84. AAA84 SAMUEL WILLARD Biography, V. President, Harvard.

THE

CONDUCTED BY

B. B. EDWARDS AND W. COGSWELL.

BOSTON:

PRINTED BY PERKINS & MARVIN.

1838.

The text of this and other superb works are available on-line from:

The Willison Politics and Philosophy Resource Center

http://willisoncenter.com/

Reprint and digital file December 15, 2000.

This document was scanned from an original copy of the American Education Society’s Quarterly Register, which served as a digest of the diverse facets in American Education and its outflowing effects worldwide. The society was comprised of leading Harvard, Yale, Dartmouth and Princeton Alumni, and served to promote the work both in the U.S. and abroad for educating the people in the Reformation’s worldview of the Bible serving as the only infallible rule of life, which, of course, was the purpose for which these schools were founded.

PREFACE TO VOLUME X.

THERE are various associations in this country which have for their principal object to promote the study of the antiquities of the United States; to collect, embody and diffuse information on a great variety of important subjects. Among the foremost of these are the Historical Societies which have been formed in a number of States, and some of which enjoy a Vigorous existence, and are producing the happiest results. The American Antiquarian Society at Worcester are enlarging their sphere of operations, and augmenting the precious relics of former times. The State of Massachusetts, under the auspices of the present enlightened governor, are doing much to rescue the records of the past from neglect and decay. The Rev. Joseph B. Felt, a learned antiquary, who has been compelled by infirmity to desist from his ministerial functions, has been for many months employed upon the time-worn documents in the State house. A large number of ponderous folios, with papers well classified and arranged, and substantially bound, attest his industry and good judgment. The labors of the Secretary of State, John P. Bigelow, Esq., are particularly valuable, both as it respects the direct results of his own investigations, and the urbane manner in which he assists other inquirers. In the mean time the government of the United States are not idle, though much less has been accomplished than is desirable. An elaborate memorial on the subject of statistics was presented to the Senate of the United States some months since, by professor Lieber of the College of South Carolina. We do not learn that there has yet been any action on the memorial. The Hon. Henry L. Ellsworth, commissioner of patents, has presented to Congress some valuable papers. Various committees of both houses have occasionally done themselves the honor of elucidating important subjects of general statistical interest. In the same field there are a few individuals scattered over the country, whose solitary and unaided toils are worthy of all praise and encouragement.

In our humble way, we propose, in the pages of the American Quarterly Register, to aid this great Cause. Something has been already accomplished; but more inviting fields lie before us, into which we have hardly entered.

Many things in relation to the United States yet remain unattempted or incomplete. We hope, in the next volume, to enrich our pages with an alphabetical catalogue of all the college graduates out of New England. Important medical and legal statistics are in a course of preparation. Greater and greater accuracy and fullness will be attained in our ecclesiastical researches. The investigation of one branch frequently throws unexpected light on another, or suggests new topics of inquiry. We have recently received from our correspondents in Great Britain important reports and documents concerning the various seminaries of the Dissenters—as well as the ancient universities. We shall make use of some of these papers in our next volume. Elaborate papers relating to most of the continental nations will be supplied by the Rev. Robert Baird. The religious and educational statistics of some of these nations are but little known even in Europe.

In the mean time we shall not forget one great object of this publication—the promotion of ministerial education—the raising up, with the blessing of Heaven, a numerous, learned and holy ministry, until all the waste places of the earth shall become like the garden of the Lord.

BOSTON, April 30, 1838.

VOL. X. AUGUST, 1837. No. 1.

MEMOIR OF REV. ELEAZAR WHEELOCK, D. D.

FOUNDER AND FIRST PRESIDENT OF DARTMOUTH COLLEGE.

By William Allen, D. D., President of Bowdoin College.

AMONG the men, who for their worthy deeds and eminent services in the cause of science and religion, deserve to be held in honorable remembrance, the subject of this memoir is doubtless to be ranked. Indeed he has the peculiar distinction of having established and conducted the first Mlissionary School in this country, and of having founded the first College, which was created by the efforts of an individual. This distinction God has given him, although he sought not honor from man.

DR. ELEAZAR WHEELOCK was born in Windham, Connecticut, in May, 1711. His earliest ancestor, of whom any account has been obtained, was his great grandfather, Rev. Ralph Wheelock, who was born in Shropshire, in 1600, and educated at Clare Hall, in Cambridge. Being an eminent non-conformist preacher, and suffering persecution for dissenting from the established re1igion, he came to New England for liberty of conscience in 1637, and settled in Dedham, Massachusetts, where he was one of the founders of the first church in 1638. Thence he removed to Medfield, where he was one of the principal land-owners. Of this town he was a representative for several years; he also occasionally preached in Medfield and the adjoining new settlements, but declined taking the charge of any particular church. He died universally respected in November, 1683, aged 83 years.

Dr. Wheelock’s grandfather, Captain Eleazar Wheelock, born in 1654, removed from Medfield to Mendon. He was a soldier, as well as a Christian. In the Indian wars he commanded successfully a company of cavalry. His house, converted into a garrison, was sometimes besieged. In peace he was familiar with the savages, often joining them in their hunting expeditions, arid treated them with great kindness. He died March 24, 1731, aged 77 years.

The father of Dr. Wheelock was deacon Ralph Wheelock, born in 1683, who settled in Windham, where he lived a farmer, and died Oct. 15, 1748, aged 66 years. His mother was Ruth Huntington, the daughter of Christopher Huntington of Norwich. He was an only son. Of his

five sisters one married the Rev. Dr. Pomeroy of Hebron his half-sister Mary, whose mother was Mercy Standish of Preston, married Jabez Bingham

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 10

ham of Salisbury, and was the grandmother of the Rev. Dr. Kirkland, president of Harvard University.

At the age of 16 or 17 his heart was renewed by the Spirit of God. His grandfather, whose name he bore, having left him a legacy to defray the expenses of his education, he was sent to Yale college in which seminary he was distinguished for his good conduct and proficiency in learning. The first premium, instituted by dean Berkley, to be awarded to the best classical scholars of the senior class, was given to him and Mr. Pomeroy, afterwards his brother-in-law.* He graduated in 1733, and in March, 1735, was ordained as the minister of the Second or North society in Lebanon, called Lebanon Crank, now the town of Columbia, where he toiled as a faithful laborer in the vineyard of his Lord about 35 years.

In 1735, soon after his settlement, by his faithful and earnest labors, great effects were produced among his people at Lebanon. It pleased God to send down his Spirit to bring the gospel to the hearts of sinners; and the same work of divine mercy and love was accomplished, which, about the same time, was experienced at Northampton under the ministry of Jonathan Edwards, and in other towns of Hampshire county, Massachusetts, as well as at Coventry, Durham, Mansfield, East Windsor, Tolland, Bolton, Hebron, Norwich, Groton, and other towns in Connecticut. In some of these towns there was an impression of deep seriousness made upon the minds of almost all the people, and in some places it was supposed that as many as twenty or thirty persons were converted in one week. In 1740, and in subsequent years, in consequence of the labors of Mr. Whitefield and others, this revival of religion became more general.

Mr. Wheelock was at this period incessant in his labors to promote the salvation of his fellow-men. Of his character as a preacher, it may be interesting to read the account, given by Dr. Trumbull, who was personally acquainted with him.-—-" The most zealous and laborious in the cause, who took the most pains and spent the most property in the service of their Master, were the Rev. Messrs. Jedediah Mills, Benjamin Potneroy, Eleazar Wheelock, and Joseph Bellamy. They were not only abundant in labors among their own people, and in neighboring towns and societies, but they preached in all parts of the colony, where their brethren would admit them, and in many places in Massachusetts, and the other colonies."

Mr., afterwards Doctor and President, Wheelock was a gentleman of a comely figure, of a mild and winning aspect; his voice smooth arid harmonious, the best, by far, that I ever heard. He had the entire command of it. His gesture was natural, but not redundant. His preaching

[ *Footnote: In the catalogue of Yale College, the name of Eleazar Wheelock is not placed alphabetically, but stands a little below the middle of the class It seems, that the names from 1702 to 1767, of the graduates are placed according to the supposed rank of their parents. Thus, is the class of 1733, the name of S. Talcott stands first, probably because be was the son of the govenor Talcott. Dividing each class, thus arranged, into two equal parts, and instituting a comparison between these parts, some ccurious facts are deduced. In the upper half the number of ministers is 168; in the lower half 270.In the Harvard College catalog, arranged in the same way from 1642 to 1772, the ministers in the upper half are 321; and in the lower 586. Is this disproportion to be accounted for from the consideration, that young men of families in moderate circumstances, are freed from many evil allurements, which assail the sons of the more rich and honorable?

In the comparison as to the attainment by laymen of worldly honors, judging by the capital letters in the catalogue, the proportion is the other way. The proportion is about 50 to the upper half and 20 to the lower; and the same is the Cambridge catalogue. The sons of the rich, and influential gain the honors of this world: the poor are more likely to take the kingdom of heaven.

In the lower half, however, besides the name of Dr. Wheelock and the names of presidents Dickinson, Johnson, and Daggett, and of Rev. Drs. Caner, Goodrich, Trumbull, Dana, and Emmons, —and in the lower half also, in the Cambridge cataloge, the names of presidents Hoar, Wadsworth, Langdon, and Rogers, and rectors Pierson and Williams, and Rev. Drs. Hitchcock, Shute, Forbes, Hemmenway, Howard, Deane, Cummings, Belknap, and Osgood

Of laymen, we find in the lower half of the Cambridge catalogue the names of Gov. Trumbull, Chief-Justice Pratt, (the last in his class,) John Adams, president of the United States, and governors Gerry, Strong, and Eustis. ]

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 11

and addresses were close and pungent, and yet winning, beyond almost all comparison, so that his audience would be incited even into tears, before they were aware of it."

This is high commendation of Mr. Wheelock’s eloquence, coming from one, who speaks of Whitefield, Tennent, and Bellamy, whom probably he had often heard and who thus represents Mr. Wheelock’s voice as the best, by far, he had ever heard, and his manner of preaching the most winning beyond almost all comparison.

So interesting and acceptable was the preaching of Mr. Wheelock, and so fervent was his zeal, that in one year " be preached a hundred more sermons than there are days in the year." The following letter will show the estimation in which he was held, at the age of twenty-nine, by Jonathan Edwards, who was eight or ten years older. It is dated Northampton, Oct. 9, 1740.—"Rev, and dear Sir,—l congratulate you, and would bless God for the success, which he has lately given to your labors, which you mention, and for the many joyful things, we have lately heard concerning the city of our God. I think that those, that make mention of the Lord, should now be awakened and encouraged to call upon God, and not keep silence nor give him any rest, till he establish and till he make Jerusalem a praise in the earth ; and particularly should be earnest with God, that he would still uphold and succeed the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, the instrument that it has pleased him to improve to do such great things for the honor of his name, and at all times so to guide and direct him under his extraordinary circumstances, that Satan may not get any advantage of him.

I thank you for your concern for my aged father under his troubles, and the pains you have occasionally taken with some of his people on his behalf; and also for your kind wishes for me and for the success of my ministry. We need the prayers of all that are favored with God’s presence and the lively influences of his Spirit. It is a sorrowfully dull and dead time with us; The temporal affairs of this town are arid have been for some years most unhappily situated to be a snare to us, and I know not where to look for help but to God. 0, dear Sir ! earnestly pray for us. And I desire, that now, while God smiles upon you, and it is a day of his specialfavor towards you, that you would pray earnestly for me, that I may be filled with the divine Spirit, and that God would improve me, though utterly unworthy, as an instrument of glory to his name, and of good to the souls of men, and particularly, that he would bless Mr. Whitefield’s coming here for good to my soul, and the souls of my people. That God would more and more bless and succeed you, and make you more and more a burning and shining light, is the sincere desire and prayer of your unworthy brother and fellow-laborer,

"JONATHAN EDWARDS."

In another letter to Mr. Wheelock, dated June 9, 1741, Mr. Edwards requests him to go and preach at Scantic or East ‘Windsor, to his father’s society, of whom he says, "they are wholly dead in this extraordinary day of God’s gracious visitation." He then adds— " Another thing that I desire of you, is, that you would come up hither and help us, both you and Mr. Pomeroy. There has been a revival of religion amongst us of late ; but your labors have been much more remarkably blessed than mine; other ministers, as I have heard, have shut their pulpits against you ; but here, I engage, you shall find one open. May God send you here with a like blessing, as he has sent you to other places; and may your coming be a means of humbling me for my barrenness and unprofitableness, and a

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 12

means of my instruction and enlivening. I want an opportunity to concert measures with you for the advancement of the kingdom and glory of our Redeemer."

A short extract from a letter of Mr. Edwards’s father to Mr. Wheelock, dated Aug. 26, 1741will tend still further to illustrate Mr. Wheelock’s character and labors;-- Religion hath been very much revived and has greatly flourished among us, since you were here. I have propounded sixty—four persons to full communion, many of whom have been already taken in and with them, that I expect will be propounded the next Sabbath, with others, that have been with me, and some, that have not yet been with me, there are above seventy, that very lately, viz, in about five or six weeks time, have been savingly converted in this society, and still there is a great stir among us respecting mens eternal concerns. We have all great reason to bless God for your repeated labors of love of late as a minister of’ Christ here.

Your affectionate and obliged brother and servant in Jesus Christ,

These letters, addressed to a young minister, who had been but four or five years in the ministry ii stry ,by Mr. Edwards, the most profound of theologians, and the most pious and faithful of ministers, and by his aged and venerable lather, prove, that Mr. Wheelock was regarded by those who knew him, as very eminent for piety and for power as a preacher of the gospel, and show how greatly a sovereign God was pleased to bless his labors in unpromising fields.

In this time of religious excitement, and at a period, when in Connecticut the distinction between the church and the state was not well understood, it is not to be wondered at, that the itinerant preachers should have met with many rebuffs and much ill-treatment, especially as some fanatical preachers and lay-exhorters called Separatists, disturbed the peace of the churches. "This glorious work of God,’’ says Dr. Trumbull, "was most violently opposed byministers, by magistrates, by cruel and persecuting laws, by reproach and misrepresentation, and all other ways and means , which its adversaries could invent.’’ Mr. Finley, afterward president of New Jersey college, [ now Princeton University, Ed. ] for preaching as an itinerant in Connecticut, was carried, according to law, as a vagrant out of the colony. Mr. Davenport and Mr. Pomeroy were arrested and brought before the assembly of the legislature. The former was ordered to be "transported" to Long Island rid to the place whence he came and the latter was rudely treated, and afterwards was again before the assembly under an indictment saying, that " no colony was so bad as Connecticut for persecuting laws," and other similar offences.

The following extract, from a private journal of Mr. Wheelock, will illustrate in some degree the state of religion at that period, and his popularity as a preacher ; it is dated about a year after Mr. Whitfield’s first visit to New England, which was in September, 1740. He set out on a journey through Rhode Island to Boston, during which he preachedincessantly.

"Oct. 19, 1741, that God would give me courage, zeal, and skill to deal faithfully with my friends.

"Oct. 20. Preached at 10, with some enlargement [at a town near Plainfield]. Present, Rev. Messrs. Coit, Kirkand, Dorrance, Barker, Avery, Marsh, &c. The assembly large and considerably affected. Preached in the afternoon at Plainfield to a full assembly. A number cried out. Held a conference at night. Young Christians don’t rise, as

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 13

in some places. One converted. 0, when shall I learn to live always upon God and be thankful for all the least enlargement and assistance."

"Oct. 21. Had but little sleep. Arose before day. Rode with Mr. Coit and my friends to Voluntown. Courteously received and entertained by Mr. Dorrance. Went to meeting at 10. Heard Mr. Gideon Mills preach well. Preached after him. There is a great work in this town but more of the footsteps of Satan than in any place I have yet been in: the zeal of some too furious, they tell of many visions, revelations, and many strong impressions upon the imagination. They have had much of God in many of their meetings, and his great power has been much seen and many hopefully converted. Satan is using many artful wiles to put a stop to the work of God in this place. Good Lord, let him be confounded. Let his mischiefs fall upon his own head. At their conference at night I mentioned some of these devices of Satan, which I apprehend they are in danger of, and heard the accounts of a number of new converts.

"Oct. 22. Rose this morning refreshed. A pleasant day found my soul stretching after God. The Lord has this day in some measure fulfilled my early desires. Preached twice with enlargement, by Mr. Smith’s barn to great assemblies. Many cried out many stood trembling; the whole assembly very solemn, amid much affection ; four or five converted. One woman, who came from Kingston against a great deal of opposition on purpose to hear me, came out clear and invent away rejoicing in God, longing to have her husband and others taste and see with her.

Oct. 23. Rose at 3; somewhat indisposed. Dear Lord, I commit my body, my soul, my life, health, and all to thee. Use me as thou wilt, only let me glorify thee and seek that as my last end. Left Voluntown about 7, accompanied by a great number of wounded and comforted. Came to Mr. Cooper’s of Scituate in the county of Providence. Preached to a considerable assembly. I am always thronged with company, and want time to talk with the tenth part of those, who desire to converse with me. Dined, and rode with a great number of Voluntown people to Capt. Angel’s. Preached there. The old man and woman violently opposed ; called me antichrist, &c. Rode to elder Fish’s ; found him a bigoted, ignorant Baptist his wife soon shot her bolt and told us all what she was. She seemed to look upon baptism in their way as the only evidence to be relied upon of a safe estate. Came about 8 to Mr. Henry’s, seven miles front Providence.

"Oct. -24. Rose early, prayed and sang. Discoursed with some wounded ; afterwards exhorted a company, who came in. Sung a hymn, prayed, and rode with a great company of Voluntown people and others to Providence. About two miles from Providence met Mr. Knight and another man, who came out to meet us. His first salutation was ‘ God bless you, my dear brother.’ Went to his house. Rev. Mr. Cotton came, invited me to preach ; felt freedom and sweetness in my soul.

‘‘Oct. 25. Rode with Mr. Knight into town in his calabash. Preached three sermons, 2 Cor. xiii.5 Mark i. 2 ; Luke x. ult. 0, the dreadful ignorance and wickedness of these parts; 0 what a burthen dear Mr. Cotton has daily to bear.

"Oct. 26. Rode with Mr. Cotton back seven miles to Mr. Bonnet’s preached at 1 o’clock to a numerous and affected assembly. One converted. Returned with a great number to Providence. Preached to a full assembly many scoffers present ; one man hired for twenty shillings to come into the meeting-house and fall down, which he did and made great disturbance; ordered all, who had a real concern for the salvation of

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 14

their souls, to follow me to Mr. Cotton’s in order to have a conference with them. A considerable number came, who seemed considerably moved. Mark xvi. 16; Job xxvii. 8.

"Oct. 27. Went with Mr. Cotton and madam over the ferry to Rehoboth, upon Mr. Greenwood’s invitation; preached at 1. Rode with Mr. C. &c. to Swansey.

"Oct. 28. Brother Finney went to deacon Kingsley for liberty to preach in the Baptist meetinghouse, but he refused it; but deacon —sent for the key, and I preached at 1, and again in the evening. 0, poor, bigoted, ignorant, prejudiced people! Went after sermon to Capt. William Turner’s, a separate Baptist; was exceedingly pleased with his wife, a true and shining Christian and a woman of great knowledge and prudence; her family exceedingly well governed by her: stayed with them and discoursed about their spiritual concerns, &c. I think, that the principles of the separate Baptists are the most uncharitable, unscriptnral, and unreasonable, that I have yet met with. John vii. 38; Ez. xxii. 14.

"Oct. 29. Came with Mr. Cotton and many others to Attleborough: very courteously received by Mr. Wells. Heard Mr. Turner of Rehohoth; preached after him ; a great deal of affection and sobbing through the whole assembly; had great enlargement. Exhorted in the evening at Mr.Well’s. Matt. vi. 33.

"Oct. 30. Had a great sense of my own badness and unworthiness, of what a cursed heart I have. 0, Lord, let me see and know more of it. Rode with Mr. Wells and many others to Norton kindly received by Mr. Avery. Preached to a full assembly ; much affection and sobbing through the whole assembly. Ezek. xxii. 14. Rode after lecture to Taunton. Lodged at madam Danforth’s, who lives with her daughter Hodges. Preached at 10 : a great outcry in the assembly ; many greatly wounded. Dined at Mr. Danforth’s, son to the former minister. Rode to Raynham with Mr. Wales and brother Byram.

"Nov. 1. Preached in the forenoon to a full assembly; one cried out, many affected. Mark i. 2, 3. Advised those, who belonged to the assembly, not to follow me to Taunton, but stay and hear their own preacher. Went with brother Byram to Taunton ; preached there, Job xxvii. 8. One or two cried out. Appointed another meeting in the evening. Hos. xiii. 13. I believe thirty cried out. Almost all the negroes in town wounded ; three or four converted. A great work in the town. Dear brother Crocker, a true servant of Jesus Christ, preaches here upon probation. I was forced to break off my sermon, before it was done, the outcry was so great: continued the meeting till 10 or 11 o’clock.

"Oct. 2. Rode with Mr. Crocker to the tavern to see Capt. Leonard’s negro (a slave), found him under a very clear and genuine conviction. Dear brother Rogers came to see me here. Rode with a great number to Bridgewater. Preached to a full assembly in Mr. Shaw’s meeting-house.

Present the Rev. Messrs. John Wales, Jonathan Parker, John Cotton, Daniel Perkins, John Shaw, John Porter. Matt. vi. 33.

"Nov. 3. Rode with a great number to Mr. Perkins’s meeting-house ; a very full assembly. After sermon the lecture was appointed at Mr. Anger’s; but so many wounded, that I could not leave them. Therefore preached again to a full assembly. Ez. xxii. 14. A great outcry : four or five converted.

"Nov. 4. Rode to Mr. Porter’s. A great multitude. Preached upon a stage. Hos. xiii. 13. One converted in sermon. After dinner rode with Mr. Belcher and a great multitude to Easton. Brother Rogers preached.

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 15

John v. 40. A very great outcry in the assembly. I preached after him. Acts vii. 51; four or five converted. Lodged at Mr. Belcher’s.

Nov. 5. Came to Mr. Niles’s of Braintree. Preached with great freedom, 2 Cor. xiii. 5. Present, Messrs. Eells and Hancock ; Mr. Worcester came in the evening.

Nov. 6. Set out for Boston. Met by dear Mr. Prince and Mr. Bromfield about eight miles from Boston. Came in to Mr. Bromfleld’s; received in a most kind and Christian manner by him, madam, and his family,—a dear Christian family, full of kindness, love, and goodness: the names of his family Edward and Abigail ; their children, Edward, Abigail, Henry, Sarah, Thomas, Mary, Eliza, Samuel. His eldest son is now in his last year at Cambridge college I believe a real converted person. Soon after my arrival came the Hon. Joseph Willard, Secretary, Rev. Mr. Webb and Mr. Cooper, and Major Sewall, to bid me welcome to Boston. At 6 o’clock rode with Mr. Bromfield in his chaise to the north end of the town and preached for Mr. Webb to a great assembly. 2 Cor. xiii. 5. After sermon returned to dear Mr. Webb’s; pleased with the conversation of dear Mr. Gee.

"Nov. 7. Rose and prayed with Mr. Rogers. At 10 rode with Mr. Bromfield to Mr. Webb’s, preached, Hos. xiii. 13, to a full assembly. Returned and was invited by Dr. Coleman and Mr. Cooper to preach for Dr. Coleman in the forenoon of the next day, being Sabbath, and by Mr.

Prince and Dr. Sewall in the afternoon. Preached at the workhouse.

"Nov. 8. Went to Dr. Coleman’s meeting, preached with considerable freedom, Job xxvii. 8. Dined with the Dr. Went with Mr. Rogers to Mr. Prince’s. Preached, Mark xvi. 16, to a full assembly. After meeting was followed by a great throng of children, who importunately desired me to give them a word of exhortation in a private house, which I consented to do, though I designed to go and hear Mr. Prince, who, being by, desired, that I would have it publicly, which I consented to after 6. We met again. Preached, Matt. vi. 33, to a very full asseml)ly. Rode with Mr. Bromfield in a close chaise; followed to his house after me a great many children to receive a word of exhortation at the gate, which I could not stand long to do, being very wet.

Nov. 9. Visited this morning by a great number of persons under soul trouble. Refused to preach, because I designed to go out of town. Discoursed with Mr. Bromfield’s dear children ; took my leave by prayer, recommending them and one another to the Lord. Just as I was going, came Mr. Webb, and told me the people were meeting together to hear another sermon. I consented to preach again. A scholar from Cambridge being present, who came to get me to go to Cambridge, hastened to Cambridge, and by a little after 6 a great part of the scholars had got to Boston. Preached to a very thronged assembly : many more than could get into the house, Ps. xxxiv. 8, with very great freedom and enlargement. I believe the children of God were very much refreshed. They told me afterwards, they believed, that Mather Byles was never so lashed in his life. This morning Mr. Cooper came to me in the name of the Hon. Jacob Wendell, Esq. and earnestly desired a copy of my sermon, preached in the forenoon of the Lord’s day, for the press. 0, that God would make and keep me humble. Appointed to preach tommorow for Mr. Balch of Dedham, at his desire.

