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Leonard  Bacon 


IN    MEMORIAM. 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


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LEONARD    BACON: 


PASTOR 


FIRST  CHURCH    IX   NEW  HAVKX. 


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j        The   following   pages,  have    been    prepared,    al    the   request    of    the    First 

hi    New  Haven,  to   commemorate  their   late    Pastor.      It 

has  been  do  part  of  our  design  to  speak  of  him  in  any  other  relation  than 

this   church.      Some    sermons    which    bear    especially   on    this 

^relation   have    been    included,   and    the    last    sermon    preached    by   him   will 

3  A   few  newspaper  articles  i  in  various 

relations,  have  been  gathered,  and  are  at  the  end  of  the  volume 


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£  LEONARD   .).    SANFORD,  mittee. 

THOS.    i:     TROWBRIDGE,  Je. 

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LEONARD    BACON: 

ASTOROF  THE  FIRST  CHURCH  IN  NEW  HAVEN. 


Leonard  Bacon  was  bora  February  L9,  L802,  in  Detn.it. 
Michigan,  whither  his  father  had  gone,  under  appointment  of 
the  Connecticut  Missionary  Society,  to  labor  among  the  Indian 
tribesin  that  ricinity.  Not  finding  sufficient  encouragement  in 
hi.-  work.  Mr  Bacon  removed  in  a  short  Time,  with  his  family, 
to  Tallmadge,  in  the  State  of  Ohio,  at  that  time  a  wilderness. 
Here  'he  died,  and  his  eldest  sou  was  at  the  age  of  ten  years 
placed  undoi-  the  care  of  an  uncle  at  Hartford,  in  this  State. 
where  he  pursued  the  usual  Btudies  preparatory  to  entering 
college.  He  joined  the  class  which  was  graduated  at  Vale 
College  in  L820,  in  the  Sophomore  year,  in  which  he  sustained 
a  good  reputation  as  a  scholar,  and  especially  for  literary  and 
forensic  ability.  Aiter  graduation  his  theological  studies  were 
pursued  at  A.ndover,  Massachusetts,  where  his  talents  were 
conspicuous,  lie  was  ordained,  as  an  Evangelist,  by  the  Hart 
ford  North  Consociation,  September  28,  L824,  al  their  meeting 
held  at  Windsor,  it  being  his  intention  do  find  a  field  of  labor 
;it  the  West.  Just  at  this  moment  he  received  an  invitation  to 
preach  to  the  First  Church  in  New  Haven,  which  invitation 
he  accepted,  and  the  pulpit  was  supplied  by  him  \'<v  several 
successn  e  Sabbaths. 


U  LEONARD   BACON. 

On  December  L5,  L824,  the  Society  extended  a  call  to  Mr. 
Bacon  to  settle  with  them  in  the  ministry  of  the  gospel,  and 
on  the  L9th  of  the  same  month  the  church  united  with  the 
ety  in  their  call. 

Thifl  call  was  accepted  by  Mr.  Bacon  January  IT.  1825. 
The  proceedings  of  the  church  and  society,  with  Mr.  Bacon's 
Letters  of  acceptance,  arc  given  at  page  13. 

He  was  installed  March  9th  and  the  proceedings  of  the  coun- 
cil called  for  this  purpose  may  be  found  at  page  20. 

He  commenced  his  services  as  pastor  March  L3,  L825.  Bythe 
favor  of  the  family  we  are  permitted  t<>  publish  the  first  ser- 
mon he  preached  after  taking  on  himself  the  pastoral  office. 
In  this  sermon  he  explained  what  he  considered  the  require- 
ments of  the  tield  of  labor  to  which  lie  had  been  called;  how- 
well  he  judged  of  them  those  who  have  been  familiar  with  his 

career  will   be   interested  to  observe.      The   sermo ay   he 

found  at  page  53. 

The  pastorate  thus  happily  begun  was  successful  to  the  end. 
Several  revivals  of  religion  marked  its  history.  Dr.  Bacon 
stated  in  his  review  of  these  forty  years  that  the  number  of 
persons  who  united  with  the  church  on  profession  of  faith  in 
Christ  dining  this  time  was  six  hundred  and  six.  while  the 
number  of  those  who  were  received  by  letters  from  other 
churches  was  more  than   as  many  more. 

Dr.  Bacon  was  earnest  throughout  his  ministry  in  works  of 
moral  reform,  in  his  pulpit  exercises  and  through  the  public 
press  he  early  advocated  the  principle  of  .abstinence  from  in- 
toxicating Liquors  and  had  great  influence  in  bringing  about 
the  reformation  in  society  in  this  particular.  He  was  always 
an  opponenl  of  slavery,  and  in  the  later  part  of  his  ministry 
especially,  preached  and   wrote  with  great  effect  in  opposition 

the  Bystem.  lie  was  an  early  and  lifelong  friend  of  the 
great  missionary  and  other  religions  and  benevolent  societies, 
and  was  instrumental  in  recommending  them  not  only  to  his 
own  church  but  to  the  churches  of  the  country.  In  local 
efforts  for  moral   reform,  and   tor  meeting  the  wants  of  those 

without    church    Connections,  the    need\    and    the    destitute,  his 

advice  was  always  sought   and   his  time  and   influence  freely 
en. 


LEONARD    BACON.  t 

The  Pastor  loved  his  people,  the  people  loved  and  honored 
their  Pastor.  His  salary  was  increased  from  time  to  time  as 
the  increased  cost  of  living  and  his  increasing  family  seemed 
to  require. 

The  two-hundredth  anniversary  of  the  settlement  of  tLe 
town  of  New  Haven  occurred  in  March,  1838,  and  the  occasion 
was  publicly  celebrated.  In  the  preliminary  arrangements  for 
thi>  celebration  and  in  the  celebration  itself  Dr.  Bacon  was 
much  interested.  The  organization  of  the  church  was  coeval 
with  the  settlement  at  New  Haven,  and  Dr.  Bacon  was  led  To 
investigate  the  early  history  of  the  church,  which  investigation 
resulted  in  the  delivery  of  thirteen  historical  discourses,  on 
Sunday  evenings,  which  were  afterwards  expanded  and  pub- 
lished in  a  volume.  They  will  always  remain  a  valuable  con- 
tribution to  the  history  of  the  church  and  a  Lasting  testimony 
to  the  affection  of  the  Pastor  for  it. 

Another  work  which  Dr.  Bacon  performed  for  the  church, 
after  he  resigned  the  pastorate,  was  the  designing  and  prepar- 
ing, in  hi>  own  felicitous  manner,  the  inscriptions  which  grace 
the  facade  of  the  church,  commemorating  the  organization  of 
the  church  and  the  settlement  of  the  town.  They  may  be 
found  at  the  commencement  of  thi>  volume. 

In  the  year  ls.'l'.»  an  effort  was  made  to  induce  Dr.  Bacon  to 
leave  the  church  to  accept  a  Professorship  in  Vale  College 
under  an  appointment  from  that  institution.  Dr.  Bacon  com- 
municated this  fact  to  the  society  in  a  letter  which,  with  the 
action  of  the  society  upon  it.  may  l>e  found  at  page  22. 

In  1850  Dr.  Bacon  communicated  to  the  society  Ids  wish  to 
be  allowed  a  temporary  absence  from  the  labors  and  responsi- 
bilities of  the  pulpit.  His  letter,  and  the  action  of  the  so- 
ciety upon  it.  arc  to  he  found  at  page  25. 

Receiving  the  asked  lor  leave  of  absence,  he  wenl  to  Pales- 
tine and  Bome  adjacent  countries.  In  an  attempted  journey 
from  Mosul  to  Ooroomiah,  while  in  the  country  of  the  Koords, 
he  was  in  great  danger  of  hi.-  life.  This  incident  awakened  a 
lively  interr-i  n<>t  only  in  this  church,  bul  wherever  Dr.  Bacon 
was  known.     His  highly  interesting  account  of  it.  so  charac 

teristic  of    the    man.  may   he  found    at    page  •_'!•. 

The  time  at   length  came  when  this  pastorate  was  to  termi- 


s  ill  >\  \  i;i>    B  \<  ON. 

tiate.  Of  the  five  hundred  and  tift\  members  of  the  church 
at  the  time  of  the  settlement  of  the  youthful  pastor,  only  thir- 
ty-four remained.  The  children  and  grandchildren  of  those  to 
whom  he  firsl  ministered  were  mow  his  parishioners.  He 
preached  on  the  second  Sunday  in  March,  L865,  just  forty 
years  after  bis  settlement, both  morning  and  afternoon,  review- 
ing bis  ministry,  and  closing  with  the  expression  of  a  desire  to 
be  relieved  from  the  responsibilities  of  the  pastoral  office. 
These  sermons  may  be  found  at  page  75.  A  sermon  preached 
a  month  earlier,  on  his  Bixty-third  birthday,  may  be  found  at 
page  *'»"•. 

Dr.  Bacon  continued  to  discharge  the  duties  of  pastor  and 
no  action  was  taken  upon  the  suggestions  made  by  him 
until  the  annual  meeting  of  the  society  in  the  following 
December,  when  a  committee  was  appointed  to  take  these  sug- 
gestions into  consideration  and  to  report  at  an  adjourned  meet 
ing.  The  proceedings  which  followed  are  given  from  the 
records  of  the  society  and  the  church  at  page  ■'!!».  The  sermon 
which  hi'  preached  on  retiring  from  pastoral  duties,  September 
'.'.  L866,  may  he  found  at  page  L05. 

No  communication  was  made  by  Dr.  Bacon  to  the  church 
except  what  was  contained  in  tin;  sermon  of  March  1  2,  L805, 
and  the  church  was  not  asked  by  him  to  unite  in  calling  a 
council  to  dissolve  the  relation  existing  between  them,  lie 
continued  until  his  death  their  Pastor,  but  relieved  by  the 
society  from  all  the  duties  pertaining  to  the  office. 

Fifty  years  from  the  day  of  his  installation,  on  Tuesday. 
March  '.*.  \^~->.  in  the  afternoon,  he  preached  to  a  large  congre 
nation.  Beside  the  venerable  Pastor  there  sat  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Walker,  associated   with  him.  and   the    Rev.   Dr.  Buckingham, 

of  Springfield,  Mas>.      In  the  rear  of  the  pulpit,  upon  the  wall, 

was  the  following,  beautifully  worked   in  immortelles,  upon  a 
black  background  : 

L825 — "them  that  bonob  me  i   will  eonor"     L875. 

The  pulpit  was  beautifully  decorated  with  Large  bouquets  of 
rare  and  fragrant  flowers,  and  the  table  beneath  was  strewn 
with  lilies.     The  housewas  full  of  the  friends  of  the  Pastor, 


LEONARD    BACON.  9 

The  services  began  at  3:15  P.  m.  with  singing  by  the  quar- 
tette, hnmediately  afterward  the  Rev.  Dr.  Walker  read 
appropriate  selections  of  scripture.  Prayer — in  which  the 
occasion  was  fittingly  alluded  to — was  ottered  by  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Buckingham,  after  which  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bacon  read  the  678th 
hymn  : 

■■  Bow  firm  a  Foundation,  ye  saints  of  the  Lord." 

The  aged  Pastor  then  arose  to  address  his  people.  He  pre- 
faced his  discourse  by  reading  a  portion  of  the  Tlst  Psalm, 
beginning  at  the  L4th  verse.  Aiter  finishing  the  chapter,  the 
speaker  remarked  that  the  first  part  of  the  17th  verse  would 
afford  suggestions  for  the  discourse.  The  17th  and  L8th 
verses-    so  appropriate  a  text — are  as  follows  : 

0  God,  thou  hast  taught  me  from  my  youth,  and  hitherto  have  I  declared  thy 
wondrous  works. 

Mow  also  when  I  am  old  and  gray-headed,  0  God  forsake  me  not;  until  I 
have  showed  thy  strength  unto  this  generation,  and  thy  power  to  every  one  thai 
ome. 

This  sermon  may  be  found  at  page  1  L9. 

In  the  evening  of  the  same  day  ;i  reception  was  held  in  the 
chapel,  which  was  very  largely  attended.  The  venerable  Pas- 
tor and  his  lady  occupied  the  sofa  in  the  alcove  before  which  a 
half  circle  was  cleared.     In  this  the  addresses  were  made. 

lo\ .  T.  I >.  Woolsej .  I  ).D..  delivered  a  congratulatory  address 
which  occupied  about  half  an  hour. 

Dr.  Macon  responded  in  his  agreeable  and  forcible  manner, 
after  which  Rev.  Edward  E.  A.twater  presented  a  set  of  resolu- 
tions of  a  congratulatory  nature,  which  had  been  passed  during 
the  day  by  the  New  Haven  Central  Association  of  Congrega- 
tional churches. 

Rev.     I>r.     Ilarwood    then    made  a  few    remarks,  which    were 

received  with  much  favor.  Dr.  Macon  responded,  relating  his 
e;ol\  acquaintance  with  Rev.  Harry  Croswell,  l>r.  Harwood's 
predecessor. 

After  the  speeches  the  company  partook  of   refreshments  in 

the  hack   parlor.      This  entertain  incut   lasted  until  the  reception 

closed. 


10  I  I  SON  \l;i>    B  \'  <>\. 

\-  Rev.  Dr.  Bacon  and  his  wife  were  Btepping  into  their 
carriage,  Deacon  Walker  presented  them  with  a  purse  of 
nearly  $2,000-  -the  generous  gifl  of  the  church. 

Attn-  it  was  understood  that  Dr.  Bacon  was  to  retire  from 
the  pastoral  care  of  this  church,  he  received  an  invitation  to 
become  a  Professor  in  the  Theological  Department  of  Yale 
College,  which  invitation  he  accepted  and  entered  on  his  new 
duties  in  the  autumn  of  1866,  in  which  duties  he  continued 
until  liis  death.  Hut  the  church  was  without  an  acting  Pastor 
for  two  years  after  this,  ami  again  for  a  period  of  two  years 
and  a  half,  and  for  a  third  period  of  the  same  length  of  time, 
during  all  of  which  Dr.  Bacon  was  called  on  to  attend  funerals 
and  to  perform  other  pastoral  work.  These  voluntary  labors 
he  nor  only  ungrudgingly  performed,  hut  encouraged  the  peo- 
ple to  call  on  him  in  their  needs. 

In  the  year  L881,  for  the  first  time,  he  became  aware  of  a 
disease  of  the  heart  which  threatened  to  terminate  his  life  at 
any  moment.  He  did  not  hesitate  nor  falter  in  the  discharge 
of  Lis  various  duties.  His  lectures  to  the  Theological  students 
he  delivered  as  usual,  the  last  one  only  thirty-six  hours  before 
his  death.  He  attended  the  church  services  twice  each  Lord's 
day.  occasionally  performing  the  services  himself,  and  at 
other  times  ministered  to  the  people  of  his  congregation  as 
they  called  on  him.  The  last  time  that  he  preached  was  on 
the  day  of  Public  Thanksgiving,  November  24,  L881,  only  one 
month  before  his  death.  The  sermon  may  ho  found  at  page  L3T. 
On  the  morning  of  Saturday.  December  24,  L881,  with  less 
pain  than  had  marked  other  similar  attacks,  he  departed  this 
life. 

The  funeral  services  were  attended  on  Tuesday.  December 
27th.  In  the  forenoon  of  that  day  Rev.  T.  I).  Woolsey,  I  >.!>., 
lately  President  of  Vale  College,  through  life  an  intimate 
friend,  ami  for  many  year-  a  wry  near  neighbor,  offered 
prayer  at  the  late  residence  of  Dr.  Bacon,  in  the  presence  of  the 

family,  their  intimate  friends,  and  the  officers  of  the  church. 

In  the  afternoon  public  Bervices  were  held  in  the  church. 
The  remains  had  been  borne  from  the  house  to  the  church  at 
noon.  At  half-pasl  two  o'clock  the  church  was  crowded  with 
mourners.     The  audience-room  was   heavily  draped  with  hlack 


LEONARD    BACON.  1  1 

cloth;  iii  front  of  the  pulpit,  on  the  communion  table,  stood  a 
large  full  sheaf  of  ripe  wheat.  The  family  and  relatives  of 
Dr.  Bacon,  the  officers  of  the  church  and  society,  the  members 
of  the  church  and  congregation,  large  numbers  of  citizens, 
many  ministers  from  various  parts  of  the  State,  constituted  the 
mourning  company.  Pleyel's  Hymn  was  played  on  the  organ, 
the  choir  of  the  church  chanted  the  Lord's  prayer.  Rev. 
George  P.  Fisher,  D. I).,  Professor  in  Yale  Theological  Semi- 
nary, invoked  the  Divine  blessing,  and  read  selected  passages 
of  scripture.  The  choir  of  the  church  then  sang  the  anthem, 
"  Sleep  thy  last  sleep.''  An  address  of  remarkable  tenderness 
and  beauty  was  delivered  by  Rev.  Timothy  Dwight,  D.D., 
Professor  in  Yale  Theological  Seminary,  which  may  be  found 
at  page  14!».  Rev.  Edward  Hawes,  D.D.,  pastor  of  the  North 
Church,  offered  the  closing  prayer.  The  congregation  united 
in  singing  "  Hail  tranquil  hourof  closing  day,"  a  hymn  written 
by  Rev.  Dr.  Bacon,  and  then  the  Loved  and  honored  remains 
of  thf  deceased  Pastor  were  borne  from  the  church  by  his  six 
Bona.  A  brief  prayer  was  offered  at  the  grave  by  Rev.  Win. 
M.  Barbour,  D.D.,  Pastor  of  the  church  in  Yale  College. 

On  January  L5,  L882,  Rev.  George  Leon  Walker.  I). I)., 
formerly  Pastor  of  the  church,  and  now  Pastor  of  the  First 
Church  in  Hart  lord,  by  request,  preached  a  memorial  dis- 
course. The  choir  Bang  the  anthem,  "Nazareth,"  and  the 
hymn  "Oh,  holy  night."  The  other  hymns  sung  were. 
••  Hark  !  a  voice  divides  the  sky."  and  w"  It  is  not  death  to  die." 
Dr.  Walker's  sermon  ma\  be  found  at  page  i » '> 7 . 

The  will  of  Kc\.  Dr.  Bacon  was  written  1>\  fiimself  and  in 
its  main  provisions  is  of  no  interesl  to  the  public,  but  its  com- 
mencement bear-  iii  it  so  striking  aii  affirmation  of  his  faith 
that  it  i>  here  eriven. 


12  Leonard  Bacon. 


Preamble   and    [ntroductori    Article   prow   the  Will 
of  Rev.  Leonard  Bacon,  I). I). 

I.  Leonard  Bacon,  of  the  City  and  County  of  New  Eaven, 
in  the  State  of  Connecticut,  being,  by  the  favor  of  God,  not 
withstanding  my  age  of  more  than  seventy-six  years,  in  full 
health  and  of  sound,  disposing  mind  and  memory,  do  make 
and  establish  in  these  following  articles  my  last  will  and  testa- 
ment : 

First,   Holding  fast  that  faith   in  the    Lord    Jesus  Christ 

which  I  have  preached  to  others,  and  which,  by  God's  blessing 
on  the  diligence  <d'  my  godly  parents,  has  been  my  strength 
and  comfort  from  my  youth  up,  I  commit  my  soul  to  Him,  the 
Lamb  of  God  who  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world.  In  this 
confidence  I  hope  to  die,  assured  that  he  is  able  to  save  to  the 
uttermost  all  who  come  to  God  by  Mini.  Concerning  the 
burial  of  my  body,  1  ask  of  those  on  whom  that  care  shall 
devolve,  that  the  funeral  may  be  managed  with  an  exemplary 
care  to  avoid  expense,  by  whomsoever  the  expense  may  be 
defrayed.  Let  the  dust  return  to  dust.  I  hope  to  rise  with 
them  who  sleep  in  Jesus. 


LEONARD    BACON. 


Proceedings  of  the  First  Ecclesiastical  Society 

RELATING    TO   CALL    OF 

REV.    LEONARD    BACON. 


Friday  Evening,  Dec  in.  L824.     6  o'clock. 

The  society  met  at  the  Lecture-room  according  to  the  last 
adjournment.  James  Billhouse,  Esq.,  moderator.  Deacon 
Whiting  opened  the  meeting  with  prayer. 

Voted,  That  this  society  do  approve  of  the  ministerial  ser- 
vices of  the  Rev.  Leonard  Bacon  among  them,  and  are  desirous 
that  lit-  should  settle  with  them  in  the  work  of  the  gospel 
ministry,  and  that  he  be  invited  to  take  charge  of  the  society 
and  the  church  connected  with  ir  accordingly,  as  their  Pastor 
and  gospel  minister.     Yeas,  i~:  Nays,  21. 

Adjourned  to  Wednesday  evening,  Dec.  1">.  at  6  o'clock. 

Attest,  T.   I).   WILLIAMS,  Society's  Clerk. 

ADJOl   RNED    MEETING. 

Wednesday   Evening,  Dec  15,  L824.     6  o'clock. 

The  Bociety  rael  at  the  lecture-room  pursuant  to  the  las! 
adjournment.  James  Hillhouse,  Esq.,  moderator.  The  meet- 
ing was  opened  with  prayer  by  Presidenl  Atwater. 

Voted,  Thai  the  Bocietj  reconsider  the  vote  passed  al  the  Ias1 
meeting  respecting  the  invitation  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bacon. 

\  oted,  Thai  this  Bociety  do  approve  of  the  ministerial  servi- 
ces oi   the  Rev.  Leonard   Bacon  among  them,  and  are  desirous 
thai  he  Bhould  Bettle  with  them  in  the  work  of  the  gospel  min 
istry  and  thai   he  be  invited   to  take  charge  of  the  society  and 
the  church  connected  with  it  accordingly  as  their  Pastor  and 


II  LEONARD  BACON. 

gospel  minister,  on  such  terms  and  conditions  as  may  hereafter 
be  agreed  upon  by  the  Bocietj  and  Mr.  Bacon.  The  votes 
were,  affirmative,  68;  negative,  20. 

Voted,  Thai  the  church  in  the  Bociety  be  requested  to  unite 
with  them  in  the  above  invitation. 

Voted,  Thai  Messrs.  DyerWhite,  Dennis  Kimberly,  Nathan 
Whiting,  Stephen  Twining,  <  !harles  At  water,  Jonathan  Knight, 
Eenry   Daeeett,  Jr.,  and   Elihu   Sanford   be  a   committee   to 

,  DO 

report  at  a  future  meeting  the  terms  and  conditions  of  the  set- 
tlement iif  the  Rev.  Leonard  Bacon. 

Adjourned  to  Monday  evening,  Dee.  20,  at  <i  o'clock. 

Attest,  T.  I).  WILLIAMS,  Society's  Clerk. 


ADJOURNED    MEETING. 

Monday  Evening,  Dec.  20,  1824.     6  o'clock. 

The  society  met  at  the  lecture-room  pursuant  to  the  last 
adjournment.  James  Hillhouse,  Esq.,  moderator.  The  meet- 
ing was  opened  with  prayer  by  Deacon  Whiting.  The  com- 
mittee appointed  at  the  Last  meeting  reported. 

Voted,  That  in  case  the  Rev.  Leonard  Bacon  shall  accept 
the  invitation  of  this  SOci<  tv  to  take  the  charge  of  them  and  the 
church  connected  with  them  as  their  Pastor,  the  society  will 
pay  to  him  during  the  continuance  of  his  ministry  with  them, 
a  Balary  of  one  thousand  dollars  a  year,  which  salary  shall  be 
paid  balf-yearly  in  advance.     4'.»  affirmative,  21  negative. 

Voted,  That  Dyer  White,  Nathan  Whiting,  and  Stephen 
Twining  be  a  committee  to  transmit  to  Mr.  Bacon  the  several 
votes  passed  by  the  society,  and  communicate  with  him  on  the 
subject  of  bis  settlement,  and  report  his  answer  thereto  at 
some  future  meeting. 

And  the  society  adjourned  without  day. 

Attest,  T.   I).  WILLIAMS,  Society's  Clerk 


HIS    CALL    TO    THE    PASTORATE.  1 5 


SPECIAL    MEETING. 

At  a  special  meeting  of  the  First  Ecclesiastical  Society 
legally  warned  and  holden  at  the  lectnre-room  Monday  after- 
noon, January  31,  1825.     Dyer  White  chosen  moderator. 

Voted,  That  William  .1.  Forbes,  Henry  Daggett,  Jr.,  and 
[saac  Mills  lie  and  they  hereby  are  appointed  a  committee,  in 
conjunction  with  a  committee  to  be  appointed  in  the  church 
rher  with  Mr.  Bacon,  to  tix  upon  the  time  and  adjust  the 
arrangements  accessary  for  his  installation  as  a  minister  of  tins 
society. 

The  following  letter  from  the  Rev.  Leonard  Bacon  was  read 
at  the  opening  of  the  meeting: 

Andover,  Dec.  30,  L824. 
Messrs.  Dyer  White,  Stephen  Twining,  and  Nathan  Whiting: 

Gentlemen  —  5Tours  of  the  21st,  communicating  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  First  Ecclesiastical  Society  in  New  Haven,  by 
which  they  have  invited  me  to  settle  with  them  in  the  work  of 
rh<-  gospel  ministry,  and  enclosing  a  communication  from  the 
church  connected  with  that  society  was  duly  received.  A 
temporary  absence  from  town  prevented  my  making  an  imme- 
diate acknowledgment. 

At  present  I  have  only  to  saj  that  the  subject  which  has 
thus  been  laid  before  me  shall  receive  the  attention  it  deserves, 
and  that  my  answer  to  the  invitation  shall  he  given  at  the  ear- 
liest period  consistent  with  the  deliberation  which  is  due  to 
a  question  involving  consequences  bo  momentous.  God  only 
Call  teach  ii~  what  he  would  have  US  to  do,  and  when  I  look  to 
Him  for  the  wisdom  which  I  need,  there  i-  encouragement  in 
the  thought  that  others  are  lifting  ii|>  their  hands  to  the  Father 
<>t  lights  and  praying  Elim  to  guide  me  by  Hi-  counsel. 

Wishing  to  you  and  to  the  people  for  whom  you  act,  grace, 
mercy  and  peace  from  God  our  Father,  and  from  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  I  am.  brethren,  your  Bervanl  in  the  gospel, 

LEONARD   BACON. 


hi  LEONARD   BACON. 

LETTEK    OF     ACCEPTANCE     ADDRESSED   TO   THE   SOCIETY. 

A  ndover,  Jan.  I  7.  L825. 
I i>  tin   First  Ecclesiastical  So oietiy  in  New  Haven: 

Brethren  lnd  Friends  The  votes  \>\  which  you  have 
Invited  me  to  settle  with  you  in  the  work  o\  the  gospel  minis- 
try was  duly  transmitted  and  received,  and  have  been  deliber- 
ately considered.  When  I  received  yonr  call,  and  became 
acquainted  with  the  circumstances  in  which  it  was  given,  my 
impressions  were,  on  the  whole,  favorable  to  yonr  invitation. 
In  the  progress  of  a  serious  and  careful  deliberation  these  im- 
pressions have  continually  grown  moredistincl  and  certain,  and 
have  resulted  in  a  conviction  of  duty.  Under  the  influence  of 
tins  conviction  I  do  now  accept  the  proposals  with  which  you 
have  >een  tir  to  honor  me. 

I  may  have  erred  in  following  what  [  supposed  to  be  the  guid- 
ing hand  of  Providence  ;  and  the  probability  of  such  an  error — 
when  we  think  of  it  in  its  connection  with  the  prosperity  of 
the  church,  and  with  your  own  eternal  interests — is  enough  to 
make  u-  tremble.  Whether  I  have  been  thus  mistaken  we 
know  not  now,  hut  we  shall  know  hereafter  in  the  day  when 
all  secret  things  shall  he  revealed. 

And  now  I  commend  you  to  God,  and  to  the  word  of  His 
grace;  and  praying  that  His  love  may  he  shed  abroad  in  all 
your  hearts,  I  am,  your  friend  and  servant  in  Christ, 

LEONARD    MACON. 

ANDOVER,   Monday.  .Ian.  17,   L825. 

Messrs.   Dyer    White,    Stephen     Twining,    Nathan     Whiting, 

( 'on,  m  1 11  >  i  : 

Gentlemen^]  send  you  my  answer  to  the  invitation  of 
your  society.  Enclosed  is  a  corresponding  communication  to 
the  church.  Respecting  the  time  which  the  church  and 
Bociety  may  appoint  for  the  solemnity  of  installation  I  have 
nothing  to  say  excepl  that  the  earliest  notice  of  whatever 
arrangements  they  may  choose  to  make  will  very  much  oblige 
your  friend  and  brother,  LEONARD   BACON. 

And  the  society  adjourned  without  day. 

Attest,  T.   I).   WILLIAMS,  Society's  Clerk. 


HIS   CALL   TO   THE    PASTOEATE. 


Proceedings  of  the  First  Church  in  New  Haven 

IX    RELATION    TO    CALLING 

REV.    LEONARD     BACON. 


At  a  meeting  of  the  First  Church  in  New  Eaven  on  Sab- 
bath morning,  L9th  December,  1824. 

The  Rev.  Jedediah  Morse,  D.D.,  was  chosen  moderator. 
The  meeting  was  opened  with  prayer  by  the  moderator. 

\  oted,  That  the  church  do  unite  with  the  society  in  their 
vote  passed  od  the  L5th  of  December  instant,  inviting  the 
[lev.  Leonard  Bacon  to  settle  with  them  in  the  work  of  the 
gospel  ministry. 

Voted,  Thai  the  Senior  Deacon  be  requested  to  transmit 
the  above  vote  to  the  Rev.  Leonard  Bacon. 

'I  he  meeting  was  closed  with  prayer  by  the  moderator. 

Attest,  SAMUEL  DARLING,  Deacon. 


1  8  LEONARD    n  VCON, 


1.1   i  i  i  i;    OF     \<  CEPT  W'K     ADDRESSED    TO    I'll  E    CHURCH. 
'/'<>  lh<    /-V/'.v/   (  '/nirr/i  of  (  'hr'isl  in    \,  ir   //</i'<  n  : 

Brethren  <>n  the  24th  of  Last  month  I  received  a  commu- 
nication  from  your  committee  informing  n f  the  vote  by 

which  yon  have  invited  me  to  become  your  Pastor.  In  ;i  mat- 
ter of  bo  great  importance  to  myself  and  to  yon  and  to  the 
cause  of  our  common  Redeemer,  I  was  unwilling  to  be  gov- 
erned by  my  iirst  impressions  of  duty,  and  I  have  therefore 
delayed  answering  your  call  till  now  that  I  might  have  oppor- 
tunity for  more  careful  and  deliberate  enquiry.     Such  enquiry 

I  have  attempted  to  make,  looking  up  to  God  for  the  Lighl  of 
Eis  countenance  and  the  guidance  of  His  spirit,  and  the  result 
is  that  I  dow  accept  your  invitation,  praying  God  to  forgive 
me  the  unworthinese  of   which  I  am  conscious,  and   to  glorify 

I I  is  Btrength  in  my  weakness. 

The  uncommon  unanimity  which  has  marked  your  proceed- 
ings, has  seemed  to  me  and  to  those  in  whose  judgment  I  may 
confide,  to  indicate  what  the  great  Head  of  the  Church  would 
have  me  do.  In  this  I  may  have  mistaken  the  Leadings  of 
Providence,  for  we  are  all  blind  to  the  future,  and  the  hook  of 
God's  designs  can  be  read  only  as  it-  Leaves  are  successively 
unfolded  before  us.  God  only  knows,  for  he  ordains,  what 
is  to  be  the  result  of  our  designs,  and  blind  as  we  are,  we  may 
rejoice  in  this,  that  as  he  kiioweth  our  frame  and  renieni- 
bereth  that  we  are  diist.  so  by  his  own  wisdom  and  his  own 
power  he  will  accomplish  his  purposes  of  grace  and  establish 
the  glory  of  his  church,  notwithstanding  all  our  mistake-  and 
all  our  weakness.  The  partiality  with  which  you  have  been 
Led  to  regard  me,  while  it  till-  me  with  solicitude  respecting  the 
expectation-  you  may  have  formed,  inspires  also  the  hope 
that  as  you  become  more  acquainted  with  the  imperfections  of 
my  character  you  will  look  on  them  with  the  forbearance  and 
kindness  demanded  by  the  endearing  character  of  the  relation 
which  will  then  -uh-i-t  between  us. 


HIS    CALL    T<>    THE    PASTORATE.  19 

Brethren,  pray  for  me;  and  now  may  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
himself  and  God,  even  our    Father,  who  hath  loved  us,   and 

given  us  everlasting  consolation  and  good  hope  through  grace, 
comfort  your  hearts  and  establish  you  in  every  good  word  and 
work.      Yours  in  the  faith  and  fellowship  of  the  gospel, 

LEONARD   BACON. 

ADdover.  Massachusetts.  Jan.  IT.  1825. 


At  a  meeting  of  the  First  Church  in  New  Haven  on  the  31st 
of  January,  L825!  Deacon  Nathan  Whiting,  moderator.  A 
letter  from  Rev.  Leonard  Bacon,  accepting  of  the  invitation  of 
this  church  and  the  Bociety  to  settle  with  them  in  the  gospel 
ministry,  was  read. 

Voted,  That  this  church  do  approve  and  accept  of  the  an- 
swer of  IJ<-v.  Leonard  Bacou  and  do  order  it  to  be  recorded. 

\  oted,  That  Samuel  Darling,  Stephen  Twining,  and  Nathan 
Whiting  be  and  they  are  hereby  appointed  a  committee,  in  con- 
junction with  a  committee  appointed  by  the  society,  together 
with  Rev.  -Mr.  Bacon,  to  fix  upon  the  time  and  adjust  the 
arrangements  necessary  for  hi-  installation  as  a  minister  of  this 
society. 

SAMUEL  DAELING,  Deacon. 


I  k<>\  \|;|.    UAOON. 


Proceedings  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Council 

C  \  LLED    T<  I    I  NSTAU, 

R  EV.    LEO  N  A  IM>    BACON. 


At  a  meeting  of  an  Ecclesiastical  Council  convened  a1  the 
house  of  Aaron  Morse,  in  New  Haven,  Tuesday,  March  8, 
L  825,  and  held  at  the  lecture-room  in  Orange  street,  for  the 
purpose  of  installing  Rev.  Leonard  Bacon  as  Pastor  over  the 
Firsl  Church  and  society  in  New  Haven. 

Present  :   Rev.  Jeremiah  Day,  President  of  Yale  College. 

Rev.  Nathaniel  W.  Taylor,  Professor  of  Theology  in  Yale 
( lollege. 

Rev.  Stephen  W.  Stebbins,  from  the  First  Church  in  West 
Haven. 

Rev.  Samuel  Merwin,from  the  church  in  the  United  Society 
in   New   1 1  a  veil. 

Thomas  F.  Davies,  their  delegate. 
Rev.  Eleazar  T.  Fitch,  from  the  Church  in  Yale  College. 

Elizur  <  roodrich,  their  delegate. 
Rev.  Joel  Hawes,  from  the  First  Church  in  Hartford. 

Henry  L.  Ellsworth,  their  delegate. 
Rev.  Carlos  Wilcox,  from  the  North  Church  in  Hartford. 

Eliphalet  Terry,  their  delegate. 
Joseph  Webster,  delegate  from  the  South  Church  in   Hart- 
ford. 

Rev.  Messrs.  Abner  Smith,  David  Smith,  Elijah  Waterman, 
Daniel  ('rani'.  Erastue  Scranton,  Samuel  Whittlesey,  Nathaniel 
Hewit,  Samuel  IJ.  Andrew,  Edward  \V.  Hooker,  and  David 
L.  Ogden,  being  present,  were  invited  to  sit  with  the  council. 


HIS    INSTALLATION.  Zi 

The  council  then,  after  receiving  from  Kev.  L.  Bacon  a  cer- 
tificate of  his  ordination  as  an  Evangelist,  and  examining  with 
respect  to  his  qualifications  for  the  ministry  of  the  gospel, 
voted  that  they  would  proceed  to  Ids  installation  to-morrow. 
a.  si.,  at  half-past  ten  o'clock. 

The  parts  of  the  service  were  then  assigned  as  follows: 

The  introductory  prayer  to  Rev.  Carlos  Wilcox. 

The  sermon  to  Rev.  Joel  Hawes. 

The  installing  prayer  to  Rev:  Stephen  W.  Stebbins. 

The  charge  to  Kev.  X.  W.  Taylor. 

The  right  hand  of  fellowship  to  Rev.  E.  T.  Fitch. 

The  council  then  adjourned  to  meet  again  at  the  same  place 
to-morrow,  \.  M.,  at  half-past  nine  o'clock. 

Wednesday  morning,  March  9. — Met  according  to  adjourn- 
ment. The  minutes  were  then  read  and  passed  by  the  council 
as  a  true  record  of  their  proceedings,  when  the  act  of  installa- 
tion was  performed  according  to  the  preceding  resolutions. 

Attest,  ELEAZAB    T.    FITCH,  Scribe. 


•J'2  LEONARD    BACON. 

Proceedings  in  relation  to  a  Call 

r<>  a 
PEOFESSOKSHIP    IN    VAI.K   COLLEGE 


At  a  special  meeting  of  the  First  Ecclesiastical  Society  in 
New  Haven,  held  pursuanl  to  legal  notice  a1  the  chapel  in 
Orange  street,  on  Monday  the  2d  of  September,  at  '■'•  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  A.  D.  L839.  Dr.  Jonathan  Knight  was  chosen 
moderator. 

A  communication  from  the  Pastor  was  read  in  relation  to  his 
recent  appointment  to  the  Professorship  of  Rhetoric  and  Ora- 
tory in  Vale  College,  requesting  the  society  to  hear  what 
the  gentlemen  from  the  college  have  to  offer  on  this  subject, 
and  then  to  express  their  judgment  whether  the  interests 
involved  in  this  matter  require  the  society  to  give  tip  their 
Pastor  to  this  call ;  which  communication  is  on  tile. 

William  .1.  Forbes,  Esq.,  was  appointed  a  committee  to  wait 
on  the  gentlemen  from  college  and  requesl  their  attendance 
at  this  time  to  make  such  remarks  as  they  wish  on  the  subjeel 
of  the  communication  from  the  Pastor. 

President  Day,  in  behalf  of  the  Corporation  of  Vale  College, 
and  Professor  Silliman,  in  behalf  of  the  Faculty  of  the 
College,  made  a  statement  of  the  views  of  the  Corporation  in 
electing  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bacon  to  the  Professorship  of  Rhetoric 
and  Oratory  in  Vale  College,  and  of  the  reasons  why  the 
appointment  should  he  accepted. 

After  some  time  spent  in  deliberation,  the  society  unani- 
mously— 

Resolved,  That  in  the  opinion  of  tins  society  it  is  not  expe- 
dient that  our  Pastor  should  leave  this  people  for  the  Profes- 
sorship in  ^  ale  (  !ollege,  to  which  he  has  been  appointed  ;  that 
it  i-  not  the  duty  of  this  society,  a-  at  present  advised,  to  con- 
sent to  his  removal. 

The  society  then  adjourned  without  day. 

Attest,  '  IIK.NUV    WHITE,  Clerk. 


HIS  CALL  TO  TALK  COLLEGE.  28 


COMMUNICATION  OF  REV.  ME.  BACON  ON  THE  SUBJECT  OF 
HIS  APPOINTMENT. 

To  tht    Members  of  tht   First  Ecclesiastical  Society  in   New 
Ha/oen  : 

Gentlemen — I  have  already  informed  you  of  the  fact  that 
I  have  been  appointed  to  the  Professorship  of  Rhetoric  and 
Oratory  in  Yale  College.  In  the  communication  which  I  read 
to  the  congregation  I  stated  the  reason.-  by  which  I  felt  myself 
bound  to  consider  the  subject  and  to  ask  you  to  consider  it 
also  before  giving  any  answer  to  the  appointment. 

When  the  proposal  was  first  made  to  me  informally,  and 
arguments  were  u^'(]  showing  the  importance  of  the  call,  I 
replied  to  the  gentlemen  who  conferred  with  me,  %'  If  the  case 
is  as  clear  as  von  think  it  is,  von  can  probably  make  it  clear  to 
my  people  :  \i  they  think  that  the  greatest  good  requires  them 
ive  me  up  they  will  yield  and  then  I  will  consent." 

What  I  ask  of  von  then  is  that  yon  will  first  hear  what  the 
gentlemen  from  the  college  have  to  offer  on  this  subject,  and 
then  after  all  necessary  deliberation  amonu  yourselves  express 
your  judgment.  I  wish  you  to  look  not  at  the  interests  of  the 
society  only,  nor  of  the  college  only,  but  at  the  interests  of  the 

town,    of    the    State,    of    the    country,    and    of    the    ('hure'h    of 

Christ   universally,  and  to  say  whether  these  interests  in   pour 
judgment  require  yon  to  give  up  your  Pastor  to  this  call. 
Some  of  you.  I  am  informed,  have  received  the  impression 

that     my    preference    is   to   aerept    the    in  v  it  at  ion.      Others    will 

ad  which  way  my  inclination  leads.  Let  me  say  then  dis- 
tinctly, I  have  no  wish  to  leave  you.  1  am  not  called  to  a 
higher  salary,  nor  to  a  station  which  will  be  to  me  more  hon- 
orable or  less  laborious.  Consulting  my  own  feelings  alone, 
whether  of  affection  or  of  interest,  I  should  immediately  deter- 
mine to  remain  as  I  am. 

The  question  will  be  asked,  Wha1  is  my  opinion  as  to  my 
duty  in   the  case?     I   answer,  if   I   saw  it  to  be  my  duty  to 


24 


EOXARIl    BACON. 


accepl  the  appointmenl  I  should  sa^  so  al  once,  and  a>k  you  t<> 
conseni  to  1113  dismission.  Bu1  my  own  reflections  on  the  sub- 
ject have  no1  led  me  t<>  form  such  an  opinion.  I  can  only  say, 
.1-  I  have  already  Baid,  thai  I  wish  you  t<>  hear  the  whole  case 
and  then  i"  decide  for  yourselves  whether  those  great  and  gen- 
eral  interests,  which  as  citizens  and  as  Christians  we  ought  all 
to  regard,  require  von  to  give  up  your  Pastor  to  this  call. 
Respectfully  and  affectionately  your  friend  and  Pastor, 

LEONAKD   BACON. 

New  Haven,  Monday.  2d  September,  L839. 


BIS    LEAVE    OF   ABSENCE.  25 


Proceedings  in  relation  to  giving  Rev.  Dr.Bacon 
a  Temporary  Absence. 


SPECIAL    MEETING. 

At  a  special  meeting  of  the  First  Ecclesiastical  Society  in 
New  Haven,  held  pursuant  to  legal  notice  at  their  lecture- 
room  in  Orange  street,  on  the  l">th  day  of  July,  L850,  at  half- 
past  7  o'clock  P.  m.  Dr.  Jonathan  Knight  was  chosen  moder- 
ator. Edward  I.  Sanford  was  appointed  to  act  as  clerk  of  the 
Bociety  during  the  absence  of  Henry  White.  Kstj. 

The  object  of  the  meeting  was  to  consider  a  proposition  to 
give  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bacot  a  temporarj  respite  from  his  Labors  as 
Pastor  of  the  society.  A  communication  was  received  from 
the  Pastor  relative  to  the  matter,  and  sundry  resolutions  were 
offered. 

Voted,  That  the  members  of  the  society  present  approve  of 
the  general  object  of  the  resolutions  and  that  the  same. 
together  with  the  communication,  be  referred  to  a  committee 
of  three,  who  shall  reporl  at  the  next  meeting. 

Henry  Peck,  Henry  Trowbridge,  and  Jonathan  Knight 
wen-  appointed  such  committee. 

The  Bociety  then  adjourned  to  meet  at  the  chapel  in  <  ►range 
Btreet,  on  Monday  evening,  July  22,  1850,  at  balf-pasl  7 
o'clo 

Attest,  EDWARD  I.  SANFORD, 

Socii  ///'.v  ( '/<  /•/■.  pro  /<  //'. 


LEON  \  III'    R  \f(»N. 


ADJOURNED    M  BETING. 


The  Bociety  me1  pursuanl  to  adjournmenl  on  Monday 
evening,  July  22,  A.  I).  L850.  Dr.  Jonathan  Knighl  in  the 
chair. 

Tin'  committee  to  whom  was  referred  the  resolutions  and 
communication,  referred  to  in  the  record  of  the  last  meeting, 
made  verbal  report  that  they  bad  had  under  consideration  the 
manors  referred  to  them,  and  would  beg  leave  to  offer  the  fol- 
lowing resolutions  and  reply  to  tin-  Pastor's  letter  of  the  L5th. 

The  following  is  the  communication  presented  at  the  last 
meeting,  and  now  re-read. 

To  tht  First  Ecclesiastical  Society  in  Nt  f  Hwoen  : 

Gentlemen  —I  have  been  informed  that  you  are  summoned 
to  meet  this  evening  with  reference  to  giving  your  Pastor 
leave  of  absence  for  a  few  months,  and  it  has  occurred  to  me 
that    some    expression    of     my    views   and     wishes    may    he    not 

unacceptable. 

You  will  allow  me  then  to  say  that  I  have  felt  very  sensibly 
the  kindness  with  winch  many  of  you  have  proposed  to  me  a 
temporary  suspension  of  my  labors  among  you,  and  a  voyage 
aero—  the  Atlantic  ;  I  have  a  Btrong  desire  to  visit  the  churches 
of  the  country  from  which  our  ancestors  canne,  to  see  what  a 
Btranger  can  see  of  the  state  of  religion  there,  and  in  some 
other  countries  of  the  old  world.  I  have  a  yet  stronger  desire 
to  visit,  if  possible,  the  various  missipnary  stations  in  the 
countries  surrounding  the  Mediterranean,  and  most  of  all  to 
visit  Pah-tine  and  the  adjoining  regions — the  lands  of  the 
Bible.  I  have  thoughl  that  at  my  time  of  life,  after  a  quarter 
of  a  century  of  labors,  which,  however  unworthily  performed, 
have  rarely  been  interrupted,  a  vacation  of  perhaps  a  twelve- 
month, -pent  amid  new  BCenes  ami  new  excitement-,  may  he 
in,-  means  of  postponing  for  a  while  that  -decay  of  natural 
ir  which  must,  ere  long,  begin  to  come  upon  me.  I  have 
thought  thai  in  Buch  a  circle  of  travel  as  I  have  been  led  to 
contemplate,  I  mighl  be  continually  increasing  my  resources  oJ 
knowledge,   and   preparing  myself  to  he  more  useful  if  <i<>d 


HIS    LEAVE    OF    ABSENCE.  '2.  i 

should  give  me  a  prosperous  journey  and  a  safe  return.  This 
is  what  I  have  thought  of  since  the  subject  lias  been  proposed 
to  me,  and  with  great  kindness  urged  upon  me. 

Whether  it  will  he  in  my  power  to  leave  my  family  the 
present  season  is  very  doubtful.  The  protracted  illness  of  a 
dear  and  venerable  member  of  my  family  forbids  me  just  now 
to  leave  her.  But,  if  by  the  first  of  September  next  her  health 
should  he  restored,  I  think  I  shall  be  willing  to  go,  provided 
the  consentof  the  church  and  society  be  freely  given.  Should 
there  he  any  reluctance  on  your  part  1  shall  readily  give  up  the 
plan.  If  you  give  your  consent  to  my  going,  I  shall  wish  to 
make  whatever  arrangements  will  he  most  satisfactory  to  you 
for  the  supply  of  my  place  in  my  absence.  With  a  most  grate- 
ful remembrance  of  the  kindness  which  you  have  shown 
toward  me  these  many  years,  1  am.  gentlemen,  affectionately 
your  friend  and  Pastor, 

LKOXARI)   BACOK 

New  Ihivcn.  July  L5,  1  850. 


REPLY    OFFERED    FOB    CONSIDERATION    BY  THE   COMMITTEE. 

I'll'     First    Ecclesiastical    Society    in    New   Haven   to   Rev. 
Leonard  Bacon,  1>.I>.  : 

Rev.  and  Deab  Sir — This  society  has  received  your  com- 
munication of  the  L5th  of  -Inly,  ami  given  it  that  consideration 
which  it>  importance  demands.  While  regretting  that  for  any 
cause  we  may  he  deprived  for  a  season  of  your  useful  and  val- 
ued labors  among  us,  we  are  fully  aware  of  the  force  of  the 
reasons  which  have  led  you  t"  contemplate  a  temporary  suspen- 
sion of  them  for  the  purposes  mentioned  in  your  communica- 
tion to  us.  Believing  a-  we  do  that  a  suspension  of  vour 
arduous  ministerial  labors,  which  bave  been  continued  almosl 
without  interruption  lor  twenty-five  years,  ami  a  journey  to 
countries  so  full  of  interesl  to  every  literary  man.  and  especially 
to  e\ery  Christian  minister,  as  those  which  eon  propose  to 
vi-it  will  promote  your  happiness,  your  health  and  future  use 
fulness,  we  cheerfulh  consenl  to  a  suspension  of  them  for  such 
a  time  a-  ni;i\  he  necessan  for  this  purpose. 


28  i,i  <>\  \  i;i>    i;  V(  ON. 

We  would  also  express  the  heartfell  desire  thai  ;ill  your  an- 
ticipatioTi  of  presenl  enjoyment,  <>f  increased  vigor  of  body  and 
mind,  and  of  capacity  for  future  asefulness,  from  the  measure 
proposed,  may  be  t'ulh  realized. 

With  Hindi  respect  and  esteem,  your  parishioners  and  friends, 
in  behalf  of  the  society. 

J.   KNIGHT,  Chairman. 

Edward  I.  Sanford,  <  '/<  rk. 

New  Haven,  July  22,  L850. 


Resolved,  That  the  Kc\ .  Leonard  Bacon  have  leave  to  sus- 
pend his  ordinary  ministerial  labors  with  tins  society  for  such  a 
time  as  be  may  judge  necessary  to  accomplish  the  objects  men- 
tioned in  Ins  recent  communication  to  this  society,  and  that  his 
usual  salary  shall  be  continued  to  him  during  such  suspension. 

Resolved,  That  the  society's  committee  be  requested  to  pro 
vide  for  such  expenses  as  may  accrue  in  providing  ministerial 
labor  during  the  absence  of  the  minister  of  the  society. 

Resolved,  Thai  a  c mittee  of  five  be  appointed  who.  after 

consulting  with  our  respected  minister,  shall  have  in  charge  the 
duty  of  providing  such  ministerial  labor  as  shall  be  necessary 
during  his  absence,  and  that  the  society's  committee  be  reques- 
ted to  appoint  two  of  their  number  to  be  members  of  said  com- 
mittee. 

Voted.  That  the  report  of  the  committee  be  accepted,  and 
that  the  resolutions  be  passed. 

In  accordance  with  the  third  resolution,  Dr.  Jonathan  Knight, 
Charles    Robinson,   Esq.,  and    Deacon   Lewis    Hotchkiss   were 

appointed  as  part  of  the  committee  in  behalf  of  the  society. 


AMONG    THE    KOORDS.  29 


Extracts  from  a  Letter  from  Dr.  Bacon 

GIVING    AX    ACCOUNT    OF 

HIS    EXPERIENCE    WITH    THE    KOOKDS. 


|  Ilf  left  Mosul  for  Ooroomiah  in  company  with  his  son  and 
Rev.  Mr.  Marsh,  an  American  Missionary.] 

Instead  of  pitching  our  tent  and  sleeping  under  the  canvas, 
we  Bpread  our  beds  on  the  roof  of  a  house;  and  after  commit- 
ting ourselves  and  the  dear  and  distant  objects  of  our  affections 
to  the  mercies  of  a  covenant  God,  we  lay  down  to  sleep  with 
the  everlasting  mountains  around  u>.  and  with  the  starry  host 
watching  in  the  tranquil,  cloudless  sky  above  us.  The  house 
which  gave  us  it>  little  flat  roof  for  a  resting  place  was  built 
against    the    hill    side,  SO    that    on    the  rear   it  was  not  more  than 

loin-  feet  above  the  ground,  and  a  projecting  rock  conveniently 
near  served  us  instead  of  ladder  or  staircase.  That  our  baggage 
might  1"-  -ah-  from  nocturnal  pillagers,  and  that  we  and  our 
men  might  sleep  without  any  anxiety  on  that  score,  we  hired 
an  old  man  of  the  tallage  to  keep  watch  <m  the  root'  through 
the  night.  Iii  the  course  of  the  night  Mr.  Marsh  was  awakened 
by  a  low  sound  of  voices  in  a  kind  of  suppressed  conversation. 
Raising  himself  a  little  from  the  pillow,  and  propping  himself 
on  his  elbow,  he  saw  in  the  star-light  several  men  he  think- 
there  were  -i\  —stealthily  approaching  tin  house  toward  one  of 
the  comers  where  the  roof  came  nearesl  to  the  ground.  Ob- 
serving that  he  was  awake  i  lny  suddenly  -topped  and  after  ex- 
changing a  few  whispers  one  of  them  came  upon  the  roof  with 
hi-  gun  in  his  hand,  and  without  giving  an\  answer  to  Mi'. 
Marsh,  who  addressed  him  in  Arabic,  he  entered  into  conversa 
tion  in  a  low  voice  with  our  sentinel,  who  appears  to  have  been 
asleep  ami  just  then  to  have  waked  from  hi-  slumber.  By  this 
t 


80  LEON  \i;i>    BACON. 

time  I  bad  begun  to  be  aware  thai  something  was  going  on 
around  me,  and  Mr.  Marsh  spoke  to  me  and  told  me  thai  there 
was  a  man  upon  the  roof.  Our  unwelcome  visitor  soon  de- 
scended and  went  off  with  his  companions.     Khudr  [their  Ben 

ant!,  who  had  been  waked  from  a  profound  ami  well-earned 
sleep,  and  who,  like  the  resl  <>t  us,  was  nol  withoul  alarm  at 
what  we  had  seen,  enquired  "l  our  sentinel  a-  to  the  meaning  of 
all  this.     1 1  is  reporl  to  us  was  thai  these  were  men  of  the  \  illage 

who,  returning   home  at  a    late  hour,  and    perceiving   that  there 

had  been  an  arrival  of  strangers  were  curious  to  enquire  about 
n>.     Satisfied  with  this  explanation  we  slepl  on  till  morning. 

But  in  the  morning,  when  we  were  ju>t  ready  to  go  «>n  our 
way,  our  old  watchman  told  us  another  story.  The  men,  he 
now  said,  were  from  the  next  village  on  our  road.  They  came 
with  the  intention  of  killing  n>.  and  were  hindered  from  exe- 
cuting their  purpose  Only  because  we  were  under  his  protection 
and  in  relations  of  hospitality  with  his  village.  He  added  that 
he  had  given  lis  a  different  account  in  the  night  because  he  was 
unwilling  to  alarm  us.  What  were  we  to  do  in  these  circum- 
stances? The  man.  according  to  his  own  account,  had  no  scru- 
ple about  speaking  falsehood,  when  falsehood  was  accessary  to 
what  he  considered  a  good  end.     Whether  the  story  of   the 

[light,  or  that  of  the  morning,  or  some  other  story  yet  to  he 
told,  was  the  true  one.  who  can  decide?  At  the  next  village 
was  an  Agha  from  whom,  as  we  had  been  told  at  Akre,  it 
would  he  important  to  obtain  a  letter.  To  him  we  were  ex- 
pecting to  present  our  letter  from  the  Pooha  of  Mosul  with  a 
request  for  such  an  escorl  as  might  he  necessary  for  our  safety. 
After  consultation  with  the  muleteers  and  the  others  in  our 
caravan,  finding  that  in  their  opinion  our  nocturnal  \  isitora  were 
men  of  Biyeh,  we  determined  on  proceeding  and  hired  our  old 
man  to  go  with  us  and  present  11.-  t<>  the  A.gha. 

At  the  distance  of  about  two  hours  from  Biyeh,  our  road 
which  for  some  time  had  been  a  narrow  path  between  a  steep 
ascenl  on  one  side  and  the  Bteeper  hank  of  a  rivulet  on  the 
other,  brought  n>  to  the  base  of  a   projecting  ledge  of  rock, 

where    an    armed    party    of   six    men    were   waiting   to    meet    ns. 

They  first  addressed  our  guide,  ami  seemed  disposed  to  quarrel 
with  him  for  having  taken  us  under  hi-  protection.     It  was  ex- 


AMONG    THE    KOORDS.  31 

plained  to  them  that  we  were  going  to  the  Agha;  but  after  a 
brief  conversation  between  them  on  one  side  and  the  muleteers 
and  Khudr  on  the  other,  they  refused  to  let  us  pass  without  a 
present  or  bakhshish  of  fifty  piastres,  a  little  more  than  two 
dollars.  This  we  consented  to  give  them,  glad  to  escape  at-so 
cheap  a  rate,  but  we  stipulated  with  them  and  they  accepted 
our  proposal,  that  in  return  for  our  bakhshish  they  should  escort 
us  to  the  Agha.  But  here  arose  a  new  difficulty.  We  had  not 
so  much  money  in  our  pockets  and  all  that  we  and  Khudr  could 
make  out  was  less  than  twenty  piastres.  The  remainder  of  our 
traveling  money  was  packed  away  among  our  luggage.  Vt  e 
feared  to  onload  a  nude  in  the  presence  of  such  persons,  whose 
forbearance  was  not  likely  to  be  proof  against  much" temptation. 
Our  proposal  to  pay  a  part  of  the  money  in  advance  and  the 
remainder  on  our  arrival  at  the  Agha's  house  was  fiercely  re- 
jected, and  while  we  were  consulting  for  a  moment  among  our- 
selves, they  hastily  primed  and  cocked  their  guns;  three  of 
them  placed  themselves  in  the  narrowest  part  of  the  pass  before 
ii-  and  the  other  three  leaped  behind  the  rock,  which  served 
them  a-  a  parapet,  and  resting  their  lone.'  guns  on  the  rock  with 
a  grin  of  fiendish  delight  took  aim  at  us.  Negotiation  was  ob- 
viously at  an  end.  We  gave  them  to  understand  that  we  sur- 
rendered and  immediately  prepared  to  unload  the  mule  in  order 
to  get  at  the  writing  case  in  which  our  money  was  deposited. 
In  this  emergency  our  chief  muleteer,  who  had  at  first  declined 
rendering  as  any  Buch  aid.  offered  to  loan  us  as  much  as  would 
make  up  the  fifty  piasters  :  and  the  matter  being  thus  adjusted 
we  Bel  forward  under  the  charge  of  our  stipendiary  cohort,  com- 
forting onrselves  with  the  thought  that  after  all  the  robbers 
had  not  taken  any  more  than  the  Slate  of  New  Jersey  would 
have  exacted  from  us  for  the  privilege  of  passing  through  her 
territory  on  a  railway. 

We  had  gone  onlj  a  few  rods  from  the  place  of  our  encounter 
when  the  men  in  charge  of  u-  were  hailed  by  another  party 
stationed  near  the  road,  and  after  some  consultation  of  which 
we  knew  not  the  purport,  a  detachment  from  the  second  party 
was  added  to  our  escort.  A-  we  proceeded  with  so  many  around 
ii-.  watching  us  at  ever}  step,  we  could  not  hut  feel  that  we 
were  marching  rather  like  prisoners  than  like  persons  guarded 

f(  »r  their  i  p\\  ii   protect  ion. 


•  >■_'  I, hit  >NARD    BACON. 

The  village  began  to  be  in  Bight.  Its  aspect  was  decidedly 
unpromising.  In  an  Isolated  position,  chosen  obviously  with 
something  of  a  military  eye,  stood  whal  mighl  be  called  a  castle 

a  small,  rectangular  building  of  the  rudesl  masonry,  with 
loop  holes  in-trad  of  windows,  and  at  one  end  of  it,  a  little  cir- 
cular tower.  A.S  we  drew  near  the  castle,  men,  women  and  chil- 
dren began  to -how  themselves  with  evident  indications  of  ex- 
citement. We  came  to  the  platform  before  the  door  and  while 
we  were  in  the  act  of  dismounting,  the  rapacious  Bcoundrels 
flew  upon  our  two  servants,  tore  from  them  the  arms  that  were 
attached    to    their    persons,    slashing    the    strap-   and    belts    with 

their  daggers,  seized  every  thing  that  was  in  their  pockets  or 
girdles,  Stripped  from  their  heads  the  caps  which  they  wore, 
hound  round  with  handkerchiefs  like  turbans— and  all  in  a 
twinkling.  A.t  the  same  moment  another  snatched  a  handker- 
chief from  the  pocket  of  Mr.  Marsh's  linen  coat,  tearing  out  in 
his  violence  the  button  hole  into  which  the  corner  of  it  was 
fastened,  while  still  another  tore  the  umbrella  from  the  hand  of 
my  son.     This  was  evidently  a  perilous  place  to  come  to,  hut 

on  the  appearance  of  the  lord  of  the  castle  the  process  of  strip- 
ping us  was  suddenly  arrested,  and  something  like  order  was 
restored.  He  was  taller  and  evidently  stronger  than  any  of  his 
men.  with  some  marks  of  superiority  in  his  asped  and  bearing. 
This  was  the  A.gha  to  whom  we  had  come  for  protection  on 
our  journey  and  behold  we  were  at  the  mercy  of  a  band  of  sav- 
age r<  ibbers. 

With  a  motion  of  his  hand  the  chief  directed  us  to  a  place 
one  or  two  hundred  yards  distant,  where  ;i  spreading  mulberry 
tree  ofEered  us  some  shelter  from  the  noonday  heat.  Some  of 
the  savages  were  constantly  near  us,  keeping  guard  over  us. 
The  thought  occurred  to  some  of  us  that  perhaps  the  objed  of 
this  movement  vvas  to  have  us  in  a  more  convenient  place  for 
the  execution  of  their  bloody  purpose.  Soon  afterward.-  Khudr, 
who  wa-    the   Only  one    that    understood    the    language   of    these 

savages,  and  who  had  been  anxiously  seeking  information  both 
by  interrogating  the  muleteers  and  by  listening  to  the  conver- 
sation around  the  castle,  came  to  us  with  the  information  that 

they  intended  to  kill  us.  The  muleteers  they  said,  and  the  men 
with    the   donkeys,   were    Koords  and    would    he   allowed   to  go 


A.MONG    THE    COORDS.  33 

where  they  pleased;  but  we  were  Franks  and  if  we  were  per- 
mitted to  escape  we  should  bring  them  into  trouble  with  the 
government.  This  was  a  new  kind  of  experience  to  me — to  all 
of  us. 

It  was  not  without  a  nervous  shrinking  that  I  had  seen  the 
rifles  of  murderers  pointed  at  us  from  behind  the  rocks;  that, 
however,  was  only  a  sudden  and  momentary  flash  of  peril.  But 
here  was  the  announcement  of  a  deliberate  purpose  in  regard  to 
us.  We  were  sentenced,  as  it  were,  to  immediate  and  bloody 
death.  And  we  were  to  die  thus — so  far  away  from  home  and 
country  and  friends. 

I  cast  one  glance  upon  the  vast  amphitheatre  of  mountains. 
I  felt  that  I  was  in  the  presence  and  in  the  hands  of  Him  'who 
setteth  fast  the  mountain.-  by  His  power,'  and  without  whom 
not  a  hair  of  our  head  could  fall  to  the  ground. 

I  will  not  undertake  to  account  for  it — perhaps  my  mind 
was  stunned  and  made  in  some  measure  insensible  by  the  an- 
nouncement that  our  death  had  heen  determined  upon.  What- 
ever may  have  been  the  cause,  I  proved  myself  strangely  tran- 
quil and  self-possessed,  as  if  I  was  sure  of  being  delivered.  So 
it  seemed  to  he  with  my  companions.  Not  one  of  us  gave  any 
Bign  of  agitation. 

A  moment's  consultation  was  enough  to  determine  what  we 
should  do.  We  had  come  to  the  A.gha  as  a  man  having  author- 
ity; we  had  come  with  a  document  in  our  hands  which  had 
given  ii-  the  right  to  demand    protection  and  an  escort  ;   and  we 

immediately  sent  our  servant  to  say  to  him  that  we  wanted 
to  see  him  either  where  we  were  or  in  his  castle. 

While    Khudr  was  gone   on  this   errand,  as    nohody  wa-  then 

ju-t  near  enough  to  disturb  us,  the  moment  seemed  favorable 
for  uniting  in  vocal  prayer.  Not  wishing  to  attract  the  atten- 
tion of  our   Moslem   captors,  we  made  oui\  a  slighl   change  of 

position  and  our  supplications  were  made  in  a  voice  which  none 

of  them  could  hear.  With  one  voice  and  mind  we  committed 
ourselves  to  the  power,  the  care,  the  loving  kindness  of  a  re- 
deeming God,  to  live  or  to  die  as  hi-  wisdom  should  determine. 
We  prayed  thai  it  it  were  consistenl  with  his  counsels,  we 
mighl  l«'  delivered  out  of  the  hand-  oi   these  unreasonable  and 

wicked    men;   ami    that     lie  in  whose    hand-   are  the    hearts   of 


:;  1  LEON  \l-'l>    B  ICON. 

men,  and  who  can  turn  them  as  the  rivers  of  water  are  turned, 
would  so  influence  their  thoughts,  dividing  their  minds  and 
turning  their  counsels  into  foolishness  as  ti>  baffle  their  pur- 
poses and  procure  our  deliverance.  It'  we  were  then  and  t  here  to 
die,  we  would  die  trusting  in  Chrisl  and  saying,  Lord  Jesus 
receive  our  spirits  ;  and  we  prayed  that  whatever  should  befall 
n>  might  turn  i>ni  for  the  furtherance  of  the  gospel. 

We  prayed  for  the  dear  ones  far  away,  hound  to  us  by  the 
tenderest  ties  of  human  affection,  whose  faces  we  were  perhaps 
never  again  to  see  among  the  living.  For  all  their  welfare. 
temporal  and  eternal,  we  committed  them  to  our  covenant  God. 

We  prayed    for  the  dear  churches  in  our  native    land    in  which 

we  were  especially  interested,  and  for  the  universal  kingdom  of 
Christ.  We  prayed  for  those  dark  mountains,  full  of  the  habi- 
tations of  cruelty,  that  the  dayspring  from  on  high  might  visit 
them,  and    even   the  men  that  were   thirsting   for  our  blood 

might   put  on   the  nature  of  the    Lamb  and    learn   to  sit  at  the 

feet   of    JeSUS. 

When  we  had  closed  this  act  of  worship  we  found  Khudr 
waiting  with  an  answer  to  our  message.  The  Agha  said  it  was 
very  hot  ju-t  then,  we  had  better  prepare  our  dinner  and  eat  it 
in  peace:  in  the  cool  of  the  da v  he  would  come  and  examine 
our  baggage  and  take  from  as  whatever  he  should  choose.  We 
could  not  be  permitted  either  to  pursue  our  intended  journey 
or  to  go  back  to  Mosul,  hut  the  next  dav  he  would  send  us  to 
Mime  other  A.gha  in  the  mountains.  There  was  nothing  more 
for  us  to  do.  So  we  told  Khudr  to  bring  forth  what  provision 
there  was  for  our  dinner  and  prepared  ourselves  to  eat  with 
Buch  appetite  a-  we  might  have  when  food  should  he  set  before 
II-. 

Mr.  Marsh  had  been  for  two  or  three  days  under  the  neces- 
sity of  taking  a  few  drop-  of  laudanum  before  each  meal  ; 
accordingly,  the  traveling-bag,  in  which  I  carried  my  Utile 
assortment  of  medicines,  was  brought  ami  opened.  The  conse- 
quence was  that  Melul  A.gha,  alarmed  probably  with  the  suspi- 
cion that  we  were  attempting  to  conceal  our  money,  found  it 
convenient  not  to  deter  to  the  cool  of  the  day  his  promised  visit 
of  inspection  and  appropriation.  lie  came  striding  from  the 
castle,  and  having  satisfied  himself  as  to  the  medicine-box,  pro- 


AMON'i;    THE    KOORDS.  35 

ceeded  to  search  the  bag  from  which  it  had  been  taken,  and 
then  required  as  to  open  all  our  baggage.  In  Mr.  Marsh's 
writing-case  was  a  bag  containing  L,000  piastres  (about  $45.50), 
all  that  remained  of  the  money  we  had  taken  for  our  journey. 
[n  my  own  case  were  sixty  piastres  belonging  t<>  Khudr. 
These  sums  of  money,  two  razors,  a  very  large  pocket-knife,  a 
few  handkerchiefs,  and  similar  articles,  lie  took  into  his  posses- 
sion.     He  then  directed   us  to  pack  up  our  g Is  again,  which 

we  did  with  all  practical  expedition,  for  his  light-fingered  fol- 
lower- hung  around  u-  in  a  cloud  seizing  whatever  they 
could  touch,  when  his  eve  was  not  on  them.  After  this,  he. 
and  hi>  principal  men  sat  down  on  the  rock  just  behind,  above 
us.  and  under  the  same  -hade  which  protected  us.  Our  dinner 
was  brought,  and  we  proceeded  with  the  eating  of  it.  while 
they  were  evidently  engaged  in  some  grave  debate  of  which 
we  knew  that  we  were  the  subject.  We  had  concluded  our 
repast  before  they  had  concluded  their  debate,  though  we  were 
by  no  means  in  a  hurry  with  our  eating.  After  a  while  clouds 
suddenly  gathered  above  us;  there  was  a  growl  of  thunder,  and 
a  brief  yel  heavy  shower  drove  the  council  into  the  castle, 
while  we  found  such  shelter  a-  we  could  under  a  huge  felt  gar- 
ment belonging  to  one  of  our  muleteers. 

While  the  Agha  and  the  council  were   in  the  castle,  one  inci- 
dent OCCUlTed    of    which  we    had    no    knowledge  until    the    next 

day.  They  summoned  Khudr  into  their  presence  and  putting 
a  dagger  to  hi.-  throat  required  him  under  pain  of  instant  death 

to    tell    what    we    had    done    with    the    rest   of    our   money.       He 

assured  them  that   he   knew  we  had  no  other  money  than  thai 

which    they    had    already    seized,  and    that    we   carried    with    u> 

only  enough  for  the  expenses  of  the  road  to  Oor riah.     At 

la-t  we  saw  them  approaching  from  the  castle,  the  chief  and 
the  throng  of  hi-  followers.  <>m-  hag-age  underwent  a  new 
search,  and  in  default  of  money  large  appropriations  were  made 

of    our   goods.       Why    the\    took    BO    much     \va-    not    wonderful. 

it  wa-  only  strange  thai  they  took  bo  little.  Our  fear  was  that 
what  they  left  ii-  was  onlj  designed  to  paj  Bomebody  else  for 
murdering  as.  After  this  the  Agha  examined  our  persons 
with  some  formality,  in  the  presence  of  bis  leading  men.  appar 
ently  appealing  to  them  to  bear  witne 


36  ii  OH  \i;i>   i!  \<'<>\. 

At  last,  not  far  from  four  o'clock,  we  received  the  instruction 
thai  we  were  t"  be  senl  away  immediately,  and  the  mules  were 
broughl  up  i"  receive  their  loads.  This  was  a  relief,  though  ae 
yet  we  knew  in>t  whither  we  were  going.  Had  our  removal 
been  postponed  until  morning  there  were  men  enough  there 
who  would  liave  murdered  ib  in  the  night  for  the  sake  <»!'  strip- 
ping our  dead  bodies  and  settling  the  dispute  whal  should  be 
done  with  us.  A  guard  of  five  armed  inch,  ami  one  old  man 
unarmed,  accompanied  us.  A.f ter  we  had  traveled  perhaps  a 
mile,  we  passed  a  village  and  there  a  Christian,  of  one  of  the 
native  sects,  from  Akre.  came  out  to  see  us  and  to  express  his 
sympathy.  From  him  our  servant  learned  that  they  were  tak- 
ing us  to  a  certain  Mullah,  who  was  a  good  man  and  greatly 
venerated,  and  who  would  be  able  to  protect  us.  When  we 
had  gone  perhaps  an  hour  further  a  party  of  Koords  hailed  our 
escort  from  a  ueighboring  mountain-side,  and  a  parley  took 
place  which  we  did  not  understand.  Immediately  afterward, 
one  of  the  donkey-men,  who  had  been  in  our  caravan  ever  since 
we  left  Akre.  came  up  by  the  side  of  Mr.  Marsh,  and  in  a  few 
words  of  broken  Arabic  tried  to  make  him  understand  that  he 
thought  we  could  rely  on  the  fidelity  of  our  guard.  Calling 
Khudr  to  interpret,  we  found  that  the  party  on  the  hill  had 
wanted  the  privilege  of  killing  us  and  that  our  escort  had  re- 
fused to  indulge  them.  After  these  successive  announcements 
we  breathed  more  freely,  though  we  were  still  on  the  look-out 
for  some  ambush  or  sudden  assault. 

It  was  nearly  sunset  when  we  arrived  at  ^  eaubeh,  a  very 
small  village  in  a  deep,  narrow  valley,  inclosed  on  all  sides  with 
an  irregular  harrier  of  mountains.  Here  we  were  presented  to 
Mullah  Mustapha,  who  came  forth  to  meet  our  caravan  as  it 
approached  his  dwelling.  Our  first  sight  of  this  man  prepos- 
sessed u-  in  his  favor.  He  stood  unarmed  among  his  unarmed 
villagers,  and  received  with  graceful  dignity  the  homage  of 
those  barbarians  as  they  successively  approached  and  kissed  his 
band.  Ik'  accepted  courteously  our  more  occidental  saluta- 
tion-, and  immediately  conducted  us  to  his  house  and  showed 
as  the  terrace  which  we  might  occupy.  Having  seen  our 
biyuraldeh  he  remarked  that  Melul  A.gha  had  committed  a 
■  ,.r\  -nut  error,  that  he  would   read  over  the  document  at  his 


A.MONG    THE   KQORDS.  37 

leisure  and  in  the  morning  would  consult  with  us  as  to  what 
should  be  done  for  our  Bafety.  We  felt  that  God  had  wrought 
for  us  a  wonderful  deliverance;  and  we  could  not  resist  the 
belief  that  he  would  complete  the  work  which  he  had  begun. 

We  lav  down  ami  slept  that  night  without  any  apprehension 
of  danger.  At  the  earliest  hour  in  the  morning  we  were  hon- 
ored with  a  visit  from  our  host,  who  withdrew  us  to  a  corner. 
,ind  in  low,  half -whispered  tones  informed  as  that  two -of  our 
mule-  and  one  of  the  donkeys  had  been  stolen  in  the  night,  hut 
that  he  was  confident  he  should  he  able  to  get  them  hack  in 
the  course  of  the  day.  He  then  asked  asabout  our  plans.  We 
told  him  that  we  preferred  going  through  to  Ooroomiah,  which 
was  as  near  as  Mosul  :  hut  if  we  could  not  proceed  in  safety  we 
wanted  to  return.  He  said  that  messages  had  been  sent  to  the 
chiefs  in  every  direction  t<>  kill  us;  that  on  the  road  to  Ooroo- 
miali  he  could  u'<>  with  us  for  one  dav's  journey,  hut  beyond 
that  would  be  unable  to  secure  our  safety;  that  if  we  chose  to 
return  he  would  go  with  us  a  parr  of  the  way.  and  would  send 
hi-  brother  to  accompany  us  until  we  should  he  out  of  danger. 
Our  determination  was  soon  made 

<)n  Friday,  May  30,  our  stolen  animals  having  been  restored, 
we  started  before  sunrise.  .Mullah  Mustapha  accompanied  us 
on  one  <>f  our  mules,  his  brother,  A.bd  el  Rahman,  on  foot. 
After  tour  or  five  hour-,  we  came  to  the  village  or  summer  en- 
campment of  another  A.gha,  colleague  as  it  were,  and  rival  of 
Melul  A-ha \t  last  the  A.gha  himself,  Khan  Abdul- 
lah, a  rillainous-looking  old  man.  with  a  gray  beard  dyed  red. 
came  and  took  ;i  -eat  beside  our  friend  the  Mullah.  As  he 
looked  toward  me  I  caught  hi-  eye  and  saluted  him.  With  an 
ungracious  look  he  returned  the  salute,  and  we  all  rose  and  paid 
oin-  respects.  Alter  a  protracted  conversation  between  him 
and  our  friend.  Khudr  was  called  ami  through  him  Khan  Ab- 
dullah informed  us  that  if   we  had   < 'alone   he  would  have 

killed  ii-.  hut  that  the  presence  and  friendshipof  Mullah  Musta 
pha  wa-  our  pr< >teci ion 

Now  for  the  explanation  <<\   all   tin-.     These  people  were  on 

the  lookout  tor  ii-  and  were  expecting  to  kill  11-.  When  we 
were    -em    a 1 1| iroacll i 1 1 g,   Khan    Ahdullah    senl    one   o|     hi-    -on-. 

with  a  sufficient  number  of  men.  to  execute  hi-  purpose.     The\ 


23 


:;s  LEONARD    BACON. 

were  hindered  l>\  their  Moslem  reverence  for  the  Mullah,  and 
by  lii>  strenuously  Insisting  thai  they  should  observe  the  laws 
of  hospitality.  Perceiving  thai  the  thing  was  not  •lone,  he  sent 
a  younger  son  with  another  party  of  men  to  hurry  the  busi- 
ness; ami  afterward,  quite  oul  of  patience,  he  came  himself  to 
see  what  was  the  reason  they  were  so  long  about  so  trifling  a 
job.  The  Mullah,  in  the  debate  which  followed,  showed  him 
that  this  might  be  made  an  occasion  for  putting  down  Melul 
Agha;  insisted  very  much  on  our  consequence  and  on  the  ven- 
geance which  the  government  would  be  compelled  to  take  if 
any  harm  should  come  upon  as,  until  at  last  the  Khan  showed 
to  him  and  to  Klnidra  letter  from  an  A.gha,  residing  near 
Aire,  to  Melul  A.gha,  giving  information  of  our  route  and 
advising  him  to  rob  and  kill  us.  This  letter  was  indorsed  with 
a  note  from  Melul  A.ghato  Khan  Ahdullah  informing  him  that 
he  had  robbed  us  in  part  and  advising  him  to  take  what  was 
left  and  kill  us.  Messages  of  the  same  tenor  had  been  sent  in 
every  direction. 


HIS    RETIREMENT.  39 


DR.   BACON'S  RETIREMENT. 


Action  of  the  Society. 

At  the  annual  meeting  of  the  society  held  in  December, 
L865,  a  committee  was  appointed  to  consider  the  Pastor's  sug- 
gestions in  liis  Bermon  of  the  previous  March,  who  reported  to 
an  adjourned  meeting. 

The  society  met  pursuant  to  adjournment,  at  the  meeting- 
house of   the  society,  on    Monday,    February   ">.    L866,  at   T|- 

o'eloek    i'.    M. 

Charles  Robinson  was  appointed  moderator. 

