. That the chairman be and he is, hereby, requested to send a 
copy of the proceedings of this meeting to the family of the de- 
ceased, and to take the jJi'oper steps to have the same entered in 
the minutes of the Board of Trustees of the University." 

"The burial of tlie Rev. Francis Wliarton, L.L.D., who, for the 
last three years, has resided in A^'ashington, took place on February 
23, the services being conducted by the Rev. Dr. John H. Elliott, 
and the Rev. A. Harding. This distinguished jurist was long con- 
nected with the Cambridge Divinity School, and for several years 
past with the State Department. His works are standard ; and are 
a text-book in one of our best law-schools." 


" At a meeting of the Faculty of the Episcopal Theological 
School, held February 25, 1889, the following action was taken in 
regard to the death of Francis Wharton, D.D., LL.D., late Solici- 
tor of the Department of State, ^^'ashington, D. C. 

"I. The Faculty of this school desire to express their great ad- 


miration of Dr. Whai-tou's abilities, both as a jurist, tlie field in 
which he served his (■ouutry well and long, and as theologian, 
in which he served not his Church onl}- but American Chris- 

" II. Their sense of the great service rendered bv him to this 
school at its ince})tion, as organizer, administrator, and general 

" III. Their grateful recollection of many years of personal inter- 
course with him as a member of this Facidty and in the hospitable 
fi-eedom of his home. 

" IV. They resolve that the above action be entered on their 
records, and that the Secretary be requested to send a copy of the 
same to Mrs. "Wharton, conveying to her at the same time the 
assurance of their participation in the irreparable personal loss 
sustained by herself and her family. Also that a copy be sent for 
publication in 'The Churchman.' 


" Secretary of the Faculty. 
"Cambridoe, Febniiiry 25, 1889." 

" At a meeting of the Board of Trustees of ' St. Peter's by the 
Sea,' held at Narragansett Pier, E. Island, on Monday, June 24, 
1889, the death of Francis Wharton, D.D., LL.D., having been 
announced, the following Eesolutlons were unanimously adopted : 

" Resolved. — That the Trustees of ' St. Peter's by the Sea' have 
heard, with pain, of the death of their long honoi-ed friend and 
associate, as having occurred, since their last annual meeting. 

" Besolved. — That, as individuals, we cherish the memory of our 
agreeable intercourse with him, here and elsewhere, during many 
years past. 

"Resolved. — That, as members of this Board, we gratefully recall 
the steadfast interest, which he has displayed, and the valuable 
services which he has rendered since the first organization of the 
Board — his judicious counsels — his ready contributions of time, 
eiforts, and money, in aid of the important measures, which, from 
time to time, have come before us. 

" Resolved. — That we tender to his family our sincere syraimthy 
with them in their bereavement, and the assurance of our warmest 
wishes for their happiness and welfare. 


" Besokcd. — That the Socretaiy be requested to place these 

Resolutions ou the Miuutes of the Board, and to transmit a copy 

of tliem to Mrs. Wharton. 



"Waltham, Mass., July 16, 1S89. 

" My Dear INIrs. Wharton : 

" At the annual meeting of the Massachusetts Church Missionary 
Society holden in Boston, the Secretary announced the lamented 
death of Dr. Wliarton, and the following minute %\-as adopted and 
ordered to be placed upon the records : — 

" Whereas, since the last meeting of this Society the Rev. Francis 
Wharton, D.D., LL.D., has been removed from the scene of his 
earthly labors, Renolved, That we put upon record our high appre- 
ciation of his many distinguished qualities, and his efficient service 
both to the church and the country. Dr. Wharton was for several 
years an active member of this Society, and we cherish an affecting 
memory of his wise counsels and genial presence. As a zealous 
and valued member of our executive committee he contributed very 
much to the usefulness and prosperity of this Society. 

" Eesolved. — That the Secretary be instructed to communicate this 
action to his family, with an assurance of our very deep sympathy. 

" Very sincerely y'rs, 


From tiie 'Cluirchman' is taken the following tribute from the 
able pen of Bishop Leonard, of Ohio. 

DIED 188!». 