"Nov. 10. Madam Bromfield gave me this morning a shirt, and pair of

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 16

gold buttons, two cambric handkerchiefs, and part of a loaf of sugar and he a preaching Bible, in two vols. &c.

"About eight miles from Boston met Mr. Cotton of Providence, who came by the desire of his church to get me to come back that way, and informed me of some very good beginnings and very hopeful appearances among his people, and the people of other persuasions there but I thought it my duty to go directly home. He accompanied me to Mr. Balch’s at Dedham. Preached, Mark. xvi. 16. Went to Medfield.

Nov. 11. Preached at 3 with some freedom, Mark ii. 3. Went in the evening to see Mr. Baxter.

Nov. 12. Being thanksgiving, preached Ps.xxxiv. 8, and in the evening at Medway for Mr. Bucknam. He seemed displeased, that I told his people, that Christians generally knew the time of their conversion. Returned to uncle Adams’s; gave a word of exhortation to, sung and prayed with, a number of young people there.

Nov. 13. Went with uncles Wheelock, Adams, aunt Wheelock, Elisha Adams, and many more to Bellingham. Preached to a very large assembly in the woods. Mark xvi. 16, Many appeared affected; present, Messrs. Dorr, Messenger, and dear Mr. Havens. Dined at Mr. Obadiah Wheelock’s. Received and treated with much respect by him and family, and by brother Benjamin much importuned to preach at Mendon ; but came to Uxbridge.

Nov. 11. Came to Thompson Nov. 15. Preached three sermons for Mr. Cabot, one to rite young people at night many affected.

Nov. 16. Came to the consociation at Windham, and afterwards went home about 1 o’clock. What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits

From this journal of a short preaching tour, it appears that in about twenty-five days he preached more than forty sermons, besides attending various conferences, and giving exhortations, counsel, &c. A similar journal of a tour in the month of June, 1742, gives an account of hiss preaching in different towns between Lebanon and New Haven, and as far west as Stratford. In one week he preached ten times. The following is an extract:—" June 9, 1742. Came to New Haven. Understood, that the authority have been consulting how to take me, and that Col. Whiting had given out great words, and had said, that I should not preach but once in town.

June 10. Went to morning prayers at college.[ Yale, Ed. ] Afterwards was invited to breakfast with the rector (Mr. Clap). I went over : he seemed to be very much set against the separate meeting, charged them with great disorder ; insisted upon it, that we ought to proceed against those we think not converted, according to the rule, Matt. xviii. ‘ First go and tell him his fault, then take two or three more,’ &c. I told him, I could not believe, that that rule was ever intended to be improved so, for a man’s being unconverted. Was no trespass against me. Again, it is no scandal and if it is, then all mankind are born scandalous. 1 asked him to tell me the steps of procedure with such. He said,—’ "Go and tell him his fault, then take two or three more : then go to your association." I supposed, that they would be generally in the same case and not suitable judges : he said, I must deal with them as before. I asked him what I should do, when hitherto I have condemned and they justified. He said, that it would be very proper to print upon it. I asked him what I should do for the people of the country, who were going by thousands to hell. He

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 17

said, I should deal with them after the same manner. He seemed to have a remarkable faculty to darken every thing. Preached at 6 o’clock, Ps. xxxiv. 8, with freedom. Understood, that Col. Whiting had been over to the governor to. consult him about me, and that the authority met in the evening upon it.

"June 12. Sabbath day. Preached three sermons, John v. 40, with two uses according to Matt. xv. 21, and Matt. xxii. 12; the third from Rom. ix 22, with great power. A young woman from North Haven said, she would go to the New Light meeting and see how they acted. She did not question but she should hear some of them cry out. This she spoke with scorn, deriding them. She came, and was the first, that cried out in great distress. There were also many others in great distress. The children of God refreshed. The people in general so prejudiced, that they won’t come to hear me.

"June 13. Stayed at home to receive such as wanted to consult me. Was full all day. Was visited by many dear Christians ; heard dreadful accounts about Mr. N.’s conduct with them, when under their concern.

June 14. Preached Ps. xci. II. The children of God much refreshed.

June 16. Preached this morning at Ripton, John v. 40. Came to Derby, preached twice, Gal. ii. 20; Rum. ix. 22, with power. The great power of God was seen, three or four converted ; many wounded ; many raging. Brother Humphrey very lively. I was very much spent and faint. Sat up with the wounded till just day.

"June 17. In the morning preached, Ps. xxxiv. 8. Came to New Haven, preached, Mark xvi. 16; many edified and refreshed.

"June 18. Went to see Col. Whiting; treated courteously ; he promised me a visit. Discoursed with many, that came to consult me. 0, I long to be near the Lord, to be delivered from this body of sin and death. When, 0 when, will it be ?"

Mr. Wheelock did not escape the general flame of persecution. The following letter to his wife will throw some light on the state of things in Connecticut. It was written June 28, 1742, at New Haven :—" The week before last I preached ten sermons. I told you in my last of the power of God at Derbv. Last week I preached ten times again. My journey was to Guilford, where we saw a great shaking among dry hones, and hell break loose and in a rage at it. We also saw a great shaking at Branford, and something at East Haven. They tell me, in the two former places it was greater than ever had been seen before in them. I am this day going to preach round the other way, as far as Stratford. Things in this town are much more calm than they were ; I mean as to the spirit and temper of people. Mr. Clap refuses to let me preach in the college or to let the scholars come to hear me. 0 that God would give him another heart. I am exceedingly worn out with constant labor and much watching." It may well be deemed remarkable at the present day, that in Connecticut one eminent itinerant minister, afterwards the president of the college of New Jersey, should be carried as a vagrant out of the colony, and that another, afterwards the president of Dartmouth college, should he interdicted from preaching the gospel to the students of Yale.w

With all the fervency of his zeal, Dr. Wheeiock was yet discreet and Wise, and set himself against the fanaticism of the separatists and of the lay-exhorters, who were disturbing the order of the churches. The following extract from a letter, addressed to him by one of them in 1744, may show the spirit of the times. After speaking of his afflictions and losses

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 18

the writer, who lived in Plainfield, says :—" Yet all this never went so near my soul, as it does to hear and see the blessed work and ways of the glorious God called errors and delusions of the devil. Pray, Sir, let me deal plainly now, and don’t be angry; do you think you are out of danger of committing the unpardonable sin against the Holy Ghost ? It would not surprise me much to hear, that God had opened the flood-gates of his wrath and let out the horrors of conscience on you, and many more of your party, who deny the truth, so that you should die in as great despair as Judas or Spira did."

While, on the one hand, Mr. Wheelock was thus bitterly censured by those, whom he would save from fanatical extremes, and on the other hand, was rebuked by the church-and-state party, as it may be called, who thought that the parish lines were never to be invaded by itinerancy, he wisely and earnestly improved the remarkable season of the outpouring of the Spirit of God to preach the gospel of salvation to his brethren in every field of promising usefulness. The doctrines, which he preached, were those, which humble man and exalt the grace and mercy of God,—the doctrines of original sin, regeneration by the supernatural influences of the divine Spirit, justification by faith in Jesus Christ, the perdition of the unbelieving, and the perseverance of the righteous. Knowing the relation of a pure church to the progress of religion, one great object of his preaching was to expose the hypocrisy of false professors and bring them to repentance and to awaken the slumbering disciples from their torpor. Aware that the neglecters of the great salvation must perish, his heart bled for them, and with unequalled pathos and tenderness, with the eloquence of an inflamed heart, he urged them to accept the mercy, which was most freely offered them in the gospel. Under his preaching there were repeated revivals in his parish in 1735, the first year of his settlement, and down to 1769, when he removed to a new field of labor.

The same divine blessing, which attended his zealous preaching of the gospel in East Windsor, as evinced by the letter of Mr. Edwards, already quoted, attended his itinerant labors in other towns, as appears from various letters of grateful acknowledgment, addressed to him.

ORIGIN OF MOOR’ S SCHOOL.

After the period of religious excitement had subsided, Mr. Wheelock commenced his labors as a teacher of youth by taking a few scholars into his own house. He found his salary as a parish minister inadequate to the support of his family, and probably the small profits of a school, as well as the hope of being useful to youth, furnished a reason for this additional labor.

Although settled in 1735, on a nominal salary of £140, yet as the amount was made up by reckoning certain provisions at high prices, and was to fall proportionally, he in some years received only about a third part of that sum, paid too for years in provisions. It may well be supposed, that he could not live on one hundred and fifty or sixty dollars a year, and that his parish could have no claim to his whole time. In December, 1743, he was induced to receive among the boys of his school Samson Occom, a Mohegan Indian, aged about 19, and kept him in his family and educated him four or five years. This Indian, it is well known, became a preacher of distinction. Mr. Wheelock soon formed the plan of an Indian missionary school. He conceived, that educated Indians would be more

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 19

successful than white men as missionaries among the red men, though he proposed also to educate a few English youth as missionaries. The project was new, for the labors of Sergeant and the Brainerds, as well as those of Eliot and the Mayhews, were the labors of missionaries among the Indians, and not labors designed to form a band of Indian missionaries. Two Indian boys of the Delaware tribe entered the school in December, 1754, and others soon joined them. In 1762 he had more than twenty youth under his care, chiefly Indians. For their maintenance funds were obtained by subscription of benevolent individuals, from the legislatures of Connecticut and of Massachusetts, and from the commissioners in Boston of the Scotch Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge. Joshua Moor, a farmer in Mansfield, having, about the year 1754, made a donation of a house and two acres of land in Lebanon, contiguous to Dr. Wheelock’s house, the institution received the name of Moor’s Indian Charity School." Of this school several gentlemen were associated with Mr. Wheelock as trustees; but in 1764 the Scotch Society appointed a board of correspondents in Connecticut, who, in 1765, sent out white missionaries and Indian schoolmasters to the Indians on the Mohawk in New York.

In 1766 Mr. Wheelock sent Mr. Occom and Rev. Nathaniel Whitaker to Great Britain to solicit benefactions to the school, that its operations might be enlarged. The success of this mission was great, and was owing chiefly to the labors of Mr. Occom. He was the first Indian preacher from America, that ever visited Great Britain, and preached several hundred sermons with great acceptance to numerous assemblies in England and Scotland. The king subscribed £200, and lord Dartmouth 50 guineas. The amount of monies collected was about seven thousand pounds sterling in England, which was deposited in a board of trustees in London, of which lord Dartmouth was president and John Thornton treasurer, and between two and three thousand pounds in Scotland, which was deposited with the Scotch Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge. To these societies Mr. Wheelock presented his accounts, on the allowance of which he drew for the monies voted. The expenditures related chiefly to the support of the scholars in the school, (of whom, in some years, there were thirty or forty,) of their teacher, and of missionaries and schoolmasters among the Indians. Of his own disinterestedness in his great and unequalled labors, some judgment may be formed from the following extract of a private, unpublished letter to a friend in London, dated, Lebanon, March 13, 1770: "My dependence for support has been upon a small salary from my people and the rents and profits of mine and my wife’s small patrimony, and I have used frugality as to my manner of living. I have never yet from the first used a farthing, that has been collected either in Europe or America for the use of my school, for my own or family’s support; and that I may cut off all occasion of reproach forever from such, as are seeking occasion, I have determined never to use any part of it. I have been exposed to great and extraordinary expenses. I find that my expense has been so disproportionate to my means, that I am now in debt about one hundred and fifty pounds sterling, below a balance with the World. And I am not able to pay my debts, remove, build, and settle without assistance, unless I could sell my little interest here, which I have no Prospect of, as there are so many sellers, who are removing into the new country. My necessity is not known, except by a few. I have wronged no creditor, and the conjecture of the world in general is, that I have made a great estate by my school, and many seem to think it

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 20

incredible, that I should do what I have done, unless inspired by such a motive to it." *

OF THE ESTABLISHMENT OF DARTMOUTH COLLEGE.

After conducting Moor’s school in Lebanon fourteen or fifteen years, Dr. Wheelock, in order to increase its usefulness, determined to remove it to some new country, and to obtain for it an incorporation as an academy, in which a regular and thorough education might be given to the youth, Indian and English, who should he assembled in it. At this period there were only two or three colleges in New England, those at Cambridge and New Haven, and an institution at Warren, R. I. which was afterwards transplanted to Providence. When his design was made known to the public, he received various offers from the owners of new lands and from different towns. In the county of Berkshire, Massachusetts, liberal offers were made from Pittsfield, and Stockbridge, and the owners of No. 2. The Mayor and Aldermen of Albany offered a building 132 feet by 42, situated on a hill, overlooking tile city, with a few acres of land, valued at 2,300 pounds sterling. In New Hampshire some thousand acres of land were offered in Plymouth, Rumney, and Campton, also in Orford, and Haverhill, or Upper Coos. It being determined to plant the school in the western part of New Hampshire, a charter, dated December 13, 1769, was obtained for a college, which was endowed partly by governor Wentworth and partly by private individuals with about 40,000 acres of land, In procuring this charter there was a negotiation between Dr. Wheelock and Gov. Wentworth, as appears from letters and papers in the hands of the writer of this memoir. Among these papers is an original copy of the charter, which Dr. Wheelock caused to be prepared and presented to Gov. Wentworth. In this the title is ‘‘Dartmouth Academy," instead of" Dartmouth College," and Dr. Wheelock is called the founder of the School, not of the Academy. The words are, we "appoint our trusty and well beloved Eleazar Wheelock, Doctor in Divinity, the founder of the said School, to be president of the said Dartmouth Academy." Its the charter of the college the words are the same, except the substitution of the word College for both " School" and " Academy," and this probably by mistake of the transcriber, who, in changing the word Academy throughout the instrument to College, might in this place inadvertently change the word School also to College. This is probable, because it had been recited, that Dr. Wheelock had "on his own estate set on foot an Indian Charity School," or founded it. Some names are also mentioned in the charter of the college as trustees, which the governor omitted, as he did also one or two clauses, in the charter, which he executed ; and some names are inserted, which are not found in the projected charter. In a letter, a few weeks before the charter, the governor proposed the bishop of London as a trustee, and says,— "the nomination of the three provincial officers to be of the active trust in this country, I strongly recommend, but do not insist upon. That 1 did not mention any other than the governor to be of the trust can by no means he

[ *Mr. Wheelock received the degree of Doctor or Divinity from the University of Edinburgh, June 29, 1767. His diploma bears upon it, among other, the eminent names of William Robinson, president, Gregory, A. Monro, Jun., J. Hope, William Cullen, Hugh Blair, Adam Ferguson, and M. Stewart. It was an unsolicited honor; but whether such distinctions among the ministers of the gospel are on the whole useful as well as whether they can be sought in accordance with the prohibition of the Head of the church, may well be made a question. In the present case the honor was conferred rather on the head of a school, than on the pastor of a church. The gaining of an honorary title is a poor ambition in a minister of the gospel, and the possession of it a poor satisfaction to a high looking mind. ]

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 21

preclusive; neither did I so intend it." In reply Dr. Wheelock consented to the bishop, but expressed his satisfaction, that the governor would not "insist upon the addition of the provincial officers." Yet those officers were named in the charter, and the bishop was omitted.

It appears from this negotiation, that Dr. Wheelock proposed to remove his school to New Hampshire on condition of obtaining an act of incorporation of Dartmouth Academy and satisfactory grants of land, and that Gov. Wentworth gave a charter of Dartmouth College, with a liberal endowment from the government and from iudividnals. In the charter Dr. Wheelock is called the " founder of the College," though he claimed in his proposed charter only to be the founder of the School. Whether in a strictly legal sense he was the " founder " of the college is of little consequence. He was the cause of its establishment. The governor and his four provincial officers in their letter to hin of June 10, 1770, respecting the location, utter this prayer to ‘‘ the Fountain of all true wisdom,"— " that under your care this seminary of Christian knowledge may be safely founded and long flourish."

Doubtless at first, Dr. Wheelock intended to have the School incorporated, and to have the trustees in London share in the government of it, but the governor created a College, and conferred no power on the London trustees, omitting the clause in Dr. Wheelock’s projected charter, which gave them an equal voice with the American trustees in the election of the president. Though the London trustees consented to the removal of the school, yet they were entirely dissatisfied with the incorporation of a college. One of them wrote, in July, 1770, speaking of Lord Dartmouth and Mr. Thornton, "they, as well as the other trustees, see clearly, that by the affair of the charter the trust here is meant to he annihilated. It was certainly a very wrong step for you to take without consulting us. It is the sentiment of us all, that by lodging the power in other hands, it has superseded the trust here, and we shall desire to have done with it.’’ In reply, Dr. Wheelock wrote, dated Hanover, November 9, 1770, saying, there was no design on the part of any of the trustees in Connecticut to annihilate the trust in England on the contrary, he says, that the Connecticut trustees " desired, that the trust in England should have not only the Patronage of the school, but of the college too so far as to have an equal share in the choice of a president, so long as they should see fit to perpetuate their board, and so the charter was drafted, when it was sent to Gov. Wentworth ; nor have I ever heard, that one of the trustees in this province objected against it, but the governor, apprehending it would be a burden you would not be full of and that it would make the holy too unwieldy, rejected that clause in it. The charter means to incorporate the school with the college and give it possession of the donations and grants, made in this province to it. But the charter was never designed to convey the least power or control of any funds collected in Europe, nor does it convey any jurisdiction over the school to the trustees of the college. The charter grants them jurisdiction only over the college. If I resign my office as president of the college, I yet retain the same relation to the school, and control of it, as ever."

Without doubt these last remarks of Dr. Wheelock are perfectly correct. But if so, it then follows most clearly, that his school was not " incorporated in and with Dartmouth college." There is but one charter; and that is the charter of the college. There is but one set of trustees; and they are the trustees of the college. The long preamble to the charter is to be considered only as a history of Moor’s school and of the circumstances,

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 22

which led Dr. Wheelock to apply for a charter of the college, not as proving at all, that the school is merged in the college, or that the founder of the school is therefore the legal founder of the college. In his narrative, 1771, he says, "The charter gives the trustees no right of jurisdiction but over the college and the school remains still under the same patronage, authority, and jurisdiction, as it was under before the charter was given." The trustees of the college also voted, that they had no jurisdiction over the school. In fact, Moor’s school has ever been kept distinct from Dartmouth college ; Dr. Wheelock, in his last will, appointed his successor as its president and after his death it received in New Hampshire, in 1807, a separate act of incorporation.* To this school Hon. John Phillips, in 1770, gave 3,333 dollars ; and the State of Vermont afterwards gave the township of Wheelock half to the school and half to the college.

Though the college bears the name of Dartmouth, yet it does not appear that lord Dartmouth was its benefactor, nor did he approve of its incorporation. He and the other London trustees wrote to Dr. Wheelock, April 25, 1771— "We cannot but look upon the charter, you have obtained, and your intention of building a college and educating English youths as going beyond the line, by which both you and we are circumscribed;" and they require him to adhere to the original plan, to keep a distinct account of the monies of the school and not blend them with his college, and that he draw up a fresh narrative of his school. February 1, 1775, these trustees informed him, that the fund in their hands was expended, and of course, that their trust had ceased ; but the Scotch fund remains at the present day, and the interest is paid in settlement of the accounts of Moor’s Indian Charity School.

Governor Wentworth, and not lord Dartmouth, was the chief benefactor and patron of the college. It had been right, had the college borne his name; and this in fact Dr. Wheelock authorized his agent in the negotiation about the charter to propose to the governor. The charter having been obtained, and the governor having offered five hundred acres in Hanover, and other proprietors having offered much land in the neighborhood, Dr. Wheelock, in 1770, visited the towns in the western part of New Hampshire, and it was determined to plant the college at Hanover, near the banks of the Connecticut river. The grant of the township of land of 24,000 acres to the institution, proved void, having been previously granted by a former governor.

In August, 1770, Dr. Wheelock took leave of Lebanon and proceeded to Hanover, in order to make preparation for the immediate reception of

[ * The following extract is taken from the charter of Moor’s school:

"Be it enacted in the Sarate and House of Represemtatives, in General Court convened, That the said John Wheelock, president of Dartmouth college and his successors in office for the time being, appointed agreeably to the charter of said college, whether by the last will of the president preceding or otherwise; shall forever hereafter be, and hereby is declared to be the president of Moor’s Charity School; and the board of trustees of Dartmouth College for the time being shall forever hereafter be and hereby are declared to be the Trustees of said school, and that said school as a corporation and as heretofore considered for the purposes aforesaid, may and shall be known and be called hereafter by the name of the President of Moor’s Charity School and that said president with the advice and consent of said Trustees may and shall expend the issues and all the funds and property of said school for the uses intended by the donors, provided nevertheless that the funds of said college and school and their proceeds shall be distinct and separate, and that nothing herein contained shall be considered as having any concern with the funds in the care of the Honorable Society in Scotland for Propagating Christian Knowledge, or as interfering with their rights of inspection, or as affecting any other property belonging to said school than such as has been and may be hereafter granted in America for the use and benefit of said school."

Thus it appears, that though Moor’s Charity school and Dartmouth college are two distinct institutions, yet they are under the control of the same Board of trust, or rather the same gentlemen, who are the President and Trustees of Dartmouth College, have the entire charge of Moor’s Charity school, though in a different capacity. ]

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 23

his family and his pupils in the wilderness. The pine trees on a few acres had been cut down. Without nails or glass he built him a log cabin, eighteen feet square, and directed the operations of forty or fifty laborers, who were employed in digging a well, and in building a house for his family of one story, and another of two stories, eighty feet long, for his scholars. As his family arrived before these habitations were prepared, his wife and daughters lived for about a month in his hut, and his sons and students made them booths and beds of hemlock boughs. October 29, he removed into his house; and the rooms in college were soon made comfortable. A school-house was also constructed. The scholars engaged with zeal in their studies, in their new abode, finding "the pleasure and profit of such a solitude." " But that which crowns all," says Dr. Wheelock in his narrative, "is the manifest tokens of the gracious presence of God by a spirit of conviction and consolation. For no sooner were these outward troubles removed, but there were evident impressions upon the minds of a number of my family and school, which soon became universal, insomuch, that scarcely one remained, who did not feel a greater or less degree of it, till the whole lump seemed to be leavened by it, and love, peace, joy, satisfaction, and contentment reigned through the whole. The 23d day of January, 1771, was kept as a day of solemn fasting and prayer, on which I gathered a church in this college, and school, which consisted of twenty-sevens members, on which occasion they solemnly renewed their oath of allegiance to Christ, and entire devotedness of body and soul, and all endowments of both, without reserve to God, for time and eternity." *

The first commencement, held at the college, was in August, 1771, when four young men were graduated ; one of whom, John Wheelock, the son of Dr. Wheelock, was his successor as the president of the school and of the college, and another, Mr. Ripley, was the first professor of theology in the college. Rev. L. Frisbie, of Ipswich, was in this class. The last survivor of the four, Samuel Gray, died in Windharn, Connecticut, in 1836. Dr. Wheelock lived to preside at seven other commencements, and conferred the honors of college on seventy-two young men, of whom thirty-nine became ministers of the gospel. Among then were Rev. Dr. John Smith, professor of the ancient languages in Dartmouth college, Rev. Dr. M’Keen, the first president of Bowdoin college, Rev. James Miltimore, of Newbury, Massachusetts, and Rev. Dr. Asa Burton, of Thetford, Vt.

[ *The following tines are an extract from a totem on the founding of Dartmouth college, by Mr. Frisbie, of the first class:

0 Forlorn, thus youthful Dartmouth trembling stood,

Surrounded with inhospitable wood

No silken furs on her soft limbs to spread,

No dome to screen her fair, defenceless head,

On every side site cast her wishful eyes,

Then humbly raised them to the pitying skies.

Thence grace divine beheld her tender care,

And bowed an ear, propitious to her prayer.

Soon changed the scene; the prospect shines more fair

Joy lights all faces with a cheerful air;

The buildings rise, the work appears alive,

Pale fear expires and languid hopes revive.

Calm solitude, to liberal science kind,

Sheds her soft influence so the studius mind;

Afflictions stand aloof; the heavenly powers

Drop needful blessings in abundant showers.

Thus Dartmouth, happy in her sylvan seat,

Drinks the pure pleasures of her fair retreat;

Her songs of praise in notes melodious rise,

Like clouds of incense, to the listening skies;

her God protects her with paternal care,

From ills destructive and each fatal snare;

And may he still protect and she adore,

Till heaven, and earth, and time shall be no more." ]

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 24

In 1773 there were about seventy members of the church, of whom about fifty were members of the college and school.