The  committee  appointed,  at  the  meeting  of  the  society  held 
January  LO,  L866,  to  take  into  consideration  the  suggestions 
made  by  the  Pastor,  in  his  anniversary  sermon  preached  in 
March  last,  presented  the  following  report: 

The  committee  appointed  by  the  first  Ecclesiastical  Society, 
to  take  into  consideration  the  communication  made  by  the 
Pastor  to  the  church  and  society,  in  the  month  of  March  last, 
with  respect  to  hi-  pastoral  relations,  respectfully  report: 

That  three  topics,  in  particular,  seemed  to  them  to  require  to 
he  considered,  namely:  first,  the  question  of  acquiescing,  or 
not.  in  the  wish  expressed  by  the  Pastor,  in  that  communica- 
tion, to  be  relieved  of  the  responsibilities  of  his  pastoral  rela- 
tion-: aecondly,  in  case  thai  question  should  he  decided  affirm 
atively,  whether  or  not  that  particular  mode  of  proceeding, 
with  ;i  view  to  the  nlief  of  the  Pastor,  suggested  iii  that  com- 
munication, -honM  be  adopted  :  ami  thirdly,  in  the  evenl  of  the 
retiremenl  of  the  I 'a -tor  from  the  duties  of  bis  office,  what  pro 
vision  should  he  made  for  him  by  the  Bociety,  as  an  expression 
of  their  respeel  ami  affection  :  and  that,  accordingly,  after  much 
conference  and  discussion,  the  committee  have  agreed,  unani 
mously,  to  recommend  to  the  society,  for  it,-  adoption,  the  fol- 
lowing resolutions : 


40  LEON  \  RD    BACON. 

First,  That,  appreciating  the  distinguished  abilities  <»l  our 
Pastor,  and  seeing  no  symptoms  of  decline  of  power  which 
should  lead  him  to  wish  for  relief,  we  nevertheless  deem  it 
proper  and  expedienl  thai  his  desire  to  be  relieved  of  all  charge 
and  responsibility  in  the  pastoral  relation  as  exercised  by  him, 
in  his  communication  to  the  church  and  society  of  last  March 
and  repeated  to  our  committee,  be  complied  with,  as  soon  as 
suitable  provisions  for  that  end  shall   have  been  made 

Second,  As  regards  the  method  of  proceeding  in  this  matter, 
that,  in  our  opinion,  for  the  interests  of  the  church  and  society, 
and  for  preserving  that  entire  harmony  of  feeling  which  now 
e\i-ts  between  our  respected  Pastor  and  ourselves,  a  successor 
in  the  pastoral  office,  over  this  church  and  society,  in  case  of  a 
vacancy,  is  preferable  to  any  sort  of  colleague;  and  yet  that, 
while  we  would  remove  thus  from  the  Pastor  all  weight  of 
responsibility  for  our  future  welfare,  we  shall  desire  and  hope 
to  l>e  aided,  in  our  new  relations,  by  liis  kind  counsel  and  judg- 
ment. 

Third.  That,  in  consideration  of  our  Pastor's  long-continued 
and  faithful  labors  among  us.  and  his  eminently  useful  ministry, 
not  only  in  immediate  connection  with  ourselves,  hut  also  in 
wider  relations,  as  well  to  the  community  in  which  we  li\e  as  to 
our  State  and  country,  and  with  a  view  to  the  expression  of  our 
affectionate  respect,  and  of  our  solicitude  that  his  later  years 
should  not  he  hurtheiied  with  the  necessity  of  work  for  which 
he  may  feel  his  strength  inadequate,  a  committee  he  appointed 
to  devise  some  suitable  provision  for  our  Pastor's  remaining 
years  after  the  termination  of  his  ministry  among  us. 

Edward  E.  Salisbury,  Henry  Trowbridge, 

E.  <'.  Scranton,  ■    El]   Whitney, 

II.  ('.  Kjngsley,  Willis  Bristol, 

Alexandeb  C.  Twining. 

New  Haven.  January,  L866. 

The  report  of  the  committee  wa>  accepted,  the  resolutions 
reported    by    them    were    taken    up    separately,    and     passed    as 

reported  by  the  committee,  with  the  exception  of  the  third, 
which  was  amended  by  inserting  after  the  word  "country"  the 
words  -  and  to  the  church  at  large,"  and  as  amended  was  passed. 


HIS   RETIREMENT.  41 

The  committee  contemplated  by  the  third  resolution  was 
then  appointed,  consisting  of  Edward  E.  Salisbury,  E.  C. 
Scranton,  II.  C.  Kingsley,  Benry  Trowbridge,  Eli  Whitney, 
Willi-  Bristol  and  Alexander  C.  Twining,  who  were  instructed 
to  furnish  to  the  Pa-tor  a  copy  of  the  resolutions. 

Attest:  EDWARD  I.  SAXFORD. 

Society's  ( '/<  /•/■. 


ADJOURNED    MEETING. 

The  society  met  pursuant  to  adjournment,  at  the  meeting- 
house  of  the  society,  <>n  Monday,  March  5th.  1866,  at  7£  p.  m. 

Nathaniel  A.  Bacon,  moderator. 

The  committee  appointed  at  the  last  meeting  to  devise  some 
suitable  provision  for  the  Pastor,  after  the  termination  of  his 
ministry,  made  report  that  having  given  the  subject  due  con- 
sideration, they  recommended  the  passage  of  the  following  reso- 
lutions : 

First,  That  in  the  event  of  Rev.  Dr.  Bacon's  resignation  of 
the  pastoral  office  over  the  First  Church  and  Society  in  New 
Haven,  agreeably  to  the  wish  tor  relief  from  all  pastoral  duties 
and  responsibilities  expressed  by  him  in  hi.-  communication  to 
the  church  and  society  of  Last  March,  ami  to  the  action  of  this 
Bociety  thereupon,  at  an  adjourned  meeting  held  on  the  5th  day 
of  February,  1866,  this  society  will  continue  to  pay  to  him, 
after  said  resignation  shall  have  been  tendered  and  accepted, 
the  sum  of  one  thousand  dollars,  annually,  so  long  as  he  shall 
live,  from  it-  accruing  income. 

S<  cond,  That  this  society  will  proceed  to  raise  by  subscrip- 
tion a  fund  of  ten  thousand  dollars  al  least,  as  a  further  pro- 
vision for  Rev.  hr.  Bacon,  in  the  event  of  hi-  resignation  of 
the  pastoral  office,  and  the  acceptance  thereof  by  the  church 
and  society,  the  income  of  -aid  fund  to  he  paid  to  him.  annu- 
ally, during  hi-  life,  after  -neli  resignation  and  acceptance,  and 
the  principal  to  be  distributed,  at  his  death,  among  members  of 
hi-  family  sun  iving  him.  in  the  manner  and  proportions  which 
ma\  he  specified  in  his  Ias1  will  and  testament ;  and  that  the  said 
fund,  so  long  a-  it  -hall  remain  undistributed  as  aforesaid,  shall 
be  under  the  care  of  the  managers  of  the  ministerial   fund  of 


!•_'  NEON  \i;D    BACON. 

iliis  society,  for  the  time  being,  and  that,  in  the  opinion  of  this 
society,  the  pastoral  office  should  no1  be  resigned  by  Rev.  Dr. 
Bacon  until  after  said  fund  Bhall  have  been  raised. 

Third,  Thai  a  committee  be  appointed  to  receive  subscrip- 
tions to  the  fund  proposed  in  the  next  preceding  resolution. 

The  report  of  the  committee  was  accepted  and  the  resolutions 
passed. 

The  following  persons  were  then  appointed  the  committee 
contemplated  by  the  third  of  said  resolutions,  nz: 

ALEXANDEB    <  '.    TWINING,  EL]    WHITNEY, 

Benry  Trowbridge,  Chesteb  S.  Lyman. 

There  being  no  further  business,  the  meeting  then  adjourned 
without  dav. 

Attest  :  EDWARD   I.  SANFOKD. 

Society's  ( 'lerk. 


SPECIAL    MEETING. 

At  a  special  meeting  of  the  First  Ecclesiastical  Society  in 
New  Haven,  held  pursuant  to  Legal  notice  at  their  new  chapel, 
on  Monday.  August  20th,  L866,  at  7!  o'clock  p.  m. 

Nathaniel  A.  Bacon  was  appointed  moderator. 

Charles  I!.  WTiittlesey  was  appointed  clerk  pro  tern. 

The  call  for  the  meeting  was  then  read  as  follows: 

A  special  meeting  of  the  First  Ecclesiastical  Society  in  New 
Haven  will  be  held  at  their  new  chapel,  on  Monday,  August 
20th,  at  7.',  ./clock  p.  m..  to  heai'  the  report  of  the  committee 
appointed  at  the  last  regular  meeting  of  the  society;  also  to 
consider  a  communication  from  the  Pastorto  the  society,  and  to 
take  action  thereon,  and  to  do  any  other  business  proper  to  he 
done  at  -aid  meeting. 

X<\\  Eaven,  August  Nth.  L866. 

The  committee  appointed  at  the  last  meeting  then  made 
report  as  follows : 

The  committee  appointed  by  the  First  Ecclesiastical  Society 
of  New  Eaven,  at  their  adjourned  meeting  on  the  5th  day  of 
March  last,  -to  receive  subscriptions  to  the  fund  proposed,"  as 
a  further  provision  for  Rev.  Dr.  Bacon,  respectfully  report: 


HIS    RETIREMENT.  43 

Thai  the  committee  prepared  and  extensively  circulated  a 
printed  circular  for  the  members  and  congregation  of  the  First 
Ecclesiastical  Society  of  New  Haven  relating  the  action  of  the 
society  at  its  several  meetings,  and  especially  the  resolutions,  in 
full,  at  the  last  named  meeting;  also  a  few  remarkable  points 
of  the  society's  history  under  the  pastorship  of  Ivev.  Dr.  Bacon  ; 
a  copy  of  this  circular  (dated  April  17th,  L866)  is  herewith 
reported.  Between  that  date  and  the  month  of  July  subscrip- 
tion- were  raised  to  the  amount  of  ten  thousand  and  eighty- 
three  dollars,  "due  and  payable  to  the  society,  in  manner  as 
subscribed,  whenever  the  said  Pastor  (Rev.  Dr.  Bacon)  shall 
have  resigned  the  pastoral  office,  and  his  resignation  has  been 
accepted"  by  the  society.  The  subscription  b<>ol<s,  with  the 
subscriptions  stamped  with  due  cancellation  in  the  name  of 
the  society,  is  herewith  reported.  Since  July  the  amount 
subscribed  has  been  raised  to  ten  thousand  one  hundred  and 
thirty-three  dollars,  and  there  is  a  prospect  of  further  increase. 

The  cash  expense-  of  the  committee  in  raising  the  subscrip- 
tion have  been  as  follows  : 

For  printed  circulars,  as  by  bill  presented. 

For  subscription  1 ks, 

For  envelopes  and  stamps  by  mail. 
For  stamps  for  subscriptions, 

Amount.       ....  sIC. 75 

The  present  auinber  of  subscribers  is  fifty-one.  Four  have 
subscribed  one  thousand  dollars  each ;  seven,  five  hundred 
dollars  each;  three,  from  two  hundred  to  one  hundred  and 
fifty  each;  eleven,  one  hundred  each;  nine,  t  went  \-fi\  e  each; 
fifteen,   fifty   each;    with   ;i    lew   smaller  sums   from   different 

indi\  [duals. 

Xcu  Haven,  A.ugusl  20th,  I   66 

By  order  ,,f  the  committee, 

A  lex.  C  Twining,  Chairman. 


The  following  i-  the  copy  of  the  printed  circular  referred  to 
in  the  foregoing  report  of  the  committee : 


$11.00 

.75 

2.50 

2.50 

II  LEON  \  i;d    BACON. 


Cimihir.  for  tli<    Members  andtfo  Congregation  of  tin  J-'i/st 
Ecclesiastical  Society  of  \<  w  Haven. 

The  undersigned,  a  committee  of  the  First  Ecclesiastical 
Society  of  New  Haven,  appointed  at  an  adjourned  meeting  of 
thai  society,  on  the  tifrh  day  of  March.  L866,  to  carry  out  one 
essentia]  part  of  an  arrangement  concerning  the  prospective 
retirement  of  their  Pastor,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bacon,  address  this 
circular  to  yourself,  with  others,  in  performing  the  duty  com- 
mitted to  them. 

You  are  aware  that  this  arrangement  was  originated  by  a 
proposal  and  request  of  the  Pastor  himself,  made  from  the 
pulpit  in  March  of  the  year  1st;.').  He,  at  that  time,  having 
fulfilled  a  ministry  of  forty  years  in  this  church,  made  known 
Ids  desire  to  be  relieved  while  his  vigor  for  labor  was  yet 
unimpaired.  No  immediate  action,  however,  was  urged  by 
him.  and  the  society,  on  its  part,  not  knowing  any  other  reason 
tor  a  change  than  was  created  by  their  Pastor's  own  request, 
the  subject  was  not  acted  on  till  the  annual  meeting  near  the 
beginning  of  the  present  year,  at  which  time  a  decent  regard  to 
the  Pastor's  feelings  required  that  his  request  should  he  con- 
sidered. The  result,  it  is  well  known,  was  that  the  society 
acceded  to  the  reasonableness  of  the  request,  met  the  same  by  a 
brief  expression  of  their  own  views  respecting  the  manner  of 
the  change  when  it  should  come,  and  appointed  a  committee  of 
seven  to  consider  and  report  upon  the  best  arrangement  for 
carrying  out  the  purpose  thus  mutually  agreed  upon. 

Tins  action  of  the  society,  when  thereupon  communicated  to 
Dr.  Bacon,  was  found  to  he  satisfactory  to  his  feelings  and 
accordant  with  his  views.  On  the  fifth  day  of  March  last  the 
committee  made  their  report  to  the  society  at  its  adjourned 
meeting.  The  society  accepted  the  report,  and  adopted  in  full 
the  following  resolutions : 

Unsolved  First,  That  in  the  event  of  Dr.  Bacon's  resin-na- 
tion of  the  pastoral  office  over  the  First  Church  and  Society  in 
New  Haven,  agreeably  to  the  wish  for  relief  from  all  pastoral 
duties  and  responsibilities  expressed  by  him  in  his  communica- 
tion to  the  church  and  society  of  last  March,  and  to  the  action 
of  thi.-  society  thereupon  at  an    adjourned  meeting  held   on  the 


HIS    RETIREMENT.  45 

fifth  dav  of  February,  L866,  this  Society  will  continue  to  pay 
to  him,  after  said  resignation  shall  have  been  tendered  and 
accepted,  the  sum  of  one  thousand  dollars,  annually,  so  long  as 
he  shall  live,  from  i1"-  accruing  income. 

Scc.nd.  That  the  society  will  proceed  to  raise  by  subscription 
a  fund  of  ten  thousand  dollar.-,  at  least,  as  a  further  provision 
for  Rev.  Dr.  Bacon,  in  the  event  of  his  resignation  of  the  pas- 
toral office,  and  the  acceptance  thereof  by  the  church  and  soci- 
ety, the  income  of  said  fund  to  be  paid  to  him  annually,  during 
hie  life,  after  such  resignation  and  acceptance,  and  the  principal 
to  he  distributed  at  his  death  among  members  of  his  family 
surviving  him.  in  the  manner  and  proportions  which  may  he 
specified  in  his  last  will  and  testament;  and  that  the  said  fund, 
so  long  as  it  .-hall  remain  undistributed  a-  aforesaid,  shall  he 
under  the  care  of  the  managers  of  the  ministerial  fund  of  this 
society  for  the  time  being;  and  that,  in  the  opinion  of  this 
society,  the  pastoral  office  should  not  be  resigned  by  Rev.  Dr. 
Bacon  until  after  -aid  fund  shall  have  been  raised. 

Third.  That  a  committee  he  appointed  to  receive  subscrip- 
tions to  the  fund  proposed,  in  the  next  preceding  resolution. 

Finally,  The  undersigned  were  appointed  a  committee  to 
obtain  the  subscription  contemplated  in  the  above  second  reso- 
lution of  the  Bociety;  which  measure,  it  will  he  seen,  i.-  a  neces- 
sary pre-requisite  to  the  validity  and  effect  of  the  arrangements. 
It  i-  ascertained  that  the  arrangement  itself  i-  satisfactory  to 
the  Pastor. 

Therefore,  fellow  members  of  the  societv  and  conerreffation. 
we  ask  of  you  to  contribute  of  your  liberality  and  mean-  to  this 
expression  of  confidence  and  affection  towards  our  long  tried 
and  faithful  Pastor.  Forty  years  and  now  full  forty-one  years 
of  such  work  as  he  ha-  performed  for  our  society,  is  a  greal  and 
worthy  rccrd.     lie  came  to  ns,  like   hi-  two  immediate  prede- 

■  r-.  a  young  man  who  had    never  home  a  like    hurden.       lie 
found    the    work,  a-    liny    had    found    it.  all    that     he   could    do. 

Bui  he  curried  it  through,  or  rather  hi'  was,  by  Divine  help. 
carried  through  it.  The  mutual  feelings  of  the  committee,  of 
the  society,  and  of  the  church  would  hardly  he  satisfied  should 
we  fail  to  recur,  although  in  the  briefesl  possible  manner,  to 
certain   prominent   particular*  of  our  society's   histon  through 


|i'>  I  EON  \i;i>    l!  \<'(>n. 

the  intervening  period  up  to  the  presenl  time.  The  Center 
Church,  in  thai  period,  besides  sustaining  its  own  membership 
;iikI  ministry,  has  contributed  largely  to  the  formation  of  five 
other  churches  in  New  Haven,  and  two  in  the  suburbs.  More 
than  half  the  original  members  of  the  Third  Church  in  L826, 
were  from  this  church.  The  colored  members  of  what  is  now 
the  Temple  Street  Church  were,  with  few  exceptions,  dismissed 
from  this  to  form  thai  church  in  L829.  The  College  Street 
Church  in  L831,  was  originated  by  a  few  young  men,  most  of 
whom  went  out  from  the  Firsl  Church.  The  Chapel  Street 
Church,  al  its  beginning  in  L638,  received  a  large  portion  of 
it-  membership  from  the  Mime.  The  Davenporl  Church  of 
L862,  was  a  missionary  enterprise  sustained  by  this  church  prin- 
cipally. To  these  maybe  added  the  Fair  Haven  Church,  in 
L830,  and  the  Westville  Church  in  L832,  a  large  fraction  of 
whose  membership,  in  h<>th  instance.-,  was  received  from  this 
church  :  and  in  the  latter,  a  majority  of  its  members  it  is 
believed.  More  than  thirty  members  of  this  church,  since 
L825,  have  become  ministers  of  the  gospel.  Within  ourselves 
we  find  that  of  the  original  membership  of  about  four  hundred 
and  fifty,  only  about  forty  remain  in  this  church,  and  about 
half  as  many  besides  with  other  churches.  During  the  whole 
forty-one  years,  twelve  hundred  and  seventy-five  persons  have 
been  received  to  communion,  of  whom  six  hundred  and  nine 
were  admitted  on  profession  of  their  faith,  about  sixty  more 
than  the  whole  number,  forty-one  years  ago. 

The  amount  of  work  which  has  been  done  outside  for  the 
church  at  large,  and  for  the  country,  is  incalculable,  and  no 
small  part  of  it  has  been  by  and  through  the  Pastor.  Of  his 
sons  whom  death  has  -pared,  we  need  not  tell  the  number  he 
has  supplied  to  the  .-acred  mini-try.  and  to  the  defense  of  the 
country.  Neither  need  we  eay  that,  in  what  remain-  of  his 
work,  for  the  church  universal,  whatever  it  shall  be  that  em- 
ploys tln_-  yet  unabated  vigor  of  his  intellect  ami  heart,  the 
First  Church  :uid  society  will  have  and  will  feel  a  property  and 

possession.  The  committee  desire  to  present  it  as  the  point  of 
immediate  interest  and  importance,  that  the  Pastor — the  Rev. 
Dr.  Bacon — should  have  full  opportunity  for  this  work,  and 
not  be  hindered   by  want  or  by  anxieties  respecting  his  pecun- 


HIS    RETIREMENT.  47 

iary  means.  It  will  be  seen  that  the  Least  sum  which,  in  the 
society'.-  judgment  will  meet  thi.-  necessity,  is  ten  thousand  dol- 
lars, contributed  and  appropriated  in  the  manner  described 
above.  We  only  add.  that  circumstances,  in  our  opinion, 
justify  and  make  advisable  a  yet  larger  subscription,  and  that. 
notwithstanding  the  obvious  fact,  that  a  principal  part  of  the 
whole  must  be  raised  in  large  subscriptions,  we  think  it  appro- 
priate and  important  that  all  should  participate  in  the  act.  in 
such  >ums  as  their  means  allow. 

New  Haven,  Connecticut.  April  17.  1866. 

A  lkxa.\i»ki:  ( '.  Twining, 
Henry  Trowbridge, 
Eli  Whitney, 
( !.  s.  Lyman. 

<  )n  motion  the  report  of  the  committee  was  accepted. 


Thi'  following  communication  from  the  pastor  was  received 
and  read  : 

To  the  First  Ecclesiastical  Society  in  New  ffa/o&n,: 

Brethren  and  Friends— The  unexpected  bu1  character- 
istic liberality  with  which  you  have  met  my  requesl  to  he  re- 
lieved, either  partly  or  entirely  from  the  labors  of  the  pastoral 
office,  before  increasing  infirmity  shall  make  me  unwilling  to 
he  bo  relieved,  require-  the  mos1  grateful  acknowledgmenl  on 
my  part.  Your  kindness  permits  me  to  escape  from  the  pain- 
ful dread  of  Beeing  the  prosperity  of  this  ancient  society 
declining,  in  the  decline  which  musi  boob  come  upon  me. 

1  might  find  many  reasons  lor  postponing  my  resignation  of 
the  responsibilities  which  I  have  sustained  so  long,  bul  I  am 
convinced  that  your  interests  a-  a  religious  Bociety  will  he  pro- 
moted by  the  introduction  of  another  Pastor  in  mv  place  with- 
out any  further  delay.     I  see  no  probability  that  any  measures 

will    he  taken  in  that  direction  while  I  continue    to  act  a-    vmir 

I'    tor. 


|s  LEONARD    BACON. 

At  the  same  time,  I  find  myself  Invited  to  a  work  which  I 
neither  expected  or  desired,  Inn  in  which,  being  associated  with 
colleagues  in  the  prime  and  vigor  of  life,  I  may  hope  to  serve 
for  a  while;  Inn  in  which,  my  experience  as  a  minister  of  the 
gospel  may  be  made  useful  to  Btudents  for  the  ministry. 

Therefore,  in  conformity  with  your  votes  a1  your  adjourned 
meeting  held  on  the  5th  of  February,  L866,  I  bereby  resign  the 
pastoral  office  in  the  Firsl  Church  and  Society  in  New  Haven, 
from  ami  after  the  second  Sabbath  iii  September  next,  which 
will  complete  forty-one  years  and  a  half  since  my  installation. 
1  accept  with  hearty  gratitude  the  provision  yon  have  made  for 
me,  according  to  your  votes  passed  on  the  5th  day  of  March 
last. 

"Commending  yon  to  God  and  t<>  the  word  of  His  grace, 
which  is  able  to  build  you  up.  and  to  give  yon  an  inheritance 
among  all  them  which  are  sanctified,"  I  am,  with  grateful  affec- 
tion, and  with  unceasing  prayer  for  von  all,  your  friend  and 
servant  in  Christ.  LEONAED   BACON. 

New  Haven.  Connect  ii-ut.  August,  1S66. 

( )n  motion,  the  resignation  was  unanimously  accepted,  and 
the  foregoing  communication  ordered  to  he  placed  on  file. 

Voted.  Thai  this  Bociety  ratify  the  proceedings  of  the  com- 
mittee  in  obtaining  the  subscription  for  the  benefil  of  Dr. 
Bacon,  and  accept  said  subscription,  and  will  appropriate  the 
same  according  to  th.-  terms  of  subscription. 

Voted,  That  the  subscription-book  be  lodged  with  the 
archives  of  the  society  ;  also,  that  the  uames  of  the  subscribers, 
with  tin'  circular  accompanying  the  same,  he  entered  upon  the 

records  Of  the  society. 

Voted,  That  a  collector  he  appointed  to  receive  the  sub- 
scriptions obtained  and  to  be  obtained,  to  the  fund  for  Rev.  I  >r. 
Bacon,  and  hand  over  the  same  when  collected,  to  the  mana- 
of  the  ministerial  fund. 

Alexander  C.  Twining  was  appointed  collector,  pursuant  to 
the  foregoing  vote. 

On  motion,  Alexander  < '.  Twining  was  appointed  a  com- 
mittee to  communicate  to  Dr.  Bacon  the  action  of  the  society 
accepting  hi-  resignation.     The  meeting  then  adjourned. 


HIS    RETIREMENT.  4:9 

The  foregoing  record    is  made  from  the  minutes  of  C.  B. 
Whittlesey,  clerk  pro  tern. 

Attest,  EDWARD  I.  SANFOKD,  Clerk. 


<  >n  Sunday,  August  2<'>.  L866,the  church  held  a  meeting,  the 
record  of  which  is  as  follows : 

At  an  assembly  of  the  First  Church  in  New  Haven, 
appointed  by  the  Senior  Deacon,  with  the  advice  of  a  majority 
of  the  deacons,  and  held  immediately  after  the  morning  service 
to-day,  a  communication  having  been  made  relating  to  and 
explaining  the  mutual  action  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Society  and 
their  Pastor,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bacon,  concerning  the  pastorship,  it 
was — 

Resolved,  That  Deacon  Henry  White  and  Henry  Trow- 
bridge arc  hereby  appointed  on  the  part  of  this  church  to  com- 
municate to  their  Pastor,  the  Rev.  Leonard  Bacon,  the  deep 
feeling  with  which  they  have  receive^  information  of  his  resig- 
nation of  the  pastoral  office;  also  the  acquiescence  of  this 
church  in  the  transactions  between  the  Pastor  and  the  Ecclesi- 
astical Society,  and  in  the  issue  of  the  same,  although  not  of 
our  seeking  or  desiring;  and  our  request  that  after  the  pastoral 
office  -hall  have  become  vacant,  a-  now  appointed,  the  Pastor 
mutually  with  ourselves  will  continue  in  prayer  thai  the  Head 
of  the  Church  will  in  due  time  provide  for  this  church  an  aide 
and  faithful  minister  of  hi-  own  cl sing. 

The  above  was  approved  and  passed  by  vote  without  dissent. 
Attest,  I..  -I.  SAM'oiH).  Clerk. 


At  the  annual   meeting  of  the  Bociety  held    December  28, 

1^71.   the   following   Note   \\;i-   II  lia  II  i  1 1  lolldv    ]>a— ed  ; 

Voted,  That  we  tender  the  thanks  of  this  Bociety  to  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Leonard  Bacon  tor  his  continued  kindness  and  atten- 
tion to  the  members  of  the  Firal  Church  and  c< mgregal ion,  and 
tender  to  him  the  sum  of  five  hundred  dollars,  and  beg  him  to 
accept  the  same  ae  a  feeble  testimonial  oi   our  love  and  respect. 

The  meeting  then  adjourned  siru  die. 

Attest,  ROGEK  S.   WHITE,  Society's  Clerk. 


;,it  LEON  \t:t>    B  VCON. 

Tlic  following  Letter  was  received  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Leon- 
ard Bacon  in  response  to  the  vote  of  the  society  passed  a1  the 
annual  meeting  held  December  28,  1*74: 

'/',<  th   /-"'is/  Ecclesiastical  Society  of  .V>  w  Ha/u&n  : 

>I  ^  Beloved  ETbiends — Your  vote  of  December  28,  L874, 
has  been  communicated  to  me.  and  with  it  your  generous  and 
mosl  unexpected  gift.  For  such  a  testimonial  of  love  and 
reaped  from  those  whom  it  lias  been  my  happiness  to  serve  in 
the  gospel,  1  would  render  thanks  not  to  them  only  but  to  God 
who  has  given  me  favor  in  their  sighl  far  beyond  my  deserving. 

While  I  am  permitted  to  remain  among  yon  and  have  health 
and  strength  for  any  work,  I  trust  that  all  members  of  the  con- 
gregation— those  to  whom  I  am  comparatively  a  stranger,  as 
well  as  those  with  whom  I  was  connected  in  the  days  of  my 
more  active  ministry — will  remember  that  I  count  it  my  priv- 
ilege to  be  regarded  as  their  servant  for  Christ's  sake,  and  to  be 
called  upon,  especially  in  the  absence  of  another  Pastor,  to  per- 
form every  pastoral  service  not  inconsistent  with  my  actual 
engagements  in  the  Divinity  College. 

The  provision  which  you  made  for  the  relief  and  comfort  of 
my  old  age,  when  yon  consented  to  my  retirement  from  the 
charge  of  the  parish,  hinds  me  to  serve  yon  as  I  may  have 
opportunity;  and  this  fresh  testimony  of  kindness  to  your  old 
Pastor  renews  and  increases  the  obligation. 

With  prayer  for  God's  blessing  upon  all  your  families  and 
upon  every  soul  among  vou.  I  am  gratefully  yours, 

LKnXAUI)   BACON. 

New  Haven,  January  l<;.  l  s7.">. 


MURAL   TABLET.  :>1 


The  annual  meeting  of  the  First  Ecclesiastical  Society  in 
New  Haven  was  held  pursuant  to  legal  notice  at  their  chapel 
od  Wednesday,  December  28,  1881,  at  7i  o'clock  p.  m. 

Mi.  Charles  Thompson  was  chosen  moderator. 

In  consequence  of  the  death   of    Rev.    Dr.    Bacon,    which 

occurred    on    Saturday   morning,   the    24th    inst.,   ir    was,    on 

motion  of   Mr.  Thomas   R.   Trowbridge,  voted  to  adjourn  for 

one  week  to  Wednesday,  January  4.  1882,  at  7  A  o'clock  p.  m. 

Attest,  ROGEK  S.  WHITE, 

Society's  Clerk. 


At  the  adjourned  meeting  the  following  votes  were  passed: 

Voted,  Thai  a  mural  tablet,  either  of  brass  or  marble,  he 
placed  in  the  audience-room  of  <  enter  ( Jhurch  which  will  be  to 
ourselves,  our  children,  and  our  children's  children  a  constant 
reminder  of  the  noble  life,  untiring  zeal,  and  faithful  ministra- 
tion of  our  late  revered  Pastor,  Rev.  Dr.  Leonard  Bacon. 

Voted,  That  a  committee  of  three  be  appointed  to  arrange 
for  the  tablet,  and  also  be  authorized  to  confer  with  the  family 
of  the  late  Pastor  in  reference  to  the  inscription  which  will  he 
placed  upon  it. 

Mr.  Thomas  R.  Trowbridge,  Mr.  Robert  B.  Bradley,  and 
Mr.  John  C.  Ritter  were  then  chosen  the  committee  in  accord- 
ance with  the  above  vote. 


SERMON 

Preached  by  Leonard  Bacon,  March   L3,  L825. 


II.  Corinthians,  ii.  16.— Who  is  sufficient  for  these  things? 

To-day,  my  beloved  friends,  I  am  permitted,  in  the  provi- 
dence of  God,  to  commence  my  public  services  among  you,  as 
the  minister  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  your  Pastor.  I  am  entering 
into  the  labors  of  a  long  succession  of  able  and  faithful  minis- 
ters who  have  adorned  your  Zi<>n  from  the  days  of  the  Pil- 
grims until  now.  I  am  called  to  preside  over  a  church  which 
God  has  ever  delighted  to  bless  with  the  outpourings  of  his 
spirit.  I  am  called  to  labor  for  the  salvation  of  a  people  who 
have  long  hern  thoroughly  instructed  in  the  doctrines  of  the 
gospel,  ami  who  have  often  testified  that  they  vralue  and  revere 
the  institutions  of  religion.  I  am  called  to  labor  for  the  cause 
of  our  Redeemer,  in  a  city,  where  my  efforts  should  he  con- 
nected in  a  Bpecial  degree  with  the  progress  of  that  cause 
throughout  our  wide  and  growing  country,  and  throughout  the 
world.  I  look  around  me  on  the  duties  which  I  must  perform 
and  the  responsibilities  which  I  musl  sustain.  I  look  within 
mu  tin'  anworthineHfi  which  I  feel  and  the  infirmities  under 
which  I  musl  Btruggle.  \  look  forward  to  the  troubles  that 
niii-t  perplex  m\  efforts  and  the  trials  that  musl  assail  my 
spirit.     W"ho  is  suflftcienl  for  these  things  3 

<  Mi  am  ordinary  occasion,  the  words  of  my  text  inighl  lead 
me  to  discuss,  in  abstracl  and  general  terms,  the  responsibilities, 
and   the   trials  and   the  insufficiency  of  the  Christian  ministry. 


5  I  NEON  \i;n    BACON. 

But  it  I  should  pursue  such  a  course  on  the  present  occasion,  I 
should  do  injustice  to  my  own  feelings,  and  I  doubt  not  to 
yours.     I  trust  thai  I  shall  receive  your  willing  attention  while 

I  -peak  in  vmi  freely,  plainly,  and  without  reserve,  as  the  rela- 
tion into  which  we  have  entered  demands;  and  tell  you  what 
it  is  which  I  am  called  to  do  among  you,  what  I  am  who  ;im 
called  to  do  it.  and  what  it  is  which  may  be  expected  to  dis- 
courage me  in  doing  it.  In  other  words,  I  mean  to  be  specific 
and  personal  in  telling  you  of  what  will  he  the  duties,  the  weak- 
nesses, and  the  trials  of  him  whom  you  have  chosen,  and  whom 
God  in  his  providence  has  sent  among  you  to  he  your   minister. 

In  looking  at  the  duties  which  I  am  to  perform  among  VOU 
the  first  topic  which  demands  our  attention  is  the  public  preach- 
ing of  the  gospel.     God — said   the  Apostle  to  the  Corinthians 

"hath  given  to  us  the  ministry  of  reconciliation;  to  wit:  that 
God  was  in  Christ  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself,  not  im- 
puting their  trespasses  unto  them.  Now  then  we  are  ambassa- 
dors for  Christ,as  though  God  did  beseech  you  by  us:  we  pray 
you  in  Christ's  stead  be  ye  reconciled  to  God.  For  he  hath 
made  him  to  he  sin  for  us,  who  knew  no  sin,  that  we  might  he 
made  the  righteousness  of  God   in  him."     Let  these  words  he 

understood  in  all  that  they  say  and  in  all  that  they  imply,  and 
you  will  understand  what  is  the  substance  of  the  gospel  which 
I  am  to  preach  among  you — what  is  the  importance  and  respon- 
sibility of  my  employment  as  a  preacher  -what  must  he  the 
purpose  of  my  preaching — ami  what  is  the  great  motive  which 
I  must  urge  upon  you  for  the  attainment  of  this  purpose. 

The  substance  of  the  gospel  which  is  committed  to  me  is  the 
great  doctrine  of  reconciliation;  to  wit:  Cod  in  Christ  recon 
cilingthe  world  unto  himself .  In  the  inculcation  of  this  doc- 
trine, it  will  be  my  duty  to  untold  before  you  the  character  of 
<  rod  wdio  created  all  worlds  by  his  power,  who  governs  all  intelli- 
gent beings  by  his  law,  who  directs  all  events  by  his  providence. 
I  must  tell  you  of  his  power,  his  presence,  his  wisdom,  his  love, 
hi-  sovereignty  and  hi-  justice.  I  must  lead  you  to  behold  him 
in  the  infinite  excellence  and  the  incomprehensible   glory  of  his 

being  that  you  may  know  who  it  is  that  is  reconciling  the  world 

unto  himself.  I  must  array  before  you  the  character  of  the 
world — showing  yon    bow  fearfully  it  is  at  variance  with  Cod's 


iN.\n;ri;.YL  SERMON.  55 

law  and  with  God's  character.  I  must  tell  you  of  your  own 
guilt — your  own  entire  depravity,  that  you  may  know  who  they 
are  whom  (rod  is  reconciling  unto  himself.  I  must  tell  yon  of 
Christ  in  the  infinite  dignity  of  his  person — God  manifest  in 
the  flesh; — in.  the  endearing  tenderness  of  his  relation  to  us — 
the  high  priest  who  can  he  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  in- 
firmities;— and  in  the  mysterious  and  touching  sublimity  of  his 
great  work  when  lie  offered  up  himself  for  the  sins  of  the  world 
— a  lamb  without  spot  or  blemish — that  you  may  know  in 
whom  God  is  reconciling:  the  world  unto  himself.  I  must  tell 
vou  of  that  Holy  Spirit  which  God,  in  the  exercise  of  his  sov- 
ereignty, gives  freely  to  the  unworthy  and  rebellious,  not  impu- 
ting their  trespasses  unto  them,  hut  dealing  with  them  as 
though  they  were  worthy,  sanctifying  their  affections  by  his 
grace,  and  bringing  them  at  last  to  heaven: — that  you  may 
know  how  it  is  that  God  in  Christ  is  reconciling  the  world  unto 
himself. 

••  Now  then  we  are  ambassadors  for  Christ,  as  though  God  did 
beseech  you  by  us."  When  1  stand  before  you  in  this  holy 
place.  I  Btand  in  the  exercise  of  a  high  and  holy  office.  I  stand 
before  yon  a-  the  ambassador  of  Christ  to  plead  with  you  in  his 
name.  My  words  should  he  the  expression  of  his  will;  and  if 
bo,  they  are  as  though  God  did  beseech  you  by  me.  When  I 
stand  in  this  pulpit,  I  am  to  speak  in  the  name  of  the  Lord ; 
and  when  I  come  here  to  do  my  Master's  business,  I  am  not  to 
seek  your  approbation,  or  to  tremble  at  the  thought  of  your 
displeasure,  I  am  to  bave  before  my  thought  no  approbation  hut 
his,  no  fear  hut  the  fear  of  his  tribunal,  ih»  interests  hut  the  in- 
terests of  his  kingdom  and  of  the  souls   for  whom   he  died.     I 

am  to  think  of  nothing  bill  m\  Lord  and  the  errand  on  which 
he  has  gent  me. 

And  1 1 1 \  errand  i>  this.  '*  I  beseech  vou  in  Christ's  stead,  be 
ye. reconciled  onto  God."  The  purpose  of  my  preaching  here 
must  be  nothing  else  than  to  make  vou  completely  reconciled  to 
the  God  with  whom  vou  ire  at  variance.  I  must  persuade  yoti 
to  forsake  your  -in-,  to  renounce  your  selfishness,  to  put  oil  all 
-en-ual  and  worldh  affections,  and  to   live   not    lor  yourselves, 

hut  for  God,  who  demand-  of  all  bis  creatures  the  heart  unpol 
luted     the  affections   undivided.     All  this  i-  implied  in  a  com 


.*.•;  I  EON  \i;i>    B  \cc\. 

plete  reconciliation  to  bim,  and  all  \\\\>  musl  be  included  in  my 
purpose.  I  musl  nol  onh  plead  with  i!i«'  impenitent  to  bring 
them  i"  repentance  ;  bu1  I  musl  also  stimulate  and  lead  on  the 
followers  of  Jesus  to  a  bigher  and  still  bigher  elevation  of  ( 'hris- 
tian  character,  to  a  purer  holiness  and  a  more  entire  de\  otedness. 
No,  my  brethren,  I  musl  never  give  over  beseeching  you  in 
Christ's  stead  be  ye  reconciled  to  God,  fill  von  bave  all  become 
pure  in  heart,  perfecl  in  example,  unwearied  in  obedience,  and 
zealous  in  enterprise  like  the  saints  in  beaven,  or  like  Hie  spirits 
that  minister  before  the  throne. 

And  this  is  tlif  grand  motive  which  I  am  to  urge  on  your 
attention  for  the  attainment  of  this  purpose.  God  hath  made 
him  who  knew  no  sin  to  be  a  sin  offeringfor  u>,  that  we  might 
be  righteous  in  the  sight  of  God  through  him.  [  am  to  beseech 
vnii  by  the  mercies  of  God— by  Ids  love  in  Christ— by  the  ex- 
hibition which  be  lias  made  of  his  character  and  his  authority 
in  that  greal  sacrifice  for  sin.  All  my  preaching  must  be  de- 
signed to  bring  you  to  Christ.  It  musl  begin  and  end  with 
Christ.     "  Christ,  none  but  Christ." 

But  the  public  preaching  of  the  word  will  nol  be  my  only 
duty  as  your  minister.  It  musl  indeed  be  regarded  as  my  great 
business,  and  the  work  of  preparation  for  my  public  efforts 
must  mainly  occupy  my  studies  and  my  cares.  This  you  will 
above  all  things  require  of  your  minister  :  and  tins  my  duty  to 
my  Master  demands.  I  In  t  at  the  same  time,  your  feelings  and 
mine,  and  the  business  of  my  office  demand  that  I  should  culti- 
vate a  persona]  friendship  with  you  all- -that  I  should  visit  you 
from  bouse  to  bouse  that  I  should  be  known  in  all  your  fami- 
lies that  I  should  become  acquainted,  so  far  as  may  he.  with 
all  your  characters  and  circumstances  and  wants,  and  thus  be 
able  to  adapt  my  instructions  and   entreaties,    my  warnings  and 

reproofs,  my  counsels  and  my  prayers,  t"  each  individual  ; >ng 

you.  This  dun  of  pastoral  intercourse,  though  it  may  he  less 
important  than  some  other  official  duties,  and  though  its  de- 
mands on  my  attention  may  he  less  imperious,  is  not  to  me  on 
that  accounl  the  less  oppressive  in  its  responsibility,  or  the  less 
difficult  in  its  performance,  I  must  converse  with  all,  and  excite 
the  interesl  and  gain  the  attention  of  all-  -the  old,  bowed  down 
with  infirmity  and  heavy  with  years— the  middle-aged,  engrossed 


IN.U  GURAL    SERMON.  •>< 

with  business  and  perplexed  with  cares — the  youth,  exulting 
in  strength  and  buoyant  with  expectation — the  child,  artless  in 
its  ignorance  and  thoughtless  in  its  exuberance  of  life.  I  must 
adapt  myself  to  every  variety  of  moral  character.  The  objector 
must  be  met  wisely,  and  in  the  spirit  of  meekness.  The  open 
transgressor  must  be  reproved.  The  careless  must  be  addressed. 
The  trembling  sinner  must  be  led  to  him  who  is  the  sinner's 
friend,  and  as  the  Bhadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land. 
The  wandering  Christian  must  he  sought  out  and  brought  to 
the  fold  of  Christ.  The  doubting  Christian  must  he  instructed 
patiently  and  diligently  till  all  his  scruples  are  removed.  The 
Belfish  Christian  must  he  excited  to  deeds  of  benevolence.  The 
indolent  Christian  must  lie  roused.  The  active  Christian  must 
In-  urged  on  to  a  more  entire  devotedness.  i  must  meet  you 
to.,  in  every  variety  of  condition  as  well  as  in  every  diversity  of 
character; — in  prosperity  and  in  di>riv>s — in  health  and  in  siek- 
ne>s — in  the  day  of  bereavement  and  in  the  hour  of  death.  All 
this,  you  Bee,  requires  a  versatility  of  talent,  and  a  kindness  and 
patience  and  firmness  of  disposition,  which  Cod  hasgiven  only 
to  a  few.  And  therefore  I  say  that  this  duty  i>  to  me  appall- 
ing in  prospect,  as  it  must  he  oppressive  in  its  performance. 

(  )n  this  topic  I  must  be  permitted  to  add  a  few  words  of  cau- 
tion. People  who  love  their  minister  often  embarrass  him  and 
not  (infrequently  bring  him  into  circumstances  of  great  tempt- 
ation by  their  kindness.  They  wish  to  see  him  always  among 
them  not  only  a-  their  pastor  but  a-  one  of  themselves, — enter- 
ing into  all  their  projects,  sharing  in  all  their  pleasures,  and 
even,  it  may  he,  taking  a  part  in  their  amusements.  Now  the 
minister  who  does  this  neglects  his  duty,  and,  generallj  if  not 
always,  loses  some  part  of  the  official  sanctity  of  his  character. 
Hi-  duties  demand  all  his  time  and  soul,  and  his  public  character 
demands  that  his  hours  of  relaxation  -if  he  ha.-  an)  mould  he 
lii-  own  and  should  he  Bpenl  in  -ueli  retirement  as  Ins  own  dis- 
cretion shall  choose.  I  ask  you  therefore  to  look  on  me  as 
vonr  pastor,  and  never  to  forget  the  duties  of  my  pastoral 
relation.  In  that  relation  1  must  visil  you.  1  nni-t  be  seen  in 
the  house  of  mourning  in  the  chamber  of  sickness  by  the 
bed  of  death;  hut.  I  praj  you,  do  nol  ask  to  aee  me  in  tin' 
circle  of  gaity,  or  at  the  banquet  of  mirth.     I  am  your  minister, 


•'•v  NEON  \KI>    B  LCON. 

and  it  you  knew  your  minister  as  well  as  I  do,  yoxi  would  qoI 
seek  i"  lead  him  into  temptal ion. 

A.nother  Importanl  pari  of  my  duty  as  your  minister  will  be, 
to  lead  in  the  discipline  ami  all  the  proceedings  of  the  church. 
Ever)  minister  is  the  pastor  of  his  church,  that  is,  he  is  placed 
over  it  as  a  Bhepherd,  for  supply,  for  guidance,  for  defence,  lie 
is  its  bishop — that  is  he  is  commissioned  as  its  overseer,  for 
watchful  superintendence  and  constant  direction.  lie  is  in 
some  importanl  sense  responsible  to  G-od  tor  its  purity  and  pros- 
perity. But  at  present  there  is  neither  time  nor  occasion  for 
me  to  dwell  particularly  on  this  part  of  my  official  duty — for  I 
have  many  other  things  to  speak  of,  and  I  trust  that  the  simple 
mention  of  it  will  he  enough  to  bring  before  you  distinctly,  its 
perplexing  labors,  and  it.-  fearful  responsibility. 

The  duties  of  which  I  have  now  spoken  are  such  as  a  minis- 
ter owes  directly  to  the  church  and  people  committed  to  his 
ownespecial  charge.  Hut  if  I  do  what  you  expect  of  your  pas- 
tor, and  what  God  requires  of  his  ministers,  I  must  do  more 
than  this.  You  would  not  wish  to  have  a  minister  who  should 
he  unknown  and  whose  influence  should  he  unfelt  beyond  the 
limits  of  this  congregation.  And  God  demands  of  me,  if  I  am 
to  stand  here  on  the  battlements  of  Zion,  that  I  he  ready — ever 
ready  to  lift  up  my  voice  in  concert  with  my  fellow-watchmen 
far  and  near.  A.-  each  individual  church  is  an  integral  part  of 
that  great  community  the  kingdom  of  God  on  earth,  so  every 
pastor  has  duties  to  perform  not  only  to  the  individual  church 
over  which  he  is  placed,  but  also  to  the  great  kingdom  of  God 
with  which  hi-  own  church  isconnected.  The  kingdom  of  God 
in  all  it>  members,  is  one ;  and  it  iscarryingon  a  war  with  the 
kingdom  of  darknesi — a  war  which  calls  for  strength,  for  fore- 
cast, for  contrivance,  for  unity  of  action — a  war  which  must 
have  no  truce  but  in  conquest,  no  conclusion  hut  in  perfect  vic- 
tory. In  this  war  e\cry  minister  of  Jesus  is  enlisted  as  a  sol- 
dier; and  to  the  general  interests  of  the  cause  he  owes  all  that 
he  can  do,  according  to  the  talent- which  God  has  given  him 
and  the  circumstances  in  which  God  has  placed  him.  This 
warfare  is  continued  from  generation  to  generation,  and  in  our 
day  the  battle  waxes  tierce,  and  the  trumpet  call  is  loud  and 
shrill  and  of  no  uncertain  sound.     The  armies  of  Immanuel  an- 


LNATTGURAL    SERMON.  59 

gathering  force;  and  their  great  captain  is  Leading  them  on, 
from  conquering  and  to  conquer.  This  warfare  is  carried  on 
through  the  world,  wherever  the  banner  of  the  gospel  has  been 
spread  out  on  the  winds  of  heaven.  And  in  our  country  all 
the  circumstances  of  the  conflict  are  such  as  hold  forth  at  once 
the  signal  for  effort  and  the  promise  of  success.  What  these 
circumstances  are  I  need  not  attempt  to  say.  for  without  going 
into  detail  we  can  all  easily  see  enough  to  warrant  the  conclu- 
sion, that  in  such  an  age  and  in  such  a  country  as  this,  every 
minister  has  much  to  do  for  the  prosperity  and  the  progress  of 
the  church  universal — for  the  triumph  of  religion  at  home  and 
the  extension  of  the  gospel  through' the  world.  And  what  a 
weight  of  responsibility  does  this  reflection  bring  down  on  me. 
It  is  a  great  thing  to  W-  a  minister.  But  to  la-  a  minister  in  the 
nineteenth  century — to  he  a  minister  in  a  country  like  ours — to 
l>e  a  minister  here,  where  my  efforts  ought  to  have  an  immediate 
and  a  mighty  bearing  on  the  triumph  of  the  gospel  through  our 
land  and  through  the  world — <)  it  i>  a  fearful  thing.  Who  is 
sufficient ' 

You  Bee  something  of  the  labor-  which  your  minister  must 
perform,  and  something  of  the  responsibilities  which  he  must 
Bustain.  And  vet  these  responsibilities  which  mighl  crush  the 
spirit  of  anangel,and  these  labors  which  might  exhaust  the 
powers  of  a  seraph,  are  laid  on  man.  weak,  .-infill  man — on  me- 
And  this  leads  me  t"  9peak  of  myself  in  my  iinworthiness  and 
my  infirmities,  which  1  would  do  in  all  frankness  of  heart,  and 
with  entire  confidence  in  your  affection. 

It  WOUld  l»e  QSeleSS  tor  me  oil  thifl  OCCasion,  to  descant  at 
Length  on  the  frailty  of  human  nature,  or  the  deep  depr;i\  it  v  of 

the  human  heart.  Equally  vain  would  it  he  to  tell  you  that 
human  frailty  ever  remains  till  the  soul  rises  from  it>  prison- 
house  of  clay ;  or   that    human    depravity    expire-,   even    in   the 

Christian,  only  with  the   lasl    pulsation   of  expiring  1 tality. 

This  yon  know  this  methinks  yon  '-an  never  forgel  ;  ami  yon 
know  too  thai  your  minister  is  human,  encompassed  with  all 
the  infirmities  incidenl  to  man,  and  stained  with  all  the  sinful- 
ness of  our  common  nature.  Bui  sometimes  men,  in  their  par- 
tial judgment  of  an  individual  whom  they  love,  while  they 
acknowledge  thai  In-  is  a   partaker  in  the  common    frailty   and 


60  LEON  \  Rl)    I!  M'cN. 

depravity  of  human  nature,  seem  to  forgel  thai  his  share  in 
human  frailty  is  something  real,  consisting  in  the  peculiar  infir- 
mities of  his  individual  character,  and  thai  his  share  inhuman 
tlcprax  it  \  is  equally  a  reality,  and  consists  in  the  particular  mod- 
ifications of  his  individual  corruption.  <  M'  iliis  it  is  proper  thai 
I  should  remind  you  on  the  presenl  occasion.  ^  < >u  may  be 
prone  to  forgel  it  ;  l>ut  it  is  nevertheless  so  true  that  my  lan- 
guage is  not  too  strong  when  I  >a\  that  the  numberless  diversi- 
tie- .it'  individual   character  arc  little  else   than  the  diversities 

of    human     weakness   and     guilt.      And    when     Paul    said,    >w  we 

have  this  treasure  in  earthen  vessels,"  he  meant  to  imply  that 
the  preaching  of  the  gospel  is  committed  to  frail  and  sinful 
beings,  and  that  everv  individual  minister  has  his  own  infirmi- 
ties and  his  own  corruptions.  <  me  minister  has  too  little  versa- 
tility of  character  for  the  variety  of  his  functions.  Another 
has  too  much  to  accomplish  anything  eitherfor  his  own  im- 
provement or  for  the  cause  to  which  he  is  devoted.  One  is 
chained  down  by  an  unconquerable  indolence;  another  feels 
the  tires  of  an  nnholy  ambition  ever  kindling  and  burning 
within  him.  One  would  seem  to  be  incurably  tainted  with 
avarice;  another  is  equally  distinguished  by  a  native  prodi- 
gality of  temper.  One  is  so  entirely  professional  in  his  hahits 
that  he  ha-  no  sympathy  with  men  ;  another  is  perpetually 
beguiled  and  drawn  aside  by  the  fascination-  of  literature.  One 
i-  morose  in  his  disposition,  and  uncommunicative  in  his  man- 
ner-: another  injures  the  cause  of  his  Redeemer  by  the  ungov- 
ernable gayety  of  his  spirit,  and  the  unrestrained  levity  of  Ins 
conversation.  One  is  phlegmatic,  and  another  is  passionate. 
One  is  too  timid  for  action,  and  another  too  impetuous  for  de- 
liberation. 

y(.n  all  know  this,  for  it  is  a  thing  exposed  to  your  daily 
observation.  I  know  it  too,  as  well  as  von  do.  Von  know;  too 
— and  I  would  not  have  you  forget  for  a  moment  -that  your 
minister  must  be  like  other  ministers,  frail  and  sinful.  And 
the  longer  you  know  me,  the  more  distinct  will  be  your  con- 
ceptions, and  tin-  more  thorough  your  conviction  of  this.  I 
have  long  been  convinced  of  my  infirmity  and  my  depravity  ; 
hut  never  was  my  conviction  so  impressive  as  it  is  now,  when 
I    lo.,k  at  myself,  and  at  the  commission   which    I   am  called  to 


[NAUGURAL   SERMON.  61 

execute.  How  true  is  ir  that  we  have  this  treasure  in  earthen 
vessels.  I  speak  aot  of  youthful  immaturity  and  youthful 
inexperience;  for  it  is  good  for  a  man  to  bear  the  yoke  in  his 
youth — it  is  good  for  a  man  to  acquire  experience,  and  to  learn 
the  full  compass  of  his  powers,  by  the  greatest  and  the  earliest 
efforts; — and  he  who  would  accomplish  high  purposes  of  good, 
in  the  brief  period  of  human  life,  must  begin  betimes  to  do 
with  his  might  whatsoever  his  hand  findeth  to  do.  I  speak  of 
what  I  feel  within  me,  and  of  what  others  have  observed  in  my 
conduct — of  constitutional  frailties  and  unsubdued  corruptions. 
What  they  are  1  need  not  attempt  to  say — for  if  you  know 
them  not  already,  you  will  soon  know  them  all,  and  better  per- 
haps than  I  shall  ever  know  them.  Of  such  things  as  these  1 
-peak — of  the  thousand  temptations  that  will  beset  me  in  all 
my  paths,  and  against  which  [.must  struggle — under  all  this 
weight  of  responsibilty — to  the  end.  Who  Is  sufficient  for 
these  things  '. 

Who  that  i-  tlm>  encompassed  with  infirmity,  and  burdened 
with  guilt,  can  endure  discouragemenl  in  such  a  work  as  this  \ 
And  yet.  when  I  look  forward  to  the  years  that  I  must  spend 
among  you.  it  requires  no  prophetic  wisdom  to  descry  the  per- 
plexities and  trials  that  will  conspire  to  bedge  up  my  path  and  to 
overwhelm  my  spirit.  Blessed  be  God  that  I  know  but  little  of 
the  things  that  must  befall  me  here.  Blessed  be  God  whoever 
covers  with  clouds  and  shallow.-  the  coming  trials  of  our  pilgrim- 
age. But  who.  that  looks  backward  with  cool  reflection,  and 
then  forward  withserious  thoughtfulness,  nerds  any  monitor  to 
tell  him  thai  "  we  spend  our  year-  a-  a  tale  that  is  told,"  or  thai 
each  successive  year  will  come  over  him  with  its  ou  □  oppressh  e 
griefs  and  withering  disappointments?  So  when  I  look  for- 
ward with  deliberate  thought  to  the  years  thai  I  am  to  spend 
among  you,  I  can  see  thai   the}    musl    be  "few  and    evil"; — I 

Can  Bee  that  they  may  he  very  tew.  and  I   can  know  t  hat  every  one 

of  them   will   bring  with  it    it-  own  weighl  of  affliction.     It 

would   he  inappropriate  on  this  occasion    t<>    -peak  of   -ueh  trials 

as  are  common  to  all  oi  personal  afflictions,  bereavement,  and 
disappointment,  and  distress.  Equally  inappropriate,  and  alto 
gether  ungenerous  would  ii  !"•  t<>  anticipate  the  time,  which 
I  trust  will  never  come,  when  the  kindness  of  mx  people  -hall 
6 


!>•_'  LEON  \KI>    BACON. 

Iiave  passed  away,  and  the  coldness  of  disregard,  or  the  stem 
n  ess  of  dislike  shall  be  found  instead  of  the  affection  which  I 
now  read  in  those  looks  of  gladness,  ;ni<l  hear  in  those  tones  of 
love  with  which  you  l>i<l  me  welcome.  I  would  describe  to 
you,  if  I  could,  the  sorrows,  and  discouragements,  and  trials 
peculiar  to  my  office.  I  would  tell  von  how  the  minister  musl 
share  in  all  the  sorrows  of  liis  flock,  till  every  affliction  mid 
everygrief  of  theirs  becomes  his  own.  I  would  tell  how  dis- 
couraging it  musl  be,  in  the  midst  of  all  his  labors,  to  feel  that 
imbecility  and  that  unworthiness  of  which  I  have  just  been 
speaking.  I  would  tell  liow  sore  must  be  the  trial  of  In*  faith, 
and  how  deeply  painful  to  all  his  tenderesl  feelings,  when  he 
sees  tin'  souls  for  whose  salvation  he  labors  and  prays, — going 
onward  and  downward  to  death.  But  I  know  not  where  to 
begin;  and  if  1  should  attempt  it  now.  the  time  would  fail  me 
before  I  could  know  whereto  end. 

Let  me  conclude,  then,  for  this  morning,  with  one  brief 
request;  and  I  make  this  request  in  view  of  all  that  has  been 
said.  Brethren,  pray  for  me.  Who  is  sufficient  for  these 
things  '  I  am  not.  You  know  that  I  am  not.  You  may  do 
whatever  your  affection  prompts,  to  cheer  me  on  in  the  perform- 
ance of  my  duties.  Over  my  infirmities  and  faults  you  may 
spread  the  mantle  of  your  love.  You  may  seek  to  give  me 
consolation  under  the  discouragements  and  sorrows  that  will 
conspire  to  overwhelm  me.  But  all  this  will  be  of  little  avail. 
Tour  affection,  your  forbearance,  your  sympathy  cannot  gird 
me  with  almighty  power.  Who  is  sufficient  for  these  things? 
— "  I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  strengthening  me."  To 
all  among  you,  then.  I  say,  brethren, pray  for  me.  In  the  little 
circle  tor  social  prayer,  let  your  Pastor  be  remembered.  In  the 
morning  and  evening  worship  of  every  family,  let  supplication 
be  made  for  him.  In  the  retirement  of  every  closet  let  hie 
image  mingle  with  your  thoughts;  and  when  you  get  nearest 
to  the  throne,  let  his  name  ascend  with  your  most  fervent  aspi- 
rations. Then  my  labor  among  you  will  not  he  in  vain.  When 
■•  I  publish  the  name  of  the  Lord,"  "  my  doctrine  shall  drop  as 
the  rain  and  my  speech  shall  distill  a-  the  dew."       I   -hall  appear 

he  fore  voii  arrayed  in  the  salvation  of  our  God,  and  all  his  saints 
will  shout  aloud  for  joy. 


[NAUGURAL    SERMON.  63 


[The  following  Dote  is  on  the  fly-leaf  of  the  sermon.] 

X.  B. — I  wish  it  to  be  understood  that  when  I  preach  a  ser- 
mon like  this — occasional  in  its  subject  and  design,  I  shall  be 
entirely  willing  to  lend  the  manuscript  to  nil  Mich  members  of 
the  society  as  feel  a  particular  desire  to  read  it.  But  the  incon- 
veniences and  Losses,  which  many  ministers  experience  from  the 
practice  of  Lending  all  their  sermons,  are  so  many  and  so  great 
that  I  hope  none  will  require  it  of  inc. 


S  E  R  M  O  N 

Preached  on  bis  Sixty-third  Birthday,  by 
Rev.  Leonard  Bacon,  D.D. 


THE    MKASIRE   OF   OUE    DAYS. 
Preached  i-'kh.  19,  18(>5. 

Psalm  x.vxix.  i.  5.  — Lord,  make  me  to  know  mine  end,  \m>  the  measi  re 
of  my  days.  what  it  is:  that  i  may  know  how  frail  i  am.  behold,  mini 
ha8t  hade  my  dats  u3  \  hand-breadth  vnd  mink  wik  is  as  nothing  be- 
fore  l  ii  ik :   verily  every  man    \t  ills  bes1   state  is  altooetheb  vanity. 

Iii  another  Psalm,  " the  measure  of  < »n r  days"  is  more  defi- 
nitely spoken  of: — "The  days  of  our  years  are  threescore 
years  and  ten;  and  if  by  reason  of  -tren^-rli  tiiev  he  fourscore 
years,  yet  is  their  strength  labor  and  sorrow,  for  it  is  soon  cut 
off,  and  we  fly  away."  Some  men,  having  an  extraordinary 
tenacity  of  Life,  Live  on  rill  t i n - \  have  completed  eighty  years, 
or  even  more,  under  an  ever  accumulating  burthen  of  infirm- 
ities; but  they  arc  only  the  exceptions  thai  prove  the  rule. 
Seventj  years  is  the  ordinary  or  normal  duration  of  a  com- 
pleted human  life.  M<»t  persons,  of  course,  die  much  younger, 
Imr  of  them  we  saj  thai  they  die  before  their  time. 

Long  ago  it  was  thoughl  thai  the  seventy  years  length  of 
human  life  is  divided  naturally  into  terms  or  sections  of  seven 
years  each.  Perhaps  the  thoughl  is  not  altogether  fanciful. 
If  we  allow  the  firsi  aeven  years  of  life  to  infancy,  and  the 
second  to  childhood,  the  third  completes  thai  part  of  human 


66  LEON  \in>    BACON. 

life  which  may  be  called  the  time  of  preparation  tin- the  full 
responsibilities  of  manhood  in  society.  At  the  age  of  twenty 
one,  tlif  youth  is  regarded  a>  having  become  :i  man  capable  of 
performing  all  the  duties  of  citizenship.  Seven  years  later 
;it  twenty-eight—  he  is  do  longer  a  young  man.  A.dd  seven 
years  more,  and  he  lias  already  reached  the  noon  of  life  half 
wav  from  the  cradle  t<>  the  grave.  For  the  last  seven  year.-  be 
has  been   in  the  full  maturity  and  vigor  of   his  powers,  and 

through  two  more  of  these  weeks  of  years  if  he  escapes  dis- 
ease and  serious  accident-  his  bodily  strength,  as  well  as  the 
force  of  his  mind,  remains  undiminished.  Bu1  when  he  has 
completed  the  seventh  of  the  septennial  periods,  and  enters  on 
his  fiftieth  year  of  life,  he  finds  that  his  day  has  begun  to  de- 
cline, lie  is  not  yet  in  his  old  age,  but  he  begins  to  find  that 
the  large  majority  of  men  in  active  life  are  younger  than  him- 
self. He  call  do  as  much  work  as  ever,  and  perhaps  can  do  it 
quite  as  well  as  ever;  hut  gray  hairs  are  on  him  here  and 
there,  and  he  knows  it  ;  his  face  is  marked  with  deeper  fur- 
rows ;  his  complexion  has  lost  all  the  tints  of  youth  ;  his  sight 
grows  dim,  and  needs  some  artificial  aid.  Gradually  but 
>teadilv,  through  twice  seven  years,  the  change  is  going  on. 
His  mind  may  be  as  active  as  ever,  the  faculty  of  judgment 
and  foresight,  trained  by  long  experience,  may  be  wiser,  and 
more  to  he  relied  on  than  ever;  but  he  begins  to  find  (and 
every  year  the  discovery  is  more  complete),  that  he  can  endure 
less  of  hardship,  and  that  lie  is  more  liable  to  infirmity.  Thus 
he  comes  to  the  end  of  the  ninth  septennial  period.  He  has 
completed  sixty-three  years  of  life;  and  there  remain  before 
him  only  seven  short  years — very  short  indeed — to  complete 
the  "threescore  years  and  ten.1'  Henceforth  he  is  an  old  man, 
growing  older  every  day.  What  remains  of  life  to  him,  is  like 
the  sunsel  of  our  northern  climate — twilight  slowly  fading 
into  darkness. 
.lust  at  this  point   I  am  standing  to-day ;  for  to-day  I  enter 

on    the    las1    seven   years  of   the  "  threescore  years  and  ten.'1      I 

remember  how  singular  the  impression  was  when  1  first  heard 
the  expression  from  a  father  in  the  ministry,  about  thirty  years 
.1-.,.  that  he  "thought  he  had  ahoiit  ten  years  work  left  in 
him."     \\i'  was  sixty   years  old.  and   his  constitution  was  un- 


THE  MEASURE  OF  OUB  DAYS.  67 

broken  :  and  he  thought  he  might  live  on,  and  work  on,  about 
ten  years.     Accustomed  as   I  then    was  to  think  more  of  the 

uncertainty  of  mortal  life  than  of  its  certain  limit,  I  was 
startled  by  the  defmiteness  of  the  calculation.  But  now  for 
some  time  past,  I  have  been  learning  to  calculate  my  own 
future  with  the  same  detiniteuess.  The  element  of  uncertainty 
remains,  but  the  element  of  certainty  is  constantly  becoming 
more  predominant  in  all  such  calculations.  I  know  not  what 
a  day  may  bring  forth:  but  I  know  the  measure  of  my  days, 
that  the  days  of  our  years  are  threescore  year.-  and  ten.  and  1 
know  that,  of  that  measure,  only  seven  short  years  remain  to 
me.  I  know  that  those  seven  years  will  he  years  of  decadence 
and  decay — that  every  one  of  them  will  tell  upon  my  mortal 
frame,  that  everyone  of  them  will  pre-  me  forward  to  the 
front  rank  of  old  men  who  have  out-lived  their  generation. 

Meeting  you.  my  friends,  in  the  house  of  God  to-day,  and 
standing  before  you  to  speak  and  to  teach  in  Christ's  name,  I 
propose  -imply  to  present  to  you  some  of  the  views  which  im- 
press nc-  a-  1  look  upon  life  from  my  present  position.  Post- 
poning the  review  of  my  ministry  in  the  pastoral  office  to  a 
more  appropriate  occasion,  and  preferring  to  say  as  little  as 
possible  about  myself.  I  only  intend  to  show  you,  if  I  can,  how 
this  life  which  we  are  now  living,  Beems  to  one  who  finds  that 
he  has  bo  nearly  completed  the  measure  of  his  days. 

I.   First  of  all  I  am  impressed  with  this:  The  measure  of 

OUR  DAYS  <'\  EARTH  [S  ^LTOGETHEB  rNADEQUATE  TO  THE 
MEASURE  OF  01  I:  CAPABILITY  AS  INTELLECTUAL  AND  SPIRIT- 
i  \i.  BEINGS.  When  we  know  most  thoroughly  how  frail  we 
are,  and  realize  most  clearly  that  God  has  made  our  days  as  a 
hand-breadth,  and  that  our  age  i>  as  nothing  before  him  ;  then 

it   is  that   we   fed    b1   deeply  the  disproportion  between  the 

narrow  measure  of  our  day-  and  the  boundless  development 
;,nd   progress  of  which   our   nigher   nature   is  capable.     How 

much    more    might    we  do      how  much  higher  might    we  ascend 

in  knowledge  and  wisdom,  and  in  likeness  to  God     if  life  were 
not    bo   Bhorl  t     For  example.    I    bave  been  learning  from  the 
Scriptures,  first   a-  a  child,  then  as  a  man,  and  then  as  a  minis 
ter  of  the  word   more  than  fifty  years;  and  yel  it  Beems  to  me 
thai    now    I   am   onl\  beginning  to  appreciate  the  treasures  ot 


68  LEONARD    B  tCON. 

wisdom  and  knowledge,  and  to  apprehend  the  evidences  of 
God's  love,  which  are  broughl  to  n>  in  thai  holy  book.  So 
through  all  these  years  I  have  been  learning  a>  my  busy  life 
has  yielded  opportunities  something  about  God's  works  in 
nature,  and  liis  providence  unfolding  into  history,  bu1  I  am 
only  beginning  to  know  what  I  tnighl  know.  I  know  more 
new  than  I  knew  a  year  ago.  I  hope  tp  know  more  next  year 
than  I  know  now.  I  hope  to  go  on  learning,  year  after  year, 
till  sight  shall  fade  from  my  cu^,  ami  the  worn-out  brain  shall 
ccaM'  to  serve  me.  But,  oh.  how  much  more  might  I  learn  if 
I  could  have  another  term  of  threescore  years  and  ten  !  From 
my  childhood  I  have  been  learning  also,  under  God's  gracious 
teaching  (though,  alas!  inaptly  and  slowly ),  the  great  lifedes- 
son  of  confidence  in  God,  of  satisfaction  in  his  will,  of  fellow- 
ship with  his  abhorrence  of  wrong,  and  of  l\^-v  cooperation 
with  his  love.  Is  all  my  possibility  of  progress  in  tins  respect 
shut  up  within  the  narrow  measure  of  my  mortal  days? 

I  have  no  hesitation,  then,  in  saying  that,  in  proportion  as 
God  makes  us  to  know  our  end.  and  the  measure  of  our  days 
what  it  is.  that  we  may  know  how  frail  we  are,  the  conscious- 
ness  of  not  being  created  for  this  life  only  grows  deeper  and 
stronger.  The  promise,  "With  long  life  will  [  satisfy  him," 
can  never  he  perfectly  fulfilled  in  such  a  life  as  this.  Not 
"  threescore  years  and  ten,"  nor  "fourscore  years'1'  are  enough 
for  the  capabilities  of  our  intelligent,  affectionate,  and  spiritual 
nature.  The  machinery  of  this  mortal  body  may  he  clogged 
and  broken,  may  wear  out  and  he  useless — it  may  become  an 
incumbrance,  a  burthen,  a  prison — the  soul,  weary  of  what  has 
become   its  burthen  and   its  prison,  may  long  to  he  released  by 

death  :  hut  it  is  only  a  life  beyond  the  reach  of  these  intirmi- 
tiee  that  can  satisfy  the  soul.  It  is  only  such  a  life  that  can 
develop  all  the  Capabilities  of  our  higher  nature.  "  And  now. 
Lord,  what  wait  I  for?  My  hope  is  in  Thee."  The  hope-  that 
cling.-  to  <io<|  i-  ;i  hope  that  cannot  die. 

Such  i>  one  view  of  life  as  seen  from  tin;  position  at  which    I 

Btand  to-day.  This  life  is  not  enough  for  us.  We  are  made 
for  mor<   than  this. 

II.  Looking  at  our  mortal  life  in  the  light,  as  it  were,  of  life's 
Bunset,  I  am  impressed  with  this  view:   N<»  man  lives  to  any 


THE  MEASUKE  OF  OUE  DAYS.  69 

GOOD  PURPOSE  WHO  LIVES  FOB  EOISELF  ALONE*  M\  individ- 
ual life  on  earth — what  is  ir  \  Its  whole  duration  is  only  a  few 
years  at  the  longest;  and.  when  it  is  ended,  what  will  be  the 
difference  to  me  whether  I  have  been  rich  or  poor — whether  I 
have  lived  in  one  house  or  another — whether  I  have  been 
clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen  and  have  fared  sumptuously 
every  day.  or  have  shivered  in  rags  and  been  pinched  with 
hunger — whether  the  sculptured  marble  is  piled  above  my 
grave,  or  only  the  rounded  turf  shows  that  there  a  dead  body 
was  buried  \  My  individual  life,  by  the  ordinance  of  the  Crea- 
tor, is  intimately  blended  with  other  lives  in  relation.-  of  duty. 
of  dependence,  and  of  love;  and  the  ties  that  bind  me  to 
others  and  make  their  welfare  deal1  to  me.  forbid  me  to  live  for 
individual  interests  of  my  own.  My  life  in  this  world  is  not 
individual  but  social,  and,  as  I  approach  the  end  of  life,  it, 
i-  natural  for  me  to  take  less  thought  for  my  individual  inter- 
ests here,  and  more  for  the  welfare  of  those  whom  I  am  so  soon 
to  leave  behind  me.  A-  I  find  and  feel  that  my  work  is  almost 
done, the  appeal  seems  more  urgent  than  ever  before  :  "  What- 
soever thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might,  for  there 
is  do  work,  nor  device,  nor  knowledge,  nor  wisdom,  in  the 
grave;"  but  O,  how  preposterous  does  it  seem,  at  this  time  of 
life,  to  be  working  for  individual  and  Belfish  interests  of  my 
own!  When  my  end  is  just  before  me,  and  I  understand  bo 
clearly  the  measure  of  my  day.-,  what  it  is,  my  individual  inter- 
ests in  this  world  sink  into  insignificance;  but  the  affections 
which  hind  me  to  those  with  whose  life  my  life  is  blended,  to 
those  who  in  the  course  of  nature  shall  survive  me,  and  to 
those  who  shall  come  after  me  when  the  place-  that  know  me 
dow  shall  know  me  no  more,  lose  none  of  their  strength.  It 
i-  natural  for  me  to  love  the  dear  one-  in  my  borne,  and  all 
thai  are  nearesl  to  my  life,  the  more  and  not  the  less  for  thai  I 
mii-t  leave  them  so  soon,  for  the  same  reason  ii  is  natural 
for  me  to  care  nol  less  but  more  for  the  future  of  the  (lock 
among  whom  I  have  labored  so  long  in  my  high  vocation,  now 

thai   m\    labor    i-    SO    nearly  ended.       For   the   -ame    reason,  it   i- 

natural  for  me,  in  these  lew  lasl  years  of  life,  to  care  nol 
less  but  more  for  those  aggregated  and  enduring  interests 
which  involve  the  welfare  of  millions  and  of  successive  genera 


W  I  EON  \  i:i>    BACON. 

tions.  Now  thai  there  is,  in  this  life,  continually  less  and  less 
thai  can  tempi  m\  selfish  hopes,  is  i1  no1  natural  thai  I  Bhould 
do  what  I  can,  more  freely  and  eaniestly,  for  the  common- 
wealth, for  the  nation,  for  the  church  of  God  on  earth,  lor  flu1 
world  of  mankind  \ 
Think,  now,  young  as  well  as  old,  is  this  view  of  life  an  illu- 

sion  '.  <  >r  is  it  a  sober  sense  of  the  reality  I  Think,  is  it  wise 
to  make  your  own  individual  and  selfish  interest  the  end  for 
which  you  scheme,  and  work,  and  struggle  in  this  world? 
Think,  is  not  that  greal  law  of  religion — that  law  which  is  so 
gloriously  illustrated  in  the    life   and  death  of   Grod's    Incarnate, 

Son — that  law,  "  None  of  us  liveth  to  himself  "—revealed  to 
you  even  in  the  measure  of  your  days?  In  this  dying  yet  en- 
during world,  made  up  of  human  lives  so  intimately  mingled 
with  each  other  in  all  sorts  of  natural  affections  and  sympathies 
— where  every  man  is  connected  with  those  around  him  and 
with  others  far  away,  in  ten  thousand  relations  of  inevitable 
dependence  and  of  duty — where  each  individual  life,  so  tran- 
sient in  itself,  is  inseparably  related  to  the  enduring  interests 
of  society — how  preposterous  is  a  life  of  mere  self-seeking ( 
How  truly  is  that  life  described  by  the  Psalmist:  "-Surely 
every  man  walketh  in  a  vain  show:  surely  they  are  disquieted 
in  vain:  he  heapeth  up  riches,  and  knoweth  not  who  shall 
gather  them."     Are  you  willing  to  live  such  a  life  \ 

III.  Looking  upon  human  life  from  the  position  in  which  1 
stand  to-day,  I  am  impressed  with  this  view :  WORLDLY  DIS- 
TINCTIONS, H0WEVEE  GREAT,  ARE  [NSIGNIFICANT  WHEN  COM- 
PARED WITH  DISTINCTIONS  OF  PERSONAL  CHARACTEB  HKKORE 
GOD.  In  proportion  as  we  consciously  approach  the  end  of 
our  probation,  and  know,  distinctly,  the  measure  of  our  days, 
what  it  is,  all  those  distinctions  which  worldly  minds  most 
value,  lose  their  importance  in  our  view.  Wealth,  social  posi- 
tion, learning,  intellectual  eminence,  the  admiration  ami  applause 
of  men  all  Buch  things,  as  I  advance  in  life,  seem  less  ami  less 
to  be  respected  in  comparison  with  goodness,  purity  of  heart, 
the  simple  and  earnest  love  of  truth  and  right,  and  the  unself- 
ish readiness  to  labor  and  suffer  a1  the  call  of  duty  or  of  love. 
These    element-    of    personal    character   seem    more    and    more 

beautiful—  more  and    more  desirable-    to  one  w  ho  surveys  life, 


THE  MEASURE  OF  0UB  DAYS.  71 

calmly,  in  the  mellow  and  sober  light  of  life's  latest  years. 
What  arc  all  worldly  distinctions — wealth,  station,  honor, 
admiration,  applause — when  seen  no  longer  in  the  bewildering 
glare  of  this  deceitful  world  '. — what  are  they  to  one  who  knows 
and  feels  that  his  remaining  days  are  as  a  hand-breadth  and  his 
life  as  a  vapor? — what  are  they  when  seen  in  the  thoughtful 
twilight  between  this  hurried,  transitory  life  and  the  hereafter? 

Is  r  1 1 ir-  view  a  mistaken  one  \  Or  am  I  right  in  the  impres- 
sion which  I  get  in  looking  upon  life  as  it  is  now  presented  to 
my  view?  Is  goodness  more  worthy  to  be  honored  than  any 
Bort  of  greatness — more  to  be  desired  as  a  personal  endowment 
than  all  riches  and  honors  in  this  world?  Ts  it,  hotter  to  he 
like  (  lirist  than  to  be  anything  within  the  range  of  human  pos- 
sibility  '  Is  it  better  to  have  that  dignity  and  that  felicity  than 
to  have  all  that  the  world  can  give  you  \ 

Von  acknowledge,  then,  that  this  view  of  life  is  not  a  mere 
hallucination,  and  that  to  he  like  Christ  is  really  the  hes^possi- 
ble  attainment.  Well,  do  yon  know  how  you  can  become  like 
Christ?  He  calls  you  to  believe  on  him,  and  to  follow  him, 
that  you  maybe  like  him.  "Come  to  me,"  he  says,  "all  ye 
that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden  "■  ye  that  are  walking  in  a  vain 
show  ye  that  are  disquieted  in  vain — ye  that  are  laboriously 
and  fruitlessly  seeking  greal  things  for  yourselves — ye  that  are 
heaping  up  riches  and  know  not  who  shall  gather  them — 
"come  to  me,  and  I  will  give  von  rest;  take  my  yoke  upon  you 
and  learn  of  me.  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  iii  heart/'  Learn 
of  him,  taking  bis  yoke  upon  you,  ami  giving  yourself  up,  con- 
fidingly and  gratefully,  to  bis  guidance,  and  you  shall  be  trans 
formed   into  his  likeness  by  the  renewing  of  your  mind,  and 

ghall  find    that    if    an\    man    he    in  Christ     he    is  a  new   creature. 

You  can  never  form  such  a  character  without  his  intervention 
reconciling  you  to  <  i < >«  1 .  and  giving  you  his  I  [oly  Spirit. 

IV.  This  brings  me  to  say  that,  as  I  now  survey  the  measure  of 
my  days,  I  am  more  than  ever  before  impressed  with  the  con 

MICTION  THAT  NO  BORT  OF  I. III.    tS  80   REASONABLE  OB   BLESSED 

asa  life  of  godliness.  The  nearer  I  come  to  the  end  of 
my  time  on  earth  the  narrower  the  space  between  me  and  m \ 
grave  the  deeper  ami  clearer  is  the  feeling  in  my  soul,  thai 
godlineat   (ae   religion    is  called   in   the    New    Testament),  the 


72  i  EON  \  i;p    B  \<  o\. 

heaity  acknowledgment  "l  (iod,  the  habitual  worship  of  God, 
the  free  and  thankful  service  of  God  in  .ill  bhe  work  he  gives 
us  here,  the  soul's  joyful  confidence  in  God's  love  and  wisdom, 
fellowship  with  the    Father  and  with   his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  is 

that  without    which    life    is    wasted    and    lost.      Godliness      the 

habitual  Bense  of  ( rod's  loving  presence  and  unfailing  care,  and 
the  consciousness  of  walking  with  him  in  all  duty  and  through 
all  the  vicissitudes  of  joy  and  sorrow — the  habit  of  referring 
all  things  to  God's  will,  and  of  trusting  all  things  to  his  wis- 
dom and  his  love — is  rhe  strength,  the  vital  growth,  the  high- 
esl  beauty,  and  the  sanctity,  of  all  human  goodness ;  and 
without  it  life,  as  related  to  our  highesl  capabilities,  is  a  failure. 
Life  without  godliness  dishonors  God  by  dishonoring  the 
nature  which  he  has  giveu  ns.  Unless  God  be  with  us.  all  the 
bloom  of  life  is  ever  vanishing  away,  like  the  withering  grass, 
like  the  fading  flower ;  the  grace  of  the  fashion  of  it  ever  per- 
ishing^ But  if  (bid  he  with  us,  if  we  see  the  Lord  always 
before  us.  if  all  our  affections  and  all  our  thoughts  pay  homage 
to  him.  then,  all  along  the  way  of  our  pilgrimage,  the  earth 
blooms  with  unfading  beauty,  and  life,  to  its  latest  hour,  is  full 
of  light. 