"BY ItEV. W. A. LEONARD, D.l). 

" The secular and religious newspapers have made mention in 
the past few days of the life and death of a remarkable man — the 
Rev. Dr. Francis Wharton. I do not propose to sketch an outline 
of his varied career, nor can I hope to do justice to his great gifts. 
Suffice it only to indicate some of iiis characteristics. The places 
he once occupied, and the distinguished positions he has filled with 
marked ability and conscientious fidelity, bear full testimony to his 
skill and his worth, while they measure the advances he made in 


the .'several departments of learuing which his pre.scnce adorned 
and his full sc-iiolarship enriched. AVe are apt to turn to Germany 
and England for our profound types of thought and erudition. 
From time to time we hear that this new land of enterprise and 
material advance has failed as yet to produce the philosopher, the . 
laborious student, or the profonnder intellectual cultivation that 
belongs to the cloisters and universities of the older centres of 
learning across the seas. Let us not be too oblivious of our own 
development, or blind to the character and quality of Ijraiu and 
soul that is produced now in our own fresher environment. 
Because in all departments of life and letters, it is .splendidly true 
that men of devoted effort, and keenest scientific force — and pro- 
found intellectual gra.sp — and phenomenal industry and persevering 
patience, are being born here among us, and are serving their gen- 
eration, of whom the world of two continents may well be proud. 
Dr. Wharton takes his place among this galaxy of scholais. His 
fellow countrymen have reason to be justly appreciative of his 
talents and his distinctions, and his Church has good reason to be 
thankful for the powers which he consecrated to her service. The 
work done by Dr. Wharton in Philadeljihia, in Kenyon College, at 
Cambridge, and finally here at AA'ashington, was characterized by 
sedulous attention, deepest investigating effort, large grasp, accurate 
accumulation, direct utilization and dominating strength. His work 
was not evane.scent, but lasting ; it lives, and he lives in it ! He 
projected his investigations into remotest, loneliest and most diffi- 
cult fields — whether in theology, philosophy, history, or law. He 
read and wrote continuously and constantly ; in these later years, 
when holding the conspicuous and honorable office of law adviser 
to the State Department, his toil through winter and summer was 
subject of remark and of admiration. He was always busy with 
his books and pajxirs, yet always kindly attractive and willing to 
impart to others what he had so diligently and carefully hived and 
stored. His mind was encyclopsedic ; he was an authority, and a 
very agreeable authority on such topics and subjects as were sub- 
mitted to him for an opinion. His works on theology, on inter- 
national law, on medical jurisprudence, on the criminal code ; his 
knowledge of history, arts, inventions ; his great learning in all 
these branches made him, though one of the simplest and most 
modest of men, one of the great scholars of his day. In speaking 


of him to Dr. "Welling, the president of our Columliiau Univei-sity, 
here at the capital, the following graceful expression was drawn 
forth, and I transcribe it most gladly as the added ornament to 
this simple chaplet of remembrance I would lav upon his grave : 
' Having been honored with Dr. Wharton's fi-ieudship during the 
last iifteen or twenty years, I had come to be acquainted with the 
extent and accuracy of his learning not only in theology and juris- 
prudence, but also in civil and political history — especially in all 
matters pertaining to British and American affairs. His knowledge 
here was surprisingly minute. 

" ' Onlv a few days before his death I had occasion to consult him 
on an obscure point in our revolutionary anuals (the part which 
Richard Henry Lee is alleged to have had in the cabal against Gen. 
AVashington), and I had no sooner stated my question than fact 
after fact came pouriug from his full mind in answer to my inquiry. 
This is only one of the many instances in which I have profited by 
the wide range, and at the same time, the thoroughness of his 
knowkxlge in our political history. He seemed as much at home 
in the " untrodden way" as in the beaten paths.' 

"Indeed, this good man. who bore the mark of the priest and 
prophet on his heart, while he carried the lamp of truth in his 
hand, fulfilletl the outline of the Roman Cicero when he said, ' I 
speak of that learning which makes us acquainted with the bound- 
less extent of nature and the universe and which, e\eu while we 
remain in this woi'ld, discovers to us both heaven, and earth, and 
sea.' " 

[From the Episcopal Recorder.] 