There was a second period of deep religious excitement in the college in the close of 1774, or beginning of 1775. In his narrative, after speaking of some efforts of the students and resolves of some whole classes for reformation, Dr. Wheelock adds,— "And to this God seems to have further testified his approbation by pouring out a spirit of conviction upon a number of the students of late, which, in a judgment of charity, has issued in saving effects in a number of instances: And I hope in God to see evidences of the same effectual work in many others, who at present appear to have some real conviction of their perishing necessity of the renewing work of the Spirit of grace and hitherto the work has appeared to be very genuine, and the fruits of it very good."

The death of such a man as Dr. Wheelock is a most interesting event we wish to see in what manner he meets the king of terrors, whom we also must meet. Although afflicted for years with the asthma, he yet ceased not to preach to his little flock, composed of his students and the neighboring villagers. When unable to walk, he was repeatedly carried to the chapel ; and he sometimes conducted public worship, seated in his chair in his own house. His prayer was granted, that he might not outlive his usefuluness. After his strength, enfeebled by so many cares and labors, had been declining for about four years, he was seized with the epilepsy in January, 1779. Though he recovered, so as to ride on horseback, yet, in April, he rapidly declined, and died on Saturday, April 2-1, 1779, in the 68th year of his age. In the morning he was able, with assistance, to walk his room. But as he knew, that his end was near, his family were summoned at his request. Being asked by his wife what were his views of death he replied, "I do not fear death with any amazement ;" and soon afterwards repeated the exulting words of the Psalmist, and of the Apostle: "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for thou art with me ; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

" I have a desire to depart and to be with Christ." At his request a minister, who was present, now prayed, commending his departing spirit to God. He then uttered his final exhortation, " Oh, my family, be faithful unto death !" and immediately closed his eyes on all the objects of the earth. His immortal spirit fled, leaving impressed on the countenance of him, who slept in Jesus, a smile of peace.

Dr. Wheelock was "of a middle stature and size, well proportioned, erect, and dignified. His features were prominent his eyes a light blue and animated. His complexion was fair, and the general expression of his countenance pleasing and handsome. His voice was remarkably full, harmonious, and commanding."

Dr. Wheelock was twice married. His first wife, whom he married in April, 1735, was Mrs. Sarah Maltbv, relict of Capt. William Maltby of New Haven, and daughter of Rev. John Davenport, of Stamford, Connecticut. She died at Lebanon, November 13, 1746, aged 43. One of her daughters, Ruth, married Rev. William Patton, of Hartford. his second wife was Miss Mary Brinsmead of Milford, Connecticut. By her he had five children ;—Mary, who married professor Woodward, the first professor of mathematics in Dartmouth college ; Abigail, who married professor Ripley, the first professor of theology in Dartmouth college John Wheelock, LL. D., the successor of his father, and president nearly forty years; Col. Eleazar Wheelock, and James Wheelock, Esq. his descendants live in different States of the Union, from Maine to Louisiana.

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 25

His grandson, Gen. Eleazar W. Ripley, distinguished in the war of 1812, is now a member of congress from Louisiana; another grandson is the Rev. William Patten, D. D. late of Newport, R.I., now of Hartford, Conn. ; another grandson still, Rev. James Wheelock, is a minister in Indiana; one of his granddaughters married Hon. Judah Dana, late a senator of the United States from Maine; another married Rev. William Allen, president of Bowdoin college; and another married Rev. James Marsh, president of Vermont university.

Dr. Wheelock published a narrative of the Indian Charity school at Lebanon, l76~2; A sermon at the ordination of Charles J. Smith I n 1763; Narratives in several numbers from 1763 to 1771; Continuation of the narrative, 1773, to which is added an abstract of a mission to the Delaware Indians west of the Ohio, by M’Clure and Frisbie; A sermon on liberty of conscience, or no king but Christ in the church, 1775. His memoirs by Drs. M’Clure and Parish, were published in 1811, with extracts from his correspondence.

Some of his religious views, as manifested by his manuscript notes of sermons, are the following. In a sermon on John iii. 5, on the renovation of the heart by the Spirit : " The subject is passive;—the sinner is made poor ;—and owns, whenever it is done, that God has done it. And not only passive, but the greatest opposition to it, such as nothing but Omnipotence could conquer."—" "The sinner must see certain damnation before him, and no other possible way of escape, before he will comply."— "Being born of water and the Spirit implies a new principle of life, and of course a change of all the propensities, inclinations and affections: these will all be, as the principle is."

In a sermon on Heb. ix. 13, he says, "God hardens whom he will, without giving any color of reason to impeach his justice or goodness, or doing any thing inconsistent with the greatest sincerity of love towards sinners."— "His will to harden sinners and to punish them has the same reason for it, as his actually doing it—their willful blindness, obstinate impenitence, and resistance of the means of grace,"—as from Ex. viii. 15, 32. Rom. i. 24. "It is not the decree of God, but the love, grace, and goodness of God, which are the means of hardening men, till God gives them up."

In a sermon on James, i. 13, he says, "God is not the author of any man’s sin ;—he infuses not the evil, nor co-operates in the act as sin, yet he has decreed the sin, and thus makes Satan and wicked men subserve the great purposes of his glory."

Very few of his sermons were written out at length. His manuscripts in general exhibit only short notes of the heads of his discourses, especially after the first few years of his settlement, when the pressure of a multitude of cares gave him little leisure for writing sermons. The following is an extract of a sermon on Ezek. xxii. 14, written in 17;36, and which in its character is not unlike the sermon of president Edwards, of 1741, entitled, "Sinners in the hands of an angry God." It begins thus:— "Sinners! you will find it another thing, when you come to stand it out against the fiery indignation and vengeance of your incensed God, when he comes to deal with your naked soul, and immediately execute his vindictive wrath and vengeance upon you; I say, another thing, than you do here to stand out and endure his thunderings from Mount Sinai. You have already stood many shocks of thunderings from thence. The fiery law of God has been again and again delivered to you; and you have been again and again told of the flaming sword of justice, that is

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 26

whetting, ready to execute the vengeance of an angry God upon you; but they, who have dispensed these things to you, have seemed to you as those that mocked, when they have told of the designs of the Almighty against you, and the swift destruction from his presence and from the glory of his power, which you are running amain down into. And I am afraid, I shall seem this day to you as a mocker, as I have heretofore seemed to many of you ; else why have you not before now bestirred yourselves to flee from the destruction, which God threatens you with? And take it how you will, I will tell you plainly, what my errand to you this day is. I am come with a message from the King of kings, and that is importunately to urge upon you the question in our text, "can thine heart endure, or can thy hand be strong in the day that God shall deal with you?", And would to God I might, before I have done with you, bring you within the view of that mount, which burneth with fire,—that you might look into the pit of blackness and darkness, to which you are hasting, and see what God has ordained for you and what he will by and by do unto you, as sure as his name is Jehovah, unless you will be stirred up to flee frornmthe destruction, which he threatens upon you." ‘The following is from the close of the sermon: "How will your hearts endure when devils and damned spirits shall forever upbraid you with a neglect of the day and means of grace, that you had once an opportunity to have escaped these things, if you had not been wretchedly stupid and negligent; and how often will they tell you, while you are weeping, and wailing, and gnashing your teeth, uttering your bitter, though fruitless cries, screeches, and lamentations, ‘Ah! these were things, that you were told of again and again, when you might have escaped them!, I tell you solemnly, I fear, that many of you are posting on amain the downward road to this amazing destruction ; and it is well, if there be not some among you that have gray hairs, whom the devils have these many years expected in hell, knowing, that they have once and again easily prevailed with you to grieve away the Spirit of God, when it was striving with you !"

In the Memoirs of Dr. Wheelock it is stated, that for his great labors eight or nine years as president of the college and school, professor of divinity, and pastor of the church in the college, he received no salary, his only compensation being a supply of provisions for his family. The legislature of New Hampshire, after the college was established, voted him one hundred pounds, and governor Wentworth granted him, December 19, 1771, two hundred acres of land in Hanover, in consideration of his having made a donation of four hundred acres in Hanover to the college. The history of the affair is this. Benning Wentworth had given five hundred acres to the college, and the proprietors of the town had given Dr. Wheelock four hundred acres. At the first meeting of the trustees, October 22, 1770, they agreed with him, at his request, to exchange two hundred acres out of the five hundred for his four hundred acres. But this gift proving illegal, governor John Wentworth made the grant of the two hundred acres directly to Dr. Wheelock, who allowed the college to retain the four hundred, formerly agreed to be given for the same two hundred acres. This land, and other land, which he had purchased, Dr. Wheelock left to his children. He had also built him a house on his own land at the close of the year 1773, till which time he had lived in the hut, or store-house, as it was called, not being able to build for himself. Mr. Thornton, in a letter, July 22, 1774, says, "I was glad to hear you had a comfortable habitation for your family; and I can only repeat to you, that I shall, with great cheerfulness, assist you with what your occasions may require."

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 27

Dr.Wheelock, in reply, acknowledges, that the private munificence of Mr. Thornton had heen "the principal means of his support, since he left Connecticut;" stating also, in regard to his private affairs, that for land purchased, and improvements on his own land, and for buildings, he was still in debt about two hundred and fifty pounds sterling. His patrimony in Connecticut and other property he afterwards sold for upwards of a thousand pounds.

There is scarcely a name, which, for liberality and noble benevolence, deserves to be held in such honorable remembrance, as the name of JOHN THORNTON. He was a London merchant, living at Clapham, of large property, and most deeply interested and earnestly engaged in promoting the kingdom of Jesus Christ in the world. To Rev. John Newton, of Olney, he allowed two hundred pounds a year, that he might be hospitable and "help the poor and needy:" paying him in all about three hundred pounds. He made an annual payment for years of a hundred dollars to Samson Occom. To Dr. Wheelock for a long series of years he was abundantly liberal ; and in fact, such was his confidence in him, that he authorized him to draw upon him for such sums as his private necessities might require.

If it should be asked, " what success attended the efforts of Dr. Wheelock to communicate the blessings of the gospel to the Indian nations?" it may be replied, that he accomplished something for their benefit, and that great and insuperable obstacles in the providence of God prevented him from accomplishing more. It was soon after he sent out missionaries into the wilderness, that the controversy with Great Britain blighted his fair and encouraging prospects. During the last four years of his life there was actual war, in which many of the Indian tribes acted with the enemy. Yet the Oneidans, to whom Mr. Kirkland was sent as a missionary, kept the hatchet buried during the whole revolutionary struggle, and by means of this mission probably were a multitude of the frontier settlers saved from the tomahawk and the scalping knife. Thus is benevolent effort for the instruction and salvation of the savages amply rewarded even in this life. It is easy to see, that had our government expended ten or twenty thousand dollars in giving the miserable Seminole Indians the implements of agriculture and schools, and had a few missionaries been sent out to them, the expense of ten millions or more of dollars, the loss of many lives, and the desolation of the whole territory of East Florida would have been prevented. When will governments, when will the people learn, that benevolence is infinitely higher in dignity and worth, than greedy covetousness; and that, although injustice may carry its point, it were vastly better for those, who succeed, were they defeated in their projects? What brokenhearted widow, what friendless orphan, what mourning, childless father would willingly exchange the life, whose loss is so bitterly deplored, for the possession of the whole of Florida

Some of the Indian youth under Dr. Wheelock became pious, and others made useful and important advances in knowledge. The following is an extract from the letter of a celebrated Indian, one of his scholars, to his son and successor, Dr. John Wheelock the letter was written by colonel Joseph Brant, chief of the four confederate nations in Upper Canada

"Dear Sir, " Grand River, February 9,1801.

I receive an inexpressible satisfaction in hearing from you, that You have taken my sons under your protection ; and also to find, that you yet retain a strong remembrance of our ancient friendship. For my part,

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 28

nothing can ever efface from my memory the persevering attention, your revered father paid to my education, when I was in the place my sons now are. Though I was an unprofitable pupil in some respects; yet my worldly affairs have been much benefited by the instruction I there received. I hope my children may reap greater advantages under your care, both with respect to their future as well as their worldly welfare. The reason that induced me to send them to be instructed under your care, is the assurance I had, that their morals and education would be there more strictly attended to, than at any other place, I know of. The steady friendship you do me the honor to assure me of, is what, from numberless obligations, I doubly owe your family on my part; and I beg leave to assure you, that until death I remain your sincere friend."

This is a remarkable letter, coming from an Indian, who was not long a member of Moor’s school. Two other Indians, Occom and Johnson, were acceptable preachers, and their manuscript sermons are as well written, as those of many of their white brethren. It is not easy to calculate the good, that may have been done by these Indians. A minister wrote from Canada in 1800,— "Col. Brant greatly encourages civilization and Christianity." So that the instruction of Brant may have had an important bearing on the welfare, present and future, of hundreds of Indians.

But were nothing accomplished for their benefit, yet the zeal, which chiefly sought their good, reared up a venerable institution of science, in which many strong minds have been disciplined and made to grow stronger, and nerved for professional toils and public labors, and in which hundreds of ministers have been nurtured for the church of Christ.

For enlarged views and indomitable energy, and persevering and most arduous toils, and for the great results of his labors in the cause of religion and learning, perhaps no man in America is more worthy of being held in honor than ELEAZAR WHEELOCK. In an age, too, of eminent piety, he ranked high amongst the good and devoted servants of Jesus Christ. Amidst all the excellencies of his character doubtless he had his imperfections. Meeting with enemies to his plans and opposers of his measures, subjected frequently to unmerited reproach, it was sometimes with an impatient spirit, that he encountered opposition, and his rebukes were occasionally severe. Open, frank, and unsuspicious, he was keenly touched by the ingratitude of his parishioners and of some of the scholars, whom he had patronized, especially if they thwarted him in his dear and important projects. He felt the full burden of his multiplied cares. In his private journal of 1777, he writes, that, being "on the verge of the grave, he was oppressed with a weight of cares, of many kinds, enough for an angel."

In contemplating his character, some of its prominent traits may now be brought under consideration.

1. He had large and extensive views for the advancement of the kingdom of Christ. The wretched condition of the American Indians, ignorant, though in the neighborhood of Christians, of the gospel of salvation, affected his heart, and he formed the plan of giving them the light from heaven. For this purpose he determined to draw as many of the Indian young men from their roving habits in the wilderness, as possible, and train them in a well-regulated school to be schoolmasters and preachers of the gospel to their red brethren. The schoolmaster and the preacher! these he deemed essential instruments in converting savages into enlightened Christians. And what other instruments can accomplish the work?

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 29

The untutored mind will be sensual, dark, ferocious even the highest degree of civilization, without the knowledge and the reception of the pure gospel of Jesus Christ, will leave the mind a prey to corrupt, disquieting, desolating passions, as has been witnessed most deplorably in unbelieving, Catholic France, as well as in other countries of Europe and America.

As our Indians are now chiefly removed from the States of the Union, and congregated on the west side of the Mississippi, the intelligent benevolence, which seeks their highest welfare, will make strenuous efforts to give them competent schoolmasters and faithful preachers of the gospel. If circumstances shall soon compel them to be stationary, instead of migratory, they will become cultivators of the soil, and thus the instruments, employed for their good, will have tenfold power. As we have gained the rich lands, from which they have been removed, it is to be hoped, that our government, by its sense of justice as well of benevolence, will aim to promote the civilization and Christianization of the unhappy tribes of the West. Assuredly it must be in the power of our government to prohibit the introduction, from the States, of spirituous liquors amongst them, and to encourage their change of habits from the uncertain pursuit of game to the cultivation of the ground, which fails not to reward abundantly the toil that cultures it. A constant course of kindness towards them is demanded by a regard to the safety of the frontier settlers.

When experience had taught Dr. Wheelock the inexpedience of relying on his Indian pupils, unless accompanied in the wilderness, and superintended by white missionaries, he formed the plan of enlarging his school into a college, that he might rear up a multitude of young men, well qualified to execute his purposes of benevolence. If Dartmouth college has been a nursery of science and a blessing to our country, this must be ascribed to the pious zeal and enlarged views of Dr. Wheelock, seeking in the most effectual manner to advance amongst the red heathen the kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ. Thus often has piety enriched the community with the most valuable institutions.

2. He adopted wise measures for the accomplishment of his plans. When his school commenced, he sought in every direction, from individuals at home and abroad and from the provincial governments, the charities, required for the support of the Indian youth. The sending of Samson Occom to Great Britain for the collection of moneys was a master-stroke of policy, although perhaps this was done at the suggestion of Mr. Whitefleld, who also urged Dr. Wheelock himself to proceed to England.

Lest his integrity should be questioned and the fountains of public benevolence be in consequence dried up, he procured the appointment of trustees, both in Connecticut and in England, who should inspect his accounts, and attest his disinterestedness. His correspondence was most extensive. His narratives, printed from time to time, made the world acquainted with his operations, with his receipts and expenditures, and the prospects of usefulness from his school. The establishment of a college was indispensable in order most effectually, in the wisest amid best manner, to promote the objects, which he had in view. His school having been long

a well known institution, its removal to some other place and conversion into a college was a matter of deep interest to the settlers and owners of land in different parts of the country, which enabled Dr. Wheelock to obtain liberal offers from various towns for its establishment in them.*

* Among his correspondents, whose letters are preserved, were John Thornton, Esq; Rev. Messrs. Whitefield, Gifford and, and Erskine ; presidents Burr, Davies, Edwards, Clap, and Stiles; Rev. David and John Brainerd; Governors Livingston and Wentworth; Gen. P. Lyman; Rev. Messrs. Buell, Bellamy, W. Tennant, Solomon Wiiliams, T. Edwards, and S. Kirkland.

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 30

3. Dr. Wheelock was persevering, and incessant it labor. He early placed one great object before him, and on that one great object he kept fixed his undivided attention for nearly half a century. There was with him no vacillation, no wavering in his purpose, no distracting views to relax the energy of his zeal. It is not easy to describe the variety of his cares and the extent of his toils. In Lebanon for thirty-four years he had the charge of a parish. His school, in its various interests, required his incessant watchfulness and effort. Indians were to be drawn from the wilderness, and superintended in their daily conduct; a teacher procured provision to be made for the supply of their wants from public or private charity from year to year; accounts to be kept and submitted to the trustees, missionaries to be educated, and sent out into the wilderness, and there supported. And when he removed to Hanover, his labors were doubled. The two institutions, the school and the college, were ever kept distinct; in both he was a teacher ; of both he was the chief governor. He had houses to build, mills to erect, and lands to clear up and cultivate. He was also the preacher of the college and the village, it is no wonder, that under the weight of such labors and amidst the vexations of a multitude of minute affairs, he should sometimes find himself heavily oppressed. Yet he wished not for repose in this world. He desired to toil, so long as it should please his great Master to continue him on the earth, and then to enter into rest.

4. He was an excellent and faithful minister and an eloquent preacher. Not that he was a writer of polished and elegant sermons. The occupation of his time by other cares would not allow of this. But he plainly and with almost unequalled success preached the great doctrines of the gospel for nearly half a century. Many were the converts, in different parts of the country, under his preaching. Thousands hung upon his lips. The testimony of Dr. Trumbull to his eloquence has already been quoted. Though he knew how to deal in terror; yet he had a most attracting, winning address, and his heart loved to dwell upon the grace and mercy of the Redeemer, and to invite sinners to believe in his name and to accept his free salvation. The circumstance of his being followed in Boston from the meeting-house by a crowd of children, who begged him to give them a word of exhortation, is a most touching scene, and a proof that his manner was tender, affectionate, and most winning.

A learned and elegant writer on subjects of deep importance is to be regarded as a public benefactor ; but much more so is he to be regarded, who with the tongue of eloquence toils incessantly to bring divine truth to bear upon the consciences and hearts of the ignorant, the sinful, and the perishing, and who establishes seminaries, in which are reared up the laborers, who shall toil in the wide field of the world, already "white unto the harvest."

5. Dr. Wheelock was of a cheerful and pleasant temper, and manifested much urbanity in his deportment. Yet the multitude and weight of his affairs, combined with the occasional gloom of hypochondria, sometimes extorted from him groans. He had a most delicate sense of propriety. His numerous acquaintances he always received in the most cordial and hospitable manner. His friends were bound to him by the strongest ties. He used to say, that he abhorred that religious profession, "which was not marked with good manners."

6. In his government of his school and college Dr. Wheelock combined great patience and kindness with the energy of necessary and indispensable discipline. It was no small labor to tame the ferocity of the Indian

[1838] Eleazar Wheelock, D.D. 31

and to reduce them to submission. When for a flagrant fault such a youth was to be corrected by his preceptor, Dr. Wheelock was usually present to witness the punishment, and to acid his solemn and kind admonition. He was generally obeyed from affection; but he knew how, by severe rebuke, to overawe the offender. The incorrigible he removed, lest they should contaminate others.

7. In the last place, he was a man of faith and prayer.

He believed in God’s word and relied on his promise. Amidst difficulties, he never desponded, for he was satisfied that he was engaged in a good work, which God approved, and he felt assured therefore of the divine blessing. He had an unshaken confidence in the great Jehovah. To him, in obedience to his command, he made continually his supplication, and sought his benediction on his labors. Before setting out on a journey, he always prayed with his family and students. He often set apart certain seasons for prayer. A concert of prayer, when two of his missionaries were going out to the Ohio, was proposed by him to them and his pupils,—that "beside daily remembrance of one another at the throne of grace, they might spend special seasons Saturday and Sabbath evenings, between 6 and 7 o’clock, in prayer to God for his protection, presence, and blessing upon them, and on all missionaries, gone to proclaim salvation to the heathen."

Knowing the power of prayer, he says, at the close of his last narrative, in 1775,—. "I believe I have found the benefit of the prayers of many of the lovers of Zion for this institution, and I earnestly bespeak the continuance of them, that God would graciously perfect what is yet wanting, and build it up for the glory of his own great name." For all colleges Christians may well incessantly pray.

His last act was an act of prayer, before uttering his final words, "Oh, my family, be faithful unto death." It cannot be doubted, that he was faithful, and has gone to inherit the promised reward in heaven. On his monument, as on that of the martyr, Polycarp of Smyrna, might well be engraven a circular wreath or crown of olive-leaves, to denote his immortal crown ; and well may the words of Christ to the church of Smyrna come with force to the heart of every reader of this memoir,—" BE THOU FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH, AND I WILL GIVE THEE A CROWN OF LIFE!"

CONDUCTED BY

PRINTED BY PERKINS & MARVIN.

1840.

The text of this and other superb works are available on-line from:

The Willison Politics and Philosophy Resource Center

http://willisoncenter.com/

Reprint and digital file December 9, 2000.

This document was scanned from an original copy of the American Education Society’s Quarterly Register, which served as a digest of the diverse facets in American Education and its outflowing effects worldwide. The society was comprised of leading Harvard, Yale, Dartmouth and Princeton Alumni, and served to promote the work both in the U.S. and abroad for educating the people in the Reformation’s worldview of the Bible serving as the only infallible rule of life, which, of course, was the purpose for which these schools were founded.

Letter from Hon. John Quincy Adams

[ 6^th President of the United States, 1825-1829. Ed. ]

We have been kindly permitted to take a copy of a letter addressed by Mr. ADAMS to the officers of a literary society in Baltimore. It will be read with great interest, and is certainly a very admirable paper of its kind. Baltimore Chronicle.

Gentlemen :—I have no words to express my gratitude for the kind feelings and more than friendly estimate of my character contained in your letter of the 9th instant, and am not less at a loss for language to utter the humiliation of a deep conviction how little your panegyric has been deserved.

Were it even so far deserved that I could feel myself qualified to give you the advice which you desire, it would afford rue the most heartfelt pleasure to give it, but, situated in life as you represent yourselves to be, I could scarcely name any list of books, or of authors, which I could recommend as equally worthy of attention to you all. The first, and almost the only book, deserving such universal recommendation, is THE BIBLE,—and, in recommending that, I fear that some of you will think I am performing a superfluous, and others a very unnecessary office—yet such is my deliberate opinion. The Bible is the book, of all others, to be read at all ages, and in all conditions of human life; not to be read once or twice or thrice through, and then to be laid aside but to be read in small portions of one or two chapters, every day, and never to be intermitted, unless by some overruling necessity.