Let  me  say  farther,  in  this  connection,  that,  as  1  grow  older, 
the  idea  or  conception  of  godliness  becomes,  to  me.  more  sim- 
ple as  well  as  more  attractive.  God  is  revealed  to  men  in 
Christ — revealed  to  you — revealed  as  reconciling  the  world  to 
himself.  If  you  will  learn  of  Christ,  he  will  make  you 
acquainted  with  God— acquainted  with  him  not  only  in  his 
majestic  purity,  in  his  adorable  and  awful  abhorrence  of  evil, 
;ind  in  the  grandeur  of  his  law  and  government,  but  also  in  his 
loving  kindness  and  the  unspeakable  tenderness  of  his  regard 
for  you  in  the  ruin  info  which  you  have  fallen  by  Binning 
against  him.  Let  Christ  teach  you.  and  you  shall  see  in  him 
the  glory  of  the  Father  —a  glory  not  far  away  beyond  the 
stars,  hut  near  at  hand  to  love  you.  to  embrace  you.  and  to 
hies-  \ou.  Learn  of  Christ,  and  you  shall  speak  to  God,  as  a 
child  Bpeaking  to  a  bnher.  " The  doctrine  which  is  according 
to  godliness,"  and  in  which  godliness  has  its  root  and  life,  is 
not  a  Bystem  ><\  metaphysics  or  of  philosophy  ;  it  is  simply  the 
story  of  (  hrist  loving  us.  living  lor  us,  Buffering  and  dying  for 


THE    MEASURE   OF   OUR    DAYS.  i-» 

as,  and  living  forever  as  our  Saviour.  It  i.-  the  simple  but 
Bublime  testimony,  "God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his 
only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not 
perish,  hut  have  everlasting  life."  [t  is  the  "  faithful  saying, 
and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the 
world  To  save  sinners."  Accept  that  faithful  saying — take  to 
your  heart  that  sublime  and  inspiring  testimony — grasp  it  as 
life  from  the  dead — cling  to  it  as  your  hope  forever.  Thus 
you  shall  receive  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child,  and  in 
receiving  it  you  are  horn  again.  Thus  old  things  in  your 
theory  and  plan  of  living,  and  in  your  way  of  thinking  pass 
away,  and  all  things  become  new  ;  and  the  life  which  you  live 
here  on  earth  i>  a  pilgrimage  to  heaven.  "Behold,  wdiat  man- 
ner of  love  is  this  which  the  Father  hath  bestowed  on  us!" 


T  W  O    SERMONS 

Preached  on  the  Fortieth  Anniversary  of  his  Settle- 
ment, by   Rev.  Leonard  Bacon,  D.D. 


MoltXIXU    DISCOURSE. 


REMEMBRANCE   OF    FORTY    FEARS    IN    THE 
PARISH. 

Preached  March   L2,  L86B. 

DEI    i         III.    2.—  TbOO    SHAW    BEMEMBEE     \l.l.    Till-:    WAY    WHICH  THE    I.iihdtmY 
liiph  LED  THEE  THESE  POETS  FEARS 

The  words  of  Moses  to  the  tribes  of  Israel,  after  their  forty 
years  of  wandering  in  the  wilderness,  are  equally  applicable  to 
you  and  to  me  this  day.  Forty  years  ago,  <»n  the  second 
Lord's-day  in  March,  1825,  I  began  my  public  ministry  in  this 
house  as  the  Pastor  of  this  Church  and  Society.  Vein- kind 
congratulations  offered  to  me  <»n  the  anniversary  of  my  Instal- 
lation, relieve  me  of  the  necessity  of  any  apology  for  the  use 
which  I  propose  to  make  of  the  text,  or  for  the  seeming  ego 
tism  of  ;•  discourse  in  which  I  cannot  avoid  speaking  of  myself. 
The  relation  between  yon  and  me  is  such  so  like  ;i  confi- 
dential  friendship  cemented  by  long  acquaintance  thai  I  maj 
Bpeafe  wit  li« .11 1  any  fear  of  being  unkindly  interpreted,  even 
though  the  occasion  leads  me  to  speak  of  "myself  as  your  ser- 
\;int   for  Jesus'  sake."     A  free  use  of  personal   reminiscences 


.»>  LEON  vi:n    BACON. 

may  be  permitted  on  this  occasion,  and  may  help  the  serious 
and  religious  impression  which  such  an  occasion  in  the  house 
ot  God  oughl  to  produce  on  von  ami  on  me. 

forty  years  ago,  this  congregation  had  been  more  than  two 
years  without  a  pastor.  Dr.  Taylor  having  been  dismissed  from 
hischarge  in  December,  L822.  The  pulpit  had  been  supplied. 
some  of  the  time,  l>v  the  late  Pastor;  and.  while  his  services 
could  be  had  in  that  way,  the  people  were  comparatively  indif- 
ferent about  obtaining  a  more  permanent  ministry.  Vet  sev- 
eral persons  had  been  employed  who  migbi  be  regarded  as 
candidates.  Of  these,  one.  whose  subsequent  history  was  not 
creditable  to  himself  or  to  religion,  was  very  solicitous  to  obtain 
a  call,  and  succeeded  so  far  as  to  rally  a  considerable  party  in 
his  favor.  Another  was  the  amiable  and  gifted  <  larlos  Wilcox, 
afterwards  the  Hrst  Pastor  of  the  North  Church  in  Hartford. 
The  gentle  simplicity  and  attractiveness  of  his  character,  and 
the  elaborate  exquisiteness  and  evangelical  earnestness  and  in- 
StructiveneSS  of  his  discourses,  made  such  an  impression,  that 
probably  he  would  have  been  invited  to  the  pastorate,  bul  for 
the  belief  of  judicious  men  that  his  health  would  not  he  ade- 
quate to  so  great  a  charge,  and  that  his  lite  would  he — as  it 
proved — a  short  one.  Another  candidate  was  Albert  Barnes, 
then  recently  from  the  Princeton  Seminary,  who  supplied  the 
pulpit  for  sis  weeks,  and  who  i>  remembered  to  this  day  by 
some  among  as,  who  heard  him  at  that  time  with  a  just  appre- 
ciation of  hi-  capability.  Perhaps  the  church  and  society 
never  made  a  greater  mistake  than  when  they  threw  away  the 
opportunity  of  placing  in  the  pastoral  office  here  a  man  who 
has  since  been  so  distinguished  for  his  usefulness  as  a  preacher 
and  a  Pa-tor.  I  have  never  known  how  to  account  for  it  but 
by  supposing  that  his  not  being  a  graduate  of  Yale  College 
was  permitted  to  have  too  much  weight  with  leading  minds  in 
the  congregation.  Yet  no  consideration  of  that  kind  could 
hinder  the  society  from  uniting  quite  harmoniously  in  a  call  to 
one  whose  voice  they  had  not  heard,  but  who  was  in  the 
height  of  his  popularity  as  Pastor  of  a  Presbyterian  church  in 
.\<-w  York,  the  Rev.  Samuel  II.  Cox,  now  surviving  in  his 
venerable  age.  Perhaps  it  was  well  for  hi-  reputation  and  use- 
fulness   that  he  declined   the  call,    for  marvelously  as  hi.-  gifts 


forty  fears  in  the  parish.  77 

were  adapted  to  the  sphere  in  which  he  was  then  shining,  there 
is  room  for  donbt  whether  they  were  equally  suited  to  so  quiet 
;t  city  as  New  Haven  then  was,  and  to  the  staid  disposition  and 
sturdy  Congregationalism  of  this  church. 

At  la>t  the  Society's  Committee,  partly  (as  I  suppose),  at  the 
recommendation  of  Professor  Stuart,  sent  for  a  youngmanwho 
had  been  studying  theology  at  Ajidover.  Seven  years  before 
he  had  come,  a  fatherless  hoy,  to  Yale  College  :  and.  in  consid- 
eration of  his  circumstances,  he  had  been  admitted  to  the 
sophomore  class,  though  imperfectly  prepared  for  that  stand- 
ing, and  though  the  college  rule  as  to  the  age  for  admission 
must  be  somewhat  relaxed  in  his  favor.  But  though  for  three 
years  he  had  walked  these  streets,  and  though  the  college  offi- 
cers  were  Btrangely  kind  in  their  estimation  of  him,  he  was 
almost  as  much  a  stranger  in  the  city  of  New  Haven  as  if  he 
had  passed  those  three  years  of  college-life  at  Cambridge  or  at 
Hanover.  Perhaps  half  a  dozen  members  of  the  congregation 
— hardly  more—  knew  him  by  Bight,  and  of  them  not  more 
than  one  had  ever  heard  him  preach.  But  the  committee 
knew  that  lie  had  never  Bought  an  opportunity  of  appearing 
here  as  a  candidate,  and  that  on  one  occasion,  when  incidentally 
in  New  Haven,  lie  had  refused  to  preach  lest  it  might  he 
thought  that  he  had  put  himself  in  the  way  of  the  invitation. 

My  introduction  here  was  unexpected  to  myself.  Having 
passed  a  fourth  year  at  Andover,  a-  a  resident  licentiate,  ren- 
dering some  little  assistance  to  the  Professor  of  Sacred  Rhet- 
oric, and  preaching  occasionally  in  the  churches  of  that  region, 
I  had  determined  to  find  tor  myself  a  field  of  service  in  the 
west;  and  on  the  28tb  of  September,  1824,  1  was  ordained  to 
the  ministry  by  the  Hartford  North  Consociation,  convened  in 
it-  annual  meeting  a1  Windsor.  The  next  day,  on  my  return 
to  Hartford,  I  received  a  letter  from  the  committee  of  this 
society,  inviting  me  to  Bupply  their  vacant  pulpit.  In  compli- 
ance with  that  invitation,  I  preached  here  for  the  first  time 
on  the  first  Sabbath  in  October,  and,  with  the  assistance  of 
Presideni  Day,  administered  the  Lord's  Supper.  After 
another  Sabbath  I  insisted  on  pureuing  my  journey  westward, 
that,  al  least,  I  mighl  confer  with  my  mother  before  relin- 
quishing or  even   suspending  the  design   to  which    I    had  com- 


is  LEONARD    BACON. 

mitted  myself.     The  result  was  thai  I  returned  :  and  after  five 
more  weeks  "I  probation,  having  preached,  in  all,  fourteen  Ber- 

nious,   I   wit  hdrew  . 

Bui  I  iniisi  qoI  proceed  in  this  garrulous  method.  Yet,  in 
order  to  buom  you  just  how  things  were  in  relation  to  my  in- 
troduction to  this  ministry,  I  may  saj  that  at  the  annual  meel 
ing  of  the  society  held  at  the  old  Orange  street  lecture-room, 
December  11th,  a  vote  inviting  me  to  settle  in  the  ministry 
here  was  carried  by  forty-two  against  twenty-two.,  and  there- 
upon the  meeting  was  adjourned.  At  the  nexl  meeting 
(Wednesday,  December  L5th),  the  Bubject  was  reconsidered, 
and  by  Bixty-eight  against  twenty  the  society  voted  theirappro- 
bation  of  my  services,  and  their  desire  that  I  should  settle  with 
them  in  the  work  of  the  ministry,  and  requested  the  church  to 
unite  with  them  in  inviting  me  "to  take  charge  of  the  society 
and  the  church  connected  with  it  as  their  Pastor  and  gospel 
minister."  fn  the  evening  of  the  next  Lord's  Day,  December 
I'.'th.  a  responsive  vote  was  passed  by  the  church,  uniting  with 
the  Boeiety  in  the  call.  At  an  adjourned  meeting  of  the 
society,  five  days  later,  they  agreed  on  the  terms  and  condi- 
tion- of  settlement  which  should  he  proposed  to  the  Pastor 
elect,  and  appointed  a  committee  to  "  communicate  with  him 
on  the  subject  of  his  settlement.*'  My  answer,  accepting  the 
invitation,  was  dated  at  Andover.  January  17,  1825;  and  upon 
receiving  it  the  church  and  society  united  in  the  appointment 
of  committees  to  make  arrangements  with  the  Pastor  elect  for 
his  installation. 

I  have  mentioned  these  particulars  partly  for  the  sake  of  re- 
minding you  how  few  of  all  the  persons  who  had  any  part  in 
the  transactions  which  I  have  described,  are  now  alive.  Let 
me,  therefore,- repeat  the  names  that  appear  upon  the  record. 
The  moderator  of  the  society-meeting  was  the  Hon.  .lames 
llillhouse-  at  that  time  more  widely  known  and  honored  than 
perhaps  any  other  citizen  of  Connecticut,  lie  continued  to 
worship  here  almosl  eight  years  Ionizer,  hut  now  nobody  can 
remember  him  without  remembering  the  third  part  of  a  cen- 
tury. He  Was  at  that  time  an  old  man.  whose  active  life  began 
as  long  ago  as  the  Declaration  ot  Independence,  and  whose 
unbroken    force  of    body  and   mind   was  the    wonder  of  hie 


FORTY    VKARS    IN    THE    PARISH.  .'.' 

friends;  yet  I  am  now  only  about  seven  years  younger  than  la- 
was  then.  The  moderator  of  the  church-meeting  was  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Morse,  a  venerable  man.  retired  from  the  ministry  and 
fn»m  ;ill  public  employments,  but  he  was  only  eighteen  months 
older  than  I  am  to-day.  The  society's  clerk  was  Timothy 
Dwight  Williams,  a  young  merchant  greatly  beloved  and  es- 
teemed,  the  efficient  and  devoted  superintendent  of  the  Sab- 
bath-school. !!<•  has  been  dead  thirty-four  years,  but  I  did  not 
think  of  him  as  a  young  man  when  he  died.  The  committee 
entrusted  by  the  society  with  the  dim  of  communicating  their 
call,  were  the  Hon.  Dyer  White.  Deacon  Nathan  Whiting,  and 
Deacon  Stephen  Twining.  The  call  from  the  church  was  com- 
municated by  its  senior  officer,  Deacon  Samuel  Darling.  The 
committee  of  arrangements  were,  on  the  part  of  the  church. 
Deacons  Darling  and  Whiting  :  and,  on  the  part  of  the  society, 
Hon.  Isaac  Mill-.  Captain  Henry  Daggett — a  revolutionary 
officer  —and  one  young  man.  William  J.  Forbes.  The  young- 
est of  all  these  died  beyond  the  noon  of  life,  more  than  twenty- 
five  years  ago;  and  how  few  are  there  here  to-day  who  can 
distinctly  remember  his  face  and  figure,  or  even  the  public 
grief  at  his  funeral  ! 

I  go  hack  to  the  council  which  was  convened  for  the  installa- 
tion. It  consisted  of  twelve  members,  clerical  and  lay,  of 
whom  three  are  -till  living,  And.  inasmuch  as  customs  have 
changed  Bince  then.  1  may  be  allowed  to  speak  of  the  proceed- 
ings more  particularly  than  I  should  otherwise  do.  In  those 
days  it  was  thought  thai  the  ordination  or  installation  of  a  Pas- 
tor was  a  transaction  too  serious  to  be  hurried  over.  A  day  of 
fasting  and  prayer  had  been  kept  by  the  church  in  preparation 
for  the  appointed   Bervice.      The  council   was   assembled    on 

Tuesday,  March  8th,  at  the  old  w len  lecture-room  in  Orange 

-freer,  and  was  organized  b\  the  choice  of  Presidenl  Day  as 
moderator,  and  Professor  Fitch  a-  scribe.  There  wasa  respect- 
able attendance  of  clergymen  and  theological  students,  and 
also  of  those  who.  as  members  oi  the  church  or  oi  the  Bociety, 
had  an  immediate  interesl  in  the  proceedings  so  that  the 
room  was  pretty  well  filled.     The  examination  was  protracted  : 

and   many  questions  were  asked,  of    which    |   could    nol   then  366 

the  bearing,  ami  which  I  answered  without  Buspecting  their  re- 


SO  LEON  \  i:i'    BACON. 

lation  i«'  theological  parties  and  controversies  then  soon  to 
break  forth.  Thai  examination  having  been  completed,  and 
the  candidate  having  been  approved,  the  public  service  <H<1  not 
follow  in  the  evening  still  less  was  it  postponed  to  the  next 
Sunday  evening,  for  the  sake  of  getting  a  large  audience,  and 
avoiding  the  competition  with  places  of  public  amusement; 
but,  the  next  morning,  at  nine  o'clock,  the  council  re-assembled 
at  the  lecture-room  with  the  committees  and  officers  of  the 
church  and  Bociety;  and,  when  the  record  of  the  proceedings 
had  been  read  and  corrected,  the  council  moved  in  procession 
to  this  house,  the  officers  of  the  church  and  society  taking  the 
lead.  Here  a  large  congregation  had  already  assembled, filling 
the  seats,  above  and  below,  save  such  as  had  been  reserved  for 
the  procession.  The  introductory  prayer  was  offered  by  the 
Rev.  Carlos  Wilcox,  of  the  North  Church  in  Hartford.  The 
sermon  (afterwards  published),  was  preached  by  the  Rev.  Joel 
1 1  awes,  of  the  First  Church  in  Hartford.  The  prayer  of  in- 
stallation was  offered  by  the  venerable  Stephen  W.  Stebbinsj  of 
West  Haven,  whose  memory,  even  in  Ins  own  parish,  has  now 
become  a  beautiful  tradition,  though  he  lived  sixteen  years 
after  the  time  of  which  I  am  speaking.  The  charge  was  given 
by  Dr.  Taylor,  as  former  Pastor  of  the  church  ;  the  fellowship 
of  the  churches  was  expressed  by  Mr.  Merwin  ;  and  the  closing 
prayer  was  offered  by  Professor  Fitch. 

You  recognize  the  name-  of  the  three  survivors.  President 
Day  had  then  been  at  the  head  of  the  College  less  than  eight 
years.  To-day  his  successor  has  been  in  office  more  than 
eighteen  years.  Professor  Fitch  had  just  completed  the 
seventh  year  of  his  ministry.  He  resigned  his  charge  thirteen 
years  ago,  claiming,  after  a  longer  term  of  service  than  any  of 
his  predecessors  and  reasonably  claiming — exemption  <>n 
account  of  his  advancing  age.  Dr.  Hawes  is  only  seven  years 
my  senior  in  the  ministry.     He,  too,  in  his  yet  vigorous  old 

.  has  laid  down  all  the  responsibilities  and  burthens  of  his 
pastoral  office,  and  is  now  rejoicing  in  the  ministry  of  his  suc- 
cessor. 

There  is  no  record  by  which  I  can  conveniently  and  exactly 
ascertain  how  many  members  there  were  in  this  church  forty 
years    ago.      In     1S'J(|.    (May    1st,)    the    number    was   three    linn- 


FORTY    FEARS    IN    THE    PARISH.  81 

dred  and  sixty-five.  The  large  additions  of  the  two  following 
years — far  exceeding  the  removals  by  death  and  by  dismis- 
Bion — must  bave  increased  the  Dumber  to  about  five  hundred 
and  fifty,  in  L825.  But  of  the  entire  body  of  communicants 
at  that  time,  there  are  now  connected  with  this  church,  and 
residing  in  the  city  of  NTew  Haven,  only  forty, —  of  whom  six 
arc  confined  by  the  infirmities  of  age,  and  will  probably  never 
visit  this  house  again.  Thirty-four  only  of  the  five  hundred 
and  fifty  (or  thereabout)  who  were  members  in  full  commun- 
ion forty  years  ago,  remain  now  among  us  to  sit  down  at  the 
table  of  the  Lord.  Surely,  my  friends,  though  I  may  say  that 
\on  are  dearer  to  me  than  your  fathers  and  predecessors  could 
be  with  whom  I  entered  into  this  pastoral  relation,  you  cannot 
deny  that  it  is  time  for  me  to  count  myself  among  the  sur- 
vivors of  a  generation  that  will  soon  have  passed  away. 

As  I  call  to  mind  the  circumstances  in  which  I  entered  on 
my  ministry  here,  I  cannot  but  wonder  that  I  am  here  to-day. 
The  church,  at  that  time  was  much  less  homogeneous  and 
muted  than  it  is  now.  Less  than  twenty  years  had  passed 
since  the  dismission  of  Dr.  Dana,  who  had  been  conspicuous 
all  bis  days,  both  here  and  in  his  earlier  pastorate  at  Walling- 
ford,  as  one  of  the  "Old  Light"  or  "Old  Divinity"  party— 
the  "Old  Arminians,"  a-  they  were  often  called  by  way  of  re- 
proach. Under  his  ministry  there  was  little  sympathy  with 
reminiscences  of  "the  Greal  Awakening"  in  the  time  of 
Edwards,  or  with  any  measures  or  efforts  tending  to  a  religious 
excitement  in  the  community.  In  the  nineteen  years  and 
four  months  since  the  termination  of  his  mini-try.  there  had 
Keen  two  pastorates:  thai  of  Professor  Stuart,  which  contin- 
ued   three    \ear-    and     ten     months,     and     that     of     Dr.     Taylor, 

which  continued  ten  years  and  eighl  months.  Those  two  men 
though  greatly  unlike  in  some  respects,  were  alike  in  this; — 
thev  believed  in  the  revival  of  religion  they  believed  in  the 
Edwardean  or  "  New  Lighl  "  views  of  what  religion  is  ;i>  a  per 
-onal  experience  the\  believed  in  the  distinctive  New  England 
theology  1 1  m ■  \  were  powerful  preachers,  each  in  his  own  way, 
tlnir  sermons  being  exceedingly  unlike  the  cautiously  correel 
and  coldly  eleganl  discourses  of  \^y.  Dana.  The  tir-t  of  those 
pastors  had  commenced,  and   the  other  had  carried  on,  a  revo 


82  LEON  \i;i>    B  \rn\. 

lution  in  the  prevalenl  character  and  habits  of  the  church. 
Yet,  ai  the  end  of  twenty  year.-,  there  were  Borne  well  pre- 
served remains  oi  wliat  the  old  church  was  before  tin1  minis- 
try of  Mr.  Stuart.  There  were  elderly  people  who  had  been 
trained  under  the  ministry  <>t'   Dr.  Dana  and  of  his  predecessor 

Mi-.  WhitteUey.  and  who  had  no  ureal  -hare  in  the  intense  re- 
ligious   activity    that     had    flamed     up    around    them-     men     of 

greal  worth  and  greal  weight  in  the  community,  and  of  un- 
questionable character  as  Christians,  hut  who  had  not  been 
accustomed  in  their  youth  to  weekly  prayer  meetings,  or  to 
evening-meetings  of  any  kind.  On  the  other  hand,  there  were 
those  who  could  hardly  conceive  of  religious  character  as  mani- 
festing itself  in  any  other  way  than  in  the  activities  of  ;i  gen- 
eral  awakening.  In  a  church  thus  constituted,  it  was  hardly 
to  be  expected  that  a  young  Pastor,  unskillful  and  inexperi- 
enced, would  he  acceptable  to  nil  parties. 

Moreover,  the  place  to  which  I  had  been  introduced  was  ex- 
ceedingly difficult  in  other  respects.  Professor  Stuart,  by  his 
earnest  and  rousing  sermons,  had  taught  the  people  not  to  he 
satisfied  with  any  preaching  hut  such  as  would  make  tlieni 
think  and  feel,  and  had  made  the  place  a  difficult  one  for  his 
successor.  Dr.  Taylor,  in  his  turn,  had  made  it  more  difficult. 
The  society  was  proud  of  having  had  two  such  Pastors  in  suc- 
cession, and  proudly  grieved  at  having  lost  them.  I  think  I 
understand  myself;  and  I  know  it  is  not  an  affectation  of 
modesty  to  say  that  I  uever  had  any  such  power  in  the  pulpit 
as  they  had  in  their  hest  days.  For  many  years  after  the  com- 
mencement of  my  pastorate,  I  was  habitually  brought  into 
1110-t  disadvantageous  comparison  not  only  with  those  dis- 
tinguished preachers,  but  with  others  of  like  celebrity.  How 
it  was  that  I  continued  here  long  enough  to  become  a  fixture, 
cannot  be  easily  explained.  I  only  know  that  the  congregation 
was  not  made  up  of  critical  hearers;  that  the  few  who  were 
disposed  to  be  critical  and  to  find  fault  because  my  poor  dis- 
courses did  not  equal  those  of  my  predecessors,  were  not  the 
most  capable  of  forming  an  intelligent  and  judicious  opinion  ; 
and  that  those  whose  unfavorable  judgment,  had  it  been  freely 
uttered,  would  have  been  fatal  to  me.  were  very  kind. 

Nor  was  this  all  that    made  my   position    here  a   trying    one. 


FORTY    FEARS    IN    THE    PARISH. 

The  pastorate  of  Professor  Stuart  had  been  made  memorable 
l>y  a  great  religious  revival,  the  first  that  had  shaken  this  com- 
munity in  more  than  fifty  years.  A  new  .era  of  awakening 
had  opened  in  New  England  and  elsewhere.  Dr.  Taylor's 
term  of  service  was  marked  by  two  such  times  of  spiritual 
refreshing — the  last  of  which  was  just  about  coincident  with 
the  close  of  his  ministry.  This  was  in  most  respects  ;i  great 
advantage  to  me.  for  which  I  hope  to  be  thankful  forever. 
But  it  made  the  place  \ cry  difficult  for  a  young  ami  inexpe- 
rienced Pa-tor.  The  revival,  considered  as  a  movement  in  the 
community,  had  Bpent  itself;  and  there  were  those  in  the  con- 
gregation who  naturally  expected  the  young  minister  to  repro- 
duce immediately  the  excitement  which  they  had  enjoyed  so 
much,  which  had  gathered  into  the  church  more  than  a  hun- 
dred in  ;i  single  year,  and  in  which  Mr.  Nettletou.  the  famous 
revivalist,  had  employed  all  his  skill. 

1  have  mentioned  the  fact  that  a  minority  in  the  society 
\oted  against  my  settlement.  Though  I  never  desired  to 
know  or  remember  who  they  were,  I  had  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  that  most  of  them  wi'w  soon  numbered  anion--  my 
kindest  friends.  Others,  who  were  at  first  among  the  most 
enthusiastic  of  my  friends,  and  whom  1  regarded  as  the  best 
and  most  active  members  of  the  Church,  were  disappointed  (as 
they  had  good  reason  to  he.)  and  began  to  think  very  Beriously 
that    New   Haven  needed  a  more  efficient  ministry.       Before 

One    veal-    had     lieen    completed.    I     began    to    lie  depressed    with 

the  feeling  that  those  who  had  hoped  so  much  from  me  were 
disappointed  in  my  endeavors  to  serve  them,  and  with  the 
desponding  expectation  that  my  ministry  would  he  a  failure. 
Dear  to  me  are  the  names  of  some  whose  fatherly  counsel  and 
comfort,  ami  of  others  whose  friendly  intimations  and  token- 
Mi'  sympathy,  kept  meat  my  posl  when  tempted  to  seek  some 
other  employment.  At  last,  just  a-  the  third  year  was  closing, 
there  came  a  time..!'  revival;  and.  in  the  ensuing  year,  fortj 
.-i-lit  persons,  mosl  of  them  younger  than  their  youthful 
pastor,  were  received  to  communion  on  the  profession  oi  their 
faith.  l''rom  that  time  onward,  though  I  have  had  much  to 
dishearten  me  in  the  consciousness  of  falling  far  belo\*  m\ 
aims  and  hopes,  ami  though   I   have  not  been  left  without  m\ 


8  t  l.l'  >N  \i:i'    B  v  "<  IN. 

share  of  personal  and  domestic  sorrows,  my  burthens  have 
been  lightened  by  the  feeling  thai  I  was  not  laboring  in  vain, 
as  well  as  K\  ilic  evergrowing  evidence  of  regard  on  the  part 
of  a  people  who  have  nol  only  honored  me  for  my  work'6 
sake,  1  »nt  have  loved  me  far  beyond  my  desert.  From  the 
time  of  that  tirsl  distinct  and  memorable  success  in  my  minis- 
try, I  have  known  better  than  I  knew  before  how  t<>  preach 
the  gospel,  and  I  trust  I  am  still  learning. 

I  need  no1  enumerate  here  the  various  periods  of  spiritual 
prosperity  and  progress  in  the  congregation,  which  have 
cheered  and  lightened  my  work,  and  without  which  my  min- 
istry w<»uld  have  keen  a  sorrowful  failure.  Oh  that  we  might 
Bee  Buch  times  of  revival  again  before  1  shall  rest  from  these 
labors!  The  last  six  years  have  lefi  upon  our  records  no  traces 
of  u;reat  success;  and  the  thought  of  continuing  to  labor  thus 
— the  accessions  to  our  eoinniunion  hardly  keeping  the  number 
good— is  the  only  painful  thought  in  the  prospect  of  my  grow- 
ing old. 

An  examination  of  our  records — careful  but  not  absolutely 
exact — shows  me  that  in  these  forty  years  twelve  hundred  and 
sixty-four  members  have  keen  added  to  our  communion.  The 
number  received  by  profession,  six  hundred  and  six,  is  con- 
siderably greater  than  the  whole  number  of  communicants 
either  now  or  at  the  time  of  my  installation.  Meanwhile,  we 
have  given  largely  of  our  members  toother  churches  that  have 
grown  up  around  us.  I  find  the  results  of  my  ministry  not 
only  in  the  stability  and  growing  usefulness  of  this  Church, 
but  also  in  many  of  tfye  younger  churches.     Half  the  original 

members  of  the  Third  Church  went   fr us,  with  our  \'vcr 

consent  and  with  my  hearty  approbation.  Our  colored  mem- 
bers a  very  respectable  class  in  their  religious  character — 
were  dismissed,  with  a  few  exceptions,  to  unite  with  others  of 
their  race  in  forming  the  African  Church.  What  is  now  the 
College  Street  Church  began  in  the  zeal  of  a  few  young  men. 
most  of  whom  went  from  as.  The  Chapel  Street  Church,  at 
it-  beginning,  might  almosl  have  keen  called  a  daughter  oi  the 
..hi  First  Church.  More  recently  the  Davenport  Church  is 
the  result  of  a  city-mission  conducted  in  our  name,  and  largely 
aided   by  our  contributions.     Most  of  our  Cedar    Hill    parish 


FORTY    FEARS    IN    THE    PARISH.  v-"' 

ionere    went    to    the    Fair    Haven   Church.       The   Church    at 
Westville  was  formed,  mostly,  out  of  this. 

I  must  postpone  to  the  afternoon  some  things  which  I  had 
intended  to  Bay,  familiarly,  about  the  changes  which  have  been 
going  on  for  the  last  forty  years  outside  of  our  own  congrega- 
tion or  parish — in  this  city — in  our  country  at  large — and  in 
relation  to  the  general  interest  and  progress  of  Christ's  king- 
dom throughout  the  world.  But  before  I  interrupt  these 
desultory  recollections,  let  me  say  that  the  results  which  have 
come  from  this  feeble  ministry  of  mine,  are  not  summed  up  in 
the  statement  that  the  old  First  Church,  through  all  these 
years  of  change,  has  held  its  place  in  the  community  of  sister- 
churches — is  now  as  numerous  and  as  strong  as  at  any  former 
period— is  firm  on  the  foundation  of  the  ancient  faith  in  Jesus 
Christ  the  Saviour  of  lost  men— is  training  up  its  children, 
as  diligently  and  as  intelligently  as  at  any  former  time,  in  the 
right  ways  of  the  Lord.  No,  the  records  of  this  ministry  are 
written  (for  weal  or  woe)  on  individual  minds  that  live  forever, 
and  whom  it  has  been  my  privilege  to  guide  and  strengthen, 
to  instruct  and  to  comfort,  in  life  and  in  death.  Those  records 
are  written  forever  on  minds  that  are  now  in  heaven  before 
the  throne  of  God  and  the  Lamb— on  minds  that  have  passed 
beyond  the  reach  of  hope  and  opportunity — on  minds  still  in 
this  world  of  trial  and  of  conflict;  some,  around  me  here; 
others  far  away  in  the  Wot.  or  on  the  Moody  fields  of  the 
South,  or    where  our  golden    State-    look  out  on    the  Pacific,  or 

in   lands  beyond  the  sea.     Those  records  are  written   forever 

nn  mind-  that  have  believinglv  received  the  word,  and  have 
learned  to  love  Christ  and  to  serve  him — and,  alas!  on   minds 

to  whom  the  word  of  life  i.-  becoming  a  Bavor  Of  death  unto 
death,  and  whose  coiideiniiat ion  will  he  that  they  loved  dark- 
ness rather  than   light. 


AFTERNOON   DISCOURSE. 


REMEMBRANCE   OF    FORTY    YEARS    IX    OTHEE 
RELATIONS. 

Preached  March  L2,   L865. 
Deut.  viii.  2. — Thou  shalt  bemembeh   \i.i.  the  way  which  the  Lord  thy 

lloii    l.l. I'    IHKK   THESE    PORT*    FEARS. 

Iii  the  morning  discourse,  I  intimated  my  purpose  t<»  speak, 
this  afternoon,  in  a  familiar  way,  concerning  some  of  the 
changes  which  have  been  going  on  around  us  within  tke  lasl 
forty  years,  and  which  may  be  regarded  as  involving  the  pro- 
gress and  welfare,  and  the  duty  and  responsibility,  of  this 
ancienl  church. 

I.  M<»t  naturally,  our  thoughts  turn  first  to  the  changes 
which  forty  years  have  brought  forth  m  the  city  of  New 
Haven.  In  the  changes  which  our  city  is  continually  under 
going,  whether  for  good  or  for  evil,  whether  in  growth  <»r  in 
decay,  this  church  of  our  fathers  musl  always  have  a  paro- 
chial- and  I  might  almost  Bay,  a  parental,  interest.  Every 
church  sustains  an  intimate  relation  to  the  local  community 
in  which  ii  dwells,  ;m<l  from  which  its  interests  and  its  firsl 
duties  are  inseparable;  but  the  relation  of  this  church  to  New 
Haven  is  in  some  respects  peculiar.  Historically,  the  town 
i t  -« -I  f.  as  an  organized  community,  in  a  daughter  of  this  church. 
It  vras  for  the  sake  of  planting  here  a  church  encumbered  by 
in.  human   traditions,  and  dependent  on  no  human  authority, 

that   the  founders  of  the  New  Haven  Colony   lefl   their  h es 

in  pleasant  England,  and  their  trade  and  affairs  in  bus1)  London, 


R8  LEONARD    BACON. 

;ind  ventured  their  all  in  the  enterprise. of  establishing  here  a 
civil  commonwealth  of  Christian  men,  "the  Lord's  free  peo 
pie;"  and  this  is  the  church  which  the\  planted  here  before 
their  settlement  had  even  received  an  English  name  It  was 
far  the  sake  of  gaining  for  their  church  a  place  and  habitation, 
thai  all  this  beautiful  plain,  with  the  surrounding  hills  and 
waters,  was  purchased  of  the  savages  whom  they  found  here. 
It  was  for  the  sake  of  their  church  that  they  planned  their 
city,  and  reserved  this  central  square  for  public  uses,  firal  ot 
all  building  here  their  humble  temple,  and  then  making  their 
graves  around  it.  It  was  not  till  after  they  had  constituted 
their  church  by  selecting  from  among  themselves  the  seven 
men  whom  they  deemed  most  "tit  for  the  foundation-work," 
that  their  civil  organization  was  solemnly  inaugurated,  the 
same  seven  men  being  entrusted  with  that  work  also  by  the 
{']■{■<■  consent  of  all  the  planters.  Such  was  the  relation  of  this 
church,  in  its  beginning,  to  the  civil  community  which  was 
formed  around  it;  and  though  political  theories  and  arrange- 
ments, and  law-  and  forms  of  government,  have  changed,  it  has 
never  ceased  to  care  for  the  welfare  of  the  town.  Its  posi- 
tion as  a  center  from  which  Christian  influences  are  to  radiate. 
becomes  more  important  as  the  town  grows  in  population  and 
wealth,  ami  in  all  those  industries  and  institutions  that  consti- 
tute its  commercial  importance  and  it.-  power.  If  the  future 
of  New  Haven  i-  to  he  worthy  of  its  history,  those  moral  and 
religious  influences  which  the  founders  of  this  church  brought 
with  them,  and  which  have  given  character  to  -<>  many  genera- 
tions, must  operate  iii  time  to  come  a-  in  time  past. 

Forty  years  ago,  the  population  of  the  city  was,  by  the  then 
Latest  census,  7,147.  We  may  reckon  its  actual  population  in 
L825,  with  Westville  and  Fair  Haven,  as  not  much  more  than 
8,000.  Within  the  area  of  the  township,  there  were  two  Con- 
gregational churches,  one  Protestant  Episcopal,  one  Methodist 
Episcopal,  and  one  Baptist;  and  all  the  church-edifices,  except 
the  Baptist,  then  recently  built,  and  only  half  as  large  as  it 
now  i-.  were  on  tin-  Green.  Within  the  .-nine  area,  now,  there 
are  probably  50,000  inhabitant — six  times  as  many  as  there 
were  then.  The  two  Congregational  churches  are  now  ten. 
with    nearly   3,500  communicants;    and    connected    with   these 


FORTY    FEARS    IN    OTHER    RELATIONS.  89 

churches  there  are  three  city-mission  chapels  in  which  public 
worship  is  regularly  maintained.  Besides  these  there  is  an 
independent  church  which  was  originally  Congregational  in 
it>  government.  There  arc  also  seven  Protestant  Episcopal 
churches  with  one  mission  chapel, — six  Methodist  Episcopal 
churches,  including  their  German  mission. — and  three  Baptist 
churches.  In  addition  to  all  these,  we  have  a  German  Mora- 
vian church:  a  small  German  Baptist  church;  a  I  niversalist 
church;  three  large  Roman  Catholic  churches,  tilled  to  over- 
flowing with  congregations  of  emigrants  and  children  of  emi- 
grants from  Roman  Catholic  countries;  and  finally,  a  syna- 
gogue  of  German-speaking  Jews.  If  an  intelligent  person  had 
fallen  asleep   in   New   Haven  forty  years  ago,  and   had   waked 

up  this    i ning,    he   would    hardly    have    known   the   place. 

Such  a  man.  waking  after  forty  years  of  unconsciousness, 
would  he  confounded.  In  the  jangle  of  the  sabbath-bells, 
sounding  from  so  many  towers,  he  would  he  lost;  nor  would 
he  tind  himself  till  he  should  look  upon  this  Public  Square. 
Here,  in  the  aspect  of  these  three  churches,  side  by  side,  he 
would  see  the  "Id  New  Haven  once  so  familial'  to  his  view. 

We  need  only  count  up,  by  name,  these  places  of  worship, — 
comparing  tin-  present  time,  in  that  respect,  with  forty  years 
ago, — and  we  realize  how  great  a  change  has  come  to  pass.  It 
i-  not  merely  that  what  was  then  little  more  than  a  pleasant 
village,  though  dignified  with  the  name  and  charter  of  a  city, 
ha-  now  grown  to  he  larger  than  any  city  in  New  England 
then  was;  it  is  not  merely  that  the  streets  which  were  then  so 
quiel  arc  now  crowded  and  noi.-v  with  business;  it  IS  not 
merely  that  the  place  ha-  become  a  greal  bive  of  manufac- 
turing industry;  it  seems  almost  a-  if  New  Haven  had  been 

detached    from    the  old    Puritan    State  of   (  'oimect  iciit.  and    had 

been  anchored  by  some  foreign  shore.  The  population  here. 
forty  year-  ago,  was  of   purely   English  descent,  and    I   think 

I    ma\    -a\     that,    with    the   exception   of   a    lew   colored    people. 

there  were  not  twenty  families  here  whose  ancestors  did  not 
come  over  with  the  firsl  settlers  of  New  England.  Bui  where 
are  we  now?  Strangers  of  other  races,  and  of  other  languages 
and  trad  it  i<  his,  the  Celt,  the  German,  and  the  .lew.  attracted 
l>\  the  liberty  which  our  fathers  achieved  for  us.  have  come  in. 


90  IjKonari)  bacon. 

K\  thousands,  to  -hare  our  inheritance,  and  to  mingle  their  des- 
tiny with  ours. 

Such  changes  in  the  city,  and  especially  in  the  character  of 
it-  population,  cannol  have  taken  place  without  increasing 
greatly  the  responsibility  <>!  the  New  Haven  churches  as  local 
institutions.  What  was  the  local  or  parochial  work  of  our  two 
(  iongregational  churches  forty  years  ago,  compared  with  what 
the  Congregational  churches  in  New  Haven,  (no1  to  mention 
those  of  other  Dames  and    forms,  hut  of  like  precious  faith), 

OUffht  to  he  doing  now!  The  time  will  not  permit  me  to 
dwell  upon  this  thought.  None  who  heai-  me  can  fail  to  dis- 
cern something  at  Least  of  ir>  significance.  In  this  respect,  the 
change  which  the  la>t  forty  years  have  made  is  greater  than 
all  that  came  to  |>as>  in  the  foregoing  century.  Thus  measured, 
the  distance  between  this  day  and  the  beginning  of  my  ministry 
here  is  greater  than  the  distance  between  L825  and  1  7^.">. 

Other  changes  have  taken  place  here,  which  have  greal  sig- 
nificance. Forty  years  ago.  New  Haven  had  really  no  system 
of  public  schools.  The  Lancasterian  school,  in  the  basement  of 
the  Methodist  church  on  the  Green,  was  the  only  common 
school  worth  naming;  and  that  was  a  school  for  hoys  alone,  the 
Lancasterian  school  t'<>r  girls  not  having  been  established.  In 
all    the   city  there    was    no   such  edifice  as  a  schoohhotise  for  the 

eoi n   schools.      A  few  district-schools,  taught  by  women,  in 

hired  apartments,  were  sustained  partly  by  dividends  from  the 
school-fund,  and  partly  by  a  petty  charge  for  tuition.  But 
now  the  common  schools  of  New  Haven,  distributed  through- 
out the  city,  and  provided  with  commodious  and  stately  houses 
built  expressly  for  their  use.  are  almost  a  university  of  them- 
selves,    the  people's  university.      Free  (in  theory)  to  all   the 

children  of  the  city,  as  the  highways  are  free  to  all  travelers, 
they  exceed  in  the  variety  and  extent  of  their  teaching,  and  in 
the  thoroughness  of  their  discipline,  all  that  I  dared  to  hope 
for.  when,  on  the  tir-t  Thanksgiving-day  after  my  installation, 
I  attempted  to  give  some  views  of  what  common  schools  ought 
to  he.  At  that  time,  my  view.-,  as  I  found  reason  to  believe, 
were  deemed  chimerical  by  practical  men.  hut  now  they  are 
more  than  realized  iii  almost  every  particular.  \ay,  so  high 
are    the    aim-    of   the   system    now    in    operation,    that    there    is 


PORTT    FEARS    IN    OTHEB    RELATIONS.  91 

danger  of  its  leaving  out  of  view  the  most  important  reason 
for  it-  own  existence,  namely,  the  duty  of  the  State  to  take 
can-  effectually  that  no  portion  of  its  population  shall  sink  into 
barbarism,  and,  therefore,  to  take  care  that  no  child  in  the  com- 
munity shall  be  permitted  to  grow  up  without  the  rudiments, 
at  least,  of  a  civilizing  education.  What  we  most  need,  jusl 
now.  is  not  higher  and  better  schools  for  the  benefit  of  such 
families  as  are  able  and  willing  to  make  use  of  them,  but  some 
adequate  provision  for  the  benefit  of  children  whom  our  admir- 
able system,  as  now  administered,  does  not  reach. — some 
arrangement  that  shall  include  the  children  who  are  now  ex- 
cluded, because,  in  the  extreme  poverty  of  their  homes,  they 
cannot  comply  with  existing  regulations, — some  arrangement 
that  shall  take  hold  of  the  neglected  children  in  our  streets, 
those  young  mendicants  that  are  growing  into  thieves,  those 
boys  that  are  growing  up  to  he  ruffians  and  burglars,  those 
wretched  girls  whose  prospect  in  life  is  misery  and  infamy. 
Forty  veai'-  ago,  that  stratum  in  society  which  now  lies  below 
the  reach  of  our  common  schools,  hardly  existed  here.  At 
most  ir  was  ton  inconsiderable  to  he  dangerous.  But  now,  in 
the  confluence  of  nations  and  religions  which  swells  our  popu- 
lation, the  danger  is  too  great  to  he  neglected. 

Think  of  another  change.  Forty  years  ago  the  vice  of 
intemperance,  engendered  ami  perpetuated  by  the  common  use 
of  intoxicating  liquors  for  refreshment  and  conviviality,  had 
never  received  any  serious  check  in  this  community.  The 
moderate  drinking  of  such  liquors  was  a  universal  fashion. 
At  that  time  the  mischievousness  of  the  fashion  was  hardly 
suspected.     Certainly   the  obvious  and   unfailing  tendency  of 

moderate    drinking    to    bee ■.  in    multitudes    of    instances, 

immoderate,  had  never  Keen  adequately  impressed  upon  the 
public.  The  drinking-usage  was  everywhere,  and  everywhere 
the  fashion  was  a-  despotic  in  it-  demand-  a-  it  was  perilous  ill 
it-  tendency.  None  could  abstain  from  the  personal  use  of 
those  liquors,  without  incurring  the  reproach  ol  eccentricity 
and  perhaps  of  moroseness.  Nol  t"  oiler  such  refreshment  in 
ordinary    hospitality    seemed   inhospitable  and   niggardly.     <  >n 

the  occasi >f  m\  installation,  a   public  dinner  was  oi  course 

provided   tor  the   council  and    attending  clergymen,  together 


9JJ  ii'  >N  \  i:i»   i'.  m  K  >v 

with  ilu-  officers  «'t'  the  church  and  society;  and  there  was  an 
ample  supply  not  only  of  wine  Inn  also  of  more  perilous  stuff. 
I  also  remember  that,  two  months  later,  when  1  attended  for 
the  firsl  time  a  meeting  of  the  Associated  Pastors  of  the  dis- 
trict, the  sideboard  of  good  father  Swift,  at  whose  house  we 
met,  was  decorated  with  decanters  containing  distilled  spirits, 
and  of  more  than  one  kind.  But  thai  very  year  the  Christian 
duty  of  voluntary  abstinence  as  an  expedient  againsl  the  ten- 
dency t<>  intemperance,  and  of  combining,  l>y  mutual  pledges, 
to  break  the  power  of  a  tyrannical  fashion,  began  to  be  recog- 
nized by  Christian  men.  and  thenceforward  such  means  of 
refreshment  disappeared  from  ordination-dinners  and  all  cleri- 
cal meetings.  In  a  little  while  the  tyrannical  fashion  had  lost 
it>  power.  Every  man  was  at  liberty  to  practice  personal 
abstinence,  either  for  hi>  own  safety  or  for  the  sake  of  saving 
others;  and  there  was  no  law  of  hospitality  requiring  any  man 
to  tempt  bis  guests  by  inviting  them  to  drink  with  him.  I 
need  not  say  how  much  good  was  gained  in  those  early  years  of 
the  temperance-reformation  ;  nor  need  I  say  that  the  liberty 
which  was  then  achieved  remains  to  this  day.  Vet  it  must  be 
confessed  that,  within  the  last  few  years,  much  has  been  lost. 
We  bad  gained  some  measure  of  safety  for  our  young  men.  1 
may  even  say  that  the  convivial  use  of  wine  and  spirituous 
liquors  had  ln-come  unfashionable,  at  least  in  the  better  classes 
of  society.  Much  has  been  lost  in  these  respects.  Never  were 
young  men.  in  this  city,  more  beset  than  now  with  temptations 
to  intemperance,  and  to  the  vices  which  accompany  intemper- 
ance; and.  so  far  as  my  opportunities  of  observation  have 
informed  me,  the  old  fashion  of  introducing  intoxicating  drinks 
for  conviviality  in  social  entertainments  is  reviving.  Partly 
this  may  be  a  natural  reaction  against  the  attempt  to  propagate 
extreme  opinions,  and  to  enforce  them  by  denunciation  ;  but  in 
no  small  part  it  le  the  result  of  ill  advised  and  impracticable 
legislation.  One  consequence  of  the  latest  law  enacted  in  this 
State  against  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors,  was  the  establish- 
ment of  private  club-rooms,  where  young  men— and  some  who 
are  not  young — train  themselves  and  each  other  into  habits  of 
intemperate  drinking.  I  could  tell  yon  of  one  such  club — 
what    it-   chosen    name    is,   I  do  not  know,  but    I    could  tell  yon 


FORTY    YEARS    IX    OTHER    RELATIONS.  93 

where  it>  rooms  are — a  club,  some  of  whose  members  have 
died  already  of  the  habits  which  they  funned  or  indulged  and 
strengthened  in  those  secret  apartments,  while  others,  warned 
in  vain  by  what  they  have  seen,  are  going  on  to  the  same  fate. 
The  history  of  the  temperance-reformation  in  its  origin  and 
progress,  and  in  it-  lasting  success,  is  full  of  encouragement, 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  history  of  its  reactions  and  declen- 
sions is  full  of  admonition. 

II.  Let  as  now  look  beyond  our  immediate  neighborhood, 
and  think  of  our  relations  to  the  cowil/ry  at  large..  The  New 
CJew  England  Churches  have  always  been  characterized  by  a 
patriotic  Bpirit.  When  the  English  exile-  at  Leyden  passed 
over  to  America  and  commenced  their  settlement  at  Ply- 
mouth, there  was  planted,  on  "the  wild  New  England  shore." 
the  seed  not  only  of  a  Christian  civilization,  but  of  a  nation- 
ality distinct  from  that  of  the  English  people.  That  seed, 
planted  in  weakness,  might  have  been  trodden  down  and  des- 
troyed :  but  when  the  Pilgrims  were  followed  across  the 
Atlantic  by  the  greal  Puritan  migration  from  old  England  : 
when  the  town-  on  Massachusetts  Bay,  and  the  town-  on  Con- 
necticut ri\er.  and  then  the  confederate  towns  of  the  New 
Haven  jurisdiction,  came  into  being  as  political  communities 
Bharing  in  the  life  and  molded  by  the  power  of  that  religious 
politv  which  English  monarchy  and  English  aristocracy  would 
not  tolerate;    it    became   certain    that    then-  was   to    lie    here,  in 

the  fullness  of  time,  a  nation  not  simply  English  but  Anglo- 
American,  a  nation  with  it-  own  distinctive  character  and  life. 
Most  naturally,  therefore,  the  churches  of  the  New  England 
polity  have  been  characterized,  through  all  their  history,  l>\  a 
patriotic  sympathy  with  the  growth  and  welfare  of  this  greal 
Anglo-American  nation:  and  looking  hack,  a-  we  do,  on  this 
-ion.  to  a  date  jii-t  five  day-  after  the  inauguration  of 
John  Quincy  Adam-,  it  i-  natural  for  us  to  a-l<  what  changes 
these  forty  years  have  wroughl  in  our  country,  and  in  the 
Christian  work  which  the  churches  have  been  doing  and  are 
yd  to  do  for  the  nation. 

Forty  years  ago  tin-  United  State-  were  twenty  four  in  num- 
ber; now  they  are  thirty-six.  Then  onlj  one  State  had  been 
established    beyond    the     \Ii--i--ippi  ;    now    there    are    three 

K 


94  LEON  WD    HA<  "V 

beyond  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Then,  in  the  fifth  year  after 
the  census  of  L820,  the  population  of  the  United  States  was 
estimated  at  eleven  millions;  now,  in  the  fifth  year  after  the 
census  of  L860,  it  cannot  well  be  estimated  at  much  less  than 
thirty-five  millions.  Such  are  some  of  the  most  obvious 
changes  which  our  country  has  undergone  since  I  began  my 
work— -changes  which  mark  and  measure  the  steady  progress  of 
the  nation  in  material  greatness. 

In  thi>  connection  we  cannot  lmt  remember  that,  forty  years 
ago,  there  were  in  the  United  States  about  one  million  and 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  slaves,  and  that  the  census  of 
1 860  gave  the  number  at  a  little  less  than  four  millions.  When 
I  began  my  work  in  this  place,  the  country  had  recently  been 
agitated  by  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  secure  the  abolition  of 
slavery  in  Missouri  before  the  admission  of  that  State  into  the 
Union.  At  that  time,  the  religious  feeling  of  the  country  was 
strongly,  and,  I  may  say,  unanimously  pronounced  against  the 
institution  of  slavery.  Religious  men,  even  in  the  slave-hold- 
ing States,  professed  to  regard  that  institution  as  an  evil  which 
was  to  be  endured  till  it  could  be  peacefully  and  safely  abol- 
ished. Certainly  there  was,  in  Connecticut,  no  party,  religious 
or  political,  that  dared  to  speak  for  slavery  as  if  it  were  a  just 
or  beneficent  arrangement,  or  as  if  the  institution  was  capable 
of  any  defense,  either  on  grounds  of  natural  justice,  or  In  the 
light  of  the  Christian  religion.  Slavery  and  the  internal  com- 
merce in  slaves  were  then  regarded  as  "■  the  peculiar  institution  " 
of  those  State-  in  which  they  were  legalized;  and  the  idea  that 
the  Constitution  of  the  Union  had  made  slavery  national,  and 
had  given  it  a  right  to  propagate  itself  without  let  <>r  hindrance 
over  all  the  national  territory,  had  found  no  acceptance  here. 

M\  own  mind  had  been  deeply  interested  in  the  discussion 
of  slavery  as  related  to  the  future  of  our  country.  The  Mis- 
souri question  had  beensharply  debated  in  Congress  and  every- 
where else,  while  I  was  a  college-studenl  ;  and  by  religious 
writers  and  speakers  it  bad  been  discussed  as  a  question  involv- 
ing great  religious  interests.  In  the  progress  of  my  theological 
studies,  I  have  been  led  to  inquire  more  carefully  concerning 
the  duty  of  Christian  patriots  to  the  black  population  of  this 
country,  both  bond  and  i'rci\     From  the  beginning  of  my  offi- 


FORTY    VKA  RS    IN    OTHEB    RELATIONS.  95 

cial  iniiii>rrv.  I  -poke  without  reserve,  from  the  pulpit  and 
elsewhere,  against  slavery  as  a  wrong  and  a  curse,  threatening 
disaster  and  ruin  to  the  nation.  Many  years  I  did  this  without 
being  blamed,  except  as  I  was  blamed  for  notgoingfar  enough. 
\<>t  a  dog  dared  to  wag  his  tongue  at  me  for  speaking  against 
slavery.  I  have  always  held  and  always  asserted  the  same  prin- 
ciples on  That  subject  which  I  held  and  asserted  at  the  begin- 
ning. Yet  yon  know  how  I  have  been  blamed  and  even 
execrated,  in  these  later  years,  for  declaring,  here  and  else- 
where, the  wickedness  of  buying  and  selling  human  beings,  or 
of  violating  in  any  way  those  human  rights  which  are  insepar- 
able from  human  nature.  I  make  no  complaint  in  making  this 
allusion  :  all  reproaches,  all  insults  endured  in  the  conflict  with 
so  gigantic  a  wickedness  against  God  and  man,  are  to  be 
received  and  remembered  not  as  injuries  but  as  honors. 

Where  are  we  now'  The  institution  of  slavery,  so  powerful 
only  a  few  year-  ago.  so  arrogant  and  encroaching.  SO  deter- 
mined either  to  rule  the  Union  or  to  destroy  it.  is  perishing 
nnder  the  vials  of  God's  wrath  poured  out  upon  our  country. 
The  end  of  the  great  rebellion  which  was  begun  for  the  pur- 
pose of  making  Blavery  perpetual,  is  drawing  near,  and  it  is 
sure  to  be  the  end  of  slavery.  What  a  change  is  this!  I  have 
expected  and  predicted  that  slavery  would  be  abolished  in  our 
country,  knowing  assuredly  that  there  is  a  divine  justice  in 
the  providence  that  rules  the  world.  There  was  a  time  when  I 
hoped  for  a  peaceful  abolition  in  the  progress  of  civilization 
and  under  the  influence  of  Christianity  ;  but,  years  ago,  tin' 
ferocious  tyranny  that  permitted  no  word  of  discussion  or  of 
inquiry  tending  to  overthrow  the  system,  and  that  kept  the 
slaves  by  law  in  brutish  ignorance  bo  that  their  bondage  might 
be  perpetual,  forbade  that  hope.  For  years,  all  really  thought- 
ful men  have  felt  the  growing  probability  that  Blaverj  would 
end  in  blood.     Yei.  till  this  war  began,  we  never  thought  thai 

the    end    would    be    in    our    time.      That     1     have    lived    to    see 

Blavery  alreadj  virtually  abolished,  and  it>  complete  extinction 
drawing  nearer  .every  day,  till-  me  with  wonder. 

Somewhat  less  than  twenty  years  ago,  I  published  a  volume 
of  Essays  on  Slavery,  which  I  had  contributed  to  various  peri 

odicals.     A  copy  of  the  volume  tell  into  the  hand-  of  ;i  village 


96  I.KON  \|;|>    B  M  "V 

lawyer  in  one  of  our  great  western  States.  He  was  at  thai 
time  quite  unknown  to  fame,  bul  hi>  neighbors  knew  him  well 
as  an  intelligent,  sagacious,  honest  man.  capable  of  great  things 
and  worthy  of  the  highesl  trusts;  and  lie  had  just  then  been 
elected,  for  the  first  time  and  the  last,  to  be  their  representa 
tive  in  Congress.  Less  than  four  years  ago,  not  knowing  that 
he  had  ever  heard  of  me,  I  had  the  privilege  of  an  interview 
with  him;  and  his  tirst  word,  after  our  introduction  to  each 
other,  was  a  reference  to  that  volume,  with  a  frank  approval  of 
ii-  principles.  Since  then  I  have  heard  of  his  mentioning  the 
same  hook  to  a  friend  of  mine  in  terms  which  showed  that  it 
had   made  an  impression  on   Ins  earnest  and   thoughtful   soul. 

The  man  to  whom  I  refer  has  just  been  inaugurated,  the 
second  time.  President  of  the  Tinted  States  ;  and  his  illus- 
trious name  is  forever  associated  with  the  proclamation  winch 
sealed  the  doom  of  slavery.  I  am  not  vain  enough  to  think 
that  his  great  mind,  so  earnest  in  the  love  of  justice,  so  confi- 
dent in  the  conviction  that  right  must  finally  prevail  against 
wrong,  so  far-seeing  in  the  discernment  of  principles  and  their 
bearings,  needed  any  guidance  or  teaching  from  me;  but  it  is 
something  to  think  of  in  this  review  of  forty  years,  that  when 
ABRAHAM  Lincoln,  nineteen  years  ago,  first  found  himself, 
as  an  elected  representative  in  Congress,  face  to  face  with 
slavery  in  its  relation  to  questions  of  practical  statesmanship, 
the  studies  and  debates  through  which  I  had  been  conducted 
were  in  any  way  serviceable  to  him. 

As  we  think  of  the  new  aspect  which  the  abolition  of 
Blavery,  now  almost  complete,  gives  to  the  future  of  our  coun- 
try, the  home-missionary  work  of  the  American  churches 
arrests  our  attention.  It  was  in  the  year  L825  that  consulta- 
tions were  held,  and  arrangements  made,  which  resulted  in  the 
institution  of  the  American  Home  Missionary  Society.  That 
organization  was  formed  with  the  design  of  combining  in  one 
system  of  cooperative  efforts  the  strength  of  the  entire  Presby- 
terian body,  and  of  some  other  ecclesiastical  connections,  as 
well  as  of  the  New  England  churches.  At  first  the  design  of 
cooperation  was  in  some  degree  realized;  but.  gradually,  the 
contributing  churches  of  other  denominations  and  connections 
have  fallen   off  and   entered  into  separate  enterprises,  till  now 


FORTY  YEAES  IX  OTHER  RELATIONS.  !»7 

the  institution  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  any  supporters  save 
the  Congregational  churches  in  New  England,  and  those  that 
have  sprung  up  in  New  York  and  the  West.  How  great  the 
home-missionary  work  in  the  United  States  has  become,  and 
what  hold  it  lias  upon  the  Christian  patriotism  of  the  country, 
I  need  not  undertake  to  show  statistically.  Aside  from  all 
that  is  done  by  the  two  great  bodies  of  Presbyterians,  and  by 
the  churches  which  trace  their  descent  from  Holland,  and  by 
other  excellent  and  powerful  confederations  of  churches  more 
remotely  related  to  us,  the  work  of  the  American  Home  Mis- 
sionary Society,  in  the  area  which  it  covers,  in  the  contribu- 
tions to  it-  treasury,  in  the  number  of  its  missionaries,  and  in 
the  Buccess  which  it  has  achieved  and  is  still  achieving,  far 
exceeds  all  that  we  thought  of  forty  years  ago.  Its  mission- 
aries, are.  to-day,  not  onlv  in  all  the  States  of  what  we  then 
called  "the  West" — Dot  only  in  all  the  regions  of  that  "val- 
ley of  the  Mississippi"  which  so  tilled  our  imagination  thirty 
years  ago — hut  far  beyond,  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  by  the 
Great  Salt  Lake,  and  amid  the  strange  confluences  of  popula- 
tion that  are  developing  the  resources  of  our  Pacific  State-. 

But  home-missions  in  the  strictest  -ense  are  only  a  part  of 
the  evangelization-work  in  our  home-field.  In  the  larger 
Bense,  all  the  organizations  which  are  at  work  for  the  diffusion 
of  religious  knowledge,  or  for  securing  in  the  new  State-  and 
Territories  the  institutions  of  Christian  Learning  and  educa- 
tion, are  cooperating  in  the  home-missionary  work.  Forty 
years  ago.  the  American   Bible  Society  had  not  entered  on  the 

tenth  year  of  it-  existence.  Forty  years  ago.  the  American 
Tract    Society  at     Boston    had    been    working    in  a  humble  way 

about  eleven  year-;   and   jn-t  at  the  time  when  I  was  beginning 

my  official  ministry  here,  a  few  good  men  of  various  ecclesias- 
tical connection-  were  instituting  in  the  city  of  New  York 
another  American  Tract  Society  much  more  aspiring  in  it- 
aim-.  Forty  years  ago,  the  American  Sunday  School  Union 
wa-  making  it-  earliesl  appeals  to  the  public.  Forty  years 
ago,  oobody  had  dreamed  of  any  bucd  thing  as  a  systematized 

effort  on  the  part  of  (   hri-tian  patriots  in  these  older  States  for 

promoting  collegiate  ami  theological  education  at  the  West,  h\ 

aiding    in    the    foundation    and    early    support    of    colleges   and 


'.,s  I  ,EON  \  RD    H  \«'<  >N. 

theological  seminaries  like  those  of  our  own  New  England, 
rhese  suggestions  tnaj  help  the  young  to  understand,  in  part, 
what  changes  some  of  ue  have  Been  since  the  time  when  we 
were  young.  You  whose  years  are  yel  before  you,  think  how 
great  a  system  of  voluntary  enterprises,  for  giving  to  our 
country  ;i  thoroughly  Christian  civilization,  we  have  seen  grow- 
ing up  in  our  day.  We  are  Boon  to  leave  in  your  hands  the 
beneficent  undertakings  which  we  have  helped  to  inaugurate, 
or  iu  which  it  has  been  our  privilege  to  cooperate,  and  we  hid 
you  remember  that,  with  all  their  efficiency,  they  are  not  yet 
commensurate  with  the  work  of  making  our  country  what  it 
ought  to  be. 

Think  of  the  new  era  which  is  to  open  upon  us  when  this 
war  shall  he  ended.  With  slavery  overthrown,  and  the  unity 
of  the  nation  recovered  and  vindicated,  the  millions,  black  and 
white,  whom  slavery  has  kept  in  a  barbarous  or  half  barbarous 
ignorance,  will  have  become  in  reality,  and  not  in  name  only. 
our  countrymen,  to  be  enlightened  and  elevated  by  Christian 
influences.  Thenceforth  the  necessity  of  guarding  the  institu- 
tion of  slavery  by  laws  against  teaching  men  to  read,  and  by 
the  violent  suppression  of  dangerous  truth,  will  have  no  place 
in  any  State  or  Territory  of  the  Union,  hut  our  whole  country, 
in  it>  imperial  extent,  will  he  open  to  that  U-i-i-  gospel  which 
proclaims  that  God  hath  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men. 
and  which  demands  for  all  men  "the  Bible  without  a  clasp," 
ami  therefore  demands  and  establishes  the  free  schools  in 
which  all  children  alike  may  learn  to  read  the  Bible  for  them- 
selves. A  great  work  of  evangelization  must  he  done  for  our 
country  within  the  next  twenty  year.-.  All  that  has  been  done 
in  these  forty  years  is  only,  as  it  were,  a  preparation  and  a 
beginning.  God,  who  has  trained  us  tor  tin-  work,  and  has 
encouraged  and  strengthened  us  by  giving  success,  is  now  open- 
ing the  way  and  calling  us  forward  to  a  glorious  consummation. 
III.  Our  remembrance  of  the  period  which  we  are  reviewing 
will  not  he  complete  unless  we  take  a  still  wider  view. 
Through  all  the  course  of  these  forty  years,  changes  have  heen 
steadily  and  rapidly  going  on.  that  have  great  importance  in 
relatii  »n  to  th<  ,j,  ,,>  ral  mtt  r<  *t  and  progn  88  of  ( 'hrisfs  Jcingdorn 
in  the  world.     I  do  not  refer  to  war-  and  political   revolutions, 


FORTY    YEARS    IN    OTHER    RELATIONS.  99 

so  much  as  to  changes  of  another  sort.  The  period  has  been 
characterized  more  by  the  peaceful  progress  of  civilized  nations 
than  by  great  wars  among  them  :  and,  though  there  have  been 
changes  of  dynasty  and  of  empire — .some  of  them  very  signifi- 
cant— the  political  map  of  Europe  at  least  remains,  on  the 
whole,  very  much  a>  it  was  in  1825.  But,  all  this  while, 
great  forces  have  been  working  t<>  change  the  character  and 
condition  of  the  world. 

We  have  often  marveled  at  the  increase  of  human  knowl- 
edge, and  especially  of  that  knowledge  by  which  man  obtains 
dominion  over  material  nature  :  but  the  general  diffusion  of 
knowledge  i>.  in  some  respects  even  more  significant.  The 
apparatus  and  arrangements  by  which  knowledge — and,  to  a 
great  extent,  knowledge  really  useful — spreads  itself  abroad. 
the  demand  creating  the  supply,  and  the  supply  ever  stimula- 
ting the  demand,  is  among  the  wonders  of  modern  civilization. 
Think  what  the  art  of  printing  has  become  in  its  relation  to 
the  millions.  Think  of  journalism,  in  its  range  of  subjects, 
scientific,  literary,  political,  religions, — in  the  diversity  of  its 
periods,  quarterly,  monthly,  weekly,  daily. — and  with  its  count- 
less pages  falling  everywhere,  like  autumn-leaves  in  a  forest. 
Think  what  popular  education  has  become,  not  satisfied  with 
teaching  children  to  read  and  write,  but  aiming  to  give  sub- 
stantial knowledge,  with  something  of  intellectual  and  moral 
discipline.  Doubtless  such  diffusion  of  knowledge  is  more 
general  in  our  country  than  elsewhere;  but  in  almost  ever^ 
country  <»f  the  civilized  world,  certainly  in  every  Protestant 
country,  there  is  the  same  sort  of  progress. 

Another  significant  fact  is  naturally  connected  with  the  in- 
crease and  diffusion  of  knowledge.  The  mutual  influence  of 
all  civilized  communities  is  constantly  increasing.  Fortj  years 
is  and  mountains  l>\  which  nation.-  are  separated 
from  each  other,  and  -till  more  the  diversities  of  language 
and  of  political  and  religious  institutions,  were  far  more  effect 
ual  a-  barriers  against  international  influence  and  international 
sympathy  than  they  now  are,  or  r\<-v  can  be  again.  Even  civ- 
ilized nation  is  now  in  contact,  as  it  were,  with  c\\tx  other. 
Not  only  do  the  scientific  discoveries  and  inventions  of  one 
country  pass  oul  a1  once  into  all  countries,  and  become  the  com- 


LEONARD    B  U'ON. 


mon  property  of  civilized  mankind;  bu1  the  hooks  which  in 
one  language  charm  or  agitate  the  popular  mind,  are  translated 
into  other  languages,  or  without  translation  extend  their  influ- 
ence into  other  lands.     Nol   popular  literature  only,  but  phi- 

losoplry  also,  lea  i-i  is,  more  than  hereto  lore,  to  litter  itself  in  vari- 
ous languages.  The  thinking  of  Germany  passes  over  into 
Britain  and  America  ;  and  the  thinking  of  English-speaking 
nations  reacts  upon  Germany.  With  the  increase  of  facilities 
for  travel  in  these  years  of  peace  and  commerce,  every  nation 
comes  more  and  more  into  contact  with  other  nations  hv  means 
..f  personal  communication.  Travelers  and  tourists  of  all  sort.-, 
seekers  of  knowledge  and  seekers  of  pleasure,  are  going  abroad 
into  all  lands,  BOJOUrning  here  and  there  for  a  season,  and  then 
returning  home.  Great  tides  of  emigration  are  setting  from 
various  nations  of  the  old  world  to  our  shores;  and  then,  by 
international  postage  and  ocean-steamers,  those  Americanized 
myriads  keep  up  a  constant  interchange  of  influence  between 
the  land  of  their  new  hopes  and  homes  and  thelandsfrom  which 
they  came.  Among  all  the  nations  of  the  civilized  world,  and 
especially  among  those  of  Protestant  Christendom,  there  is  a 
growing  consciousness  of  more  intimate  relations  to  each  other 
and  of  interest  in  each  other's  welfare.  Perhaps  no  man  who 
does  not  personally  remember  the  time  when  there  were  no 
railways  and  no  sea-going  steamships  to  facilitate  and  stimulate 
international  communication,  and  when  the  magnetic  telegraph 
had  not  yet  been  invented,  can  fairly  understand  how  great  a 
change  has  come  to  pass  in  the  intercourse  of  nations,  in  their 
knowledge  of  each  other's  affairs,  and  in  their  mutual  influence. 
One  marked  consequence  of  all  this,  is  an  increased  acquaint- 
ance and  a  more  intimate  fellow-hip  among  the  Protestant 
Christians  of  different  aations  and  languages.  There  is  begin- 
aing  to  he  visible  a  reformed  and  evangelical  catholicity,  ex- 
tending  through  all  nations,  and  everywhere  conscious  of  a 
living  unity.  Evangelical  Christian-  every  where  are  becoming 
assimilated  in  their  religious  views  and  teachings,  and  thus 
they  are  obtaining  larger  and  more  adequate  conceptions  of 
what  the  Christianity  is  which  they  hold  in  common,  and  which 
they  uphold  against  superstition  and  spiritual  despotism  on  the 
one  hand,  and  against  infidelity  and  destructive  rationalism  on 
the    other.      There    i-    indeed    no   "gift    of   tongues"    like    that 


FOETY    YEARS    IN    OTHEB    RELATIONS.  101 

which  attested  the  first  glorious  coming  of  the  Comforter;  Imt 
Christian  sympathies  are  awakened  which  utter  themselves, 
praying  and  praisingGod,  in  all  the  languages  of  the  civilized 
world,  and  which  pass  from  land  to  land,  and  traverse  oceans, 
with  greetings  of  brotherly  affection.  "We  see  not  indeed — 
nor  Deed  we  desire  to  see— a  corporate  unity  under  one  ecclesi- 
astical tjovernment  ;  hut  we  see  what  is  better,  a  spiritual 
unitv  of  aspiration  and  of  voluntary  cooperation  for  the  ad- 
vancement of  that  kingdom  which  i-  "  righteousness,  and  peace, 
and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost."  A  few  years  ago,  it  was  my  priv- 
ilege to  be  present,  for  many  days,  in  a  u'reat  assenihly  at  Lon- 
don, where  representatives  not  only  from  Great  Britain  and 
Ireland  and  from  the  Omted  States,  hut  from  Germany, 
from  France,  from  Holland,  from  Switzerland,  from  Scandina- 
vian countries,  from  the  Protestantism  of  Italy,  and  from  1 
know  not  how  many  other  countries,  were  reporting  to  each 
other  concerning  the  Bigns  of  the  times,  and  deliberating  on 
plans  of  more  extended  cooperation,  and  praying  together  for 
the  universal  coming  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  The  great 
assembly  was  itself  a  "  sign  of  the  time.-" — an  effective  manifes- 
tation not  only  of  the  progress  which  spiritual  Christianity,  as 
distinguished  both  from  formalism  and  from  unbelieving 
rationalism,  is  making  in  the  world,  hut  also  of  the  vital  unitv 
and  free  cooperation  which  are  bringing  into  conscious  fellow- 
ship the  growing  multitude  of  believers  in  whose  conception 
and  experience  the  Gospel  i-  '"the  power  of  God  unto  salva- 
tion."' Forty  year-  ago  such  an  assembly  could  not  have 
been;  and  yet,  so  greal   is  the  change,  that  assembly,    though 

the  first  of   it-  kind,  was  only  tir.-t   in  a  serie8. 

While  these  changes  have  been  in  progress,  breaking  down 

bo  man\  "I'  the  barriers  between  nations,  and  bringing  evan- 
gelical   Christians   of  all    names   ami    languages   and    nations 

nearer  to  each  other   in  thought  and    sympathy,  and    in  cooper 

ation,  the  principle  of  religions  liberty  ha-  been  gradually 
working  itself  into  the  public  opinion  of  the  civilized  world, 
and  into  the  law- and  governraenl  of  various  nations.  Forty 
pears  ago,  in  England  itself,  conscientious  dissenters  from  the 
established  state-religion,  whether  Protestants  or  Roman  Cath 
olics,  were  subjected  nol  indeed  to  positive  persecution  on 
account  of  their  religion,  hut   to  man\  civil  disabilities  which 


102  LEON  \  Kl>    BACON. 

are  now  allium!  forgotten.  What  progress  freedom  to  worship 
(■rod — freedom  t<>  read  the  1 1 i  1  >U*  freedom  to  preach  the  Gob 
pel  has  made,  within  these  forty  years,  in  Prance  and  other 
European  countries,  nut  excepting  Italy,  nay,  in  realms  beyond 
tin'  l>»>nn<ls  nf  ( Jhristendom,  I  need  not  now  describe.  The 
change,  in  this  respect,  demonstrates  that  the  nations  arc 
already  at  the  threshold,  as  it  were,  of  a  new  era,  when 
truth  shall  everywhere  be  free  in  tin-  conflict  with  error,  ami 
throughout  the  world  the  emancipating  and  renewing  word  of 
(  rod  >hall  run  without  hindrance. 

Let  us,  then,  not  forget  what  it  is  which  gives  the  chief  dis- 
tinction to  this  nineteenth  century, — namely,  the  great  move- 
ment for  the  propagation  of  the  Gospel  through  the  world. 
We  who  arc  growing  old  have  seen  great  things  in  our  day. 
Looking  hack  over  these  forty  years,  with  thoughtful  view, 
and  recollecting  how  much  of  all  my  mortal  life  has  been 
measured  out  to  me.  I  cannot  hut  thank  God  that  I  have  lived 
in  an  age  SO  full  of  zeal  and  enterprise  in  the  work  of  preach- 
ing the  Gospel  to  every  creature.  The  modern  era  of  evan- 
gelical  missions  to  heathen  nations  may  he  marked  as  begin- 
ning near  the  close  of  the  last  century,  when  the  religious 
awakenings  of  that  century — the  standard  which  the  Spirit  of 
the  Lord  set  up  against  the  unbelief  and  atheism  that  were 
coming  in  like  a  flood-  had  prepared  a  people  for  the  work. 
Forty  vears  ago,  the  chief  evangelizing  institutions  through 
which  the  missionary  zeal  of  Great  Britain  and  America  is 
now  putting  itself  forth  in  all  directions, — the  great  Bible  ami 
Missionary  Bocieties, — were  already  established ;  hut  the  work 
was  only  begun.  Much  had  been  accomplished  of  preliminary 
labor;  the  field  had  been  wideK  explored,  Languages  had  been 
mastered,  missions  had  been  commenced  in  many  heathen 
lands,  translations  of  the  Bible  had  keen  made  with  \arious 
degrees  of  accuracy,  wisdom  had  keen  acquired  by  experience; 
and  there  had  been  just  enough  of  success  to  forbid  discour- 
agement. Hut  what  progress  have  we  seen  within  these  forty 
pears!  What  do  we  see  to-day  \  The  isles  arc  receiving  God's 
law.  Africa,  on  the  eastern  coast  and  on  the  western,  is  bright- 
ening with  the  light  <>f  the  sun  of  righteousness.  The  hoary 
idolatries  of  India  are  losing  their  power;  and  converts  to 
Christ  in  that  land  of  immemorial  darkness,  are  numbered  by 


FORTY    YEARS    FN    OTHEB    RELATIONS.  L03 

tens  of  thousands.  In  Turkey  and  Syria,  God's  blessing  upon 
Protestant  missions  has  achieved  freedom  for  the  Gospel :  and, 
QOt  only  there  but  in  Persia,  the  Gospel  is  demonstrating  its 

power  to  make  all  things  new.  In  China,  the  missionaries 
from  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  are  working  together,  and,  in 
the  churches  they  have  gathered  and  the  steady  progress  of  the 
truth,  they  see  that  their  long  labor  is  not  in  vain  the  Lord. 
The  darkness  of  the  entire  world  of  heathenism  is  dotted  over 
with  radiant  points  of  Christian  influence;  and  the  free  contri- 
butions of  Christ's  disciples  in  all  lands,  and  of  all  names,  are 
poured  forth  in  a  volume  ever  swelling  with  the  progress  of 
the  years,  and  are  accompanied  with  prayers  and  aspirations 
which  give  assurance  of  ever  growing  success.  Let  the  work 
go  forward  at  the  same  rate  of  progress  and  development 
through  another  period  of  forty  years;  and  then — in  the  fifth 
year  of  the  twentieth  century — how  changed  will  he  the  aspect 
of  this  long  benighted  world!  In  all  probability,  there  will 
even  then  be  vast  tracts  of  heathenism:  wickedness  may  still 
he  hold  and  blasphemous  in  Christian  lands;  the  saints  of 
God  may  still  be  crying  to  him:  "  ( ).  Lord,  how  long?" — hut 
the  evangelization  of  the  world,  the  work  which  the  world's 
Redeemer  has  laid  upon  his  church,  will  he  far  in  advance  of 
where  it  now  is.  Some  of  you  (we  know  not  who  they  are) 
will  see  that  day:  hut  the  great  majority  of  ns,  before  the 
beginning  of  that  twentieth  century,  will  have  ceased  to  have 
any  share 

■■  In  :ill  that's  done 
■■  Beneath  the  circuit  of  the  bud  :" 

and   I   might  now   count  olf  name  after  name  of   those  who  will 

surely  lie  in  thai  majority. 

I  am  >ure  io  l»e  iii  that  majority,  tor  "  I  know  that  shortly," 
;it  the  latest,  "I  musl  put  oil'  tin-  mv  tabernacle."  Hm  I 
charge  you  whom  1  -hall  leave  behind  me.  to  be  faithful  and 
constant  in  this  work  of  spreading  through  the  world  the 
knowledge  ami  kingdom  of  Christ.  So  Ion-  as  "Thy  king 
dom  come"  is  on  your  lip-,  let  it  never  he  an  empty  phrase; 
let  it  never  be  anything  less  than  the  breathing  of  faith  and 
earnest  hope,  and  the  consecration  of  your  free  offeringH  and 
your  personal  Bervice  a-  "fellow-workers  unto  the  kingdom  of 
God'1     fellow-workers  with  those  who  have  rested   from  their 


104  LEON  \  i:i>    BACON. 

labors,  and  fellow-workers  with  those  who  skill  conic  after 
you.  So  shall  you  share  in  the  triumphal  foy,  when  heaven 
shall  shout  i"  earth,  ami  earth  respond  to  heaven:  "The  king- 
doms  OF    THIS    WORLD    A  UK    BECOME    THE    KINGDOMS   OF   OUR 

Lord." 