" The public press a short time since recorded the death in "Wash- 
ington of one whose name was familiar to most of those who were 
acquainted with the long continued struggles in the Protestant 
Episcopal Church which led to the establishment of our own 
beloved refuge therefrom. 

" While speaking of the achievements of Francis "Wharton, 
LL.D., the -Associated Press also mentioned the fact that he was 
at one time editor of the ' Episcopal Recorder.' Xor is the time 
so far removed that many of our older readers cannot recall the 
force and ability with which the work of the paper was carried on 
under his manasrement. 


" Possessing rare mental qualities, and a memory stored witli an 
abundance of material always at hand, Dr. Wharton had a felicity ■ 
of stvle rarely surpassed, while his discrimination and critical 
acumen, added to his clear conceptions of the truth, made him a 
writer not easily equalled in the realm of evangelical journalism. 
These characteristics were manifested by Dr. "Wharton equally in 
the authoritative legal treatises which have given him an enduring 
reputation, and from their pages could easily be culled extracts 
which would prove the compatibility of the profoundcst legal lore 
with the distinctive principles always upheld by the ' Recorder.' 
Those principles have continued to be maintained by the ' Recorder' 
through every vicissitude and many changes, and to-day, with what- 
ever difference of ability in its conduct, the very same fundamental 
principles underlie its columns that led to its establishment more 
than sixtv years ago, thus attaching to its name and history a sig- 
nificance which hardly belongs to any other of our contemiwraries. 

" While editing the ' Recorder' Dr. Wharton was a layman ; 
later in life he entered the ministry, continuing in active service in 
Massachusetts for several years. Precluded from preaching how- 
ever by an affection of the throat, which grew more serious until 
the time of his death, he resumed in some measure his legal labors, 
producing in this period of bis life some of his most elaborate and 
bio-hlv esteemed treatises. Indeed, unceasing activity ^vas a con- 
dition of his being, and we question Mhether there was a day in 
which he did not produce something that was to pass through the 
printer's hands. The last four years of his life were spent in the 
sei-vice of tiie State Department, where he shed lustre iqion a posi- 
tion in itself subordinate, which was tendered him by the party 
recently in control of the government. 

" Possessed of a most genial nature, and of wide and generous 
sympathies, few men made more warm and enduring friendships, 
or enjoved a larger circle of more than passing acquaintances. 

"The writer of these lines gazed upon the pallid features of our 
predecessor after the all-conquering hand of death had been laid 
upon them. The placidity and sweetness there fixed gave indica- 
tions of the permanent influence exerted by the moulding hand of 
character, and the lineaments of the earthly tabernacle so soon 
to pass away, gave the sweet impression of rest attained, and of 
work accomplished. 


"In one of the last conversations it was our pleasure to hold 
with Dr. Wharton, we found him maintaining the same religious 
opinions he so ably advocated in these columns many years before, 
though he was not one of those who felt impelled to sever his con- 
nection with the Church of his youth when Bishop Cummins took 
the step for which so many had long M^aited, and of which so few 
comparatively availed themselves. 

" Bound to him by many personal ties, the writer can testity to 
the kindliness which flowed from his heart, and which conveyed so 
much pleasure to those around him, and which often turned the 
edge of an otherwise keen criticism. AVhen his end was approach- 
ing he calmly met the event with entire submission to God's will, 
and without a jjang he passed from earth to the presence of Christ. 

" Others may well speak of the active labors in which he was 
engaged at Gambier, at Cambridge, and thi-ough the active years 
of his early life, labors unceasing, earnest and valuable, by which 
he sought to advance the cause of Christ and to preserve the truth 
in its purity within the Church of his love. Our duty is ended 
when we make this slight allusion to his connection with the 
' Episcopal Recorder,' and add one flower to the chaplet which 
will be deservedly woven to his meniorv." 