This attentive and repeated reading of the Bible, in small portions every day, leads the mind to habitual meditation upon subjects of the highest interest to the welfare of the individual in this world, as well as to prepare him for that hereafter to which we are all destined. It furnishes rules of conduct for our conduct towards others in our social relations. In the commandments delivered from Sinai, in the inimitable sublimity of the Psalms and of the Prophets, in the profound and concentrated observations upon human life and manners embodied in the Proverbs of Solomon, in the philosophical allegory so beautifully set forth in the narrative of facts, whether real or imaginary, of the Book of Job, an active mind cannot peruse a single chapter and lay the book aside to think, and take it up again to-morrow, without finding in it advice for our own conduct, which we may turn to useful account in the progress of our daily pilgrimage upon earth; and when we pass from the Old Testament to the New, we meet at once a system of universal morality founded upon one precept of universal application, pointing us to peace and goodwill towards the whole race of man for this life, and to peace with God, and an ever-blessed existence hereafter.

My friends, if all or any of you have spiritual pastors to guide you in the paths of salvation, do not imagine that I am encroaching upon the field of their appropriate services. I speak as a man of the world to men of the world, and I say to you, Search the Scriptures! If ever you tire of them in seeking for a rule of faith and a standard of morals, search them as records of history. General and compendious history is one of the fountains of human knowledge to which you should all resort with steady and persevering pursuit. The Bible contains the only authentic introduction to the history of the world; and in storing your minds with the facts of this history, you will immediately perceive the need of assistance from geography and chronology. These assistances you may find in many of the Bibles published with commentaries, and you can have no difficulty in procuring them. Acquaint yourselves with the chronology and geography of the Bible; that will lead you to a general knowledge of chronology and of geography, ancient and modern, and these will open to you an inexhaustible fountain of knowledge respecting the globe which you inhabit, and respecting the race of men (its inhabitants) to which you yourselves belong. You may pursue these inquiries just so far as your time and inclination will permit. Give one hour of mental application, (for you must not read without thinking, or you will read to little purpose,) give an hour of joint leading and thought to the chronology, and one to the geography of the Bible, and, if it introduces you to too hard a study, stop there. Even for those two hours you will ever after read the Bible, and any other history, with more fruit—more intelligence—more satisfaction. But, if those two hours excite your curiosity, and tempt you to devote part of an hour every (lay for a year or years, to study thoroughly the chronology and geography of the Bible, it will not only lead you far deeper than you will otherwise ever penetrate into the knowledge of the book, but it will spread floods of light upon every step you shall ever afterwards take in acquiring the knowledge of profane history, and upon the local habitation of every tribe of man, and upon the name of every nation into which the children of Adam have been divided.

There are many other subsidiary studies to which you may devote more or less of time, for the express purpose of making your Bible reading more intelligible to you selves. It is a book which neither the most ignorant and weakest, nor the most learned and intelligent mind can read without improvement.

I remain your friend and fellow-student

for life, J. Q. ADAMS.

Messrs. LEWIS AUDOUN, H. D. McCulloch, and C. L. L. LEARY, a committee of the Franklin Association of Baltimore.

THE DIRECTORS

OF THE

PRESENTED AT THE ANNUAL MEETING,

HELD IN THE

WITH THE CONSTITUTION AND RULES OF THE SOCIETY.

PRINTED BY PERKINS & MARVIN.

1840.

The text of this and other superb works are available on-line from:

The Willison Politics and Philosophy Resource Center

http://willisoncenter.com/

Reprint and digital file December 9, 2000.

This document was scanned from an original copy of the American Education Society’s Quarterly Register, which served as a digest of the diverse facets in American Education and its outflowing effects worldwide. The society was comprised of leading Harvard, Yale, Dartmouth and Princeton Alumni, and served to promote the work both in the U.S. and abroad for educating the people in the Reformation’s worldview of the Bible serving as the only infallible rule of life, which, of course, was the purpose for which these schools were founded.

HON. SAMUEL HUBBARD, LL. D., PRESIDENT

WILLIAM BARTLETT, ESQ., VICE PRESIDENT.

Hon. JOHN COTTON SMITH, LL. D. Sharon, Ct.

Rev. ASHBEL GREEN, D. D., LL. D. Philadelphia.

Rev. JEREMIAH DAY, D. D., LL. D. Pres. Yale College.

Rev. ELIPHALET NOTT, D. D., LL. D. Pres. Union College.

Rt. Rev. ALEXANDER V. GRISWOLD, D. D. Boston.

Rev. JOSHUA BATES, D. D. Middlebury.

Rev. HENRY DAVIS, D. D. Clinton, N. Y.

Rev. DANIEL DANA, D. D. Newburyport, Ms.

Rev. WILLIAM ALLEN, D. D. Northampton, Ms.

Rev. NATHANAEL EMMONS, D. D. Franklin, Ms.

Rev. JAMES RICHARDS, D. D. Prof. Theol. Seminary, Auburn.

Rev. LYMAN BEECHER, D. D. Pres. Lane Seminary.

Rev. HEMAN HUMPHREY, D. D. Pres. Amherst College.

Rev. NATHAN LORD, D. D. Pres. Dartmouth College.

Rev. FRANCIS WAYLAND, D. D. Pres. Brown University.

Rev. LEONARD WOODS, D. D. Prof. Theol. Seminary, Andover.

Rev. JAMES M. MATTHEWS, D. D. New York.

Rev. SERENO B. DWIGHT, D. D. New Haven, CL

Rev. JOSEPH PENNY, D. D. Pres. Hamilton College.

Rev. JOHN WHEELER, D. D. Pres. University of Vermont.

Hon. THEODORE FRELINGHUYSEN, LL. D. Chanc. N. Y. Univ.

Rev. ROBERT H. BISHOP, D. D. Pres. Miami University.

Rev. GEORGE E. PIERCE, D. D. Pros. Western Reserve College.

Rev. BENNET TYLER, D. D. Pros. Connecticut Theol. Institute.

Rev. ENOCH POND, D. D. Prof. Theol. Seminary, Bangor.

Rev. EDWARD BEECHER, Pres. Illinois College.

Rev. JUSTIN EDWARDS, D. D. Pres. Theol. Seminary, Andover.

Rev. THOMAS McAULEY, D. D. New York.

Rev. BROWN EMERSON, D. D. Rev. RALPH EMERSON, D. D.

Hon. SAMUEL T. ARMSTRONG. Rev. EBENEZER BURGESS,D.D.

Rev. JOHN CODMAN, D. D. Rev. GEORGE W. BLAGDEN.

Rev. WM. COGSWELL, D. D. I

HARDY ROPES, Esq., Treasurer. Hon. PLINY CUTLER, Auditor.

Rev. JOHN CODMAN, D. D. Rev. GEORGE ~V. BLAGDEN,

Rev. WILLIAM JENKS, D. D. and the SECRETARY.

Rev. JOY H. FAIRCHILD.

JOHN TAPPAN, Esq.

HON. WILLIAM J. HUBBARD, and the TREASURER

Hon. SAMUEL T. ARMSTRONG.

[ The following is a short history as quoted in the Twenty-Third Annual Report of 1839, Ed.]

After remarking, "The harvest truly is plenteous, but the laborers are few," the Saviour enjoined upon his disciples, "Pray ye, therefore, the Lord of the harvest, that he will send forth laborers into his harvest." In obedience to this injunction, efforts have been made by individuals and associations, to raise up and send forth spiritual reapers; but the work has never been prosecuted with that zeal which its importance demands. In this country, limited and local associations, rather indefinite in their character, but having principally in view the education of indigent pious young men for the Christian ministry, had existed here and there, especially in the neighborhood of some of our colleges and literary institutions; but there was no large association of the kind previous to the establishment of the American Education Society. Something more comprehensive and efficient seemed to be needed; and this Society was accordingly formed to meet the exigency. The reason then of its formation, was the great and increasing demand for pious and learned ministers of the gospel.

The first formal and systematic efforts in Boston and vicinity, to assist pious, indigent young men in obtaining an education for the ministry, were made by females. March 26, 1815, an association of ladies was formed, and called "The Education Society of Boston and Vicinity." The second and eighth articles of their Constitution were— "The object of the Society, is to aid such indigent and pious youth as may be received under the stated care of the Directors in acquiring a classical education with a view to the gospel ministry."— "No candidate is to be taken under the care of the Board but such as give evidence of distinguished talents and piety, and exhibit a sound and orthodox faith, according to that excellent summary of Christian doctrines contained in the Westminster Assembly’s Shorter Catechism, nor to be continued under the care of the Board, longer than they preserve such character and faith."

LL. D., Rev. Abiel Holmes, D. D., Rev. Ebenezer Porter, Rev. Joshua

Bates, Rev. Leonard Woods, D. D. , William Thurston, Esq., Henry Gray, Esq.,

Dea. John E. Tyler, Mr. John Jenks, and Rev. Moses Stuart, were elected as this Committee.

"Voted, That this meeting be adjourned, to meet on Thursday preceding the next Commencement at Cambridge, in the Vestry in Park Street Church, in Boston, at 9 o’clock, A. M."

According to adjournment, the Society met in the Vestry of Park Street Church, in Boston, on Thursday, August 29, 18] 5, at which time a Constitution was adopted, and the Society was formed.* The Society then adjourned to meet again, for the choice of officers, October 26—at which time a meeting was held, a sermon was delivered, and a collection taken in behalf of the object; but the organization of the Society by the choice of officers, was for important reasons still deferred.

The name of the Society at its formation, was, "The American Society for Educating Pious Youth for the Gospel Ministry;" and by this name it was incorporated and made a body politic by the General Court of Massachusetts, December 4, 1816. As this name was found to be inconvenient, a petition was preferred to the Legislature for its alteration; and, January 31, 1820, its name was changed to that of "The American Education Society." The articles of the Constitution in respect to membership, first adopted, were— "Any person who shall subscribe, and annually pay into the Treasury a sum, not less than five dollars, shall be a member of this Society; and shall be holden to make such payment, until by written notice to the Treasurer he shall have dissolved his connection with the Society; any clergyman, however, to whom, in his own opinion, it may be inconvenient to pay this sum, may be a member, who shall annually pay, as above, the sum of two dollars only; and should any member, for three successive years, neglect to pay his subscription, unless excused by the Society, his membership shall cease."

THE

PRINTED BY PERKINS & MARVIN.

1839.

The text of this and other superb works are available on-line from:

The Willison Politics and Philosophy Resource Center

http://willisoncenter.com/

Reprint and digital file March 7, 2002.

This document was scanned from an original copy of the American Education Society’s Quarterly Register, which served as a digest of the diverse facets in American Education and its outflowing effects worldwide. The society was comprised of leading Harvard, Yale, Dartmouth and Princeton Alumni, and served to promote the work both in the U.S. and abroad for educating the people in the Reformation’s worldview of the Bible serving as the only infallible rule of life, which, of course, was the purpose for which these schools were founded.

Dr. Appleton (b. 1772-d. 1819) served as Bowdoin's second president 1807-1819.

VOL. XI. AUGUST, 1838. No. 1.

MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT APPLETON.

SAMUEL APPLETON, a descendant of John Appleton, who died in 1436, came to America in 1635, and settled at Ipswich, Ms. He was born at Little Waldingfield, Suffolk, England, in 1586. He was admitted freeman in May, 1636, and was representative in 1637. He died in June, 1670, leaving five children. His son John, born at Little Waldingfield in 1622, was a representative from Ipswich nineteen years, and a captain. He was fined and imprisoned during the administration of Edmund Andros, for resisting the principle of taxation without representation. He died in 1700, aged 78. He married Priscilla, daughter of Rev. Jesse Glover, by whom he had two sons, John born 1652, and Jesse born 1660, a merchant of Boston. John, for twenty years judge of probate for Essex, married Elizabeth, daughter of President Rogers, and died in 1739, leaving two sons, Nathanel and Daniel, and three daughters. From Nathaniel, descended the Appletons of Portsmouth. Samuel Appleton, son of Samuel who emigrated to this country, was born at Little-Waldingfield in 1625, was representative, and in Philip’s war in 1676, was commander-in-chief of the forces. He married, first, Hannah daughter of William Paine, and, second, Mary daughter of John Oliver. He had four sons and three daughters. One of the sons, Isaac, had one son Isaac, and six daughters. Isaac died in Ipswich in 1794. One of his sons, Isaac of New Ipswich, N. H was the father of Samuel, Nathan and Ebenezer Appleton, eminent merchants of Boston. Another son, Francis, of New Ipswich, the father of President Appleton, died in January, 1816, aged 83* He was esteemed a truly excellent man, pious from early childhood, of vigorous intellect, and of a remarkably calm, sober disposition. He was a farmer in quite ordinary circumstances. So contracted, indeed, were his means, that his son, Jesse, was designed for a mechanic’s trade, had not the kind intervention of a brother promised to aid him in procuring a liberal education. His wife, the mother of the President, was a woman of strong mind and of devoted piety.

Jesse Appleton was born at New Ipswich, N. H., Nov. 17, 1772. He fitted for college in the academy of his native town , and in 1788, at the age of sixteen, entered Dartmouth College. He early gave promise of uncommonly amiable and delicate feelings, and of a vigorous intellect.

*For further particulars of the Appleton family, see Farmer’s Genealogical Register, p. 18.

10 MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT APPLETON.

In college, he sustained a high reputation as a scholar. Deficient in no department of the course, his preference was for those studies which address the taste. As a classical scholar and writer, he was regarded as inferior to no one in his class.* It appears that at this early period, he laid the foundation of those mental habits for which he was remarkable during his life. He passed, moreover, through the temptations of college without censure or reproach, always exhibiting that delicate sense of propriety and keen moral perception which characterized his mature years.

After he left college, he was employed, for nearly two years, as an instructor of youth at Dover and Amherst, N. H. in this occupation he was highly successful. His discriminating mind, his general loveliness of character, his delicate humor, and his engaging manners, made him the ornament of the social circle, he pursued his theological studies under the direction of the venerable and eminent Joseph Lathrop, D. D. of West Springfield.† His papers of this period, comprising dissertations on various topics of theology, give evidence that he was a diligent and successful student. Few pupils in theology have won the confidence and affection of an instructor to so high a degree as did Mr. Appleton; and few returned that interest with such unmingled respect and love. Dr. Lathrop did not conceal the high hopes which he cherished of the future usefulness and eminence of his pupil. Mr. Appleton maintained, until the death of his preceptor, an uninterrupted correspondence with him, consulting him freely on the many perplexing subjects relating both to doctrine and the pastoral relation, which present themselves in the labors and studies of an active minister.

*Among his classmate, were the Rev. Dr. Porter of Andover, Rev. Zephaniah Swift of Derby, Ct., Hon. William H. Woodward, Treasurer of Dartmouth College, Rev. Joel Baker of Granville, Rev. Jonathan Ward of Plymouth, N. H., etc.

† See American Quarterly Register, x. 403, and Rev. Dr. W. B. Sprague Historial Sermon.

‡ Thus Mr. Farmer, American Quarterly Register, vi. 239. in Prof Packard’s Life of Jesse Appleton, the date is February, 1797. The preceding ministers at Hampton were Stephen Bachiler, Timothy Dalton, John Wheelwright, Seaborn and John Cotton, Nathaniel Gookin, Ward Cotton and Ebenezer Thayer.

11. MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT APPLETON.

first sought to explore the whole field of theological learning, not from motives of ambition, but rather from an ardent love of truth and a deep sense of his accountability for the use he made of the powers which had been given him, and of his means of improvement and usefulness. By the time he left Hampton, he was a theologian accomplished beyond his years.

Mr. Appleton was married in 1800 to Elizabeth, daughter of the Hon. Robert Means of Amherst, N. H.* In her he found a friend worthy of the connection, which for nearly twenty years so happily subsisted between them. They had six children, three sons and three daughters. The youngest child, a son, was very suddenly taken from them, when three years old, in October, 1817. The eldest son, a graduate of Bowdoin College, while pursuing the study of the law, under the charge of Stephen Fancy, Esq. of Cincinnati, Ohio, was seized by an attack of bilious fever, and died in October, 1830. Many cheering promises and fond hopes were thus suddenly cut off. The other children are still living. One of them is the wife of Prof. Alpheus S. Packard of Bowdoin College.

Mr. Appleton, while at Hampton, was a trustee of Phillips Academy, Exeter, and in that office manifested much activity, He was especially interested in the subject of theological education. While a parish minister, he directed the studies of several persons who were pursuing a course of theological education, and never failed of securing the highest respect and affection of his pupils. In 1803, he was one of the most prominent candidates for the chair of theology at Cambridge, an election in which the deepest interest was felt, and as the result of which Dr. Ware was chosen.

Mr. Appleton entered on his ministry, he had not formed settled opinions on some topics of theology. In a discourse delivered February 22, 1807, he remarks " In reviewing the ten years of my ministry, if any cause of self congratulation is presented, there are abundant causes of self-reproach. I have, indeed, from the beginning, preached what I believed to be the leading truths of the Bible; and if I have, of late years, insisted more than formerly, on some of its peculiar doctrines, it is because the importance of these doctrines has risen in my apprehension." Some of the more abstruse and perplexing topics of our faith he does not appear to have discussed in his sermons. This is in part, doubtless, to be ascribed to his habitual caution in the expression of opinions, which were not the result of long, patient and profound reflection and investigation. As a preacher, he was entirely free from all display of learning or study of effect. His manner was chaste, dignified, earnest and very impressive. Most of his sermons were written while he was at Hampton. Though designed for the people of a secluded parish, they were prepared with great care and accuracy. He made it a rule to write but one sermon a week. Monday being devoted to pastoral visits, he was accustomed to begin his sermon on Tuesday and end it on Friday. He also meditated his prayers. He diligently stored his mind with a great variety of materials adapted to all the occasions of pastoral duty. Those who heard him conduct the public devotions, were impressed with the profound reverence, the elevation, fervor and copiousness which characterized them.

* Mr. Means was one of the more respected merchants in the State. He died Jan. 24, 1823, in the 81st year of his age. He was born in the province of Ulster, Ireland, Aug.28, 1742. He came to this country in 1766, and acquired a large property. He married Mary, daughter of Rev. David McGregore of Londonderry. They had sons Thomas, David McGregore and Robert; and daughters, Mary, wife of Hon. Jeremiah Mason of Boston, Elizabeth, Nancy wife of Amos Lawrence of Boston, Jane and Mary Ann, who died in 1804 and 1824.—5 Coll. New Hampshire Historical Society, p. 103.

12 MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT APPLETON.

Besides the composition of his sermons, he also contributed to some of the religious periodical publications of the time. He was instrumental in establishing a work called the Piscataqua Evangelical Magazine, which was conducted by a number, of clergymen associated for the purpose. He was also an able contributor to the Panoplist, chiefly on points of doctrine. His favorite signatures were Leighton and Owen.

In 1807, on the decease of the Rev. Dr. McKeen, the first President of Bowdoin College, Mr. Appleton was chosen his successor. After much and anxious deliberation, he concluded to accept the appointment. He was inaugurated in December, 1807, and entered immediately on the duties of his office. He thus exchanged a life of comparative quiet, for one of unceasing solicitude and oftentimes of embarrassment and perplexity. The office of President of any of our colleges, at any time, is not one of mere literary ease and honor. But in the early part of the present century, there were certain habits prevalent in society, which made the office in question one of peculiar perplexity and hardship. Ardent spirits, then a very common beverage, were the source of innumerable troubles in college, and were not infrequently the cause of the utter ruin of some of the most promising scholars. Bowdoin College was then in its infancy, situated in a remote part of New England, in a district of an older and somewhat distant State. The value of a liberal education was not, at that time, so generally appreciated, its advantages being confined to a great extent to the sons of the rich. The funds of the college were, moreover, small and in an embarrassed state. A large part of them consisted of unproductive lands in the wilderness.

President Appleton, however, undertook the labors of his office with alacrity, and gave to them all his energies. " On entering college," he remarked in his Inaugural Address, " a student does, in fact, form a contract with the governors of the institution. They promise to instruct and guard him with parental care; he, on his part, stipulates obedience to the laws, docility, application and correct habits. When every transgression and disobedience receives a just recompence of reward, there is no cause of complaint; nothing takes place but what, at the time of entering, into the agreement, it was understood should take place." Further on he remarks: "I tremble under the solemn conviction of the high accountability of that office on which I am entering—a conviction that the usefulness of the students in time, and their character through eternity, may be affected, greatly affected, by the manner in which the executive officers of college discharge their duty."

President Appleton brought to his work a deep sense of responsibility both for the literary reputation, and the moral and religious welfare of those under his care. He also possessed great integrity, firmness, discretion, true love of learning, cultivated taste, and a delicacy and refinement of character, which are hardly ever surpassed. Such a man could not but gain the respect and affection both of the students and of his associates in the government.

There being no professor of intellectual and moral philosophy, or of rhetoric and oratory, the care of these departments devolved, for the most part, upon president Appleton, and during the greater portion of his official career, he conducted the exercises of the students in both of them. Instruction in Butler’s Analogy and in Paley’s Evidences, was always his peculiar province. His decided predilection for those studies which relate to the intellectual and moral nature of man, imparted to the recitations in those departments, as conducted by him, a high degree of interest and

13 MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT APPLETON.

success. The text-books, besides the two just mentioned, were Locke on the Human Understanding, and Dugald Stewart’s Elements of intellectual Philosophy. Mr. Appleton never permitted himself to enter the class—room without having thoroughly investigated the subject of the lesson. He usually conducted such investigations with pen in hand; and to insure precision and clearness on his part, he was accustomed to write his questions in the margin of his book. These were framed with much care and skill, so as to fix the attention more on the subject under discussion, than on the author. The students well knew, that ignorance or sloth could not escape the severe scrutiny they were obliged to undergo. The recitation in Butler’s Analogy, in particular, can never be forgotten by the pupils of president Appleton. The most severe and trying exercise in the whole range of the collegiate course, it was nevertheless always anticipated with deep interest, as one which would open new fields of thought, of great importance to the development of mental and moral character. This anticipation was cherished, riot only on account of the inestimable value of the text-book, but also on account of the well-known interest, and the profound insight of the great topics brought into discussion, always exhibited by the instructor. It may be said with truth, that his patient assiduity and skill gave to the majority of his classes a clear apprehension of the great truths of the Analogy, as well as a familiarity with them, far beyond what would be generally supposed.

President Appleton was fond of classical studies, and read the best authors, both Latin and Greek, with accuracy and taste. He took a deep interest in this department of the college course, and excelled as an instructor in it. At different times, he heard the recitations in most of the Latin and Greek authors at that period read in our colleges, and his manner of conducting these exercises was marked by the peculiarities already have been already noted. To the passage he always gave a thorough examination ; minute accuracy in the forms and syntax was required, as also in the prosody, a point then and now too much neglected. The partiality of the President for Livy, was proverbial among the students, who were wont to say, that were an edict published, requiring all other books to he destroyed, next after the Bible, with Butler in one pocket, and Livy in another, he would be content.

President Appleton had excellent habits as an instructor. No languor, no indifference, no disposition to hurry through a task, was ever apparent in him. he was remarkably punctual. Nothing but urgent necessity prevented him from being in his place at the appointed time. His uncommon dignity of manner, his superior powers of intellect, his thorough scholarship and pure taste, with the entire absence of all parade and affectation, always commanded the utmost confidence and respect of the students. His manner, though dignified, was kind and conciliating. His success in communicating instruction was correspondent to his eminent qualifications. "That the peculiar character of his intellect was not unfelt in the seminary," remarks the Rev. Dr. Nichols of Portland, "is evidenced, in no slight degree, by the comments which gentlemen of intelligence have so often made upon the literary performances of those who were educated under his care. Sobriety, good sense, and manly expression, have generally distinguished these exhibitions to an extent, it may some times have been deemed, not only unusual, but premature; an opinion doubtless just, had the more essential excellencies of composition, which have been mentioned, been cultivated, to the neglect of his imagination."

14 MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT APPLETON.

President Appleton had great uniformity and firmness in administering the discipline of the institution. So far as was practicable, he maintained a familiar acquaintance with the standing of every student ; so that whenever there were appearances of deterioration in any one, the proper remedy might be promptly applied. His supervision of the operations of the whole system was universal and unremitting. His warnings and counsels, conveyed with parental solicitude and kindness, not unfrequently excited feelings of the liveliest gratitude, of which he subsequently received many testimonials. Near the end of his life he declared that he had never repented a decision in regard to college discipline, except in one instance, when he yielded to the wishes of his associates, and the event proved, that the opinion which he had previously formed was correct. His interest in the students was not confined to official intercourse. Many can recall to mind frequent acts of kindness, always conferred in the most delicate manner, experienced from him and his family. The sick were cheered by their active sympathy, and, in some instances, even where there was no peculiar claim, were taken to his house and nursed with tender care.

Dr. Appleton, from the first, conducted an exercise in the Scriptures on Sabbath evening in the chapel, in which all the students participated. Several volumes of his questions, in manuscript, used on these occasions, interspersed with occasional remarks, and prepared with characteristic care, are yet preserved. Most of his theological lectures, delivered in the chapel, on Thursday afternoon, are preserved in the college library, in three bound volumes.