My  dear  friends,  of  this  Church  and  Ecclesiastical  Society,  I 
have  QOW  ;i  few  words  more  to  say,  of  deep  interest  to  myself 
and  to  you. 

I  am  the  oldest  pastor  in  Connecticut,  who  has  not,  partly  or 
wholly,  withdrawn  from  his  work. 

The  last  ten  years  in  a  pastorale  of  half  a  century  are  neces- 
sarily years  of  diminished  vigor  and  of  diminishing  success  in 
the  work  of  the  ministry. 

T  am  old  enough,  now,  to  ask  for  relief;  and  at  the  same 
time  I  am  not  too  old  to  receive  it  without  feeling  that  I  am 
slighted  by  the  offer  of  it. 

Not  for  my  own  sake  merely,  but  rather  for  your  sake  and 
your  children's  sake.  I  ask  you  now  to  relieve  me  while  I  am 

willing  to  be  relieved.     All  that   concerns  the  i le  <>r  extent 

of  the  relief,  I  would  refer  to  your  kindness  and  discretion. 
On  that  point  1  have  only  to  say:  Give  me  either  a  colleague, 
or  (if  such  he  your  judgment)  a  successor.  1  do  not  ask  for  an 
associate,  one  who  shall  help  me,  and  for  whom  I  must  he  in 
some  sort  responsible.  I  ask  rather  for  one  who  shall  take 
charge  of  the  flock,  and  he  responsible  for  it,  and  whom  I  may 
help  only  as  he  may  ask  for  assistance  in  the  first  few  years  of 
his  work. 

I  am  able  to  work,  and  may  he  able,  perhaps,  for  ten  years 
more.  While  I  am  still  at  your  service  in  the  work  which  I 
have  so  long  performed  among  you,  I  trust  I  can  find  other 
work  to  do  which  will  contribute  to  my  support.  1  do  not  ask 
to  become  a  burthen  on  you.  I  am  willing  to  work  while  it  is 
day.  I  only  remember,  and  for  your  sake  I  remind  you,  that 
to  me  the  day  is  far  -pent,  and  the  night  is  coming  when  no 
man  can  work  :   and  so  I   leave  the  matter  in  your  hands. 

"The  Lord  bless  you  and  keep  you:  the  Lord  make  Ids  face 
shine  upon  you.  ami  be  gracious  onto  you:  the  Lord  lift  up  Ids 
countenance  upon  you,  and  give  you  peace." 


SERMON 

Fkeached  on  Retiring  from  the  Pastorate. 


THE  PASTOR  RETIRING   FROM   HIS  OFFICIAL 

WORK. 

Preached  September  9,  1866. 
Acts  xx.  32. — And  now,  Breturex,  I  commend   vor  to  God,    \m>  to  the 

W.iHH  OF    HIS   QBAOE,    WHICH    IS    vHI.K    TO    BUILD    Ynr    DP,    AMD   TO   GIVE    Yor    AN 
INHERITANCE    AMONG     ILL  THEM    Wiihii     LBE  SANOTQTED. 

Few  things  in  the  history  of  Paul  the  Apostle  are  more 
characteristic  of  the  man,  or  of  the  gospel  which  he  preached, 
than  this  discourse  of  his  to  the  officers  of  the  Ephesian  church, 
when  they  had  come  down,  at  his  invitation,  to  meet  him  at 
Miletn-,  and  there  to  pari  with  him.  The  discourse,  in  all  that 
he  Bays  to  them  about  their  official  work  and  responsibility,  in 
all  thai  hesaysaboul  himself ,  and  in,  all  that  he  says  aboul 
approaching  conflict.-  with  evil,  i-  a  Lesson  to  churches  and  min- 
isters through  all  time. 

Reading  this  discourse,  we  can  hardly  fail  to  observe  how 
freely  and  aaturally  he  speaks  of  himself,  in  the  firsl  person, 
and  of  his  ministry.  Be  was  speaking  to  friends  to  old  and 
trie. |  friends  in  circumstances  which  required  him  to  speak  in 
that  way.  To  speak  otherwise,  on  that  occasion,  would  have 
Keen  affectation,  and  he  would  have  failed  to  say  the  tit  and 
timely  word-,  had  he  been  embarrassed  l>.\  the  fear  of  exposing 


106  LE<  >\  \i;i'   B  \< ■<  »N. 

himself  in  the  imputation  of  egotism.  II  I  speak  of  myself 
this  afternoon,  le1  the  occasion  be  my  apology. 

An  official  ministry  of  forty-one  years  and  a  half,  in  this 
ancienl  church,  is  now  to  be  ended.  On  the  firsl  Lord's  Day 
in  tlu'  nexl  month,  forty-two  years  will  bave  been  completed 
since  the  firsl  occasion  on  which  I  K *« I  the  worship  of  God  in 
this  bouse,  and  attempted  to  dispense  the  word  of  life.  It 
would  be  injustice  to  your  feelings  and  my  own,  if  I  should 
retire  from  my  official  work  among  yon  without  some  serious 
and   affectionate  words  appropriate  to  the  occasion.     For  this 

purpose  DO  Wetter  arrangement  of  topics  occurs  to  me  than  that 

which  the  Apostle  followed  in  his  address  to  the  Ephesian 
elders. 

1.  He  appeals  to  their  knowledge  of  himself.  "Ye  your- 
selves know,  from  the  first  day  that  I  came  into  Asia,  alter 
what  manner  I  bave  been  with  you  at  all  seasons."  So  I  may 
saw  you  know  the  course  and  character  of  my  ministry  among 
you  from  its  beginning.  But  to  how  few  of  you  can  I  say  this 
literally  and  personally  !  Where  are  the  men  and  women  that 
knew  the  beginning  of  my  service  here  '.  I  look  along  this 
aisle — and  that — and  that  ;  and  how  few  are  there  to  whom,  as 
individuals.  I  can  say  :  You  personally  know,  from  the  first 
day  that  I  stood  here  to  preach  the  gospel,  after  what  manner  I 
have  been  with  you  at  all  seasons!  Some  such  there  are  who 
are  older  than  myself,  and  others  who  have  grown  old  with  me  ; 
and  I  thank  God  that  everyone  of  them  is  my  dear  friend 
to-day,  esteeming  me  \rr\  highly  in  love — not  surely  for  my 
own  sake,  as  if  I  deserved  it.  but  rer  my  work's  sake.  The 
great  majority  of  those  who  are  now  adults  in  the  parish,  were 
children,  or  were  not  yet  horn,  when  I  began  the  work  which  I 
resign  to-day.  Vet  I  may  Bay  to  them,  as  well  as  to  the  few 
who  are  of  my  own  age,  or  older — to  the  congregation  as  a 
whole  I  may  say — to  all  the  churches  of  Christ  in  this  city  I 
may  say — to  the  entire  community  of  those  around  us  who 
take  any  interest  in  the  ministry  of  the  gospel,  I  may  say:  Ye 
know  after  what  manner  I  have  been  among  you  at  all  times. 

It  is  a  serious  thought  to  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  and  espe- 
cially To  the  pa-tor  of  a  church,  that  SO  many  people  know  him, 
and  know  after  what  manner  he  is  doing  his  work,  or  ha>  done 


RETIRING    FROM    HIS    OFFICIAL    WORK.  107 

it.  Hi-  work  is  essentially  public — he  is  always  under  inspec- 
tion and  criticism.  Others  may  seek  retirement,  and  love  to 
dwell  in  the  shade  ;  bnt  he  ha>  no  privilege  of  that  sort,  what- 
ever  his  inclination  may  be.  Eis  gifts,  his  merits,  and  nor 
these  only,  but  Ins  faults,  his  mistakes,  Ins  infirmities,  his  pro- 
fessional habits,  his  personal  peculiarities,  his  infelicities  of 
manner  or  deportment,  belong  in  some  degree  to  the  public. 
Everybody  in  the  parish  knows  all  about  him  ;  and  what  the 
whole  parish  knows,  everybody  else  knows.  Everybody  has  a 
right — more  or  less  clearly  recognized — to  talk  about  him.  and 
to  give  an  opinion  for  or  against  him.  whatever  he  does,  or 
whatever  he  neglects  or  refuses  to  do.  All  this  is  an  inevitable 
incident  of  his  position.  He  must  hear  this  yoke  in  his  youth  ; 
and  if  he  live-  long  enough  he  must  hear  it  till  he  i>  old.  lie 
cannot  look  upon  his  congregated  hearers — he  cannot  meet  his 
neighbors  in  any  relation  —  without  the  thought:  Tliev  all 
know  after  what  manner  1  am  with  them  at  all  seasons: — -if  I 
am  faithful,  the  ineffaceable  record  of  my  fidelity  is  in  their 
consciences  :  if  I  am  unfaithful,  they  are  witnesses  against  me. 
II.  The  Apostle,  in  thus  appealing  to  their  personal  mem- 
ory, remind-  them  more  distinctly  of  what  he  had  done  in  that 
church,  and  of  what  he  had  experienced  there.  "  Ye  know 
after  what  manner  1  have  been  with  you — Berving  the  Lord 
with  all  humility  of  mind,  and  with  many  tears  and  tempta- 
tion- which  came  upon  me  by  the  plotting-  of  the  dews—  how 
I  kept  hack  nothing  that  was  profitable  unto  you.  but  have 
showed  you  and  taught  you  publicly,  and  from  house  to  house. 
testifying,  both  to  the  Jews  and  also  to  the  Greeks,  repentance 

toward  God,  and  faith  toward  our    Lord  ,le>u>  Christ."      1  dare 

not  Bay  so  much  as  rhi.-.  Yet,  appealing  to  yon  who  know 
after  what  manner  I  have  been  with  you,  I  max  -ax  that,  if  I  know 
myself,  I  have  been  endeavoring,  through  all  the  days  of  this 
ministry,  to  serve  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Sure  I  am  that,  if 
I  have  served  Christ  at  all,  I  have  served  him  with  a  constant 
sense  of  imperfection  and  unfitness  for  so  arduous  a  work.  I 
have   loved   the  work  of   preaching  the  gospel  and  showing  to 

men  the  wax    of    -alxatioii  ;     1    loxeit     -till;    I    hope    Iodic    in  it  ; 

hut  < >.  how  far  have  I  come  shorl  of  setting  forth,  as  it  always 
seemed  to  me  I  mighl  do,  and  oughl  to  do,  the  reaHonableness, 


108  l  I  o\  \i;n    it  \C(>\. 

the  attractiveness,  the  beauty,  the  glorj  uf  thai  gospel !  As  for 
the  " humility  of  mind "  which  the  Apostle  speaks  of ,  I  think 
I  know  what  il  is.  nol  « >  1 1 1  n  in  thai  consciousness  of  moral  im- 
perfection in  the  sight  of  <>'>d  which  attends  all  the  progress  of 
the  Christian  life,  bul  also  in  the  consciousness  of  personal 
incompetence  to  bo  greal  a  work.  I  love  to  preach,  l»ut  if  any- 
body lias  at  any  time  been  dissatisfied  with  my  preaching,  and 
has  fell  that  it  did  not  approach  the  divine  greatness  of  the 
theme,  let  him  be  assured  that  I  have  been  more  dissatisfied 
than  he.  At  the  same  time  I  may  say:  You  know  how  I  have 
kept  back  nothing  that  was  profitable  to  you — no  point  of 
Christian  truth  or  dnt\  that  has  seemed  to  be  needful,  hut 
have  announced  to  you,  publicly,  and  from  house  to  house — in 
the  great  congregation,  and  in  the  more  private  teaching  and 
application  of  the  word — testifying  to  all  alike,  year  alter  year, 
in  times  of  revived  religious  feeling,  and  in  times  of  compara- 
tive declension,  tlie  one  comprehensive  doctrine  of  repentance 
toward  God,  and  faith  toward  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  This,  as 
every  hearei'  knows,  has  been,  in  its  diversified  bearings  and 
relations — in  the  arguments  by  which  it  is  enforced,  the  views 
of  God  and  man,  of  time  and  eternity,  of  sin  and  salvation,  by 
which  it  is  illustrated,  and  the  applications  in  which  it  bears  on 
all  the  details  of  human  duty — this  has  been  the  hiii-then  of 
my  ministry  :  Repent,  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  here — 
repent,  and  turn  to  God — repent,  and  bring  forth  fruits  meet 
for  repentance — repent,  and  believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
putting  full  confidence  in  his  readiness  and  power  to  save  you, 
and  following  him  whithersoever  his  word  and  spirit  will  lead 
you. 

One  phrase  in  the  A.postle's  speech  refers  to  what  he  had  ex- 
perienced at  Ephesus.  lie  speaks  of  his  "  tears,"  and  of  the 
opposition— the  "temptations"  or  persecutions — which  he  had 
encountered  from  the  machinations  of  the  unbelieving  dews. 
II i>  allusion  in  the  word  "  tears"  may  be  to  some  personal  sor- 
row which  was  of  course  well  known  to  his  hearers  on  that 
occasion,  but  of  which  no  record  has  come  to  us.  Perhaps  the 
allusion  is  only  to  the  anxiety  and  the  depression  of  feeling 
with  which  he  had  pursued  his  work,  watching  for  souls,  and 
grieved  to  see   men  dying  in  their  sins.     But  when  he  speaks 


RETIRING    FROM    BIS   OFFICIAL    WORK.  111'.) 

of  what  befel  him  by  the  plotting  of  adversaries,  we  know 
what  he  means.  We  have,  in  the  foregoing  chapter,  a  definite 
account  of  the  opposition  which  was  made  to  him  in  Ephesus 
on  the  ground  that  his  preaching  interfered  with  commercial 
and  public  Interests  :  and  he  implies  that  when,  as  he  expresses 
ir  in  one  of  his  epistles,  he  "fought  with  wild  beasts  at  Ephe- 
sus,'1 unbelieving  .lews,  enemies  of  Christ  crucified,  were  at  the 
bottom  of  the  mischief,  as  we  know  they  were  at  [conium  and 
Lystra,  and  at  other  places.  Now  I  have  no  thought  of  com- 
paring myself  with  the  Apostle  in  this  respect.  My  life  among 
you  lias  not  been  without  its  share  in  the  sorrows  incident  to 
our  condition  in  a  dying  world  ;  but  why  should  I  speak  of 
such  soi-rows  to-day?  Let  me  rather  say  that,  through  your 
kindness,  and  by  the  favoring  providence  of  God,  my  life 
among  you  has  been  eminently  a  happy  life.  My  home, 
though  often  darkened  by  sickness  and  death,  has  been,  and  is. 
a  happy  home.  Vet  when  I  think  of  this  long  ministry,  and 
of  how  many  there  have  been,  and  are,  to  whom,  in  the  name 
of  a  redeeming  God,  I  have  offered  a  great  and  free  salvation. 
hut  of  whom  it  would  he  presumptuous  to  say  thai  the  gospel 
which  they  have  beard  here  will  not  hear  witness  againsl  them 
to  their  condemnation — when  I  remember  what  thoughts,  what 
hopes,  what  disappointments,  I  have  had  concerning  them — 
when  I  remember  what  prayers,  in  the  church  and  in  retire 
meiit.  have  accompanied  the  invitations,  the  persuasions,  and 
the  warnings  which  I  have  addressed  to  them  from  tin-  place, 
and   in   which  I   have  been  Christ's  messenger  to  their  souls — I 

Can  enter  into  the  feeling  which  the  Apostle  uttered  when  he 
-poke  of  "serving  the  Lord  with  all  humility  of  mind,  and 
with  many  tears.'1 

Something,  too.  I  have  known  oi  that  opposition  which  the 
\'ic*'  and  earnesl  application  ol  God's  word  to  the  sins  of  men 
rarely  fail-  to  excite.  Of  course  I  have  never  had  an)  such 
experience  as  Paul  had  al  Ephesus  and  elsewhere  such  things 
are  not  to  he  expected  here.     Nor  have  I  ever  encountered  an\ 

hostility     on    the    part    of    thi-    church,    or    of    the    ecclesiasl  ical 

society.  It  here  and  there  <»ne  has  been  unable  to  accept  the 
news  which  have  here  been  exhibited  from  the  word  of  God. 
and  applied  to  live  questions  oi   duty,  such   persons  have  never 


II"  LEON  \IM>    BACON. 

formed  a  party  in  opposition  to  the  Pastor.  Sometimes  such 
an  one  bas  been  generouslj  willing  to  recognize  the  tact  thai  I 
musl  be  governed  by  my  own  convictions,  and  sometimes  an- 
other has  quietly  withdrawn  to  seek  elsewhere  a  ministry  better 
suited  to  the  habil  of  his  mind.  But,  after  all,  I  have  never 
had  occasion  to  take  alarm  from  thai  saying  of  Christ:  "Woe 
onto  yon  when  all  men  shall  speak  well  of  you."  The  open 
enemies  of  Christian  truth  and  holiness,  and  those  who  have 
had  aims  or  interests  adverse  to  the  moral  welfare  of  society, 
have  never  been  my  friends.  It  is  a  small  thing  to  have  been 
the  song  of  the  drunkard,  and  the  jest  of  the  ribald  scoffer. 
Mm  who  gel  gain  by  making  drunkards,  and  whose  industry 
helps  tn  increase  the  aggregate  of  \dce  and  crime  in  the  com- 
munity, filling  the  poor-house  and  the   jail  with  the  victims  of 

their  trade,  have  hated  me  and  cursed  me.      Men  who  find  their 

fellow-man  "guilty  of  a  skin  not  colored  like  their  own,"  and 
who  "for  such  a  rightful  cause"  desire  to  tread  him  down — 
men  whose  interests  in  trade,  or  whose  associations  and  aspira- 
tions in  political  parties,  were  so  involved  in  the  wicked  insti- 
tution of  slavery  that  they  must  needs  pay  homage  to  that 
hideous  idol,  and  cry  in  its  behalf,  from  time  to  time,  as  De- 
metrius and  his  mob  cried  :  "Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians" 
— and  men  who  were  disloyal  or  half  loyal  to  their  country 
when  rebellion  was  striking  at  its  lift — have  charged  me  with 
nut  preaching  the  gospel,  and  have  cast  out  my  name  as  evil. 
But  their  opposition  has  never  done  me  personally  any  harm, 
(such  men's  opinions,  as  to  what  the  gospel  is,  are  of  little  con- 
sequence), and.  in  this  closing  hour  of  my  service  as  your  Pas- 
tor, I  am  thankful  to  remember  that  those  who  want  an 
antinomian  gospel,  with  no  denunciation  of  wickedness,  with 
no  lighl  lor  the  conscience,  and  with  no  power  to  quicken  the 
moral  sense,  have  never  spoken  well  of  me.  Opposition  from 
such  sources  is  a  testimony  that  I  have  not  shunned  to  declare 
all  the  counsel  of  <  rod. 

The  A.p08tle  could  -ay.  in  all  humility  of   mind,  and   without 

professing  that  he  had  never,  in  any  respect,  come  short  of  his 
duty  to  Christ:  -i  I  take  you  to  record  this  day  that  I  am  pure 
from  the  blood  of  all  men,  for  I  have  not  shunned  to  declare 
unto   you   all   the  counsel  of  God."     While  [  know  my  infirm- 


RETIRING    PROM    HIS    OFFICIAL    WORK.  ill 

ity.  and  confess  before  God,  and  before  you  all,  that  I  have 
fallen  very  far  short  of  what  I  ought  to  have  been  as  a  minis- 
ter of  Christ  in  such  a  place  as  tins,  you  are  my  witnesses  this 
day  that.  s<>  far  as  the  scope  and  range  of  my  preaching  of 
God's  word  is  concerned,  I  have  kept  back  nothing  that  was 
profitable,  and  have  not  shunned  to  declare  unto  von  all  the 
counsel  of  God,  and  that,  in  that  view,  I  am  free  from  the 
blood  of  all  m<  ii. 

III.  Another  topic  in  Paul's  discourse  at  Miletus  is  even 
more  personal  to  himself.  He  speaks  of  his  own  future,  and 
of  the  uncertainties  which  were  before  him.  'k  I  am  going," 
he  Bays,  "to  Jerusalem,  carried  along  like  a  prisoner — bound  in 
the  spirit — hound  in  conscience — not  knowing  the  things  that 
shall  befall  me  there."  There  were  many  things  distinctly  in 
prospect  that  might  have  discouraged  him;  hut  his  great  desire 
was  that  he  "might  finish  his  course  with  joy,  and  the  ministry 
which  he  had  received,  to  testify  the  gospel  of  the  "-race  of 
God." 

In  regard  to  my  own  future,  1  have  little  to  say.  I  am  not 
departing  from  you.  Here,  where  I  have  lived  so  many  year-. 
I  expeel  to  pass  the  brief  remainder  of  my  life.  How  it  is 
that  my  official  ministry  in  this  dear  congregation  has  come  to 
it-  conclusion,  I  can  hardly  explain  to  myself  otherwise  than 
by  savin--  that  God  has  SO  ordered  it.  When  I  proposed  to 
you.  a  year  and  a  half  ago,  to  relieve  me  of  my  pastoral  care 
and  labor,  entirely,  or  in  part,  at  your  discretion,  I  had  no  plan 
or  prosped  for  the  future,  other  than  that  perhaps  I  might 
find  time  in  the  evening  of  life  to  perform,  for  the  churches  of 
New    England,  a  s<  rvice  to  which  I  had  been  urged  l>\  friends 

and    by    brethren  in  the  mini-try.  hut   which   I   felt   I  should  not 

perfonn  with  the  undivided  care  of  this  congregation  resting 
on  i in- ;  and  that,  while  performing  thai  service,  I  might  also 
he  doing  Borne  u I  by  giving  instruction  to  theological  stu- 
dent- concerning  the  New  England  church-polity  and  church- 
history.  M\  thought  was  that  I  might  goon  with  m\  pastoral 
charge  for  another  year  or  two,  and  then  perhaps  for  \et  an- 
other, till  you  should  find  a  successor  for  me.-  Hut  pour  singu 
lar  kindnese  and  generosity  in  meeting,  and  more  than  meeting. 
my  wishes,   and    in  making  provision  for  me  and  those  depend- 


I  !•_'  LEONARD    BACON. 

cut  on  me   in  mi  declining  years,  became  a  significant  ultima 
tion  tome — an  intimation,  nol  ofyourwish,  1  >  1 1 1  of  your  gener- 
ous willingness,  thai    I   should  lay  down  my  office.     And  then 

just  as  the  arrangemenl  was  complete  which  yon  have  made 
for  me  a  most  unexpected  invitation  to  a  different  kind  ot 
work  was  laid  before  me.  [n other  circumstances,  I  shouldnol 
have  listened  to  such  an  invitation.  There  is  no  promotion  in 
going  from  this  pulpit  to  a  theological  chair— as  pulpits  and 
professorships  are  to-day.  The  transfer  might  have  been  pre 
ferment  forty  years  ago;  but  times  arc  changed.  For  many 
years  I  have  been  devoutly  thankful  that  I  was  not  a  professor 
of  theology;  and  never  have  I  desired  a  position  so  exposed 
to  the  censures  of  those  good  men  who  feel  that  their  voca- 
tion is  to  be  jealous  for  their  traditional  orthodoxy.  But,  not- 
withstanding niv  reluctance,  the  circumstances  in  which  I 
found  myself,  when  the  invitation  came,  seemed  like  a  clear 
revelation  of  my  duty.  I  go  "hound  in  the  spirit" — reluc- 
tantly— under  a  sort  of  necessity  laid  upon  me  in  God's 
providence — not  knowing  how  I  may  succeed  in  my  new  work. 
It  is  a  wort  in  which  my  term  of  service,  at  the  longest,  must 
he  very  short,  and  for  which  I  can  now  make  no  preparation 
other  than  that  which  my  more  than  forty  years  of  service  and 
experience  in  preaching  have  given  me.  I  may  fail  in  it.  I 
have  not  dared  to  commit  myself  to  it  hut  for  a  single  year. 
But  if.  by  the  blessing  of  (iod,  I  succeed-in  it,  I  shall  leave  a 
great  legacy  of  good  behind  nu;  having  finished  my  course 
with  joy,  and  the  ministry  which  I  have  received  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  to  testify  the  gospel  of  the  grace  of  (iod. 

IV.  The  Apostle  speaks  anxiously,  and  in  words  of  warning, 
a-  to  the  future  that  was  before  the  church  at  Ephesus. 
Charging  the  elders  or  bishops,  who  were  his  hearers,  that  they 
Bhould  take  heed  to  themselves  and  to  all  the  flock  over  which 
the    Holy  Ghost  had  made  them  overseers,  he  says  :  "I  know 

thi>,   that    after   my    departing  grievous    wolves    will     enter    in 

among  von.  not   sparing  the  flock.     Also  of  your  own  selves 

will  men  arise,  -peaking  perverse  things  to  draw  away  disciples 
after  them."  He  foresaw  dangers  coming  upon  that  church 
from  without,  and  dangers  arising  within,  hut  he  could  say  in 
confident    hope  ;   "  I  commend   you  to  God,  and  to  the  word  of 


KETIKfXi;    FROM    HIS    OFFICIAL    WORK.  113 

his  grace,  which  is  able  to  build  you  up  and  to  give  you  an  in- 
heritance among  all  them  which  are  sanctified." 

Shall  1  say  anything  to  yon  abont  your  future \  I  remem- 
ber the  past.  The  history  of  this  church,  for  two  hundred  and 
thirty  years,  testifies  of  God's  care  and  favor.  He  brought 
hither  a  vine  as  out  of  Egypt.  He  cast  out  the  heathen,  and 
planted  it.  He  prepared  room  before  it.  and  caused  it  to  take 
deep  rout.  k-  She  hath  sent  out  her  boughs  unto  the  sea,  and 
her  branches  unto  the  river!"'  Will  lie  not  behold  and  visit 
this  vine  and  the  vineyard  which  his  right  hand  hath  planted  I 
Will  he  who  lias  guarded  this  church,  and  upheld  it  through 
bo  many  ages,  and  so  many  changes,  forsake  it  now?  I  call  to 
mind  the  changes  of  these  last  forty  years.  What  hath  God 
wrought!  Think,  brethren,  what  has  been  going  on  in  this 
world  since  you  and  I  have  been  in  this  relation  to  each  other. 
No  age  of  history,  save  only  that  in  which  Christ  came  and 
his  gospel  began  to  run  its  course  of  conquest,  has  been  so  full 
of  marvelous  changes  a>  Lhe  age  in  which  we  have  been  Living, 
and  which  ie  covered  by  the  personal  recollections  of  the  old 
men  among  u>.  Think  what  revolutions  of  empire  there  have 
been — what  changes  in  commerce  and  the  intercourse  of  na- 
tions—  what    Btrides    in    the  progress  of  civilization,  of   knowl- 

_■-.  and  of  the  arts  that  minister  to  human  power  or  human 
comfort.  Think  how  marvelous!}  these  changes  have  been 
made  subservient,  on  the  whole,  to  the  advancement  of  civil 
and  religious  liberty,  to  the  more  general  diffusion  of  knowl- 
edge in  all  civilized  nation-,  and  to  the  spread  of  the  gospel 
through  the  world.  Such  views  are -familiar  to  all  intelligent 
persons,  but  it  requires  a  more  thoughtful  mind,  observant  of 
spiritual  things,  to  realize  what  changes  have  been  taking  place 
within  these  forty  years  in  the  universal  church  of  Chrisl 
especially  how  the  religious  thinking,  and  the  religious  activity, 
and  the  various  manifestations  of  religious  experience  and 
Bpi ritual  life,  in  the  entire  extent  of  Protestant  and  Evangel 
ical  Christendom,  have  really  advanced  from  the  position  of 
forty  years  ago.  Other  changes,  of  uo  less  significance  than 
those  which  crowd  our  memory,  will  mark  the  remainder  of 
the  waning  century.  The  kingdom  oi  Chrisl  is  advancing; 
and,  a-  dependent  on   it   or  subsidiary  to  it,  governments  will 


Ill  LEONARD   BACON. 

rise  and  fall,  <>1<I  empires  will  pass  away  like  exhalations, 
science  will  make  new  discoveries  in  all  the  realms  of  nature, 
commerce  and  art  will  give  new  power  to  industry,  and  the 
wealth  of  nations  especially  of  free  and  Christian  nations 
like  our  own — will  increase  beyond  all  former  calculation. 
Peril  is  always  incident  to  progress,  and,  as  I  look  to  the  imme- 
diate future,  I  foresee  dangers  to  the  churches  dangers  in 
which  this  church  must  share.  I  foresee  danger  from  without. 
in  the  prevailing  tendency  of  modern  thought  acting  on  the 
churches  and  their  ministry  through  all  the  channels  of  litera- 
ture, and  coming  in  on  all  the  vehicles  of  intellectual  influence. 
The  tendency  of  modern  thought  is  to  the  denial  of  a  personal 
Grod,  and  therefore  to  a  scheme  or  body  of  opinions  which  is 
really  atheism  cloaking  itself  in  words  that  seem  to  be  religious. 
That  is  the  danger  from  without— the  danger  of  a  pantheistic 
Ante<  hrist,  for  e\  en  now  there  are  many  Anti-Christs — the 
danger  of  conceptions  and  principles,  plausible  hut  heathenish, 
creeping  into  the  churches  in  the  guise  of  a  religious  philos- 
ophy, like  wolves  in  sheep's  clothing.  At  the  same  time  I  for- 
see  danger  from  within— nay,  I  see  it  actually  present,  and 
growing  every  day.  The  danger  from  within  is  in  the  grow- 
ing wealth  of  the  members  of  the  churches,  and  in  those  habits 
of  self-pleasing,  and  conformity  to  the  world,  which  wealth 
engender-.  <)  my  Christian  brethren  in  this  church,  take  heed 
to  yourselves — take  heed  to  the  flock.  Take  heed  in  the  choice 
of  a  Pastor.  Take  heed  to  place  over  you,  in  the  ministry  of 
the  word,  not  one  whose  brilliant  rhetoric  shall  attract  the 
thoughtless  without  making  them  thoughtful,  and  who  shall 
pull  down  other  congregations  to  build  np  this,  but  a  man 
earnest  to  save  souls,  a  man  full  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  of  that 
power  which  comes  from  communion  with  the  mind  of  Christ, 
a  man  who  will  teed  the  Hock  of  the  Lord  winch  lie  has  pur- 
chased with  his  blood.  Thus  I  commend  you  to  Grod,  and  to 
the  word  of  his  grace.  Let  your  trust  for  your  future  be  in 
that  gospel  which  is  in  the  power  of  G-od  to  salvation,  and  in 
Gk>d  who  gave  it.  He  is  able  to  build  you  up.  and  to  give  you 
an  inheritance  among  all  them  who  are  sanctified. 

Mmiv  than   this  the  Apostle  said  to  his  hearers  at  Miletus. 
In  order  to  secure  them  against  the  dangers  which  he  foresaw. 


RETIRING    PROM    HIS    OFFICIAL    WORK.  L15 

he  commended  to  their  attention  the  beneficent  and  self-deny- 
ing character  of  the  religion  which  he  had  taught  them.  Having 
referred  to  his  own  example,  reminding  them  how  far  he  stood 
above  the  suspicion  of  mercenary  aims  and  views  in  the  work 
which  he  had  done  among  them,  and  with  what  self-denial  he 
had  served  them  in  the  gospel,  by  his  personal  industry  con- 
tributing to  the  necessities  of  himself,  and  of  those  that  were 
with  him,  he  ended  his  discourse  by  saying:  "  I  have  showed 
you  all  thing-,  how  that  so  laboring  ye  ought  to  support  the 
weak,  and  to  remember  the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  how  he 
said  :  '  it  is  more  blessed  To  give  than  to  receive.' "'  The  benefi- 
cent spirit  of  Christ  living  in  his  followers — self-denying  ac- 
tivity and  generosity  in  doing  good — earnest  and  unwearying 
cooperation  in  the  work  of  Christ — is  the  conservative  power 
by  which  the  church,  under  the  guardianship  of  Christ  himself, 
must  be  held  up,  and  built  up,  in  all  the  times  of  temptation 
that  conic  upon  the  earth.  Those  who  are  working  for  Christ, 
and  with  him,  against  the  wretchedness,  the  ignorance,  and  the 
wickedness,  of  the  world — consulting  and  praying  together,  and 
provoking  one  another  in  holy  emulation  to  love  and  good 
work> — -are  workers  together  with  God,  and,  in  the  conscious- 
ness that  be  is  with  them,  they  know  that  their  fellowship  is 
with  the  Father  and  with  his  Son  Jesus  <  Ihrist.  Religion  is  to 
them  not  a  -peculation  nor  a  dream,  but  a  life,  and  no  plausi- 
bilities of  pantheistic  philosophy,  in  whatever  form  of  literature 
or  science,  can  turn  them  from  their  faith  in  a  personal  God, 
who  discerns  between  good  and  evil,  with  infinite  joy  in  the 
one,  and   infinite  abhorrence  of   the  other.     The   temptations 

which  come  with  increase  of   riches  shall  not  prevail  over  them, 

for  the  discipline  of  work  and  self -deniaj  in  the  service  of  Chrisl 
i-  ever  training  them  to  acknowledge  that,  as  they  are  Christ's, 
BO  all  thai  they  can  call  their  own  is  his.  and  cannot  without 
sacrilege  be  used  for  their,  own  self-indulgence  and  vainglory. 
Brethren  and  friends,  in  this  final  hour  of  my  official  ministry 
among  you,  I  charge  you,  ae  yon  would  be  sale  from  the  temp- 
tation- thai  in  the  future  will  besel  yon  from  without  and  from 
within,  take  heed  to  yourselves  and  to  the  flock,  and  lei  this 
church  become  progressively  earnesl  and  Large-hearted  in  the 
work  of  the  Lord.     Remember  thai   pure  religion  and  nude- 


116  I    H  >\   \  IM>     I!  \<o\. 

filed  before  G-od  and  the  Father  i>  a  religion  of  personal  benefi- 
cence, and  of  protesl  in  s|)irii  and  life  against  all  in  this  world 
thai  pollutes  the  soul.  Be,no1  in  profession  only,  but  in  all 
your  activit)  and  aspiration,  followers  of  ('hrist  as  dear  chil- 
dren -followers  of  him  who,  though  he  wasrich,  for  our  sake 
became  poor— followers  of  the  world's  Redeemer,  and  workers 
together  with  him-  working  and  giving  as  well  as  praying — 
working  for  God  working,  through  every  good  enterprise  and 
institution  for  the  church,  for  the  suffering  <»r  the  degraded, 
for  neighbors  and  fellow  citizens,  for  posterity,  for  the  country, 
for  the  world.  So  shall  God,  by  the  word  of  Ids  grace,  build 
you  up,  and  give  you  an  inheritance  among  the  saints. 

A  few  words  will  sufficiently  explain  the  position  in  which  I 
stand  henceforth  as  related  to  those  who  have  been  the  people 
of  my  pastoral  charge.  My  relation  to  the  Ecclesiastical  So- 
ciety will  he  simply  'hat  of  ,i  grateful  pensioner.  From  this 
day  the  pulpit  is  no  Longer  mine.  I  have  no  responsibility  for 
it.  and  no  control  over  it.  My  resignation  having  been  ac- 
cepted by  the  society  and  consented  to  by  the  church,  I  am 
simply  a  retired  Pastor,  not  dismissed  by  a  council,  and  com- 
mended to  the  churches  for  another  settlement,  hut  one  who 
has  served  his  time  out.  and  been  released  from  service.  In 
this  church  I  am  a  brother  —an  elder  In-other,  and,  in  the  sense 
of  that  Apostolic  precept.  "Is  any  sick  among  you  2  let  him 
call  for  the  elders  of  the  church,1'  I  am  still  an  elder.  Till  the 
time  conies — which  I  pray  may  not  he  distant  when  you  will 
have  another  Pastor,  call  for  me.  as  freely  as  heretofore,  when 
any  is  sick  among  you,  and  where  the  windows  are  darkened 
by  death.  Let  no  member  of  this  congregation  think  that  the 
tic  between  you  and  me  i--  broken  in  that  respect,  or  that  it  is 
weakened.  80  lone.'  as  you  are  without  another    Pastor. 

I>  all  this  a  dream  '.  -  or  i>  it  a  waking  reality?  Is  it  indeed 
a  fact  that  I  am  now  laying  down  what  has  been  my  life-work  \ 
Of  the  less  than  sixty  years  this  side  of  the  dim  and  sliadowy 
period  into  which  my  memory  cannot  distinctly  penetrate. 
almost  forty-two  are  identified  with  my  work  in  this  church. 
All  my  plan.-  in  lite  all  my  intellectual  pursuits  and  enjoy- 
ments-   my  studies  and   my  relaxation-     my  dearest  affections 


RETIRING    FROM    BIS    OFFICIAL    WORK.  117 

— my  domestic  joys  and  sorrows — all  my  hopes  this  side  of 
heaven  ;  yes,  and  my  bopes  that  reach  info  that  brighter  world 
— myprayen — my  daily  consciousness  of  infirmity  and  depen- 
dence— my  conflicts  with  temptation — my  confidence  in  Christ's 
grace  and  strength — my  experiences  of  religious  comfort,  and 
aspirations  after  likeness  to  the  Saviour — have  been  insepara- 
bly connected  with  that  burthen,  heavy  but  happy,  which  I 
now  lay  down  before  you  and  before  God.  You  cannot  think 
it  strange  that  the  laying  down  of  such  a  burthen,  so  long  in- 
corporated with  my  life,  seems  to  me  almost  like  a  dream. 

Twice,  since  the  beginning  of  this  year,  I  have  been  called 
to  preach  at  a  Pastor's  funeral,  and  somehow  it  seems  as  if  T 
were  performing  the  same  sort  of  service  to-day.  Among  the 
Pastors  of  the  Congregational  churches  in  this  city,  the  two 
that  were  uearest  to  myself  in  age,  and  with  whom  I  had  been 
associated  from  the  beginning  of  their  ministry  in  their  early 
youth,  have  died;  and  the  pulpits  that  were  theirs  are  vacant. 
This  pulpit  which  has  been  mine  is  vacant,  though  I  am  yet 
alive.  It  is  a  singular  coincidence  of  events,  under  the  provi- 
dence of  ( rod,  that  these  three  churches,  the  oldest  of  our  order 
in  New  Haven — the  three  that  have  had  pastorates  continuing, 
respectively,  into  the  twenty-eighth,  the  thirty-third,  and  the1 
forty-second  year  are  now  at  once  looking  to  the  greal  Shep- 
herd and  Bishop  of  souls,  and  waiting  for  Pastors.  One  gener- 
ation goeth  and  another  generation  coineth.  The  age  to  which 
my  life  belongs  is  disappearing  and  passing  into  history,  and 
another  age,  in  which  the  tnostof  you  will  survive  me.  i-  be- 
ginning. Brethren  and  friends,  for  your  own  sake,  and  your 
children'-  sake,  and  \'<>v  the  Bake  of  all  those  interests  which  are 
involved  in  the  purity  and  spiritual  prosperity  of  these  churches, 
let  prayer  be  made  continually,  that  in  the  new  age  which  i> 
opening,  these  churches,  enriched   with  the  ministry    "I   godly 

Pastors,  able  and    faithful,    ma\   Btand  together,  ami  do  all  their 

part  in  the  work  of  training  souls  for  heaven,  and  of  filling  the 

world  with  the  knowledge  and  the  glon  of  the  Lord. 


HALF-CENTURY  SERMON, 

Preached  Makch  9,   L 875,  by  Rev.  Leonard  P.acon,  D.D. 


Psalm  lxxi.  it.     0  God,  Thod  hast  taught  mi.  peow  my  rouTH. 

Never  till  this  day,  in  the  two  hundred  and  thirty-six  years 
since  the  gathering  of  this  chnrch,  has  one  of  its  ministers 
lived  to  see  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  his  induction  into  office. 
John  Davenport  was  more  than  forty  years  of  age  when  he 
kept  that  first  Sabbath  in  the  wilderness;  and.  thirty  years 
afterward,  he  resigned  his  charge  and  removed  to  end  his  days 
in  the  service  of  anothei  ehnrch.  lli>  two  associates  here,  firsl 
William  Hooker,  and  then  Nicholas  Street,  were  men  who  had 
Berved  elsewhere  many  years,  not  only  in  the  national  Church 
of  England,  Imt  in  New  England,  before  they  came  to  New 
Haven.  The  first,  after  a  brief  ministry  as  teacher  of  this 
church,  returned  to  England.  The  other,  succeeding  him 
almosl  immediately,  and  continuing  six  years  after  the  re- 
moval of  Davenport,  died  at  an  advanced  age,  bul  had  served 
this  church  less  than  sixteen  years,  dame-  Pierpont,  the  firsl 
of  our  pastors  horn  and  educated  in  this  country,  died  at  the 
age  of  fifty-five,  after  twenty-nine  years  of  service.  The  pae 
torate  of  Joseph  Noyes  continued  forty-five  years,  including 
three  yeaxi  after  the  ordination  of  his  colleague  and  successor. 
(halluces  Whittelsey,  though  he  had  never  held  office  in  any 
other  church,  wa-   nearh    forty  years  old   at    the  date  <,i    his 


L20  LEONARD   BACON. 

ordination,  and  the  period  of  his  ministry  was  only  thirty  years. 
James  Dana  was  more  than  fifty  years  old  when  he  came  from 
the  church  in  Wallingford  to  be  Pastor  of  this  church;  and  in 
less  than  twenty  years  he  yielded  his  place  to  a  young  man. 
Moses  Stuarl  was  Pastor  nol  quite  four  years.  Ten  years  and 
a  half  were  measured  between  the  ordination  and  the  dismis- 
sion of  my  immediate  predecessor,  Nathaniel  William  Taylor. 
Yet  of  the  nine  whom  I  have  mentioned  as  having  been 
pastors  and  teachers  in  this  church,  all  Bave  one  died  in  old 
age,  while  only  the  first  two  and  the  last  three  were  removed 
otherwise  than  by  death.  I  have  numbered,  perhaps,  as  many 
years  of  lite  as  the  most  aged  of  my  predecessors;  but,  though 
I  was  relieved  from  the  burthen  of  the  pastorate  eighl  years 
and  a  half  ago,  I  have  never  been  in  form,  dismissed  from  the 
office.  Therefore  I  regard  myself,  and  am  kindly  recognized 
1>\  the  church,  as  'pastor  <  rru  ritus.  Some  reason,  too,  I  have 
to  believe  thai  "having  obtained  help  from  God,"  I  have  nol 
been  thus  far  mischievous  in  that  relation.  Neither  from  my 
gifted  and  honored  successor,  nor  from  the  deacon-,  nor  yet 
from    members   of    the  church   or  of    the    ecclesiastical    society. 

has  there  come  to  me  even  the  least  or  most  indirect  manifesta- 
tion of  any  jealous  or  unkind  feeling  toward  the  old  minister. 
I  have  always  been  in  my  place  here  on  the  Sabbath,  unless 
detained  by  illness  or  called  to  some  occasional  ministry  else- 
where. I  have  not  assumed  to  preside  in  church  meetings,  for. 
though  still  an  elder,  I  am  not  presiding  elder.  I  am  some- 
times commissioned  to  appear  for  the  church  as  its  Pastor  in 
ecclesiastical  councils.  I  am  often  called  to  officiate  here  in 
the  preaching  of  the  word,  in  the  celebration  of  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per, in  the  baptism  of  your  children,  in  the  admission  of  mem- 
bers, as  well  as  from  house  to  house  in  funeral  services,  and  on 
other  occasions  of  sorrow  or  of  gladness.  So,  being  still  in 
some  respects  a  Pastor  of  the  First  Church  of  Chrisl  in  New 
Haven,  and  acknowledging  the  continued  respect  and  kindness 
ifar  beyond  my  deserving)  shown  me  in  that  relation,  I  have 
invited  sou  t.»  meet  me  here  to-day  for  a  religious  commemora- 
tion of  what  took  place  iii  this  house  fifty  years  ago. 

The    ninth   of    March.    1  S2.">.  was   one   of   those    bright  days 
which    introduce    the    spring.      An    ecclesiastical    council    had 


BALF-CENTURY    SERMON.  121 

been  convened  on  the  preceding  day,  and  had  performed  all  its 
duty  preliminary  to  the  public  solemnities  of  the  installation. 
Sleeting  again  that  morning,  the  council,  with  the  Pastor-elect 
and  the  committees  of  the  church  and  the  society,  and  with 
clergymen  not  members  of  the  council,  moved  in  a  somewhat 
formal  procession  from  the  old  lecture-room  in  Orange  street  to 
this  house. 

Of  the  members  of  that  council  there  i>  now  nor  one  survi- 
vor. The  church  in  the  United  Society,  the  church  in  Vale 
College,  the  church  in  West  Haven,  and  the  First,  South  and 
North  churches  in  Hartford,  were  present  by  delegation,  all 
>ave  two  of  them  represented  by  both  Pastor  and  messenger. 
The  President  of  Yale  College,  and  my  immediate  predecessor, 
then  in  the  third  year  of  his  service  as  Professor  in  the  Divinity 
School,  were  also  members  of  the  council  by  personal  invita- 
tion. President  Day  was  moderator,  Professor  Fitch  was 
Bcribe.  The  public  service  was  begun  with  prayer  by  the  Rev. 
Carlos  Wilcox,  whose  mini-try  in  the  North  Church  at  Hart- 
ford had  just  begun  and  was  soon  ended.  Another  Hartford 
Pastor,  the  Rev.  Joel  Hawes,  preached  one  of  his  best  sermon.-. 
The  venerable  Father  Stebbins,  of  West  Haven,  offered  the 
prayer  of  installation.  I>r.  Taylor  gave  the  charge,  The  Rev. 
Samuel  Mci-wiu.  who  had  been  nineteen  years  the  pastor  in  the 
•  Onited  Society,  gave  the  right  hand  of  fellowship,  and  then 
the  closing  prayer  was  offered  by  the  scribe.  Professor  Fitch. 
This  i-  nor  exactly  like  the  programme  of  a  modern  installation, 
with  its  invocation  and  scripture  reading  before  what  was  once 
the  introductory  prayer,  and  with  it-  "charge  to  the  people," 
borrowed  from  the  Presbyterian  theory  of  church  government, 
and  too  often  made  the  vehicle  of  unseemly  quips  and  joke.-: 
hut  fifty  yea  -  ago  it  was  enough. 

fifty    veai-    ago!       What    was    I    then  i       Where   am    I    QOW  \ 

Then,  a-  I  entered  this  house  in  the  procession,  and  from  the 
high  |nil|tit  looked  over  the  greal  assembly,  the  thought  of  the 

responsibility  c ing  upon  me,  the  thought   that   within  these 

walls  the  great   work  of  my  life  was  to  he  wrought,  tilled  my 

-  with  tear-.     Yet  how  ignorant  was  I  of  what  things  were 

coming  upon  me!     How  inadequate  were  my  anticipations  of 

what   mv  work   would   he:    and.  with  all    mv  consciousness  of 


122  ONARD   BACOtf. 

Insufficiency,  bow  little  did  I  understand  the  disproportion 
between   myself  and   the   place   into   which    I    was   inducted! 

To-day,  al  the  cud  of  fifty  years,  I  come  into  this  house,  mid 
where  am  I'  The  Bame  walls  enclose  us ;  the  Bame  vaulted 
roof  is  over  lis;  the  same  spire  catches  the  slanting  beams  of 
Bunrise  and  of  sunset,  the  same  old  graves  are  beneath  us,  but 
what  else  remains?  Those  into  whose  faces  I  now  look  areas 
far  removed  in  time  from  those  into  whose  faces  I  looked  that 
day,  as  the  congregation  thou  assembled  was  from  the  congre- 
gation in  the  old  "middle  brick"  meeting-house  before  the 
declaration  of  independence,  before  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill, 
before  the  first  gun  of  the  revolution  was  tired  at  Lexington. 
Those  now  before  me  who  remember  that  installation  are  not 
bo  many  ae  there  were  in  that  congregation  who  remembered 
the  sacking  of  Now  Haven  by  the  British— an  event  which 
seems  t<»  the  living  generation  like  a  dim  tradition  from  some 
distant  age. 

We,  too,  who  remember,  are  conscious  of  change  in  our- 
selves. We  are  changed  in  our  position  and  relations,  in  our 
views  and  habits — changed  by  all  the  difference  between  child- 
hood or  youth  and  the  decline  of  life.  Vet  under  the  con- 
sciousness of  change  there  is  a  profounder  consciousness  of 
identity.  Our  thoughts,  in  our  old  age,  are  not  the  same  that 
they  were  fifty  years  ago;  our  feelings  are  not  the  same;  we 
look  on  the  world  around  us  a.-  through  other  eves  than  those 
of  our  youth:  we  look  forward  with  xwy  different  expecta- 
tions and  desires;  but  great  as  are  these  changes  in  the  opera- 
tion of  our  minds,  like  the  changes  in  our  bodily  powers  and 
function-,  the  fact  that  we  remember  and  are  at  this  moment 
bringing  into  one  thought  the  present  and  the  past,  implies — 
nay,  is  the  direct  consciousness— that  we  are,  each  one  of  us, 
the  same.  That  which  the  word  "I"  stands  for,  that  which 
thinks,  and  feels,  and  wills,  is  permanent  through  all  these 
changes.  The  earth  on  which  I  stood  when  1  was  a  child,  is 
the  Bame,  the  sun  that  shorn-  upon  me  then  is  the  same,  the 
changeless  north  star  is  the  same,  bu1  the  identity  of  earth  or 
sun  or  star— the  identity  even  of  a  material  atom  in  all  its  com- 
binations and  through  all  the  ages,  is  not  more  absolute  than 
mine  or  your-.     Changes  sweep  around  us     changes  are  ever 


HALF-CENTURY    SERMON.  1-;1 

going  on  within  us,  but  the  memory  of  one's-self  is  the  con- 
sciousness of  an  identical,  permanent,  indivisible  personality. 
That  persona]  identity  of  which  we  are  conscious,  running  on 
through  all  changes,  thirty,  fifty,  seventy  years,  and  more- 
must  it  not  continue  through  the  last  change  and  beyond  it  '. 
Emotion  may  be  transient  as  the  tear  or  the  smile;  but  the 
soul  that  remembers  it  is  permanent.  Thought  may  follow 
thought  like  waves  upon  the  shore,  but  that  which  thinks  is 
imperishable.  Tie  who  holds  that  there  is  thought  without  a 
thinker,  and  memory  with  no  mind  that  remembers,  and  heroic 
purposes  and  struggle,  but  no  personal  will — or,  more  briefly, 
he  who  denies  his  own  personal  existence — may  deny  that  he  is 
to  exist  hereafter.  But  we  who  remember  know  that  we  exist 
— we  know  that  through  all  the  changes  around  us  or  within 
us,  our  indivisible  existence  is  identical;  and  how  can  we  admit 
that  our  consciousness  of  thought  and  will  and  memory  is  not 
immortal?  May  I  not  say  that  He  who  has  brought  life  and 
immortality  to  light  has  made  ns  conscious  of  our  immortality  \ 
Something  of  that  consciousness  gleams  through  the  words 
which  1  have  selected  as  a  theme  for  this  occasion :  "O  God, 
Thoii  hast  taught  me  from  my  youth."  The  Psalmist,  "  old 
and   gray   beaded,"  remembered   the  years  of  long  ago — how 

when  he  was  ;i  child  he  thought  as  a  child  —  how  when  he 
became  a  man  he  put  away  childish  things;  and,  conscious  of 
personal  identity  through  the  changes  of  so  many  years,  he 
was  conscious  that  <><>d  had  been  teaching  him.  Taking  the 
hint  which  these  words  give  me,  I  make  them  my  own:  uO 
God,  Thou  hasl  taught  me  from  my  youth."  Instead  of 
attempting  to  sum  up  the  story  of  the  changes  which   have 

taken  place  iii  this  church,  in  our  city,  in  our  country,  and  in 
the  world,  and    which    have  made  this    last    half  century  one  of 

the  most  wonderful  "in  the  book  of  time,"  I  propose  to  teD 
only  of  some  changes  which   have  been   going  on    in  my  own 

mind;  and,  in  30  doing,  I  hope  to  preach  not  myself,  hut 
( 'liri-t  JesilS  the  Lord. 

I.   How  does  '""I   teach?     In   what    methods,  and  by  what 
mean-  and    processes,   has  lie   been   teaching    me?      When    I 
shall  have  answered  this  question,  I  will  mention  some  of  the 
Lessons  which   I   think    I   have  learned     though   imperfecth 
under  1 1  is  teach 


I  •_'  I  LEONARD   BACON. 

I.  There  la  a  divine  teaching  l»\  means  <>t'  those  physical 
changes  which  mark  the  progress  from  youth  to  maturity  and 
to  old  age.  God  lias  Keen  teaching  me  in  thai  way.  You 
max  stand  in  the  morning  sunlighl  on  one  of  the  hills  thai 
overlook  our  city  from  the  east,  and  then  you  may  come  again 
and  survey  the  same  Landscape,  from  the  same  point  of  view, 
in  the  light  of  the  setting  sun.  How  obvious  the  difference 
between  what  you  saw  at  sunrise  and  what  you  sec  at  sunsel  I 
There  was  no  illusion  in  that  morning  light  then'  is  none  in 
the  more  golden  radiance  of  the  later  hour.  What  von  saw, 
when  the  light  was  behind  you  and  all  the  shadows  fell  west- 
ward, was  reality  :  and  what  von  see  now.  with  the  shadows 
reversed,  is  equally  real.  But  yon  know  the  landscape  better 
by  seeing  it  first  in  the  morning  and  then  in  the  evening,  than 
if  you  saw  it  always  in  the  Bame  light.  Somewhat  like  this  Is 
the  difference  between  the  outlook  of  the  mind  in  the  early 
vigor  of  its  powers  and  its  outlook  in  later  years — a  difference 
in  the  physical  conditions  of  thought  and  knowledge.  While 
til't\  years  were  passing,  what  changes  have  there  been  in  the 
brain,  in  the  nerves,  in  the  entire  fabric  of  the  body  which  the 
sonl  inhabits.  By  means  of  such  changes  God  is  teaching  us. 
Fifty  years  ago,  when  my  eyes  were  young,  when  the  blood  of 
young  manhood  was  in  my  veins,  when  the  fibre  of  the  brain 
had  not  attained  it-  maturity,  when  all  the  moods  and  impulses 
of  youth  were  in  full  play,  it  was  not  possible  for  me  to  see 
things  a-  I  saw  them  at  the  noon  of  life,  or  as  I  see  them  now. 
Vet  what  God  had  then  already  taught  me  is  incorporated  and 
blended  with  all  that  lie  has  been  teaching  me  even  to  this 
dav.  If  we  think  of  the  sold  as  horn  not  for  this  mortal  life 
Only  hut    for    a    great    hereafter,  we  realize  in    a    moment    that 

these  successive  changes  in  the  physical  conditions  of  mental 
activity  may  he  a-  truly  essential  to  the  soul's  development  as 
wen-  those  earlier  changes  by  which  the  baby  on  its  mother's 
bosom  grew  to  the  stature  of  a  man.  When  I  lay  helpless  on 
niv  mother's  bosom,  God,  by  physical  changes— by  growth  of 

braiu  and  nerve  and  muscle-  made  it  possible  for  me  to  speak, 
to  walk,  to  think,  to  work;  and  so  he  taught  me.  In  like 
manlier,  by  all  tin-  subsequent  changes  which  make  up  the 
life  of  this  material  organism  of  ours,   He  has  been  teaching 


HAi.r-cExrrKY  sermon.  125 

me  even  to  this  day.  And  if  there  are  before  me  years  of 
senility  and  decrepitude,  they  too  'will  have  their  place  in  the 
plan  of  God's  dealing  with  my  soul;  and  let  me  say,  to  the 
last,  "  <  >  God,  Thou  has  taught  me  from  my  youth." 

'1.  God  teaches  every  one  of  ns  by  means  of  <>nr  association 
with  other  minds ;  in  that  method  Fie  has  been  teaching  me. 
From  our  infancy  onward,  all  our  teachers  are.  or  ought  to  be, 
(rod's  servants,  teaching  ns.  by  the  direct  action  of  their  minds 
on  ours,  what  lie  would  have  us  learn.  The  direct  action  of 
one  mind  upon  another,  communicating  knowledge,  guiding 
and  quickening  thought,  training  the  faculties  of  observation 
and  reflection,  touching  the  springs  of  sensibility,  of  con- 
science, and  of  love  or  hate,  and  in  all  these  ways  moulding 
the  character,  is  what  we  ordinarily  mean  by  teaching.  So 
the  mother  and  father  tench  their  children,  and  the  little 
children  of  a  household  teach  one  another,  mind  acting  upon 
mind.  So,  all  our  lives  long,  we  are  in  close  association  with 
tin-  mind-  around  us,  and.  if  we  are  not  too  untcachable,  they 
are  always  teaching  us. 

It  i-  t i r  therefore,  as  I  review  (rod's  dealings  with  me  for 
these  fifty  years,  that  I  make  some  thankful  mention  of  how 
lb-  has  been  teaching  me  by  means  of  my  association  with 
other  men.  older  than  myself  or  my  coevals,  superior  to  me  in 
the  gifts  of  nature  and  of  learning,  or  my  equals.  When  I  came 
to  this  |>a>toral  charge  in  my  inexperience,  ami  with  all  The 
rawness  of  my  preparation  for  The  work,  my  immediate  prede- 
cessor, instead  of  being  numbered  with  the  dead  or  removed  to 
some  distant  po>t  of  duty,  was  my  neighbor  and  friend.  I 
was  never  in  any  formal  way  his  pupil:  I  did  not  frequent  his 
lecture-room,  but  in  those  early  years  my  intercourse  with  him 
was  constant  and  intimate.  Tic  direct  influence  of  his  mind 
on  my  thinking  supplemented  m\  inadequate  studies  in  theol 
ogy.  He  was  then  already  far  the  foremost  of  the  living  theo- 
logians of     New    England,  aS    lie  had     been   one  of    the   fofeii  n  i.-t 

and  most  successful  of  New  England  Pastors,  and  my  familiar 
intercourse  with  him  taughl  me  to  think  and  taught  me  \i< 
preach.  It  was  hardlj  a  leas  privilege  to  be  associated  in  the 
Bame  sorl  of  intimacy  with  Professors  Fitch  and  Goodrich,  and 
with    President    Day,  who  was  to  me  a-  venerable  then  a-  he 


;  •_'»'.  I,K(  i\  \  1:1.    i:  \i  ( >\. 

could  ever  have  been  to  those  who  knew  him  only  in  the  Later 
years  of  his  presidency,  or  in  thai  calm,  long  evening  of  his 
life  which  was  so  beautiful.  Nor  will  I  refrain  from  mention- 
ing in  this  connection  the  modesl  and  worthy  man  who  was 
then  Pastor  of  the  church  in  the  United  Society,  Samuel  Mer 
win.  lie  aever  thought  himself  the  peer,  either  in  learning  or 
in  mental  force,  of  the  eminenl  men  whom  I  have  just  named; 
hut  he  ami  I  were  the  only  Congregational  Pastors  in  the 
town:  there  was  no  line  of  demarcation  between  our  parishes, 
and  pel  neither  of  us  had  the  f aintesl  jealousy  of  the  other. 
Our  friendship  was  intimate,  our  intercourse  constant,  our 
mutual  confidence  without  reserve.  His  personal  acquaintance 
with  the  ways  of  my  two  surviving  predecessors,  and  with 
their  predecessor,  and  Ids  nineteen  rears  of  experience  before 
me  in  the  pastoral  office,  were  an  advantage  to  me;  and 
through  him  I  became  acquainted  with  the  place,  with  tradi- 
tions and  memories  then  recent,  and  with  the  ideas  and  usages 
of  times  that  were  beginning  to  he  old,  and  were  vanishing 
away. 

Outside  of  New  Haven  then;  were  other  ministers,  by 
whom  God  taught  me  in  those  early  days;  one  was  Lyman 
Beecher;  tor  though  he  removed  from  Litchfield  to  Boston 
within  a  \ear  after  my  installation  here,  I  often  saw  him  and 
was  often  present  with  him  in  those  meetings  for  fraternal 
consultation  which  he  loved;  and  I  rarely  saw  him  without 
catching  from  him  some  electric  flash  of  thought,  some  pithy 
Baying  easily  remembered  lor  its  wit,  and  worth  remembering 
for  it-  wisdom,  some  story  of  hi-  earlier  or  later  experience  in 
preaching,  or  some  inspiring  suggestion  of  work  to  he  done  for 
Christ  and  for  humanity.  Another  was  Nathaniel  He  wit,  then 
of    Fairfield,  afterwards  of   Bridgeport,  whose  connection  with 

the  Hillhouse  family  often  brought  him  to  this  place.  His 
p,,\yer  of  fascination  over  a  young  minister  was  like  that  <d'  the 
poet's  "ancient  mariner"  over  the  "wedding  guest;"  and 
though  I  was  not  betrayed  by  that  fascination  into  an  accept- 
ance of  his  austere  and  (as  I  thought),  unbiblical  theology,  nor 
int.,  the  hahit  of  seeing  the  presenl  and  the  near  future  under 
the  sombre  light  which  his  mind  threw  oyer  them,  I  learned 
from  him  many  a  lesson  which  I  have  not  forgotten.     And  yet 


HALF-CENTURY    SERMON.  1*27 

another,  under  whose  influence  I  came  in  those  early  years,  and 
whom  I  never  ceased  to  Love  and  honor,  was  Thomas  II.  Skin- 
ner, then  of  Philadelphia,  and  afterwards  of  New  York. 
Through  a  series  of  yea  is  there  was  hardly  a  summer  when  he 
did  not  visit  us.  His  child-like  simplicity  of  affection  and  of 
trust,  his  power  as  a  preacher,  his  eagerness  to  discuss  the 
most  difficult   themes  in  relation  to  the  divine  redemption  and 

renovation  of   sinner, all  were    helpful    to  me;  and,  as  I  look 

back  to  my  youth.  1  bless  God  for  my  friendship  with  that 
saintly  man. 

It  was  my  thought  to  speak  of  how  God  taught  me  by 
my  friendly  association  with  men  who  though  I  revered  them, 
were  not  ministers  of  the  word.  But  should  I  venture  in  that 
direction  the  time  would  fail  me.  I  also  intended  to  speak 
more  at  length  of  Borne  younger  than  myself,  with  whom  I 
have  Keen  a  fellow-worker  in  this  ministry,  hut  I  must  forbear. 
Yet  there  are  two  names  nay.  three  which  I  must  mention. 
If  ever  there  was  a  man  with  mental  constitution  utterly  unlike 
mine,  that  man  was  Henry  <r.  Ludlow;  always  overflowing 
with  demonstrative  affection  and  emotion,  always  ready  to 
preach,  and  never  preaching  hut  with  a  flame  of  enthusiasm, 
at  one  moment  weeping  in  pity  or  sympathy  and  at  the  next 
moment  laughing  with  Borne  gush  of  religious  joy.  It  seemed 
almost  as  if  nothing  in  him  was  commensurate  with  anything 
in  me.  Yet  he  loved  me.  and  I  eoidd  not.  if  I  would,  help 
loving  him.  There  was  help  for  both  of  ue  in  that  friendship; 
for  if  men  love  one  another,  working  side  by  side,  they  are 
teaching  one  another  by  the  wry  diversity  of  their  gifts.  The 
late  Dr.  Cleaveland  became  pastor  of  the  Third  Church  when 

I   was  in  the  ninth  year  of  my  ministry  here;   and  then,  for  the 

firsl  time,  I  found  myself  associated  in  this  half-colleague  rela- 
tion with  a  brother  younger  than  myself  lor  he  was  five  or 
,-i\  years  my  junior.     Even  before  his  ordination  we  began  to 

he  on  term-  of  intimacy,  consulting  with  each  other  almost 
dail\   ;i-    partner-    in  the  same  work.       I   think    that    in  that    inti- 

mae\  he  learned  something  from  me;  and  I  am  confidenl  that 
I   was  taughl   something  l>\    m\   sympathy  with  him.  and  my 

endeavors  t"  encourage  him  under  the  trial-'  of  hi-  early  minis- 
try.      When   he  became,  at  a  BOmewhal   later  period,  an  alarmist 


1  -s  LEON  \  l>'l»    B  \tHN. 

iii  theology,  and,  still  Inter,  aii  extreme  conservative  in  politics, 
our  intimacy  was  sometimes  interrupted;  hut  there  was  never, 
to  hi\  knowledge,  anv  bitterness  between  us;  and  I  (rust  thai 
rlie  mistakes  which  I  thoughl  I  Baw  on  Ins  part,  taughl  me 
something.  I  always  knew  thai  he  loved  Chrisl  and  loved  the 
truth.  And  when  I  think  of  Dr.  Dntton,  I  know  that  my  long 
Intimacy  with  him,  never  interrupted  by  a  distrustful  word  or 
thonght,  was  a  blessing  to  both  of  us.  II',  in  our  constant 
intercourse,  I  as  an  elder  brother  was  helpful  to  him,  he  as  a 
younger  brother  was  surely  helpful  to  me.  It  was  good  to 
pray  with  him;  good  to  talk  with  him;  good  to  work  with 
hint.  It  was  good  to  share  his  affectionate  and  ever  faithful 
friendship  -to  see  how  lie  watched  for  souls,  and  how  kindh 
he  visited  the  suffering  or  the  sorrowing — to  see  his  strenuous 
loyalty  to  justice  and  to  liberty,  hut  generous  indignation 
against  wrong  done  to  others,  and  his  more  generous  forgetful- 
ness  or  uneonseioiisiiess  of  wrong  or  insult  offered  to  himself. 
Dear  Brother  Dutton!  It  seems  lonesome,  even  now,  to  be 
living  on  without  him. 

Let  me  say  why  I  have  been  so  particular  in  these  state- 
ments—as much  so  as  I  could  well  he  without  mentioning  the 
name  of  any  living  friend.  It  is  because  I  desired  to  give  my 
testimony  on  this  point  for  the  benefit  of  younger  ministers 
here  present,  and  more  especially  lor  the  benefit  of  the  still 
younger  men  who  are  hoping  to  serve  in  this  ministry.  God 
teaches  the  ministers  of  his  word,  and  helps  them  to  make  the 
mosl  of  what  i>  in  them,  by  means  of  their  association  with 
other  ministers.  No  man  who  enters  the  ministry  can  afford 
to  cut  himself  off  from  the  benefit  of  constant  intercourse. 
free  and  fraternal,  with  his  neighboring  brethren  in  the  same 
ministry.  When  Pastors  and  other  working  ministers  forsake 
the  assembling  of  themselves  together  in  brotherly  association 
— when  they  lose  the  consciousness  of  partnership  inacommon 
work,  and  cease  to  meet  for  consultation  and  mutual  help — 
Then  vou  may  know  that  the  ministry  is  losing  power;  that, 
Instead  "f   the    union    of    hearts   and    hands    which    conies   from 

conferring  together  aboul  their  difficulties,  their  successes,  their 

Studies  and  their  plan-  of   doing  good,  there  will  soon  he   petty 

estrangements  among  them,  and  mean   jealousies,  and  scram- 


HALF-CENTURY    SERMON.  129 

Mini:- rivalries — and  that,  instead  of  mutual  improvement,  there 
will  be,  in  too  many  instances,  no  improvement  at  all.  The 
minister,  however  gifted  or  privileged,  who  confines  his  views 
to  his  own  parish  as  if  he  had  no  concern  in  anybody  who  is 
not  or  may  not  become  a  pewholder  in  his  congregation,  and 
who  shuts  himself  up  to  his  own  separate  studies,  as  if  none  id' 
the  brethren  around  him  had  any  interest  in  him  or  any  right 
to  he  benefitted  by  Ins  attainments,  will  by  and  by  grow  stiff 
and  narrow  in  his  ways  of  thinking,  and  in'  his  isolation  his 
mind  will  shrivel.  When  I  see  a  young  minister  holding  hack 
from  fraternal  intimacy  with  his  brethren,  recognizing  no  obli- 
gation on  him  to  attend  their  meetings  for  consultation  and 
mutual  help,  taking  an  attitude  and  position  as  of  one  who  is 
above  learning  anything  from  the  slow-going  old-fashioned 
men  who  were  so  unfortunate  as  to  come  into  the  world  a  few 
years  before  hini.  and  assuming  that  he  has  nothing  in  the 
world  to  do  but  to  work  his  own  parish  according  to  his  own 
wisdom,  I  have  notmuch  hope  of  him.  A  sacred  proverb  for- 
bidfi  n-  to  indulge  any  large  expectations  concerning  one  who  i- 
too  wise  in  his  own  conceit  to  learn  anything  from  his  seniors 
or  from  his  compeer-. 

For  my  own  part.  1  Bay  again  with  devout  acknowledgment, 
that  God  ha-  taught  me  from  my  youth  even  to  this  day,  not 
only  in  general  by  means  of  my  association  with  other  minds 
in  the  various  walk-  of  learning  and  of  business,  but  especially 
by  means  of  my  constant  association  with  other  minds  in  the 
-ame  high  and  sacred  employment  with  myself.  When  I  was 
the  youngesl  among  all  the  Pastors  of  the  county  or  of  the 
State.  I  was  taught  by  kindly  intercourse  with  elder  brethren 
who  had  known  my  lather  before  me;  and.  while  1  have  been 
growing  old  in  pears,  I  have  endeavored  t,»  keep  myself  young 
in  mind  and  Bpiril  by  familiar  intercourse  with  my  younger 
brethren. 

::.   I   was  going  to  -peak  of  hook-    i-  another  mode  of  the 

action  of  mind  upon  mind  :    tor  in  thai   method  God  has  taught 

in,'  from  m\  \oiith.  and  i-  -till  teaching  me.  hut  there  is  no 
time  for  what  [  would  like  to  say  on  that  point.  I  have  never 
been  a  greal  reader,  1113  lite  being  too  hn-\  for  that.  Little  of 
•  iiy  iime  has  been  -pent   in  libraries,  nor  have  I  aspired  to  eirii 


1  30  LEON  \  K'l-    BACON. 

nence  in  any  departmenl  of  scholarship.  Bui  you  know  there 
is  one  volume  which,  above  all  others,  lias  been  the  study  of 
my  lit'i'tiiiH',  and  the  principles  of  which,  as  revealing  God  t<> 
men  and  reconciling  men  to  God,  it  has  been  my  life-work  to 
untold  and  apply.     <  >ther  books  have  been  useful  to  me  chieflj 

as  helps  to  the  understanding  and  expositi f  thai  volume; 

and  from  the  beginning  I  have  sought-  alas  that  I  have  not 
sought  more  earnestly— to  make  my  acquisitions  in  whatever 
direction  subservienl  to  the  great  end  of  announcing,  explain- 
ing and  promoting  that  kingdom  <>f  God  among  men  which  is 
the  <>ne  comprehensive  theme  of  the  Bible.  Not  commenta- 
ries only  and  honks  of  Learned  exegesis — not  theology  only  in 
Bystems  and  controversies — hut  books  in  every  department  of 
knowledge  have  had  for  me  their  chief  value  in  their  relation 
to  that  one  volume  which  has  been  my  text  hook,  and  which  is 
above  all  others,  and  in  distinction  from  all  others,  God's  own 
book.  Philosophy — history — the  physical  sciences  exploring 
all  the  realms  of  nature — the  sciences  of  man,  of  government, 
and  of  that  great  complexity  of  rights  ami  interests  and  duties 
by  which  men  arc  connected  with  each  other,  and  which  con- 
stitute society  and  the  State-  every  science  that  has  to  do  with 
concrete  realities — must,  sooner  or  later,  pay  tribute  to  Christ 
and  become  subservient  to  his  kingdom.  In  that  confidence,  1 
have  studied  my  text-book,  and  have  been  ready  to  receive 
whatever  light  may  fall  upon  its  pages.  I  have  never  had 
any  fear  that,  in  the  progress  of  knowledge,  God  may  he 
eliminated  from  the  universe  or  Christ  from  history.  The  rev- 
elation of  God  reconciling  the  world  to  himself,  is  what  the 
Bible  gives  us,  and  what  science  can  never  take  away. 

4.  Omitting,  then,  all  I  would  gladly  say— and  perhaps  gar- 
rulously— about  some  hooks  other  than  the  Bible,  which  have 
been  eminently  helpful   t<>  me,  I  proceed   to  speak,  briefly,  of 

another  method    in  which  God    has  taught  me  from  my  youth. 

Fifty  vcar>  ago,  when  I  was  younger  than  most  young  men 
are  when  they  enter  a  theological  seminary.  He  who  gives  wis- 
dom  t<.  those  who  ask    it  of   Him   began  to  teach  me   by  my 

experience    as  a   Christian     Pastor.       for    the   first    tWO    Or    three 

years,  as  might  have  been  expected,  by  Bome  depressing  expe- 
riences    there  is  no  need  of  my  describing  them     they  were 


EALF-CENTURY    SERMON.  131 

such  as  come  quite  naturally  to  one  in  the  position  in  which  I 
found  myself.  I  had  undertaken  a  work  too  great  for  the 
immaturity  of  my  powers  and  the  inadequateness  of  my 
preparation  for  it.  But  from  the  first,  I  was  not  without  some 
experience  of  another  sort — the  experience  of  wise  and  gener- 
ous friendship  among  my  people,  and.  better  still,  the  expe- 
rience which  a  Pastor  gains  by  personal  contact  with  souls 
coming  to  him  for  guidance  in  the  way  of  life,  and  led  by  his 
counsel  to  lay  hold  on  the  hope  set  before  them.  And  when, 
ere  the  third  year  of  my  pastorate  was  completed,  there  came 
a  religions  awakening  in  the  congregation,  that  larger  experi- 
ence of  the  joy  of  "gathering  fruit  unto  life  eternal,"  taught 
me  many  a  lesson  which  I  could  not  have  learned  from  years 
of  converse  with  hooks  and  of  earnest  meditation.  Then,  and 
thenceforward,  a  new  light  was  thrown  over  my  work  in  the 
pulpit,  in  the  study  ami  in  the  parish.  There  was  courage  in 
the  thought  that  my  labor,  had  not  been  in  vain  in  the  Lord  ; 
and  that  there  were  among  my  people  so  many  who  loved  me 
because,  under  my  teaching  and  guidance,  in  part,  they  had 
been  introduced  to  the  new  life  in  Christ.  If  I  do  not  deceive 
myself  in  these  reminiscences,  the  people  saw.  and  my  brethren 
in  the  ministry  saw,  that  I  had  learned  something.  Still  I  fell 
short,  far  short,  of  my  own  ideal,  and  of  the  better  and  more 
experienced  ministers  with  whom  I  compared  myself  and  was 
compared  by  other-.  I»ut  every  new  reviving  in  the  more  than 

forty  years  of  my  active  pastorate  was  a  fresh  experience  of 
God'e  teaching.  Not  only  my  public  work  in  preaching  and 
lecture-room  talking,  hut  m\  work  from  house  to  house  (such 
a-  it  was),  my  conference  with  individuals  in  various  stages  of 
religious  thoughtfulness,  my  intercourse  with  the  sick  or  other- 
wise afflicted,  my  funeral  ministrations,  my  words  of  counsel 
and  of  prayer  by  the  bedside  of  the  dying,  poor  as  al  the  besl 
they  musl  have  been,  were  the  better  and  the  more  valuable  for 

all   God'fl  teaching   of  me  l.\    BUCh   experience. 

;..   I  hasten  to  recognize  one  more  ol   the  methods  in  which 
(4od  has  taught  me  from  my  youth,  namely,  by  1 1  is  providence 
over  me  and  mine.     The  events  of  everj  man's  individual  life, 
the   burthens   laid  upon   him.  hi-  successes  and   his  disappoinl 
ments,  the  relation-  of  love  and  duty  in  his  home,  the  joys  and 


LEON  \  l!l>    R  ^.CON. 


griefs  thai  alternately  brighten  and  darken  bis  dwelling  these 
and  the  like  are  whal  we  call  ('<"V>  special  providence  over 
him;  and  tlic\  are,  from  beginning  to  end,  a  discipline  by 
which  God  is  teaching  bim.  I  think  to-day  of  what  God's 
providence  over  me  lias  been  for  three  and  Beventy  years.  I 
recall  the  first  dawning  of  memory  and  the  days  of  my  earlj 
childhood  in  the  -rand  old  woods  of  New  Connecticut,  the 
sainth  and  self-sacrificing  father,  the  gentle  ye1  heroic  mother. 
the  loe  cabin,  from  whose  window  we  sometimes  saw  the  wild 
deer  bounding  through  the  forest  glades,  the  lour  dear  sisters 
whom  I  helped  to  tend,  and  whom  it  was  my  joy  to  lead  in 
their  tottering  infancy  yes,  God's  providence  over  me  was  even 
then  teaching  me.  Our  home  life,  the  snowy  winter,  the  blos- 
Boming  spring,  the  earth  never  ploughed  before  and  yielding 
its  first  crop  to  human  labor,  the  giant  trees,  the  wild  flowers, 
the  wild  birds,  the  I. lithesome  squirrels,  the  wolves  which  we 
heard  bowling  through  the  woods  at  night,  the  hears  which  we 

children  heard  of  and  feared,  hut  never  saw,  t  he  redskin  savage 

sometimes  coming  to  the  d ■,  by  these  things  God  was  making 

impressions  on  my  sold  that  must  remain  forever,  and  without 
which  I  should  nor  have  been  what  I  am.  I  remember  my 
later  boyhood  in  another  home  and  amid  other  surroundings — 
the  petty  mortifications  and  occasional  hardships  incidental  to 
my  position  the  moral  dangers  which  might  bave  been  my 
ruin  but  out  of  which  I  was  strangely  delivered — the  circum- 
stances that  awakened,  from  time  to  time,  something  of  reli- 
gious sensibility — the  opportunities  and  means  of  learning 
which  were  given  me,  inadequate,  vet  inestimable.  God's  care 
was  over  me  then,  and  by  His  providence  He  was  teaching  me. 
|  remember  how.  when  my  father  hail  found  rest  in  bis  grave, 
a)1(|  ,,iv  mother  was  a  belpless  though  not  friendless  widow, 
God  answered  their  prayer  for  their  first-born,  and  brought  me 
to  Yale  College.  And  here  God  taught  me  not  only  by  the 
ministry  of  tutors  and  professors,  with  their  text-books  ami 
their  lectures,  bul  also  by  Hi-  special  providence  over  me. 
'i'he  peiniiw  and  dependence,  the  privations  ami,  I  may  say, 
hardships,  a-  well  a-  the  opportunities  of  those  years,  were 
comprehended  in  the  discipline  by  which  God  was  training 
1,,,..     Bu1  why  do  I  speak  of  these  things?     It  is  more  appro- 


HALF-CENTURY.    SERMON.  L33 

priate  for  me  to  say,  on  this  occasion,  that  through  these  last 
fifty  years  God's  providence  over  me  and  mine  lias  been  a  con- 
stantly instructive  discipline.  He  gave  me  a  wife  whose  dear 
memory  is  tenderly  cherished,  even  now,  by  all  who  knew  her 
and  continue  to  this  day.  We  set  up  our  home  in  humble 
fashion,  and  lie  hallowed  it  and  made  it  happy.  He  gave  us 
children  to  love  with  that  exquisite  affection  which  parents 
know.  He  kept  us  poor,  but  we  had  food  and  raiment,  and 
somehow  they  were  paid  for.  We  had  no  certain  dwelling- 
place  :  but  wherever  our  hired  house  was  for  the  time,  no 
house  in  the  town  was  more  gladsome  with  the  voices  of  chil- 
dren. For  more  than  fifteen  years  the  shadow  of  death  never 
fell  upon  our  home.  I  had  known  sorrow,  but  there  were 
some  sorrows  which  I  had  never  tasted.  At  last  it  came,  and 
when  my  youngest  horn — just  old  enough  to  wonder  why  his 
father  could  not  help  him — was  dying  in  my  arms,  after  a 
short,  .-harp  illness,  ending  with  the  agony  of  suffocation,  ah ! 
that  was  a  new  experience,  and  God  was  teaching  me  by  it. 
Then,  after  two  more  children  had  been  born,  and  we  had 
lived  a  little  while  in  the  house  which  we  could  call  our  own,  the 
wife  and  mother  died,  and  the  pleasant  house  was  desolate. 
Well  did  I  know  in  that  dark  day,  that  God's  providence  was 
teaching  me.     The  children   He  had  left  me  were  dearer  than 

ever  for  her  sake  a>  well  ;i>  for  their  own  sake,  and  closely  did 
they  (dint;"  to  inc.  By  mv  struggles  lor  them,  and  by  the  ear- 
nest endeavors  of  the  older  ones  to  lighten  their  father's  bur- 
then, God  was  teaching  me.  By  thai  entire  experience  God 
taught  me  opening  to  my  bou]  the  treasures  of  Mis  word,  giv- 
ing me  some  new  qualifications  tor  the  mini-try,  by  which 
those  treasures  are  dispensed.     Three   vein-  had   been   almost 

completed  when    a    new    mother,  bringing    with    her  all    a    true 

mother's   love  and   patience,  was  given  to  m\   children;  and 

what  she    ha-  been  to  them  and    to  me,  through   much   ill  fi  rn  lit  \ 

and  suffering  what  reason  the}  have  and  I  have  to  bless  God 
in  her  behalf  ueed  not  he  told  to  any  who  know  whal  im 
home  has  been  for  the  last  eighl  and  twenty  years. 