Of the letters from friends and neighbors, from early associates, 
from clergymen and laymen avIio had known and loved Dr. Whar- 
ton and mourned his death there is scarcely room in this memo- 
rial. It has rarely fallen to the lot of any man who has won a 
place in public esteem to have so endeared himself in private life 
that his death should evoke such universal sympathy. Nothing 
but the fear of violating private correspondence has restrained ns 
from printing some of these. Two, however, to Mhich the consent 
of the writers has been obtained, are given below : — 

"Wilmington, Del., May 13, 1890. 

" My dear Mrs. Wharton : 

" The two notes written to }-our dear husband liy me were read 
with much feeling, recalling as they did a relation alwavs full of 
respect, confidence, and personal affection. 

" Certainly, print them if you desire to do so. We were so much 
together that nearly all our most intimate correspondence was in 


scraps of notes, by messengers, and conversations in the State De- 

" No one could have enjoyed, or left, as the legacy of iiis life, a 
higher or more enviable reputation than Dr. Wharton, and I shall 
have a sincere, even if melancholy, pleasure in the memorial pro- 

" The order issued by the Secretary of State on the occasion of 
Dr. AVharton's funeral was written wholly by me, and is a very 
restrained expression of the sense of public and private loss then 

" It was always a deep satisfaction to me to have been instru- 
mental in bringing the virtues, ability, and character of your Ims-* 
baud iuto the service of the country, and making his real worth 
and accomplishments better known to his countrymen. Believe me 
to be, dear ^Madam, " Faithfully yrs., 

"Jliis. Francis Whartox." 

The second of the notes referred to is as follows : — 

"Department of State, 
"Washixgtox, April 30, 1887. 

" ilY DEAR Doctor : 

" I heard with great concern of your indisposition, and urge 
upon you great care in this mod treacherous weather. 

" I suppose that to work is now your second nature, and that 
like the retired butcher, who refreshed himself by killing a lamb 
now and then, you will tear np the claim of some poor innocent 
slave trader, and expose reasons wiiy he should not be paid for 
want of success in the line of his pursuits. Mr. Moore and I are 
hammering iuto shape a third column of ' deadly parallel' to the 
observations of the Britisii Foreign Office in our proposal for an 
arrangement of the fislieries. 

" I begin to have some small hopes that the Canadians may not 
press us to the wall, arid compel non-intercourse, and sincerely I 
hope that good sense n^ay rescue our imjjortant trade from the 
senseless folly of the lex talionis. 

" Take care of yourself, my good friend — you are wanted in 
this world, and among the rest 

" By your attached friend, 

"Dr. Francis WuAiiTox." 


The other tribute is from the distinguished pen of the 


" Uplands, Bkooki.ine, Mass., 21 Sept., 1889. 
" 'Six DEAR Mrs. Wiiartox : 

" I am most glad to learu tiiat you are preparing a memoir of 
your lamented husband. Few things would attbrd me greater 
satisfaction than to contribute in ever so small a degree to its com- 
pletion. I counted Dr. "Wharton for many years among my most 
intimate and valued friends, and the longer I knew him the more 
I regarded him as one of the most accomplished men of our time. 

"I recall the interest with which I listened to his sermons while 
he was rector of our Brookline ' St. Paul's,' and the even gi-eater 
interest with which I read the lectures which he delivered and 
publisiied on ' The Silence of Scripture.' 

" ^Meanwhile his valuable and efficient services in building up 
our Episcopal Divinity School at Cambridge, of which he was 
long a Professor and sometime the Dean, were familiar to me as 
one of the original trustees. He will be remembered at Cam- 
bridge, as well as at Brookline, by many warm friends, and the 
school will always include him among its earliest benefactors. 

"But he will be longest remembered in his relations to juris- 
prudence and international law. His labors in this field were of 
the highest character, and I trust that they will be dealt with, in 
the proposed memoir, by some competent hand. I have spent 
many an hour with him, quite recently, in the State Department at 
Washington, while he was at ^vork on his admirable ' Digest' and 
after he had entered on new researches, and I was always impressed 
with his singular adaptation to that position. Alas, that he should 
have been taken away so suddeuh' from a sphere which hardly any 
one else could fill so M'ell ! We may look long in vain for such 
rich accomplishments and so large a capacity for public usefulness, 
combined with so genial and affectionate a nature in private life. 