His private journal shows how absorbing was his interest in the moral and: religious welfare of the college. Under date of July 17, 1808, he says: "1 had hopes that my preaching might be the occasion of exciting some serious attention among the students. I have used some exertion with that design. Hitherto an infinitely wise and holy God has not seen fit to give any success. Every effort seems to have failed. But it is all right. 0 God, thou hast done well. Many whose shoes I am not worthy to unloose have met greater discouragements. I would not yet despond. I would yet hope in God. To human apprehension, what amazing good would result from a revival of religion at this college! It would be communicated to the people here, and, through the students, to places far distant. But surely God has a more comprehensive view of matters than I have, and my ignorance cannot direct his infinite wisdom. Lord, enable me to do my duty!" Again, Oct. 10, 1813: "As to the college, the dealings of God have been mysterious. A year since Mr. Southgate* was here, lull of zeal and Christian excellence. He made great exertions for the salvation of the students. From these exertions I had much hope. But God has been pleased, in infinite wisdom, I doubt not, to remove him. He fell sweetly asleep in Jesus. C—, a pious student, where is he? Sick, and I fear will never return. 0 God, thy footsteps are not known. Righteous are thou, when I plead with thee, when I talk of thy judgements. We have recently admitted one pious student, and hope for another. 0 Lord, how much does he need divine support! I pray thee, 0 God, to give him ardent, but well-regulated zeal! Give him prudence, cheerfulness and resolution. Lord, send us more of this character. Excite Christians to pray for us, and to use their influence for us. But what is their influence without thine?"

* See American Quarterly Register, viii. 115.

15 ] MEMOIR 0F PRESIDENT APPLETON.

mercies, which still continue in abundance, God has been pleased, as I trust, to visit several of the students with his saving health. We do hope, that at least six of the number have been transformed by the renewing of the mind. A few others are serious, but we fear concerning them. The seriousness has been attended with silent but deep anxiety, which has gradually given way to hope—a hope, feeble and intermitting, but slowly acquiring strength. This is a great thing, a very great thing. It is what we hare been long praying and longing for. To be sure, we did, a few weeks ago, hope that more would be done. But blessed be God that he has done so much. A third of the students, or very nearly that proportion, it is now hoped, are pious. It is but a little while since we had none of this description. When I review what I wrote Oct. 10,1813, and compare the state of college then with what it is now, I am constrained to say, that the Lord hath done great things! Oh may those, who hope that Christ is formed in them, manifest, by the suavity of their temper, and the purity and prudence and holiness of their lives, the power and excellence of religion!"

This solicitude for the students was never more apparent than at the annual commencements. On no occasion did he appear to so much advantage himself. Apart from his anxiety in respect to the bearing which the exercises might have upon the reputation of the college, he made it evident by his prayers, and especially by the address which he was accustomed to deliver to the graduating class at the close of the exercises before conferring the degrees, that he sympathized with his pupils who were just about to leave his care, with minds excited by the circumstances of the occasion, and full of hope and joy. his solicitude, indeed, for the college never slumbered.

In addition to the perplexing cares and the multiplied labors of the presidency, Dr. Appleton preached much, and discharged a great amount of pastoral duty for the Congregational society in Brunswick. His presence was sought in ecclesiastical councils, especially when perplexing questions were likely to occur. That his services were highly valued, was evident by the frequency with which they were solicited. Within a few years, he was invited to preach, not only before the Bible, Missionary, Education and Peace Societies of Maine, and repeatedly at meetings of citizens, associated to suppress immoralities and to promote the better observance of the Sabbath, but also before the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, of which he was a member, before the Legislature of Massachusetts at the annual election, before the Convention of the Congregational clergy of Massachusetts, before the Massachusetts Society for the Suppression of Intemperance, and, had his health permitted, he would in the year in which he died, have addressed the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge. He also preached several ordination sermons. He received the honorary degree of Doctor in Divinity from Dartmouth College, and, in 1810, the same honor from Harvard University. He was a member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences.

But we have now reached the close of his honorable and useful life. The effects of his excessive labors and his habits of unremitted application, upon a system which was not invigorated and refreshed by useful exercise, soon became too apparent. About the time of his losing a very dear son, in October, 1817, he took a severe cold, from the effects of which he never entirely recovered. No serious apprehensions were, however, entertained respecting him until early in 1819, when, greatly to the concern of his personal friends, and the friends of the college, he gave too plain indications

16 MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT APPLETON.

of the assaults of disease. His complaints were a slight cold, great hoarseness and debility. His symptoms indicated a disease of the larynx, which advanced with fearful rapidity. He was unable to preside in the college exhibition in May. It was hoped that a journey which he took in the spring vacation, as far as Amherst, N. H., would produce a favorable change. From this place he addressed a letter to the students, full of the tenderest affection and the most impressive warnings. He soon after returned to Brunswick, his health not essentially improved. During the summer and the first part of autumn, hopes of his restoration were at times indulged. On the 12th of October, a profuse hemorrhage rendered his recovery entirely hopeless.

It was mercifully ordered, that his illness should not be attended with severe pain; and that until the last few days of his life, he should be in the entire possession of his understanding. He enjoyed in a greater degree than in health, the consolations and hopes of the gospel. He often said, " Of this I am sure, that salvation is all of grace." " I would make no mention of any thing which I have ever thought, or said, or done; but only of this, that God so loved the world as to give his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish but have everlasting life. The atonement is the only ground of hope." In general, I am quite comfortable; but not uniformly so, though I have seldom what may be called distress or great anxiety. I have sometimes sweet views of God’s holy providence. But I am, indeed, a poor sinner, lying at the foot of sovereign mercy. Most emphatically, and from my soul, do I renounce all hope in any thing done by myself as a ground of justification. I fly, I fly with my whole soul to the blood of a crucified Saviour." In a letter of July 1st to the Rev. Dr. Tappan of Augusta, he writes: "I am not indifferent to life. How can I be with such a family as I have; so young and so dependent on parental attention and guidance? But the event is with God; and I hope, that I am willing it should be so. I am not very anxious as to the event. I hope it is my desire that Christ may be honored, whether by my life or by my death" In an interview with a ministerial friend, he says : " I have been the happiest man in the world in my domestic connections. I have endeavored faithfully to instruct my children, and they have conducted so as greatly to endear themselves to me. I shall leave them but little property, but they will be in the hands of Him who made them. God has been uniformly good to me all my life, and it would now be very unreasonable for me to be unwilling to obey his summons." From the window of his chamber he frequently looked at the college buildings. One day, while fixing his eye upon them, he exclaimed, "Precious objects have ye been to me, but I resign you all for my God." The inquiry was made, if he did not find satisfaction in the thought, that the happiness of heaven would never end. " Connect with it," he replied, "the thought of perfect holiness, and it is a glorious thought indeed." At another time, after exclaiming, " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive glory, and honor, and riches, and blessing," he added, "there is joy in that song." Again, he declared, that he had most vivid and affecting apprehensions of the loveliness of the Saviour, and that in secret communion with him he often found himself using such expressions as "dear Jesus." [ Boldface added, Willison ed.] " You know," said he, "I do not approve of such modes of address; but my views of his preciousness at times are so overpowering, that I feel constrained to adopt them."

During the greater part of the last five days, his mind was somewhat disordered; although at times he appeared perfectly rational, and uttered

17 MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT APPLETON.

many interesting expressions. At length, after a long and painful struggle, about eight o’clock in the evening, Nov. 24, 1819, he fell asleep in Jesus. The knell of the chapel bell, which broke the stillness of the evening, announcing to the college family and the neighborhood his departure, fell with leaden weight on many hearts.

Every mark of respect was paid to his memory. A sermon was preached at his funeral by the Rev. Dr. Benjamin Tappan of Augusta. Prayers were offered by the Rev. Dr. Eliphalet Gillet of Hallowell. The body was deposited, with many sighs and tears, in the ancient cemetery, a mile south from the college plain. In the year following, it was removed to the new cemetery, opened in the pine grove in the rear of the colleges. A marble monument was erected over it by the Boards of college, with an appropriate Latin inscription prepared by Prof. Newman.

Soon after the death of President Appleton, a volume was published containing some of his theological lectures, and a few sermons, with a sketch of his life and character by Dr. Tappan of Augusta. Another volume, containing his Baccalaureate Addresses, was also published. In 1837, Messrs. Gould and Newman, of Andover, published in two large and elegant octavo volumes, The Works of President Appleton, embracing his course of Theological Lectures, his Academic Addresses, and a selection from his Sermons, with a Memoir of his Life and Character by Prof. Packard. To this well-prepared memoir we are principally indebted for the preceding brief sketch of Dr. Appleton’s life, as well as for the language in which it is communicated. These two volumes are among the richest presents which have ever been communicated to our religious public. For further particulars respecting President Appleton’s character, consult American Quarterly Register, vol. viii. p. 105, American Biblical Repository, vol. iii. p. 59, and a recent number of the Literary and Theological Review, where his works are reviewed by Dr. Tappan.

CONDUCTED BY

B. B. EDWARDS AND W. COGSWELL.

PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN EDUCATION SOCIETY.

BOSTON

1839

PRINTED BY PERKINS & MARVIN.

The text of this and other superb works are available on-line from:

The Willison Politics and Philosophy Resource Center

http://willisoncenter.com/

Reprint and digital file February 2, 2002.

This document was scanned from an original copy of the American Education Society’s Quarterly Register, which served as a digest of the diverse facets in American Education and its outflowing effects worldwide. The society was comprised of leading Harvard, Yale, Dartmouth and Princeton Alumni, and served to promote the work both in the U.S. and abroad for educating the people in the Reformation’s worldview of the Bible serving as the only infallible rule of life, which, of course, was the purpose for which these schools were founded.

Cortlandt Van Rensselaer, D.D., also cites Mount Holyoke Female Seminary, founded by Mary Lyons, as another beacon of light set up to bring solid education to women in the recently independent U.S. ( See our 1853 discourse by him given at Geneseo Academy )

We now bring our labors for another year to a close. We have been sustained by the hope that they are not altogether in vain. Other publications contain many articles which are more immediately interesting than the mass of those which are inserted in the American Quarterly Register. Our object is not so much to entertain the passing hour, as it is to collect and arrange materials for thought which will be permanently useful. Some of the articles inserted in the eleven volumes of our work will be of indispensable importance, we may presume to say, many years hence. They have been prepared with an exhausting amount of labor, and in some cases, from sources which arc exceedingly rare, and which will soon cease to exist. For instance, our excellent friend and fellow-laborer, John Farmer, Esq., who has, during the last year, gone down to the grave, was in the possession of stores of information, with much of which he enriched our pages, that will be sought in vain elsewhere, or at any future time. Invaluable records are frequently lost, or burned, and they inevitably decay in the lapse of time. In rescuing, therefore, some of this perishing information from utter loss, we cannot but feel that we are doing good service to our country, and to the churches of our Lord. We interfere with no other publication; we come into collision with no class of our fellow men. In the statistical department of our labor, our concern is not so much with the living, as it is with the pious and venerated dead—with the noble and sainted men, to whom, under God, we owe our inestimable civil and religious institutions.

We enter on the duties of another year with undiminished zeal. We hope, with the cooperation of several learned antiquaries and other estimable writers, to render the ensuing volume more worthy of patronage than either of its predecessors. We have a large amount of valuable materials in preparation, on a variety of subjects. If our labors shall contribute to the well-being of our country, to the diffusion of useful information, and especially to time raising up of a pious and efficient ministry, we shall have reason to be abundantly satisfied.

HISTORY

THE IPSWICH FEMALE ACADEMY was incorporated in February, 1828, and opened for the reception of young ladies in the month of April following. A building had been erected for purposes of education, three years before. This was done by subscription. Arrangements having been made in the winter of 1828, with Miss Z. P. Grant, then Principal of the Adams Female Academy at Derry, N. H., to open the building for a Female Seminary of a high order, the owners obtained an act of incorporation by the name of "The Proprietors of the Ipswich Academy." The entire management and control of their property was committed to a Board of Trustees, who were not to exceed thirteen, a majority of whom were to be proprietors. The academy building, however, was not to be leased for more than five years at one time, without the concurrence of the Proprietors. It had been expected that the stock would be profitable to the owners ; but the Trustees succeeded in obtaining the consent of the proprietors to lease the building to Miss Grant, free of rent. The conditions were, on her part, that she should furnish the requisite instruction, on her sole responsibility, and conduct the school on the plan before pursued at Derry, with such improvements as she might, from time to time, see fit to introduce and on theirs, that they should furnish such aid and co-operation as they could in carrying the design of the school into effect. Besides the building, the Trustees furnished a pair of very valuable globes, given them by a gentleman of Boston, and books to the value of $25, purchased with a donation of that sum from one of the Board. With these exceptions, all the books, apparatus and accommodations, have been furnished by the Principal of the school.

The principal features of the plan, on which the Adams Female Academy at Derry bad been conducted by Miss Grant, were as follows a thorough course of English studies, occupying three years; the arrangement of the pupils at entrance in three regular classes, each occupying a year; provision for devoting much time and attention to biblical study and instruction ; the exercise of the same care and supervision over the young ladies in and out of school, as if they were her own daughters; while certificates at the close, were given to those only, who had, on examination, furnished evidence of having gained a thorough

[ 1839 ] THE IPSWICH FEMALE SEMINARY. 369

knowledge of each study in the prescribed course. The Academy at Derry was continued on this plan four years.

As already mentioned, the Ipswich Female Seminary was opened in April, 1828. A primary department was connected with it from its commencement until the Autumn of 1831. None, however, were admitted into the department from abroad, under twelve, and very few from the town under ten years of age. Since 1831, it has been the established rule to receive none under fourteen, and in the winter term, very few have been received under sixteen. In the spring of 1831, the number of pupils from abroad was limited to a few over one hundred to be determined in a measure by the convenience with which they could be accommodated. In 1836, in addition to an established limitation as to age, a given amount of intellectual attainments began to be required. At present, it is important that those who are received should have a thorough acquaintance with mental and written Arithmetic, modern Geography, Watts on the Mind, the history of the United States, and Sullivan’s Political Class Book and should have made considerable proficiency in ancient Geography, and English Grammar.

The Trustees pledged themselves to provide the members of the school with accommodation in families, so that two ladies should have the exclusive occupancy of one room; and that in winter, not more than four should study by one fire. Since the spring of 1830, a house capable of accommodating thirty-three boarders, besides the family which has the care of it, has been occupied exclusively for the use of the school. The Principal and most of the teachers have usually boarded in this family, and its privileges have always been in great request. The conduct of the young ladies here, is of course, directly under the eye of the teachers. The care of engaging boarding places in town, and of assigning rooms and room-mates, belongs also exclusively to the teachers. This secures to them a great control over the influences operating on the pupils out of school. It is made the business of a particular teacher, to acquaint herself with the wants and wishes of the young ladies in regard to their boarding places, rooms and room-mates, and to make such arrangements for their personal comfort and accommodation, as if they were all members of the same family. Those who are in the boarding-house, and these who are not, bear to the Principal the same degree of responsibility ; and all have the same regular hours for meals, sleep, relaxation, exercise and study.

In April, 1835, an association was formed for the purpose of "assisting young ladies in the Ipswich Female Seminary, to qualify themselves for the business of education, and other benevolent labors in the cause of Christ." By the rules of the association, no person could receive aid, unless she had given evidence of piety for at least six months previous; had attained to eighteen years of age had already acquired more than a common school education, and had been successfully engaged in teaching; nor unless she possessed promising talents. For the first three years, the association extended aid to forty young ladies of promising intellectual powers, of high cultivation, and decided piety. The amount thus expended, was $4,291. Of the number thus aided, twenty were in April, 1838, employed in teaching, four were married, two were in feeble health, one deceased, and thirteen still in the course of’ education. Of the $4,294 loaned to these beneficiaries, the association was obliged to borrow $1,100, in consequence of the pressure of the times. The Hon. William B. Banister of Newburyport, is Secretary of the association ; and George W. Heard, Esq. of Boston, Treasurer.

The Principal furnishes the Institution with the use of two piano fortes, a chemical and philosophical apparatus, and a small mineralogical cabinet. The library of the Principal together with that of the Young ladies’ reading society, contains nine hundred volumes. The library of the reading society, is not attached to the Ipswich Female Seminary ; but is, by its constitution, placed at the disposal of the present Principal.

COURSE OF STUDY

STUDIES AND TEXT BOOKS.

Written Arithmetic Adam's

Algebra Bailey's and Day's

English Grammar Murray's

Modern and Ancient Geography, Woodbridge's Universal Geography and Atlas, and

Worcester's Ancient Atlas

History of the United States, Goodrich's

Government of the United States, Sullivan's Political Class Book

Botany, commenced Phelp's

Improvement of the mind Watt's

Rhetoric, commenced Newman's

English Grammar, continued

Rhetoric, concluded

Human Physiology.

Euclid's Geometry

Outline of Geology Mather's

Ecclesiastical History. Marsh's
Logic Whateley's
Natural Theology; Paley's

Moral Philosophy Wayland's

Analogy of Natural and Revealed Religion to Butler

the constitution and course of Nature,
Evidences of Christianity Alexander's

Of these studies, Algebra, Botany, human Physiology, Philosophy of Natural History, Butler’s Analogy, and the Evidences of Christianity, have been added to the course within the last ten years. This has been done by making some additions every year, when the Principal has been present to superintend in person. The course in history, Natural Philosophy, Rhetoric, and several other branches, has been considerably extended. Calisthenic exercises and vocal music have also been added to the course.

The year is divided into two terms, and two vacations. The first or summer term, commences the last Wednesday in May, and continues sixteen weeks. The second, or winter term, commences the last Wednesday in October, and continues twenty-four weeks. The regular time for admission into the school, is at the commencement of the summer and winter terms. The time for admission into the regular classes, is at the close of the academic year in April. Those, therefore, who are in school only during the summer term, never enter the regular classes. Each young lady at entrance, brings in a written statement of the studies she has previously pursued, and is thoroughly examined in such of them as belong to the regular course. The results of this examination, together with the written statement of the pupil, are recorded and preserved. At the close of the year in April, those who pass a thorough examination in the primary studies, or in such studies of the course as are equivalent to them, are admitted to the junior class. Those who are found to possess in addition, a thorough knowledge of the studies of the junior class, are admitted to the senior; and those who have passed in like manner, a strict examination in the studies of the senior class, besides all the preceding, receive a testimonial of having completed with honor the course of study in the Seminary. In recitation, the regular classes are not kept distinct; the pupils being arranged in temporary classes, as the greatest improvement of each and all requires.

Calisthenics exercises were introduced into the school in 1830. They were

[ 1839 ] THE IPSWICH FEMALE SEMINARY. 371

then limited to what is now denominated the first series. In the summer of 1833, another set of exercises was added, called the second series. In 1836, a third series was introduced, which is not ordinarily taken by any young lady during the first term of her attendance at school, nor before she has become familiar with the first and second series. With the exception of a few, who are averse to both mental and bodily effort, the course is attended to with increasing interest until its close. These exercises can be performed either with or without music. Much attention has been paid to calisthenics since their introduction into the school, and after eight years thorough use of the system, a high value is placed upon it, as a means of pleasant relaxation, and of promoting ease and gracefulness of motion.

PLANS OF GOVERNMENT AND INSTRUCTION.

The whole school is divided into several sections, with reference principally to age, but partly to maturity of character and habits. Each section is under the special care of a teacher, whose duty it is to be acquainted with the health, habits, intellectual improvement, and moral and religious state of every young lady in her section to attend to the investigation and recitation of a Bible lesson every week; to be the friend and adviser of each to interest herself in every thing that concerns their general improvement and in very many respects, to sustain the same relation to her section, as the Principal of a small school does to her pupils. She meets her section every day, usually at the close of school duties in the afternoon, to receive from each member an account of’ her performance of her duties in and out of school during the dry. Some social exercise usually enlivens these meetings of the superintendent with her section, which are then closed with grayer. The relation is fraught with lively interest and profit to both parties. These duties, however, are in some cases superseded by the Principal’s assuming the direct supervision of the conduct of the whole school.

At the opening of the Institution, the proportion of teachers to pupils, was intended to be as one to twenty, but after the introduction of vocal music, calisthenics, mezzotinto painting, and an extensive course of drawing, the proportion was increased to that of one to fifteen, and very few have been employed either as teachers or assistant pupils, who have not received a part, at least, of’ their education, at the Seminary. Besides cherishing towards the Principal a filial confidence and affection, they are fitted to enter heartily into her views, and are ready to co-operate vigorously with her in the execution of her plans. Each teacher is urged to aim at promoting the highest good of the pupils, as cheerfully as though they were her own sisters, and to avoid every unnecessary exposure of their faults and weaknesses. The established rule of the teachers, is, to refrain from conversation even with one another, respecting the defects of the pupils, unless the good of the individual or of the school requires it. Special care is taken to abstain from severe remarks concerning them, and from such as are suited to excite emotions of the ludicrous. In short,

the teacher’s duty is, to aid the pupils in correcting whatever is defective in their character and habits, and to make continued and persevering efforts for their highest moral and spiritual good.

[ 1839 ] THE IPSWICH FEMALE SEMINARY. 372

The study of the Bible holds a very prominent place, as a means of intellectual as well as of moral discipline. Exercises in it have sometimes been attended to daily. No other study receives so much attention during the year. There is always a biblical exercise on Monday morning, for the whole school, in which portions of the Scriptures are investigated, much as in a well conducted Bible class. Each pupil is required to bring to this exercise the result of not less than two hours private preparation. This biblical lesson is uniformly reviewed on some subsequent morning of the same week. In conducting these exercises, particular attention is paid to the biographical, historical and narrative parts of Scripture. The geography of the scene described, the manners and customs alluded to, the state of the country, and the traits and peculiarities of individual character are brought to view, so as in some degree to transport the pupil in imagination to the age and country in which the events occurred. The character and conduct of prominent individuals in scripture history, are particularly studied, and in all, the special aim is, to bring clearly to view the points of moral interest, and lessons of moral conduct, which the narratives involve, and to carry out the principles thus developed to their practical application, in the daily discharge of duty ; while all discussions of merely abstruse and useless questions mire avoided.

At the end of each week, or about every fourth or fifth lesson, the classes, instead of receiving a new lesson, review what they have recited during the week. When they have finished about one-fourth of a book, they review that fourth, arid in the same manner each succeeding fourth together with all that precedes. At the close, the whole study is reviewed. This done, no farther exercises are necessary to prepare the pupils for examination in any part of the book, or through the whole ; and no other preparation is made for the regular examinations of the school.

A powerful influence is exercised over the opinions and conduct of the pupils by familiar lectures from the Principal. These are given to the whole school several times a week. Instruction is thus given on a variety of points connected with health, dress, diet and exercise. The proprieties of life, the domestic qualifications requisite to perfect the female character, are exhibited in these lectures as only a lady could do it, in the presence of ladies alone. Many things, such as taking care of their own rooms, having their wardrobes in order, exercising daily in the open air, &c., are reduced to rules in these lectures, and come into the accounts mentioned heretofore. The subject of manners, including courtesy, personal appearance, &c., is freely discussed in these lectures. Conscience is brought to bear upon this object as upon every other. The pupils are taught that untidy dress, loud talking, awkward movements, and the like, detract from the comfort and happiness of their friends ; while correctness in these particulars, gives them a more happy personal influence, and enables them to promote more highly the enjoyment of all around thorn. They are led to see, that such carelessness is peculiarly injurious in educated ladies, and that its tendency is retrograde from civilization. A general desire for correctness of deportment being thus produced, principles are established, observation quickened, taste refined, and a foundation laid for continued improvement. Methods of study, motives to it, course of reading in after life, modes of teaching children, &c., are also among the great variety of topics embraced in these

lectures. Sometimes an outline of history, or a course on intellectual philosophy, is given to the whole school in this way.

From the commencement of the school until 1834, it was open almost daily for the reception of company, and many of its friends and patrons availed themselves of the opportunity to witness the common exercises. Since 1834, besides the opportunity of attending the daily exercises, company has been admitted to the regular examinations, which have been held near the middle, and just before the close of each term.

Such are the general plans and arrangements of the Seminary. In respect to details, there is great variety. The particular modes of conducting recitations, for example, vary from time to time, or are modified by the particular genius of the individual teacher, while steadiness of progress in the course

[ 1839 ] THE IPSWICH FEMALE SEMINARY. 375

prescribed, is at the same time carefully secured. No stimulus of emulation is employed, nor are the pupils encouraged to compare themselves with one another, or to fix their standard at any particular limit of excellence or attainment. The mind of each one is directed simply to the point of aiming at what she, as an individual ought to do, without regard to what she may have been accustomed to do, or to what those around her accomplish. Nor is it taken for granted, that the conscience is always enlightened, but special efforts are made to explain and illustrate the principles on which its decisions ought to be founded. In respect to attendance upon the religious and literary exercises of the school, and all other similar duties, the principle is adopted that they ought not to omit them, unless, from the state of the health or other reasons, it would be wrong to attempt to perform them. Thus the effort is made to subject every thing to the control of moral principle, and to form the character and regulate the habits and attainments, so as to make all subservient to the moral and religious welfare of the pupil.