Bui  I  inii-i  refrain.  I  have  Baid  enough  to  -how  whal  a 
conviction  I  have  thai  all  mv  life  long,  and  especially  through 
the  last  fifty  rears,  God's  providence  over  me  has  been  a  disci- 


3  I  l.l'.oN  \  K I »    BACON. 


pline,  teaching  me,  training  me,  making  all  changes  subser- 
vient to  the  progress  of  my  intellectual  and  spiritual  being. 
Our  life  itself  in  this  world  is  one  continued  course  of  educa- 
tion and  teaching  by  the  providence  of  llim  who  created  us 
for  immortality. 

II.  I  promised  to  mention  some  <>l  the  lessons  which  I 
think  1  have  learned  within  these  fifty  years  under  God's 
teaching.  Bu1  in  attempting  to  redeem  that  promise  I  will  not 
weary  you.     Suggestions  merely  must  suffice  instead  of  detail.-. 

••( )  God,  Thou  hast  taught  me  from  my  youth."  What  lias 
God  taught  me?  What  have  I  gained  from  His  teaching? 
,1.;  |  have  gained,  from  one  stage  of  progress  to  another, 
clearer  and  more  just  conceptions  of  Christian  truth.  Mv 
progress  in  that  sort  of  knowledge  was  not  ended  when  I  came 
from  Andover;  it  is  not  ended  yet.  I  know  more  to-day — 
more  adequately  and  exactly — what  God  reveals  to  us  hy  the 
Bible,  than  I  knew  fifty  years  ago — more  than  I  knew  ten 
years  ago;  and  I  am  still  a  learner,  and  hope  to  be  a  learner  to 
the  end.  (2.)  It  is  partly  by  those  clearer  and  more  just  con- 
ceptions of  Christian  truth,  that  I  have  gained  a  broader  liber- 
ality of  judgment  in  regard  to  theological  and  ecclesiastical 
di  tie  re  nee-  among  Christians,  and  a  corresponding  enlargement 
of  sympathy  with  all  who  follow  Christ.  I  trust  I  am  as  far 
a>  ever  from  the  liberality  of  indifferentism,  hut  God  has 
taught  me,  as  He  is  teaching  lli>  churches  everywhere*,  thai 
they  who  believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  follow  Him  are 
agreed  in  the  main  thing  and  may  agree  to  differ  in  other 
things.  (3.)  By  the  same  teaching]  have  gained  better  views 
of  what  Christian  experience  is,  and  of  how  the  Christian  life 
begins  and  is  sustained  and  manifested.  Long  ago  I  learned 
and  began  to  teach-  what  I  did  not  adequately  know  at  the 
beginning  of  my  ministry -that  experience,  however  con- 
formed to  any  tradition  of  what  conversion  and  regeneration 
ought  to  be  must  be  tested  by  the  character  and  not  the  char- 
acter by  the  experience,  and  that  wherever  the  Christian  char- 
acter appear-  in  the  authentic  "  fruits  of  the  Spirit" — there  is 
ii, ,  need  of  inquiring  for  the  story  of  the  psychological  process 
in  which  the  character  began  ;  and  thus  I  am  learning,  more  and 
more,  to  recognize  as   belonging  to  Christ  all  who  profess  and 


HALF-CENTURV    SERMON.  135 

seem  to  love  Him.  (4.)  I  have  also  gained,  and  am  gaining, 
by  the  same  method,  better  apprehensions  and  a  more  firmly 
grounded  faith  concerning  the  future  of  Christ's  work  and 
kingdom  in  the  world. 

That  future.  I  am  sure  of  it.  and,  though  I  know  only  in 
part,  I  know  better  than  I  once  knew,  what  it  will  he.  It  is 
impossible  for  one  who  remembers  the  last  fifty  years — the 
most  eventful  half-century  in  the  world's  history,  not  to  believe 
that  Christ  will  reign  over  all  nations — that  the  spirit  of  Christ 
will  pervade  all  literature,  that  all  philosophy  will  pay  homage 
to  His  gospel,  that  the  progress  of  science  and  of  all  the  arts 
subservient  to  human  welfare  will  facilitate  the  progress  of  the 
gospel  till  it  shall  have  conquered  the  world,  and  that  the 
wheels  of  time  are  revolving  swiftly  to  bring  the  day  when 
voices  shall  be  heard  on  high  "praising  God  and  saying  the 
kingdoms  of  this  world  have  become  the  kingdoms  of  our 
Lord  and  of  Hi.-  ( Ihrist." 

Yes,  1  have  seen  the  coming  of  the  glory  of  the  Lord.  I 
bless  God  that  I  have  lived  in  such  a  world  as  this,  and  have 
had  mv  humble  part,  my  work  to  do,  in  such  an  age  as  this. 
Why  Bhould  I  not  say,  when  the  hour  of  my  departure  comes, 
••  Now  lettesl  Thou  Thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  for  mine  eyes 
have  seen  Thy  salvation  '." 

1  cannot  close  Letter  than  by  reading  the  following,  which  I 

would  ask   you  to  Bing  if   we    had  not  lost  our  good   old   hymn 

books : 

My  i  rod,  my  everlasting  hope, 

I  live  upon  Thj  truth  ; 
Thy  hands  have  held  my  childhood  up 

Aii'l  strengthened  all  my  youth. 

hae  my  life  new  wonders  seen 
Repeated  everj 
Behold  my  daj  -  tha(  j  el  remain, 
I  trusl  them  to  Thj  care. 

i  me  ii"i  off  «  hen  si  rength  declines, 
When  ho 
And  round  me  lei  Thy  glory  shine 
When*  i  vanl  dies. 

Then  in  >' 

When  men  review  mj 

II  read  Thy  law  in  ei  i 
In  evei \  line  Thj  pi 


SERMON 

PBE  ACHED  BY  REV.  LEONARD  BACON,  D.D., 

November    24,   1881. 


Psalm  cxi/vii,  20. — He  hath  not  dealt  so  with  any  nation:    and  is  fob  his 
judgments  they  have  not  known  them.     praise  ye  the  lord. 

I  attempt  this  service  with  hesitation  because  of  my  bodily 
infirmity,  though  tin-  service  is  to  me  a  privilege.  Nothing  is 
more  probable  than  that  tin's  is  my  last  opportunity  of  preach- 
ing a  Thanksgiving  sermon.  Therefore,  baying  the  opportunity, 
I  make  the  attempt,  trusting  that  yon  will  hear  me  with  kind 
allowance  for  my  failing  strength. 

Formerly,  the  Thanksgiving  festival  was  characteristic  of  the 
New  England  States  -each  State  by  itself  appointing  a  day  for 
the  public  acknowledgment  of  God's  goodness  in  the  circling 
year.  Bui  now.  our  kindred — the  children  of  our  New  Eng- 
land fathers  -have  spread  themselves  over  the  breadth  of  the 
continent :  and  they  have  carried  with  them,  into  all  the  States 
an<l  Territories,  some  remembrance  or  tradition  of  what  the  old 
Thanksgiving  was  in  New  England  congregations  and  New 
England  homes;  and  so,  at  last,  the  "venerable  usage"  is  char- 
acteristic of  the  A.merican  people.  We  meet  to-daj  nol  onlj 
nt  the  call  of  our  own  Governor  but  also  al  the  call  of  the  Pres- 
ident  of  the  United  States.  We  meel  qoI  only  as  citizens  of 
this  old  commonwealth,  bu1  as  citizens  also  in  that  greal  union 
of  commonwealths  which  we  call  the  nation. 

This  is  therefore  a  national  giving  of  thanks;  and  we  meet 
in  tli i>  temple  that  we  maj  devoutly  acknowledge  God's  wise 


188  le<  »nard  bacon. 

and  gracious  providence  over  our  common  counl  ry.  We  might 
find  matter  for  devoutly  thankful  meditation  in  God's  goodness 
toward  this  eit>  of  New  Haven,  or  toward  our  own  Connect] 
cut;  l»ut  let  us  rather  occupy  the  hourwith  tlioughts  aboul 
God's  dealings  with  this  greal  fellowship  of  States  especially 
during  the  year  now  drawing  to  its  close. 

A>  we  turn  our  thoughts  in  thai  direction,  one  terrible  fact 
seems  to  darken  the  whole  Held  of  vision.  <  >u  the  fourth  of 
March,  James   &.  Garfield   was   inaugurated    President,  and   a 

new  era  of   peace   and    splendor  over  our  whole  country  seemed 

to  have  begun.  The  people  had  placed  him  in  the  chair  of 
Wellington  and  of  Lincoln  because  they  trusted  him  ;  and 
when  they  saw  his  modest  dignity  in  that  high  station,  the 
statesmanlike  way  in  which  lie  entered  on  his  work,  and  at  the 
same  time  the  republican  simplicity  of  the  man  and  the  Chris- 
tian beauty  of  his  domestic  life,  their  admiring  confidence  in 
him  grew  stronger  day  by  day.  The  East  and  the  West,  the 
North  and  the  South,  were  all  hoping  great  things  from  the 
four  years  of  his  administration.  But  on  the  second  of  duly- — 
two  days  less  than  four  months  from  his  inauguration — he  was 
mortally  wounded  by  an  assassin's  Indict;  and  as  the  intelli- 
gence was  flashed  from  the  capital,  the  whole  nation  was  aghast 
with  horror,  and  all  good  citi/ens  of  every  party  felt  that  they 
had  never  known  before  how  much  they  trusted  him  and  loved 
him.  Seventy-nine  days  hi>  constitutional  strength  of  body, 
sustained  by  his  heroic  will,  resisted  death;  and  then  he  died. 
Every  day  of  that  protracted  agony  had  endeared  him  to  the 
people,  for  the  whole  nation  was  watching  as  it  were  at  his  bed- 
side. A.8  they  saw  the  elforts  of  medical  science  and  surgical 
skill,  hope  alternating  with  discouragement — as  they  saw  that 
gentle  yet  strong-hearted  wife  nursing  her  hero,  suppressing  her 
tears  and  choking  down  her  anguish  that  she  might  cheer  him 
with  her  familiar  tones  and  smiles— as  they  saw  his  patience 
like  the  patience  of  a  martyr,  his  cheerful  trust  in  God,  his 
Christian  readiness  to  die—  they  loved  him  as  a  In-other:  manly 
voices  broke  at  the  mention  of  his  name;  thousands  even  of 
those  wdio  were  not  much  given  to  prayer  cried  :  Pray  for  him  ; 
and  when  he  died,  there  was  never  before  a  national  i>rief  so 
deep   and    80  wide.       Where,  between    the    two   oceans,  was   the 


HIS    LAST    SERMON.  L39 

man  who  did   not  feel  the  national   bereavement  as  a  persona] 
sorrow  '. 

This  national  calamity — this  unanimous  national  grief — is 
what  confronts  us  first  and  most  conspicuously  as  we  look  back 
upon  the  year.  Assembling  in  the  house  of  God  to-day,  we 
feel  that  it  i>  only  a  few  days  since  we  met  hereto  hear  our 
part  in  the  funeral  solemnity  so  far  away  ami  yet  so  near.  How 
can  we  keep  a  national  thanksgiving  under  so  dark  a  cloud? 
— Hbtb?  Have  we  never  .learned  that  Christian  song  which 
tells  as  that 


and  that 


God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way 
I  [is  wonders  to  perform," 

Behind  a  frowning  providence 
He  hides  ;\  smiling  face  "'.' 


Do  we  not  know  that  what  we  see  is  the  dark  side  of  the  cloud, 
and  that,  beyond  it  there  is  the  splendor  of  the  sky?  Nay,  do 
we  not  already  catch  some  glimpses  of  the  "silver  lining"? 
Do  we  not  see  the  cloud  breaking  and  its  edges  tinged  with 
gold  and  crimson  '. 

A  devout  man.  belies  ing  in  God's  father-care  over  him,  learns 
to  say,  in  view  of  remembered  disappointments  and  bereave- 
ments, "  It  was  good  for  me  to  be  afflicted,"  and  so  he  can  be 
thankful  even  for  the  discipline  of  sorrow.  May  not  God's 
••an-  for  the  welfare  of  a  favored  nation — not  less  than  his  lov- 
ing providence  over  his  individual  children,  manifest  itself, 
sometimes,  in  visitations  of  calamity  \  In  the  light  of  this  con- 
sideration let  us  think  of  how  God  has  been  dealing  with  i^  as 
a  nation  while  the  cloud  was  hanging  over  us. 

First,  then,  we  have  this  to  be  thankful  for  in  connection  with 
that  great  national  Borrow — the  call  to  prayer  was  n<»t  unheeded 
l.\  the  people.  <  >n  the  third  da\  of  July  last,  thai  apostolic 
direction  concerning  public  worship:  "  I  exhort  that,  first  ot  all. 
supplications,  prayers,  intercessions,  and  giving  ot  thanks,  be 
made  for  all  nun  :  for  kings  and  for  all  that  are  in  authority, 
that  we  max  lead  a  quiet  and  peaceable  lite  in  all  godliness 
and  honesty,"  was  observed,  and  it  has  been  observed  ever 
since  that  day,  as  I  think  it  iiad  not  been  observed  for  a  long 
time  previous.     I  have  had  occasion,  at  intervals  within  i  he  last 


1 |u  LEONARD   BACON. 

fifteen  years,  to  take  notice  of  the  facl  (as  others  nave  taken 
notice  of  ii  i  thai  when  our  worship  in  this  honse  <>n  the  Lord's 
dav  lias  been  led  1>\  occasional  preachers,  instead  of  being  led 
l>\  a  Pastor  in  charge  of  the  flock,  the  prayers  have  not  always 
made  mention  of  the  men  entrusted  with  authority  in  the  State 
and  in  the  Union,  [ndeed,  if  I  mistake  not,  prayer  for  the 
government  and  the  men  who  administer  it  —prayer  I'm-  the 
sovereign  people,  and  for  governors  and  others  commissioned 
by  the  people  to  administer  our  public  affairs  and  to  provide 
for  the  common  welfare— has  been  the  exception  rather  than 
the  rule  in  our  Lord's  day  assemblies;  I  cannot  but  think  that 
it  has  been  so  elsewhere,  and  too  generally  throughout  our 
country.  In  Protestant  Episcopal  congregations,  prayer  fur  the 
President  and  for  other-  in  authority  is  offered  every  Lord's 
•  day  through  the  year;  prayer  especially  for  Congress  whenever 
Congress  is  in  session.  The  same  sort  of  prayer  is  offered  in 
churches  of  other  names,  if  it  so  happens  that  the  minister  who 
conducts  the  worship  is  one  whose  ideas  and  ways  are  in  some 
degree  old  fashioned.  But  there  seem  to  he  some  ministers, 
and  I  fear  there  are  many,  who  are  hardly  aware  that  the  assem- 
bly on  the  Lord's  day  in  the  Lord's  house  is,  first  of  all,  an 
assembly  for  prayer,  and  still  less  aware  that,  of  all  prayer-meet- 
ings, that  meeting  of  the  church  and  of  all  who  join  with  it  in 
public  worship  ought  to  be  the  most  solemn  and  most  effective. 
Too  often  the  thought  seems  to  he  that  prayer  and  hymns  (and 
sometimes  perhaps  prayer  and  music)  are  appropriate  and  help- 
ful as  accessories  to  the  sermon,  and  that  the  people  come  to- 
gether as  hearers  only  rather  than  as  worshipers. 

But  on  that  third  day  of  .1  uly  last,  all  over  the  breadth  of  the 
continent,  the  feeling  in  every  congregation  was  that  they  had 
come  together  "firsl  of  all"  for  " supplications,  prayers,  inter- 
cessions;" and  that  they  must  pray  for  the  President  of  the 
United  States.  The  assassin's  shot  startled  the  nation  as  if  the 
apostolic  direction  about  public  worship  in  Christian  assemblies 
had  been  repeated  in  thunder.  Thenceforward,  week  after 
week,  while  the  lYeddent  lingered  between  life  ami  death — 
Sabbath  after  Sabbath  whether  it  was  the  Christian  Sabbath  or 
the  Jewish — prayer  went  up  in  his  behalf  from  all  assemblies. 
Whether  the  meeting-place  was  a  cathedral  or  a  cabin,  it  was 


HIS    LAST    SERMON.  141 

felt  to  be  a  place  for  prayer,  and  the  burthen  of  prayer  was 
everywhere  that  one  burthen  of  anxiety  and  sorrow  which  was 
on  the  heart  of  the  people. 

The  shook,  then,  which  went  through  the  nation  with  the 
report  of  that  murdering  pistol,  was  a  call  to  prayer,  and  the 
call  was  not  unheeded.  If  it  is  a  fact,  as  1  trust  it  is.  that,  in 
our  worshiping  assemblies,  both  ministers  and  people  have  been 
[earning  a  lesson  about  what  belongs  to  public  worship,  and 
that  henceforward  the  Sabbath  prayer  for  the  President  of  the 
[Tnited  States  ami  all  others  in  authority  shall  he  as  inseparable 
from  the  common  prayer  of  all  the  churches  as  it  is  from  the 
common  prayer  of  Protestant  Episcopal  congregations,  shall  we 
not  he  thankful  for  the  lesson  great  as  is  the  cost  of  it '. 

I  know  there  are  those  who  silently  or  openly  are  asking, 
What  i-  tht'  use  of  such  prayer?  The  thought  is  in  some 
hearts.  All  that  prayer  brought  hack  no  answer:  we  prayed, 
and  the  whole  nation  prayed  that  the  wounded  President  mighl 
live,  but  he'  is  dead,  and  what  was  the  use  of  all  that  prayer? 
WTiat  the  use  of  prayer !  That  is  an  old  question, — older  than 
the  hook  of  Job.  Long  before  any  prayer-guage  or  prayer-tesl 
was  thoughl  of,  a  certain  sort  of  men  could  say,  "What  is  the 
AJmighty  that  we  Bhould  Berve  him,  and  what  profit  should  we 
have  if  we  pray  to  him  '."     1  have  known   believing  soul-  who. 

though  they  could  not  leave  off  praying,  were  perplexed  by 
what  Beemed  to  them  the  inefficacy  of  their  prayers.  They  had 
prayed,  and  our  Father  who  is  in  heaven  had  not  given  them 
what    tlie\     desired    and    hoped    for.      Some    such,    perhaps,    are 

hereto-day,  perplexed  and  beclouded  with  speculations  about 
the  efficacy  of  prayer.  We  prayed,  they  are  saying  in  their 
heart.-  -  we  prayed,  and  tens  of  thousand-  joined  with  us  in  the 
prayer  thai  the  illustrious  sufferer  mighl  live;  hut  all  thai 
prayer  remains  unanswered,  he  i- dead  ;  what  profil  had  we? 
Bui  think.  <>  doubting  soul,  think!  What  is  prayer?  I-  it 
dictation?  or  supplication  ?  Does  it  command  God  whal  to  do 
and  what  to  refrain  from  doing;  or  doe-  it  how  down  before 
him  in  the  spirit  of  submission  to  his  will?  What  is  prayer 
I, nt  the  cry  of  dependent  mid  shorl  sighted  creatures  appealing 
t«,  the  infinite  love  and  the  infinite  wisdom  of  God  \  I-  it  your 
theory  that  your  prayer  is  unanswered  and  losl  unless  your 
it 


1  !■_'  LEONARD    U  \ru\. 

desire  and  your  wisdom  can  be  permitted  t<»  overrule  the 
counsels  of  God  I     Have  you  ;i  right  to  say  thai  your  prayer  is 

iu»t  heard  or  no1  answered,  it  it  does  qo1  suspend  the  operation 
of  those  physical  laws  and  forces  which  God  established  in  his 
work  of  creation,  and  by  which  he  rules  the  world  in  his  provi- 
dence? I  know  there  is  ;i  current  theory  which  implies  all 
this  —a  theory  by  which  religious  souls  are  often  darkened  and 
distressed,  ami  which  unbelievers  hold  when  they  would  en- 
courage themselves  and  others  in  an  atheist   life.     It   will  he  a 

great  thing  tor  the  health  of  the  churches  and  for  the  growth 
of  pure  and  true  religion  in  our  country,  if  this  greal  instance 
of  what  such  believers  and  such  unbelievers  call  unanswered 
prayer  shall  open  the  eves  as  well  as  hearts  of  all  Christian 
worshipers  to  that  other  and  true  theory  which  makes  absolute 
deference  to  God's  wisdom,  with  childlike  submission  to  his 
will,  an  essential  element  in  prayer.  Thus  it  was  that  Paul 
prayed  so  earnestly  and  persistently  for  relief  from  his  thorn  in 
his  flesh,  and  was  answered  by  the  promise  "  My  grace  is  suffi- 
cient, for  thee."  Thus  our  Lord  Jesus  prayed,  " 0  nay  father, 
if  it  he  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me;  nevertheless,  not  as 
I  will  hut  as  thou  wilt."  Often  the  (did  of  our  salvation 
answers  prayer  l'by  terrible  things  in  righteousness."  It  is 
mere  unbelief  to  say.  or  to  think,  that  the  prayer  of  this  nation 
for  its  wounded  and  dying  President  was  all  in  vain. 

Pet  us  then  hold  fast  our  faith  not  only  that  God  is.  hut  that 
he  is  a  rewarder  of  them  who  diligently  seek  him.  We  pray, 
"  Give  us  this  day  our.  daily  bread,"  and  it   is  our  privilege  to 

Bee  h\  faith  the  hand  that  feeds  us.  If  we  thus  pray,  our  daily 
dread  i-  God's  answer  to  our   daily  prayer.      True,  he    feeds  the 

ravens  also  that  have  not  sense  enough  to  pray,  and  he  feeds 
myriads  of  men  that  never  pray.  Put  those  men,  senseless  of 
God  as  the  ravens  are, five  on  a  lower  level  of  existence  than 
that  on  which  men  walk  with  God.  Here  is  the  true  idea  of 
prayer.  If  we  pray  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  prayer  brings  us 
into  communion  with  God  and  into  a  familiar  friendship  with 
him.  It  is  a  mi-take  to  think  that  an  oiithurst  of  religious 
feeling  or  any  glow  and  rapture  of  meditation  is  prayer.  The 
man  who  prays  has  something  to  a-k  for  business,  as  it  were, 
r,,  be  transacted  at  the  throne  of  grace.     He  has  need  of  God's 


His    last   SERMON.  143 

help  in  relation  to  this  life  and  in  relation  to  the  life  hereafter; 
he  has  work  to  do;  he  has  duties,  cares,  affections,  hopes  and 
fears;  and  he  brings  them  to  his  Father.  That  Father  knows 
him,  cares  for  him,  listens  to  him,  and  answers  him  with  bless- 
ings, (rod  is  his  friend,  is  with  him  in  his  daily  life,  is  taking 
care  that  all  things  shall  work  together  for  good  to  him.  God's 
friendship  is  worth  more  to  him  than  the  utmost  prosperity  of 
those  who  are  without  God  in  the  world  can  he  to  them. 

The  friendship  of  God  is  as  important  to  a  nation  as  to  an 
individual  or  a  family;  and  as  God  befriended  Israel  of  old.  so 
he  has  befriended  this  nation  hitherto.  And  may  we  not 
accept  it  as  a  token  of  his  friendship,  that  he  has  so  loudly  and 
sharply  roused  us  to  the  duty  and  the  privilege  of  prayer  for 
those  to  whom  the  great  trusts  of  government  arc  committed. 
That  sort  of  religion  which  is  too  spiritual  to  pray  for  anything 
so  mundane  and  secular  as  civil  government  in  the  State  and 
the  nation,  is  too  spiritual  for  this  world  of  work  and  conflict. 
Let  it  retreat  into  cells  and  cloister^  let  it  hide  itself  in  caves 
and  deserts;  hut  let.  us  have  a  religion  that  can  pray  a-  God 
would  have  as  pray  for  all  that  are  in  authority — for  the  sover- 
eign people,  for  the  President  as  the  prime  minister  of  that 
sovereign,  for  governor  and  legislators,  for  senators  and  judges. 
Wo  to  this  land  of  ours,  with  all  it>  riches  and  all  its  historic 
glory,  when  the  notion  shall  have  prevailed  that  government  in 
this  nation,  with  all  that  concerns  our  political  existence  and 
activity,  is  too  profane  a  thing,  too  much  within  the  jurisdiction 
of  the  god  of  this  world,  to  he  prayed  for  or  thought  of  in  the 
churches.  God  has  warned  u-  to  pray  and  faint  not.  Let  us 
he  thankful  tor  the  warning. 

Another  and  more  obvious  effect  of  our  national  Borrow  may 
well  he  regarded  a-  a  benefil  tor  which  the  nation  should  give 
thanks.  The  murder  of  the  President,  with  that  long  suspense 
between  the  shooting  and  the  death,  has  made  the  nation  more 
conscious  of  its  unitj  than  ever  before.  The  shock  of  that 
great  crime  was  fell  with  equal  horror  on  the  shore  of  either 
ocean,  and  through  all  the  States  from  the  northern  frontier  to 
the  southern.  It  was  fell  may  we  not  >a\  with  confidence 
and  therefore  with  thanksgiving ?  it  was  felt  not  more  in  New 
York  than  at    New   <  >rleail8,  not  more  in  Boston  than  in  (  'harle- 


I  It  LEON  \  i:n    BACON. 

ton,  qoI  more  in  Chicago  than  at  Mobile,  not  more  here  in 
\ (  u  Haven  than  in  Richmond.  Twenty  years  bad  passed 
since  the  outburst  of  a  civil  war  thai  was  to  dissolve  the  Union, 
and  sixteen  years  since  the  surrender  of  "  the  lost  cause."  The 
process  of  reconstruction  with  all  its  painful  and  exasperating 
incidents  had  been  completed.  The  South  and  the  North  were 
slowh  yet  manifestly  coming  into  relations  of  amity  and  mutual 

respect.       But  still  there  seemed  to  remain  some    hot    emhers    in 

the  ashes  of  old  enmity,  and  there  was  the  possibility  that  those 
embers  might  by  some  malignant  breath  of  faction  be  kindled 
into  page.  May  we  not  say  to-day  that  the  last  embers  of  enmity 
between  the  North  and  South  have  been  extinguished  in  the 
common  sorrow?  Among  the  people  who,  only  sixteen  years 
ago,  laid  down  their  amis  before  the  victorious  forces  of  the 
Union,  there  was  no  other  feeling  than  that  a  horrible  crime 
had  Keen  committed  against  them.  Thevr  President  had  Keen 
shot  and  not  merely  a  Northern  President;  the  horror  and  the 
-rief  were  theirs  and  not  ours  only.  The  negroes  of  the  South 
and  those  who  had  been  their  masters  mourned  together  and 
lifted  up  their  hands  in  prayer  with  one  accord.  In  the  first 
horror,  in  the  Long  anxiety,  in  the  national  grief  and  funeral, 
then-  was  an  awakened  consciousness — thrilling  from  the  North 
to  the  South  and  from  ocean  to  ocean — that  we  are  one  people. 
Thus  when  to  the  industrial  exhibition  in  the  chief  city  of 
( reorgia  there  came  the  products  of  the  South  and  tin-  machin- 
ery of  the  North,  all  saw.  all    felt,  and    all  rejoiced    to    feel    that 

in  this  great  Union  of  States  there  are  no  antagonist  interests ; 
that  the  prosperity  of  each  contributes  to  the  prosperity  of  all ; 

and  that  if  one  member  sutler  all  the  members  suffer  with  it. 

There  is  yet  another  consideration  pressing  upon  as.  ('an  we 
forget  the  expressions  of  international  regard  and  sympathy 
that  were  called  forth  by  our  affliction?  There  is  no  need  of 
my  telling  you  what  they  were.       Let  me    rather   ask.  What  did 

they  signify  '.  What  do  they  signify  to  us  as  we  remember 
them  \  When  the  sovereign  of  the  British  empir< — Queen  and 
Empresi — was  sending  her  messages  of  tender  and  anxious 
inquiry,  those  messages  told  us  indeed  that  "a  true  woman's 
heart  was  beating  under  the  royal  purple.'*  but  that  was  not  the 

Whole  significance    to    US.        When  all    the    potentates   of   Chris- 


ITTS    LAST    SERMON.  14.") 

tendon]  and  the  rulers  also  of  Mohammedan  and  pagan  empires 
sent,  through  their  embassador  and  minister,  the  homage  of 
their  sympathy,  what  was  the  reason,  what  the  signification  of 
the  fact  \  When,  at  the  telegraphic  announcement  of  the  death 
of  James  A.  Garfield,  the  bells  of  old  cathedrals  and  parish 
churches  in  England  and  Scotland  were  tolled  a-  if  responding 
to  the  bells  that  were  tolling  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic; 
when,  on  the  day  of  our  President's  funeral,  the  symbols  of 
mourning  were  hung  out  in  London  as  if  London  itself  were 
one  of  our  cities ;  when  that  widowed  Queen  (at  the  mention 
of  whose  name  American  hearts  reply  "God  bless  her"  more 
fervently,  perhaps,  than  if  there  had  never  been  a  Declaration 
of  Independence)  sent  her  loving  words  of  condolence  to  the 
widow  of  our  President  and  to  his  venerable  mother,  the  back- 
woods farmer's  widow;  what  was  the  meaning, to  us,  of  all  this 
international  sympathy  \ 

The  circle  of  a  hundred  years  has  just  been  completed  since 
that  surrender  which  ensured  and  virtually  certified  to  the 
world  the  independence  of  the  United  State-.  Between  that 
1 9th  of  October,  LY81,  which  saw  the  surrender  at  Yorktown, 
and  that  L9th  of  October,  t.881,  which  saw  our  national  salute 
to  the  imperial  flag  of  Great  Britain  oh  the  spot  where  it  had 
been  -truck  in  acknowledgment  of  defeat,  there  had  been  a 
century  of  progress.  International  animosities  are  losing  their 
old  bitterness.  International  sympathies  are  growing  stronger. 
We  Bee  this-  and  it  is  much  to  be  thankful  for — in  the  expres- 
sions of  regard  and  sympathy  which  have  come  to  as  in  our 
national  affliction.  But  we  cannot  fail  to  see  that  they  signify 
to  ii-  more  than  this.  The  feeble  Onion  of  thirteen  State-,  as 
the\  were  in  1781,  with  their  population  of  less  than  three  mil- 
lions scattered  along  the  Atlantic  coast,  lias  become  the  firmij 
compacted  Union  of  thirty-nine  State-  with  a  population  of  fift_\ 

millions.     We  have  be< e     let  u-  uol  say  //<•   foremost,  hut — 

one  of  the  foremost  power-  of  the  world.  All  nations  are 
looking  towards  as,  not  in  fear  (God  forbid  that  they  should 
have  reason  to  fear  as!)  bul  in  wonder  at  our  advancement  in 
population,  in  wealth,  in  all  the  elements  of  civilization,  and 
a-  they  look  the\  are  learning  how  greal  a  blessing  from  God  a 
government  like  our-  self-government  may  he  to  a  people 
capable  of  gelf-go^  eminent. 


I  l''>  LEON  \  RD    B  \<  ION. 

Remember,  then,  our  national  responsibility.  Thai  is  the 
thought  which  ends  my  sen  ice  here  to-day.  A  national  thanks- 
giving oughl  t<>  quicken  the  sense  "I  national  responsibility. 
\\  li;ii  the  twentieth  century,  now  drawing  near,  i>  ti>  be  for  the 
millions  upon  millions  thai  are  t<>  Inhabil  iliis  land  of  ours 
what  ii  i*-  to  be  for  tin'  whole  world — will  he  determined  largely 
by  what  fhc  people  <>t"  the  United  States  arc  and  what  they  do 
in  the  nineteen  years  that  arc  yet  to  he  numbered  in  the  nine- 
teenth centurj . 

In  that  national  responsibility  each  individual  citizen  has  his 

part. 


Rev.  Timothy  Dwight,  D.D. 

j i,  .,,-  Sir — The  officers  of  the  First  Church  and  Ecclesiastical  Society  in  New 
Haven  have  appointed  us  a  committee  to  thank  you  for  your  very  appreciative 
and  tender  address  delivered  at  the  funeral  of  our  late  Pastor,  Rev.  Leonard 
Bacon,  D.D..  and  to  request  a  copy  of  it  for  publication. 

We  are  with  great  respect  very  sincerely  yours, 

H.  <'.   Kixusxey, 
L.  J.  Sanford, 
T.  R.  Trow  brum  ;k.   Jr. 
New  Haven.  January  !■">. 


Messrs.  Henry  C.  Kingsley,  Leonard  J.  Sanford,  Thos.  R.  Trowbridge,  Jr. : 
Heme —  In  reply  to  yonr  kind  note  of  the  L5th,  allow  me  to  say  thai  it  is  a 
matter  of  much  gratification  to  me  to  know  that  the  words  which  were  spoken, 
from  the  depth  of  my  own  feeling,  al  the  funeral  of  Dr.  Bacon  were  such  as  to 
meet  the  approval  of  his  friends  in  the  church  ami  congregation  whose  pastorate 
he  held  for  so  many  years.     I:'  it  \\  ill  be  a  p  and  to  others  to 

rve  the  a. idn--  a-  a  memorial  of  the  friend  whom  we  all  bo  sincerely  love 

and  honor    I   shall  I"-  happy  to  place  it  in  your  hands  for  publication. 
With  much  respect,  I  am  yours  very  truly. 

Timothy  Dwight. 
New  Haven,  January  19,  1882. 


ADDRESS 

By  Prof.  Timothy   Dwight,  at  the  Funeral  of 
Rev.   Leonard  Bacon,  D.D. 


December  27,  1881. 


We  nicer  together,  this  afternoon,  as  a  company  of  friends 
— almost  as  the  members  of  a  single  family, — -that  we  may 
render  the  last  service  of  regard  and  kindly  affection  to  a  man 
who  ha.-  long  been  held  in  honor  by  as  all.  We  meet  in  this 
House  of  Public  Worship,  rather  than  at  his  own  home. 
because  no  private  dwelling  could  receive  within  its  walls  the 
large  aumbers  who,  by  reason  of  his  departure  from  among  ns, 
arc  tilled  with  ;i  sense  of  personal  bereavement,  and  because  it 
seems  fitting  that  one  who  has  for  so  many  years  borne  witness 
here   tor  the   truth  and  for  Grod  should    be  carried  to  his  burial 

fr this  consecrated  place.     Bui  we  do  not  meet  for  the  utter- 

ance  and   hearing  of  formal  eulogy,  <>r  for  the  minute  Betting 

forth  of  those  events  and  works  which  have  made  his  career  so 
remarkable.  A  time  lor  this  will  he  asked  for,  and  will  be 
found,  by  the  community  when,  the  firsl  freshness  of  our  grief 
having  passed  away,  we  may  he  able  more  calmly  ami  thought- 
fully t<>  estimate  what  he  was  and  what  he  did.  A  great  man 
and   a   (rood    man.  such  an  one  as  does  not  often  live  in  any 

city,  large  or  -mall.      the  full  narrative  of    hi.-  life,   whether  told 

l,\  - i  competenl  and   loving  fellow-worker  in  the  good  cause 

here  to  aii  assembly  of    hi-    townsmen,    or    recorded  in  a   volume 

which  m;i\  bear  to  other  regions  ami  another  generation  the 
knowledge  of  hi-  character  and   hi-  influence,  cannol  hut  he  a 


I  .'hi  LEON  \i;i>    B  \<  <>\. 

blessing  to  ever}  one  to  whose  serious  reflection  it  may  presenl 
itself,  li  would  be  a  loss  indeed,  it'  the  story  were  not,  a1 
some  earh  moment,  to  be  thus  given  to  the  world.  To-day, 
however,  we  only  speak  to  one  another  as  if  a  sorrowing  house- 
hold, sorrowing  mosl  of  all  for  the  word  which  we  have  heard, 
thai  we  shall  see  his  face  no  more.  Our  thoughts  are  voiced, 
as  it  were,  in  a  half-suppressed  whisper  of  affection  ami  grate- 
t'ul  memory  in  the  very  presence  of  the  "lead.  They  arc 
spoken  by  one  of  the  company  to  the-  rest,  in  the  few  moments 
before  we  >av  our  last  farewell  at  his  open  grave.  They  can 
not  review  the  past  history.  They  musl  be  imperfeel  even  as 
related  to  the  fullness  of  what  we  feel.  The  talk  by  the  tire- 
side  on  many  a  Sunday  evening  in  our  several  homes;  the 
tender  recollections  in  many  an  hour  of  converse  with  our  own 
minds,  these  alone  will  complete  the  picture  to  each  one 
among  us  of  the  friend  who  has  just  left  the  things  that  are 
seen  for  those  that  are  unseen.  Ami  vet — as  in  the  family 
circle— we  cannot  help  recalling,  even  at  this  hour,  some  traits 
of  his  character,  and  asking  the  questions,  What,  of  the  past, 
and  What  of  the  future  \ 

Our  friend  who  has  now  finished  bis  earthly  work  was  a  man 
of  varied  power-  and  of  admirable  qualities,  both  of  mind  and 
heart.  He  was  made  by  nature  on  a  grand  scale.  We  who 
knew  him  as  a  fellow-citizen  and  a  friend  came  to  understand 
this  more  ami  more  fully  as  the  years  passed  on.  Those,  also, 
who  merely  -aw  his  face,  and  heard  of  him  or  from  him  in 
other  place-,  were  impressed  by  the  same  thought.  No  man 
could  read  a  page  of  his  writings  or  listen  to  one  of  his  more 
powerful  discourses,  without  having  some  true  appreciation  of 
his  extraordinary  ability.  We  have  often  said  this,  as  we  have 
,-poken  alioul  him  in  the  past.  We  -ay  it  again,  and  with  a 
deeper  sense  of  it>  truth,  if  possible,  at  this  hour.  And  why 
should  we  not  allude  to  it  even  here,  as  his  mortal  part  still  lies 
before  us.      It    i-  not   as   praise  to  him   that  it  come.-  to  our  lips 

'which.    ;it    SUch   a   time,    he   might   wish   to    he   left    II  lie\  pre-.-cd  i. 

hut  a-  a   grateful    remembrance  for  ourselves.     These  powers 
and   qualities   made   up  the   life  of  the  man.     They  rendered 

him   what   he  was  to  our  thought.      They  will  c;iu.-e    him  to  lie  ;i 
living  influence  \<>f  us  in  the  future. 


FUNERAL   SERMON.  151 

A.-  I   bring  him  once  more  before  my  mind,  he  appears  as  a 

man  of  wonderful  memory;  of  clear  perception  of  truth;  of 
that  Logical  power  which  belongs,  not  indeed  to  the  authors  of 
systems  of  philosophy,  but  to  the  ablest  advocates  in  the  con- 
flicts of  thought;  of  wide  and  comprehensive  mental  grasp;  of 
;i  rhetorical  .-kill  and  culture  characteristic  of  the  best  writers 
of  <>ur  language;  of  an  uncommon  poetic  sense  and  feeling;  of 
such  extraordinary  suggestiveness  and  fertility  in  ideas,  that  his 
mind  could  never  lie  inactive  or  at  rest;  of  so  exquisite  humor 
that  it  was  a  continual  charm  to  listen  to  Ins  conversation:  of  a 
native  dignity  of  expression  which  everywhere  compelled 
respect;  of  a  beautiful  combination  of  intellectual  vigor  and 
tender  feeling.  I  low  often  have  we  found  him,  when  questions 
of  the  past  were  before  us,  ready  to  bring  forth  from  the  store- 
house of  his  recollections  those  minute  details  and  that  fresh- 
ness of  living  fact  which  contain  within  them  the  reality  of 
history.  lie  seems,  from  his  earliest  years,  to  have  seized  upon 
all  that  he  heard  from  persons  who  were  older  than  himself, 
and  to  have  laid  it  aside  in  his  mind  for  use  at  any  moment. 
His  remembrance  was  in  this  way  prolonged,  if  we  may  so 
express  it.  over  a  period  of  half  a  century  or  more  before,  the 
time  of  his  birth.  It  was  thus  enabled  to  realize  for  himself 
and  for  u>  the  earlier  life  of  New  England,  and  in  a  high 
degree  that  of  the  city  where  he  and  we  have  found  our  home. 
His  reading,  also,  carried  him  back  into  the  more  distant  past. 
Men-,  again,  the  accuracy  of  memory  brought  everything  into 
hie  lasting  possession.  He  was  an  authority  with  regard  to  his 
torical  facts  and  date-.  He  had  a  most  lively  interest  in  all  that 
was  interesting  in  ever)  period  and  in  every  land.  He  com- 
prehended and  entered  sympathetically  into  the  struggles  of 
other  ages,  and.  while  he  lived  with  an  enthusiasm  tor  the  pres- 
ent  beyond  thai  of  mosl  men  who  know  little  of  what  is  he- 
hind  it.  he  fired  the  energies  of  his  spirit  by  the  example  of 
the  heroes  and  martyrs  of  liberty  and  of  faith.  I  am  Bure  thai 
the  men  who  fought  lor  their  rights  againsl  tyranny  and  op 
pression  in  England  two  centuries  ago  and  more  would  have 
recognized  him  a-  a  kindred  spirit,  and  would  have  seen  in 
him.  a-  he  carried  on  the  conflict  in  this  later  day,  the  influence 
of  their  own  live-.     Truly,  we  have  lo-t  iii  hi-  dying  much  of 


I  52  LEON  WM>    !'■  ICON. 

the    past;    much    which    had   been    within   Ins  own  experience 
much  more  which  was  so  made  ;i  reality  through  his  memory  "l 
what  he  had  heard  and  read,  thai  il  seemed  as  if  he  must  have 

experienced  it.  I  feel  that  the  world  lias,  in  a  certain  sense, 
grown  younger  to  us  all  than  il  was  a  few  days  ago,  from  the 
passing  away  of  what  was  in  his  recollection. 

Mow  quickly,  also,  his  mind  moved,  lie  had  more  new  and 
fresh  thoughts  in  a  day,  we  may  almost  say,  than  most  men. 
even  men  of  culture,  have  in  a  week.  I  never  knew  a  mind 
more  rich  in  ideas,  more  constantly  active,  more  awake  in  every 
direction,  more  ready  to  effervesce  and  scintillate  with  bright 
thoughts,  when  aroused  by  the  exei'temenl  of  intelligent  con- 
versation. As  St.  Paul's  ideas  seem  to  have  pressed  for 
utterance,  oftentimes,  more  rapidly  than  the  pen  of  his  amanu- 
ensis could  record  them,  so  in  the  Case  of  our  friend  I  have 
sometimes  felt  that  the  mind  was  unable  to  contain  all  that  was 
in  it,  and  that,  as  he  poured  forth  his  thought  in  its  abundance, 
he  was,  as  it  were,  only  thinking  aloud.  lie  was  not.  however, 
like  some  men,  a  constant  talker.  lie  could  he  silent  in  the 
contentment  of  his  own  meditation  as  easily  as  he  could  speak. 
But  he  needed  only  to  he  stimulated  by  the  presence  and  dis- 
cussion  of  cultivated  friends,  and  his  mind  opened  at  once  in 
every  beautiful  way.  The  rich  resources  of  memory,  the  pre- 
cision of  his  thinking,  the  play  of  keen  wit.  the  love  of  truth, 
the  purity  of  sentiment,  the  facility  of  language,  which  were 
characteristic  of  him.  all  combined  to  make  the  expression  of 
hi-  thoughts  delightful  to  the  hearer. 

There  are  few  persons  within  the  circle  of  our  knowledge] 
am  confident,  who  exhibit  in  their  style  so  much  of  rhetorical 
finish  and  of  the  purest  English  expression.  Every  sentence, 
whether  written  or  spoken,  appeared  to  fall,  as  by  a  natural 
law.  into  the  proper  order  and  to  assume  a  rich  musical  charac- 
ter, kindred  even  to  that  which  has  given  to  the  English  version 
of  th«-  Scriptures  such  power  over  multitudes  of  minds.  It  was 
this,  in  a  large  measure,  together  with  bis  appreciative  sense  of 
what  was  fitting,  which  made  u>  all  trust  him  in  an\  emergency 

to    say  the    right   word-    in    the    righl    way.       What  a  sweet    and. 
-oleum  -train,  a-  if  coming  down    the  ages  from  the  times  even 
,,f    the    old     prophet,-,    there    wa>     in      his     prayer-.        What    a 


II   XKKAI,    SERMON.  Lo3 

measured  eloquence  in  his  best  discourses  from  tihe  pulpit,  and 
in  his  orations  on  the  memorial  and  festive  days  of  the  com- 
monwealth. What  a  charming picturesqueness  when  he  told  of 
the  simple  life  of  our  grandfathers  or  of  the  trying  times  of  our 
Revolutionary  history.  We  turned  to  him,  as  by  a  unanimous 
impulse,  whenever  the  spirit  of  patriotism  was  to  he  tired,  or 
the  gratitude  of  the  people  to  God  for  our  national  blessings 
was  to  find  its  hot  expression,  because  we  knew  that  his  words 
would  be  fitly  spoken — would  be,  in  the  language  of  the  Old 
Testament  writer,  like  apples  of  gold  in  pictures  of  silver. 
The  grand  march  of  the  ages  appears  also  in  some  of  his 
hymns,  as  in  that  which  opens  with  the  words, 

■■  1 1  God,  beneath  thy  guiding  hand, 

Our  exiled  fathers  crossed  the  sea: 
\nd  when  they  trod  the  wintry  strand. 

With  prayer  and  psalm  they  worshipped  thee," 

and  the  true  poetic  and  tender  emotion,  which  were  SO  marked 
in  hie  nature,  manifests  itself  in  others,  such  as  that  whose 
beginning  i>, 

"Weep  qoI  for  the  saint  that  ascends 
To  partake  of  the  joys  of  the  sky." 

or  the  hymn  for  the  evening  twilight, 

"  Hail  tranquil  hour  of  closing  day.' 

This  last-mentioned  characteristic  of  his  mind  was  most  beau- 
tifully exhibited-  as  bo  many  here  present  know  better  than 
any  one  can  tell  them — in  those  seasons  of  sorrow  when  he  was 
called,  in  the  households  of  his  people,  to  do  for  the  dead  what 
we  are  now  doing  for  him.      I  shall  never  forge!  tin-  pathos,  and 

( Ihristian  tenderness,  and  sweel  utterance  of  hope  and  confidence 
with  whieh  he  guided  our  thoughts  along  the  uncertain  future 
ol  life,  and  to  the  Kingdom  of  God  in  heaven,  as  we  were  cele- 
brating the  Lord'-  Supper  in  the  Divinity  School  at  the  close 
of  the  lasl  college  year.  It  was  at  about  that  time  that  the 
tir-t  warnings  were  given  to  his  mind  that  he  mighl  ere  long 
he  called  away  to  another  lib',  and  he  may  have  been  thinking 
then  of  wlut  has  now  been  realized. 

With  what    brilliancy  of    intelligence,  what    Btrength  of  clear 

reasoning,  what   effectiveness  of   wit.  what    manliness  of   \'\-{-{> 

debate,   he  r,  >n  t  en<  le<  I    for  righteOUSneSS  ami    truth,  when   the   hat 


I. Y|  LEON  \KI>    BACON. 

tie  was  raging  around  him.  There  have  heen  few  statesmen  in 
the  country  who  have  sounded  the  clarion  notes  so  often  as  he 
has  done.  There  are  man\  in  this  house  who  recall  the  old 
days  of  the  contesl  between  the  slave  power  and  the  free  in  our 
nation,  especially  in  the  later  stages  of  i1  :  and  where  in  all  the 
land  is  there  a  more  conspicuous  figure,  rising  before  our  inem- 
on  of  thai  warfare,  than  tins  honored  man  whom  we  bury 
to-day  I  lit-  would  have  accomplished  the  end  by  peaceful 
measures,   if  he  could.     But   when   he  saw    that   there  was  no 

peace  thai  there  was  to  he  and  1 1 1 list  he  a  war  of  ideas,  he 
threw  himself  with  energy  and  with  eloquence  into  the  strife. 
And  when  the  conflict  of  argument  was  followed  by  the  war  of 
arms,  his  voice  and  his  heart  were  wholly  ami  constantly  for 
the  country  until  the  hour  when  victory  was  secured  for  the 
right.  lie  was  a  true  patriot.  It  has  heen  said  that  his  writ- 
ings established  Abraham  Lincoln  in  his  opposition  to  the 
slave-system  ;  and  thus  we  may  gain  some  estimate  of  what  he 
accomplished  for  the  good  cause.  We  speak  in  his  praise,  at 
this  hour,  for  what  he  did  in  those  days  now  happily  gone  into 
the  past.  But,  when  we  arc  thinking  of  him'  as  a  man.  we 
rej«»iee  that  anion--  the  grounds  of  our  admiration  and  our 
friendship  are  the  powers  of  heart  and  mind  which  made  him, 
then  and  always,  what  Fie  was  in  the  warfare  for  the  truth. 

In  his  stormiest  conflict  with  the  enemies  of  right  and  the 
common  weal,  however,  I  do  not  helieve  that  our  venerated 
friend  had  any  personal  bitterness.  He  had  a  deep  sense  of 
righteousness,  a  strong  conviction  of  the  truth.  But  his  oppo- 
sition was  to  what  was  false  and  wrong.  If  was  not  a  private 
hostility.  He  was  a  genuine  lover  of  freedom.  He  had  the 
courage  of  a  soldier  when  he  had  once  committed  himseli  to 
the  battle.  He  even  gloried  in  being  presenl  in  the  thickest  oi 
the  fight,  with  all    its   excitement    and    its    danger.      Vet    it   was 

the  cause  thai  he  fought  for,  not  his  own  reputation.  He  was 
as  little. inspired  by  selfishness  or  ignoble  feeling  as  any  man 
whom  I  have  ever  met. 

In  the  conflicts  on  less  vital  subjects  than  the  one  just  men- 
tioned, it  ha-  often  been  the  play  and  force  of  his  intellect 
alone  which  have  heen  engaged.  He  was  always,  no  doubt,  a 
formidable  controversialist.     He  rejoiced  in  debate  and  discus- 


FUNEBAL   SERMON.  155 

sion,  and  was  ready  for  it  at  any  moment.  But  he  was  by  do 
mean-  a  passionate,  or  a  jealons,  or  in  any  war  a  bad-hearted 
opponent.  He  never  desired  to  do  evil  to  another.  He  never 
cherished  the  remembrance  of  evil  inflicted  by  another  upon 
himself.  He  never  waited  and  watched  for  an  hour  of  requi- 
tal or  revenge.  For  sixteen  years  my  associate  professors  in 
the  Divinity  School  and  myself  have  had  the  most  constant 
opportunities  for  the  closest  intercourse  with  him  ;  and  it  is  our 
united  and  joyful  testimony,  as  it  is  that  of  his  two  colleagues  in 
the  pastorate,  that  we  have  never  had  the  acquaintance  of  a  man 

of  Qobler  temper,  of  more  kindly  nature,  of  a  -e  beautiful 

spirit  as  related  to  fellow-workers,  of  more  freedom  from  sus- 
piciousness "i-  jealousy  of  other  men,  of  larger-heartedness — a 
man,  in  a  word,  to  whom  we  could  give  our  affection  and 
esteem  more  willingly  than  to  him.  And  though  lie  doe>  not 
need  our  testimony  where  he  i>  revered  by  every  one.  as  he  is 
in  New  Haven,  it  is  a  satisfaction  tons  to  give  it,  as  we  rind 
ourselves  bereft  of  his  presence  for  all  the  future  of  our  lives. 
The  A  postle  John  i>  called  a  Sou  of  Thunder  in  the  gospel  by 
St.  Mark.  To  some  it  has  appeared  strange  that  such  a  man 
could  afterward-  become  the  gentle,  loving  disciple  who  leaned 
upon  the  breast  of  Jesus,  and  who.  in  hi.-  latesl  days,  made  it 
the  burden  of  hia  exhortation  to  his  Christian  brethren,  thai 

they  should  love  one  another.  In  the  case  of  the  friend  whose 
loss  we  mourn  to-day,  it  was  the  heat  of  the  conflict  and  the 
zeal   tor  the  truth  (as  il    may  have  been  in   the  apostle's  early 

days),  which    made    him  to  the  view  of    many,  a  man    of    hitter 

hostility.     But  i:  was  only  the  armor  and  the  smoke  of  the  hat- 
tie,  which  were  concealing  the  man-.       How  (dearly,  in  these  >i\ 
teen  years  of    which    I    have    Bpoken,  the    reality  of    the    nature 

has  shone  forth,  and   has  proved  that  the  combatant,  who  was 

full  of  the  BOldiei^S  -pil'it   as  he  fought    for  the  cause,  was  at    the 

same  momenl  abounding  in  kindliness  ami  love  towards  all 
men.  How  plainly,  also,  those  years  of  intercourse  with  him 
have  manifested  to  n>  who  looked  upon  his  daily  life  I  he  loving 
character  of  his  personal  relation  to  the  Master,  tie  was  like 
Peter  and  Paul  in  his  labors,  his  energy,  his  earnestness,  his 
ability  and  readiness  to  sound  the  notes  of  battle;  hm  in  hia 
own  soul's  life  he  had  much  of  the  simplicity  and  beaut)  of 
the  Johannean  h>\ e  to  ( Ihrist. 


1  5ti  LEON  UiD    BACON. 

Our  honored  Friend  was  magnanimous;  he  was  generous  5  lie 
was  always  disposed  to  aid  in  any  work  in  which  lie  wan 
engaged  with  associates;  lie  had  no  desire  to  take  away  from 
the  honor  or  reward  of  others  in  order  to  increase  his  own  ;  he 
was  a  hearts  believer  in  the  powers  and  capabilities  of  young 
men,  and  was  hopeful  for  them  ;  he  was  ever  a  promoter  and 
advocate  of  the  highesl  well-being  of  the  community.  He  had 
the  kindly  instincts  of  a  true  gentleman,  lie  had  the  trustful, 
serious,  self-sacrificing,  devoted,  manly,  godly  spirit  of  a  sincere 
<  Ihristian. 

How  much  he  did  for  New  Haven  can  be  measured  and  esti- 
mated best  by  observing  what  a  place  he  holds  in  the  regard  of 
hi>  fellow  citizens,  and  what  weight  has.  for  these  many  years. 
been  given  by  them  to  his  opinions  and  his  words.  He  has 
been  identified  with  the  life  of  the  city  for  half  a  century.  Its 
interests  have  been  near  to  his  thoughts  and  to  his  heart.  His 
energies  and  his  wisdom  have  responded  to  its  call  whenever 
they  were  needed.  It  has  been  an  interesting  sight  to  see  him, 
in  his  later  life,  as  he  walked  about  the  streets.  Others  have 
spoken  to  me  of  it,  and  I  have  often  thought  of  it  myself,  as  a 
noble  element  in  our  life  here,  that  a  man  like  him  who  has 
contended  for  more  than  a  generation  against  evil,  and  in  the 
name  of  God  has  warned  and  rebuked  evil-doers, — a  man  who 
has  had  no  favors  to  ask  or  to  give,  but  who  has  simply  tried 
to  do  the  Great  Master's  work  and  to  speak  for  him,  no  matter 
who  opposed  or  threatened, — should  have  been  able  to  gather 
around  himself  at  the  end  the  veneration  of  men  of  every  part) 
in  Church  and  State,  of  the  poor  and  the  rich  alike,  of  the  for- 
eign citizen  as  well  as  the  one  horn  upon  the  soil,  and  should  pass 
the  bright  and  lovely  evening  of  his  lifetime  without  an  enemy. 
I  am  glad  that  our  eye;-  have  been  permitted  to  witness  this 
sight,  and  that  the  city  of  our  abode  has  this  honor  for  itself . 

The   n; •   of    Leonard    Bacon   will    surely    be   always   enrolled 

among  the  number  of  those  to  which  the  highest  place  is  as- 
signed in  the  history  of  New  Haven. 

Our  friend's  career  had  a  remarkable  completeness.  He  had 
lived  beyond  the  ordinary  limits  of  human  life,  and  in  two 
month-  more  would  have  seen  hie  eightieth  birthday.  And  all 
the  rears  from  childhood  onward  were  full  of  work.     From  his 


FUNERAL   SERMON.  l.">7 

early  maturity,  even  from  his  college  days,  he  won  the  esteem 
of  all  who  knew  him  best,  both  for  his  mental  power  and  his 
moral  excellence.  At  the  age  of  twenty-three,  when  most 
young  men  are  still  in  the  work  of  preparation,  he  was  called  to 
the  pastorate  of  this  Church  of  Christ.  Though  scarcely  more 
than  a  boy  in  years,  he  proved  himself  t<>  be  no  unworthy  suc- 
cessor of  the  ablest  men  who  had  preceded  him.  He  took  a 
high  rank  as  a  preacher,  and  as  a  man  he  was  among  those 
whose  power  was  felt  throughout  the  community  and  the  com- 
monwealth. For  fortv  years,  a  period  as  important  as  any  in 
the  country's  history,  he  labored  in  this  office,  giving  his  daily 
service  to  his  people,  hut  striving  for  the  good  cause,  also,  in 
the  regions  beyond.  lie  worked  steadily  onward  until  he  had 
survived  the  older  generation  to  whom  he  ministered  at  first, 
and  then  he  handed  on  the  message  of  the  Gospel  to  their  chil- 
dren, and  even   their  grandchildren.     But  he  lost  none  of  his 

Btrength   ami   ardor  a.-  ti passed   away.      For  a  great  many 

years  before  he  laid  aside  his  active  work  here,  he  was  the  most 
conspicuous  leader  in  the  Congregational  ministry,  while  none 
in  any  branch  of  the  Church  held  a  more  prominent  place. 
He  made  this  Church  to  he  known  and  honored  everywhere. 
At  the  end  of  thi>  extended  period  he  said  to  his  people  that 
he  had  served  them  long  enough  for  their  highest  well-being, 
and  asked  them  to  give  the  work  ami  the  responsibility  of  his 
office  to  another.  Then  he  devoted  himself  with  all  the  enthu- 
siasm ot  youth  to  a  new  employment.  He  became  a  teacher  of 
Doctrinal  Theology,  a  successor  in  the  Divinity  School  of  our 
University  of  the  distinguished  divine  whom  he  had  also  fol- 
lowed in  the  pastorate.  In  tin-  new  position  he  found  delight- 
ful occupation.  He  gave  to  hi,-  pupil- the  fruits  of  his  long 
years  ot'  thought  and  of  learning,  and  he  ever  kept  his  mind 
open  to  the  truth.  W'hfii  this  position  was  subsequently  filled, 
in  accordance  with  hi-  own  view-,  by  the  gentleman  who  now 
holds  it.  In'  took,  at  t  he  urgent  request  of  his  colleagues,  another 
chair  of  instruction.  To  ten  successive  classes  of  students  he 
ha-  lectured  upon  Church  Polity  and  American  Church  His- 
tory, subjects  respecting  which  lie  was  as  well  qualified  to  com- 
municate valuable  knowledge  as  an}  man  in  the  country.  Mis 
work   in   this   lectureship  continued   t"   the  latesl  moment.     I 

L2 


I  ;,s  LEONARD    BAl'ON. 

found  liini  ..ii  Thursday  afternoon  of  lasl  week  giving  the  con- 
cluding lecture  of  the  term,  and  before  the  sun  liad  risen  on 
iht.  -re. .ml  morning  afterwards  his  life  on  earth  was  over. 

Success  and  honor  attended  him  in  both  spheres  of  his  activ- 
ity from  the  beginning  to  the  ending.  He  had  the  conscious- 
ness that  be  \\a>  doing  good  Bervice,  which  would  be  lasting  in 
its  influence,  both  in  this  ( Jhurch  and  in  our  Theological  School. 
To  whal  be  bas  done  for  the  former  the  Christian  knowledge 
and  Christian  thoughl  of  many  among  the  living  and  the  dead 
have  borne  witness  in  the  past.  The  Christian  life  itself  in 
others  has  owed  its  beginning  to  his  teaching  and  his  prayers. 
Even  in  these  declining  years  of  Ins  old  age,  he  lias  almost 
resumed  the  duties  of  its  pastor  and  has  thus  centralized  its 
Church  life  in  himself  in  no  small  degree.  His  work  in  the 
School  of  Theology,  <>n  the  other  hand,  is  well  known  to  Ids 
associates  and  to  mai>v  of  its  friends.  For  his  efforts  to  estab- 
lish the  school  on  the  host  foundations,  and  to  give  it  its 
highest  efficiency  and  an  honorable  fame,  the  churches 
throughout  the  land  may  well  be  grateful  to  G-od.  For  his 
instructions  and  his  personal  influence  more  than  three  hun- 
dred ministers  now  in  the  work  of  the  Gospel  in  different 
parts  of  the  country  and  the  world  remember  him  with  un- 
feigned regard,  while  they  all  have  a  tender  feeling  towards 
him  as  a  venerated  father  and  friend. 

The  greal  causes  for  which  he  has  labored  have  always  been 
good  one-  als...  and  to  a  remarkable  degree  his  efforts  have 
Keen  manifestly  attended  with  good  results.  He  has  rejoiced 
for  years  in  the  victory  of  freedom  and  of  the  cause  of  the 
Union,  for  which  he  strove  so  long  and  so  well.  His  mind 
which  has  had  such  extraordinary  interest  in  the  progress  of 
the  world,  has  been  granted  the  vision  of  the  wonderful  things 
both  for  science  and  for  Christianity  accomplished  in  our 
generation.  He  has  passed  his  lifetime  in  an  intellectual 
circle  and  in  a  cultivated  city.  He  has  known  the  greatesl 
earthlj  blessing  a  happy  home,  sacred  in  its  joys,  and  equally 
aacred  in  it-  sorrows.  He  has  >n'\\  his  children  grow  up 
around  him  and  find  for  themselves  spheres  of  usefulness  and 
honor,  while  their  children  also  have  added  to  the  comfort  and 
satisfaction  of  his  old  age.     He  has  been  perinitted  to  behold 


II  NKKAI.    SERMON.  I  .'.'.I 

the  sunlight  of  heaven  shining  along  his  pathway,  as  the  end 
of  liis  earthly  pilgrimage  began  to  draw  nearer.  He  has  had 
the  privilege  of  working  to  the  last,  with  all  the  freshness  of 
his  mental  vigor  and  all  the  buoyancy  of  an  ardent  soul,  lie 
has  died  almost  in  a  moment,  and  almost  without  a  struo-gle. 
Bappy  life,— we  say  to  one  another. — who  could  have  wished 
it  to  he  otherwise  in  its  progress  or  in  its  closing? 

The  closing  was  at  the  hour  of  earliest  dawn  on  Saturday 
last.  It  was  a  falling  asleep,  as  we  call  it.  But  the  sleep  was 
only  of  the  bodily  powers.  The  active  spirit  passed  at  that 
moment  beyond  our  earthly  vision  to  its  home.  As  the  tidings 
came  to  as  so  suddenly,  I  could  not  but  ask  myself  in  the  hours 
that  immediately  followed.  What  is  the  new  experience  through 
which  he  is  now  going?  We  often  think  of  the  great  account 
and  the  solemn  judgment  when  life  i»  ended  ;  and  even  serious 
mind  must  feel  the  influence  of  this  coming  scene  as  giving  to 
all  that  we  do  here  ;i  deep  significance.  But,  as  I  tried  to  pic- 
ture to  myself  the  beginning  of  the  new  state  of  existence  for 
our  venerated  friend,  in  those  first  hours,  I  could  not  help 
thinking  that  the  judgment  was  found  in  his  cast-  to  he  all  com- 
prehended in  a  Father's  welcome  to  the  heavenly  house.  May 
we  not  believe  that  dying  was  to  him  hut  the  closing  of  his 
eyes  to  the  familiar  surroundings  of  the  home  in  which  he  had 
lived  bo  long  and  so  happily,  and  the  opening  them  a  single 
moment  afterward  to  the  other  home  beyond  our  sight;  and. 
thus,  that  there  was  do  interval  or  waiting. 

Every  sudden  death  brings  the  unseen  world  very  ©lose  to  our 
thought,  and  Beems  to  show  us  that  it  is  only  a  thin,  though  im- 
penetrable, veil  that  separates  life  here  from  life  there.  Bui 
when  we  find  n  man  like  him  whose  departure  from  as  we  now 
mourn  dying  so  suddenly,  we  are  almosl  forced  to  think  that 
any  break  or  interruption  in  the  menial  ami  spiritual  work  i>  im- 
possible. Our  friend.  .,n  the  lasl  evening,  was  engaged  in  the 
preparation  of  a  paper  upon  one  of  the  vital  questions,  of  our 
national  life,  lie  left  it  lying  "ii  hi-  table  unfinished,  as  he 
retired  to  real  for  the  night.  It  was,  like  bo  many  that  he  had 
written  before,  a  discussion  of  an  evil  which  has  long  disgraced 
the  nation,  and  was  designed  to  inspire  the  public  mind  with 
right  ideas,  and  t<>  help,  in  some  measure,  towards  a  good  result. 


NEON  \  Kl'    ft  U'ON. 


Iii  the  morning,  instead  of  returning  to  his  study  table  and  re- 
suming lii-  work,  as  he  had  expected  to  do,  he  saw  the  veil  part- 
ing asunder,  and,  in  answer  to  a  call  from  the  Divine  Master,  he 
entered  within  it.  And  then  il  closed  behind  him.  Thai  was 
all.  Surety  we  mus1  believe  thai  in  thai  other  room,  or  other 
home,  he  found  another  work  all  ready  for  him  to  begin,  and 
thai  he  at  once  turned  to  if ;  employing  now  his  unwearied  and 
widely-ranging  powers,  nol  indeed  in  the  removing  oi  evil,  for 
this  no  longer  manifests  its  presence,  bu1  in  some  line  of  303 
and  blessing,  in  some  service  of  love  and  good-will.  ^  esterday, 
;lt  home  in  the  body,  and  therefore  absent  from  the  Lord.  To- 
day, absent  from  the  body  and  at  home  with  the  Lord.  What 
a  wonderful — what  a  wonderfully  blessed  experience!.    Who  of 

US  would  ii"t  wish  for  the  saint'  experience  for  himself,  when 
the  end  conies  I  The  dying  of  our  friend  seems  little  like  death. 
It  seems,  rather,  like  what  St.  Paul  speaks  of  when  he  says  in 
such  expressive  language,  " That  which  is  mortal   is  swallowed 

up  of  life." 

I  think  of  OUT  honored   friend,  once   more,  as   he   comes    into 
The  society  of  kindred  souls  in  that  other  life.      What    does   the 

heavenly  vision  reveal  to  us  %  A  mind  like  his,  which  has  so 
realized  the  life  of  other  times  within  itself,  must,  as  it  would 
seem  now  tind  itself  associated  with  the  perfected  spirits  of  the 
early  Christian  fathers  of  our  own  city  and  New  England— 
with  men  like  Hooker  and  Davenport  and  Pierpont  and  Brews- 
ter. It  must  he  brought  into  union  with  the  heroes  of  civil  and 
religious  liberty  who  struggled  for  the  good  cause  in  former 
ages  and  generations  in  this  or  other  lands,  some  of  whom  died 
in  the  dark  days  of  the  conflict,  and  some  with  the  first  sight  of 
tin'  victory.  It  must  ally  itself  with  those  who  have  from  the 
beginning  been  honored  by  God  with  a  summons  to  a  peculiar 
and  illustrious  work  for  Ilim  on  earth  and  with  the  thankful 
remembrance  of  succeeding  generations.  It  must  draw  very 
uear  to  the  glorious  company  of  the   A-postles,  and  the  goodly 

fellowship  of  the  Prophets,  and  the  noble  army  of  the  Martyrs. 

The  assemblage  of  the  great  and  good   must  gladly  open  their 

rank-  to  welcome  such  a  man.  as  he  enters  on  hi-  new  life,  ran- 
somed like  themselves  from  the  power  of  sin.  and  received  by 
their  Lord  and  hi-  with  a  divine  benediction. 


FUNERAL   SERMON.  Id  I 

I  think  of  him,  also,  as  joyfully  meeting  with  the  brethren 
in  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel  with  whom  he  labored  here  before 
old  age  had  come  ii]>< «n  him,  and  to  whom  he  bade  farewell  long 
since  as  they  went  to  heaven;  with  the  brethren  and  fathers 
elsewhere,  also,  whom  he  knew  and  honored  as  they  equally 
knew  and  honored  him;  with  that  little  company  of  faithful 
men.  whose  presence  among  as  the  older  portion  of  this 
audience  well  remember,  the  men  who  made  up  so  large  a  part 
of  the  life  of  Yale  College  for  half  a  century,  Day  and  Silliman 
and  Kingsley  and  Goodrich,  and  the  rest.  A>  they  recognized 
him  in  the  days  gone  by  as  their  associate  and  helper,  it  must 
l»c  with  an  especial  joy  that  they  see  him  again,  new  that,  after 
BO  long  a  time,  he  i>  admitted  once  more  into  their  society,  his 
work  on  earth  so  happily  completed. 

We  think  of  him  even  more  tenderly,  as  we  try  to  realize  his 
reunion  with  the  great  number  of  believers  who  have  listened 
to  his  teachings  and  his  prayers  in  this  ancient  church,  hut  have 
finished  their  earthly  course  before, him.  For  more  than  fifty 
veal'-  they  have  been  entering,  one  by  one.  into  the  world  to 
which  he  ha-  now  been  called,  and  in  their  happy  thanksgivings 
for  their  own  blessed  life  in  heaven  we  may  not  doubt  that  they 
have  often  borne  hi-  name  upon  their  hearts.  As  he  has  fol- 
lowed them  to  the  saTme  glorious  home  and  is  beginning  his  new- 
life  there,  what  must  he  their  feeling  and  the  holy  greeting 
which  they  give,  lie  stands  among  them  a  loving  and  beloved 
friend,  to  find.  f<»r  all  the  future,  the  happiness  of  his  soul 
manifolded  by  the  happiness  of  theirs;  the  satisfaction  in  his 
life's  work  dei  pencil  and  heightened  continually  as  he  is  able  to 
appreciate  more  fully  the  measure  of  it-  g I  results. 

Ami.  if  we  may  draw  -till  nearer  to  the  imnosl  circle  of  his 
pasl  life,  we  think  of  him.  -till  again,  a-  Beeing  mice  more  the 
members  of  hi-  family  whom  God  ha-  taken  to  Himself  in 
other    year-;   anion-   them  that  one  who  cared  for    him  with  an 

eldesl  daughter's  affection    for  bo   Ion-- a  period,  and   at  whose 

grave  we  >aw   him   standing,  it  seems  as  if  Inn  a  few  oths 

since;  ami  that  gentle,  loving  -on.  whose  death  in  the  prime  of 
his  age  was  so  greal  a  loss  to  the  church  and  the  ministry,  the 
beauty  oi  whose  Christian  living  ami  whose  generous  spirit, 
which  had  -hone  -. .  clearh  all  the  wa\  through  life,  seemed   to 


169  LEONARD    I!  \ri)N. 

beam  forth  with  an  almost  unearthly  brightness  when,  in  the 
later  hours  of  the  day  before  his  death  lit-  said,  "  It  may  be  thai 
to-morrow  1  shall  be  allowed  to  touch  the  hem  of  the  Saviour's 
garment."  We  may  nol  trust  ourselves  with  the  thought 
of  such  a  meeting.  But  it  must  be  one  which  passes  in  its  joy 
the  power  of  our  presenl  understanding,  and  one  which  shall 
be  followed  by  a  happy,  hopeful  waiting  for  those  who  are  left 
on  earth. 

Aim!    then,  above  and    beyond  all  else,  there  is  revealed  to  US 

the  vision  with  which  the  New  Testament  prophet  was  blessed. 
"They  serve   Eim  day  and  night  in   His  temple,     lie  that  sit 

teth  ou  the  throne  shall  spread  his  tahernacle  over  them.  They 
shall. hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  anymore;  neither  shall 
the  sun  strike  upon  them,  nor  any  heat ;  for  the  Lamb  which 
is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  shall  he  their  shepherd,  and  shall 
guide  them  unto  fountains  of  waters  of  life;  and  God  shall 
wipe  away  every  tear  from  their  eves." 

Such  was  the  past,  and  such,  we  may  believe,  will  he  the 
future  for  this  noble  Christian  preacher  and  teacher,  this  pure- 
minded  Lover  of  his  country  and  of  mankind,  this  friend  of 
on r>  who  labored  and  prayed  for  the  kingdom  of  God  unceas- 
ingly until  he  had  almost  reached  the  age  of  eighty  years,  and 
then  in  a  moment,  and  in  answer  to  a  sudden  call,  went  to  his 
reward. 

A  mortal  arrow  pierced  his  frame, 
II''  fell — but  felt  no  fear. 

Tranquil  amidst  alarms. 

h  found  him  mi  the  field, 
A  veteran  slumbering  on  his  arms. 

Beneath  Ids  red-cross  shield. 

His  spirit,  with  a  bound, 

Left  its  encumbering  clay  ; 
Hi-  tent,  .it  -mirise.  on  the  ground, 

A  darkened  ruin  lav. 

The  pains  of  death  are  past, 
Labor  and  sorrow  cease  : 
Ami.  life's  long  warfare  closed  :ii  last, 

Hi-  -mil  is  found  in  peace. 

Soldier  o  >-ll  done  ! 

Praise  be  thy  now  employ ; 
And  while  eternal  ages  ruu, 
;n  thy  Saviour's  joy." 


FUNERAL    SERMON.  L63 

It  i>  now  forty-four  years  since,  on  my  first  coming  to  New 
Haven  as  a  boy  just  nine  years  old,  the  friend  respecting  whom 
I  have  spoken  these  words  received  me  kindly  to  his  house'. 
almost  every  day,  as  the  playmate  of  one  of  his  children.  He 
had  at  that  time  only  reached  the  middle  point  of  the  allotted 
three  Bcore  and  ten  of  human  life,  and  yet  how  old  he  seemed 
to  my  childhood's  thought.  I  know  of  nothing  more  strange 
or  beyond  belief  which  the  open  vision  of  the  future,  had  it 
been  given  to  me  then,  could  have  revealed,  than  that  for  so 
many  years  I  should  be  his  associate  and  colleague  in  the  work 
of  his  later  life.  But  so  it  has  been  ordered  in  the  progress 
and  changes  of  time,  and  the  one  to  whom  I  looked  in  the 
early  days  as  my  father's  friend,  I  now  most  gratefully  remem- 
ber as  my  own — of  an  older  generation,  indeed,  but  so  full  of 
confidence  in  those  younger  than  himself,  and  sympathy  for 
Them,  that  we  almost  forgot  the  difference  of  the  years  and  felt 
that  he  was  one  with  us  in  our  labors  and  our  thoughts.  A.s  1 
recall  to  mind,  to-day,  the  period  in  which  we  who  have  been 
working  together  in  the  Divinity  School  have  known  his 
presence  with  us,  I  rejoice  that  we  may  hear  into  the  coming  time 
the  assurance  which  he  gave,  at  one  of  our  last  meetings,  of  his 
deep  satisfaction  in  the  perfect  and  uninterrupted  harmony  of 
our  association.  With  tender  feeling  he  expressed  the  thought 
which  we  all  were  thinking — but  we  thought,  also,  how  much 
of  it  was  due  to  hi-  own  unselfish  and  friendly  spirit. 

That  I  have  been  requested  by  his  family  to  say  the  words  of 
affection  and  regard  which  all  heart-  here  wish  to  bespoken 
before  we  hear  him  to  his  burial,  I  feel  to  he  a  great  kindness 
to  myself.  The  word-  might  have  been  said  by  others  in  a 
more  tit tiiiL:  way,  hut  I  am  -u re  that  there  is  m>  one  beyond  the 
limit-  of  hi-  own  household  who  could  hear  more  willing  wit- 
ness to  what  he  ha-  done  and  especially  to  what  he  ha-  heen. 
Our  la-t  farewell  to  him  i-  spoken  at  this  hour  with  Borrow  that 
we  are  to  meet    him    here  no  longer,  hut.  as  we  think    upon    his 

life,  it  i-  spoken  with  the  pleasantesl  memories  of  the  past  and 

the  nio-t  jo\  tu I  hope-  for  t  he  future. 


The  sermon  preached  by  Rev.  (i.  L.  Walker.  I). I).,  is  given 
to  the  Committee  for  publication  in  response  to  the  following 
request. 


New   II  w  en,  January  15,  L882. 

j)ear  Sir — The  Deacons  oi  the  Firsl  Churcb  in  New  Baven,  and  the  c mittee 

of  the  Rcclesiastical  Society  connected  with  it.  have  appointed  us  to  convej  to 
you  their  thanks  for  the  discourse  delivered  by  you  this  morning  al  their  request, 
iu  which  you  portrayed  so  faithfully,  and  in  such  loving  and  eloquent  words,  the 
character  of  our  former  Past  r.  Rev.  Leonard  Bacon,  I».I>..  in  his  relations  to  this 
church. 

We  are  also  instructed  to  ask  for  a  copy  of  your  discourse  for  publicati6n. 
We  remain,  with  Bincere  respecl  and  esteem, 

II.    C.     KlMiSI.KY. 

L.  J.  S  wi-oimi. 
T.  K.  Tbowbbidge,  Jr. 
.  Geo.   U  Walker,  D.D. 


A    SERMON 


The   Pastob  of  the   Fiesi   Chuech  of  New  Haven, 
by  George  Leon  Walker. 


Preached  .1  \\r  \i;v   15,    L882. 


NfMl;KI:S    XX.    29.  —  A.NIi    WHEN     ILL   THE    CONGREGATION    SAW    THAT    A.ARON    WAS 
I  >K  \  I».  THEY  MOUBNED  FOR  A  IRON  THIRTY  DATS,  EVEN  ALL  THE  HOUSE  OF  [SRAEL. 

The  aature  of  the  service  I  am  to  attempt  to-day  i>.  a>  I  con- 
ceive of  it.  ;i  very  definite  one.  The  termination  of  a  pastoral 
connection,  subsisting  in  more  less  completeness  of  meaning  for 
nearly  fifty-seven  years,  and  the  request  of  the  officers  of  the 
bereaved  church  that  some  words  should  be  spoken  of  the  hon- 
ored man  wli<>  sustained  thai  relationship,  by  one  whose  only 
fitness  for  this  undertaking  is  bis  succession  for  a  while  to  the 
title  and  duties  of  the  office  when  the  elder  pastor  laid  them 
down,  indicate  very  plainly  the  quality  of  the  action  proper  to 
rhi-  occasion.  It  is  n<>1  a  general  and  complete  survey  of  the 
life  and  character  of  Leonard  Bacon  that  tlii>  hour  calls  for' 
luit  ><>ine  little  retrospecl  and  consideration  of  him,  in  connec- 
tion with  this  church  lie  loved  so  well,  and  which  so  truly  loved 
and  honored  him.  <  Ither  voices  and  other  occasions  m;i\  nunc 
fittingly  deal  with  the  broader  aspects  of  his  large  and  many- 
sided  personality  and  with  the  variety  of  Ins  public  work. 

Suggestions  of  these  things  have  already  found  expression, 
not  only  in  thai  tender  and  discriminating  address  spoken  in 
this  house  al  the  funeral  service,  bul  in  the  pages  of  the  secular 


168  LEON  \  RD    BACON. 

and  religious  press,  whose  manifold  utterances  are  bearing  te.sti 
mom  to  the  importance  of  the  place  be  tilled  in  the  general  eye, 
and  the  value  sel  on  the  many  greal  obligations  under  which  he 
has  laid  his  fellow-men.  Indeed  it  is  within  the  scope  only  of 
the  chapters  of  an  ample  volume  adequately  to  tell  the  whole 
of  whal  I  >octor  Bacon  \\  as  and  did. 