" I need not say how sorry we all were to hear of his death, and 
deeply we sympathize with you and his daughters in this afflicting 

"Believe me, dear Mrs. A\'harton, with great regard, 

" Yours sincerely, 


"Mrs. Francis Wharton." 


The revered ex-President of Yale College, Dr. Noah Porter, has 
sent us the following, and it is pecidiarl}' gratifying to be able 
to give in the words of one who knew something of the earlier life 
of Dr. Wharton, the closing tribute of this volume : — 

" It is some fifteen years since the beginning of my acquaintance 
with the late Dr. Francis Wharton, an intimacy which matured 
into a warm friendship which I would f^in hope may be ripened 
in another life. I was at Peacedale in Rhode Island, on a brief 
visit at the charming home of the kindly and hospitable philosopher, 
the late Rowland Hazard, when he proposed that we should call on 
Dr. Wharton at his cottage some three miles distant, near Narra- 
gansett Pier, and looking out upon tlie open ocean. This call led 
in the next season to an unexpected but most cordial invitation from 
the Doctor that I would spend a week most unceremoniously at the 

" I could not easily withstand the attraction of the place, and the 
simple cordiality of the family of my host, and as a consequence 
for some twelve years or more I enjoyed a midsummer day dream, 
the spells of which were controlled by Dr. Wharton as the master 

" It is not casv to interpret or describe the secret of his power 
or the charm of his genius. That he was no common man is evi- 
dent from the variety of work which he attempted ; and from the 
fact that he jierformed it so well, also from the fact that he com- 
manded the attention and received the respect of so great a number 
and so great a variety of men each eminent in his specialty. 

" As we review his life, we should not forget that he was Editor, 
Essayist, Advocate, Preacher, Ecclesiastical Lawyer, College, Sem- 
inary, and Law School Professor, and voluminous Author in a Legal 
and Political sense. Last of all, not least, he became Legal Ad- 
visor to the State Depai-tment at Washington, on points conuected 
with International Law. 

" We learn from those who knew him intimately when in College 
tliat he was by no means a hard or painful student, but performed 
his tasks with singular ease and rapidity, outstripping his older 
competitors with little effort, indeed, and with so little as to turn 
his tasks into pastimes. We know that before he had attained his 
majority he had taken sides as an editor and political partisan 
against the traditions of his family, and this not alone, if so some- 


what, with the riaot sportiveness of jubilant youth as with the 
graver earnestness of incipient manhood. The after development 
that came with bereavement and seemed to change the current of 
his inner life will tell its own story as it alone can explain how his 
manhood emei-ged into a new and unexpected form — at once so 
serious, so thoughtful, so strong, and again so gay, so sportive, and 
so dependent upon others. 

"The Christian Catholicity of his temper and position were 
most interesting when viewed as the ripened product of his 
knowledge of the world. 

"We have reason to believe that his opinions in respect to the 
relation of ecclesiasticism to the progress of the kingdom of God 
in this country may have changed under the varied experiences 
of his ministry in Ohio and Rhode Island, while his personal rela- 
tions as preacher and rector were always most satisfactory, as they 
were eminently unselfish, while to his associates in the ministry his 
wisdom and technical knowledge could be no other than a boon. 
The preparation and proof-reading of so many bulky Law Treatises 
involved a discipline to the most accurate and painstaking habits, 
while the higher ethical and religious aspects of Juris])rudence 
imparted a dignity and sacredness to jural and legal philosophy 
which seemed to turn the driest of his morning studies into acts 
of cheerful worship. 

"To those who knew Dr. Wharton I need not recall the gentle 
humanity which lent such a charm to his manner and invested the 
occasional plainness of his speech with an indescribable sweetness. 

" His unselfish interest in the summer residents and the transient 
guests, who came and went to and from the Pier with the summer 
weeks and months, will be gratefully remembered by scores of the 
recipients of his unexpected attentions. His painstaking sei'vices 
and his unwearied etforts for their personal comfort and social 
enjoyment exemplified to not a few some new conception of the 
injunction to be ' given to hospitality.' 