The average number of pupils per term for four years in the Adams Female Academy was seventy-nine; for eleven years at Ipswich, one hundred and sixteen; including both for fifteen years, one hundred and six. The number of different pupils for the whole period, is one thousand six hundred and seventy-four, of whom forty-four attended both schools.

Of this whole number, have attended as follows:

One year or less, 192 1,020

One year to two years, 46 306

Two years to three years, 12 91

Three years to four years, 10 25

Over four years, 0 16

Whole number, 260 1,458

Have completed the course, 26 119

Weeks of term time in a year, 28 40 to 44

26 . • 119

28 . 40to44

Of the whole number at Ipswich, have been as follows

do. at the XVest, . .

do. at the South, • .

Of these eighty-eight teachers, continue teaching:

At home, (in feeble health, 1,) .
Deceased while teaching

400

57
• . 31—88

37

20

7

THE

Conducted by

Published by the American Education Society.

BOSTON:

PRINTED BY PERKINS, MARVIN, & CO.

The text of this and other superb works are available on-line from:

The Willison Politics and Philosophy Resource Center

http://willisoncenter.com/

Reprint and digital file March 16, 2002.

This document was scanned from an original copy of the American Education Society’s Quarterly Register, which served as a digest of the diverse facets in American Education and its out flowing effects worldwide. The society was comprised of leading Harvard, Yale, Dartmouth and Princeton Alumni, and served to promote the work both in the U.S. and abroad for educating the people in the Reformation’s worldview of the Bible serving as the only infallible rule of life, which, of course, was the purpose for which these schools were founded.

VOL. XI. MAY, 1839. No. 4.

FIRST PRESIDENT OF BROWN UNIVERSITY. *

By WILLIAM C. GODDARD, M. A., Professor of Belles Lettres in Brown University.]

A CENTURY has elapsed since the birth of Dr. Manning, and nearly half that portion of time since his death. Few, very few, of his contemporaries are now among the living upon earth. Not one of those liberal and enlightened friends of piety and learning, who helped to lay the foundations of Rhode Island College, and not one of the original members of its Corporation, forty-eight in number, are now alive to lend the aid of their recollections to this endeavor to place on record a few memorials of the life and character of James Manning. Of the Professors associated with him, the venerable Dr. Waterhouse, † of Cambridge, Ms., is the only survivor; and of the Tutors, all except the Hon. Asher Robbins ‡ of

* This institution was incorporated an "The College or University in the English Colony of Rhode Island;" and was, in common parlance, denominated Rhode Island College, till the year 1804, when, in consequence of a liberal donation from the Hon. Nicholas Brown, of Providence, the Corporation determined that it should be called, in all Future time, by the name of BROWN UNIVERSITY.’’

† This is gentleman. Distinguished in the medical history of this country , as the "American Jenner," warn born in Newport, R. I. His father, originally a Presbyterian, embraced the religious opinions of the Society of Friends, after he had reached mature life; and to those opinions he remained sincerely attached, till his death, at an advanced age. His son, to borrow his own language, was born and educated in the principles of liberal Quakerism.." He has, however, it is believed, never adopted the peculiarities of that quite and useful sect, nor has he,, for many years, been accustomed to unite with them in their religions worship. Dr. Waterhouse never received a collegiate education; but few of our countrymen have been more frequently honored by distinctions from literary and scientific bodies, at home and abroad. That his early academical training wan not neglected, is evident from his various publications, some of which evince a familiarity with the earned languages. He was a pupil of the celebrated Dr. Fothergill, of London, and he subsequently pursued his medical studies at the famous schools at Edinburgh and Leyden. From the Leyden school, he received the degree of Doctor in Medicine. In 1783, he was appointed Professor of the Theory and Practice of medicine in Harvard University, and he continued to preform the duties of that Chair, for the period of nearly thirty years. This was among the earliest medical schools established in this country; and of the original Professors, Dr. Waterhouse alone survives. From 1782 to 1795, Dr. Waterhouse was a member of the Board Fellows of Rhode Island College, and, in that capacity, he seldom failed in attending its annual Commencements. In 1784, he was elected Professor of Natural History in the same institution, , and, while occupying this chair, he delivered, in the State House in Providence, the first course of lectures upon that science ever delivered in the United States. The benevolent and intrepid agency of Dr. Watehouse in introducing vaccination into this country, is too fresh in the public recollection, to need more than a passing allusion. Among his works which he has published, may be noted, most particularly, an elaborate and ingenious essay, in one octavo volume, which is intended to show that Lord Chatham was the author of the celebrated Letters of Junius. Dr. Waterhouse, we are pleased to add, is still living; and, though he is advanced in the pale of life, his spirits are cheerful, and his mind is gratefully occupied in those intellectual pursuitsto which, in the more active seasons of life, he was devoted.

‡ This early friend and official associate of Dr. Manning was born in Connecticut, and wasgraduated at Yale College in 1782. Soon after he completed his collegiate education, he was elected a Tutor in Rhode Island College. While, for the term of seven years, he was thus occupied in quickening the diligence of his pupils, and in imbuing their minds with a genuine relishfor the varied forms of classical beauty, he sought every opportunity to cultivate his own taste for theclassics, and, indeed, for every species of elegant learning. After resigning his Tutorship, he studied law under the late Hon. William Channing, of Newport, and, at that time, the Attorney-General of Rhode Island. Mr. Robbins, established himself at Newport in the practice of the law, and there he has ever since resided. In his profession, he soon attained a high rank, as a well-read lawyer, and as an advocate, gifted in no humble measure, with powers of luminous, acute and logical argumentation.. For the last fourteen years, he has represented, with acknowledged ability, the State of Rhode Island in the Senate of the United States. In the debate, of that body he has not often participated; but on no occasion has he addressed the Senate, without leaving upon the mind, of all who hrearrl trite a decided impression of high intellectual powers and accomplishments—of his ability as a statesman, and his acquisitions an a scholar. To the ancient classics, the Greek more especially, he is still ardently attached; and, during the intervals of relaxation from public toil, it is his selectest pleasure to commune with those immortal minds who have bequeather to the world the richest treasures of thought and the most exquisite models of style. While politicians of coarser mould busy themselves in fomenting the rude strifes of party, Mr. Robbins, from the impulse of a purer taste, when public duty does not forbid the indulgence, addresses himself to the gorgeous fictions of Homer,or to the unsurpassed orations of Demothenes. In the year 1835, the Fellows of Brown University manifested their senses of Mr. Robbins's talents, as a civilian, by conferring upon him the degree of Doctor of Laws. We lament that such a man, so fitted to temper the violence of political controversy, , is about to retire from public life. May the declining years of this veteran scholar be cheered by the best consolations; and may his sun, now verging toward, its setting, linger, yet longer, above the horizon.

[ 342 ] MEMOIR OF REV. JAMES MANNING, D. D.

Dr. JAMES MANNING was born in Elizabethtown, N. J., October 22, 1738. Concerning his remote ancestors, it is now too late to obtain authentic information. His parents are said to have been substantial and pious people; and, from the skill in husbandry which their son exhibited, it is inferred that they were proprietors and cultivators of the soil. To them and to the village school, was young Manning indebted for his first lessons in the elementary branches of learning. To parental counsel and example was he also indebted for those principles of right conduct, and those cultivated moral sensibilities, which saved his youth from frivolity and vice, and which, ere he had ripened into manhood, God was pleased, through the influence of his Spirit, to crown with the beauty of Christian holiness. At what age he became the subject of peculiar religious impressions, is not known; but it is known that, before he had attained his majority, he solemnly consecrated himself to the service of God.

In the year 1756, the Rev. Isaac Eaton, opened an Academy at Hopewell, N. J. "for the education of youth for the ministry." To Mr. Eaton belongs the high honor of being the first American Baptist to establish a seminary for the literary and theological education of those young men who embraced the doctrines of his sect, and designed, ultimately, to preach them. In this seminary, young Manning pursued those branches of mathematical and classical learning which, at that time, were required for admission into our American colleges.

At the age of about twenty, he entered Princeton College, then, as now, one of the most distinguished literary institutions in the country. Of his collegiate life few memorials have reached the present day. It passed on, probably without striking incident, from its commencement to its close, in the pursuit of high intellectual aims, and in the cultivation of a well-formed moral character. He graduated in 1762, with, it is said, the highest honors of his class. This class consisted of twenty, arid was somewhat eminent for its scholarship. The distinction conferred upon young Manning

[ 343 ] MEMOIR OF REV. JAMES MANNING, D. D.

provoked some discontent among his ambitious compeers, who could not, however, have been the most impartial judges of his merit or their own.*

*The degree of Doctor in Divinity was conferred upon Mr. Manning, by the University of Pennsylvania, but in what year we have, in vain, endeavored to ascertain.

[ 344 ] MEMOIR OP REV. JAMES MANNING, D. D.

for his support. While, however, his outward man was thus a stranger to the luxurious accommodations of life, his inner man was sustained by the ennobling consciousness that he lived not in vain ;—that he was treading, with cheerful alacrity, the path of appointed trial; and that, through his agency, multitudes were becoming wiser and better, for time and for eternity. On this passage in the life of Dr. Manning, it is delightful to dwell. It is delightful to turn aside from scenes of political ambition and ecclesiastical turbulence which now mar our peace, and to repose, for a while, upon a by-gone example of unaffected humility, of quiet duty, and confiding prayer. He had been elected President of Rhode Island College; and the future prosperity of that institution was thought to depend on his removal to Providence. So affectionately desirous, however, was Dr. Manning of the people of his care, many of whom had, through his instrumentality, experienced the transforming efficacy of the religion of Christ, that he could not find it in his heart to leave them. To avoid a separation so painful to his sensibilities, he even proposed to resign the elevated station to which he had just been appointed. To this proposition his influential friends would not listen, and they persuaded him to abandon all thought of resigning the Presidentship. While we are compelled to think that his final decision was a wise one, we honor the feelings which well nigh betrayed his judgment. Under similar circumstances, how few men would have faltered ; how few would have sought to renounce the pathway to literary and social distinction, for the unambitious career of a village pastor !

*The Hon. David Howell, LL. D., was born in New Jersey, January 1, 1747 (0. S.) and graduated at Princeton, in the year 1766. He subsequently removed to Providence, R. I. where he continued to reside till his death, in 1824, at the age of seventy-seven years. During a large portion of his protracted life, he was connected with the College in Rhode Island. For three years, he wan a Tutor, and the first ever appointed in that institution; for nine years, Professor of Natural Philosophy; for thirty-four years, Professor of Law, for fifty-two years, a member of the Board of Fellows; and, for many years, Secretary of the Corporation. Except, however, as a Tutor, we have never heard that he participated in the ordinary duties of academical instruction. Though abundantly competent to the task, he never delivered, as we have reason to know, any lectures while he filled the chair of Professor of Law. After President Manning’s decease, Judge Howell, at the request of the Corporation, presided at two of the Commencements of the College. On both occasions, he delivered to the graduating class, Baccalaureate Addresses, which, as specimens of undefiled English and excellent counsel, were deservedly admired. He practised law in Providence for many years, and was among the most eminent members of the Rhode Island Bar. Under the Confederation, he was a member of Congress from that State, and he subsequently filled, with, great ability, several high offices, civil and judicial. In 1812, he was appointed United States Judge for the District of Rhode Island, and this office he sustained till his death. Judge Howell seas endowed with extraordinary talents, and he superadded to his endowments extensive and accurate learning. As an able jurist, he established for himself a solid reputation. He was, however, yet more distinguished as a keen and brilliant wit, and as a scholar extensively acquainted not only with the ancient, but with several of the modern languages. As a pungent and effective political writer, he was almost unrivalled and, in conversation, whatever chanced to be the theme, whether politics or the law,—literature or theology—grammar—or criticism—a Greek tragedy, or a difficult problem in Mathematics, Judge Howell was never found wanting. Upon all occasions which made any demands upon him, he gave the most convincing evidence of the vigor of his powers, and of the variety and extent of his erudition.

[ 345 ] MEMOIR OF REV. JAMES MANNING, D. D.

opinion of the Hon. Asher Robbins is in accordance with the statement of Judge Howell. In a letter to the author, Mr. Robbins remarks " The College, I believe, was the project of Dr. Manning, and his motive was to give to the Baptist churches a learned clergy. And this, I have no doubt, was the motive to the liberal patronage of the opulent men in Providence, of that persuasion." Morgan Edwards, in his manuscript History of Rhode Island, states that, in the year 1763, Dr. Manning recommended to several influential Baptist gentlemen, assembled at Newport, the project of establishing "a seminary of polite literature, subject to the government of the Baptists." The project was favorably received, and Dr. Manning was requested to present a plan of the proposed institution. With this request he complied, and the plan which he had prepared was approved. After some delay, the causes of which are left for the future historian of the College to relate, a charter for the institution was, in the year 1764, obtained from the legislature of the colony of Rhode Island. The original corporators, of whom Dr. Manning was one, were prominent and influential men. Among the laymen, (and they composed a large majority,) were the Hon. Stephen Hopkins, and the Hon. William Ellery, illustrious as signers of the Declaration of American Independence ;—The former, distinguished for his vigorous powers and his extensive information, especially in political science ; the latter, distinguished, not only for his endowments, but for his philosophical spirit and the graces of elegant scholarship. The influence of these men and of their coadjutors, was successfully put forth in behalf of the charter, which, after a long and earnest debate, was granted by a large majority.

[ 346 ] MEMOIR OF REV. JAMES MANNING, D. D.

and Kent, zealously interposed their claims to the advantage of which the county of Bristol had become the recipient; and it was not without a patient and formal hearing of all the arguments advanced in behalf of each of the competitors, that the Corporation, in the early part of the year 1770, decided "that the said edifice be built in the town of Providence, and there be continued forever." The Corporation, at the same time, appointed a committee to assure President Manning of their cordial approbation of his administration of the affairs of the College, to request him to continue in office, and to transfer his residence to Providence, on the removal of the institution to that town. The same committee were also authorized to endeavor to procure of Mr. Manning’s church and congregation their consent to his removal. The cautious delicacy with which the Corporation interfered with his existing relations presents a somewhat grateful contrast to the unceremonious and otherwise questionable modes of procedure which, under similar circumstances, are now sometimes adopted.

Dr. Manning now entered upon a theatre of enlarged and responsible action. The College was in its infancy, and demanded his parental supervision. Its funds were scanty, and needed to be recruited. Its actual system of discipline and instruction was imperfect, and required not only to be improved, but to be adapted to the new circumstances under which it was hereafter to be administered. To these important objects Dr. Manning devoted himself, with patience and energy, and with that spirit of self-denial which is essential to the success of great enterprises, and which great enterprises are apt to inspire. In the beneficent work of establishing, within the little colony of Rhode Island, "a public seminary for the education of youth in the vernacular and learned languages, and in the liberal arts and sciences," he was aided by the efficient cooperation of the Rev. Morgan Edwards, the Rev. Hezekiah Smith, and others of his clerical brethren.[ Bold italics added, Willison Ed. ] It is, however, perhaps not too much to say, that, but for the enlightened zeal and substantial liberality of a few eminent Baptist laymen, citizens of Providence, the College would have been slow in winning its way to general repute. These public-spirited men, though strangers themselves to the discipline of schools of learning, knew how to prize the benefits of high intellectual culture. Though self-educated, they were without a particle of hostility to the distinctions of learning or of that affected contempt for learned men with which the uncultivated sometimes seek to console their deficiences. Moved by a generous ardor, they determined that their children and the children of their contemporaries should enjoy, to the remotest generations, opportunities for intellectual improvement denied to themselves. Well have they been repaid for their efforts in this good cause. Their activity and enterprise in the accumulation of

[ 347 ] MEMOIR OP REV. JAMES MANNING, D. D.

wealth are now well nigh forgotten; but still fresh is the memory of all their deeds in behalf of science, and letters, and religion.

The permanent establishment of the College in Providence inspired its friends with renewed confidence in its ultimate success, and stimulated them to fresh endeavors to increase its funds, and to enlarge its means of instruction. In all these endeavors, as it would seem from the records of the College, the President was conspicuous. He recommended to the Corporation measures for the advancement of the College, and, in the laborious execution of those measures, he actively participated. As one among the many proofs of his desire to promote the interests of the institution over which he presided, and of the sacrifices which he was ready to make in that cause, we here record a fact communicated by the Hon. Asher Robbins:

"The President received a letter from England, soon after the peace in 1783, in which the writer gave it as his opinion, that if a person were sent out there, for that purpose, he might obtain donations to enlarge the funds of the College, and thereby extend its usefulness. This letter was communicated to the Corporation ; and the only objection to the plan was the uncertainty of success, while the expense would be considerable. Whereupon, the President volunteered to go on this mission, asking only indemnity for his actual expenses, and offering to trust to the contributions for that indemnity. This project was, however, unhappily defeated.’’

Dr. Manning discharged the duties of his responsible office, with unwearied assiduity and with gratifying success, till the year 1776, when the college edifice became first a barrack for the militia, and afterwards a hospital for the French army commanded by Count Rochambeau. He was then compelled to suspend his collegiate occupations, till the close of the Revolutionary war in 1783. From 1776 to 1786, no degrees were conferred. This interval of relaxation from collegiate duty, Dr. Manning diligently employed in the labors of the ministry, and in various acts of social benevolence which the perils and distresses of that period in our national history prompted him to perform. The following instance of his humane disposition is related by the venerable John Howland, President of the Rhode Island Historical Society, in a short Memoir of Dr. Manning, published in the year 1815:

"He enjoyed the confidence of the general commanding in this department, and in one instance in particular had all the benevolent feelings of his heart gratified, even at the last moment, after earnest entreaty, by obtaining from general Sullivan an order of reprieve for three men of the regular army who were sentenced to death by that inexorable tribunal, a court martial. The moment he obtained the order revoking the sentence, he mounted his horse at the general’s door, and, by pushing hint to his utmost speed, arrived at the place of execution at the instant the last act had begun which was to precipitate them into eternity. With a voice which none could disobey, he commanded the execution to stay, and delivered the general’s order to the officer of the guard. The joy of the attending crowd seemed greater than that of the subjects of mercy ; they were called so suddenly to life from the last verge of death, they did not for a moment feel that it was a reality."

Dr. Manning is now to be exhibited in a new character, and in new relations. Hitherto we have seen him ministering at the altar, or dispensing the oracles of wisdom and the shades of the academy. We are now to note his career as a patriot statesman. In the following paragraph, Mr.

[ 348 ] MEMOIR OF REV. JAMES MANNING, D. D.

"The repeated calls of the militia, while the enemy remained in this State, (Rhode Island,) operated with peculiar severity ; in some districts the ground could not be planted, and in others, the harvest was not reaped in season; the usual abundance of the earth fell short, and he who had the best means of supply frequently had to divide his store with a suffering neighbor. In addition to this, laws existed in several States, prohibiting the transport of provisions beyond the State boundary. The plea for these restrictions was that there was danger of the enemy being supplied ; but the real cause was to retain the provisions for the purpose of furnishing their State’s quota of troops, as the war was generally carried on by the energy of the governments of the individual States. These restrictions came with double weight on the citizens of Rhode Island, as a great part of the State was in the possession of the enemy, and the remainder was filled with those who had fled from the islands and the coasts for safety. These restrictions and prohibitions were variously modified, but under all their variations, which referred chiefly to the mode of executing the law, the grievance was the same. The governor and council of war of Rhode Island, wishing to give their language of remonstrance, a power of impression which paper could not be made to convey, commissioned Doctor Manning to repair to Connecticut, and represent, personally, to the government of that State our peculiar situation, and to confer with, and propose to them a different mode of procedure. The Doctor, in this embassy obtained all that he desired ; the restrictions were removed, and, in addition to this, on his representation of the circumstances of the refugees from the islands, contributions, in money or provisions, were made in nearly all the parishes in the interior of Connecticut, and forwarded for their relief."

The Articles of Confederation adopted by the United States in 1781, proved, as is well known, utterly inadequate to the purposes of government. Commercial embarrassments multiplied ; the public credit was impaired ; and the great interests of the nation, nay, even the whole political fabric was threatened with destruction. At this crisis of depression and alarm, Dr. Manning was, by an unanimous resolution of the General Assembly, appointed, in 1786, to represent the State of Rhode Island in the Congress of the United States. The story of this interesting event in the life of Dr. Manning is well told by Mr. Robbins, in the following extract from one of his letters to the author of this Memoir. It may not be amiss here to add, that these letters were written with no view to publication ; but that we have been kindly permitted, by the distinguished writer, to use them for the purpose of illustrating the character of his departed friend:

"Though he had other merits and ample for this appointment of delegate, I have no doubt the dignity and grace for which he was so remarkable, smoothed the way to it. It took place in this wise. There was a vacancy in the delegation, and the General Assembly, who were to fill it, were sitting in Providence. No one in particular had been proposed or talked of: One afternoon, Dr. Manning went to the State-house, to look in upon the Assembly, and see what was doing. His motive was curiosity merely. On his appearance there, he was introduced on the floor, and accommodated with a seat. Shortly after, Commodore Hopkins, who was then a member, rose and nominated President Manning as a delegate to Congress, and, thereupon, he was appointed, and, according to my recollection, unanimously. I recollect to have heard Commodore Hopkins say (it

[ 349 ] MEMOIR OP 11EV. JAMES MANNING, D. D.

was at the house of his brother, governor Hopkins where I shortly after met with him, that the idea never entered his head till he saw the President enter and take his seat on the floor of the Assembly; and that the thought immediately struck him, that he would make a very fit member for that august body, the continental Congress.

Congress under the old Confederation sat, as you know, in conclave; no report of their debates was published ; how far Mr. Manning mingled in them, therefore, I cannot say. I recollect his speaking of one in which he participated (the subject I have forgotten) on account of a personal controversy to which it gave rise between him and a fiery young man, a delegate from Georgia, by the name, as I think, of Houston. This young man in his speech had reflected upon New England and her people. Mr. Manning repelled the attack, and by way of offset, drew a picture of Georgia and her people. This so nettled the young man that in his passion he threatened personal violence. The next day he appeared in Congress with a sword by his side. This produced, at once, a sensation in that Body the symptoms of which were so alarming, that he thought proper to withdraw, take off his sword, and send it home by his servant. In the course of the day he took an opportunity to meet with Mr. Manning, and to make him an apology.

"He must have given himself much to business then, as he seemed to be master of all the important questions which had been debated, and could give the arguments, pro and con, offered by the different speakers.

The famous Dr. Johnson of Connecticut was a member at the same time, with whom Mr. Manning became intimate, and of whom he always spoke with admiration. The Doctor once paid him the compliment of holding the pen of a ready writer, which Mr. Manning very highly valued as coming from such a mail. It was upon an occasion of drawing up a report for a committee of which both were members, and which report the Doctor professed to be much pleased with."

On receiving time appointment of Delegate to Congress, Dr. Manning asked and obtained of the Corporation leave of absence from his collegiate duties, from March till September. During this interval, the Rev. Perez Fobes, at that time a Congregational clergyman of Raynham, Ms., and soon afterwards a Professor in the College, was appointed as Vice President. Dr. Manning returned at the time designated, and quietly resumed his clerical and collegiate duties.

Dr. Manning was an enlightened friend of social order and of all those paramount interests which it is the design of government to foster and protect. He saw how inefficient the Confederation had become ; and he feared that, unless a system of government, endowed with more energy, and founded on a popular basis, were established, the blessings of union and independence could not long be preserved. Hence, he was an earnest advocate for the adoption of our present national constitution. As evidence of the profound interest which he felt in the momentous question which, in the year 1788, agitated the country, we take pleasure in quoting from Mr. Howland’s Memoir, the subsequent passage:

"Dr. Manning was extremely solicitous for ratification. He viewed the situation of the country with all the light of a statesman and a philosopher; and, as a prudent and well informed citizen, he took his measures accordingly. He had saved the college funds through the fluctuations and storms of one revolution, and he now saw them dissipated and lost forever, unless the new form of government should be established, He knew that several clergymen with whom he was connected in the bonds of religious union

[ 350 ] MEMOIR OF REV. JAMES MANNING, D. D.