A  writer  of  rare  fertility  and  on  many  a  theme,  a  historian  of 
penetrative  insight  and  patient  research,  a  leader  ot  men's  minds 
in  matters  of  public  welfare,  a  commander  on  every  field  of 
ecclesiastical  struggle,  a  strong  pillar  of  support  to  every  philan- 
thropic enterprise,  a  conversationalist  of  unsurpassed  Helmet  of 
resource  and  raciness  of  utterance,  a  poet  whose  sweet  strains 
find  frequent  voice  in  our  worship,  a  complex  and  various 
minded  man.  combining  elements  any  one  of  which  were  dis- 
tinction enough  for  most,  it  is  only  the  Leisurely  pages  of  biog- 
raphy which  can  set  properly  forth  the  portraiture  of  his  char- 
acter and  the  record  of  his  work. 

Fortunately  our  duty  is  a  narrower  one.  We  meet  to-day  in 
this  church,  which,  though  it  by  no  means  confined,  was  never- 
theless the  center  of  his  mosl  distinctive  labors,  to  speak  of 
what  he  has  been  to  this  flock  of  his  early  and  only  pastoral 
charge.  Such  outlooks  and  glimpses  into  other  and  wider 
spheres  ot'  his  activity  as  his  characteristic  work  in  his  own  peo- 
ple's behalf  will  hurriedly  allow,  we  may  not  quite  shut  out  ; 
hut  Leonard  Bacon,  the  Pastor  of  the  First  Church  of  New 
Haven.  i>  to-day  our  theme. 

This  house  of  worship  where  we  are  gathered  was  about 
eleven  years  old  when  its  echoes  were  wakened  for  the  first 
time  by  the  voice  which  was  to  he  familiar  here  so  many  years. 

That  was  on  the  earliest  October  Sunday  in  1S24.  It  was  the 
first  Sunday  after  Mr.  Bacon's  ordination  to  the  ministry,  which 
had  been  conferred  on  the  Tuesday  previous  through  the  hands 
of  the  Hartford  North  Consociation,  met  at  Windsor.  Septem- 
ber twenty-eighth.  Tradition  tells  that  the  youthful  appearance 
of  the  preacher,  who  was  in  tact  <>nK  twenty-two  and  a  half 
vears  old,  excited  at  once  the  interest  and  the  criticism  of  the 
congregation  accustomed   to  the  commanding  presence  of  his 

predecessor,  Nathaniel  W.  Taylor,  and    many  of  whom  recalled 

-fill  the  ••  -till'  and  antique  dignity  '*  of  I  )r.  I  >ana,  who  had  dis- 


MEMORIAL   SERMON.  Lf>9 

appeared  from  his  place  in  the  pulpit  by  the  side  of  Moses 
Stuart  only  twelve  years  before. 

This  division  of  opinion  respecting  the  competence  of  the 
young  man  to  occupy  a  position  so  conspicuous  as  this,  and  ren- 
dered  doubly  exacting  by  the  ability  of  his  two  immediate  pred- 
ecessors, expressed  itself  in  the  hesitation  with  which,  after 
having  listened  to  ••fourteen  sermons"  from  him,  the  Society 
still  debated  the  question  of  his  "call.'1 

At  length  at  a  "second  meeting"  on  the  subject,  on  Decem- 
ber twenty-eighth,  by  a  vote  of  sixty-eight  against  twenty,  the 
Society  expressed  their  desire  that  he  should  settle  with  them, 
and  the  church  joined  in  the  invitation.  The  call  thus  half- 
cordially  given  was  however  listened  to;  and  <>n  the  seven- 
teenth of  January,  L825,  affirmatively  answered.  And  on  the 
ninth  of  March  following  the  formal  exercises  of  the  Pastor's 
induction  into  his  office  here  took  place.  The  sermon  on  the 
occasion  was  preached  by  Mr.  Eawes  the  Pastor  of  the  hirst 
Church  in  Hartford — himself  in  the  seventh  year  of  his  minis^ 
try — in  the  exercise  of  those  fraternal  courtesies  which  have 
marked  the  relationship  of  these  two  ancient  churches  of  Con- 
necticut both  before  and  afterwards.  Of  course  it  hardly  needs 
to  say  that  all  the  members  of  the  council  who  took  part  in  the 
Bervices  of  that  occasion — President  Day  who  was  the  Modera- 
tor, Carlos  Wilcox  who  offered  the  introductory  prayer,  Joel 
rlawes  who  preached,  Stephen   \V.  Stebbins  who  offered   the 

prayer  of  installation.  Nathaniel  \V.  Taylor  who  gave  the  charge, 
Samuel    Merwin   who  expressed    the  fellowship  of   the  churches. 

and   Eleazar  T.  Fitch  who  led   in  the  closing  prayer,  have  gone 
—and   ino-t  of  them   have  for  many  years   been  gone—  from 

human  sight. 

The  young  man  thus  put  iii  charge  of  this  influential  congre- 
gation was  not  utterly  a  Btranger  to  the  town.     Born  February 

I'.'.  1802,  al  the  far  Western outposl  of   Detroit,  and  c irig  to 

his  first  memories  of  life  as  he  tells  tie  "in  the  grand  old 
woods"  oi  Ohio,  on  ground  " never  ploughed  before,"  and  in 
a  cabin  to  whose  door  the  ••red-skin  savage  sometimes  came." 
a  in  I  a  ron  in  I  which  the  "  wolves  I  low  led  at  night,"  he  was  never- 
theless of  (  dniiectieiit  ancesl  r\ .  ami  at  i  he  age  of  ten  years  was 
-em    to  he  educated    under  the  care  of  an  uncle  ai  Hartford. 


l"0  LEONARD    BACON. 

Krom  theuce  alter  aboul  live  years  lie  had  come,  a  now  father- 
less boy,  to  New  Haven,  and  entered  the  sophomore  class  in 
Vale  College;  the  rules  of  the  institution  being  as  lie  says 
u  somewhal  relaxed  in  his  favor"  on  acconnl  of  liis  yonth. 

Mere,  from  fifteen  to  eighteen,  during  the  three  years  of  his 
residence    in    the    place  he  had  walked  these  streets,  and  he  had 

doubtless  at  least  occasionally  entered  the  doors  of  this  sanctu- 
ary, and  heard  from  some  gallery  corner. the  impassioned  utter- 
ances of  Dr.  Taylor,  one  of  the  princeliest  preachers  of  New 
England's  history.  Little  did  the  youth  imagine,  or  the  lathers 
of  the  congregation  dream,  how  much  wider  a  place  in  this 
church's  history  the  unnoticed  listener  in  the  gallery  was  to  till, 
than  even  thai  eloquenl  man. 

But  though  the  young. Pastor  a  little  knew  New  I  laven.  New 
Haven  knew  scarcely  anything  of  him.  He  had  his  way  to 
make  without  other  advantages  than  the  resources  of  his  own 
powers.  And  the  obstacles  to  be  overcome  were  peculiarly  dif- 
ficult. Not  only  had  his  formal  call  been  a  divided  one,  hut  he 
had  that  kind  of  disadvantage  to  surmount  which,  whatever  he 
the  unanimity  of  imitation  extended  to  a  new  pastor,  always 
arises  from  the  remembrance  by  a  congregation  of  preceding 
pastorates  of  any  very  special  attractiveness  and  power.  And 
the  two  previous  pastorates  had  been  \i'v\  eminently  such  as 
make  a  successor's  difficult.  They  had  been  marked  by  great 
religious  awakenings,  and  they  were  those  of  men  leaving  a  dis- 
tinct and  abiding  impress  on  the  people  of  their  charge.  I  have 
mvself.  after  the  lapse  of  the  whole  duration  of  Dr.  Bacon's 
active  pastorate  of  forty-one  and  a  half  years  in  this  place, 
heard  old  men  ami  women  recall  and  sometimes  rehearse  the 
eloquenl  utterances  of  Taylor  and  even  of  Stuart  fourteen 
pears  previous,  which  had  stamped  themselves  on  their  memory 
with  ineffaceable  clearness. 

The  new  Pastor  fell   the  difficulties  of  his  situation  keenly. 

He  has  told  US  aboul   it  himself    in  his    retrospective   discourses 

picached  on  the  fortieth  and  fiftieth  anniversaries  of  his  set- 
tlement. In  those  addresses  he  describes  the  situation  of 
matters,  in  various  aspects,  on  his  coming  here — the  yet  un- 
welded  fragments  and  remainders  of  old  controversies  in  the 
congregation;    the   oppositions   of   "Old    Light"   and    "New 


MEMOR]  \l.    SERMON.  I  .  1 

Light "  principles  and  personalities  still  remaining  after  the 
tw<>  revivalistic  pastorates  which  had  just  passed,  and  other 
differences.  But  in  especial,  speaking  of  the  difficulty  of  fol- 
lowing two  such  preachers  as  Stuart  and  Taylor,  he  says  with 

characteristic  simplicity — and  I  may  add  with  the  characteristic 
modesty  also  by  which,  with  all  bis  gifts.  Dr.  Bacon  was  emi- 
nently marked — "  I  know  it  is  not  an  affectation  to  say.  that 
I  never  hail  any  such  power  in  the  pulpit  as  they  had  in  their 
best  days.  For  many  years  after  the  commencement  of  my 
pastorate  I  was  habitually  brought  into  most  disadvantageous 
comparison,  not  only  with  those  distinguished  preachers,  but 
with  others  of  like  celebrity.  How  it  was  that  I  continued 
here  long  enough  to  become  a  fixture  cannot  easily  he  ex- 
plained." 

The  explanation  i-  however  not  so  difficult  as  the  modesty 
of  the  speaker  indicated  it  to  he.  The  new  Pastor  wa>  not 
then  or  afterward  the  peer  perhaps  in  the  power  of  eloquent 
and  moving  pulpit  utterance  of  hjs  two  predecessors,  certainly 
of  the  latter  of  them.  But  he  had  pulpit  power-  of  a  high 
order,    and    he    combined    with    them    such    a    variety    of    gifts 

beside,  as  more  than  supplied  the  comparative  lack  in  the 
single  point  in  which  the  contrast  was  likely  to  he  at  once  so 
easy  and  bo  misleading.  Ee  gave  indications  of  being,  if  nol 
a  -rear  preacher,  what  was  more  a  great  man  and  minister. 
The  congregation  soon  began  to  find  it  out. 

And  yet  his  preaching  suffered  only  l>y  comparison  with 
what  was  absolutely  the  hot  possible.  It  was  itself  always 
eminently  good.     It    was  marked,  as  were  all   his  writings  or 

utterance-,    hv    an    almosl    matchless    felicity  of   expression  ami 

clearness  of  style.  And  it  had  that  besl  test  of  excellence,  it 
was  always  besl  and  mosl  moving  in  dealing  with  the  weight- 
iest theme-  and  on  the  most  important  occasions.  I  have  heard 
it   -aid  that  a  kind  of  turning  point    in    the    appreciation    of   the 

pa-tor  was  a  -erinoii  on  the  government  of  God,  from  the  text, 
"Thy  commandment  i-  exceeding  broad."  It  mighl  very  well 
he   the  case.     The   subjecl    wa-   one  especially   tilted    to   the 

preacher'-    hahit    of    thought.       He    needed    a    hroad    subject     to 

give  scope  and  play  to  hi-  large  mind.  And  a  theme  which 
enabled  him  to  lay  hold  on  and  to  state  great   moral   principles 


LKON  \  i;n    BACON. 


in  their  application  to  the  duties  and  welfare  of  men,  always 
was  a  theme  b\  which  lie  easily  rose  to  a  grave  and  commanding 
eloquence. 

No1  long  after,  too,  in  i !ii>  earlv  period  of  liis  ministry  liere, 
he  bad  the  satisfaction — more  precious  than  any  other  to  a 
Pastor  of  seeingsaving  results  from  his  labor.  In  L828,  forty- 
eight  persons  united  with  this  church  by  confession  of  Christ. 
In  L831,  in  connection  with  protracted  services  held  here 
whose  solemn  power  has  not  yet  died  out  of  the  vivid  memory 
of  many  in  this  congregation,  one  hundred  and  eight.  In  1832, 
thirty-three,  [n  1833,  twenty-one.  [n  1837,  thirty-four.  The. 
witness  of  the  Spiril  could  not  be  mistaken.  The  suggestions 
which  had  occasionally  been  dropped  during  the  first  three 
years  of  the  Pastor's  labors,  by  some  of  the  congregation  who 
remembered  with  longing  the  revival  times  of  Stuart  and  Tay- 
lor, "that  New  Haven  needed  a  more  efficient  ministry,"  were 
heard  no  more.  Henceforth  his  position  was  established  as  a 
minister  honored  of  God  and  approved  of  man  for  his  conspic- 
uous fidelity  and  power  in  the  Gospel. 

But  the  mental  activity  and  prodigious  industry  of  the  young 
Pastor  could  not  limit  his  labor  to  the  routine,  arduous  as  mos1 
men  find  that  routine  to  be,  of  the  regular  requirements  of  the 
pulpit  and  the  parish.  He  flowed  over  in  all  directions,  even 
in  that  earlv  day,  with  frequent  contributions  to  the  press  and 
addresses  on  topics  of  public  interest  at  the  time. 

More  scholarly  in  its  quality,  and  distinctly  pastoral  in  its 
aim.  was  his  republication,  in  these  days  <»f  this  earlier  minis- 
try, of  selected  writings  of  Richard  Baxter  with  editorial  com- 
ments thereon. 

But  the  chief  work,  collateral  to  that  which  he  was  ordained 
to  in  this  pastoral  charge,  belonging  to  what  may  he  called  the 
frrSt  period  of  the  Pastor's  ministry,  and  a  work  which  he;  fid- 
till,., I  as  a  pail  of  that  ministry,  was  the  preparation  and  preach- 
ing his  thirteen  Historical  Discourses.  He  had  been  set  as  a 
lighl  in  an  ancient  candle-tick.  The  old  church  of  winch  he 
wa-   Pastor  had  had  a   long  and   iioUe  history.       It    was  a   line  of 

eminenl  men  into  whose  succession  he  had  been  brought.  And 
the  history  of  the  First  Church  of  New  Haven  wa6  essentially 

tin-  history  of   New    Haven   Colony.      Nay,  it    widened   out  to 


MEMORIAL   SERMON.  1  73 

still  broader  relations,  connecting  itself  with  the  story  of  the 
planting  New  England's  chnrches  and  governments,  and  of  the 
Pnritan  movements  in  the  mother  land  from  which  the  found- 
ers of  New  Haven  had  come.  The  two  hundredth  anniversary 
of  the  church  was  approaching,  and  as  a  loving  tribute  to  her 
praise  the  Pastor  prepared  the  Discourses  which  mark  the  arri- 
val of  that  anniversary,  and  which  mark  also  the  completion  of 
thirteen  years  of  his  own  service  in  her  behalf.  Never  had  a 
church  a  more  graceful  and  valuable  offering.  A.mong  many 
undertakings  similar  in  aim  I  know  of  none  which  can  for  a 
moment  challenge  comparison  with  that  which  put  this  church 
in  the  possession  of  so  accurate  and  so  attractive  a  chronicle  of 
her  history.  This  volume  gained  for  its  author  at  once  a  secure 
place  among  the  best  writers  of  New  England.  Marked  by  the 
truest  historic  instinct,  and  written  in  a  style  of  charming  vi- 
vacity ami  elegance,  it  constitutes  one  of  the  richest  possessions 
of  the  church  in  whose  service  it  was  undertaken,  as  well  as 
one  of  the  most  significant  tokens  of  the  industry  and  pastoral 
loyalty  of  it-  author.  The  Pastor  was  proud  of  his  church. 
Henceforth  the  church  was  proud  of  him.  The  Pastor  with 
filial  fidelity  had  Bought  to  do  honor  to  his  predecessors,  and 
to  the  church  whose  representatives  they  were.  The  church 
now  >aw  that  among  that  line  of  honored  men  there  was  none 

worthier  of  love  and  admiration  than  the  man  who  ,»t I    now 

at  thirty-six  years  of  age  her  representative,  borrowing  con- 
Bpicuity  no  more  from  the  place  he  occupied,  hut  conferring 
conspicuity  on  the  place.  .Mr.  Bacon  of  New  Haven,  or  Doc- 
tor Bacon  a-  he  just  aboul  this  time  began  to  he  called  1>\ 
virtue  of  a  degree  IV Hamilton  College,  was  as  well   vec,,^ 

nixed  ;i  reality  a-   New    I  laven  town. 

At  this  point,  then,  we  may  -et  the  mark  id'  the  second  -real 

division  of  the  Btorj  of  Dr.  Bacon's  relationship  to  this  church. 
Accounting  the  thirteen  years  up  to  the  publication  of  the 
Historical  Discourses  as  the  firsl  epoch,  and  the  sixteen  years 
after  he  resigned  the  pastoral  care  ae  the  third,  there  lies  be 
tween  the  two  a  period  of  a  hoi  it  twenty-seven  ^ears  of  immense 
and  varied  activity,  lie  was,  at  the  beginning  of  this  second 
period,  according  to  hi-  own  judgment  of  the  terms  into  which 
the  life  .,f  man  i-  naturally  divided     a-  expressed   in   hi-  beau 

L3 


I  i  I  LEON  \i;i»    &ACON\ 

tit  ul  sermon  on  the  Mea&urt  of  out  Days     "in  the  lull  vigof 
of  lii>  powers."     Henceforth  his  life  was  thai  of  ;i  public  man 

as  well  as  that  of   a  parish  minister  ;   a  man  (if   national    reputa- 

t i«>n  ami  influence. 

It  i>  impossible  in  a  discourse  like  the  present  to  touch  even 
scantily  on  the  diverse  ami  manifold  aspects  of  the  work  Dr. 
Bacon  did  duringthis  period.  Nor  for  my  design  is  it  needful. 
I  keep  singly  to  my  purpose  of  setting  those  things  before  von 

to-day  wherein  the    Pastor  of   this   church    fulfilled    his  duty  to 

this  charge. 

But  the  main  things  which  interested  him  were  those  fn 
which  his  people  had  also  a  concern.  And  the  clash  of  the 
weapons  he  wielded  on  other  fields  found  a  frequent  echo 
within  these  walls. 

'I'he  cause  of  Temperance  had  in  Dr.  Bacon  an  earnest  advo- 
cate. At  his  installation  here,  at  the  public  dinner  provided 
by  the  society,  there  was  as  he  tells  us  "an  ample  supply  not 
only  of  wine  hut  also  of  more  perilous  stuff."  But  among  the 
zealous  promoters  of  a  reform  in  the  practices  of  society  in  this 
matter,  and  of  the  legislation  of  the  State  concerning  it.  he  was 
one  of  the  earliest  and  most  strenuous.  I  mention  it  however, 
mainly,  at  this  time,  as  being  one  of  the  first  instances  in  which 
in  hi-  people's  behalf  he  threw  himself  distinctly  across  the 
prejudices  of  a  very  considerable  number  in  his  congregation, 
ami  very  many  in  the  community  about  him,  in  the  advocacy 
of  what  he  believed  to  he  right.  A  pamphlet  published  by 
him  at  about  the  beginning  of  what  1  have  called  by  way  of 
convenience  the  second  period  of  Dr.  Macon's  ministry,  shows 
at  once  the  vigor  of  bis  utterances  on  tliis  matter  of  temperance 
legislation  and  practice,  and  indicates  plainly  that  his  utterances 
had  subjected  him.  in  certain  quarters  called  highly  respectable 
in  this  town,  to  not  a  little  obloqu)  and  reproach.  But  there 
i-  reason  to  believe  that  here,  as  on  some  other  fields  of  effort 
where  he  likewise  crossed  the  prejudices  of  some  of  his  congre 
gation,  lie  partly  won  and  partly  compelled  an  ultimate  coinci- 
dence of  opinion  upon  the  matter. 

A-  an  earnest  laborer  in  the  greal  Benevolent  enterprises  of 
the  day — among  others  of  Missions,  Foreign  and  Home — Dr. 
Bacon    had    few    if  any  superior-    among    the    pastors    of    New 


MEMORIAL   SERMON.  1  75 

England.  Of  many  of  the  societies,  having  these  interests  in 
charge,  lie  was  among  the  founders  or  early  directors,  and  he 
brought  to  their  advocacy  before  this  church,  not  only  the 
comprehensiveness  of  view  which  made  him  an  intelligent  and 
effective  promoter  of  the  cause  he  espoused,  but  the  courage 
which  did  not  hesitate  to  press  the  obligation  of  beneficence 
upon  his  hearers.  That  this  church  lias  had  and  still  has  an 
honorable  record  upon  the  pages  of  most  of  the  great  organ- 
ized Christian  philanthropies  of  the  time  for  the  largeness  of 
its  pecuniary  bestowals,  is  greatly  owing  to  the  fervor  of  his 
interest  and  the  persistency  of  his  appeals  in  their  behalf. 
Himself  the  child  of  a  missionary,  the  interests  of  missions 
were  always  deal-  to  him.  Bimself  a  far-seeing  watcher  of  the 
progress  of  God's  kingdom  among  men,  he  discerned  well  how 
great  a  share  in  that  kingdom's  growth,  missionary  enterprises 
have  had  in  the  past  and  must  have  in  years  to  come. 

More  conspicuous  in  its  adaptedness  to  draw  public  atten- 
tion, as  well  as  doubtless  more  potent  in  stirring  the  various 
sensibilities  of  his  congregation,  was  l>r.  Bacon's  attitude  and 
endeavor  in  reference  to  Slavery.  IIi>  interest  in  this  subject 
had  begun  early.  And  his  pen,  even  as  far  hack  as  his  Semi- 
nary days  at  Amlover.  had  heeii  occupied  respecting  it.       From 

L833  to  L846  it  was  employed  often  in  a  series  of  discussions, 
which  frequently  found  their  echo  in  the  pulpit  here,  upon  the 
various  aspects  of  this  national  wrong,  and  which  at  the  Later 
of  the  dates  mentioned  were  gathered  into  a  volume.  Ee 
himself  -ay-  in  the  second  of  his  Four  Commemorative  Dis- 
courses: "  From  the  beginning  of  my  official  ministry,  I  Bpoke 
without  reserve,  from  the  pulpit  and  elsewhere,  against  slavery 

:i-    a     wrong    ami    a   dir.-e.    threatening  disaster  ami   ruin    to  the 

nation.     Many  years  I  did  this  wit] t  being  blamed  except  as 

I  was  blamed  tor  not  going  far  enough.  .  .  .  Vet  you  know 
how  I  have  been  blamed  ami  even  execrated,  in  these  later 
years,  for  declaring  here  ami  elsewhere  the  wickedness  <>l  buy- 
ing and  Belling  human  beings,  or  of  sriolating  in  anyway  those 
human     rights     which    aie    inseparable    from     human    nature." 

This  contrast  of  treatment  which  the  Pastor's  utterance- met 
and  which  he  so  distinctly  recognized,  grew  out,  not  of  altera 
Hon   in   his  sentiments  but   of  alteration  in  the  aspect  of  the 


I  ,»'.  LEON  \i;i>    BACON. 

problem  of  slavery  itself.  The  question  became  progressive^ 
less  and  less  a  merely  philanthropic  one.  and  more  and  more  a 
political  one.  A-  long  a>  it  was  confined  chiefly  to  the  sphere 
of  ethics  and  beneficenl  sympathies  the  Pastor's  utterances 
stirred  little  opposition.  But  when  the  question  came  to  be 
one  along  the  line  of  which  parties  divided  in  contest  for  gov- 
ernmental control,  and  the  mercantile  ranks  splil  apart  accord- 
ing to  their  interest  in  the  ascendency  of  one  or  another  theory 
of  the  province  of  legislation  respecting  this  sin,  the  case  was 
altered.  The  Pastor  found  himself  in  opposition  to  a  great 
proportion  of  the  friend-  and  companions  of  his  earlier  minis- 
terial days  in  the  general  fellowship  of  the  churches,  and  to 
not  a  few  in  the  closer  precincts  of  bis  own  congregation.  Yet 
he  himself  rightly  says,  '"I  have  beld  and  always  asserted  the 
same  principles  on  that  subject  which  I  held  and  asserted  at 
the  beginning." 

It  was  SO.      It  was  the    holding  of  those  principles  which  led 

to  the  Pastor's  early  advocacy  of  the  Colonization  Society;  it. 
was  the  holding  of  them,  too,  which  in  the  altered  condition 
of  the  problem  led  him  tocease  that  advocacy.  It  was  the  hold- 
in-  those  principles  which  led  to  his  espoiisil  of  the  cause  of  the 
Ami-tad  captives  and  in  doing  so  to  one  of  his  first  conflicts  in 
the  struggle  which  wasto  la>r  so  many  years.  Those  principles 
led  him  to  the  long  and  acrimonious  debates  over  the  conduct 
of  the  Tract  Society  affairs,  in  which  he  parted  company  with 
some  of  hi-  oldest  and  most  intimate  associates.  They  led  him 
To  the  assumption,  in  L848,  of  the  onerous  duties  of  a  joint 
editorship,  with  I  )v>.  Thompson  and  Storrs,  of  the  IndepencL  ///. 
whose  then  unpopular  and  execrated  banner-inscription  was, 
■■  We  take  our  stand  for  free  -oil."  They  led  him  on  Thanks- 
giving day,    L851,  to  preach  from  this  desk  his  sermon  on  The 

Higher  Law,'  the  adoption  of  which  political  watchword,  and 
the  advocacy  of  which  ethical  principle,  was  by  multitudes  of 
the  mosl  influential  and  religious  men  of  the  land  and  some  in 
hi.-  own  congregation,  regarded  as  the  ultimate  and  perfect  test 
of  hopeless  and  perilous  fanaticism.  They  led  him  in  1855  to 
advocate,  even  at  the  threatened  expense  of  blood,  resistance 
to  the  incursion  of  slavery  into  Kansas.     They  led   him  later 

on.    when    at    la-t   the  struggle  of  arms  came,  to  make  this  pnl- 


MEMORIAL   SERMON.  I  i  i 

pit  a  tower  for  the  sounding  out  of  the  battle-cry  of  freedom  : 
and  to  make  these  walls,  dedicated  to  the  gospel  of  peace,  to 
reverberate  with  that  utterance  of  it  which  proclaims  "  deliv- 
erance to  the  captives"  and  the  Betting  "at  liberty  them  that 
are  bruised." 

It  was  a  straight-forward,  consistent  course.  But  it  cost  him 
many  friends.  In  other  cities  and  other  fellowships  dear  to 
him,  many ;  some  here.  Darkened  faces  looked  up  at  him 
from  these  pews.  But  he  triumphed,  because  the  right  which 
he  represented  triumphed.  And  without  a  tinge  of  bitterness 
in  the  retrospect,  he  says  of  these  alienations — let  us  be  thank- 
ful for  the  most  part  only  temporary  alienations — "  I  make  no 
complaint.  .  .  .  All  reproaches,  all  insults  endured  in  the  con- 
flict with  so  gigantic  a  wickedness,  are  to  be  received  and 
remembered,  not  as  injuries  but  as  honors." 

Less  frequent  in  finding  reverberating  notes  in  this  place. 
though  occasionally  finding  them,  were  Dr.  Bacons  activities 
as  a  representative  Congregationalist.  The  Pastor  was  a  Con- 
gregationalist  on  principle.  Into  the  history  and  theory  of  the 
polity  he  had  studied  deeply.  Upon  it  he  wrote  largely.  Of 
its  superiority  to  other  forms  of  Chureh  government  he  had 
no  doubt.  The  pathetic  and  heroic  story  of  its  struggles  in 
England  and  its  planting  in  America  always  inspired  him.  lie 
loved  to  Bpeak  and  preach  upon  it.  and  often  levelled  a  lance 
in  debate  with  defenders  of  other  systems.  The  arrogance  of 
Episcopal  claims  in  especial  always  amused  him  and  often 
kindled  hi>  sarcasm  or  his  ridicule  ;  while  anion-  Episcopalians 
were  many  of  hi-  best-loved  friends.  Presbyterianism  was  a 
system  he  could  and  did  heartily  oppose,  yel  among  Presby- 
terians he  chose  many  dearest  to  him. 

At  all  great  Congregational  assemblies  he  was  a  foremost, 
generally  the  foremost  figure.  At  the  difficult  council-  his 
was  a  guiding  voice.  The  last  extended  platform  of  polity 
expressive  of  the  generally  accepted  principles  of  our  churches, 
and  presented  at  the  Council  of  1865,  was  drafted  mainly  \>\ 
}\\>  hand.  Beyond  all  comparison  he  was  looked  to  a>  the 
typical  Congregationalist  oi  America.  Leaning  a  little  in  his 
later  day-,  undoubtedly,  more  to  that  Bide  of  Congregational- 
ism which  make-  for  independency  than  that  which  tnaken  for 


1 , 8  LEONARD    BACON. 

mutual  responsibility,  and  ;i  little  ou1  of  sympathy  with  the 
more  recenl  movemenl  of  our  churches  i < »w  :i i*» I  combination 
and  unity  of  anion,  he  was  nevertheless  Congregationalism's 
mosl  \ enerated  represental i\ e. 

Ami  few  can  estimate  the  value,  in  the  Ecclesiastical  assem 
blies  of  tins  Commonwealth  and  the  land — whether  on  occa- 
sions of  Btated  and  routine  assembly  or  of  exigenl  and 
occasional  gathering  of  tin'  influence  exerted  by  the  Pastor 
of  tins  Church.  No  consideration  of  Dr.  Bacon's  pastoral 
character    could    be    other   than    incomplete  which    did    not   lav 

emphatic  stress  upon  the  work  he  did  in  our  denominational 
Councils  and  Conventions  through  so  many  years.  Through 
him  this  Church  has  had  a  voice  in  the  guidance  of  the 
religious  concerns  of  our  own  State,  and  the  wider  domain  of 
Congregational  Christianity,  superior  perhaps  to  that  of  any 
other.  Unmatched  in  debate,  unequaled  in  wit.  unparalleled  in 
fertility  of  resources,  without  a  peer  in  his  capability  of  sway- 
ing the  deliberations  of  an  assembly,  his  powerwas  with  almost 
complete  uniformity  employed  for  the  uses  of  benefit  and  not 
of  strife.  On  many  an  agitated  debate  he  poured  the  oil  of  a 
composing  and  reconciling  wisdom.  Into  any  quarrel  of  an 
ecclesiastical  character  among  the  brotherhood  it  was  difficult 
to  force  him  to  go. 

While  himself  sturdily  evangelical  in  his  interpretation  of 
Christian  doctrine,  and  showing  a  certain  leonine  contempt  for 
.-mail  assertors  of  independence  and  "  liberality."  he  had  larjje 
allowance  tor  those  who  differed  mainly  in  their  philosophic 
statement  of  truth.  In  more  than  one  theological  controyersv 
among  leading  ministers  of  this  State,  his  influence  was  that  of 
a  mediator  of  separations,  if  it  could  not  fully  be  that  of  a 
reconciler  of  opposil  ion,-. 

This  observation  prompts  to  the  remark  that  Dr.  Bacon, 
spite  of  all   hi-  capacities  for  conflict,  was  a  peace-loving  man. 

During  the  agitating   periods  of  the   Auti-slavery  struggle 

previous  to  the  war.  he  was  often  called  the  Fighting  Parson. 
The  title  had  a  certain  superficial  pertinence,  but  it  was  super- 
ficial   only.      lb-    himself  -aid    of    it    when    -poken    to   on    one 

occasion  concerning  it.  and  said  with  profound  earnestness,  "I 
never   had   a  controversy  on    merely  personal   grounds  in    my 


MEMORIAL   SERMON.  1  7'.' 

life."  The  declaration  was  nearly  or  wholly  true.  And  an- 
other thing  he  said  was  also  true  in  its  application  to  himself 
quite  as  much  as  in  its  application  to  him  of  whom  he  was 
speaking.  Tn  his  sermon  at  the  funeral  of  Dr.  Taylor  he  re- 
marked :  "  Those  who  knew  Dr.  Taylor  best,  know  how  painful 
controversy  as  distinguished  from  discussion  was  to  him.  He 
loved  discussion  ;  but  controversy  with  its  personal  alienations, 
its  exasperating  imputations,  and  its  too  frequent  appeals  to 
prejudice  and  passion,  was  what  his  soul  abhorred."  True  as 
those  words  may  have  been  concerning  Nathaniel  Taylor  they 
could  not  have  better  told  the  truth  concerning  Leonard 
Bacon.  A  sweet  and  tender  heart  was  united  with  his  formi- 
dable powers  of  debate  and,  if  need  be,  of  conflict.  His 
arrow-tips  were  not  poisoned.  A  gentle,  almost  deferential 
manner  toward  younger  and  more  humbly  gifted  men,  dis- 
armed i-nvy  and  conciliated  fear.  The  foremost  man  for 
prowess  tie  was  also  well  nigh  the  best-beloved. 

But  how  now.  the  question  arises,  how  about  the  distinc- 
tively home  work  of  this  Pa-tor.  whose  time  was  so  largely 
employed  in  matters  which  had  a  confessedly  important  but 
only  partial  reference  to  this  vineyard  of  the  First  Church? 
Well,  the  question  is  a  lair  one  And  it  deserves  to  be  con- 
sidered, especially  in  a  survey  of  Dr.  Bacon's  life  nor  so  much 
a-  a  whole  a-  in  rhc  pastoral  aspeel  of  it. 

And  I  suppose  it  may  be  fairly -aid  it  is  a  question  admit- 
ting of  a  divided  answer.  These  public  services  which  so 
largely  engrossed  the  time  and  thought  of  the  Pastor  of  this 
Church,  to  a  certain  extent  and  in  some  directions  diminished 
the  effectiveness,  at  leasl  the  immediate  local  effectiveness,  of 
his  ministry.  To  some  degree  they  gave  excuse  to  an  impres 
aion  that  the  Pastor  was  re  interested  in  things  abroad  than 

;it   home.      The\   curtailed  the  number  of    fresh  discourses  from 

hia  pen,  and   necessitated   the  more  f requenl  repetition  of  old 

ones.      They  made    impossible    the    personal    familiarity  of   the 

Pastor   with  all   the  members  of  his  congregation  which  is.  or 

Was,  one  of  the  tradition-  of  the  New    England  ministry.      That 

they  did  these  things  no  more,  is  itself  a  striking  testimony  to 
the  tremendous  capacity  for  work   lodged  in  the  Pastor's  com 

parali\el\     -li-lit     frame.        Put    lh;il    to    some  extenl    they    did 


them,  was  unquestionably  in  the  later  days  of  Dr.  Bacon's 
responsible  pastorate,  to  ;i  degree  recognized.  Bu1  over 
against  whatever  possible  dednctions  may  properly  be  made 
from  the  local  and  immediate  effectiveness  of  the  Pastor's  min- 
istry on  the  grounds  spoken  of,  there  were  great  offsets.  The 
Pastor  brought  into  this  place  the  sense  of  power  wielded  on 
other  arenas  of  effort,  and  the  people  recognized  it.  He 
broughl  with  him  the  light  and  inspiration  of  large  endeavors 
and  wide  outlooks  and  contacts  with  great  interests  and  men. 
Ili>  lesser  performings  caught  some  subtle  touch  of  vigor  and 
intelligence  from  his  greater  ones.  He  borrowed  strength  in 
his  own  consciousness,  and  in  his  congregation's  eyes  also,  from 
his  acknowledged  supremacy  elsewhere.  A  certain  wise  and 
rational  allowance,  creditable  to  both,  sprang  up  and  main- 
tained itself  between  minister  and  people.  They  knew  the 
pastor  was  doing  a  great  work  and  in  many  ways.  And  he  on 
his  part  knew  that  if  he  gave  his  people  less  than  under 
some  conceivable  circumstances  he  might  have  done,  lie 
gave  them  enough,  lie  gave  them  a  full  return.  He  loved 
his  people  and  trusted  them.  They  trusted  and  honored  him. 
And  they  hail  reason  to.  For  after  all  which  the  alertest  criti- 
cism may  BUggest,  what  a  pastorate  his  was!  Forty-one  and  a 
half  years  of  the  fully  responsible  portion  of  it.  And  marked 
by  what  excellencies,  in  well  nigh  all  that  noes  to  make  a  pas- 
toral success ! 

Hi-  Sermons.  How  simple  in  construction,  how  clear  in 
expression,  how  direct  in  aim.  how  evangelic  in  sentiment, 
how  solid  in  thought!  They  dealt  always  with  important 
matter-.  \o  bursts  of  inexplicable  passion,  no  rhetorical  dis- 
plays,  no  mystical  musings,  no  aspiration-  for  the  rare,  the  un- 
expected, the  sensational.  They  were  grave,  strong,  manly 
sermons  :  not  without  exquisite  passages  of  unsought  beauty, 
and  sometimes  >>\  noble  eloquence,  taking  hold  on  the  main 
question  •<(  Christian  truth  and  conduct.     They  had  the  great 

value  of  a  power  of  setting  familiar  things  in  clear  and  fresh 
aspects   and    relation-.      They  were    powerful  with  the  strength 

of  a  firm  hold  on  the  great  principles  of  the  gospel,  ami  they 
were  rich  with  the  results  of  a  deep  experience.  They  handled 
a  wide   range  of  matter:  sometimes  the  highesl  of  theology, 


WEMORI  \T.   SERMON.  181 

but  then  with  reverence  and  skill  :  sometimes  the  most  delicate 
in  moral  behavior,  but  then  with  consummate  propriety  and 
taste.  They  swept  the  field  of  faith  and  practice  as  thoroughly 
as  any  pastor's  anywhere.  They  were  such  sermons  as  are  an 
education  to  a  congregation.  And  they  found  the  center  of 
their  inspiration  and  the  end  of  their  aim  in  loyalty  to  ( 'hrist 
the  Saviour  and  the  King.  Christ  the  redeemer  for  sin; 
Christ  the  conqueror  of  death  :  ('hrist  the  ruler  of  the  world: 
Christ  the  head  of  the  kingdom  which  is  to  conic  these  were 
the  mighty  truths  out  of  a  profound  conviction  and  Love  of 
which  those  Bermons  came. 

And  his  Prayers.  The  beauty  and  propriety  and  sober 
fervor  of  his  prayers  were  something  wonderful.  In  these  un- 
premeditated but  marvelously  simple  and  appropriate  outpour- 
ings of  his  mind  and  heart  he  came  closer  to  his  people  than 
in  his  sermons,  even  at  their  best.  He  had  the  instinct  to  take 
1 1 1 >  and  upbear  the  common  want  <»r  the  special  necessity  of  the 
hour,  in  an  utterance  of  sweetness  and  majesty  which  it  is  given 
to  few  ever  to  attain.  The  listening  and  co-worshiping  congre- 
gation \\i'Vi'  never  jarred  by  inharmonious  suggestions,  uever 
put  in  doubt  as  to  the  full  propriety, of  the  utterance;  they 
rested  upon  and  went  alone,-  with  his  prayers  in  entire  respon- 
siveness to  their  devout  and  gracious  supplication  and  thanks- 
giving. \o  liturgical  utterances  of  prayer  one  can  anywhere 
find,  are  more  perfect  t\  pes  of  what  prayer  should  be,  than  the 
petition-  which  rose  from  his  lips  in  this  pulpit  and  in  the 
family  and  by  the  Bide  of  the  open  grave,  often  were. 

And  ln~  pastoral  minintrations  in  his  people*-  homes.  The 
sincerity  of  his  sympathy,  the  tenderness  of  his  instruction,  the 
wisdom  of  his  counsel,  the  fervency  with  which  he  implored 
restoration  t"  the  sick,  orasked  comfort  for  the  bereaved,  these 
things  are  all  known  to  you.  And  lie  had  been  taught  thus 
effectively  to  minister  to  other-,  by  the  discipline  of  personal 
grief,  heath  had  come  into  his  circle  many  times,  infant  day* 
and  manh  and  woman  1}  years  had  alike  been  broken  off  in  his 
household.  The  variety  and  the  bitterness  of  bereavement  wan 
fully  known  to  him.  And  from  the  school  of  thai  personal 
knowledge  of  tribulation  he  borrowed  the  experience  which 
made  his  word-  and  hi-  -ilent  presence,  so  often  a  consolation  in 


I  s-_'  I  EON  \  RD    B  \<  ■«  '\. 


\  ..iii-  abodes,  [nto  too  manj  of  the  homes  in  this  city  has  he 
borne  the  Pastor's  offices  of  help  in  hours  of  joy  and  hours  <>t 

sorrow,  to  make  it  needful  to  >a\    more. 

Alt  yes,  take  it  all  in  all.  ii  was  aboul  an  ideal  pastorate! 

p.ut  the  time  at  las.1  came  when  in  the  Pastor's  judgment  it 
seemed  besl  thai  he  should  be  relieved  of  the  responsible  duties  of 
his  office.  He  announced  tins  conviction  in  a  sermon  preached 
on  the  twelfth  of  March.  L865,  the  fortieth  anniversary  of  his 
settlement.  He  was  then  sixty-three  years  of  age.  His  eye 
was  not  dimmed  nor  his  force  abated.  But  he  was  the  oldesl 
pastor  in  Connecticut  in  active  service,  and  he  had  done  an 
amount  of  work  no  other  pastor  had  done.    With  characteristic 

happiness  of  expression,  and  characteristic  forecast  of  what 
would  be  wise  in  the  ease  of  most  men  he  said:  "I  am  old 
enough  now.  to  ask  for  relief;  and  at  the  same  time  I  am  not 
too  old  to  receive  it  without  feeling  that  I  am  slighted  by  the 
offer  of  it." 

In  acceding  to  this  suggestion  on  the  Pastor's  part,  the 
Society  recorded  its  inability  to  "see  any  symptoms  of  decline 
of  power  which  should  lead  him  to  wish  relief.'*  but  expressed 
a  willingness  to  yield  to  his  definitely  declared  desire,  having 
first  made"some  suitable  provision  for  our  Pastor's  remaining 
years,  after  the  termination  of  his  ministry  among  us.*'  Such 
suitable  and  honorable  provision  having  been  made,  the  Pastor 
resigned  his  office,  and  on  the  ninth  of  September,  L865 — to  a 
day  just  forty-one  and  a  half  years  from  the  March  ninth,  L825, 
of  his  installation— he  preached  a  sermon  entitled,  T/u  Pastor 
retirmg  from  his  official  work.  But  how  little  of  a  "retire- 
ment!" How  little  Pastor  and  people  foresaw  what  was  before 
them,  or  how  long  still  a  multitude  of  the  practical  services  of 
the  pastorate  were  to  be  fulfilled  by  the  same  beloved  man. 
The  evenl  however  serves  definitely  to  mark  a  new  period  in 
Dr.  Bacon's  life  and  his  relation-hip  to  this  church,  and  one 
which  presents  him  to  us  in  an  asped  certainly  as  admirable 
and  lovable  as  any  beside. 

Coincidenl  in  point  of  time  with  the  Pastor's  resignation  of 
his«office,  an  invitation  which  he  calls  a  "most  unexpected 
invitation  **  to  a  Professorship  in  the  Theological  Seminary 
here  was  laid  before  him.     He  accepted  it   "reluctantly"  and 


MEMORIAL   SERMON.  183 

went  as  be  affirmed,  "bound  in  the  spirit,  under  a  sort  of 
necessity"  laid  upon  him.  And  he  added  correctly:  "There 
is  mi  j  inn  not  ion  in  going  from  this  pulpit  to  a  theological  chair." 
Certainly  there  was  not  for  such  a  Pastor.  He  carried  more 
with  lii 1 1 1  than  in  any  such  transfer  he  could  receive. 

But  having  entered  upon  it.  lie  identified  himself  with  the 
Institution  with  liis  usual  enthusiasm.  lie  contemplated,  as 
lie  said,  a  "term  of  service  at  the  longest  very  short,"  but  lie 
remained  an  active  worker  there  for  sixteen  years. 

And  in  .many  ways  his  connection  with  the  seminary  marks 
a  new  epoch  in  its  history.  His  association  with  it  was  emi- 
nently influential  in  securing  the  needful  funds  for  its  welfare. 
He  took  pleasure  in  its  stones.  How  well  I  remember  the  sat- 
isfaction which  was  in  his  face  on  one  gray  day  in  July,  L869, 
when  he  came  to  my  room  to  invite  me  to  see  the  first  ground 
broken  for  the  erection  of  the  beautiful  edifice  which  stands  on 
the  cornei- of  Elm  and  College  streets ;  whose  unoccupied  niche 
underneath  the  window  of  his  room  could  not  be  more  appro- 
priately filled  than  by  bis  sculptured  figure.  And  at  every  step  of 
the  Institution's  history  and  development  sinc< — not  a  little  oi 
which  has  been  owing  to  the  connection  with  it  of  the  ex-Pastor 
of  this  Church — his  interest  in  it  has  been  like  that  of  a  man 
whose  whole  life,  instead  of  what  be  called  his  years  of  "deca- 
dence and  decay,"  had  been  given  to  it.  And  one  eifect  of 
that  connection  with  the  Seminary  was.  I  think,  personally 
favorable.     It   brought  him  into  constant  contact  with  young 

men    and    it    helped    to    keep    him    young.        It   was   a    matter  of 

frequent  remark  and   possibly  may  have  been  true,  that    Dr. 

Bacon's  preaching  in  this  pulpit  was  younger  and  v  alert  in 

the  years  succeeding  his  resignation  than  it  hail  been  for  several 
years  before. 

But  anyway  his  youthfulness  was  surprising.  However  the 
body  aged  the  spiril  never  grew  old.  The  restless  mind  was 
hungry  to  the  end.     In  hi-  fortieth-year  sermon  he  had  said  : 

••  I  know    more  now    than    I    knew    a  year  ago.       I    hope    to    know 

more  next  year  than  I  know  now."     [n  his  fiftieth-year  sen 

he  Baid  :  "  I  know  more  than  I  knew  ten  vear-  ago,  and  i  am 
-till   a   learner,  and   hope  I"  he    a     I  earner    to    the    end."       And  so 

he  was,  the  freshesl  and  alertesl  man  there  was  in  Connecti 
cut's  ministry  to  the  last. 


1  M  I  EON  \i;i>    B  ICON. 

To  this  period  belongs  thai  other  witness  to  the  industry  of 
the  only  half-retired  Pastor's  hand  and  brain,  the  volume  on 
the  Genesis  of  tht  .\<  w  England  Churcfies;  a  volume,  however, 
which  being  Qot  distinctly  pastoral  in  motive  I  leave  with  only 
this  iiiriit ion. 

But  another  aspect  of  Dr.  Bacon's  Lasl  period  of  life  has  a 
still  closer  connection  with  the  history  of  this  church,  and 
exhibits  in  ;i  yet  more  striking  way  this  quality  of  the  man. 
The  old  Pastor  was  to  sustain  the  experience  ii  may  be  the 
trial  >f  a  successor,  nay  of  two  of  them.  It  is  an  experience 
proverbially  difficult  for  a  minister  gracefully  to  bear.  Two 
very  eminent  pastors  in  Connecticut  had  been  put  to  the  trial 
<>t'  it  only  a  little  while  before,  and  had  rather  conspicuously 
tailed.  Bui  this  pastor  did  not  fail.  Did  Dr.  Bacon  ever  tail 
anywhere  '. 

In  a  long  and  most  kindly  letter  which  he  wrote  to  me  in 
September,    1868,    while    my    acceptance    of    the    call    of    this 

church  given  me  some  months  before  was  still  pending,  he  says 
— and  I  quote  it  with  personal  reluctance,  and  only  to  set  his 
position  toward  a  successor  in  its  true  light — "I  have  no  fear 
that  my  relations  with  you  will  he  other  than  pleasant.  With- 
out assuming  to  he  anything  more  than  a  /><isf<>,-  em&ritus, 
having  no  official  charge  or  duty  in  the  congregation,  I  trust 
I  shall  always  he  ready  to  lighten  your  burthen  if  in  any  way  I 
-hall  he  able  to  do  so.  While  it  will  he  in  some  sort  a  trial  for 
me  to  Bee  the  people  thinking  more  of  you  and  less  of  me  ;  ami 
loving  you  more  than  they  have  ever  loved  me,  I  hope  to 
-re  it  with  humble  thankfulness,  and  not  with  jealousy."  And 
every  word  of  that  utterance  was  more  than  fulfilled.  lie  was 
the  most  magnanimous  man  I  ever  knew.  Had  I  been  his  son 
after  the  flesh  he  could  not  have  \n-rw  more  cooperative  or 
kind.  Always  ready  to  help  when  asked,  he  never  volunteered 
even  advice  ;  he  never  in  any  instance  or  the  slightest  particu- 
lar gave  mi'  reason  to  wish  he  had  said  or  don-  anything  other- 
wise. Apparently  Incapable  of  jealousy  even  had  there  been 
vastly  more  opportunity  for  it  than  there  was  he  was  to  the 
pastqr  who  followed  him  a  supporter  and  comfort  always.  So 
was  he  to  his  immediate  successor;  so  was  he  I  doubt  not  to 

mine. 


MEMORIAL   SEBMOK  L85 

The  termination  of  these  two  brief  pastorates  and  the  inter- 
regnum between  them  devolved  upon  the  elder  Pastor,  in  these 

sixteen  years  after  his  official  resignation,  a  great  ileal  of  thai 
parochial  work  which  he  had  ostensibly  laid  aside.  In  his  ser- 
mon at  tin-  laying  down  of  his  office  he  had  said  :  "Till  the  time 
comes  when  \<>n  are  without  another  Pastor,  call  for  me  as 
freely  as  heretofore,  when  any  is  sick  among  yon,  and  where  the 
windows  are  darkened  by  death."  And  while  that  pastor  was 
yet  coming;  and  in  the  more  than  two  years  interregnum  after 
his  departure  before  the  arrival  of  a  second;  and  in  the  more 
than  two  and  a  half  years  again,  which  have  elapsed  since  that 
second's  removal,  the  old  Pastor  has  been  the  shepherd  of  this 
flock.  Speaking  from  time  to  rime  from  this  pulpit  with  in- 
creasing pathos  and  earnestness;  sitting  nearly  every  sabbath 
on  this  platform  where  his  presence  was  a  perpetual  benedic- 
tion, he  has  come  at  your  call,  as  he  did  aforetime  from  the 
first,  to  comfort  your  suffering  ones,  to  baptize  your  children. 
to  bury  your  dead.  He  has  fulfilled  up  to  the  end — far  beyond 
any  duration  contemplated  when  the  words  were  spoken — the 
promise  implied  in  his  tender  exhortation  when  he  laid  his 
office  down  :  "Let  no  member  of  this  congregation  think  that 
the  tie  between  yon  and  me  is  broken,  or  that  it  is  weakened, 
SO  long  as  you  arc  without  another  Pastor."  And  so  he  has 
left  \  on  a  second  time  berea^  ed.  So  he  has  twice  laid  down  his 
trust  respecting  you,  this  time  forever.  This  place  is  lonesome 
without  him.  This  flock  is  unshepherded.  Many  times  more 
than  when  his  successor  or  Ids  successor's  successor  went  are 
yon  without  a  guide  and  comforter. 

But  for  him  what  a  change!  and   for  you  what  a  retrospeel  ! 

For  him  the  entrance  on  that  larger  life  of  act  ivity  and  bless- 
edness for  which  he  yearned  and  of  which  he  spoke  in  one  of 
those  Commemorativt  Disc&wses  to  which  I  have  had  occa 
-ion  so  many  time-  to  refer:  "  Not  'three  score  years  and  ten.' 
nor  "four  -con-  years'  are  enough  for  the  capabilities  of  our 
intelligent,  affectionate  and  spiritual  nature.  The  machinery 
ot  this  mortal  l>o<l\  may  be  clogged  and  broken,  may  wear  out 
and  hi'  useless,  hut  it  is  only  a  life  beyond  the  reach  of  these 
infirmities  that   can   satisfy  the  soul.     -And  now    Lord    what 

wait   I    for  '.       M\     hope  i-  in  t  hee."  " 


1  n,;  i  |ii\  \i;i>    i;  \.  ON. 

An. I  for  \"ii  what  ;i  retrospect!  The  retrospecl  of  a  minis- 
terial life  in  your  service  of  nearly  fifty-seven  years  duration. 
The  retrospecl  of  as  large  powers  as  have  in  our  generation 
been  bestowed  upon  any  man,  devoted  here  to  the  salvation  <>l 

souls  and   the   welfare  of  the  kingd of  Christ.     The  retro 

spec!  of  a  history  which  is  buill  into  the  fabric  of  this  old  first 
church  of  New  Baven,  and  is  henceforth  an  inseparable  part  of 
it-  renown.  For  in  the  long  catalogue  of  worthies  in  the  pas- 
torate of  this  church,  from  the  broad  minded  and  saintly  Da- 
venport whom  your  Pastor  so  reverenced  and  eulogized,  t<>  him 
whose  loss  we  to-day  deplore,  no  name  shines  with  brighter 
luster,  if  indeed  any  beams  with  so  various  and   effulgenl   ray, 

as  the  name  of    LEONARD    BACON. 


[FROM    THE  INDEPENDENT.] 


REMARKABLE  SUCCESSION  OF  PASTORS. 


Reminiscences  of  a  former  Parishioner. 


By  Prof.  Lyman  II.   Atwatbr,  D.D.,   LL.D. 


The  recent  death  of  Dr.  Leonard  Bacon  revives  some  recol- 
lections of  him  and  of  the  antecedents  and  surroundings  of 
his  early  pastorate  in  the  church  of  my  nativity  and  nurture, 
which  could  n<>t  readily  occur  to  those  eminent  men.  not 
members  of  his  flock,  who  have  drawn  such  admirable. sketches 
of  him  in  The  Independent.  In  that  ancient  church  of  my 
childhood  and  youth  I  trace  back  an  nnbroken  Lineage,  natural 
and  ecclesiastical,  to  one  of  its  firsl  founders,  in  L638.  He  was 
driven  by  the  persecutions  of  Laud  to  these  then  inhospitable 
shores,  and  joined  in  the  attempl  to  found  a  "church  withoul 
a  bishop  and  a  state  without  a  king." 

While  yet  a  mere  boy,  I  witnessed  the  installation  of  young 
Mr.  Bacon,  then  barely  twenty-three  years  old  and  of  a  some- 
what diminutive  stature,  which,  aside  of  a  certain  marked 
intellectuality  in  his  look,  gave  him  the  appearance  of  a  stripling 
daring  to  follow  the  giants  who  had,  within  the  fresh  memory 
of  the  congregation,  preceded  him.  The  assembly  crowded 
the  seats  and  aisles,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  time,  when 
ordinations  and  installations  were  -rent  occasions.  The  Rev, 
Joel  Sawes,  Pastor  of  the  Firsl  Church  in  Hartford,  then 
coining  to  the  zenith  of  what  I  once  heard  l>r.  Bacon  call  his 
eat  ministry,"  preached  the  sermon.     It  is  indicative  of  the 


1  ss  LEON  \  RD    BACONf. 

change  thai  has  been  effected,  and  was  then  just  about  to  com- 
mence, thai  a  considerable  item  in  the  bill  against  the  ecclesias 
rieal  society  for  the  expenses  of  entertaining  the  installing 
council  was  for  the  liquors  furnished  it.  A  shori  time  after, 
the  Rev.  Nathaniel  Hewit,  of  Fairfield,  to  whom,  in  my  judg- 
ment, more  than  any  other,  belongs  the  credil  of  doing  the  firsl 
effective  pioneer  work  in  breaking  up  the  old  drinking  usages 
of  society,  exchanged  on  a  Sabbath  with  the  new  Pastor.  With 
overpowering  eloquence  he  denounced  the  "use  "I  distilled 
Liquors  as  a  beverage."  He  so  astonished  and  startled  the  con- 
gregation that  n<»r  u  few  came  away  saying  that  a  madman  had 
been  preaching.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before  they  conclu- 
ded that  the  madness,  if  anywhere  was  in  themselves.  The 
great  body  of  the  people  soon  adopted  Dr.  Hewit's  view  in 
their  practice.  I  ad\crt  to  these  things  as  signs  of  the  opening 
of  a  new  era  of  religious  development  and-  field  of  ministerial 
work  atthe  threshold  of  his  pastoral  career. 

Meanwhile,  let  us  look  tor  a  little  at  the  antecedents  of  his 
ministry,  as  found  in  the  persons,  characteristics,  and  influence 
of  his  two  immediate  predecessors,  Nathaniel  W.  Taylor  and 
Moses  Stuart,  whose  pastorates,  along  with  Dr.  Bacon's,  in  the 
Central  ehureh  of  New  Haven,  have  filled  out  the  past  of  this 
century,  save  half  a  dozen  years  at  its  beginning.  Mr.  Stuart 
followed  a  Pastor  not  wanting  in  intellect  and  learning,  but 
who.  being  trained  at  Harvard,  had  much  of  the  tone  and  spirit 
which  dominated  those  pulpits  of  Eastern  Massachusetts  that 
afterwards  >unl<  into  UTnitarianism.  This,  with  other  causes, 
had  fostered  an  orderly  quietude  in  the  congregation,  already 
tending  to  stagnation  and  deadness.  Dr.  Bacon  observes  in  his 
••  Historical   Discourses"  (p.  279)  that  "hardly  any  two  things, 

both  worthy  to  !»<•  called  preaching,  could  he  'e  unlike  than 

that  of  the  old  Pastor  and  that  of  the  young  candidate"  (Mr. 
Stuart  i.  That  of  the  latter  was  bold,  pointed,  evangelical, 
fervid,  electric.  It  was  replete  with  The  magnetic  personality 
of  the  miii  and  overmastered  his  hearers  with  the  powersof  the 
wo.-ld  To  come.  The  Bame  <|iialiTies  in  his  professor's  chair 
afterward  made  him  a  marvelous  inspiration  to  his  pupils  and  the 
;t  pioneer  in  >/\\  ing  Hebrew  and  Greek  exegesis  its  due 
prominence    in   ministerial   education.     The  tour  years  «>t  his 


LEONARD    BACON.  189 

pastorate  in  the  First  Church  were  marked  by  a  powerful  revi- 
val, which  greatly  enlarged  and  quickened  it  and  put  vital  reli- 
gion in  new  ascendency  among  the  people.  He  left  in  1810, 
to  take  the  professorship  which  he  so  long  adorned  in  the  oldest 
theological  seminary  of  the  country.  This  was  before  my  day  ; 
but  I  well  remember  that  my  parents  and  others  who  felt  the 
power  of  his  ministry  never  wearied  of  repeating  his  praises 
as  preacher  and  Pastor  t<>  the  generation  following.  I  once 
heard  his  successor,  Dr.  Taylor,  say  that  the  most  powerful 
preachers  to  whom  he  had  listened  were  Moses  Smart  and 
Asahel  Nettleton.  Not.  he  took  pains  to  say,  in  the  sense  of 
being  elaborate  and  magnificent  pulpit  orators,  like  Robert 
Hall,  but  in  the  sense  of  accomplishing  the  true  end  of  preach- 
ing. He  proceeded  to  illustrate  his  statement  by  sketching  a 
Bermon  of  each,  as  he  heard  it.  and  showing  what  in  them 
respectively  overpowered  the  audience  with  a  sense  of  Grod  and 
now. 

Dr.  Taylor  followed  Professor  Stuart,  after  an  interval  ex- 
ceeding two  years,  as  Pastor  of  the  church,  continuing  such 
from  April.  1812,  to  December,  L822.  Although  myself  horn 
Bometime  after  his  ordination,  my  recollections  of  him  as 
preacher  and  Pastor  during  the  latter  years  of  his  pastorate  arc 
vivid  and  distinct.  It  is  not  to  hie  subsequent  career,  the  bril- 
liant teacher  and  defender  of  the  theological  system  which  bore 
hi-  name.  Borne  peculiarities  of  which  I  was  unable  to  accept. 
notwithstanding  great  admiration  of  him  personally,  that  I 
now  refer.  I  touch  only  recollections  or  traditions  of  his  pas- 
torate. 

In  person  he  was  a  rare  Bpeciinen  of  manly  beauty.  Mi- 
frame  was  at  once  robust  and  symmetrical.  His  countenance 
in  all  its  parts  and  proportions  was  not  only  of  rare  strength 
and  beauty,  but,  with  lustrous  black  eye-  and  overhanging 
brows,  surmounted  by  a  massive  forehead,  once  called  by  \)\\ 
Bacon  the  "dome  of  thought,"  had  a  singular  majesty,  com- 
bined with  equal  geniality  of  expression.  A-  compared  with 
average  men,  there  was  something  imperial  in  the  man.  within 
and  without.  This,  of  itself,  especially  as  expressed  in  a  cor 
respondent  voice,  in  prayer-  and  sermons,  which  fully  articu- 
lated tliem.  made  a  profound  impression  upon  the  congrega 
1 1 


190  l,Ki>\  A.R1)    r.  \<  «>\. 

tion  even  upon  youth  and  children,  who,  like  myself,  could 
understand  little  of  the  deep  reasonings  which  formed  bo  much 
of  rlu'  web  and  woof  of  many  of  hi>  great  sermons.  The 
terms  "moral  agency,"  "moral  and  natural  ability,"  "moral 
and  natural  evil,"  ringing  oul  from  his  closely-reasoned  dis- 
courses, still  linger  in  my  memory,  as  do  some  of  his  solemn 
and  stirring  appeals  to  the  impenitent,  in  such  sermons  as  the 
"Harvesl  Past,"  while  I  do  not  forgel  bis  scathing  exposures 
and  rebukes  of  immorality  in  preaching  from  "A  false  balance 
is  abomination  to  the  Lord."  In  Lis  personal  and  pastoral  rela- 
tion- Dr.  Taylor  was  all  that  might  be  inferred  from  these 
special  traits  and  endowments,  at  once  so  winning  and  com- 
manding. Hi'  was  both  loved  and  revered;  enthroned  in  the 
hearts  of  his  people.  Four  revivals  of  greal  power  signalized 
his  ministry  of  less  than  twelve  years,  still  further  continuing 
the  advance  in  numbers  and  piety  begun  under  the  ministry  of 
his  predecessor.  During  his  incumbency  the  church  edifice, 
which  has  long  held  it>  place  as  a  model  one,  was  built. 

To  till  the  vacancy  arising  from  his  removal  to  the  chair  of 
didactic  theology  in  Vale  Divinity  School  was,  of  course,  no 
easy  task.  Among  the  candidates  either  thought  of  or  actually 
invited  to  it.  I  well  remember  the  names  of  Edward  Beecher, 
Carlos  Wilcox,  Samuel  H.  Cox  and  Albert  Barnes;  but  young 
Mr.  Bacon  was  finally  called,  after  more  than  two  years' trial 
of  candidates,  with  much  hesitation  and  a  considerable  minor- 
ity in  opposition,  not  so  much  from  any  positive  dislike  as  a 
not  unnatural  fear  that  one  so  young,  whatever  his  gifts, 
might  prove  unequal  to  the  demands  of  a  congregation  so 
large,  influential,  and  with  tastes  and  etandards  formed  by  such 
predecessors.  And  well  might  any  successor  of  them  ask  : 
••  Who  i-  sufficient  for  these  things  '." 

.\-ide  from  this  training,  the  material  of  the  congregation 
was  such  as  might  well  appal  not  only  Shallow  Splurges  and 
novices,  but  strong  and  mature  preachers.     In  the  middle  aisle 

I   well  remember  the  Stately  forms  of    Noah   Webster,  the  greal 

lexicographer;  .lame-   Hillhouse,  a  mighty  man  in  the  Senate 

0f  ,),,.  [Jnited  State-,  and  in  the  legislature  of  his  own  State. 
whose  public  spirit  made  New  Haven  a  city  of  elms  ami 
opened   it>  thoroughfares  of    transportation   ami  travel   to   the 


Leonard  bacon.  L91 

interior;  Eli  Whitney,  the  inventor  of  the  cotton-gin.  In 
pews  of  one  of  the  si< k-  aisles  I  saw  around  me  Seth  P. 
Staples,  Samuel  -I.  Hitchcock,  and  Dennis  Komberly,  among 
the  foremost  of  the  Connecticut  bar;  Jonathan  Knight,  the 
peer  of  the  highest  as  a  medical  practitioner  and  lecturer; 
Ilenrv  Trowbridge,  the  founder  of  the  great  mercantile  bouse 
of  II.  Trowbridge's  Suns;  Stephen  Twining,  assistant  treasurer 
of  Vale  College;  with  many  others,  not  only  in  this  but  other 
parts  of  the  house,  scarcely  less  eminent  in  high  walks  of  life. 
It  is  not  surprising  that  the  young  minister's  capacity  was  at 
once  severely  tested  ;  that,  as  with  mi  many  others,  his  first 
three  years  proved  the  "teething-time  of  his  ministry";  or 
that  those  were  not  wanting  who  were  keener  to  detect  points 
of  inferiority  to  his  predecessors  than  signs  of  promise  in  the 
rapid  development  of  rarest  </\\\>  peculiar  to  himself.  These, 
however,  soon  gradually  made  themselves  conspicuous  to  all 
and  unquestioned  by  any,  while  they  were  peculiarly  fitted  to 
the  era  of  his  consummate  strength  in  the  ministry. 

I  have  already  intimated  that  the  ■•new  departure'"  of  the 
church,  whose  beginning  was  almost  synchronous  with  that  of 
his  ministry,  was  in  the  way  of  moral  reform  and  reformatory 
agencies  and  organizations,  among  which  tlm-e  for  the  promo- 
tion of  temperance,  in  the  form  of  entire  abstinence  from  in- 
toxicating liquors  as  a  beverage,  was  foremost.  But  in  the 
wake  of  this  came  radical  movements  against  slavery,  which 
more  and  more  leavened  the  churches,  and  thence  politics,  till 
it-  overthrow  by  the  Civil  War.  A.mong  the  eddies  in  this 
current  were  various  fanaticisms  on  these  and  other  subjects 
Buch  as  perfectionism,  vegetarianism,  manual  labor  schools, 
together  with  eccentric  socialisms,  some  of  which  perished, 
while  others  developed  into  such  wart.- and  wens  of  the  body 
politic  a-  the  Oneida  Community  and  other  monstrosities. 
Ahoiit  this  time,  too.  Home  and  Foreign  Missions,  with  all  the 
agencies  of  gospel  propagandism  among  the  unevangelized  in 
this  and  other  lands,  received  an  unexampled  expansion. 
With  due  limitation-,  it   mighl   safely  he  -aid  that  the  revival 

era    of    the    lir.-t    third    of    the    century   w  a-  ciilminat  ing  and   the 

reformatory  and  missionary  era  of  the  next  third  of  it  wa- 
developing.     \"i   that   revivals  ceased   in  the  latter  period  or 


192  I  I  "\  \l:l'    B  \<  "X. 

thai  missions  and  moral  reform  enterprises  were  before  mi 
known;  1  >  1 1 1  thai  each  received  its  mosl  conspicuous  develop- 
menl  in  the  respective  periods  named.  American  revivals 
readied  their  zenith,  especially  in  New  Haven  and  Fale  Col- 
lege,  in  the  greal  awakening  of  1 831 .  In  its  full  noon-fide  Dr. 
Sereno  Dwight  said,  in  an  ecstasy  of  jubilation:  "I  do  not 
see  why  we  may  not  consider  the  Millennium  ;is  now  com- 
mencing." 

We  have  had  many  good  things  since  which  then  were  not  ; 
Imt  religious  awakenings,  not  entirely,  indeed,  hut  so  extended, 
pervasive  and  transforming  as  then  prevailed,  have  for  long, 
unless  in  exceptional  eases,  been  things  of  the  past.  The  con 
ditions  leading  to  them  have  changed.  The  Sunday  schools 
and  Young  Men's  Christian  Associations  have  hud  a  Large 
development.  Quiet  ingatherings  into  the  church  through 
and  from  these  have  largely  taken  the  place  of  those  mighty 
visitations  of  God  which  then  seized  great  numbers  grown  up 
to  manhood  in  Christian  congregations,  but  without  hope  and 
without  (  rod  in  the  world. 

During  this  era,  too,  the  power  of  the  press,  especially  in 
the  form  of  religious  journalism,  has  had  a  vast  development. 

The  people  have  acquired   a  distaste  for   the  old-style  ser i, 

too  often  a  skeleton  of  theological  abstractions,  dead,  dry,  and 
dull,  except  when  alive  and  hot  with  polemic  tire.  They 
craved  something  of  the  freshness  and  beauty  which  came 
from  literary  culture,  as  well  as  the  glow  of  impassioned  evan- 
gelical fervor  in  the  pulpit. 

To  meet  the  demands  of  such  a  period,  Dr.  Bacon  was 
remarkably  furnished.  During  his  educational  career,  he  had 
not,  indeed,  sough.1  eminent  scholarship.  To  original  genius, 
including  the  poetic  gift,  evinced  in  hymns  that  live  and  will 
live,  he  added  an  acquaintance  with  English  literature,  then 
rare,  especially  among  the  clergy,  ffe  was  thus  master  of  the 
purest  English  style  and  gained  a  breadth  of  view  and  versa- 
tility of  mind  which  not  only  gave  greal  chasteness,  vivacity, 
and  force  to  his  pulpit  exercises,  lmt  fitted  him  to  shine  with 
peculiar  brilliancy  in  all  miscellaneous  sermons  and  addresses 
.,ii  special  subjects  and  occasions.  For  many  years  he  was 
foremost  among  those  sought  to  adorn  and  enliven  great  days 


LEONARD    BACON.  L93 

with  great  discourses,  as  >>nv  who  in  this  line  had  no  peer.  He 
also  rapidly  gained  a  great  reputation  as  a  contributor  to  quar- 
terly, monthly,  and  weekly  journals.  For  years  his  articles  in 
the  Christian  Spectator  were,  if  not  the  most  ponderous,  the 
nmst  readable,  the  most  quickly  and  widely  read  of  any.  They 
were  Beldom  distinctively  theological.  They  struck  out  more 
into  tlu-  practical  and  reformatory,  the  evangelistic  and  mis- 
Bionary  departments  of  Christian  work.  They  were  spiced 
with  wit  ami  satire  at  the  expense  of  those  be  deemed  extreme 
in  their  radicalism  or  conservatism.  He  used  these  weapons 
with  increasing  caution  and  <i-entlenes>  as  advancing  years  mel- 
lowed his  spirit,  without  enfeebling  ln's  pen.  He  wrote  more 
upon  theology,  as  the  drift  id'  theological  discussion,  which  set 
in  after  the  Bushnell  controversy,  was  more  suited  to  his  gifts 
and  hit  tastes,  lie  pronounced  the  previous  New  England 
theology  "provincial."  In  this,  if  not  in  some  other  estimates 
of  Dr.  Bushnell's  theology,  as  related  to  what  preeeded  it,  I 
quite  agree.  He  was  more  an  ecclesiastic  than  a  theologian.  I 
could  say  much  more;  l>ut  space  forbids,  and  it  is  superfluous 
to  repeal  what  ha-  been  so  well  >ai<l  by  others. 

Such  a  trio  of  pastors  immediately  succeeding  each  other  in 
the  -aim-  church  and  together  presiding  over  it  so  long,  i> 
worth  noting.      The  like  is  rarely,  if  ever,  to  he  found  in  church 

annals. 


FROM    THE  INDEPENDENT. 


DR.  STORKS'  TRIBUTE  TO  DR.  BACON. 


[Only  one  of  the  original  four  members  of  the  editorial  staff 
of  TJu  Independent  now  Lives  to  speak  of  the  sudden  death 
of  their  gifted  and  beloved  senior  associate  the  Rev.  Leonard 
Bacon,  D.D.  We  know  our  readers  will  he  glad  to  sec  the 
following  from  the  Rev.  1 1.  S.  Storrs,  D.D.,  in  relation  to  this 
sad  event,  and  it  is  fitting  that  lie  should  appear  in  his  old  posi- 
tion in  our  editorial  columns.  | 

Brooklyn,  December  26,  L881. 

To  tl"   Editor  of  the  Tndept  ndi  nt : 

It  would  be  wholly  impossible,  in  the  fragments  of  time 
which  are  all  that  I  can  command  to-day,  to  present  any  tit  and 
sufficient  description  of  the  character  and  the  powers  of  our 
beloved  and  honored  friend.  Dr.  Bacon.  1  cannot  even  ivnr 
thily  express  my  personal  sense  of  affectionate  and  admiring 
honor  for  him.  and  my  grief  that  I  shall  qo1  see  again  his  face 
,,,,  earth.  Indeed,  it  can  hardly  Beem  strange  to  any,  that,  find- 
ing myself  tin'  lasl   survivor  of  those  who  had  early  editorial 

Control    of    the    paper    which  you    are  now  conducting,  I    woidd 

rather  ai  in  silence  for  a  time,  recalling  the  past  and  expecting 
the  future,  instead  of  writing  of  either  of  those  with  whom  my 
associations  were  once  so  close,  who  have  passed  before  me  into 


LEONARD    BACON.  L95 

the  land  of  the  "  King  in  Hi>  beauty."  Vet.  you  have  a  right 
to  ask  from  me  some  immediate,  if  inadequate  words  about 
him,  and  my  only  regret  is  that  I  cannot  lay  a  more  fitting 
wreath  on  the  coffin  which  so  soon  will  contain  all  that  was 
earthly  and  mortal  in  him.  One  cannot  help  but  wish,  for  the 
moment,  that  he  had  a  pen  as  rapid,  vivid,  as  graceful  in  touch, 
as  melodious  in  movement,  as  that  which  has  dropped  from  the 
-tilled  hand. 

My  special  personal  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Bacon  began  with 
in v  installation  in  Brooklyn  in  ls4n\  He  kindly  consented,  at 
my  invitation,  to  preach  the  sermon  on  that  occasion,  t<>  me 
so  eventful,  though  at  some  personal  inconvenience;  and  his 
Christian  interest  in  the  church  and  in  myself,  drew  me  at  once 
and  strongly  toward  him.  Tt  was  not,  however,  till  two  years 
afterward,  that  1  became  associated  with  him  in  the  editor's 
room  of  The  Independent;  and  in  the  interval  1  had  seen  him 
but  briefly,  and  not  often.  I  remember  still  the  shad.-  of 
timidity  with  which  I  entered  on  this  more  intimate  connec- 
tion with  him,  in  view  of  his  impressive  and  versatile  power-. 
his  large  reflection  and  observation  of  men.  his  keen  and  some- 
times can-tic  wit.  hi>  peculiar  decisiveness  of  conviction  and 
character;  but  a  brief  experience  of  his  thorough  faithfulness 
and  kindness  of  spirit,  of  the  readiness  with  which  he  received 
suggestions! from  those  who  hesitated  t  >  accept  his  opinions,  of 
his  almost  deferential  courtesy  toward  his  younger  associates, 
sufficed  to  put  me  wholly  at  my  ease  in  the  new  and  closer  rela 
tionstohim;  and  there  was  never  afterward  a  moment,  while 

those  editorial  relalioiis  continued,  in  which  I  did  not  know- 
that  he  would  judge  the  work  of  his  colleagues  more  leniently 
than  his  own.  and  that  hi-  words  of  affectionate  recognition 
of  whatever  they  did.  thai  seemed  to  him  effectively  to  aid 
the  greal  cause  of  goodness  and  truth,  would  be  hearty  and 
prompt. 

Hi-  mind  was  not  only  fertile  in  suggestions;  it  was  cer 
tainly  the  quickesl  mind,  in  the  grasp  and  measurement  of 
any  thoughl  expressed  by  another,  which  I  have  met.  Before, 
indeed,  this  was  fully  uttered,  he  had  often  seized  and  adjudged 
it.  If  he  accepted  it,  a*  he  oftentimes  did,  he  put  it  into  a 
'onn  of   words   more  definite,  nervous,  and  energetic  than  it 


196  LEON  \  IM»    BACON. 

firsl  bad  liad.  It  he  rejected  or  dissented  from  it,  hie  answer 
w;i>  as  instant,  yel  often  as  complete  and  subtly  exact,  as  if 
he  had  been  considering  chiefly  thai  special  proposition  for  an 
hour  beforehand.     Vet  whether  il  was  assent  or  dissenl   which 

he    uttered,    bis    mind,  when   at    leisure,   simply    took    that    as   a 

starting-point,  and  swepl   along  various  and  diversified  tracks, 
running  backward,  outward,  forward,  in  the  swifi  and  exhilaral 
ing  processes  of  his  thought,  till  both  he  and  his  hearer  had  to 
come  hack  at  last  with  a  hearty  Laugh  to  the  now-  imperceptibly 
distant  poinl  from  which  together  they  had  started. 

In  this  respect  he  presented  a  singular  and  picturesque  con- 
trasl  to  Dr.  Leavitt  "  Brother  Leavitt,"  as  he  always  affection- 
ately called  him,  with  whom  his  relations  were  of  absolute 
mutual  cordiality  and  respect.  Dr.  Leavitt's  mind  moved 
steadily  and  strongly  along  well-defined  and  very  important 
paths  of  thought,  like  a  powerful  piece  of  artillery,  or,  better, 
like  a  richly-loaded  and  stately  treasure-wagon,  heaped  with 
assorted  knowledges,  matured  judgments,  the  gathered  products 
of  studv,  observation  and  careful  reflection.  Dr.  Bacon's 
mind,  in  the  swift  interchanges  of  editorial  conference,  moved 
around  the  other  like  a  brilliant  and  dashing  troop  of  cavalry, 
taking  from  it,  adding  to  it,  always  pursuing  the  same  general 
course,  hnt  careering  away  in  gallant  and  graceful  curves  out 
to  the  horizon,  though  aever  too  remote  for  prompt  assistance, 
for  needed  direction,  for  animating  impulse,  or  for  splendid 
defense.  1  know  that  Dr.  Thompson  felt,  as  I  did,  that  hardly 
any  mental  stir  or  moral  stimulation  could  he  keener  or  more 
delightful  than  that  which  came  to  us  in  those  IVekman-Street 
rooms,  when  some  large  topic  hail  to  he  considered,  and  the 
course  of  the  paper  concerning  it  to  he  settled.  I  was  the 
youngest  in  the  group,  and  the  least  important;  hut  I  went 
bome  often  feeling  as  if  electric  currents  had  secretly  mingled 
with  my  blood. 

In  the  directions  in  which,  for  our  purposes,  we  then  espe- 
cially needed  knowledge,  Dr.  Bacon's  resources  were  of  a  value 

quite    inexpressible.      I    do   not    think    that    he   impressed  me  as 

one  widelj  and  sympathetically  familiar  with  the  greater  phil- 
osophical writers,  though  his  mind  was  always  keenly  alert  for 
metaphysical    or    for  ethical    discussion:    nor  did   1,  perhaps, 


LEONARD    BACON.  Ill, 

understand  at  that  time,  as  well  as  afterward,  how  wide  a 
reader  he  had  been,  as,  indeed,  he  always  continued  to  be,  in 
the  best  English  literature,  or  in  the  departments  of  classical 
and  historical  study  ;  but  his  knowledge  of  men.  and  of  the 
movements  of  opinion,  in  hi>  own  region  not  only,  but  all  over 
tin-  country  :  hi>   knowledge  of  the  history  of  the    New   Ener- 

n 

land  churches  and  of  the  theological  changes  among  them; 
Ins  knowledge  of  missions,  at  home  and  abroad,  and  of  the 
great  evangelical  societies  for  the  promotion  of  Christian  in- 
terests, many  of  which  he  had  helped  to  found  or  early  direct  ; 
his  knowledge  of  other  denominations  of  Christians,  their  his- 
tory and  spirit,  and  his  general  clear  insight  into  their  excel- 
lences and  their  defects:  Ids  remarkable  knowledge  of  the  life 
of  historical  families  in  New  England,  as  well  as  of  the  polit- 
ical development  of  the  country,  of  the  men  who  had  beeu 
leaders  in  it,  of  the  measures  with  which  they  had  been  identi- 
fied, and  especially  of  the  relations  which  they  or  their  several 
policies  had  sustained  to  the  great  anti-slavery  movement  in 
the  Nation  all  these  were  a  constant  source  of  surprise,  and  a 
constant  incentive  to  faithful  work,  as  well  as  an  unfailing 
magazine  of  fresh  supplies  of  wealth  and  strength  to  the  col- 
umns of  the  paper.  When  stirred  by  discussion,  he  poured 
them  forth  with  prodigal  liberality;  and  if  a  phonographer 
could  have  caught  his  talk,  while  he  himself  knew  uothing  of 
it.  the  record  would  have  beeu  often  more  opulent,  not  unfre 
quently  more  eloquent,  than  anything  which  he  afterward 
wrote,  or  than  any  of  his  elaborate  addresses.  Ilis  mind 
seemed  -imply  full  of  such  knowledges;  and  they  broke  from 
it.  on  lit  occasion,  in  shining  and  enriching  abundance. 