" It need not be said that such a life as his was a very busy life 
and that there was reason to fear that it might suddenly be cut 
short. Dr. Wharton had himself begun to heed the voice of 
warning and to contract his sphere of public and professional duty 
when he was invited to the post of all others which his jjrevious 
studies had qualified him to occupy with satisfoction to himself 


and to his friends. To occupy tiiis post involved no partisan 
allegiance nor even political sympathy, but simply a mastery of 
the public Law in its history and its principles as a guide for the 
public action of its oihcials. ]S\) post could be more iionorable or 
more independent, and it was accepted with a just appreciation of 
its value, but it was taken to be relinquished, and thus to add one 
more to the many lessons which point us to another life as the 
explanation and completion of the life we live on this earth." 


Among the numberless reviews ami criticisms of his legal writ- 
ings we select the following as doing partial justit« to his merits : — 


" The death is announced of Francis Wharton at 'Washington on 
the 21st of February, 1889, of a complication of throat troubles. 

"Prof. Wharton was born in 1820, at Philadelphia, of distin- 
guished ancestry, many members of the race having won eminence 
in Pennsylvania, and having affiliations with prominent South 
Carolina families. He was graduated at Yale College in 1839, at 
the age of nineteen, and after completion of the requisite legal cur- 
riculum, he was appointed, in spite of his youth, to an assistant 
attorney-generalship in his native State and city. This gave the 
ambitious young lawyer's attention a bent towards criminal law. 
Those who are familiar with the libraries of lawyers fifty years ago 
will appreciate the value to the then practitioner of any good work 
upon any subject. The young prosecuting attorney, as an induc- 
tion from his court labors, ])ublished his well-known work on 
criminal law, which has ever since held its ground in the helluo 
librorum that have been issued since from the American press. 
The work gave the young man both i-eputation and iinaucial re- 
ward, and probably induced him to regard law authorship as there- 
after his special branch of the profession. There was nothing in 
Prof. Wharton's temperament which restricted him to the study of 
merely criminal law. His work (in connection with Stille) on 
medical jurisprudence, his singularly able treatise upon private 
international law, his elaborate work on contracts, and his labors 
on the law of evidence, indicate how broad was his grasp of the 
field of jurisprudence. His studies have led to his selection as a 
professor for different chairs in law schools and elsewhere. We 
believe that from 1869 till his death he was an instructor in the 
Boston University. From 1856 to 1862 he occupied a chair of 
ethics and constitutional law in Kenyon College, Ohio, whither he 
was led by his strong affection for the Low Church side of the 
Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States, of which that 
school was an educational nursery. 


"As the writer of this tribute tu iiis luemorv remembers him at 
that date, his lectures on Theism were strong expositions of the 
attitude and reasoning of the Evangelical Christian upon the then 
gro\viug agnosticism or skepticism rife inside and outside the Epis- 
copal communion, and which now find tlieir index in the pages of 
works such as ' Robert Elsmere.' These lectures were, perhaps, in 
many respects a shooting over the heads of his audience; but there 
was one noticeable charm about the instruction he strove to impart, 
it was the wealth of illustration which he drew from his youthful 
experience at the Philadelphia bar, and from a period when the 
earlier greatness of the republic still held dominion over the practice 
of the law either by tradition or in the personal presence of men, 
the compeers of Webster, Choate, and Binney. 

" The last formal employment of Dr. Wharton was, we believe, 
that of law adviser to the State Department at Washington. While 
a Democrat in politics, of the old State-rights school. Prof. Whar- 
ton never abandoned the impartial attitude of a lawyer weighing 
with deliberation every political or legal proposition ; and it is no 
over-statement to characterize his employment under the outgoing 
administration as one of the fittest and most illustrious for the 
capacity wherein he acted that could have been made. 

"As above suggested. Prof Wharton was a devoted churchman 
in his church. He took orders, and at one time narrowly escaped 
election as bishop or assistant bishop of Kentucky." 