In connection with the facts stated by Mr. Howland, we cannot forbear to add an incident mentioned in an interesting communication from Dr. Waterhouse to the Rev. Prof. Elton, of Brown University. On the last day of the session of the Massachusetts Convention, and before the final question was taken, governor Hancock, the President, invited Dr. Manning to "close the solemn convocation with thanksgiving and prayer." Dr. Manning, though, as Dr. Waterhouse thinks, taken by surprise, immediately dropped on his knees, and poured out his heart in a strain of exalted patriotism and fervid devotion, which awakened in the assembly a mingled sentiment of admiration and awe. The impression which he made must have been extraordinary ; for, says Dr. Waterhouse, who dined in a large company, after the adjournment, "the praise of Rev. Dr. Manning was in every month! Nothing," adds Dr. Waterhouse, " but the popularity of Dr. Stillman prevented the rich men of Boston from building a church for Dr. Manning’s acceptance."

After his return from Congress, Dr. Manning sustained no political office, and, with the exception of his patriotic mission to Boston, we do not learn that, during the remainder of his life, he engaged conspicuously in the politics of the times. For politics, however, he had a decided taste, imbibed, it is presumed, amid the exciting controversies of the American Revolution. With governor Hopkins, whom Mr. Robbins denominates, "a living library of political knowledge," Dr. Manning maintained a familiar and confidential intercourse. This association probably quickened generous interest which he felt in the public affairs of his country—an interest entirely without acrimony or a feverish thirst for personal distinction, and which, it is believed, he retained to the last.

The connection of Dr. Manning with the First Baptist church in Providence, as their Pastor, was an important event in his life. Unwilling to break the continuity of the preceding narrative, we have refrained, thus far, from noticing, particularly, this event which opened to Dr. Manning a new province of labor and usefulness.

The First Baptist church in Providence was planted, according to governor Winthrop, in the year 1639 ; and it is the oldest Baptist church in America. With its history prior to the year 1770, we have, here, no concern. At that time, the Rev. Samuel Winsor was its pastor. Residing at a distance from the meeting-house, and finding the duties of his office too arduous for him, he made known to his people his earnest desire to be released from services which he could no longer perform, without infringing

[ 351 ] MEMOIR OF REV. JAMES MANNING, D. D.

his paramount obligations to his family. Dr. Manning, having recently become a resident in Providence, was formally invited to preach in Mr. Winsor’s meeting-house. He accepted the invitation, and preached a sermon on a Sabbath which happened to be the day for the administration of the holy communion. Dr. Manning was invited by Mr. Winsor to partake this sacred and affecting ordinance. Several of the members of the church were, however, dissatisfied, that "the privilege of transient communion" should have been allowed to Dr. Manning. This dissatisfaction led to a series of church meetings, in which the majority, however, was, in every instance, found to be on the side of Dr. Manning. The ostensible objection urged by Mr. Winsor and his followers against Dr. Manning was " that he did not make imposition of hands a bar to communion, though he himself received it, and administered it to those who desired it." As the well-informed believed, the true cause of opposition to him was his holding to singing in public worship, which was highly disgustful to Mr. Winsor! "It being found impossible to reconcile conflicting opinions in this matter, Mr. Winsor, and those who thought like him, withdrew from the church. Dr. Manning was then, in due form, appointed the pastor, pro tempore, or, to use his own language, ‘‘ until there may be a more full disquisition of this matter, or time to seek other help at least until time may prove whether it will be consistent with my other engagements, and for the general interest of religion."

We now approach the close of Dr. Manning’s valuable life. At the annual Commencement in 1790, as if in prophetic anticipation of his approaching death, he requested the Corporation to direct their attention towards some suitable person as his successor. This unwelcome duty, was, however, suddenly forced upon them. On the Sabbath morning of July 24, 1791, while uttering the voice of prayer around the domestic altar, he was seized with a fit of apoplexy, in which he remained, but with imperfect consciousness, till the ensuing Friday, when he expired, aged fifty-three years.

The sudden death of a man who had filled, for so many years, such various and commanding stations, produced, throughout the community,

[ 352 ] MEMOIRS OF REV. JAMES MANNING, D. D.

sensations of no common sorrow. All felt that a wise and good man had departed in the midst of his strength, and usefulness, and honors. His fellow-citizens sorrowed, as if for a public benefactor. The people to whom he had so long and so faithfully preached the words of eternal life, mourned that they should see his face no more. His pupils looked in awe upon him, as he lay in the deep and unalterable repose of death, and they sighed to think, that never again should they hang upon the accents of their "guide, philosopher and friend."

On the day next after his death, the remains of Dr. Manning were conveyed from his mansion-house to the College Hall, where the funeral solemnities were performed by the Rev. Dr. Hitchcock, at that time the pastor of a Congregational church in Providence, and one of the Fellows of the College. The funeral, though a public one, was no empty pageant. Multitudes flocked to the College to look, for the last time, upon a face which had so often beamed upon them in kindness; and multitudes followed him to the grave which was so soon to hide him forever from their sight.

On the ensuing Sabbath, eloquent and appropriate funeral discourses were delivered, in the First Baptist meeting-house, by the Rev. Jonathan Maxcy and the Rev. Perez Fobes, both of whom were associated with Dr. Manning in the government and instruction of the College.

Over the grave of Dr. Manning, the Corporation lost no time in erecting a monument, on which is inscribed a faithful record of his worth as a statesman, scholar, gentleman and Christian.

Before we dismiss our task, it remains for us to add a few particulars relating to the personal appearance, habits, and manners of’ Dr. Manning, and then, without attempting an analysis of his character, to invite attention to the ability and success with which he discharged his various duties.

The advantages of a most attractive and impressive exterior,* Dr. Manning possessed in no common measure. His person was graceful and commanding, and his countenance was "remarkably expressive of sensibility, dignity and cheerfulness." In his youth, he was noted for bodily strength and activity. These qualities he was accustomed to display in the athletic exercises common among the young men of his day, and, in his mature years, in some of the severer labors of husbandry. Unpoetical as the occupation may seem, he sometimes made his own stone wall; and in the use of the scythe, he acknowledged no superior among the best trained laborers in the meadow. To his habits of vigorous muscular exercise may be attributed, in part, his excellent constitution, and the sound health, which, till within a few years of his death, he uninterruptedly enjoyed.

The voice of Dr. Manning was not among the least of his attractions. To its extraordinary compass and harmony may, in no small degree, be ascribed the vivid impression which he made upon other minds. How

* The likeness of Dr. Manning, accompanying thin memoir, was engraved from a portrait, whirl, has long been in the possession of Brown University. When the portrait was painted, or by whom, we are unable to state with confidence. Those, however, who remember Dr. Manning insist that it conveys but a very imperfect idea of his remarkably prepossessing countenance.

[ 353 ] MEMOIR 0F REV. JAMES MANNING, D.D.

The manners of Dr. Manning were not less prepossessing than his personal appearance. They seemed to be the expression of that dignity and grace for which he was so remarkable, and of which he appeared to be entirely unconscious—a dignity and grace, not artificial or studied in the least, but the gift of pure nature. He was easy without negligence, and polite without affectation. Unlike many of the distinguished men in our country, he was too well bred to adopt an air of patronage and condescension towards his inferiors either in talent or in station. As a Christian, also, he felt the importance of cultivated manners, and he acknowledged no necessary connection between the sternest fidelity to principle and the precision and austerity with which it is sometimes found associated. Like the venerable Wheelock, the founder of Dartmouth College, he abhorred all religious profession " which was not marked with good manners." *

In the intercourse of social and domestic life, his amiable disposition and versatile colloquial powers, rendered him an engaging and instructive companion. " He was," says Mr. Robbins, "of the most happy disposition and temperament—always cheerful—much inclined to society and conversation ; in conversation more disposed to pleasantry than seriousness fond of anecdote, especially if illustrative of character, of which he had a store." Indeed, so far as personal appearance, address, manners, and voice may be considered, it is given to few men to leave behind them so strong and so grateful an impression.

In the discipline and instruction of the College, Dr. Manning was eminently successful. He secured the obedience of his pupils, rather by the gentleness of parental persuasion than by the sternness of official authority. His instructions, which were always oral, never failed to command their attention, and to leave upon their minds a distinct impression. Classical learning was his forte, and to the classics and their cognate branches, he principally confined himself. Relative to this topic, Mr. Robbins furnishes an apt reminiscence. "I well recollect to have heard the students of the classes whom he chose to take through Longinus particularly, often speak with admiration of his comments upon that author, and of the happy and copious illustrations he gave of the principles from which Longinus deduces the sublime. I could readily believe the admiration was merited ; for I know he had paid great attention to the general principles of oratory, and particularly to those of elocution, of which he was an admirable preceptor."

It must not be understood, however, that Dr. Manning was unacquainted with the severer sciences. This was not the case. As, however, they were less agreeable to his taste than the belles lettres, he naturally devoted his attention mainly to the cultivation of the latter. That he was a profound original thinker, or that he was a man of recondite and critical learning, is not pretended. His reading was somewhat extensive, but it was rather desultory than systematic. Indeed, between the care of the

*See Memoir of Rev. Dr. Wheelock, by Dr. Allen, published in American Quarterly Register for August, 1837

[ 354 ] MEMOIR OF REV. JAMES MANNING, D. D.

college, the care of his church, and the care of his family,* he had not much leisure for acquisition. He was fond of conversing with those who were enabled to devote more time to study, and he sought to profit from their communications. With the late Mr. Joseph Brown, of Providence who, says Mr. Robbins, "was profound in mechanical philosophy and in electricity," he cultivated a familiar intercourse.

The wisdom and success with which Dr. Manning directed, for the term of twenty-six years, the affairs of the College, may be inferred from the preceding narrative. Amidst many discouragements, he raised it from a very humble beginning at Warren, to a station of acknowledged respectability and usefulness. His pupils loved and revered him. Most of them are no more; but the few, who remain, still speak of him with an enthusiasm which time has mellowed—not destroyed. Of this love and reverence, an interesting proof was given, a few years since, by the Hon. Nicholas Brown, of Providence. At his own expense, he built for the University which bears his name, a beautiful edifice, and to perpetuate the remembrance of his early instructor and friend, he gave to it the name of MANNING HALL.

The dignity and grace with which Dr. Manning was accustomed to preside at the annual Commencements is happily illustrated by the following anecdote derived from Mr. Robbins: "I recollect that at one of our Commencements, a French gentleman of distinction, (I think he bore some title of nobility,) was present. He sat by Dr. Waterhouse, and was, I think, introduced and presented by him. They conversed together in Latin, either, as being learned men, they chose to converse in a learned language, or as the Frenchman being less perfect in English and the Doctor in French, they found it more easy to converse in Latin. Struck with this natural dignity and grace, the Frenchman whispered to the Doctor—Natalis praesidere (born to preside.) I heard this from Doctor Waterhouse himself, the next day."

For the times in which he lived, Dr. Manning may be considered as an eminent divine, and an effective preacher. He was a Calvinistic Baptist, but without a particle of sectarian bigotry. Indeed, he was singularly exempt from any of that narrowness and rigidity which professional pursuits are apt to produce, more or less, in most men. He preached the truths of the Gospel, with simplicity and fervor—with a fidelity which alarmed the presumptuous, and with a gentleness which attracted the humble. He spared not the whited sepulchre, but it was his delight to heal the bruised reed. To Mr. Robbins, we here leave the task of completing our exhibition of Dr. Manning as a preacher and divine.

"Dr. Manning was the acknowledged head of the Baptist clergy of his time. He was so considered in England as well as in this country. He corresponded with all the most eminent of his denomination in England. I have seen some of their letters to him. I recollect that one informed

* The number and variety of Dr Manning's cares may be inferred from the following amusing extract from a recent letter, written by Dr. Waterhouse to a gentleman in Providence: "I never shall forget what Dr. Manning, in great good humor, told me were among his trying experiences. He told me his salary was only £80 per annum, and that, for this pittance, he performed all the duties of President of the College; heard two classes recite, every day; listened to complaints, foreign and domestic, from undergraduates and their parents of both sexes, and answered them, now and then, by letter; waited, generally, on all transient visitors into college, &c. &c. Nor was this all. 'I made,’ said Dr. Manning, ‘my own garden and took care of it; repaired my dilapidated walls; went nearly every day to market; preached twice a week, and sometimes oftener; attended, by solicitation, the funeral of every baby that died in Providence ; visited the sick of my own Society; and, not infrequently, the sick of other Societies; made numerous parochial visits, the poorest people exacting the longest, and, in case of any Seeming neglect, finding fault the most.’" Amid all these perplexing cares, which allowed him but scanty time for premeditating His sermons, we have the testimony of Dr. Waterhouse for adding that "the honorable and worthy man never complained."

[ 355 ] MEMOIR OF REV. JAMES MANNING, D. D.

that his communication upon the state of the Baptist churches in this country, and their prospects, had been published in England and extensively circulated there. It was at the time when they were contending in some of the States for independence of the State religious establishment, and for exemption from contribution to that establishment.

At that time, certain polemics of England made war upon the distinguishing doctrine of the Baptists. This called forth defensive publications on their part. These were sent to Dr. Manning. I recollect that some of these were written with great animation, and, according to the fashion of the polemics of that day, with not a little vituperation. The Doctor of course thought the argument on his side complete and triumphant.

He was well versed in all the learning in tire controversy about their distinguishing tenet—as to the subject and mode of baptism. I believe he had read all the books extant on that subject ; but the learned Dr. Gill was his favorite author. His writings he considered a treasure of Biblical learning.

His pulpit discourses were all ex tempore, because he believed this mode, though written compositions were more interesting to scholars, to be more interesting and more efficacious to a mixed congregation made up of all classes of society. His manner was earnest, but never vehement, he made no effort at oratory, or at display of learning. It is true, he occasionally touched and dwelt upon some doctrinal point ; but it was incidentally, as it were, and subordinate to some practical view, the scope of his discourse."

What has already been said supersedes the necessity of additional remark respecting Dr. Manning’s capacity as a statesman. He was formed rather for the theatre of action than for the shades of academic seclusion and, had he devoted himself exclusively to politics, he would unquestionably have stood foremost among the public men of his times.

On the Christian character of Dr. Manning his life is the best eulogy. His religion was wrought into the texture of his moral being. it exerted a pervading and habitual control, regulating his principles, tastes, habits and opinions. It exhibited no disproportions, it delighted in no bustle; it was reflected in no strong lights. In life it was his informing spirit—in death his sustaining hope.

Our task is finished. We cannot, however, quit it, without commending to the young men of our country the example of JAMES MANNING. How diligently and cheerfully did he labor for the good of others! Thus laboring, what valuable results did he accomplish ! All this, too, without the aids of abstruse learning, without ample leisure for self—cultivation, with —powers distracted by care, and spirits perhaps saddened by economical solicitude. He labored, be it remembered, not for himself, but for others, and,, in language breathing a holier inspiration than that of poetry, may be conveyed the GRAND MORAL OF HIS LIFE—

"Love thyself last,

Let all the ends thou aim’st at, be thy country’s,

Thy God’s, and truth’s."

THE

Conducted by

BOSTON:

PRINTED BY PERKINS, MARVIN, & CO.

THE

VOL. VII. NOVEMBER, 1834. No. 2.

A LIST OF THE GRADUATES,

AND THOSE WHO HAVE RECEIVED DEGREES, AT ALL OF THE

NEW ENGLAND COLLEGES,

From their foundation,, to the time mentioned as follows; viz, of Harvard, to and including 1834, Yale, 1834; Brown, 1830; Dartmouth, 1834; William., 1833; Vermont, 1828; Bowdoin, 1834; Middlebury, 1832; Waterville,, 1834; Amherst, 1834, and Washington,, 1834.

FORMING

A COMPLETE INDEX TO THE TRIENNIAL CATALOGUES OF ALL THE

COLLEGES IN NEW ENGLAND.

Corresponding Secretary of the New Hampshire Historical Society.

Presidents of the New England Colleges.

[93] 

Year 

Inducted

Into Office…….Colleges……………….Names…………………Resigned….Died…..Age

1640…………...Harvard,………Rev. Henry Dunster, A.M………1654……1659

1654…………...Harvard,………Rev. Charle Chauncy, B.D………1672………….…..81

1672…………..Harvard,……….Rev. Leonard Hoar, M.D………...1675……1675…..45

1675…………..Harvard,……….Rev Uriah Oakes, A.M…………..1681……………...50

1682…………..Harvard,……….Rev. John Rogers, A.M……………………..1684…..53

1685…………..Harvard………..Rev. Increase Mather, D.D………1701…….1723…..84

1701………….Harvard,………..Rev. Samuel Willard,……………………….1707…..67

1701…………..Yale,…………..Rev. Abraham Pierson, A.M………………..1707…..60

1708………….Harvard,………..Hon. John Leverett, A.M., F. R.S…………..1724…..62

Into Office…….Colleges……………….Names…………………Resigned….Died…..Age

1719………….Yale,……………Rev. Timothy Cutler, D.D………1722…….1765…..82

1725………….Harvard,………..Rev. Benjamin Wadsworth, A.M…………...1737….68

1726………….Yale,……………Rev. Elisha Williams, A.M……...1739……1755….60

1737………….Harvard,………..Rev. Edward Holyoke, A.M………………...1769….80

1739………….Yale,……………Rev. Thomas Clap, A.M…………1766……1767….63

1765…………..Brown,…………Rev. James Manning, D.D………………….1791….52

1766…………..Yale,……………Rev. Napthali Daggett, D.D……..1770……1780

1769…………..Dartmouth,…….Rev. Eleazar Wheelock, D.D………………..1779….68

1770…………..Harvard,………..Rev. Samuel Locke, LL.D………..1773……1777….44

1774…………..Harvard,………..Rev. Samuel Langdon, D.D………1780……1797….75

1777………….Yale,…………….Rev. Ezra Stiles, D.D., LL.D………………..1794

1779………….Dartmouth,……...Hon. John Wheelock, LL.D…………………1817….63

1781………….Harvard,…………Rev. Joseph Willard, D.D., LL.D…………...1804….66

1792………….Brown,…………..Rev. Jonathan Maxcy, D.D………1802…….1820….52

1793………….Williams,………..Rev. Ebenezer Fitch, D.D………...1815……1833….78

[ 93 ]

1795…………..Yale,……………Rev. Timothy Dwight, D. D., LL. D…………1817….64

1800…………. Middlebury,……Rev. Jeremiah Atwater, D. D……..1809

1800 ………….Vermont,……….Rev. Daniel Saunders, D. D………1814

1802…………..Bowdoin,………Rev. Joseph Mckeen, D. D……………………1807….49

1802…………. Brown,…………Rev. Asa Messer, D. D., LL. D……1826

1806…………..Harvard,………..Rev. Samuel Webber, D. D…………………..1810….51

1807………….Bowdoin,………Rev. Jesse Appleton, D. D……………………1819….47

1810…………Middlebury,…….Rev. Henry Davis, D. D…………….1817

1810…………Harvard,…………Rev. John T. Kirkland, D. D.,LL.D..1828

Into Office…….Colleges……………….Names…………………Resigned….Died…..Age

1815…………Williams,………...Rev. Zephaniah S. More, D. D…..1821…….1823….52

1815…………Dartmouth,………Rev. Francis Brown, D. D…………………..1820….36

1816…………Vermont,………...Rev. Samuel Austin, D. D………..1821……1830….70

1817…………Yale,…………….Rev. Jeremiah Day, D. D., LL. D.

1818…………Middlebury,…….Rev. Joshua Bates, D. D

…………………………………..Rev. William Allen, D. D.

1820………….Dartmouth,……..Rev. Daniel Dana, D. D…………...1820

1820………….Waterville,………Rev. Jeremiah Chaplin, D. D…….1833

1821………….Williams,………..Rev. Edward D. Griffin, D. D.

1821………….Amherst,………..Rev. Zephaniah S. Moore, D. D……………..1823….52

1822………….Dartmouth,……..Rev. Bennet Taylor, D. D…………1828

1822………….Vermont,………..Rev. Daniel Haskel, A. M………...1824

1823………….Amherst,.……….Rev. Herman Humphrey, D. D.

1824………….Vermont,……….Rev. William Preston, A. M………1826

1824…………Washington,…….Rev. Thomas C. Brownell, D. D.,*..1831

1826………….Brown,………….Rev. Francis Wayland, D. D.

1826………….Vermont,………...Rev. James Marsh, D. D…………1833

1828………….Dartmouth,………Rev. Nathan Lord, D. D.

1829………….Harvard,…………Hon. Josiah Quincy, LL. D.

1831………….Washington,…….Rev. Nathaniel S. Wheaton, D. D.

1833…………..Middlebury,……Rev. John Wheeler, D. D.

1833…………..Waterville,………Rev. Rufus Babcock, D. D.

• Also, LL.D.

THE

Conducted by

Published by the American Education Society.

BOSTON:

PRINTED BY PERKINS, MARVIN, & CO.

[ 145 ]

AND THOSE WHO HAVE RECEIVED DEGREES AT THE SEVERAL COLLEGES

IN THE

STATES OF NEW YORK* AND NEW JERSEY,

A COMPLETE INDEX TO THE CATALOGUES OF THOSE COLLEGES.

FROM THEIR FOUNDATION.

The text of this and other superb works are available on-line from:

The Willison Politics and Philosophy Resource Center

http://willisoncenter.com/

Reprint and digital file May 20, 2002.

Jeremiah Day graduated Yale 1795. He served first as a tutor, and later Professor of Mathematics, with his published text books an educational mainstay running through repeated issues. President, Yale 1817-1847. No doubt the influence of his predecessor, Timothy Dwight, was substantial, as the selection below attests! [ Willison Editor. ]

The following begins the original text:

Jude. v. 3.—It was needful for me to write unto you, and exhort you, that ye should earnestly contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints.

WERE the apostle who wrote this epistle now on the earth, he would hardly find cause to complain, that there is not contention enough in the Christian Church ; or that existing controversies are not conducted with sufficient earnestness ; though he might not always approve of the ground of contention. And if any one has an inclination to engage in theological warfare, he may have an ample field for the exercise of his powers. Among the divisions and subdivisions of sects and parties, he may find abundant opportunity, to exhibit his controversial skill. But in selecting the ground which he is to defend or attack, he may have occasion to inquire, whether by engaging in this or that theological contest, he will approve him-self to God. Our text furnishes a rule, by which we may be safely guided, in choosing the field of our controversial labors. "Earnestly contend," says the apostle, "for the faith which was once delivered to the saints."

The word faith, in this place, as in many other passages of Scripture, is evidently used to signify, not the act of believing, but the

[ 2 ]

object of belief; the doctrines of the true religion, as they had been made known to the Church. These truths, upon which our salvation depends, the apostle calls upon Christians to defend, with the earnestness which their immeasurable importance demands. The exhortation is confined to revealed truths. It makes no reference to the inventions of men ; to the speculations of human philosophy. Its import may be expressed, in the following simple proposition :

IT IS THE DUTY OF CHRISTIANS, TO CONTEND EARNESTLY FOR THE SYSTEM OF DOCTRINES MADE KNOWN IN THE SCRIPTURES.

To illustrate this proposition, is the design of the present discourse. I propose to consider, first, what is implied in contending for the faith delivered to the saints; and secondly, what is not necessarily included, in a right performance of this duty.

I. Contending for the faith once delivered to the saints implies,

1. That, in opposition to infidels, [ The so-called "Enlightenment" thinkers, Willison Ed.] we exhibit the evidence of the authenticity of the Scriptures.

The Bible contains the only original records which we have of the communications of the will of God to the prophets and apostles. If its authority be set aside, we are left without any satisfactory account of the system of truth delivered to the saints. The evidences of Christianity, as they are commonly termed, are the foundation of all our knowledge of scriptural theology. We are bound, therefore, to guard effectually against the sophistry and artful suggestions by which the primary article of our faith is liable to be assailed. Christians, at the present day, indeed, will rarely find opportunity to meet the infidel, in the use of fair and direct argument. But we are exposed to the more efficient weapons of ridicule, sly insinuation, and affected contempt. To ward off these, it is necessary to be well furnished with that defensive armor which historical truth, and the benevolent spirit of the Christian religion, so abundantly supply.

2. The next step, in defending the faith delivered to the saints, is to maintain the ground, that the Bible is not only an authentic record; but that "all Scripture is given by inspiration of God; that "holy men of God spake, as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." If the Scriptures were only the work of well-meaning but erring men, should have no infallible standard of doctrine and practice; no determinate rule to which we might refer our earnest discussions, for final adjudication. Theological controversies would be truly interminable.

But the faith of which the apostle speaks in our text, is that which was delivered to the saints; not that which they had discovered, by their own powers of reasoning. "I certify you brethren," says

[ 3 ]

Paul, "that the gospel which was preached of me, is not after man: For I neither received it of man; neither was I taught it, but by the revelation of Jesus Christ.* To the Thessalonians he says, " When ye received the word of God, which ye heard of us, ye received it, not as the word of men ; but as it is in truth, the word of God."† This is the broad and immoveable foundation of the Christian’s faith. So long as we have evidence, that God has spoken to us in the Scriptures, so long may we know, that we have there the words of everlasting truth. There can be no firmer ground, on which to rest our religious belief and our hopes of salvation.