A-  a  writer,  for  the  effective  impression  of  hi>  thought,  Dr. 
Bacon  at  liin  besl  seemed  to  me  then$  has  seemed  to  me  ever 
Bince,  of  a  nearly  unsurpassed  excellence.  The  easy,  elegant, 
rapid,  and  powerful  movement  of  his  mind  appeared  to  force 
words  without  an  effort  to  do  hie  bidding,  till  they  dropped 
into  sentences  terse,  clear-cut,  and  epigrammatic,  or  flowing  in 
melodious  beauty,  as  if  it  had  been  spontaneously  done,  with 
out  particular  forethought  or  care.  lie  wrote  best,  I  always 
thought,   under  -iron-    pre  -jure;  hi«  sermons  being   rareh  as 

Btriking    a-    hi-    article-,    though    with    passages    often    of   ureal 


I  98  I  E(  »\  \  i:i>    i;  ICON. 

power;  his  best  articles  being  often  produced  at  a  beat.  Wlial 
disturbed  or  manacled  others  only  stimulated  him.  and  his 
keenest  and  mosl  pungent  discussions  ot  subjects  were  some 
times  produced  while  various  voices  were  speaking  in  the  room, 
and  the  printer's  devil  was  waiting  impatient  for  liis  copy. 
His  self-poise  seemed  never  impaired  by  such  outward  inci 
dents,  and  the  sheets  would  go  to  the  boy's  band,  one  after  an- 
other, with  hardly  an  erasure  or  change  from  first  to  Inst.  Yet, 
when  the  sentences,  so  rapidly,  easily,  smoothly  written,  came 
to  be  read,  in  the  next  day's  columns,  they  were  often  rich 
with  allusion,  brilliant  with  wit,  ringing  and  rhythmic  in  their 
cadence,  as  if  they  had  been  laboriously  prepared  in  the  still 
air  of  delightful  studies.  Without  effort  for  ornament,  bis 
style  seemed  then  simply  instinct  with  beauty,  and  with  a 
uative  supple  energy.  The  eagerness  of  his  thought  gave  pre- 
cision and  impulse  to  Ids  utterance  of  it.  His  perfect  master) 
of  a  racy  and  noble  vocabulary  made  words  trip  to  him  as 
nimble  servitors.  Hi>  intentness  on  the  end  which  he  mean! 
to  accomplish  molded  bis  paragraphs  into  a  vigorous  grace  of 
proportion,  almost  like  that  of  the  athlete's  limbs;  while  the 
description  which  Fisher  Ames  is  -aid  to  have  given  of  Hamil- 
ton'- wit  to  the  friend  who  told  him  of  the  death  of  the  states- 
man might,  almost  without  exaggeration,  have  been  often 
applied  to  the  hest  writing  of  Dr.  Bacon  :  "  His  wit  was  as 
sharp  as  yonder  thistle-blade,  and  [after  a  pause]  as  delicate  as 
It-  down."  I  recall  many  passages  of  his  writing,  editorial 
and  Other,  which  seem  to  me  as  well  deserving  to  he  studied 
now.  a-  tine  examples  of  an  admirable  style,  as  any  of  Addison 
«,!•  of   Macaulay. 

Of  Dr,  Bacon's  personal  qualities,  moral  and  spiritual,  others 

must  write  who  can  do  it  with  an  ampler  leisure  than  mine, 
perhaps    without    that    throb   in    the    pulse   which   comes   to   me 

-till  when  I  think  of  him  as  gone.     It   goes  without  saying,  to 

all  who  knew  him,  that  he    had    a-  deal'  and  firm  a   faith  as  any 

man  has  ever  had  in  what  iscalled  the  "  evangelical"  rendering 
of  New  Testament  doctrine,  and  in  the  Lord  whom  that  pre- 
sents to  the  love  and  trust,  the  adoration  and  obedience,  of 
human  heart-.  One  figure  was  equally  dominant  to  him  in 
Gospels  and  in  Epistles;  one,  in  all  the  history  of  the  church; 


LEONARD    BACON.  199 

one,  in  the  present  complicated  and  changeful  movements  of 
society,  the  collisions  of  ideas,  the  inrush  of  new  instruments 
for  the  n>e  of  mankind,  the  contentions  in  Christendom,  or  the 
impacts  of  its  force  <>n  barbarian  tribes.  It  was  the  figure  of 
Him  whose  lowly  birth  yesterday  recalled,  whose  miracles 
the  disciples  delighted  to  record,  whom  John  exalted  amid  the 
Eternities  in  his  majestic  and  tender  proem,  whom  Paul  beheld 
in  the  sudden  brightness,  and  from  whom  came  the  subsequent 
incessant  ami  sublime  inspirations  of  his  kingly  life — the  figure 
of  Ilim  whom  Pilate  crucified,  but  on  whose  head  the  exile  of 
Patmos  -aw  afterward  many  crowns!  In  the  apprehension  of 
the  personal  Christ,  Brother,  Teacher.  Redeemer,  King,  man- 
ifesting God,  making  atom  incut,  and  at  last  to  conquer  the 
world,  Dr.  Bacon's  inmost  spiritual  experience  had  root  and 
life.  His  best  discourses  *were  on  this  theme;  his  conversation 
took  always  a  tenderer  and  a  statelier  tone  when  he  approached 
it;  and  the  sweet  and  solemn  sublimity  of  his  prayers  caught 
its  mighty  and  delicate  harmony  from  his  unfailing  adoration 
of  God  revealed  in  his  Son.  The  law  of  his  Bpiritand  the  life 
of  his  thought  was  in  this  sovereign  conception  of  the  Lord, 
lie  drew  to  men.  everywhere,  who  showed  in  their  minds  the 
counterpart  of  it.  The  early  life  of  the  New  England  churches 
was  precious  to  his  memory,  the  present  forms  of  administra- 
tion in  the  churches  which  have  followed  them  were  dear  to 
his  heart,  because,  apart  from  a  living  Christ,  central  and  su- 
preme, there  could  ha\e  been  no  glory  in  the  past,  there  could 
be  now  do  power,  progress,  or  even  coherence  in  such  societies. 
With  an  emphasis  than  winch  that  of  the  apostle  was  hardly 
profounder,  he  could  saj  anywhere:  "I  am  not  ashamed  of 
the  <>o-pel  of  Christ  :  tor  it  is  the  power  of  God,  unto  salva- 
tion, to  every  one  that  believeth." 

Out  of  this  came  hi-  life-long  interest  in  the  missionary 
work,  in  hi-  own  land  and  in  others;  and  out  of  this  hi-  con 
Btant  effort  to  get  Christianity  practically  realized,  bo  far  a-  his 
influence  might  extend,  in  the  habits  and  institutions  of  society 
around  him.  Mi-  interest  in  temperance,  in  ami  slavery,  in  the 
lie-t  met  hod-  of  either  t  he  loweror  the  higher  education,  in  social 
progresH,  and  in  even  political  reform,  had  always  its  source  in 

hi-  \\i-h  to  make  societ}    itself  a   temple  of   the   Lord,  illumined 


200  LEONARD    BACON. 


b\  bis  presence,  as  well  as  erected  and  molded  for  his  praise. 
Ii  «ras  nol  al  all  because  he  had  taken  philosophical  ethics  a1  a 
particular  vivid  angle,  and  had  seen  the  necessary  collision  of 
thai  with  social  customs  or  traditional  politics,  thai  In- was  a 
reformer  when  it  cosl  much  to  be  such  :  bu1  it  was  because  he 
eould  no1  be  satisfied-  his  conscience  and  hearl  forbade  him 
to  be  satisfied-  -till  the  law  of  Christ  was  regnanl  among  men, 
and  civilization  had  become  "  only  a  secular  name  for  Chris- 
tianity." He  was  in  this  essentially  akin  with  the  English 
reformers;  and  with  those  who  faced  the  winds  and  the  wil- 
derness on  our  stormy  shores,  that  here  they  mighl  found  a 
church  with  no  lordship  Bave  that  of  God's  Son,  and  a  state 
interpenetrated  in  all  its  parts  by  his  benign  authority  and  rule. 
He  was  like  them  in  their  aim,  though  by  no  means  wholly 
SO  in  their  methods;  and  he  had,  like  them,  the  courage  of  his 
convictions,  and  was  never  afraid  of  what  man  could  do  to  him. 
The  tranquillity  of  his  courage  was  not  merely  tested  among 
the  Koords,  in  L851,  when  his  life  hung  by  a  thread,  and  when 
bis  tender  and  lofty  prayer  ascended  for   his  captors,  as  well  as 

for  himself  and  his  companions.  It  met,  not  nnfrequently, 
sharp  tests  at  home.  There  were  times  in  the  early  history  of 
Tin  Independent  when  the  intensity  of  feeling  againsl  it,  in 
important  and  prominent  circles,  was  like  the  very  blast  of  a 
furnace  :  when  men  who  took  it,  who  even  casually  read  it, 
were  regarded  as  hopeless  and  intractable  radicals;  and  when 
to  be  its  senior  editor  was  to  be  a  target,  in  the  press  and  on  the 
platform,  for  many  missiles  angrily  hurled.  I  have  no  doubt 
that  nature  was  very  Largely  helpful  to  grace  in  the  quiet  com- 
posure  with  which  Dr.  Bacon  bore  such  as>aults.  He  knew  his 
resources,  and  expected  his  opportunity  ;  and  when  the  oppor- 
tunity came  there  was  no  doubt  whatever  in  his  mind  that  the 
"whip  of  small  cords"  was  still  a  useful  Christian  instrument, 
and  the  scourging  sarcasms  with  which  lit;  smote  and  stung  his 
assailants  had  often  a  most  salutary,  if  not  an  immediately 
soothing  effect.  But,  aside  altogether  from  his  personal  con- 
sciousness of  his  singular  powers  for  self-defense,  he  had  an 
assured  tranquillity  of  spirit  amid  all  commotions,  because  he 
was  working,  according  to  his  conception  of  things,  for  what 
Was  agreeable  tO   the    doctrine,    the    law,   and  the  spirit  of  the 


LEON  \i:r>    BACON.  201 

Master;  and  he  had  no  fear  that  God  would  so  down  in  an\ 
struggle,  or  that  the  fiercest  passions  <>f  men  could  countervail 
IIi>  mightv  plan-,  against  whom  the  heathen  have  raged  from 
the  outset,  and  the  people  have  imagined  a  thonsand  vain 
tliin_ 

lit-  meant  to  be  useful,  and  so  far  as  he  could,  to  serve  his 
generation,  before  he.  like  the  father.-,  should  -fall  on  sleep," 
and  no  doubt  he  desired  and  properly  valued  positions  of  emi- 
nence, which  might  serve  to  make  his  usefulness  wider;  but  1 
never  -aw  the  least  desire  or  sensibility  in  him  to  popular  fame 
the  least  care  whether  his  name  would  he  repeated  or  not  when 
lie  himself  should  have  gone  hence.  If  the  Master  was  hon- 
ored, that  was  enough.  If  his  influence  might  live,  he  cared 
little  for  reputation.  If  his  own  conscience  approved  his  course, 
I  do  not  imagine  that  he  was  in  the  least  solicitous  whether  or 
how  long  the  breath  of  men  should  continue  to  syllable  his 
name.  He  has  hi-  reward  in  an  influence  that  may  not  con- 
tinue apparent,  hut  that  can  hardly  cease  to  he  felt  while  the 
Christian  life  of  the  continent  is  unfolded. 

By  this  sincerity  and  genuineness  of  spirit,  by  the  constant 
impulse  to  he  abreast  with  the  time-,  a-  well  a-  by  hi-  reverent 
piety  and  hi-  unfailing  Christian  faith,  lie  kept,  to  even  a  mar- 
velous degree,  the  undecaying  youth  of  his  spirit,  and  was  as 
fresh  in  hi-  enthusiasm,  a-  vital  and  eager  in  his  interest  in 
subjects,  a-  keenly  observant  of  the  tendencies  of  thought,  a- 
tender  and  strong  in  personal  affections,  at  eight)  years  of  age, 
a-  lie  had  been  at  fifty  or  at  thirty  ;  yet  he  felt  all  the  time  the 
nearer  approach  of  the  great  Immortality,  and  not  unfrequently 
made  reference  to  it.  The  lasl  sermon  which  he  preached  in 
my  pulpit,  now  some  years  Bince,  was  on  the  text,  "  For  now-  i- 
our  salvation  nearer  than  when  we  believed."     Those  who  have 

been  more  familiar  than   I.  in  later  year-,  with  hi-  public  servi 
Ces  of  instruction  and   prayer,  have  told  me  that   more  than  ever 

before  have  hi-  thoughts  been  full  of  the  pathos  of  dependence, 
ami  the  sweetness  of  hope;  that  more  tender  than  ever  have 
heeii  hi-  m i ii i-t rati- in-  to  the  sick,  the  dying,  and  t he  bereaved; 
that  more  than  ever,  without  hindrance  or  weight,  ha-  his  spiril 

-oared     upward     in     that    office    "1      prayer,     in     which     the    loft  \ 

rhythm  of  hi-  words,  caughl    largely  from  the  Scriptures,  ha- 


202  I . I  <  »\  \  i:l>    BACON. 

always  seemed  the  011I3  appi*opriate  and  adequate  vehicle  for 
liis  reverential  ascriptions  of  praise,  for  his  hearl  searching  con 
fessions  of  sin,  liis  aspirations  for  lioliness,  and  liis  'reverent 
thanksgiving.  He  grew  Baintlier  as  lie  grew  older.  Touching 
the  past  —rill,  in  experience  and  memory,  he  touched  the  future 
with  more  confidenl  hope.  A  few  weeks  since,  as  I  left  the 
study  in  which  I  had  found  him  busily  al  work,  though  even 
then  the  terrible  pain  had  repeatedly  -mitten  him  with  it.- sure 
premonition  of  coming  death,  his  lasl  words  were,  as  he  pressed 
my    hand    with    unusual    strength,   and    looked    downward    with 

moistened  eyes:  "God  bless  you,  my  dear  lu-other,  always!" 
I  could  not  feel  then  that  I  was  parting  from  him,  after  the  inti- 
maev  of  a  whole  generation,  for  the  last  time.     I  thought  aarain 

to  hear  the  talk  which  had  SO  often  been  a  delight,  and  to 
touch  the  hand    so  often  laid  on  the   lexer-   of    influence,  which 

had  borne  so  easily  multiplied  burdens.  Thank  God  for  the 
knowledge  that,  when  again  I  see  hi-  face,  hi'  will  have  walked 
with  Paul  in  Paradise,  and  have  seen,  like  the  others  who  went 
before,  the  vision  of  the  face  of  Christ! 

•  Ever  faithfully  yours, 

P.  S.  Storrs. 


I-'UoM    THE  INDEPENDENT. 


LEONARD    BACON. 


Leonard  Bacon  is  (lend!  What  he  was  to  us  he  was  to  a 
great  multitude  of  his  fellow-citizens,  who  have  listened  for 
liis  voice  and  who  have  felt  that  order,  good  government,  vir- 
tue, religion,  and  the  best  interests  of  society  were  safer  and 
better  while   he  lived.      His  death,  last   Saturday  morniner,  of  a 

form  '>!'  heart  disease,  re ved   from  the  world   a   life  which 

had  in  it  more  than  fifty  commanding  years,  and  ended,  at  last, 
within  a  few  week-  of  the  eightieth  birthday,  with  as  man} 
and  various  interests  a-  ever  reposing  in  him.  His  vital  forces 
appeared  to  be  unsapped.  He  walked  erect,  with  the  clastic, 
firmly-planted  step  which  distinguished  him  through  life. 

■  Hi-  youth  'gains!  time  and  -vk-  had  ever  spurned  " 

with  such  prosperous  art  that  eighty  years  seemed  onlyto  have 
gathered  int..  him  "some  smack  of  age  ....  some  relish  of 
the  saltness  of  time.'*  Excepl  tor  intimation- which  had  gone 
abroad  that  there  were  grounds  tor  apprehending  a  disorder 
which  respecta  neither  youth  nor  age,  it  would  have  occurred 
to  none  ..!  his  neighbors  that  they  might  n..t  continue  t.> 
reckon  among  the  world's  workers  this  wonderful  octogenarian, 
who  was  now  displaying  in  old  age  the  qualities  "I  youth,  as  in 
youth  he  had  displayed  the  mature  qualities  of  age. 

Leonard  Bacon  was  born  February  19,  1802,  at  Detroit,  and, 
entering  5Tale  at  the  age  of   fourteen   years,  wae  graduated   in 


20  I  u-:<  >\  \  i;i>    BACON. 

the  class  of  1820,  whose  valedictorian  was  Theodore  l>.  Wool- 
-«\.  the  revered  ex-Presiden1  of  Yule,  with  whom  lie  bas 
maintained  a  life-long  friendship,  lie  studied  for  the  Chris- 
tian ministry  a1  Amdover,  where  he  gave  indications  of  those 
commanding  powers  which  were  destined  to  make  liim  ;i  ruler 
among  men.  One  of  his  fellow-students  and  friends  has  pre 
served  a  characteristic  anecdote,  which  is  too  arood  to  We  lost, 
that  the  young  student,  by  Ids  hold,  aggressive  methods  in 
public  discussion,  raised  as  much  of  a  storm  as  there  is  room 
for  in  a  well-regulated  theological  seminary,  and  was  visited  by 
a  committee,  led  by  a  youth  in  whose  composition  piety  and 
dullness  were  evenly  mixed.  "  Brother  Bacon,"  lie  ran  on. 
>-  for  your  own  sake  give  ii|>  tins  fault.  It  is  the  one  thing, 
Brother  Bacon,  between  you  and  greatness.  Give  it  up, 
Brother  Bacon,  and  you  are  sure  to  he  a  much  greater  man." 
The  young  Bacon,  who,  with  all  his  polemic  force,  had  in  him 
a  good  infusion  of  the  meekness  which  helped  Moses  to  rule, 
bore  all  patiently,  and,  finally,  when  silence  ceased  to  he 
golden,  dismissed  the  meeting  with  the  reply:  "  But,  Brother, 
1  am  already  a  greater  man  than  I  know  what  to  do  with." 

In  L825  he  was  ordained  to  the  Christian  ministry,  and  set 
over  the  ('enter  Church,  at  New  Haven,  whose  pulpit  had 
been  raised  to  a  great  height  of  influence  by  the  eminent 
divines  who  had  held  it,  the  last  among  whom  had  been  the 
late  Nathaniel  W.  Taylor,  the  distinguished  founder  of  the 
theology  which  is  known  sometimes  by  his  name  and  some- 
times as  that  of  New  Haven. 

His  congregations  would  hardly  claim  that  at  au\  period  of 
his  ministry  he  was  a  great  preacher,  though  they  can  never 
forget  that  in  occasional  sermons  he  displayed  many  of  the 
highest  and  besl  gifts  of  the  preacher.  Ordinarily,  his  style 
was  to<3  literary  to  he  impassioned;  hut,  when  the  mood  was 
on  him  and  the  occasion  suited,  it  was  easy  for  him  to  throw 
the  orator's  -pell  over  the  congregation  and  by  turns  awe, 
delight,  or  convince  them.  His  voice,  which  was  not  unerr- 
ingly trained  to  fall  into  sympathetic  tones,  was  one  of  great 
native  capacity  and  Bweetness,  which,  in  the  happy  use  of  it, 
Berved  to  express  the  -hades  and  points  of  his  pungent  wit,  or 
delicate    humor.       It    flowed    out    then    in    rhythmic   cadences. 


LEONARD    BACON.  205 

which  carried  through  the  audience  a  delightful  impression  of 
easy  mastery  or,  like  a  well-drawn  cord,  threw  his  arrows  far 
and  to  the  mark.  His  manner  in  the  pulpit  was  that  kind  of 
dignified  propriety  which  is  never  dull  and  sometimes  rises  to 
the  highest  inspiration. 

Dr.  BacoD  was  familiar  with  theology,  but  was  not  in  the 
strict  meaning  of  the  word  a  theologian,  though  for  several 
years  previous  to  the  appointment  of  Dr.  Harris  he  taught  the 
classes  in  the  Vale  Seminary  the  divine  science.  ILi>  genera] 
position  was  that  of  the  New  Haven  School,  but  he  held  it 
liberally.  On  this  point  we  may  remind  our  readers  that  Dr. 
Bacon  did  not  sympathize  with  the  prosecution  of  the  late  Dr. 
Bushnell,  but  was  his  fast  friend  to  the  end.  and  that  whatever 
conservatism  there  was  in  him  was  of  that  kind  that  held  the 
root  in  the  ground  to  grow,  and  not  of  the  kind  which  is  fatal 
to  progress,  nor  to  the  vitality  and  the  fecundity  of  thought. 

The    cliurdi     over    which     he    was    settled     was   the    historic 

church  of  John  Davenport,  whose  two  hundredth  anniversary 
was  approaching.  This  may  have  stimulated  his  historic  tastes, 
which  were  always  strong,  and  led  him  into  the  researches 
which  culminated  first  in  a  Beries  of  discourses,  and  then  in 
their  publication  under  the  title  of  '^Bacon's  Historical  Dis- 
courses." This  volume  fixed  his  reputation  as  a  master  of 
literary  Btyle  and  as  an  historical  scholar;  a  reputation  which, 
as  far  as  the  annals  of  the  Congregational  churches  and  of  the 
State  of  Connecticul  go,  he  shared  only  with  Dr.  Dexter  and 
.1    Hammond  Trumbull. 

He  was  the  author  of   Beveral  other  works,  of  which  we  only 

mention  here  "The  Genesis  of  the  New  England  Churches." 
lie  wrote  often  and  effectively  for  the  Christia/n  Spectator  and 
afterward  for  the  New  fflngla/nder  on  a  wide  variety  of  topic-. 
More   brillianl    replies  can    hardlj    be   found    in   controversial 

literature    than    the  defense  he  printed  la-t  -iiinmer  in  the   New 

Englander  of  the  righl  of  the  Congregational  clergy  of  Con 

necticut  to  the  place  they  have  in  the  corporation  of  Yale 
College,  a  production  which  U  only  to  he  matched  by  hi>  own 
•■  Dryasdusl  NTiew"  of  the  mutter,  published  Borne  years  ago  in 
the  same  quarterly  (a-  it   was  then),  to  vindicate  the  clerical 

management  of  the  atlaii-  of  the  college  auain-t  an  attack 
made  <>n   it. 

I.. 


•jut;  l,Kn\  \i;|.    BACON. 

Of  Dr.  Bacon's  connection  with  Yale  we  musl  speak  brieny. 
At  the  appointinenl  of  Professor  Woolsey  to  I >* •  president,  he 
resigned  bis  place  in  the  corporation,  t<>  make  a  vacancy  for 
ex-Presiden1  Day.  Too  long  an  interval  was  allowed  to  elapse 
before  he  was  reappointed  to  his  old  position  for  the  besl 
interests  of  all  parties  concerned.  He  was.  however,  reap- 
pointed and  bas  been  recognized  to  the  presenl  time  as  one  of 
the  mosl  capable  and  efficienl  members  of  the  board.  We  be 
lieve  it  was  in  L866  thai  he  was  relieved  of  all  responsibility 
for  active  dntj  as  Pastor  of  the  Center  Church,  and  called  to 
the  chair  of  theology  in  the  5Tale  Theological  Seminary,  which 
lie  filled  until  the  appointment  of  Dr.  Harris,  in  1871.  Since 
that  time  lie  lias  continued  t<>  deliver  lectures  to  the  classes  on 
ecclesiastical  polity  and  Anieriean  church  history.  We  ought 
not  to  omit  in  this  connection  that  he  is  the  author  of  several 
hymns,  one  of  which,  at  least,  ha-  become  classical  for  those 
who  love  the   Puritans  ; 

••o]i!  Cod.  beneath  thy  guiding  hand." 

Dr.  Bacon  was  early  recognized  as  a  Congregational  leader. 
What  he  achieved  in  this  view  of  his  career  is  a  part  of  the 
religious  history  of  the  country  and  requires  only  to  he  men- 
tioned here  in  this  review  of  his  full  and  varied  life.  It  may 
have  been  the  thoughl  of  his  own  cradle   in   Michigan  that  Led 

him    to   throw  his  heart,  as  he  did.  into  the  West,  and  strive  to 

carry  thither  the  churches  of  the  " ancient  faith  and  order  of 
New  England,"  as  he  delighted  to  call  them.  At  all  events. 
the  Wot  has  had  no  better  friend  anywhere  among  all  her 
sons,  by  adoption  or  by  birth,  than  Leonard  Bacon;  none  who, 
from  first  to  last,  has  done  more  for  her  churches,  her  colleges, 
her  schools.  In  the  Home  Missionary  Society,  in  the  American 
Board  for  Foreign  Missions,  in  councils,  associations,  and  pub- 
lic meetings  of  nil  kinds,  in  the  pulpit  and  on  the  platform,  by 
pen,  by  debate,  and  in  the  committee-room,  all  over  the  land, 
In-  has  made  himself  felt,  working  in  right  manly  fashion  to 
build  up  the  churches  and  to  promote  the  faith. 

A>  to  Dr.  Bacon's  anti-slavery  record,  there  was  no  time  in 
hi-  life  niter  Id-  ordination  to  the  ministry  when  he  did  not 
fed  tor  the  slave  and   againsl  slavery,      lie  took  an  instant  and 


LEONARD    BACON.  201 

active  interest  in  the  Ajnistad  captives,  and  the  contention  of 
wits  between  himself  and  Ralph  [ngersoll  on  the  occasion  of 
the  famous  trial  is  Btill  remembered  at  New  Haven.  The 
ethical  question  which  lav  at  the  bottom  of  the  slavery  agita 
tion  was  settled  in  hi>  mind  from  the  first;  hut  he  was  not 
clear  as  to  the  policy  t<>  be  pursued.  He  went  t<>  hear  Mr. 
Garrison,  with  how  much  hope  of  finding  the  required  Leader 
in  him  we  do  not  know;  but,  if  he  did  not  go  with  an  open 
and  candid  mind,  it  was  the  first  and  lasl  time  in  his  life  he 
approached  a  great  question  in  that  blinded  way.  At  all  events, 
he  saw  neither  a  leader  nor  a  policy  in  Mr.  Garrison.  For 
years  he  gave  himself  to  the  colonization  scheme,  and  we  have 
within  these  few  days  seen  it  stated,  in  a  Leading  and  responsi- 
ble print,  that  he  did  not  abandon  this  movement  until  about 
Is- ."a>.  and  that  why  he  abandoned  it  he  never  explained;  a 
\i-ry  curious  assertion,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  TJu  Inde- 
pendent was  founded  in  L848,  with  Leonard  Bacon  as  the  lead- 
ing editor,  associated  with  Dr.-.  Thompson,  Storrs,  and  Leavitt, 
and  that  those  editors  said  in  their  address  to  the  public  "  We 
take  our  stand  (or  five  soil,"  and  kept  the  address  with  those 
words  and  more  to  the  same  effect  in  it  standing  printed 
through  the  eleven  firsl  numbers.  Moreover.  Dr.  Bacon  had 
taken  this  ground  long  before,  had  been  attacked  and  maligned 
for  doing  so  and  charged  with  inconsistency.  He  avowed  the 
change  of  opinion   in  an  open,  manly  fashion,  which,  surely, 

cannot  have  passed  OUl  of  the  memory  of  men  so  soon,  declar- 
ing   that    the    only  consistency    which    was  worth  the  name  was 

that  in  which  a  man  reserved  the  right  to  change  bis  opinions 
when  required  by  the  evidence  or  the  discovery  of  truth  to 
do  bo. 

A-   Ion-   ago  a-    L827  .-in  article  in  the  Christian  Spectator. 

from  the  pen  of  the  late  .lo-hna   Leavitt,  had  struck    a    spark   in 

Dr.  Bacon's  mind  which  kindled  to  a  Same,  and  became  ulti- 
mately not    only  the    principle    he    adopted,    bill  that  on  which 

emancipation  was  ultimately  effected. 

Dr.    Leavitt   contended   that    the  Constitution    was   not    the 

covenant     with  evil    the  GarrisoniailS    held    it    to  he;    but    that    it 

wa-  for  freedom,  and  that  wherever  the  Constitution  was  the 
sole  source  of  political  institutions  il  planted  freedom.     It  was 


•Jos  LEON  v  i;i>   B  ICON. 

hi>  belief  thai  the  ring  of  free  States  drawn  around  the  others 
would  strangle  slavery.  Thai  was  the  Free  Soil  doctrine.  It 
was  al-"  the  vde\*  of  the  matter  taken  by  the  disunion  leaders 
and  was  the  fate  which  they  opposed  with  secession. 

This  view  of  the  matter  was  carried  into  The  I  ml,  />,  ml,  nl. 
and  advocated  there,  with  what  ability  and  with  what  command- 
ing influence,  the  whole  country  knows.  It  is  the  glory  of  The 
Independent  thai  it  opened  fire  in  its  first  number  on  the  line 
of  battle  which,  sixteen  years  later,  was  crowned  with  success. 

In  1848  \h-.  Leonard  Bacon,  Dr.  Joseph  P.  Thompson  and 
Dr.  Richard  S.  Storrs  became  the  responsible  editors  oi  The 
Independent.  The  considerations  which  led  to  the  founding  of 
this  journal  are  set  forth  by  them  in  an  address  to  the  public, 
the  like  of  which  wa>  never  penned  before,  and  certainly  has 
ii, .t  Keen  since.  The  Congregational  churches  were  on  the 
move  West.  Important  enterprises  were  in  progress  elsewhere. 
More  than  all,  there  were  certain  very  perturbative,  fecundating, 
organific,  and.  also,  as  the  event  proved,  revolutionary  thoughts 
in  the  minds  of  a  pretty  large  group  of  large  men,  which  had 
to  be  uttered.  The  three  responsible  editors  of  The  Inde- 
pendent undertook  to  utter  them.  "We  are  Congregational- 
ists,"  they  say,  in  their  address ;  "but  we  do  not  undertake  to 
be  the  representatives  of  Congregationalism.  We  have  our 
own  opinions  on  questions  in  theology,  hut  we  are  not  the 
champion-  of  any  man's  'scheme' or  metaphysical  system,  or 
of  the  view-  set  forth  from  any  chair  of  theology.  Th>  Imh- 
j„  ml'  nt,  then,  is  not  to  he  held  responsible  for  any  opinion  but 
its  own.  The  doctors  .  .  .  may  agree  or  disagree,  as  they 
please.  We  are  responsible  for  none  of  them,  nor  is  anyone 
of  them  responsible  for  us." 

So.  too,  politically  "we  take  our  stand  iovfree  soil"  but  will 
not  be  responsible  for  any  party  in  the  land.  We  have  our 
opinion-,  they  -aid.  and  we  mean  to  utter  them. 

Nowhere  in  all  the  wide  field  of  his  fruitful  influence  will  he 
be  more  missed  than  in  The  Independent.  A>  we  review  his 
crowded  life  and  think  of  hi-  eightj  years,  we  ask  ourselves 
what  manner  of  man  wa-  thi-  that  led  n-  -till  to  count  him 
among  the  active  soldiers  in  the  world's  great  warfare  and  to 
expect  -o  much  more  from  him  in  the  great  campaign. 


LEONARD    BACON.  209 

That  he  was  sometimes  bristling  and  pugnacious,  or  even 
wrong-headed,  that  ou  some  rare  occasions  he  lost  hi>  poise 
may  well  enough  be  true;  but  hie  la-art  was  gentle  and  his 
character  was  impersonal.  The  spirit  of  youth  and  the  love  of 
youth  were  in  him.  Ee  was  richer  in  humor  than  in  satin'. 
A  good  story  coming  announced  itself  with  a  characteristic 
chuckle,  and  was  told  with  inimitable  manner  and  action.  His 
mind  was  stored  with  anecdote,  and  it  is  doubtful  if  there  has 
been,  in  his  day  or  anywhere  in  the  wide  circle  he  lived  in. 
such  a  master  of  the  monologue  in  all  hues  and  of  every  variety. 
His  table-talk,  could  we  have  it.  would  live  Long. 

A-  a  Christian,  Dr.  Bacon  had  much  of  the  simplicity  of  the 
Puritan  type.  He  was  warm  and  spiritual,  withoul  being  de- 
monstrative; l>ut  he  had  qo  antagonisms  that  unfitted  him  to 

combine  with  any  worker  who  hail  g 1    power  of  any  kind  in 

him.  IIi>  gift  in  prayer  was  of  the  highest  order,  and  he  knew 
well  how  to  read  the  hymn.  At  funerals  and  on  all  public 
occasions  no  man  could  he  relied  on  a-  he  could.  In  the 
churches  he  was  the  bishop,  by  right  divine  the  IZOUftTfi  hw». 
while  among  men  his  personal  and  commanding  qualities 
marked    him  out  as    tit    to  wear  the  Homeric  title  r/w/c  av&po)V. 

We  know  that  Dr.  Storrs's  eloquent  and  nohle  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  Dr.  Bacou  in  these  column-  will  he  read  with  deep 
interest. 


FROM   I  111:  INDEPENDENT.} 


LEONARD    BACON. 


My    PEOFESSOB   GEORGE    P.    FlSHEB.   D.D. 


New  1 1  a  a  t*i  i  is  not  the  same  place  without  Dr.  Bacon.  lie 
has  been  the  Pastor  of  the  oldest  church  for  almost  threescore 
years.  To  all  who  in  this  period  have  lived  in  that  city,  to  all 
who  have  resorted  to  its  College  and  schools  his  person  and 
voice  are  familiar,  [n  every  public  movemenl  be  has  beep  a 
recognized  leader.  Whenever  a  good  cause  needed  the  advo- 
cacy of  a  powerful  pen  or  an  eloquent  voice,  all  eyes  turned  to 
him.  He  was  the  historiographer  of  the  town.  He  had 
explored  its  beginnings ;  be  knew  more  of  its  past  than  any 
other  living  man.  He  is  identified  with  New  Haven,  like  the 
permanent  features  of  the  landscape,  like  the  massive;  twin 
rocks  that  stand  on  its  border,  the  elms  that  shade  its  streets, 
and  the  water-  of  the  adjacent  Sound. 

Yet  Dr.  Bacon  did  not  seem  old.  His  intellectual  powers 
were  not  reduced.  His  vivacity  flamed  to  the  last  as  bril- 
liantly as  of  yore.  He  had  lost  none  of  his  interest  in  the 
important  questions  of  the  bour.  He  had  never  stopped  on 
bis  p'ath  to  turn  bis  face  backward,  and  to  turn  his  hack  on 
the  future.  To  all  who  approached  him  his  enthusiastic,  hope- 
ful, courageous  spirit  was  an  inspiration  to  the  end.  Months 
ago  he  read  Robertson  Smith's  lectures  on  the  Old  Tola 
ineiiT.  talked  of  them  with  animation,  evidently  feeling  that 
the  problems  which  they  presented   must  !»<■   freely   and   fairly 


LEONARD    BACON".  21  1 

discussed.  He  left  on  his  table  an  unfinished  Essay  on  Utah 
and  "the  Riormon  Question"  in  its  political  relations.  ELe 
was  emphatically  a  man  of  bis  time  and  for  his  time.  He 
would  have  found  it  impossible  to  seclude  himself  from  the  stir 
and  conflict  of  the  present  to  forget  the  struggles  in  which  the 
country  and  the  church  are  now  engaged,  or  to  stand  as  an  idle 
spectator,  musing  on  the  course  of  human  events.  He  felt  at 
home  <>n  the  public  arena,  where  matters  affecting  the  common 
weal  wen-  submitted  to  the  arbitrament  of  debate.  He  has 
made  innumerable  speeches  in  public  meetings.  He  has  been 
a  most  prolific  contributor  to  the  journals.  The  articles  which 
he  has  written  for  newspapers  and  reviews,  in  all  these  years, 
generally  with  reference  to  current  topics,  are  numberless. 

Vet.  it  need  not  he  >aid  that  Dr.  Bacon  was  a  man  of  the 
time  in  no  narrow  sense.  He  was  never  superficial.  lie  was 
not  of  those  who  are  incapable  of  being  interested  in  anything 
which  is  not  of  to-day.  His  horizon  was  not  so  limited.  He 
loved  t<>  trace  the  presenl   back  to  its  root-  in   the  past.     He 

had  not  only  the  tact  and  accuracy   of  a    historical  student;    he 

had,  also,  the  historical  imagination  which  could  reproduce  by- 
gone time-  in  a  glowing  picture.  1 1  iV  volumeof  Discourses  on 
the  History  of  \ew  Haven  is  a  contribution  to  knowledge 
which  has  stimulated  the  production  of  other  works  of  a  like 
character.  II  is  last  article  in  the  New  Ehglcmder  is  a  beautiful 
sketch  n\'  society  in  Connecticut  near  the  end  of  the  la.-t  cen- 
tury. There  was  in  him  such  a  never-failing  spring  of  mental 
vitality  that  whatever  he  read  inspired  him  with  thoughts  that 
carried  him  far  beyond  his  author.  His  understanding  was  so 
Btrong  and  so  keen  that  he  quickly  grasped  what  was  of  chief 
moment  in  a  hook  or  periodical.  His  intellect  was  not  at  all 
enfeebled  by  hi-  habil  of  discursive  reading,  a-  may  he  the  case 
with  inferior  men:  and,  with  all  his  sympathy  with  his  own 
generation,  he  was  not  in  the  leasl  a  radical  in  his  temperament. 
Hi- tone  of  feeling  was  conservative.     He  revered   the  virtues 

.,1'    men    ami    of   States   of   society     that    have    passed    away.       lie 

had  nothing  of  an  iconoclasi  iii  his  natural  temper.  A<  a 
reformer,  he  w a  -  quite  as  anxious  to  build  up  as  to  pull  down. 
Iii  the  slavery  controversy  he  was  long  the  all)  <>l  the*  greal 
body   who    hoped   that    African    colonization    would    prove  an 


•J  1  •_'  LEON  \KI>    BACON. 

ffective  means  of  emancipation.  He  cordially  detested  the 
disunion  principles  and  the  theological  and  "woman's  rights" 
tenets  of  the  Garrison  School ;  bn1  when  he  saw  that  the  Slave 
Power  was  advancing,  and  thai  slavery  was  defended  by  the 
Southern  church  as  a  Christian  institution,  he  threw  himself 
with  fearless  ardor  into  the  propagation  of  anti-slavery  doctrine 
and  was  influential  in  building  up  the  republican  party.  Mr. 
Lincoln  assured  him  (as  l>r.  Bacon  himself  informed  mo  that 
it  was  the  reading  of  his  hook  of  Essays  on  Slavery  that  made 
him  an  A.bolitionist. 

Dr.  Bacon's  rhetorical  talent-  were  of  a  very  high  order;  and 
vet  the  word  "  rhetorical "  in  this  connection  may  be  mislead 
ing.  It  was  nature,  more  than  art  that  gave  him  the  remarka- 
ble power  to  which  I  refer.  To  besure,  without  wide  reading 
and  familiarity  withgood  literature  he  could  not  have  become 
such  a  master  of  English  expression;  hut  with  him  language 
was  a  spontaneous  product  ;  it  was  vitalized  by  thought  and 
feeling.  He  had  no  need  to  go  in  quesl  of  apt  phrases.  The 
tire- that  were  burning  within  shot  forth  Light  and  heat  with 
out  any  artificial  blowing  of  the  bellows.  I  have  never  known 
his  superior  in  the  power  of  strictly  extemporaneous  thought. 
It  was  a  delight  to  him.  when  he  was  at  his  ease  with  friends 
whom  he  knew  well,  to  improvise^  if  I  may  use  the  word,  on 
the   suhjeds  that    happened    to   come  up.      In    an    ecclesiastical 

assembly,  when  roused  by  atopic  that  interested  him.  he  always 
manifested  this  extraordinary  power  of  "thinking  on  his  feet." 
Sometimes,  especially  in  conversation,  a  suggestion  from  an- 
other that  struck  his  mind  he  would  take  up  and  onf old  and 
illustrate  with  his  own  peculiar  felicity;  not.  perhaps  because 
it  embodied  hi-  own  matured  opinion,  hut  as  if  \)\  a  kind  ol 
rhetorical  instinct,  prompting  him  to  present  the  case  as  it  ought 
to  be  presented.     There  wen-  occasions  when   Dr.   Bacon   was 

vcrv  eloquent.  When  a  monument  was  placed  near  the  ('enter 
Church,  over  the  -rave  id'   Col.    Dixwell.one   of   the    judges  of 

King  Charles  [., he  delivered  a  discourse  on  "The  Opening  of 
an  Ancient  Grave";  and.  years  later,  from  a  platform  raised 
over  the  Bame  monument,  he  delivered  an  address  id'  welcome 
to  Governor  Robinson,  of  Kansas.  In  the  last  instance,  ootably, 
sympathy  with  the  historic  -lory  of  Puritanism,  suggested  \>\ 


LEONARD    BACON.  213 

the  ashes  of  the  exiled  judge  over  which  he  stood,  blended  with 
a  burning  indignation  at  the  iniquities  perpetrated   in    Kansas, 

and  caused  him  to  -peak  with  an  eloquence  which  I  have  never 
heard  surpassed.  These  are  only  two  instances  among  many 
which  those  who  have  long  known  Dr.  Bacon  will  easily  recall. 
In  his  own  pulpit  ir  is  hardly  requisite  To  observe  that  his  dis- 
courses were  uniformly  solid  and  instructive.  NTot  unfre- 
quently  they  were  spirited  as  well  ;  and  sometimes- — in  partic- 
ular, on  commemorative  occasioni — they  were  full  of  tire.  But 
he  told  me  once  that  it  was  harder  for  him  to  speak  without 
notes  in  his  own  pulpit  than  anywhere  else,  lie  lacked  there 
the  stimulus  of  opposition.  The  topics,  although  they  took  a 
deep  hold  of  his  convictions,  might  be  not  more  apposite 
for  one  time  than  for  another,  and  a  sense  of  the  propriety 
and  decorum  that  belong  to  the  bouse  of  worship,  mingled 
with  that  respect  for  his  congregation  which  grew  up  in  the 
early  years  of  his  niinisi  r\ .  when  he  stood  in  the  place  of  Stuart 
and  Taylor,  threw  over  him  in  some  degree  an  insensible  con- 
straint. In  truth,  there  were  various  characteristics  of  Dr. 
Bacon  which  it  is  probable  that  many  id'  his  parishioners  knew 
little  of  or.  at  any  rate,  never  adequately  appreciated.  I  refer 
to  the  many  who  >aw  little  of  him,  except  in  the  pulpit.  1 1  is 
attractiveness  as  a  speaker  in  places  where  lie  was  at  liberty  to 
pour  out  hi-  thoughts  at  will,  and  illuminate  them  with  Hashes 
of  wit.  they  might  not  fully  understand.  The  charm  of  hie 
conversation  when  he  was  with  congenial  minds,  the  stream 
of  wisdom  and  wit.  the  store.-,  of  apposite  anecdote  always  at 

his  command,  the  humorous  illustrations  from  favorite  authors. 
as  Scotl  or  Dickens,  which  came  up  unhidden,  as  the  talk  pur- 
sued  its  winding  way     to  all  this  many  wl nl\   knew   him  as 

a    preacher    wire    Btrangers.       Ne\  ert  heless    he    was    reinarkal  il  v 

open  and  frank,  lie  was  never  otherwise  than  serious  and 
earnest.  Had  any  one  who  knew  him  hut  imperfectly,  -ecu 
him  in  hi-  mosl  unguarded  hour-,  he  would  have  observed 
nothing  to  detrad  in  the  least  from  the  profound  respeel  for 
hi-  character  which  his  pulpit  addresses,  his  solemn  and  v^mt 
1'iit  prayers,  and  Hie  sympathetic  and  melodious  tones  in  which 
he  read  the  hymne  of  the  church  were  adapted  to  inspire. 
Dr.  Bacon  ie  distinguished  as  a  polemical  writer  and  speaker. 


■'II  LEON  \i:i»    BACON. 

Mr  inherited  in  a  large  measure  tlieold  Puritan  zeal  for  making 
things  straighl  in  this  crooked  world,  for  compelling  magis 
trates  to  rule  justly,  and  for  beating  down  the  upholders  of 
demoralizing  institutions  and  customs.  He  was  naturally  fond 
of  controversy  in  the  Bense  thai  hi>  mental  faculties  were 
quickened  by  debate,  and  be  experienced  all  the  delighl  the 
naudia  certaminis—  which  belongs  to  a  combatant  who  lias  no 
occasion  to  distrusl  liis  powers;  hut  Dr.  Bacon  embarked  in 
no  warfare  which  he  did  not  feel  to  be  just.  The  severity  of 
his  sarcasm  was  owing  to  the  keenness  of  his  perception.  The 
blade  which  nature  fashioned  for  him  had  a  sharp  edge.  But 
he  was  a  magnanimous  disputant.  He  was  above  petty  tricks. 
lie  disdained  sophistry.  He  brought  away  from  his  battles  no 
feeling  of  rancor  toward  his  adversaries,  lie  cherished  no 
grudges.  After  a  tilt  was  oxer,  it  was  no  fault  of  his  if  he  did 
not  shake  hands  with  his  opponent.  He  had  a  large-minded, 
catholic  spirit  toward  all  bodies  of  Christian  people.  While 
clinging  with  an  unfaltering  faith  to  the  essential  facts  and 
principle-  of  the  gospel,  he  believed  in  five  inquiry  and  dis- 
cussion,  despised  pettiness  and  narrowness  in  religon,  and  was 
able  to  recognize  the  same  essential  truth  under  diverse  forms 
«>f  statement.  One  who  saw  Dr.  Bacon  in  an  assembly  where 
an  excited  debate  was  in  progress,  wearing  the  stern  look  of  a 
warrior,  with  his  sword-arm  uplifted  and  launching  his  invec- 
tives against  an  obnoxious  measure,  might  imagine  that  austerity 
and  indignation  were  his  prevailing  traits.  In  reality,  he  was 
one  of  the  kindest  and  most  genial  of  men.  His  indignation 
was  fervid,  hut  there  was  a  deeper  well  of  generous  and  benev- 
olent feeling  beneath  it.  "How  Dr.  Bacon  has  mellowed  in 
the  last  twenty  year-!""  i-  a  remark  occasionally  heard.  It 
would    certainly  lie    a    reproach    to   a    good    man    if  the   change 

denoted  by  this  phraseology  did  not  occur  with  the  advance  of 
N'..  doubt  there  was  an  increasing  carefulness  to  avoid 
expressions  that  might  wound  sensitive  minds.  A.fter  all,  how- 
ever, this  apparent  growth  of  tenderness  and  forbearance  was. 
in  the  main,  a  manifestation  of  qualities  of  heart  which  had 
ever  belonged  to  him.  Old  age  does  noi  soften  the  naturally 
unfeeling.  Ripeand  mellowfruit  springsonly  from  good  seed. 
The  most  conspicuous  moral   trait  of  Dr.  Bacon  was  manli- 


LEONARD    BACON.  215 

ness.  Manliness  constituted  his  ideal  of  character.  It  was 
Christian  manliness,  because  Christianity  in  his  view  was  essen- 
tial to  the  perfection  of  manhood.  A  devout  man.  he  was 
utterly  free  from  all  the  sentimentalities  of  piety.  To  enthu- 
siasts he  might  seem  too  reserved,  perhaps  frigid,  in  his 
religious  manifestations.  Not  so  did  he  seem  to  the  thousands 
of  invalids  at  whose  bedside  be  had  offered  up  prayer  to  Grod, 
or  to  the  multitude  of  households  which  he  entered  to  bury 
their  dead.  Bui  he  believed  that  Christianity  is  for  daily  use. 
Ir  is  to  make  men  upright,  faithful,  fearless  in  the  performance 
of  duty.  It  is  not  only  for  the  spiritual  health  and  peace  of 
the  individual  :  it  is  for  the  remolding  of  Bociety.  It  i>  the 
part  of  a  Christian  to  take  the  aggressive  and  carry  the  Gospel 
over  the  earth.  In  the  distant  continents  of  Asia,  in  far-off 
islands  of  the  sea,  wherever  an  American  missionary  is  at  work 
in  planting  Christianity,  the  name  of  Dr.  Bacon  is  familiar. 
In  the  only  extended  journey  which  he  ever  toot  he  visited 
our  missions  in  the  East.  II<-  had  the  New  England  feeling 
that  religion  and  education  arc  inseparable.  Whatever  tend- 
to  advance  the  intelligence  of  the  community  had  his  energetic 
support. 

lie  was  never  idle.  Work  always  seemed  a  pa-time  for  him. 
Some  years  ago  I  heard  him  say  that  the  weeks  of  his  summer 
vacation  were  harder  for  him  to  dispose  of  than  any  other  pari 
of  the  year.  He  went  on  with  his  labors  to  the  end.  The 
expectation  that  his  remaining  time  was  short,  and  that  death 
might    OCCUr   at    any  moment,  did  not   lead  him  to  lay  down  his 

wonted  employments.  He  wrote  and  preached  ami  lectured  as 
usual,  doing  everytliing  cheerfully,  making  no  complaint  of 
physical  weakness.  He  quietly  gave  up  meetings  which  he 
was  not  able  to  attend,  was  taken  in  a  carriage  to  the  Divinity 
School  when  he  could  not  walk,  luit  evinced  in  conference 
with  bis  colleagues  and  in  hi-  instructions  in  the  class-room 
jn-t  the  same  vigor  of  mind  and  the  same  liveliness  of  feeling 
:i~  of  old.     He  communicated  to  us,  Ias1  spring,  in  a  ?en  -im 

pie  way  the  nature  of  hi-  malad\  and  the  iincrrtaint  \  of  the 
Continuance  of  hi-  life.  Then  hi-  work  with  n-  went  on  with 
no  perceptible  change  in  him.  except  a  tinge,  pathetic,  though 
alight,  of  added  tenderness  in  hi-  manner. 


2  I  fi  LEON  \  HP    BACON. 

When    Dr.    Bacon   became  one  of  the  corps  of  theological 

teachers  in  Vale  Divinity  Scl I,  bis  younger  associates,  much 

as  they  honored  him  and  desired  \\\>  appointment,  were  nol 
without  a  degree  of  apprehension  that  there  tnighl  be  some 
want  of  freedom  in  the  presence  of  his  positive  character  and 
emphatically  outspoken  opinions  on  all  questions  which  he  was 
called  t<»  consider.  All  apprehensions  of  this  sort  were  soon 
dissipated.  We  found  him  uniformly  gentle  arid  considerate, 
not  in  llic  leasl  disposed  to  press  unduly  his  own  ideas  upon 
our  acceptance,  and  helpful  and  obliging  in  the  highest  degree. 
Fertile  in  new  plans,  he  was,  fortunately,  at  the  furthest  re- 
move from  obstinacy  in  insisting  on  measures  which  were  not 
acceptable  to  Ins  colleagues.  No  instructor  could  exhibit 
toward  his  fellow-  a  more  unselfish  spirit.  At  the  same  time 
he  equaled,  if  he  did  not  outstrip  us  all  in  enthusiasm  with 
regard  to  our  common  work.  In  our  conferences,  he  brought 
out  of  his  full  mind  treasures  new  and  old  ;  treasures  both  of 
tad  and  of  suggestion.  A>  to  the  students,  he  was  lenient  in 
his  judgments,  kindly  and  yet  searching,  and  eminently  wise 
and  stimulating,  in  his  criticisms.  He  never  manifested  to 
cither  professors  or  pupils  any  of  the  faults  which  have  com- 
monly been  thought  to  he  characteristic  of  old  men.  At  the 
beginning  we  felt  toward  him  a  high  respect  and  esteem. 
More  and  more,  without  any  effort  on  his  part,  merely  by 
showing  himself  as  he  was,  he  won  our  cordial  Love. 

The  observation  has  often  been  made  that  Dr.  Bacon  might 
have  been  and.  perhaps,  ought  to  have  been,  a  senator  in  Con- 
gress, or  a  great  advocate  at  the  har.  It  is  true  that  his  for- 
ensic talents  were  of  a  high  order.  It  is  true  that  he  had  a 
statesmanlike  hain't  of  thought.  Had  he  entered  on  the  career 
of  a  lawyer  or  of  a  politician,  he  would  have  achieved  eminent 
distinction.  But  I  do  not  concur  in  the  opinion  that  the  path 
which  he  chose  was  the  less  desirable  one.  The  moral  element 
was  supreme  in  his  mental  constitution.  He  has  discussed  the 
gravest  public  questions  in  a  way  to  instruct  and  impress  a 
vast  aumber  of  educated  minds,  and  he  has  done  this  <piite  an 
effectively  in    his  character  as  a  citizen,  holding  no  office  and 

aspiring  to  none,  as  if  he  had  been  clad  in  the  robes  of  office, 
lie  has  been,  at  the  -ami'  time,  a  heroic,  untiring  servant  of  the 


LEONAKD    baton.  -217 

church.  He  has  represented  the  interests  of  religion  and  mo- 
rality before  the  American  community  with  an  ability  which 
baa  commanded  the  respect  of  the  ablest  men  in  every  walk  of 
life.  Official  station  might  not  have  increased  his  influence. 
It  might  have  furnished  occasion  for  attack-  on  the  purity  of 
his  motives  and  the  independence  of  his  judgment,  which  he 
escaped. 

The  place  tilled  by  Dr.  Bacon  was  in  some  respects  unique. 
In  his  own  province  he  had  no  superior.  None  are  Left  to 
bend 

"The  mighty  bow  that  once  Dlysses  bore." 

The  great  effect  of  his   life  remains.     Those  who  knew  him 
best  will  never  cease  to  cherish  toward  him  the  deepest  honor 
and  affection. 
New  Eaven,  Conn. 


FROM    THE  INDEPENDENT. 


THE    LATE    DR.    BACON. 


By  President  Noah   Porter.   D.D..   LL.D. 


I  am  asked  to  give  a  lew  of  my  recollections  of  the  late  Dr. 
Bacon.  It  is  not  easy  to  select  a  few  out  of  the  throng  which 
I  cannot  hut  recall.     Nevertheless,  I  will  make  the  attempt. 

The  first  was  in  my  childhood,  when  I  heard  of  a  student  of 
divinity  at  Andover  of  remarkable  gifts,  especially  in  litera- 
ture, whose  torn  window-curtain  had  occasioned  some  sharp 
remarks  from  a  pert  young  miss,  winch,  when  reported  to  him, 
had  called  forth  a  lively  poetic  response,  which  was  published 
in  11k  Boston  Recorder,  Tin  Boston  tt<<-<>r<hr  then  was 
almost  the  onl\  religious  newspaper  in  New  England  and  the 
CTnited  State-.  -Xn  Fiction"  was  almost  the  only  religious 
novel,  and  this  was  not  approved  in  all  religious  circles. 
Scott's  novels  and  Lord  Byron's  poems  were  the  chief  attrac- 
tion- of  cm-rent  literature,  and  bow  far  either  were  either  edi- 
fying or  even  worthy  of  toleration  in  Christian  families  was  a 
matter  of  grave  discussion.  Bui  the  rising  wave  of  missionary 
enterprise,  which  had  appeared  a  few  year.-  before,  had  now 
gathered  force  and  was  moving  powerfully  through  New  Eng- 
land.    The  recent  revivals  of  religion,  in  which   Drs.  Beecher 

and  Taylor  and   Nettleton  were  so  pi inent,  had   led  many  to 

raise  their  hope-  of  the  speedy  coming  of  the  Millennium;  the 
newly-inspired  spirit  of  benevolence  was  prompting  to  what  at 
rhat    time    seemed   wonders    of    self-sacrifice   and     liberality; 


LEONARD    BACON.  219 

Sunday-schools  were  almost  in  their  infancy;  the  modern 
movements  for  moral  and  social  reform  were  hardly  in  their 
bud  when  Leonard  Bacon  began  his  public  life,  a  stripling  of 
twenty-three,  a  wide-minded  and  self-reliant  student,  who  had 
found  stuff  to  kindle  hi>  romantic  fancy  in  the  missionary  cov- 
ings of  his  fervid  father  among  the  western  frontiers  and 
along  the  western  lake-,  and  had  \\'<\  his  intellect  by  the'  enthu- 
siastic study  of  the  masters  of  English  literature.  His  early 
writings  exhibited  more  than  usual  power  of  debate,  marked 
self-reliance  in  uttering  his  opinions,  keen  wit,  daring  invec- 
tive, and  soaring  eloquence,  all  of  which  he  could  not  hut 
express  in  clear,  strong,  and  felicitous  language. 

When  I  entered  college,  lie  had  heen  two  years  Pastor  of  the 
Center  Church.  A-  he  preached  now  and  then  from  the  tall 
pulpit  of  the  old  chapel,  and  the  still  taller  pulpit  in  his  own 
church,  he  was  chiefly  distinguished  for  the  positiveness  and 
self-reliance  with  which  he  spoke  and  the  freedom  from  a  pul- 
pit dialect  ;  hut.  a>  n<>w  and  then  some  occasional  discourse 
was  called  for  on  some  missionary  <>r  benevolent  theme,  or 
some  demand  of  public  morals,  or  when  excited  by  some  polit- 
ical or  commercial  crisis,  he  was  inspired  with  special  energy 
and  seemed  quite  another  man  than  in  his  ordinary  ministra- 
tions. New  Haven  was  then  a  city  of  some  eight  or  nine 
thousand  inhabitants.  Two  Congregational  churches,  one 
Episcopal,  one  Baptist,  and  one  Methodist,  and  the  College 
(diapel  were  all.     One  Roman  Catholic  family  only  was  known 

in    the    town.      (  )n    a    great     religious    occasion     at    the    ('enter 

Church  the  city  was  moved  by  a  common  sympathy.  During 
the  great    revival   of   ]s:;i    the  whole  city  kepi  a  Sabbath  "I' 

four  days  of  -oleum  and    excited    -tilhie>.-.  in  which  the   pastor, 

then  of  five  year-"  standing  was  prominent.  Before  this  event, 
however,  he  had  passed  a  serious  crisis  in  hi-  mini-try  and  his 
life,  which  he  ha-  appropriately  commemorated. 

Before  thi-    time  the   so-called    New     Haven   tl log}    had 

attracted  public  attention,  and  had  begun  to  agitate  the 
churches  in  ami  out  of  N"\\  England.  TIu  Quarterly  Chris- 
f  1,1 1,  Spectator  in    ls-J'.'    was  established   as  the  organ  of    the 

New   Haven  School.     I>r.  Bacon  wan   l< •« I  -t    naturally,  from 

his  earh  associations  and  the  practical  and  progressive  character 


•_'•_'<>  LEON  \ltl>    H  in  »\. 

of  bis  mind,  to  sympathize  with  many,  if  not  all  of  its  posi- 
tions and  became  a  frequenl  contributor  to  the  pages  of  the 
new  review.  His  contributions  were  chieity  literary  and  ethi- 
cal and  reformatory,  rather  than  theological.  Mis  sympathy 
with  the  new  theological  direction  was  most   significantly  and 

characteristically    shown    in    the   edition    of    the   select   works  of 

Richard  Baxter,  which  he  published  in  L831.  With  his  studies 
for  this  labor  of  love  began  those  researches  which  were  the 
joy  of  his  lite,  which  brought  him  into  close  communion  with 

the    heroes    of    freedom,    of    civil,    religious,    and    ecclesiastical 

reform,  and  the  champions  of  a  national  Christian  theology. 
From  this  time  Dr.  Bacon's  life-long  mission  began  to  be  dis- 
tinctively defined  to  himself  and  to  others.  The  cause  of 
public  morals  in  his  own  city  was  espoused  with  characteristic 
boldness  and  enforced  by  Ins  lively  wit  and  hold  invective. 
The  great  benevolent  enterprises  were  all  eloquently  cham- 
pioned and  liberally  responded  to  by  his  people.  It  was  not 
long  before  his  latent  individuality  asserted  itself  most  posi- 
tively in  certain  lines  of  ecclesiastical  leadership.  In  L835  he 
led  tlie  General  Association  of  Connecticut  to  pass  a  set  of  crit- 
ical resolutions  against  the  inroads  and  pretensions  of  itinerant 
evangelists,  the  aim  of  which  was  well  enough  understood.  In 
L836  the  Presbyterian  church  was  violently  disrupted,  chiefly 
on  theological  grounds.  This  event  was  attended  and  followed 
by  a  series  of  agitations  in  Connecticut  which,  in  the  view  ot 
many,  threatened  a  division  of  the  Congregational  ministers 
and  churches.  In  these  discussions  \)v.  Bacon  was  conspicuous. 
A  aewspaper  was  established  in  New  Haven  in  which  lie  was 
greatly  interested,  and  in  an  occasional  periodical,  called 
Views  and  Reviews,  he  published  two  or  three  series  of  vigor- 
ous letter-,  protesting  with  all  the  energy  at  his  command 
against  the  necessity  and  the  Christianity  of  any  movement 
toward  a  division. 

The  meetings  of  the  General  Association  of  the  State  were 
for  several  years  the  arena  on  which  bis  varied  resources  were 
brilliantly  and  efficiently  displayed.  This  controversy  had 
scarcely  begun  to  abate  when  hi-  energies  were  aroused  in  a 
new  direction.  The  year  L838  was  observed  in  commemora- 
tion of    the  end    of    the  second    Century  since  the  settlement    ot 


LEONARD    BACON.  221 

New  Haven.  Into  the  arrangement  f< >r  the  suitable  observ- 
ance of  this  event  Dr.  Baeon  threw  all  the  ardor  and  energy  of 
his  nature.  The  first  result  was  the  preparation  of  his  histor- 
ical discourses  of  the  First  Church  in  New  Haven,  a  work 
which  was  not  only  a  model  of  its  kind,  but  has  a  still  greater 
interest  from  its  relation  to  the  subsequent  history  of  Dr. 
Bacon's  own  studies.  It  confirmed  and  steadied  the  ardent 
enthusiasm  which  he  inherited  from  his  father  for  the  heroes 
who  settled  New  England.  It  determined  his  favorite  re- 
searches in  the  direction  of  the  history  and  polity  of  the  New 
England  churches.  His  subsequent  elaborate  tracing  of  the 
origination  and  operation  of  the  Saybrook  Platform  ;  the  quainl 
and  archaic  codification  of  the  usages  of  the  New  England 
churches,  which  he  prepared  for  the  Boston  Council;  his 
learned  work  on  the  '" Genesis  of  the  New  England  Churches;" 
his  growing  tenacity  of  the  old  usages;  his  continued  protests 
for  the  freedom  and  independence  of  the  local  church:  his 
tenacious  and  what  seemed  to  some  his  needless  protests  againsl 
Congregationalism  as  a  sect  will  be  readily  recognized  as  the 
legitimate  fruits  of  hi>  memorable  work  in  L838.  This  work 
had  another  good  effect.  It  brought  him  nearer  to  the  hearts 
of  hi>  fellow-citizens  of  all  classes.  In  teaching  them  to  be 
proud  of  their  own  history,  he  taught  them  to  be  proud  of  the 
man  who  had  shown  that  their  city  had  a  history.  The  medal 
which  commemorated  this  celebration  in  L838  and  the  marble 
tablets  over  the  entrance  of  the  church  with  the  construction 
of  the  crypt  beneath  its  floor  the  last  two  the  loving  work  of 
his  old  age  are  fruits  and  evidences  of  this  historic  enthn 
siasm.  This  historical  work  was  scarcely  finished  when  a  new 
labor  was  prepared  for  his  hands.  He  had  I. ecu  originally, 
with  very  many,  not  to  saj  most  philanthropists,  an  advocate  of 
African  colonization,  as  the  onlj  practical  remedy  For  slavery. 
His  antagonism  to  alaver)  itself  was  greatly  intensified  l>\  a 
snbsequenl  personal  knowledge  of  plantation  life.  The  radical 
and  anti-Christian  abolitionism  of  man}  of  the  immediate 
emancipationists  aroused  an  equally  positive  opposition,  in 
which  satire  ami  invective  had  free  play.  For  several  Near- 
he  protested  against  both  parties  with  a  nearh  equal  hostility, 
which    he    found   abundant    occasion    to  expresn.     Hut    events 


2*2*2  Leonard  bacon. 

moved  rapidh  toward  ;i  crisis.  In  the  meantime  the  Wey) 
Engl-ander  was  started,  in  L843,  chiefly  under  Dr.  Bacon's 
inspiration,  with  the  avowed  design  of  discussing  political, 
social,  religious,  and  literary  topics  of  present  interest  in  a 
popular  style.  This  periodical  engrossed  l>r.  Bacon's  atten- 
tion for  several  years  and  was  for  a  season  after  the  death  of 
the  first  editor  under  his  immediate  control.  In  L848  Tin 
Independent  was  started,  and  in  its  weekly  demands  upon  his 
pen  and  his  counsels  it  furnished  him  with  full  occupation, 
while  the  clouds  were  gathering  for  the  impending  storm. 
Meanwhile,  the  controversy  over  the  various  phases  of  I  >r. 
Bushnell's  theology  interested  him  intensely.  The  General 
Association  of  Connecticut  became  again  the  scene  of  earnest 
discussion,  and  ominous  preparation  for  a  division  of  ecclesias- 
tical fellowship  were  again  threatening;  and  Dr.  Bacon  was 
again  at  his  post,  using  all  his  powers  of  pen  and  speech  to 
avert  so  serioii-  a  calamity.  As  a  consequence,  he  became 
more  and  more  distinctly  catholic  in  his  own  views  of  theology 
and  more  and  more  comprehensive  in  his  Christian  sympathies. 
In  L866  lie  withdrew  from  the  active  duties  and  responsibilities 
of  his  pastorate,  and  for  five  years  taught  revealed  or  biblical 
theology  in  the  Theological  Department  of  Yale  College,  and 
from  l's~l  till  his  death  he  gave  instruction  in  church  polity 
and  the  ecclesiastical  history  of  New  England. 

In  every  one  of  these  manifold  spheres  of  activity  there  was 
special  discipline  for  his  quick  and  vigorous  mind.  To  each 
he  brought  keen  discernment,  comprehensive  judgment,  a  tena- 
cious memory,  and  a  warm  and  even  ardent  personal  sympathy. 
From  each  he  emerged  a  stronger  and  a  riper  man,  till  in  the 
lasl  ten  pears  of  useful  and  happy  life,  he  seemed  to  have 
attained  the  ideal  consummation  of  experiences  so  varied  by 
toil  and  bo  Btirring  in  combat,  lie  had  not  lost  a  Whit  of  his 
idiosyncrasy.  He  was  as  headlong  in  assertion  and  as  acquies- 
cent under  reply  or  explanation,  as  violent  in  invective,  and  as 
generous  in  personal  feeling;  but  there  gathered  around  him 
insensibly  a  pervading  serenity  of  spirit,  which  made  him  seem 
rli,.  more  human  in  proportion  as  he  became  more  heavenly. 
His  prayers  had  always  been  remarkable  for  touching  pathos 
and  seraphic  elevation.     At  the  bedside  of  the  sick  and  dying, 


LEONARD    BACON.  VZd 

in  the  hushed  circle  of  the  bereaved,  in  the  worship  of  the 
great  congregation,  and  before  the  family  altar  his  devotional 

utterances  had  been  models  of  their  kind  ;  hut  as  he  prayed  in 
his  old  age  his  lips  seemed  to  have  been  touched  with  a  coal 
from  the  altar  of  God.  In  "the  Club,"  of  which  he  had  been 
the  charm  and  the  pride  for  forty  years  or  more,  he  was  the 
same  in  defects  and  merits,  but  always  jubilant  with  humor 
and  intense  with  life:  just  as  positive  in  assertion  and  equally 
patient  of  criticism;  and  more  Baconian  than  ever,  and  yet 
more  catholic,  patient,  and  noble. 

The  article  in  the  New  Englander  of  duly,  L881,  on  the 
corporation  of  Y^ale  College,  seems  tome  perfect  in  its  kind, 
brilliant  with  wit,  cogent  in  argument,  masterly  in  style,  and, 
above  all,  as  sweet  and  winning  as  though  it  were  the  first  essaj 
•  if  a  carpet-knight,  and  not  the  last  charge  of  a  hundred  onset-. 

The  catholicity  of  his  theological  and  Christian  sympathies 
had  always  been  conspicuous  in  his  character.  His  conceptions 
of  the  Kingdom  of  God  were  always  enlarged  to  include  ever) 
form  of  human  welfare  and  progress..  His  youthful  fervor  in 
both  directions  had  become  confirmed  into  quiet  and  immov- 
able convictions.  His  old  experience  had  attained  to  more 
than  one  prophetic  strain.  It  so  happened  that  he  and  myself 
were  at  the  last   meeting  of  the  General  Association  of  ('mi 

necticut,  at  which  I  was  somewhat  reluctantly  required  to 
speak  of  the  history  of  theological  parties  in  ( 'oiniect  icnt  since 
L837,  the  year  when  the  same  church  edifice  was  almost   rocked 

to  and  fro  by  the  waves  of  theological  strife. 

lie     followed     with    greater    liberty  of   speech,  as  he  referred 

to  the  tierce  conflicts  iii  that  house  of  some  forty  four  years 
before,  when  he  had  been  twelve  years  and  I  had  been  one  in 
the  ministry.  In  referring  afterward  to  this  freedom  which  he 
had  used,  he  said,  with  greal  fervor  and  feeling,  thai  he  found 
it  dillicnlt  to  restrain  hi-  feelings  when  he  went  hack  to  those 
time-  of  peril   to  the  churches  of  the   State  from  the  forces 

which  were  then  massed  to  divide  them.  Little  did  man\  who 
heard    of   him    by  report    or    who    read    his  hrilliant  satire  know 

how  deeph  were  imbedded  in  hi-  heart  an  heroic  consecration 
to  the  Kingdom  of  God  and  a  fervenl  faith  in  it-  certain  tri 
iimph  and  n  knightly  lo\alt\  to  hi-  Master  and  Redeemer. 


•_'•_'  I  LEON  \  l;i»    BACON. 

In  his  own  household  lie  was  a  model  o1  sweetness  and 
patience  and  good  humor.  His  children  and  his  children's 
children  were  his  joy  and  pride.  Some  of  his  mos1  effective 
articles  for  the  press  are  known  to  have  been  written  with  one 
child  in  his  lap  and  another  at  his  feet,  amid  manifold  inter- 
ruptions and  more  numerous  cares  and  anxieties.     A.s  one  and 

another   of    the    de;ire>t   and  -v\eete-t    were  taken  ullt   of    Ill's  life, 

he  suffered  none   the   less  that  he  retained  his  composure  and 
calmh  prosecuted  his  work. 

I  may  speak  of  his  relations  to  inyself  in  the  office  which  I 
have  held  during  the  last  ten  years ;  of  his  uniform  personal 
courtesy  and  delicate  attentions,  thai  were  very  significant  from 
ii  man  of  Ids  mold  and  tendencies;  hut  all  of  which  were  not 
unnoticed  and  can  never  be  forgotten.  It  has  often  happened, 
during  this  period,  that  I  have  overtaken  him  in  his  walks,  ol 
late  somewhat  slower  than  formerly,  and  I  have  never  failed  to 
elicit  some  sparkle  of  wit  or  wisdom  from  the  three  minutes 
of  com  ersation  that  followed. 

The  Thursday  afternoon  before  his  death  I  met  him  for  a 
moment  near  the  door  of  my  office.  We  had  a  brief  conversa- 
tion about  the  provision  for  the  wants  of  a  Chinese  student 
whom  lie  had  given  a  home  in  his  own  house,  when  cast  ofl 
from  home  and  friends  by  the  profession  of  his  Christian  faith. 
A-  we  parted,  lie  commended  him  to  my  cure,  as  his  last  word 
in  this  life. 

At  his  burial,  on  Tuesday,  I  observed  this  youth  from  China 
in  the  family  group,  together  with  a  young  lady  from  .Japan, 
wdio  had  for  many  year-  been  an  inmate  of  thai  household  and 
who  a  few  month-  before  had  received  Christian  baptism  from 
her  honored  and  beloved  friend.  This  scene  suggested  mani- 
fold thoughts  concerning  the  progress  of  the  Kingdom  of  Cod 
during  the  years  that  have  marked  the  life  of  this  uoble  cham- 
pion for  its  principles  and  this  fervent  believer  in  its  final 
triumph.  <  owld  he  have  foreseen  that  among  the  multitude  of 
devout  men  who  followed  1dm  to  his  burial  these  representa- 
tives would  l>e  presenl  from  China  and  Japan,  as  members  of 
hi-  own  household  and  of  the  household  of  faith,  he  would 
have  -aid.  in  anticipation:   "]  shall  not  have  lived  in  vain.1' 

Vale  College  New  Haven,  Conn. 


[FROM    Till:    INDEPENDENT.'] 


REMINISCENCES  OF  LEONARD  BACON. 


By  Theodore  D.  Woolsey,  D.D.,  LL.D. 


It  seems  to  me  that  I  can  best  serve  the  memory  of  my  old 
friend  and  classmate,  Dr.  Bacon,  by  putting  what  I  have  to  say 
in  the  form  of  reminiscences  of  bis  early  years  and  of  estimates 
of  his  character  and  opinions.  Biore  ought  to  be  said,  and  in 
a  different  strain,  of  a  man  who  has  served  not  his  generation 
only,  but  nearly  two  generations,  by  constant  activity  in  >ii]>- 
porting  thai  which,  in  his  inmosl  conviction,  was  good  in  the 
great  practical  movements  of  the  age,  relating  to  religion,  to 
the  reform  of  society  in  various  respects,  to  politics,  and  to 
ecclesiastical  polity.  Some  one  musl  undertake  a  more  exten- 
sive review  of  his  life;  bu1  perhaps  I  may  say  several  things 
which  may  not  suggesl  themselves  to  others. 

The  first  knowledge  I  had  of  Leonard  Bacon  was  at  the 
beginning  of  our  sophomore  year,  in  1M7.  when  he  entered 
the  class  of  which  I  was  a  member  and  was  assigned  to  the 
division  to  which  I  belonged.  It  was  the  usage  then  in  Yale 
College  for  a  tutor  t(,  instrucl  his  division  in  all  branches  of 
study  a  usage  undesirable  for  more  reasons  than  one.  bul 
good,  as  uniting  the  scholars  to  an  able  and  winning  tutor. 
Prof.  Alexander  M.  Kisher,  a  man  of  incomparable  ability  and 
genius  in  mathematics  and  natural  philosophy,  chosen  into  his 
office  in  1 81 7,  was  our  division  officer  in  1818  19,  withoul  talc 
ing  all   the  studies  under  hi-  supervision,     We  were  proud  of 


•_'•_'•  i  I  l  1 1\  \  i;i>    BACON. 

hiii]  and  honored  him.  Of  the  class  I  knew  I>u1  little,  as  I 
lived  away  from  commons  and  the  college  buildings,  in  the 
house  of  a  near  relative.  Bacon  was  a  stranger  to  me  ver> 
much  until  late  in  our  junior  year.  He  had  a  good  standing, 
Inn  nol  among  tin-  tirst  scholars,  being  engrossed  with  reading 
tn  a  considerable  extent  < >u t ^i«  1* •  of  the  college  studies. 

It  was,  if  I  remember  aright,  in  the  junior  year  that  common 
interests  in  the  affairs  of  the  ''Brothers'  Society,"  one  of  the 
two  societies  which  divided  college  between  them,  broughl 
together  three  of  us  (Bacon,  Twining,  and  myself),  to  write  a 
series  of  papers,  which  were  called  the  Talebearer^  and  were 
read  by  an  officer  of  the  society  called  the  reader.  They  were, 
of  course,  anonymous,  but  it  was  well  understood  who  were 
the  "editors."  The  papers  were  juvenile  and  hastily  written, 
but  lively  and  sometimes  (as  the  society  was  split  into  parties) 
more  or  less  polemical;  but  they  did  good,  at  least,  to  their 
authors,  by  a  discipline  in  writing  which  was  not  without  its 
use  iii  supplementing  the  rhetorical  exercises  in  college.  Quite 
a  uumber  of  them  were  in  verse,  among  which  one  of  Bacon's 
for  sparkling  wit  was  quite  beyond  the  average  of  similar  col- 
lege performances. 

In  our  senior  year,  as  things  then  were,  we  had  ample  leisure 
to  read  and  study  for  ourselves.  Bacon  and  his  room-mate. 
('he>ter  [sham,  Stoddard  and  Brockway,  Twining  and  myself 
formed  a  club  called  the  Hexahedron,  which  met  once  a  week 
in  turn  at  one  of  our  three  rooms  and  devoted  an  evening 
chiefly  to  the  reading  <>f  English  poetry  and  especially,  if  I 
remember  aright,  to  the  older  poetry  of  our  language.  Bacon 
was  fond  of  reading  poetry  and  in  a  few  instances  attempted  it. 
But,  when  Word-worth  came  to  be  read  and  valued  in  this 
country,  he  was  not  one  of  those  who  listened  with  much  pleas- 
ure to  the  new  minstrel,  at  least  in  the  earlier  part  of  his  life. 
A  few  year-  after  this  he  contributed  to  a  short  collection  of 
hymns  which  he  prepared  some  of  his  own,  which  have  since 
appeared    in  other   hymn    books.      Such  are   "Though    now   the 

nation.-  -it  beneath,"  a  missionary  hymn,  and  the  excellent  one 

OH  a  missionary's  death.  -  Weep  not   lor  the  -aim   that  ascends  ;" 

the  hymn  on  Forefather's  Day,  "O  God,  beneath  thy  guiding 
hand,"  which  is  -till  naturally  chosen  lor  that  occasion  before 


LEONARD    BACON.  "-'- ■ 

most  others;  and  the  patriotic  hymn,  k'Godof  our  fathers  to 
rliv  throne,"  the  communion  hymn,  "Othou  who  hast  died  to 
redeem  u>  from  bell,"  and  the  sweet  evening  hymn,  "Hail, 
tranquil  hour  of  closing  day,"  which  was  evidently  suggested 
by  the  well-known  hymn,  "I  love  to  steal  awhile  away,"  and 
may  well  contend  with  that  favorite  in  sentiment  and  expres- 
sion. 

But  1  must  return  from  this  digression  to  the  club,  from 
which  I  digressed,  and  ask  to  be  allowed  to  refer  r<>  its  individ- 
nal  members.     Stoddard  was  the  author,  together  with  Prof. 

Andrew-,  of  the  well-known   Latin  grammar  which  Long  st 1 

at  the  head  of  its  rivals  in  that  branch  of  instruction  in  this 
country.  He  was  professor  at  Middlebury,  Vermont,  and  a 
man  of  fervent  piety.  He  died  in  L847.  His  room-mate, 
Brockway,  became  a  country  lawyer  in  Connecticut  and  served 
one  term  in  Congress.  He  was  the  most  frolicksome  and 
joyous  of  us  all.  tie  died  in  L870.  Chester  Isham,  one  of  our 
very  best  scholar-,  was  held  to  be  somewhat  plodding  in  col- 
lege; but  a  noticeable  change  took  place  in  him  when  he  gave 
himself  to  the  study  of  theology.  Apparently,  it  was  the 
result  of  quickened  religious  feelings.  He  preached  with  such 
energy  and  power  that  he  was  invited,  very  early  after  leaving 
Andover,  to  till  an  important  pulpit  in  Eastern  Massachusetts. 
He  married,  and  in  less  than  two  years  after  hi-  settlemenl 
died,  in  1825.  He  was  Bacon's  nearest  friend,  from  the  begin- 
ning of  their  college  lite  until  his  death.  These  are  all  --one. 
and  «d'  the  living,  besides  myself,  there  i-  hut  one  <>f  the  -i\ 
remaining,  my  dear  friend,  Prof.  Twining. 