" The ninth edition of this work has just been issued. The text 
has been condensed in some places, but new matter has been in- 
serted, so that it is now a volume of nearly nine hundred pages. 
It contains the law as it is to-day, and to those engaged in criminal 
jiractice it is of great assistance. The revision of this volume was 
about the last labor of Prof. Wharton, and it will rank among the 
best of his writings. He wrote the first edition when he was quite 
young— just entering on his career as a law-writer — and this edi- 
tion is issued just as he had reached the end. A comparison of the 

* A Treatise on Criminul Pleading and Practice, by Francis Wharto"' 
LL.l)., author of Treatises on Criminal Law, Evidence, Conflict of Laws, and 
Negligence; 9th ed. Philadelphia: Kay & Brother, 1889. 887 pp. ; |6. 



two editious shows, not only the growtli of tliis branch of legal 
learniuo- during the last thirty odd years, but the effect of the 
author's experience. 

" Now that Prof. Wharton is dead, it may not be out of place 
for me to add here a few words of tribute to him. He had a legal 
mind in the best sense of that term. He appreciated the nicest 
distinctions, and discriminated closely and clearly. His mind was 
philosophical ; he treated his subjects in that manner ; he examined 
questions fully upon authority, and often went beyond authority 
into exhaustive discussions upon pure principle. He is best known 
as a law-writer, not as a practitioner, although he was for some 
years engaged in active practice at Philadelphia. 

" His writings show, not merely a thorough knowledge of legal 
principles based upon the common law, but an extensive knowledge 
and familiarity with the civil law. His early writings evidenced 
an inclination to treat of subjects relating to the criminal branch of 
our profession, as witness his works on Criminal Law, Precedents 
of Indictments and Pleas; but in his later years he wrote his 
admirable works on Negligence, Evidence in Civil Issues, Com- 
mentaries on American Law, and Conflict of Laws. 

" The last named is, perhaps, his greatest work. The style of 
his writings is remarkably succinct and forcible, wasting no words, 
yet leaving no thought imperfectly expressed. He wrote rapidly 
— exceedingly so — but he con-ected his manuscript with great care. 
If a word did not suit him, or if he .believed it capable of a mean- 
ing different from the one intended, or did not express the finished 
thought of his mind, it was discarded and another sought. His 
industry was wonderful. His endurance seemed to know no limit. 
If not, perhaps, our country's greatest law-writer, he certainly was 
one of the best, and no one can gainsay that he was the severest 
student and sturdiest laborer of tliem all." 


"The life woi-k of Dr. Francis Wharton was so far and so much 
of a purely technical character that his reputation in his profession 
far overtopped his fame outside of the bar. Yet the death of such 
a man is as much of a loss to the public as to publicists, and it 
leaves relatively as wide a gap in letters as in law, for Dr. Wharton 


maintained and preserved to our own day the earlier tradition of 
our juridical scieuce which made a text-book in law an addition to 

"The value of his works to the bar of his own day has been 
sufficiently shown bv their sale ; but this compliment is but too often 
paid to treatises to wliich it is possible to attach importance only 
until some new compilation sujiersedes them. The volumes with 
which Dr. Wharton enriched the literature in which American 
letters has some of its noblest monuments, owed to style and philo- 
sophic arrangement no small part of the value they possessed, and 
it is these qualities which render permanent the work of a jurist. 
For in law as in all else, tlie form of a great work decides its 
survival, although it is powerless alone to gi%'e it value. It is one 
of the many proofs of the business character our law is taking that 
form is ceasing to be of much consequence in decision, brief or 
discussion. Codes, valuable as they may be, have done incalculable 
injury in the last forty years to the practice of law as an art in- 
stead of as a mere pursuit. 

" Beginning his work as a legal writer just when the foundation 
of American jurisprudence had been laid by Kent and Story, Dr. 
Francis Wharton turned his early attention to criminal law and 
did ranch by his treatment and discussion to unite and co-ordinate 
the legislation and practice of our various States in a branch of law 
which only -in the rarest instances conies for review before the 
Federal Supreme Court anJ in which the tendency towards 
differing systems is strong. His great work on American statute 
law is certain to have a like influence in another field and con- 
tributes one of the pow'erful agencies which unconsciously keep 
our jurisprudence marching abreast in its development under many