The  senior  vear  passed   liappily  away,  and  we  were  soon  dis 

persed,  nol    i sel  again  except  a-  individual    friend-.     The 

day  after  our  graduation,  two  of  those  who  had  been  among  his 
besl  friend-  walked  with  Bacon  a-  far  a-  \V  hit  uev  \  il  le.  on  tin- 
road  he  was  intending  to  take  to  Hartford,  on  foot.     Tlu\  told 

him  plainly  thai    he   had  not- made  the  si  o1    himseli    in  col 

lege;  thai  he  had  nol  studied  enough  and  was  in  danger  of 
hurting  himself  b\  superficial  halm-  of  reading.  The  friends 
bade  farewell,  and  ere  long  he  was  established  at  A.ndover, 
with  l-hain  for  hi-  room-mate.  Now.  a-  it  afterward 
appeared,  the  responsibilities  of  life  pressed  upon   him.  and   he 


228  l  EON  V.RD    BACON. 

did  faithful  work  in  his  theological  education.  At  the  end  of 
the  course  Bacon  was  chosen  to  make  the  principal  address  on 
the  da^  when  the  class  lefl  the  Seminary.  I  wenl  to  Andover 
to  hear  my  friend's  address,  and  rejoiced  in  the  proofs  thai  he 
gave  of  his  progress.  During  the  next  year  and  the  first  pari 
of  L825  lie  preached  in  several  places,  and,  al  length,  received 
a  call  to  the  Firsl  Church  in  New  Haven,  which  Dr.  Taylor 
had  left,  al  the  close  of  1822,  in  order  to  assume  the  professor- 
ship of  theology  in   the  new   theological   department   of  Yale 

College.  He  was  ordained  a  year  and  a  half  after  lie  left 
Andover,  in  March.  L825,  just  after  completing  liis  twenty- 
third  year.  Things  were  not  then  as  they  are  now.  A  min- 
ister, according  to  the  old  prevailing  usage,  was  married  lor 
life  to  his  people  or  parish  in  the  early  times.  Separations 
were  a-  rare  from  the  first  ministry  as  divorces  from  the  wife 
of  one's  youth.  The  people  well  knew  that  a  minister  could 
not  know  everything  or  do  everything,  and  vet  everything  was 
laid  upon  him.  The  lawyer  and  the  physician  at  the  start  hail 
little  practice,  and  were  not  worn  down  by  responsibility; 
lint  the  minister  at  twenty-four  had  everything  to  do  that  he 
would  have  to  do  at  fifty.  Unless,  therefore,  a  people  were 
reasonably  indulgent,  they  would  add  to  the  burden  which 
must  he  home  by  him  and  perhaps  shorten    his  life. 

Mi-.  Bacon  was,  if  anything,  in  a  worse  position  than  most 
young  men  of  his  age.  There  had  been  in  the  same  pulpit  a 
while  before  a  great  master  of  theology,  who  tired  off  heavy 
-mi-  everv  Sunday  and  was  the  pride  of  the  ( 'enter  (  'hurch  in 
New  Haven.  The  people  were  n<>t  requiring,  they  were  kind: 
hut  who  is  sufficient  for  these  things  \  lint  he  was  natively  a 
hopeful  man  and  a  brave  man.  and  moreover  was  kindly  sup- 
ported by  Drs.  Taylor  and  Goodrich.  That  these  first  years  of 
his  pastorate  and  their  struggles  were  blest  to  him  mentally  and 
spiritually  cannot  be  doubted.  He  made  his  reading  service- 
able to  the  good  of  others  a-  early  as  1831,  by  publishing 
••Select  Practical  Writings  of  Richard  Baxter,"  which  was  pre- 
faced by  tin-  editor's  account  of  Baxter's  life.  In  the  year 
L835  there  was  a  commemoration  of  the  founding  of  New 
Haven,  two  centuries  before,  and  Mr.  Bacon  was  naturally 
expected   to  make  appropriate  mention  of  it,  as   being  the  era 


LEONARD    BACON.  229 

when  the  church  and  the  State  were  founded  together,  by 
Davenport  and  Eaton.  The  discourses,  which  were  delivered 
"ii  Sunday  evenings,  and  afterward  collected  into  a  volume 
entitled,  "Thirteen  Discourses  on  the  Two  Eundredth  Anni- 
versary of  the  Church  in  New  Eaven "  (1839),  did  him  very 
great  credit.  Ee  explored  the  records  and  brought  out  mate- 
rials hitherto  unknown.  Be  illustrated  with  the  hand  of  a 
master  in  history  and  of  a  loving  Pastor  the  mcztnabula  of  the 
colony  and  the  progress  of  the  church.  His  friends  and  the 
public  received  his  work  with  praise  and  gratitude.  We  may 
: id  this  as  an  era  of  his  life  from  which  he  gained  a  firm 
hold  of  public  confidence  ami  felt  hi-  own  strength. 

It  was  about  the  same  year  that  a  club  was  started,  as  much 
by  his  influence  a-  by  that  of  any  other  person,  which  included 
a  number  of  college  professors  and  Congregational  ministers, 
together  with  some  of  the  lawyers  and  others.  This  club, 
which  has  continued  until  the  present  time  and  from  which  a 
number  of  the  earlier  members  have  passed  away — Dutton, 
Lamed,  <»il»l>-.  Ludlow,  Henry  White,  among  others — was  a 
place  where  Dr.  liacoii  shone,  [ts  general  agreement  on  great 
public  questions,  the  confidence  and  nearness  of  feeling  of  it> 
members  to  one  another,  together  with  their  minor  differences 
of  ..pinion,  made  it  ;i  ino-t  plea-ant  circle;  and  here  the  \eiy 
uncommon  power-  in  conversation  and  argument  of  our  friend 
shone  preeminently.  There  was  no  superior  in  age  or  in 
acknowledged  public  standing  among  the  members.  They  bat- 
tled in  a  friendly  way  forthe  truth.  Temperance,  anti-slavery, 
the  schools,  the  sects  <<\'  Christendom,  the  special  political  and 
religious  questions  of  the  day.  whatever  at  the  time  excited 
interest,  was  chosen  for  discussion,  and  every  one  was  aided  in 
forming  hi-  opinions  by  every  other.  Dr.  Bacon's  wit.  his  rep- 
artee, keenness  of  perception,  and,  when  he  had  carefully  con 
sidered  a  subject,  his  soundness  of  judgment,  together  with  the 
brightness  and  originality  of  his  way  of  stating  hie  points 
made  him  the  life  of  the  company . 

In  1839  he  was  chosen  into  the  corporation  of  Yale  College, 
and  continued  to  hold    hie  seal  until    lslt',.  when,  on  the  r< 

nation  of     Presidenl    l>a\    ami    in  order  to  make  a  place  for  that 

venerable  man,  lie  resigned  hisown  -eat.     lie  was  reelected  in 


230  i  i:<>\  \  i;i i   BACON. 

1864  and  continued  in  that  body  until  bis  death.  In  the  course 
of  his  twenty  four  years  oi  service,  be  contributed  his  full 
share  to  the  solution  <>t  those  Important  questions  which  arc 
ever  arising  in  a  living  and  grown  seat  of  learning. 

\<>i  long  after  this  be  projected  /'/"  New  E/nglander,  or,  if 
the  idea  did  uot  come  firsl  from  him,  be  entered  into  the  pro- 
ject with  that  zeal  and  energy  without  which  it  could  not  have 
been  successful.  The  plan  was  that  there  should  he  a  com- 
mittee of  superintendence,  with  a  responsible  editor;  and  I 
suppose  that  the  committee,  of  which  the  writer  was  one,  were 
all  selected  by  Dr.  Bacon.  In  the  prospectus,  which  he  wrote 
or.  at  least,  inspired,  it  is  said  that  "there  is  no  intention  of 
reviving  in  this  periodical  the  theological  discussions  in  which 
Borne  of  tin'  ablest  New  England  divines  have  been  so  deeply 
engaged  within  the  last  fifteen  years."  In  other  words,  the 
periodica]  is  not  to  he  a  mere  sequel  to  the  Christian  Specta- 
tor. A  new  generation  regards  the  controversy  on  "  Taylor- 
ism"  as  having  finished  its  course  in  victory  and  as  needing 
no  more  advocacy;  and  again,  in  the  "prolegomena"  which  he 
wrote,  he  says:  "  It  is  not  to  he  expected  that  among  so  many 
individuals  then'  will  he  a  perfect  identity  of  opinion. 
(  hie  of  Us  may  say  to  another.  '  I  am  not  so  sanguine  a  demo- 
crat as  you  are,'  or,  '  Von  are  more  zealous  for  Congregational- 
ism than  I  can  he."  or.  'I  have  less  faith  in  the  doctrines  of 
political  economy  than  you."3  These  words  show  the  freedom 
,,f  opinion  which,  as  Dr.  Bacon  expected  ami  wished,  was  to 
reign  among  the  editors  and  the  contributors,  a  freedom,  of 
course,  limited  within  certain  hounds,  to  he  fixed  by  charity 
and  sound  sense.  According  to  these  views,  the  New  Eng- 
lander  had.  if  I  may  so  say.  a  wider  range  of  subjects  and  a 
larger  constituency,  who  in  the  main  approved  and  defended 
its  opinions,  than  the  plan  of  the  Christian  Spectator  could 
secure.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  Dr.  Bacon's  share  in  contri- 
butions, his  variety  of  discussion,  his  brightness,  sometimes 
approaching  to  flashes  of  lightning,  was  acknowledged  on  all 
bands,  and  nowhere  was  his  influence  more  conspicuous  than 
here.  The  articles  which  he  furnished  to  the  New  Ekglander 
between  1843  and  1861  were  sixty-two  in  number,  and  would 
make,    if  printed   together,   several    good-sized    volumes.     By 


LEONAHD    BACON".  ?-31 

degrees  the  original  plan  of  tin-  work  was  given  up,  the  com- 
mittee ceased  to  meet,  and  the  editors  were  responsible  for  the 
management  of  the  numbers,  but  until  the  present  time  the 
supplies  from  the  pen  of  the  old  man  who  founded  ir  did  not 
fail.  Two  considerable  articles  written  by  him  have  appeared 
within  a  few  months. 

Two  main  points  occupied  Dr.  Bacon's  attention  during  the 
most  vigorous  years  of  his  lift — ecclesiastical  affairs  and  the 
great  discussion  of  the  slave  question.  We  could  not  appre- 
ciate the  man  without  looking  for  a  moment  at  these  spheres 
of  his  activity. 

Hi:-  early  study  of  New  England  history  deepened  and  con- 
firmed his  native  Puritan  tendencies,  and  he  was  led,  in  his 
progress  of  thought,  to  look  on  the  early  history  of  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers  with  more  and  more  fondness.  Be  became  a  proficient 
in  this  branch  of  study,  and  probably  no  man.  except  Dr.  II. 
M.  Dexter,  has  searched  more  at  its  foundations.  lie  wrote, 
however,  no  important  work  until  he  took  the  chair  of  lecturer 
on  ecclesiastical  polity  and  American  church  history  in  the 
theological  faculty  of  Y^ale  College.  In  1ST+  he  gave  to  the 
world  his  "Genesis  of  the  New  England  Churches."  Those 
who  read  the  story  will  understand,'1  says  lie.  "  I  trust,  what 
many  are  ignorant  of  and  some  historians  have  not  sufficiently 
explained  the  difference  between  "our  Pilgrim  Fathers"  and 
"our  Puritan  Fathers."  "The  Puritan  was  a  nationalist. 
believing  that  a  Christian  nation  i»  n  Christian  church"; 
••while  the  Pilgrim  was  a  separatist—  from  all  national 
churches."  Thus  Dr.  Bacon  may  becalleda  "  Pilgrim,"  rather 
than  a  ••  Puritan,"  and  a-  such  he  could  not  have  joined,  if  he 
had  lived  at  the  time,  in  those  attempts  to  establish  a  state 
church  in  Connecticut  which  originated  the  Saybrook  Platform 
and  the  -\-tein  of  consociation,  in  I7"v:  and  yet,  in  his  able 
and    interesting  -ketch  of   those  event-,  in     1858,  a  century  and 

a  half  after  their  occurrence,  delivered  before  the  ministers 
assembled  al  Norwich,  he  almosl  take- the  part  of  ;i  mediator 
between  pure  and  modified  Congregationalism  in  these  words 
of  truth  and  of  conciliation:  "If  the  churches  of  Massachu- 
setts, l>\  their  chronic  jealousy  of  consociation,  have  guarded 
;inil  kept  intact  for  u- and  our  successors  the  independence  of 


232  LEONARD    BACON. 

the  parochial  or  local  church,  the  churches  of  Connecticut,  on 
the  other  hand,  by  their  strict  confederation,  bave  guarded  and 
maintained  and  have  effectually  commended  to  Congregation- 
alists  everywhere  thai  equally  importaril  and  equally  distinctive 
principle,  the  communion  ot   our  churches. 

In  accordance  with  these  views,  he  accepted  the  triennial 
conventions  of  the  late  years,  but,  as  I  understand  if.  did  ao1 
desire  them  to  become  a  usage  and  a  law;  nor  did  he  join  in 
new  platforms  and  .confessions  of  faith  and  the  growing  ten- 
dency to  turn  the  "  churches  "  into  a  ••  ( Jhurch,"  or  something 
very  near  it.  But  these  movements  began  somewhat  late  in  his 
ministerial  life,  and  his  own  church,  where  he  was  settled  so 
main  years,  had  not  for  generations  had  any  part  in  the  Con- 
necticul  system,  lie  did  not  take  as  active  a  part  in  them  as 
lie  mighl  have  taken  twenty  years  before.  The  amity  which 
reigned  in  the  State  made  him  rather  a  counselor  everywhere 
sought  for  and  respected  than  the  representative  of  an  ecclesi- 
asticaj  party.  He  was  looked  on  in  associations  and  conferences 
as  an  authority  who  knew  best  what  old  usages  were,  and  did 
n.»r  wish  to  overturn  them.  We  may  say,  thus,  that  he  was  in 
a  sense  a  bishop  of  Connecticut.  I  recollect  hearing  him  say 
.nice  that  in  every  body  of  churches  there  would  he  a  man  who 
had  the  episcopal  capacity,  a  bishop  endowed  for  the  office  by 
God.     It  was  something  so  in  bis  case. 

A.6  for  the  opposition  to  slavery  in  the  time  of  it,  he  entered 
most  heartily  into  it.  if  any  one  else  did  in  this  region,  hut 
could  not  coalesce  with  the  abolitionists.  His  views  may  he 
found  in  Beveral  articles  in  Th  New  Englander,  and  in  course 
of  time  he  scarcely-  differed  in  any  material  respect  from  men 
more  hostile  to  slavery  around  him — for  instance,  from  his 
warm  friend.  Dr.  Samuel  W.  S.   Dutton. 

In  connection  with  thi.-  subject  I  might  say  a  word  on  The 
Independent,  of  which  he  was  one  of  the  original  editors ;  but, 
a-  you,  Mr.  Editor,  know  your  own  history  best,  I  shall  leave  it 
in  your  hands. 

And  now  we  bave  come  to  a  point  in  the  course  oi  a  busy 
life  when  the  Pastor  of  forty  years' standing  and  the  man  of 
almost  sixty-five  was  feeling  the  weariness  which  calls  for  per- 
manent rest.     He  resigned  the  active  duties  of  his  charge,  and 


LEONARD    BACON.  233 

was  invited  t<»  take  for  the  time  the  instruction  of  theology  in 
tin-  theological  department  of  Yale  College.  For  five  years  lie 
performed  this  duty,  until  the  election  of  Rev.  Dr.  Harris  as 
a  permanent  professor,  in  1STI.  Then  he  received  the  appoint- 
ment of  ;i  lectureship  on  church  polity  and  American  church 
history,  which  he  filled  until  his  death,  last  week.  Saturday, 
December  24th.  1881.  A  number  of  attacks  during  the  six  or 
eight  preceding  months  had  given  him  warning  that  he  might 
l.c  called  away  at  anytime.  Be  was  writing  on  Friday  even- 
ing, "ii  the  question  how  t<>  deal  with  the  Mormons,  and  at 
five  the  next  morning  a  new  attack,  lasting  half  an  hour,  hut 
not  bo  3evere  as  sonic  earlier  ones  were,  called  him  home. 
Thus  ended  this  last  and  most  happy  era  of  hi-  life,  in  which. 
associated  with  men  who  loved  and  honored  him.  employed  in 
the  studies  which  he  preferred,  perhaps,  before  all  other-. 
Bervine  God  and  the  church,  he  nearly  reached  the  age  of  four 
-core  without  much  "  labor  and  sorrow." 

I  have  not  completed  what  I  wished  to  say  when  I  began, 
hut  must  close  with  the  remark  that  the  crowning  honor  of 
Dr.  Bacon's  life  was  his  growth  in  Christian  purity  of  charac- 
ter. No  man  can  he  so  well  assured  of  this  as  those  who  have 
known  him  long,  have  been  familiar  with  him  in  several  stages 
of  life,  and  can  -co  by  comparison  the  development  of  his 
character  in  the  best  direction.  I  will  instance  one  trait,  or 
group  of   trait-  of  character.      In  hi.-  youth  and   early  manhood 

he  wa-  sometimes   indignant   toward   those   who   had   injured 

him.   and    wa-   occasionally   -harp  ami  severe  toward  hi-  literaiw 

opponent-,   when,   perhaps,  there  was  not   sufncienl   occasion. 

Hut.    a-    often    happen-    with  men  of    warm  temperament    when 

the  Christian  life  becomes  mature,  he  grew  softer  and  kinder; 
his  charity  toward  those  who  differed  from  him  increased  ;  his 

wit    did    not    BO    much    take    hold  of    ridiculoUB   point-  in  a  man 

who  laid  himself  open   in  controversy.     There  wa-  more  than 

a    want    of    bigotry  in    him    (which    he  really  never  had  i  ;    there 

wa-  kindliness  toward  all  opinions,  unless  thej  were  associated 
with   evil,     lie   thu-   gave   the   impression  to  those  who  came 

into  contact   with  him  casually  that   he  was  a  kind  man.   jir-t   the 

same  that  he  gave  to  hi-  parishioners  in  their  afflictions  that  he 

t..ok  a   part   in   their  Borrow.       His  friend-  loved  and   valued  him 


::i 


l.l<>\  \  |;|t    l;\in\. 


increasingly,  and,  now  thai  he  is  gone,  they  feel  thai  it  will  nol 
be  easj  to  find  one  possessed  of  so  rare  a  combination  of  esti- 
mable qualities.  I,  for  one,  am  free  to  confess  that,  when  I 
place   his   youth,   with   all   its  germs  "I    power  and  its  sparkle 

and    brilliancy,    l>\     tin'    side    of    liis    acme  ami    his    old    age,  lie 

srrew  to  lie  a  better,  a  wiser,  a  more  useful  man  than  I  had  ex 
pected.  Hopeful  and  admiring  as  his  friends  of  early  days 
were,  and  much  as  they  then  saw  in  him  of  genius  and  ability, 
so  Large  an  influence,  so  much  softness  and  mellowness  of  feel- 
ing, such  growth  in  goodness  and  godliness  they  hardly  looked 
for.     ••  Like  the  sun,  he  grew  larger  at  the  setting." 

New  I  l.'ivrii.  Conn. 


\FUOM    THE  CONGREGATIONALISM 


LEONARD    BACON. 


A  prince  an<l  a  greal  man  is  suddenly  fallen  in  Israel.  A 
New-Englander  by  blood  and  sympathy  and  life,  though  not  in 
the  accidenl  <>f  birth,  an  always  aide  and  sometimes  eloquent 
preacher,  an  influential  Pastor,  an  energetically  self-consistent 
theologian,  a  Learned  and  lucid  teacher,  a  skilled  editor,  a  pro- 
found and  philosophic  historian,  a  gifted  poet,  a  pungenl  rea- 
Boner,  a  fearless  sympathizer  with  every  struggle  against 
wrong,  a  ready  and  effective  debater,  a  much-sought  counsellor, 
a  clear-headed  Christian  publicist,  a  thinker  singularly  prompt, 
in  fact,  to  fuse  and  forge  and  tit  the  abstract  of  all  greal  prin 
ciples  to  the  exigencies  of  whatever  concrete  duty,  an  iudefati 
gable  worker,  holding  his  pen  to  the  last,  a  divine  the  ermine 
of  whose  pict\  has  been  kept  unspotted  from  the  world  to 
well-nigh  four  score,  a  many-sided  scholar  who  might  have 
been  great  anywhere  and    who  would    have   been  good   ever) 

where,  a   man  the   totality  ol    whose  Christian    manhood    always 

overtopped   each  separate   feature  oi    hi>  excellence,  has   been 
called  to  hi-  eternal  reward.  Leaving  do  peer  behind  him. 
W.   liave  summarized  elsewhere  the  main  facts  of  liis  career : 

it   remain-    here,  in   that    poor  and    ha-ty   wa\    possible  to  the  cir 

enmstances,  to  attempt  two  or  three  L)rief  hints  of  some  aspects 
of   what.   b\    original  endowment    and    superintending  provi 
deuce,  God  made  him  to  become. 


•j:;i;  Leonard  bacon. 

As  a  Pastor  be  largely  shaped  one  of  the  must  important  as 
well  as  oldesl  churches  of  New  England.  Entering  its  pulpil 
when  a  stripling  of  scarcely  three  and  twenty,  for  more  than 
Forty  years  lie  l>ore  the  gveal  burden  of  its  ever-growing 
responsibilities  alone,  not  only  successfully,  bul  in  a  manner 
whicli  made  bis  subsequent  e7ne9vitu8  relation,  to  the  last  liour, 
fruitful  of  influence.  And  this  in  spite  of  the  fact  that,  while 
be  never  preached  weak  or  foolish  sermons,  be  did  sometimes 
preach  dull  ones.  Hi-  was  a  great  soul  taking  most  kindly  to 
ureal  subjects,  and  thus  it  sometimes  came  about  that  on  ordi- 
nary occasions  the  fire  which  required  a  vigorous  draught  t<> 
bring  it  up  to  it-  tidiest  glow,  smoldered  a  little.  But  we 
never  heard  that  be  proved  unequal  to  an  emergency,  however 
portentous  or  unanticipated.  And  we  know  that  tho.se  men 
and  many  of  them  were  men  of  marked  ability — who  sat  habit- 
ually under  his  ministry,  were  conscious  of,  and  responsive  to, 
the  same,  as  a  wise  and  perpetual  stimulus  to  every  good  word 
and  work.  Had  he  died  having  lived  to  till  only  the  place 
which  he  would  have  had  in  Connecticut,  and  in  the  land,  as 
the  1'astor  of  the  First  Church  in  New  Haven,  his  place  must 
have  been  assigned  high  upon  the  list  of  our  ministerial 
worthies. 

But  some  sixty  of  his  almost  eighty  years  were  lived  in  the 
face  and  eves  of  Vale  College,  and  in  closer  connection  with  it 
as  student,  friend,  fellow,  professor;  and  it  would  be  a  ven- 
turesome imagination  which  should  take  upon  itself  to  conjec- 
ture the  contribution  of  various  benign  influences  rendered  by 
him  to  it-  general  welfare.  Thousands  and  thousands  of  its 
students  have  listened  to  his  calm,  clear  logic,  responded  to  bis 
fervid  appeals,  laughed  at  his  fun,  respected  his  solid  sense. 
and  gone  all  over  the  world  with  a  kind  mei w  in  Bome  cor- 
ner of  the  heart  for  his  honored  and  unforgetable  personality. 
While  those  who,  since  L866,  have  been  in  one  way  and 
another  under  his  direct  instruction  there,  must  bave  felt  that 
if  the  years  were  in  anything  dimming  the  lustre  of  his  talents. 
rhe\  were  al-o  bo  ripening  and  enriching  him.  as  on  the  whole 
to  make  increase  of  hi-  power. 

Dr.  Bacon  began  to  write  for  the  old  Christian  Spectator 
while   he  wa-    yet  in    his   minority,  a  student   at  Andover.      lie 


LEONARD    BACON.  231 

has  contributed  more  than  one  hundred  essays  t<»  the  iWv1 
Englander —  large  part  of  which  quarterly,  in  fact,  in  the 
beginning,  he  was.  As  one  of  the  three  original  editors  of  the 
New  York  Independent  he  hugely  helped  to  make  its  earliest 
ten  or  fifteen  years  its  l>est — so  far.  He  has  been  one  of  our 
own  most  frequent  and  valued  contributors.  He  lias  also 
written,  and  written  with  conclusive  force,  volumes  on  a 
variety  of  subjects.  His  Slavery  Discussed,  etc.  (1846),  was 
declared  to  have  had  large  influence  in  bringing  the  mind  of 
Abraham  Lincoln  into  that  state  which  enabled  him  to  do  his 
great  work.  His  Lif  of  Richa/rd  Baxter .(1831),  his  Mammal 
for  Young  Church  Members  (1833),  his  Thirteen  Historical 
Discourses  (1839),  and  notably  the  so-called  Boston  Platform, 
largely  from  his  pen  (1872),  and  his  Genesis  of  //>>  New  Eng- 
land Churches  (1874),  have  greatly  assisted  to  clarify  the  con- 
ceptions of  Oongregationalists  with  regard  to  the  true  nature 
of  the  honorable  facts  of  their  past  history,  the  exact  principles 
of  their  politv.  and  the  precise  quality  of  the  duties  imposed 
by  that  polity  upon  them.  A.8  a  Congregational  student  and 
author,  if  Dr.  Bacon  did  not  go  so  far  in  original  research  as 
some  other.-  may  have  done,  he  was  unsurpassed  in  that  subtle 
skill  which  evolve-  philosophy  safely  from  fact,  and  conversely 
settles  securely  what  ought  to  be  in  consideration  of  what  has 
been. 

And  this  suggests  one  of  the  usefulest  aspects  of  his  char 
acter  as  brought  out  in  his  wholesome,  instructive,  persuasive 
and  delightful  relation  to  most  of  the  great  occasions  of  Con- 
gregationalism during  the  lasl  generation.  There  are  many 
who  must  still   remember  the  thrill,  which,  almost   thirty  years 

.  went  through  the  Albany  ('oliventioii  when    he    presented 

the  munificent  offer  of  Messrs.  Bowen  *.V  McNamee  to  give 
|10,000  to  aid  in  erecting  Congregational  meeting-houses  at 
the  West,  provided  all  other  Congregationalists  in  the  land 
(we  had  scarcely  2,000  churches  then,  all  told),  would  subscribe 
(40,000  more.     Who     present   in  the  great    Boston  Council  of 

1865      doefi    not    recall    hi-    pithy  and    pertinent    relation    to    its 

deliberations,  ami  to  those  of  the  Oberlin  and  New  Haven 
Triennial  meetings  as  well.  Weall  remember  Iiom  he  presided 
over   each  of  the  two  greal    Brooklyn   advisory  conncils     as 

17 


I  i.«>\  \  i;i>    BACON. 

indeed  over  others  whose  name  is  legion.  And  whal  will  the 
annual  meeting  of  the  American  Board  be  withoul  bis  spicy, 
sagacious  and  benignanl  presence!  When  called  upon  sud- 
denly al  Plymouth  Rock,  in  1 865,  to  fill  a  narrow  gap  of  time, 
he  witiilx  said,  "Whal  is  the  use  of  a  man  who  is  essentially 
long-winded^  undertaking  to  make  a  speech  in  three  minutes." 
lie    knew    bimself   essentially  as    to    that.       lie   did    nut    always 

turn  aboul  and  around  upon  his  feel  so  readily  as  if  he  had 
been  a  smaller  and  a  swifter  person.  Bui  his  speeches  were  bo 
full  .if  pirh  and  sense,  so  shrewd  and  original  often,  and 
always  so  grand  in  their  intent,  that  if  now  and  then  a  shallow 
hearer  got  full  before  the  speaker  had  emptied  himself ,  there 
were  yet  always  listeners  who  wanted  more. 

We  have  room  hut  to  snidest  another  thought.  It  was  one 
of  the  lovely  traits  of  this  great  and  good  man  that  age  soft- 
ened and  sweetened  and  enlarged  his  nature,  lie  seemed  to 
grow  young  in  charitable  feeling  year  by  year.  His  thoughts 
ever  fresher,  his  sympathies  ever  broader  and  more  benignant. 
Nobody  could  suspeci  a  tinge  of  octogenarism  in  his  vivacious 
and  sparkling  essays,  or  in  the  shrewd  sense  which  fell  from  his 
lips.  He  was  afraid  of  nothing  simply  because  it  was  new,  and 
he  clung  to  few  things  simply  because  they  were  old. 

From  the  days  of  John  Cotton  and  John  Davenport,  and 
Increase  and  Cotton  Mather,  and  John  Wise  and  Jonathan 
Edwards  and  Ezra  Stiles,  and  Timothy  Dwight  and  Lyman 
Beecher,  and  their  illustrious  compeers,  until  now,  there  have 
been  many  mighty  names  written  in  the  annals  of  the  Congre- 
gational churches  of  New  England.  [& our  judgment  it  admits 
of  doubt  whether  the  future,  far  enough  to  discriminate  "fairly, 

will    read    therein  any  in  all    aspects,  and    for  all  which    it   sug- 
-.  more  honored  and  more  beloved,  than  that  id'  him  whom 
now  we  mourn. 


[FROM  THE  CHRISTIAN   UNION.'] 


LEONARD    BACON,    D.D. 


The  (leatli  of  Dr.  Bacon,  in  the  eightieth  year  of  his 
age,  occurred  a1  New  Haven,  his  borne  for  fifty-seven  years,  on 
Saturday,  December  24th.  It  was  apparently  not  altogether  a 
surprise  to  his  friends;  but  it  was  wholly  unexpected  by  the 
public. 

Dr.  Bacon  was  a  born  soldier.  He  loved  a  battle  :  not  as  a 
Duke  of  Alva  but  as  a  Chevalier  Bayard;  not  f or  its  carnage 
bul  for  it-  courage.  Controversy  brings  oul  truth  clearly ;  it 
brushes  away  the  cobwebs  which  spiders  spin  over  the  fine 
glass  in  an  undisturbed  room.  Dr.  Bacon  loved  truth,  and  con- 
troversy because  it  clarifies  truth.  He  was  born  into  a  stormy 
time  ami  was  fitted  for  it.  He  was  a  natural  captain,  not  be- 
cause  of  his  executive  ability,  to  organize  ami  wield  men  in 
solid  battalions,  but  because  of  thai  contagious  courage  which 
always  inspires  followers  though  thej  know  not  whither  the> 
are  being  led.  WTierever,  during  the  lasl  half  century,  a  bat- 
tle hae  raged  for  human  right  and  welfare,  there  the  white 
plume  of  this  Henrj  of  Navarre  of  theologj  has  been  seen, 
and  there  followers  have  streamed  after  him.  Bui  they  have 
always  Keen  volunteers;  with  them  he  never  held  council  of 
war  beforehand,  to  them  he  never  issued  congratulatory  bulle- 
tins afterward.  Never  was  man  more  courageous  ;  he  counted 
neither  the  li"-t  thai  opposed  nor  the  recruits  thai   followed. 

lie    was    e,|ii;il|\    ready  to    - :  1 1 1  \    Bgainsl     the    .  ■  1 1 .  •  1 1 1  \     with    three 


•J  I"  LEONARD  BACON. 

hundred  unarmed  volunteers,  or  to  go  up  againsl  them  witli 
"iil\  aii  armor  bearer,  or  to  tr\  their  champion  alone,  with  hut 
a  shepherd's  sling.  And  he  knew  how  to  take  the  champion's 
b\* i >rd  to  >lav  him  with. 

Never  was  man  more  absolutely  truthful ;  more  supremely 
indifferent   whether  the  truth   hurt  or  helped  his  cause  or  his 
party.       Indeed,    his   cause    was   always    the   cause  of   truth,  and 
party  he  had  none.      lie  was  always   prompt  to  turn  his  trench 
ant  satire  upon  the  friend  and   follower  of  yesterday,  it'  to-day 

the  friend  and  follower  seemed  to  him  to  he  falsi'  to  the  truth 
of  God.  He  was  (piite  as  fearless  an  anti-slavery  man  as 
William  Lloyd  Garrison;  hut  was  as  quick  to  criticise  the 
spiril  and  methods  of  the  anti-slavery  reformers  as  to  assaull 
the  conservatism  that  praised  or  palliated  or  pardoned  slavery. 
He  was  the  relentless  foe  of  the  liquor  traffic,  and  equally  of 
the  false  philosophy  that  hopes  to  eradicate  it  by  a  statute. 
He  was  a  leader  among  Congregationalists ;  hut  Congrega- 
tionalists  were  always  afraid  of  him  lest  he  should  out  with 
some  unpalatable  truth  of  history  Or  Biblical  interpretation,  or 
philosophical  principle  that  the  enemy  could  quote  against 
their  ism.  Xo  truth  could  he  ever  he  counted  on  to  conceal 
for  party  ends  or  personal  triumph.  Neither  personal  friend- 
ship nor  party  interest  ever  muddled  the  clearness  of  his  vision 
or  deflected  the  simplicity  of  his  purpose.  In  the  hour  of  Mr. 
Beecher's  adversity  he  was  at  once  hi-  warmesl  friend  and  Ins 
sharpest  critic.  He  never  deserted  and  he  never  flattered  a 
friend;  he  never  surrendered  to  and  he  never  maltreated  an 
enemy.  To  him  no  end  was  sacred  that  foul  means  need  Berve. 
If  he  took  a  pleasurable  pride  in  his  stalwart  independence, 
this  was  a  pardonable  weakness,  if  it  were  a  weakness;  would 
that  more  ministers  had  it ! 

lie  belonged  to  the  besl  type  of  Puritan  stock.  The  Puri- 
tan, like  the  Hebrew,  regarded  practical  righteousness  as  the 
consummation  of  religion,     for  a  piety  that   produced  nothing 

but  prayer-  and  penances  the  Hebrew  prophet  and  the  New 
England  preacher  had  a  common  and  a  healthy  contempt. 
Dr.    Bacon    was   essentially   a    Puritan    preacher;    a    Hebrew 

prophet.       In    the    pulpit,    on     the   theme-    too   commonly   dis- 

cussed  in  the  desk,  he  was  not  more  interesting  than  a  thousand 


LEONARD    BACON.  241 

nameless  and  unknown  teachers  of  theology.  He  had  no  arts 
of  rhetoric  or  elocution  with  which  to  dress  up  a  scholastic 
lecture;  he  was  no  skillful  shopman,  to  make  a  wire  skeleton 
look  like  a  woman,  by  the  aid  of  cloak  and  bonnet;  hut  when 
humanity  was  concerned,  when  truth  was  desecrated  in  it> 
sacred  temple,  when  the  slave  power  attempted  to  jj,-au-  the 
American  pulpit,  and  did  for  a  time  gag  the  great  representa- 
tive religious  bodies,  every  fibre  of  his  heroic  soul  was  aroused, 
and  he  thundered  out  his  denunciation  of  the  double  wrong 
that  enslaved  a  Northern  ministry  that  it  might  enslave  a 
Southern  black,  with  an  eloquence  that  needed  no  rhetoric  or 
elocution  to  compel  a  hearing.  It  was  a  significant  fact  that 
his  last  act  was  the  composition  of  an  unfinished  paper  on  the 
I'tah  problem.  He  worked  to  the  last  for  man.  With  God, 
for  man  :  in  these  four  words  are  to  Ik-  found  the  secret  of  his 
courage  and  his  power. 

We  make  no  attempt  To  tell  the  story  of  his  life.  To  do 
this  it  would  he  necessary  to  write  the  history  of  hi-  country. 
Hi-  ti iv—  t  parish  was  his  last  one;  he  was  ordained,  lived,  and 
died  in  New  Haven.  l!nt  America  was  hi-  pulpit,  and  her 
people  hi-  congregation  :  and  there  was  not  a  theme  which 
concerned  her  prosperity  which  his  incessantly  active  mind  did 
not  study,  and  upon  which  his  ever  vigorous  voice  and  pen  did 

not  do  gome  effective  teaching.      lie   made  some   mistakes; 

mo-t  men  d".  Bui  there  \\a-  no  theme  on  which  he  did  not 
court  \'vri-  thought,  and  none  on  which  he  ever  proved  recreant 
to  hi-  own  convictions  of  t he  truth. 


FROM   THE  RELIGIOUS  HERALD. 


DR.   BACON  AND   DR.   HliSIlNliLL 


i;v  Rev.  X.  n.  Egieston. 


More  and  more  as  time  passes,  we  shall  fee]  that  in  the  death 
of  Dr.  Bacon  a  great  man  has  gone  from  among  us.  If  greal 
natural  and  acquired  powers  devoted  to  great  and  worthy  ends 
constitute  greatness;  he  was  a  great  man.  Ami  now  as  we  look 
back  upon  his  life  as  a  whole,  we  can  hardly  help  coupling  him 
in  our  thoughts  with  another  great  man,  his  contemporary,  who 
has  preceded  him  only  a  little  while  to  the  other  world.  Bom 
in  the  same  year  as  Dr.  Bushnell,  and  for  some  time  also  a  resi- 
dent of  Hartford,  to  which  city  he  was  also  hound  by  the  tie  of 
his  father's  grave  which  is  there,  and  by  a  happy  marriage,  there 
are  many  points  of  resemblance  between  the  two,  while  yet 
they  were  so  differently  constituted  that  they  were  led  into 
fields  of  labor  and  usefulness  quite  unlike.  They  were  so  akin 
in  -pirit  and  character  that  they  cherished  a  profound  respect 
and  a  warm  attachment  to  each  other  through  life.  In  the 
days  of  his  persecution,  Dr.  Bushnell  could  count  upon  Dr. 
Bacon  as  one  of  his  ateadfasl  friends,  and  whenever  he  pub- 
lished a  new  hook.  Dr.  l'>acoii  was  one  of  the  few  whose  opin- 
ion in  regard  to  it  he  cared  to  know.  And  what  a  tribute, 
coming  from  such  a  man,  was  that  which  Dr.  Bacon  paid  to 
Dr.  Bushnell  at  New  Haven,  soon  after  the  death  of  the  latter, 
when  he  declared  that  his  extraordinary  achievements  made 
him  and  others  like  him  ashamed  because  in  comparison  they 
had  done  -o  litt  le. 


l.KnNA  RD    BACOJST.  '2V>\ 

Both  wen-  great  preachers,  yel  very  unlike  as  preachers. 
In  Dr.  Bushnell  the  imaginative  faculty  was  much  more  largely 
developed  than  in  Dr.  Bacon,  though  in  the  latter  it  was  by 
no  means  lacking,  bu1  in  Dr.  Bushnell  it  was  the  leading,  dom- 
inaiiT  faculty,  while  in  Dr.  Bacon  it  held  a  subordinate  place. 
A- a  preacher,  Dr.  Bacon  while  never  weak  or  common-place 
ami  always  instructive,  seldom  rose  to  heights  of  great  impres- 
siveness  except  as  great  occasions  came  to  him.  Dr.  Bushnell 
made  his  own  occasions,  ami  they  came  with  almost  every  Sab- 
bath  that  he  met  his  eager  ami  expectant  congregation. 

\)y.  Bushnell's  mind  was  original  and  creative,  Dr.  Bacon's 
fed  and  grew  in  the  fields  of  tact.  The  mind  of  Dr.  Bushnell 
was  speculative,  intuitional,  abstract.  That  of  Dr.  Bacon  was 
analytical  and  nicely  discriminative,  and  dealt  largely  with  the 
concrete.  Dr.  Bacon  was  a  student  of  men.  Dr.  Bushnell 
was  a  student  of  man.  The  former  was  a  large  reader  in  many 
fields  of  knowledge.  Dr.  Bushnell  was  more  a  thinker  than  a 
reader.  Rather,  perhaps  it  should  be  said  that  the  one  read,  and 
on  the  basis  of  hi-  reading  thought  wisely  and  well,  while  the 
other  thought  out  his  conclusions  first,  and  then  read  to  some 
extenl  to  see  how  far  he  agreed  or  disagreed  with  those  who 
had  gone  before  him.  Both  were  independent  in  their  think- 
ing. They  called  no  man  master.  They  broughl  every  opinion 
fearlessly  to  the  bar  of  their  own  individual  judgment.  But 
the  mind  of  Dr.  Bacon  was  historic.  It  was  a  rich  storehouse 
of  fact-  out  of  which,  as  all  know,  he  continually  brought 
treasures  new  and  old  to  illustrate  any  subject  that  might  he 
under  discussion.  While  both  were  equally  of  large  mold  and 
kept  themselves  acquainted  with  the  work  of  the  world  around 
them  in  all  its  departments  of  activity,  Dr.  Bacon  lived  much 
in  the  past,  lie  was  at  home  with  the  worthies  of  other  times, 
and  ever  readv  to  compare  the  pas!  with  the  presenl  and  to 
draw  lessons  from  the  one  for  the  guidance  of  the  other.  Dr. 
Bushnell,  while  living  in  the  presenl  and  intensely  engaged  in 

its   work,  had  an  e\e  ever  looking   toward-    llie    future  and   was 

al way-  linking  the  t wo  togel her. 

Dr.  Bushnell  was  a  leader  of  thought,  Dr.  Bacon  of  action. 
The  one  affected  men  in  their  inward  <-<>n\  ictions  ami  feelings, 
the  other  in   their  practical  determinations.     The  one  was  the 


2  I  I  LEON  \  RD    BACON. 

man  of  ideas,  the  other  the  man  of  affairs.  The  former  was 
little  Been  beyond  the  limits  of  his  own  parish.  His  face  was 
not  i';iiiiili;ir  to  the  world,  lie  was  seldom  Been  on  platforms 
ot  in  conventions.  He  touched  the  world  from  his  pulpit  and 
with  his  pen.  I  >r.  Bacon,  it  may  almosl  be  said,  was  known  as 
well  outside  of  his  parish  as  within  it.  If  the  pulpit  was  the 
throne  of  Dr.  Bushnell,  the  platform  was  Dr.  Bacon's.  There 
he  reigned  supreme.  It'  as  a  preacher  Dr.  Bushnell  had  few 
equals,  <>n  the  rostrum  Dr.  Bacon  had  no  superior.  Asa  leader 
of  assemblies  he  was  unsurpassed.  As  a  debater  on  occasions 
of  interesl  he  never  mel  the  antagonist  by  whom  he  was  van- 
quished. A.t  ordinary  times  and  in  other  places  one  of  the 
most  quiel  and  inconspicuous  of  men.  in  conventions  and  coun- 
cils, and  when  important  questions  were  pressing  for  decision, 
rl it'ii  the  grand  qualities  and  characteristics  of  the  man  ap- 
peared. He  came  into  the  field  of  debate  like  the  line-of-battle 
ship  of  some  great  admiral,  ports  all  open  and  heavy  guns 
pouring  forth  their  thundering  broadsides,  now-  on  the  right 
and  now  on  the  Left,  while  from  the  main-top  and  cross-trees 
muskets  and  grenades  were  aiding  by  their  lighter  but  coopera- 
tive work.  Then  all  the  treasures  of  his  historic  reading 
came  forth  at  his  bidding  to  make  his  arguments  massive  and 
weighty  with  illustrative  fact  or  warning  example,  while  an 
exhaustless  memory  and  a  kindled  fancy  illumined  and  enli- 
vened the  whole  with  apt  quotation  and  pithiest  anecdote. 

Dr.  Bacon  was  eminently  a  leader  of  men.  And  this  he  was 
not  simply  or  mainly  because  of  his  peculiar  native  or  acquired 
powers,  but  because  he  was  devoted  to  truth  and  led  by  it.  In 
this  again  the  two  of  whom  we  have  been  speaking  were  alike. 
They  both  sought  truth  for  themselves  as  their  chief  treasure, 
and  as  the  chief  treasure  for  man.  And  so  while  both  were 
greal  leadere  of  men,  though  in  differenl  ways  and  by  differenl 
methods,  they  were  not  partisans.  They  were  too  broad 
minded  and  too  loyal  to  the  truth  to  he  mere  leaders  of  a  sect 
or  a  party.  Acting  with  parties  and  lending  their  aid  to 
parties  so  long  as  they  advocate  truth,  whenever  they  failed  to 
do  bo  they  were  ready  to  denounce  and  forsake  them.  In  this 
they  never  tools  counsel  of  flesh  and  blood.  What  would 
harm  or  benefil   them  personally,  they  never  seem  to  have  eon- 


LEONARD    BACON.  245 

sidered.  Neither  of  them  looked  around  to  see  who  were 
ready  to  follow  or  support  them,  nor  after  a  conflict  did  they 
]>ut  on  airs  of  triumph.  Their  victory  was  God's,  not  their 
own,  am  1  triumph  rather  humbled  than  elated  them.  They 
walked  in  God's  great  presence  as  little  children. 

They  were  alike,  again,  in  that  greatness  of  character  which 
is  above  the  manifestation  of  condescension  to  others.  In 
their  intercourse  with  them  they  never  left  the  impression 
opon  others  that  they  regarded  themselves  as  their  superiors. 
They  never  tied  their  white  cravats  with  self-complacent 
admiration,  nor  were  careful  of  their  "semi-lunar  fardels." 
The  young  preacher,  timid  and  self-distrustful,  could  take 
them  freely  by  the  hand.  Rather  would  they  anticipate  his 
advances,  and  put  him  at  once  at  case  and  on  terms  of  equality 
with  them.  Gentle  and  forbearing,  yet  faithful  in  their  criti- 
cisms of  their  younger  brethren,  they  were  too  many  in  their 
novitiate  fellow-helpers  Indeed.  The  writer,  for  one.  can  never 
cease  to  feel  his  obligations  to  both  for  their  companionship 
and  counsel  in  the  days  of  youth  and  inexperience.  Be 
learned  too,  in  assuming  the  charge  of  the  Center  <  Jhurch  dur- 
ing Dr.  Bacon's  absence  in  Europe  and  the  farther  East,  what 
he  could  not  have  dour  otherwise,  how  he  had  hound  that 
church  to  himself  by  cords  of  esteem  and  affection  which 
only  death  could  sever,  nay.  by  such  a-  reach  within  the  veil. 

Great  men  !  Great  blessings  to  the  world !  We  miss  them, 
ami  shall  miss  them.  We  shall  feel  the  need  of  them  at  times, 
and  perhaps  forget  that  God  never  creates  a  vacancy  thai  he 
does  not  also  fill.  Bu1  their  work  remains,  both  in  their  pub 
lished  words  on  our  Bhelves  and  in  what  they  have  wrought 
into  our  personal  life  and  institution-.  Our  theology,  our 
Christology,  are  the  better,  the  more  consonant  with  both 
reason  and  Scripture,  tor  the  thought  that  Dr.  Bushnell  has 
given  them.  Our  ecclesiastical  lite  is  less  bigoted,  broader,  less 
sectarian  and  more  trulj  Christian  tor  what  Dr.  Bacon  has 
written  and  spoken.  The  great  foreign  and  home  missionary 
operations  of  our  denomination,  if  not  more,  have  been  quiet 
■  I  in  their  activity  and  augmented  in  their  power  l>\  his 
zealous  activity  in  their  behalf.  Our  social  lite,  our  morals 
and  our  politic*  throughout   the  land   have  felt  the  beneficial 


•.'I'''  LEONARD    BACON. 

touch  of  his  wakeful  interest  in  everj  tiling  good.  Only  two 
days  before  his  death,  as  the  anniversary  of  the  landing  of  the 
Pilgrims  came  round  again,  for  liow  m;in\  patriotic  and  Chris- 
tion  hearts  <li<l  his  Pilgrim  hymn  beginning,  "  <  >  God,  beneath 
thy  guiding  hand,"  voice  their  feelings  anew  and  help  to 
quicken  their  appreciation  of  thai  greal  event. 

And  his  last  work,  on  the  following  day,  was  an  endeavor  to 
aid  in  removing  thai  greal  blot  upon  our  national  character, 
that  cancer  in  our  social  life,  the  Mormon  iniquity.  So  he 
died  with  his  harness  on. 

Soldier  of  »  Ihrist,  w  ell  done  ! 
Praise  be  thy  new  emploj  ; 

And  while  eternal  agea  run. 
I.vsi  in  fchj  Saviour's  joy. 
Williamstown,  Mass 


[FROM    THE  ADVANCER 


DR.    LEONARD    BACON 


b>    I'kui  .  Jambs  T.   Htde. 


Hi-  sudden  death  moves  the  whole  community  at  New  Ha- 
ven profoundly.  The  patriarch  of  the  Connecticut  ministry, 
the  living  embodiment  of  the  history  of  Y"ale  College  and  of 
the  New  England  churches,  the  keen  critic  and  brilliant  debater 
of  public  affairs  for  more  than  tit'ry  years,  the  ardent  agitator 
and  vigorous  reformer,  the  voluminous  author,  the  witty  and 
versatile  editor,  the  skilful  theological  teacher,  the  catholic, 
progressive  thinker,  the  exuberant,  irrepressible,  and  entertain- 
ing talker,  who  has  contributed  bo  much  r<»  the  social,  literary, 
ecclesiastical,  national  life  "!'*  our  day,  just  as  he  was  rounding 
out  hie  eightieth  year,  fell  asleep.  The  night  before  be  died 
he  was  writing  in  hope  of  solving  the  much  vexed  Mormon 
problem,  and  entered  in  In-  diary  il  am  told)  "Nearly  finished 
the  article. v  The  day  before  he  was  writing;  two  day-  before 
In-  lectured  ;  three  days  before  he  attended  a  facility  meeting  ; 
on  the  Sunday  previous  he  attended  church  and  gave  oul  the 
notices;  within  a  month  he  preached  at  Thanksgiving  and 
administered  the  Lord's  Supper  in  the  one  church  of  winch  he 
ua-  the  life-long  and  devoted  Pastor.  So  intense  was  his  vital 
itv  and  so  preeminent  In-  Berviceableness  to  the  very  end. 

(  )n  (  lii-i-tina-  morning   I   attended  the  <  'enter  <   lnircli.  which 

wa-  onlj    too  heavilv   draped   with  mourning.     The  holy  day 


•_'  i  8  ii'1  »N  \i;p   R  vet  >v 

seemed  to  be  shrouded  with  solemnity,  grief  and  gloom.  Bu1 
with  an  excellenl  sermon  from  Prof.  Barbour  on  the  sympathy 
of  Ohrisl  in  his  incarnation,  with  exquisite  singing  of  "I  would 
not  live  away,"  and  of  an  "  In  Memoriam  "  requiem,  with  many 
precious  and  tearful  memories  of  the  serene  and  joyous  faith 
and  lively  companionship  of  the  venerable  man  who  had  gone 
up  into  hie  heavenly  rest  and  eternal  ministry  at  God's  righl 
hand,  we  were  able  to  preserve  some  little  -park  even  of  spirit- 
ual hilarity  on  the  bright  and  festive  day.  in  spite  of  its  oppres- 
sive Badness.  How  thankful  we  oughl  to  he  that  such  good 
men.  after  outliving  all  their  asperities  and  ripening  in  all  their 
Christian  graces, — the  heroes  of  so  many  bitter,  earnest,  hard- 
fought  and  victorious  conflicts— COW  die,  escape  from  sin, 
infirmity,  error,  and  he  in  perfect  peace,  and  rise  into  the 
communion  of  elect  saints,  sa<<-es  and  scholars,  who  are  forever 
with  the  Lord ! 

On  Tuesday  afternoon  he  was  buried.  The  day  was  sadly 
dark  and  wet.  The  church  was  lighted  almost  at  noonday. 
By  special  request  there  were  no  floral  tributes.  A  heavy 
sheaf  of  wheat  stood  on  the  large  communion  table.  The 
severely  simple  tastes  of  this  honored  champion  of  Puritan 
principles  were  strictly  observed.  His  face  looked  somewhat 
fuller  than  in  former  years,  but  wore  a  striking  and  rigid  nat- 
uralness. He  smiled  with  a  stern  eloquence  that  seemed  ready 
to  break  from  mute  lips.  The  wonder  was  that  his  brain 
rested,  hi-  heart  was  quiet,  his  hands  kept  still.  But  he  had 
only  been  stopped  by  that  angina  pectoris  which  caught  him  at 
daybreak  on  Saturday  with  its  secret  and  sudden  grip. 

The  revered  and  beloved  ex-Presidenl  VToolsey,  now  an  octo- 
genarian, Dr.  Bacon's  college  class-mate  and  \i'v\  long  neighbor 
as  well  a-  friend,  felt  unable  to  officiate  iii  the  public  burial 
service,  hut  prayed  with  the  bereaved  family  at  the  house. 
The  father  of  fourteen  children,  four  of  whom  became  Chris- 
tian ministers,  was  home  by  the  hands  of  six  sons  to  the  sanct- 
uarv  when-  lie  had  preached  since  1825,  and  his  pastoral  rela- 
tion could  be  dissolved  only  by  death. 

Ah  bis  Congregationalism  was  simply  Christianity,  his  \cry 
silence  called  a  multitude  of  every  Christian  name  to  pay  him 
their   last    offices  of   respect,  admiration  and   affection.     They 


LEONARD    BACON  249 

gathered  from  every  quarter  for  hours,  by  rail  and  wheel,  and 
foot,  under  the  drooping  Bkies.  We  went  in  loving  memory  of 
hie  departed  sons,  and  of  his  manifold  association  with  our  own 
departed  days.  We  represented,  too,  with  others,  his  native 
West.  Pleyel's  Hymn  ami  other  familiar  airs  were  played  on 
the  organ  in  sweet,  low,  nuittled  strains.  "Our  Father,  who 
art  in  Heaven"  was  chanted.  Prof.  Fisher  invoked  the  bless- 
ing   of    God,    and    read    admirably    selected    Scriptures.      The 

anthem  followed,  "Sleep  thy  last  Sleep.*'  Prof.  Dwight,  who 
when  only  nine  years  old,  was  almost  a  member  of  Dr.  Bacon's 
family,  and  had  known  him  well  for  forty-four  years,  was  the 
fitting  one  to  make  the  address.  He  described  his  varied  and 
extraordinary  powers,  not  in  a  formal  eulogy,  but  with  line  and 
tender  discrimination.  His  words  often  quivered  with  emo- 
tion, especially  when  he  spoke  of  this  "son  of  thunder"  in  his 
zeal  for  truth,  liberty,  righteousness,  his  fondness  tor  contro- 
versy yet  freedom  from  personal  bitterness,  his  patriotism,  his 
prayers  and  hymns,  his  faith  in  young  men,  his  unruffled  har- 
mony with  his  two  colleagues  in  the  ministry,  and  his  colleagues 
in  the  I  )i\  inity  School  ;  how  much  he  did  for  New  I  la\  en  ;  how 
after  all  his  conflicts  he  died  without  an  enemy  ;  how  his  buoy- 
ant and  unwearied  spirit,  still  full  of  work,  must  have  exulted 
in  his  new  experience  of  the  sunlight  of  heaven  :  how  death  and 
judgment  must  have  been  comprehended  in  the  father's  wel- 
come to  the  many  mansions,  and  the  holy  greetings  there  with 
kindred  bouIs,  with  Hooker,  Davenport,  Pierpont,  Brewster, 
with  brethren  in  the  church  and  the  ministry,  with  the  saints, 
heroes  and  martyrs  of  all  ages,  and  with  members  of  his  own 
family  within  the  thin  bul  Impenetrable  veil  we  were  lost  in 
the  heavenly  vision.  Prof.  Dwighl  never  discharged  a  difficult 
and  delicate  duty  with  such  a  delightful   blending  of  propriety 

and   pathos. 

After  prayer  with  lew.  Dr.  Hawes,  of  the  North  Church, 
the  service  closed  with  singing  Dr.  Bacon's  beautiful  hymn, 
"Hail,  tranquil   hour  of  closing  day."     His  dx  sons  deposited 

hi-  body  in  the  well  known  cemetery  where  sleep  BO  man\  dis 
tinguished  men  who  have  taken  New  Haven  on  their  wa\  to 
he;i\  en. 


[FROM    THE  SPRINGFIELD  REPUBLICAN. 


LEONARD    BACON. 


In  the  death  of  thai  typical  New  Englander,  Leonard 
Bacon,  a  notable  figure  passes  from  the  stage  of  public  affairs. 
Entering  the  sophomore  class  of  Fale  ( iollegeal  the  age  of  L5,  in 
the  year  1M7,  returning  to  New  Eaven  after  his  theological 
course  al  A.ndover  to  become  Pastor  of  the<  tenter  Church  at  the 
age  of  23,  continuing  as  active  Pastor  for  41  years,  and  as  Pastor 
emeritus  and  Vale  professor  for  nearly  16  years  more,  New 
Haven  could  not  so  much  miss  any  other  of  her  citizens,  unless 
it  be  his  surviving  classmate,  Theodore  D.  Woolsey.  Far  be- 
yond his  New  Eaveu  life,  so  closely  interwoven  with  every 
valuable  interesl  of  that  city  and  its  university,  he  was  dis- 
tinguished as  one  of  the  foremost  citizens  of  C tecticut  and 

of  the  nation.  Moreover,  in  his  prirhe  hie  influence  went 
abroad  to  many  lands,  striking  so  hard  at  the  Vatican  that 
Pope  Gregory  X  V  I  fell  moved  to  issue  a  bull  against  one  of 
his  forcible  productions,  at  the  same  time  consigning  it  to  the 
Index  Expurgatorius.  Ee  was  a  many-sided  man  in  the  besl 
sense,  vigorous  and  versatile,  of  a  restless  energy,  affluent  in 
speech,  especially  when  roused  by  any  exigency  or  opposition, 
ready  in  debate,  keen  and  witty  at  repartee,  a  hard  striker  in 
polemics,  a  lover  of  history  and  specially  well  versed  in  Con- 
necticut and  Congregational  lore.  lie  was  more  fond  of 
Bpeech-making  than  of  sermonizing,  and  better  skilled  in  the 

former    than     ill    the     latter.       lie    wa-    a  good   talker,   bul   Hot  so 


LEONARD    BACON.  251 

good  a  listener.  Bis  writing  was  ready,  keen  and  influential, 
and  hi>  literary  productivity  was  great.  <  >n  no  point  of  re- 
ligions or  political  interesl  did  he  tail  to  express  himself,  in 
pamphlet,  or  generally  in  contributions  to  magazines  and  news- 
papers, for  he  had  a  predilection  for  journalism,  and  indeed 
was  the  founder  of  the  New  Englcmder,  a  very  characteristic 
periodical  still  in  thrifty  condition.  Dr.  Bacon  had  the  qual- 
ities of  a  statesman,  and  was  only  hindered  from  being  active 
and  distinguished  in  that  line  by  his  professional  limitations. 
IK'  was  a  molding  power  over  many  beneficent  institutions. 
The  American  Board  <>('  Foreign  Missions  and  kindred  societies 
soughl  hi-  counsel.  YaleCollege  in  ad  its  departments  felt  his 
plastic  force  for  half  a  century,  from  the  pulpit  and  the  pro- 
fessor's chair,  in  the  corporation,  through  his  ready  and  produc- 
tive pen,  and  n«>r  the  least  in  hi-  personal  and  commanding 
presence.  He  was  an  acknowledged  power  in  Congregational 
councils,  having  presided  over  the  two  most  famous  in  recent 
time-  at  Brooklyn,  with  Henry  Ward  Beecher  and  Plymouth 
Church  for  their  casus  belli, — each  a  neutralizing  force. 
Whether  or  not  Dr.  Bacon  was  quite  willing  to  have  it  so. 
whether  he  was  anxious  to  have  the  truth  appear  or  content 
with  the  Issue  of  disagreement,  remain  open  questions  as  much 
a-  his  inward  convictions  concerning  the  main  point  of  Mi'. 
Beecher'a  guilt  or  innocence  which  lav  at  the  bottom  of  the 
ecclesiastical  proceedings. 

Diplomatic  in  hifi  nature,  he  was  never  hindered  by  ;m\ 
pride  <»f  consistency  from  changing  his  opinion.  He  was  al 
first  conservative  on  the  slavery  question,  but  afterward,  and 
not   to.,  late,    progressive,  and    powerfully  so.     [inpulsive  and 

e  essive  though  his  temperament  was,  he  had  a  singular 
mental  mastery  that  poised  the  coldest  reasoning  with  the 
wannest  feeling,  ami  often  made  hi-  attitude  perplexing  and 
hi-  opinion  proA  okingly  doubleredged. 

Leonard  Bacon  ha-  largely  transmitted  of  his  best  qualities 
to  his  children,  diffusing  them  much  a-  Lyman  Beecher's  were 
among  hi-  notable  family.  Si\  sons  and  two  grandsons  are 
recorded  in  the  triennial  catalogues  ot  Vale,  and  several  of 
these  have  taken  leading  positions  in  the  ministry  and  other 
professions;  perhape  Leonard  Woolse>  Bacon,  minister  of  Nor- 


NEON  \  i:i>    BACON. 


wich,  is  the  most  prominenl  and  temperamentally  the  mosl  like 
him.  His  daughter,  Rebecca,  was  an  ardent  philanthropist, 
and  devoted  sonic  of  her  besl  years  to  the  education  of  the 
freedmen. 

Dr.  Bacon's  personal  mien  and  port  were  strikingly  expres- 
sive of  Iris  inner  man.  Slighl  bul  agile,  a  little  stooping,  his 
massive  head  well  se1  upon  shoulders  proportionately  broad;  a 
noble,  projecting  brow,  keen,  searching  eyes  oi    bluish  gray, 

but    kindling    in    his    best  m Is  into  a  fiery  luster,  his  lips 

oftener  compressed  with  firmness  than  mobile  with  gentleness, 
the  bushy  masses  of  gray  hair  giving  a  leonine  setting  to  his 
thoughtful  and  eager  face;  always  the  dress-coal  and  white 
ueck-cloth,  inseparable  from  his  clerically  neat  but  never  stiff 
apparel  :  there  was  in  his  tout  ensemble  the  bearing  of  agentle- 
man,  the  self-possession  of  a  native  leader,  the  alertness  of  one 
always  ready  for  his  opportunity,  and  the  cultured   presence 

that  marks  the  man  both  of   letters  and  affairs. 

II,.  had  the  "Abraham  Davenport"  loyalty  to  present  duty 
and  his  daily  task,  which  would  not  have  faltered  though  the 
last  trump  had  begun  to  sound.  Full  well  he  knew  that  his 
days  were  [lumbered,  and  that  the  end  was  nigh.  Many  a 
time  had  he  heard  the  footfall  of  the  messenger  at  the  door, 
when    his    heart  heat  with  the    keen  distress  of  angina  pectoris, 

and    sometimes   as    he  sat   in   his   professorial  chair.      But  he 

.-till  went  to  and  fro  about  his  work,  calmly  and  steadily  to  the 
last,  in  the  sweet  and  full  assurance  of  his  Christian  faith  and 
his  strong  and  manly  nature.  He  had  lectured  twice  during 
the  week  he  died,  and  left  upon  his  study  table  an  unfinished 
work  of  the  previous  day,— a  paper  relating  to  the  Mormon 
question. 

He  wa-  the  normal  growth  of  the  verv  best  New  England 
training,  sturdily  Puritan,  and  vet  not  narrowed  by  his  marked 
proclivities  into  a  provincial  thinker,  nor  embittered  by  his 
many  controversies  toward  any  of  hie  opponents.  As  a  Con- 
gregationalist,  in  all  matter-  of  form,  polity,  and  executive 
development,  he  was  broad  and  flexible,  always  keeping  the 
future  open.  None  knew  better  than  he  " the  former  days," 
:il|(|  Qone  more  strenuously  denied  their  claim  to  he  hotter 
than   these,     old   measures  that  had  outlived  their  usefulness 


LEONARD    BACON.  -•'"> 

lie  tossed  aside.  Precedents,  like  councils,  in  his  view  had  n<. 
mere  authority  than  proceeds  from  the  reason  that  is  in  them. 
Like  the  war  horse  described  by  Job,  he  smelt  the  battle  afar 
off,  and  whenever  in  any  worthy  cause  there  was  a  good 
•  •hance  for  a  tree  fight,  waited  not  for  an  invitation  to  be 
••  counted  in.**  Always  a  man  to  listen  to,  he  was  never  a 
man  to  "tie  to"  without  reconsideration.  Vet  never  a  tire 
that  he  helped  to  kindle,  hut  enough  light  proceeded  from  it 
t<»  warrant  the  conflagration.  There  are  hut  few  such  men  for 
human  welfare  in  any  century  as  Leonard  Bacon,  and  there- 
fore it  becomes  our  privilege  to  give  due  honor  to  his  venera- 
ble name. 


i- 


FROM   THE  NEW  //.I  VEN  REGISTER. 


ABOUT    LEONARD    BACON. 


One  of  the  few  surviving  classmates  of  Rev.  Dr.  Bacon  says 
he  was  an  excellent  scholar  while  in  college,  but  that  he  did  not 
give  the  promise  of  the  high  position  he  afterward  attained. 
Such  a  man  as  ex-President  Woolsey  rose  way  above  him  in 
intellect.  The  appointment  secured  by  Dr.  Bacon,  was  a  dis- 
pute. He  made  no  special  effort  in  the  way  of  English  com- 
position, nor  did  he  indulge  much  in  field  sport,  although  he 
always  managed  to  maintain  a  healthy  physical  organization. 
He  was  always  a  Christian.  His  object  in  going  t<>  college 
was  to  fit  himself  for  the  ministry.  Constantly  in  his  mind 
was  the  image  of  his  mother,  then  still  living,  but  revered  as 
though  a  saint  in  heaven.  One  of  the  earliest  recollections 
concerning  him  is  the  wonderful  manner  in  which  he  extem- 
porized in  prayer.  Tins  was  as  marked  a  characteristic  as  in 
after  life.      I  ne  goodness  and  tenderness  <>f  his  petitions  sank 

deeply  into  the  heart-  of  his  hearers.      The  employment  of    wit 

and  sarcasm  was  first  noticeable  in  his  speech  when  a  collegian, 

but  there  was  QO    evil    in    them.       lie    used    these    elements    of 

power  afterward  very  effectually  in  his  colonization  and  anti- 
Blavery  speeches.  Immediately  alter  his  graduation  here  lie 
went  to  Ajadover  to  pursue  a  theological  training.  There  lie 
stood  the  highest  among  the  students  and  first  brought  himself 


LEONARD    BACOX. 


into  notice.  When  in  his  second  or  third  year  he  startled  the 
seminary  by  reading  a  paper  upon  the  scheme  of  colonization. 
Then  was  manifested  for  the  first  time  his  great  power  over 
men.  An  eye-witness  saysit  swept  over  the  audience  like  the 
wind  over  the  ocean.  The  result  Mas  that  lie  and  another 
young  man  were  sent  as  delegates  to  the  American  Colonization 
Society. 

The  colonization  scheme  was  not  to  till  the  border  State.-  with 
immigrants,  but  to  Bend  the  free  colored  people  to  Africa  and 
there  found  a  republic.  In  this  way  philanthropists  thought  to 
remove  them  from  the  prejudices  of  the  southern  whites  and 
tend  toward  the  extinction  of  slavery.  A  large  number  of 
colored  men  were  sent  away,  and  the  republic  of  Liberia,  which 
i-  -rill  in  existence,  was  founded.  To  this  end  Dr.  Bacon's 
agitation,  begun  at  Ajidover,  ami  continued  through  many 
pears,  contributed  not  a  little.  It  was  in  this  way  that  he  began 
his  anti-slavery  proceedings.  He  did  not  agree  with  Garrison'B 
methods.      Anti-slavery  was  that    reformer's  war  cry.  no  matter 

what  the  consequences.  If  anything  could  be  said  against 
slavery,  truthful  or  not,  the  Garrisonites  accepted  it.  To  this 
Dr.  Bacon  objected.  It  was  -aid  by  Garrison  that  the  southern 
whites  favored  colonization  because  they  wished  to  weed  out 
the  i'vi-t-  colored  people  from  contact  with  their  slave  institu- 
tion-. Because  of  this  southern  favor  he  opposed  it  bitterly, 
and  urged  that  it  was  not  by  any  means  a  philanthropic  idea 
on  the  part  of   it>  northern  BUpporters,  l»ut    rather   an    insidious 

movement  againsl  slavery.  Despite  Garrison,  however,  it 
flourished.  In  hi-  anti-slavery  discussions  Dr.  Bacon  used  his 
wit  and  sarcasm  quite  effectively.  ''We  all  have  prejudices," 
he  Baid,  "  some  are  prejudiced  againsl  a  black  -kin.  some  againsl 

a    black    coat."      There    i-   Q0    doubl    that    hi>    essays    had  ureal 

influence  on  President  Lincoln.     "They  could  not  help  having 

that,"  -aid  a  .-la-mate  la-t  night.  "Thai  nm-t  he  the  case  with 
any  one  who  read-  them." 

It  was  a  cardinal   principle  with  the  ( 'enter  church  to  selecl 

tor  their   Pastor  a  young  man   who  had    never   heeii  settled  an\ 

where.  They  chose  from  among  the  men  >>\  promise.  Moses 
Stuart  was  obtained  in  this  way,  and  the  wise  judgment  of  the 
church  people  was  proved  ly  hi-  rapid  growth   a-  an  eloquent 


•_'.",i ;  u:o\  \i;i>    BACON. 

man  of  God  and  pillar  of  the  church.  Amlover,  with  bereye 
0D6B  i«>  ill*'  main  chance,  ami  with  a  sufficiency  of  t'un<Js,  called 
him  away.  Dr.  Taylor  was  then  Belected,  ami  again  the  wis- 
dom of  the  selection  was  shown.  He  went  to  Yale.  Then,  as 
hi-  successor — whal  bold  young  man  could  consider  the  situa- 
tion without  trembling? — the  church  fixed  upon  Leonard  Ba- 
con, aged  23,  hardly  a  year  from  the  seminary.  He  preached 
some  weeks  as  a  candidate.  <  >neof  his  sermons  attracted  greal 
attention.  It  had  for  its  subject,  "  The  Government  of  God," 
and  was' based  on  the  text,"Thy  commandment  is  exceeding 
broad."  This  was  the  beginning  of  his  great  hold  upon  the 
(  Vnter  church. 

During  the  decade  ending  with  L840  there  was  a  Ion-:' and 
acrimonious  controversy  between  Dr.  Taylor  of  the  New 
Haven  school  of  theologians  and  Dr.  Tyler  of  the  old  school. 
It  had  been  in  progress  some  time  when  Dr.  Bacon  entered 
the  lists.  "  lie  was  not  a  controversialist,"  said  a  classmate  last 
evening,  "but  rather  a  queller  of  controversies.  His  action  in 
the  Taylor-Tyler  controversy  will  explain  what  I  mean.  He 
was  a  sturdy  defender  of  his  principles,  having  greal  moral 
courage.  No  other  kind  of  courage  was  called  into  play  hut 
he  had  it."  The  doctor  had  been  in  the  habit  of  publishing 
pamphlets  upon  live  questions.  He  called  them  "  Views  and 
Reviews."  In  one  he  poured  oil  on  the  troubled  waters  of  the 
Taylor  dispute  by  pointing  out  that  the  schools  agreed  on  twen- 
ty-six points.  As  these  more  than  covered  the  essential  facts  of 
the  Christian  religion  he  thought  fighting  oughl  tocease.  This 
article  was  so  successful  thai  oothing  more  was  heard  from 
either  side,  [n  assemblies  and  consociations  he  would  always 
endeavor  to  reconcile  differences.  Even  as  a  presiding  officer 
of  ecclesiastical  council.-  his  tact  as  a  peace-maker  was  used  to 
great  advantage.  Once  it  was  proposed  to  call  a  Methodist 
clergyman  to  a  Congregational  pulpit,  and  a  council  was  held, 
at  which  some  brother  raised  a  question  aboui  a  Methodist 
being  objectionable.  "Oh,  no,"  said  the  doctor,  who  was  the 
moderator,  "  it  will  make  no  difference,  but  I  think  there  will 
be  considerable  trouble  before  he  is  settled.'" 

He  was  one  of    the  signers  Of   a    memorial    to     President     I'.n- 

chanan    in    reference   to  the   Kansas  troubles.     This  evoked  a 


LEONARD    BACON. 


replv  at  the  President's  own  hand— the  second  instance  of 
where  the  executive  condescended  to  reply  to  a  memorial  of 
private  citizens.  The  first  was  Jefferson's  reply.  This  was 
also  to  a  memorial  from  citizens  of  New  Haven.  Both  these 
letters  are  carefully  treasured  here.  While  paying  much  atten- 
tion to  live  topics  and  church  history  and  writings  he  was  also 
a  lover  and  a  student  of  general  literature.  Among  his  earliest 
and  favorite  novels  were  those  of  Walter  Scott.  lie.  Presi- 
dent Woolseyand  Prof essor  Twining,  were  members  of  a  lite- 
rary club  at  college  to  which  original  contributions  were  made. 
These  contributions,  in  a  hand  writing  now  famous,  are  still 
zealously  guarded.  They  comprise  verse  as  well  as  prose  and 
-how  that  \)v.  Bacon  possessed  the  rhyming  faculty,  as  well  as 
the  art  of  writing  didactic  prose. 


FROM    THE  BOSTON   ADVERTISER, 


TWO  LEADERS  IX  TWO  ENGLANDS. 


Oul  of  the  many  leaders  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  who 
have  passed  away  during  the  last  six  months  there  are  two  who 
had  much  in  common,-  -Leonard  Bacon  and  Arthur  Stanley. 
In  many  things  they  were  wide  apart  and  manifestly  unlike. 
The  one  was  ;i  representative  Puritan:  the  other  the  broadest 
of  churchmen.  The  one  had  the  gifts  of  an  ecclesiastical  leader, 
and  was  never  more  himself  than  when  antagonizing  an  un- 
righteous cause;  the  leadership  of  the  other  grew  chiefly  out  of 
his  literary  studies  and  ecclesiastical  principles.  The  one  had 
been  bred  in  the  tradition.-  of  New  England  Puritanism,  and 
was  to  the  manner  born;  the  other  had  grown  up  in  the  best 
id'  English  homes,  ami  had  been  under  the  direction  of  one  of 
the  mosl  Btimulating  minds  in  England.  Each  had  lived  into 
what  was  most  characteristic  of  the  nationality  under  which  he 
-icw  ii]).  The  one  wa>  a  son  of  thunder,  and  like  Webster, 
never  knew  an  occasion  which  was  too  greal  tor  him.  The 
other  had  no  les>  the  courage  of  his  convictions,  and  dared  to 
go  again  si  the  whole  bench  id'  bishops  when  he  had  a  cause  to 
maintain.  Each  had  developed  under  the  shadow  of  a  greal 
literary  institution  and  imbibed  it-  spirit,  the  one  a1  Yale  and 
the  other  at  Oxford;  and  each  had  that  mastery  of  vigorous 
English   l>\    which   he  could    impress    his  glowing  conceptions 


LEONARD    BACON.  259 

upon  the  mind-  of  his  fellow-men.  Their  spheres  of  tabor  were 
decidedly  unlike.  The  one  led  the  hosts  of  the  <  longregational 
churches  in  New  England  a>  Joshua  led  the  hosts  of  [srael  to 
the  promised  land;  the  other  simply  developed  a  school  of 
thought  in  the  most  inclusive  national  church  of  modern  times. 
The  American  had  the  more  native  rigor,  and  could  take  hold 
of  things  with  a  stronger  grasp ;  the  other  had  the  larger  vision, 
the  wider  sympathy.  These  were  essentially  their  points  of 
difference. 

In  other  respects  they  were  closely  allied.  They  had  the 
same  historical  instincts,  the  same  relish  for  ultimate  facts. 
They  had  the  same  conviction  that  religion  and  politics  are 
indi.--olul.lv  united  in  a  nation's  growth.  They  had  the  same 
idea  of  the  breadth  of  the  modern  pulpit.  Dr.  Bacon  in  the 
Last  ten  years  of  his  life  grew  generous  and  sympathetic  even 
toward  those  against  whom  he  had  waged  battle  in  other  days, 
reaching  up  to  that  breadth  and  range  of  sympathy  which 
Minister  Lowell  -poke  of  the  other  day  in  England,  as  the  most 
pronounced  feature  in  the  life  of  the  late  Westminster  dean. 
The  two  men  had  no  patience  with  a  ( 'hri-tianitv  which  is  shut 
up  from  the  freest  contact  with  present  lite.  They  both  be- 
lieved in  the  largest  freedom  of  discussion,  and  in  the  use  of 
the  press  a-  the  besl  vehicle  for  formulating  opinion.  What 
Dr.  Bacon  did  through  the  New  Englcmder,  which  he  was 
mainly  instrumental  in  founding  in  1843,  and  late  on  through 
the  editorial  columns  of  77><  Independent,  Arthur  Stanley  did 
from  L860  and  onward  to  the  end  of  hi-  life,  in  the  Edinburgh 
J,'.  ,-',,  ,/•  ;ind  through  the  columns  of  the  L<>, ,</<>/,  Times.  Each 
in  hi-  appropriate  place  was  the  mouthpiece  of  the  thought 
which  at  the  momenl  most  needed  to  bespoken.  Dr.  Bacon 
has  represented  the  Puritan  mind  of  New  England  in  the 
general  religious  spirit  of  the  century,  as  Prof.  Park  has  shaped 
it-  changing  dogmatic  convictions.  Both  men  had  the  wonder- 
ful capacity  of  growing  in  their  mental  force,  iii  their  percep- 
tion of  the  needs  of  the  time,  in  a  quick  insight  into  larger  and 
\'\-ffv  condition-  of  living,  and  carried  the  inspiring  sunshine  "I 
their  ripening  beliefs  inn.  the  numerous  circle-  in  which  thej 
moved.     Both  men.  it'  liberal  each  in  hi-  own  way,   had   thai 

free  -pirit  of    liberty    which   live-  on  the  strength  of    the   pa-t    iii 


■■>■<<  i.i  -,i  >\  \  i:i»    r.  li  ■<  »N. 

the  larger  life  of  to-day.  No  man  in  Ajnerica  ever  broughl 
•  1 11  i 1 1-  the  same  distincl  personality  int<>  the  pulpit  which  Leon- 
ard Bacon  brought.  To  hear  him  speak  on  a  greal  occasion 
was  like  listening  to  the  roar  of  the  Atlantic  when  driven  upon 
the  coasl  h\  a  northeaster;  he  swept  everything  before  him. 
A  rthur  Stanley,  defending  Bishop  Colenso  against  the  censure 
of  the  Canterbury  convocation,  or  standing  by  Mr.  Voysey, 
with  whom  he  never  agreed,  simply  because  he  believed  in  the 
great  principle  of  freedom  of  opinion  where  men  honestly  dif- 
fered, is  a  figure  thai  will  live  forever  in  English  religious 
history. 

These  men  differed  \er\  widely;  perhaps  they  never  met; 
but  at  heart  they  had  the  same  spirit,  and  their  university  train- 
ing turned  their  minds  Into  the  same  distinctive  channels.  Dr. 
Bacon  will  stand  forth  in  the  religious  history  of  this  century 
as  the  most  pronounced  ecclesiastical  leader  in  New  England, 
holder  than  Channing,  as  positive  as  Parker.  Dean  Stanley 
will  be  remembered  as  the  comprehensive  churchman  who  saw 
in  different  men  chiefly  those  things  in  which  they  were  agreed, 
and  who  taught  his  generation  to  draw  nearer  together  in  the 
spirit  of  Christian  unity.  The  life-work  of  the  two  men,  in  its 
general  direction,  was  the  same;  the  means  used  to  accomplish 
it,  with  points  of  greal  nnlikeness,  had  also  many  points  of 
agreement.  The  one  should  be  as  distinctly  remembered  as 
the  other.  The  Stanley  memorial  in  Westminster  A.bbey  will 
be  the  expression  of  the  feelings  of  those  whose  hearts  Arthur 
Stanley  touched  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic.  It  is  to  he 
hoped  thai  Leonard  Bacon's  greal  services  in  maintaining  a 
national  position  for  the  foremost  principles  of  Christianity,  a 
service  which  at  critical  period-  went  far  beyond  the  limitations 
of  sect,  may  he  recognized  in  some  emphatic,  historical  form  in 
the  university  of  which  he  was  a  part,  and  in  the  large  com- 
munity to  which  he  was  a  burning  and  a  shining  light  for  sixtj 
years. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA   AT  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 

££B  19  1947 


W  Z  7  1962 


Form  L-9— 15m-7,'35 


BX 

7260     New   Haven 
BUT? — FTrsT'cT^ 

Leonard  Bacon_ 


7U0 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    000  737  298    0