3. We are to contend for those principles of interpretation, which will lay open to our view the true meaning of the Scriptures; and not bring to them a meaning derived from our own preconceived opinions.

There are two widely different methods of interpreting the word of God. According to one of these, we first determine for ourselves what doctrines and precepts the Scriptures probably contain ; . and then set ourselves at work, to extort from them a meaning, in conformity with the opinions which we have already formed. All the arts of plastic criticism are applied, to modify and explain away the passages which at first view, stand in the way of our favorite theories. There is no text, however unequivocal its genuine meaning, which may not be made to yield to this transforming process.. The critical alchemy will bring forth from the crucible, any product which the dexterous operator wishes to obtain. The word of God may be appealed to, in support of as many different systems of theology, as ardent theorists choose to propose. If we can determine beforehand, what God ought to reveal to us, for what purpose do we need a revelation? On this supposition, our own powers of reasoning, without aid from above, can teach us all which it concerns us to know. It is a vain pretence, to profess to make the word of God the standard of our faith; while we mould it and shape it, at our pleasure, to render it conformable to schemes of theology of our own devising. It is not unfrequently the case, that far greater liberties are taken with the Scriptures, than would be tolerated, in interpreting any other book.

But the true method of interpretation goes upon the supposition, that God has spoken to us, with a purpose of being understood; that his communications to us have one definite meaning; and that this is to be learned, by the ordinary rules, of construction, by, inquiring. how the language would be understood, by those to whom it was

* Gal. i. 11, 12. † 1 Thess. ii. 13,

[ 4 ]

originally addressed. When we have thus found what God has actually spoken, we are not at liberty to substitute in the place of it, something else, which we should have thought would more probably be revealed. The true point of inquiry is, what saith the Scripture; what meaning does its language convey to us ; and not, what construction may be forced upon it, by the perverted refinements of criticism. We are not, indeed, required to believe assertions which are intuitively or demonstrably false. If such were found in the Bible, they would prove it not to be the word of God. But he may reveal to us mysteries, which our own unaided reason would never have discovered. "Behold," says the apostle, "I show you a mystery." We are to contend, then, for those principles of interpretation, which will unfold to us the revelation of God, as it really is and not transform it into another gospel.

4. We are to contend for the very system of truth which was delivered to the saints ; to maintain it in its simplicity and purity, unadulterated with additions from the speculations of men.

There is one invariable meaning of the Scriptures; that which was given them, when originally written. Nothing has been added to this meaning, since the book of Revelation was brought to a close, by the apostle John. It will remain the same, till the heavens and the earth are no more. The same portion of the Bible has not different meanings for different ages of the world ; for different ranks of society; for different denominations of Christians. Its import may be more correctly understood at one time than another. It may have different applications to the learned and the ignorant; to the rich and the poor ; to the monarch and his subjects. But the meaning of the word of God was the same, when used by Luther and his fellow-laborers, to expose the corruptions of popery; as when read, at the present day, in Christian lands; or carried to the heathen, in India, or Africa, or the islands of the Pacific. It is this one uniform meaning, which we are bound to searh for, as for hid treasures; and which we are to keep distinct from every addition or variation suggested by the wisdom of men. If philosophizing Christians insist upon bringing forward their theories, and systems, and discoveries; let them have all due credit, for the products of their genius. But let them not blend their speculations with the truths which have come to us, in a voice from heaven. Let us always have it in our power, to distinguish the one from the other. Let there be a broad line of separation, between the reasonings of men, and communications from the infinite fountain of truth.

Contending for the Christian faith, implies that we contend for the

[ 5 ]

doctrines, and not merely the words of Scripture. A man may profess to believe all which the Bible contains; and yet may apply himself so intently to the task of explaining away its language, as to leave scarce a shadow of its genuine meaning. The use of the words of Scripture, is to communicate truth. If the latter is rejected, it is to no purpose, that the former are retained. A man may renounce all the essential doctrines of the gospel; and yet profess to have a sacred regard for the language of revelation. In contending for the faith, we are to maintain what we ourselves believe to be the meaning of Scripture; what, after diligent and impartial examination, we think the language clearly expresses. Though we may have a deference for the opinions of others; yet we are to determine the question of the correctness of their views, by bringing them for trial to the word of God.

We are bound to contend for the very same system of truth which is revealed in the Scriptures; as the danger is great, that it will be adulterated, by modifications and additions, introduced by theological controversy, and sectarian zeal. This has been the case, in every age of the Christian Church. Statements which were, at first, intended merely as illustrations of scriptural doctrine, become gradually incorporated, as a part of the system. In discourses from the desk in theological discussions, in religious periodical publications, the results of our own reasoning become so insensibly blended with revealed truth, that it is no easy task, to separate the one from the other. This is necessary, however, if we would know what are truly the doctrines communicated from heaven.

These truths, in distinction from all others, we are strenuously to maintain, because infinite wisdom has given them the preference, in its message of mercy to our world. They are the truths on a belief of which, our everlasting salvation depends. "Go ye into all the world," says Christ, "and preach the gospel to every creature: he that believeth shall be saved." He that believeth what? The gospel of Christ ; not the abstractions of philosophy. These are the truths which are accompanied with the sanctifying influence of the Spirit. "Sanctify them," says Christ, "through thy truth ; thy word is truth." They are the truths which have such an overpowering efficacy, in the conversion of the heathen. Can this be said of our finely wrought metaphysical speculations?’ When missionaries of different denominations meet on pagan ground, they lay aside, in a great measure, their sectarian peculiarities, and affectionately unite in preaching the simple gospel of Christ. It is this, which causes the Christian to triumph on the bed of death. It is this, by which our eternal allotment will be fixed, at the judgment of the great day.

[ 6 ]

A zealous defence of scriptural doctrines is our duty, because they are violently opposed. Men destitute of godliness, however widely they may differ in other respects, are united in their hostility to the humiliating declarations, and unyielding demands of the gospel. They will tolerate any of the corruptions of Christianity, rather than the pure system of evangelical truth, as it was left by Christ and his apostles. This determined opposition calls for unceasing vigilance, on the part of those who adhere to the faith, as it was delivered to the saints. The difficulty of the contest is greatly increased, from the necessity of frequently meeting an insidious and treacherous enemy. The opposers of the truth, instead of attacking it openly, may often effect their purpose more surely, by artfully explaining away the doctrines which they profess to believe. While they would wish to be thought sound in the faith, they are occupied in undermining the system which they pretend to support. Against this unwearied opposition, either open or concealed, the friends of the truth must steadily and boldly contend.

5. Contending for the primitive Christian faith, implies a defence not merely of what is expressly stated in the Scriptures; but also, of what may be clearly inferred from the truths revealed. It would have been impossible to comprise in a single volume, particular directions applying to all the varieties of human conduct. General principles are laid down in the Scriptures; and are illustrated by examples, parables, answers to inquiries; and practical exhortations. In adapting these principles to our own circumstances, it is often necessary to draw conclusions from them, by a course of reasoning. Whatever points of doctrine or of duty, can be manifestly inferred from the express declarations of Scripture, may be considered as implied in the original Christian faith.

The proper mode of reasoning on theological subjects, is to start with premises given in the word of God; and from these, to deduce consequences applicable to the present condition and exigencies of the Church. But even on this plan, when the course of argument is long and complicated, we are liable to much uncertainty in our results. The reasoning, on moral and religious subjects is, in many cases, of a character widely different from mathematical demonstration. In the latter, equal and absolute certainty runs through the whole. The conclusion, in a long chain of argument, is as indubitably evident, as any of the preceding steps. But in the probable arguments which are commonly applied to religious subjects, each step, as we advance₁ becomes weaker than the preceding. The conclusion is affected by all the chances of error, in the whole series of inferences. Little

[ 7 ]

reliance, therefore, is to be placed on the results, unless each is fortified by different lines of argument, all made to concur in proving the same point.

II. Our subject may he farther illustrated, by considering some modes of theological discussion, which are not necessarily implied in contending for the primitive Christian faith. There are various methods of professedly defending the doctrines of the gospel, which have a very doubtful claim to be included in the duty enjoined in the text. Some of these, it may be proper, on the present occasion, to specify.

1. A defence of scriptural doctrines does not necessarily imply, that we prove them to be true, by a course of argument INDEPENDENT of revelation. The evidence on which they rest is this, that God, who cannot err, and will not deceive, has caused them to be revealed to us as true. We can have no higher ground of assurance, than the declaration, "Thus saith the Lord." No course of reasoning can add to the evidence. Will you undertake to confirm by logical deduction, what the God of heaven has declared to be true ? Will you bring out your rushlight, to add to the blaze of the noonday sun? Why not undertake to prove by argument, that we live, and feel, and think? When we have shown that the Bible is the word of God and have clearly ascertained the meaning of any portion of it ; all reasonable inquiry concerning the truth of what we find there, is at an end.

But suppose the meaning of a passage of Scripture is doubtful’?

The only way to determine the sense of it, is to apply to it correct principles of interpretation. If according to these, the language does not express a particular doctrine, then there is no evidence, that the doctrine is contained in the passage. Do you say, that one of the methods of interpretation, is to ascertain, by reasoning, whether the doctrine in question is true or not? But if it is true, it by no means follows, that it is contained in the passage under consideration; Or even that it is a doctrine of Scripture. There are innumerable truths, which are not stated in the Bible.

But you say, if a doctrine is not true, it surely cannot be found in the word of God. If you can demonstrate, that is, if you can prove with infallible certainty, that a proposed doctrine is false or impossible; then indeed, it cannot be taught in the Scriptures. But determining what cannot be the meaning of a passage, is only one step, towards showing what is the meaning. And even this negative point is not gained, by merely exhibiting the improbability of the doctrine in question, as seen by the light of nature alone. Many truths are found in the Bible, which to unassisted reason, would appear highly

[ 8 ]

improbable. The whole plan of redeeming mercy, is far beyond the power of human reason to contrive; or to render probable, without the aid of revelation. The natural probability or improbability of the truth of a doctrine, therefore, does not settle the question, whether it is contained in the Scriptures. Their meaning must be determined, on other grounds.

To admit nothing into our creed, but what can be proved by the light of nature alone, is to exclude all the peculiar doctrines of the gospel. Was it not highly improbable to human view, that he who was the brightness of his Father’s glory, should come into our world, and suffer and die for those who have rebelled against the authority which all heaven obeys? It is the very purpose of revelation, to disclose to us truths which we could not other wise know. " Things which eye bath not seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived, God bath revealed to us by his Spirit." The numerous miracles recorded in Scripture, are so many instances of events highly improbable, according to the common course of nature. Was it probable that Lazarus would come forth from the grave ; that the Red Sea would divide its waters, at the lifting of Moses’ rod; that Elijah would ascend in a chariot of fire to heaven? Are all accounts of this nature in the Scriptures to be explained away, upon neological principles of interpretation, till they become nothing more than figurative representations of ordinary events?

But we have to deal with those who do not admit the authority of the Bible. Is it not necessary on their account, to resort to a course of reasoning, to establish religious principles ?

How will you do this? Will you undertake to prove to them, in this way, all the truths of the Bible, or only a part ? If a part only, how will this convert them to Christianity? Many books which are not inspired contain some truths. If you can prove all the truths of Scripture, by a course of reasoning independent of divine testimony, what need is there of inspiration? Why may we not rely upon our own reason alone, as being itself sufficient to make known to us all the will of God?

He who believes only what he can prove without the aid of revelation, is still an infidel. He can never become a Christian, till he yields his assent to the testimony of God in the Scriptures. And then, there will be no farther necessity of proving to him, without the Bible, the doctrines for which the Bible itself furnishes the best of all evidence. There are many of the most essential truths of the gospel, which. you can never make manifest by the mere light of nature.

[ 9 ]

But how are we to combat the numerous errors among nominal Christians ?

Do as Paul did: "Reason with them out of the Scriptures." It may sometimes be expedient to use means, to silence those who array their metaphysical subtilties against the truths of revelation. It may be proper to meet them on their own ground; and to show them, that upon their own principles of reasoning, their positions are unfounded. But even here, the object should be, not to prove the doctrines of Scripture, by philosophical arguments ; but by shaking the objector’s confidence in his own speculations, to lead him to rest his belief on the authority of divine testimony. Unless you bring him to this, your efforts will be lost upon him. If he hear not Moses and the prophets, Christ and the apostles ; you will in vain hope to convert him to the true faith, by the aid of philosophy. Are we destitute of sufficient evidence of the omniscience and veracity of God, till we can prove, from other sources, the truth of every thing which He has revealed?

2. Contending for the faith delivered to the saints, does not necessarily imply, that we contend for any particular form of words, different from those of Scripture, in which we or others have thought proper to express this faith.

A great portion of the ardent theological controversy which has existed in every age of the Christian Church, has been respecting the technical phraseology in which scriptural doctrines have been dressed. Particular words and phrases are regarded with as much veneration, as the language of the Bible itself. He who ventures to substitute for them other forms of expression, is considered as having rejected the doctrines which had been stated in these favorite terms. But scriptural truths are not of such a nature, that they can be justly exhibited, in one uniform set of words only. The meaning may be retained, while the language is varied. If no change could be made in the phraseology, without materially altering the sense, then we ought to confine ourselves to the terms of Scripture ; to "the words which the Holy Ghost teacheth." We can find no perfect substitute for the language of inspiration. Still, there may be art advantage, for particular purposes, in adopting different modes of expression. Especially, if theology is to be thrown into the systematic form of a regular science; or if its principles are to be investigated, by a train of logical deductions; a corresponding precision of terms may be necessary. The language of Scripture is that of common life; not of abstract reasoning, and metaphysical exactness. But it was found sufficient for communicating all the truths which are necessary to

THE NATIONAL PREACHER.

[ 10 ]

salvation and holiness of life. If a man maintains and expresses clearly all the great doctrines of Scripture, though he may do it in his own language, he is not to be considered a heretic.

Will it be said, that a public teacher may explain away the language of the Bible ; and therefore, that it may be necessary to have some settled phraseology agreed upon, to protect the sacred pages front perversion? But he may, with greater ease, explain away any merely human composition. Can you throw around him a wall of words so firm, that he can find no way of breaking through it? The very fact, that a form of words long in use, is liable to have its meaning gradually changed by continued efforts to explain it away, may render it necessary to substitute, from time to time, other expressions, which have not been subjected to this modifying process.

On the other hand, when terms well selected have been judiciously applied to revealed truth ; when they have been found, on trial, to answer the purpose for which they were adopted, that of conveying distinctly the meaning of Scripture ; and especially, if they have come into familiar use, and are well understood by Christians in common life; it is unwise to set them aside; and to introduce others which are liable to be misapprehended, and to excite alarm and suspicion, among those who would sacredly preserve the purity of Christian doctrines. Still it should be remembered, that evangelical truth is not so dependent on the language in which we may think proper to clothe it, as to justify vehement contention among Christians, about words and phrases which the Holy Ghost has not taught. There was too much of this unwarrantable controversy, it would seem, even among the primitive Christians. "Charge them before the Lord," says the apostle, "that they strive not about words, to no profit."

3. Defending the truths of revelation, does not imply, of course, a defence of the philosophical theories or hypotheses which have been proposed, to explain the grounds, and reasons, and causes, of what is revealed. Theoretical explanations are not the evidence on which our belief of these truths should rest. We are bound to receive them, on the simple testimony of God. The philosophical explanation which is added to the scriptural statement, is no part of the revelation. We may believe in the resurrection of the dead, without attempting to explain the manner in which they will rise. We may believe, that "those who are alive, at the coming of our Lord, will be changed, in the twinkling of an eye ;" though we may have no hypothesis, to account for the change. We may believe that the soul is united to the body, without advancing a theory, to explain the

[ 11 ]

nature of this union. We may believe that God is omniscient, without giving a philosophical account of the grounds of this knowledge.

But how, it may be asked, can we believe that which we do not understand? We do understand the thing which we believe. But something else, supposed to be connected with this, we may, perhaps, not understand. We can understand the fact, that Moses and Elms appeared to the three disciples, on the mount of transfiguration though we may not know, in what manner they came there. We can understand, that our limbs move, at the bidding of our wills though nothing is more mysterious, than the influence of the mind upon the body. We may believe in the growth of trees and plants though we know nothing of the principle of vegetable life. ‘We may understand what is meant by the diurnal revolution of the earth, without proposing a theory to assign the cause of this motion. We may understand the momentous truth, that God works in us, to will and to do; though we may not be able to explain the mode in which he operates on our hearts. What is revealed, that is, what is made known to us, we can certainly understand. In the common business and intercourse of life, we become acquainted with innumerable facts, that have causes, and consequences, and relations, which no philosophy can explain. Indeed every fact is connected; either directly or remotely, with something else which is inexplicable. The nature of our minds, the power of life in our bodies, the air we breathe, the light of heaven, are full of mysteries. If we could not understand anything, without being able to explain all its relations to other objects; we could know absolutely nothing.

Will it be said, that in this age of light and inquiry, there is no getting along without philosophical theology; that both Christians and opposers of the truth, will have their theories; that if you do not furnish them with such as are sound, they will adopt those which are false and dangerous; that the doctrines of Scripture will not be received, without some theory to explain them?

Have we then come to this, that, with the Bible in our hands, philosophy is, after all, the foundation of our belief, and the guide of our conduct; that, though we profess to receive the Scriptures, as the word of the living God; yet we really give credit to his declarations, so far only, as they conform to our preconceived philosophical opinions; that the testimony of omniscience itself, is not sufficient to gain our assent to a doctrine, till our limited understandings have found out a theory to explain it? Brethren, I fear we are far out at sea, on the drifting tide of adventurous speculation. And our chart, instead of being the infallible guide of everlasting truth, is, too often, the conjectural sketch of some bold projector.

THE NATIONAL PREACHER.

[ 12 ]

But are we forbidden to exercise our own reasoning powers, on subjects contained in the Scriptures? By no means ; provided our speculations are made to keep their proper place, in relation to the divine testimony. If they are not allowed to modify, or explain away scriptural truth ; or to affect its credibility ; if they are not offered, as a necessary supplement to the Bible; they may be allowed, as gratifying a rational curiosity; as giving to insulated doctrines a connected arrangement ; as illustrating the harmony between the truth which the Creator has presented to us in his word, and the light which he has thrown around us in his works.

But what is to be done with those who bring forward their theories, in opposition to the doctrines of Scripture? They are undoubtedly to be met, either by exposing the fallacy of their particular views; or by doing that which is far better, convincing them, that a God of eternal truth is to be believed, whatever becomes of our theories and speculations. If you merely combat a man’s particular sophistry, you will only induce him to shift his ground ; to substitute one false scheme for another: for theories can be fabricated, as easily, and as abundantly, as the imagery of the poet. And many of them can be taken to pieces, with as much dispatch, as they have been put together. The work of mutually constructing and destroying them, is going on rapidly, at the present day. Theological combatants are fast demolishing each other’s hypotheses ; and thus furnishing most abundant proof, that philosophy is no sure foundation for religious truth. The assailants themselves are evidently beginning to be sensible, how much easier it is, to prostrate the theories of others, than to give any firm support to their own. If we must be involved in unceasing controversy, we may find some relief from our fears, in observing how extensively, philosophical theology is applied to its appropriate use, that of confuting philosophical theology. It is well employed, when made to bear upon those who bring forward their own deceptive reasonings, in opposition to the statements, of Scripture.’ Though the philosophy which is consistent with the Bible, may not be so important, as to call for any earnest contention; yet that which is opposed to revealed truth, ought undoubtedly to be wrested from the hand of the enemy, as a powerful and dangerous weapon. This should be done, however, for the purpose of converting those who are in error, not from one hypothesis to another ; but from all their speculations, to a belief in the simple testimony of God. Defending the Christian faith, implies that all attacks upon it be firmly resisted. But opposition to scriptural truth, is to be carefully distinguished, from opposition to some philosophical

[ 13 ]

explanation, which has been added to the Scriptures. It is often the case, that a man is charged with assailing revealed truth; when his attacks have really been directed against some philosophical hypothesis all the opposition in the case, being between one theory and another; when neither of them, perhaps, has any necessary connection with what God has declared in his word.

Some may inquire whether the doctrines of Scripture ought to be, or even can be, separated from the philosophy which belongs to them? To this I answer, that the philosophy which is found in the Bible itself is as much a part of revelation, as the doctrines, the commands, or the predictions. We can no more be justified in rejecting any philosophical explanation contained in the Scriptures, than in setting aside their historical or doctrinal statements. I am not objecting to inspired philosophy ; but to those inventions of men, which claim to be the guides of our faith, on points that have been settled by divine authority. If we must have theological philosophy, let it be the philosophy of Moses, of Isaiah, and of Paul; not of Plato, of Aristotle, and of Kant.

The apostles, it maybe said, have set us an example of philosophical discussion. They did not merely communicate the truths which they had received, by revelation from heaven; but they reasoned with those to whom they spake. It ought to be considered, however, that much of their reasoning was addressed to unbelieving Jews or heathen; neither of whom admitted their claim to a divine commission. They were dealing not with Christians; but with infidels. These could be met, upon their own ground only. But in the epistles written to Christian churches, the reasoning is commonly founded on the Old Testament, which, at that time, constituted the volume of Scripture.

But is not philosophy necessary, in the interpretation of Scripture? Is not some previous knowledge requisite, to enable us to understand the language ? Such knowledge, undoubtedly, as was common to the persons to whom it was originally addressed; the husbandmen, and shepherds, and fishermen of Judea. Such philosophy as that with which Peter, and Matthew, and John were familiar. The language of Scripture is generally the simple diction of common life. It must have been well understood, by those to whom it was originally spoken. But it by no means follows, that they were previously familiar with the truths which it was employed to communicate. A distinct apprehension of the meaning of words, does not imply a knowledge of all the propositions which can be expressed in. those words. An acquaintance with arithmetical numbers, and

[ 14 ]

their names, does not include all which can be known of arithmetic. A familiarity with the terms and definitions in Euclid’s Elements, does not constitute all the knowledge of geometry. Several important doctrines which Christ himself taught, were in direct opposition to the previous opinions of his hearers. The most sublime and surprising truths may often be expressed in terms perfectly familiar. It was the very design of a revelation intended for all mankind, to make known the high and wonderful purposes of heaven, in the simple language of common life. A knowledge of this language, and of the meaning which it conveys, does not necessarily imply any special philosophical attainments; or any previous acquaintance with the truths to be revealed. Do you inquire, whether the foundation of our religious belief, must not be laid in a correct philosophy? The foundation of our religion ought not to be laid in any philosophy, but that which proves the Scriptures to be the word of God, and enables us to understand its meaning. " Other foundation can no man lay, than that which is laid."

4. Contending for the faith delivered to the saints, does not imply, that we undertake to free it from all the difficulties which may be connected with the truths revealed. A revelation respecting the purposes, providence, and moral government, of the infinite Ruler, must present many considerations, which are mysterious to the limited powers and attainments of man. The facts and the doctrines which are stated, may be very plain. But we may start inquiries respecting the causes of the facts, and the manner in which they exist concerning points which are not revealed. Some difficulties may, indeed, be explained. But many will remain, after all our endeavors to solve them. The explanation which is given of one mystery, will often bring others into view, which are still greater. The difficulties which we must encounter, in our investigations, instead of becoming less numerous, multiply upon us, as we advance in knowledge. The more a man enlarges the horizon of his mental vision, the broader is the circle from which he looks out upon an unlimited space, in which nothing is distinctly apprehended. As he ascends one height after another, it is to bring others into view, yet farther on, and still bounding his prospect.

If we suspend our belief till we can free the truths of revelation from all mystery, we shall never believe them. The attributes of God, the purposes of his throne, the revelations of his vast and eternal kingdom, are too high to be fully comprehended by us. "No man can find out the work that God maketh, from the beginning to the end." Our own existence, the constitution of our minds, the

[ 15 ]

heavens and the earth, the allotments of providence, are full of inexplicable wonders. But in all these manifestations of unsearchable wisdom, we admit the facts, without waiting for an explanation of the mysteries with which they are connected. We give credit to the assertions of men, respecting events which are wholly unaccountable. And shall we call in question the testimony of God, till we can satisfy ourselves, that every thing to which it refers, is, in all its relations, within the reach of our comprehension? If a man renounces his religious principles, whenever he meets with a difficulty respecting them ; he must give up one point after another, till he arrives at atheism, which involves greater mysteries, than any or all other opinions.

5. Defending the primitive faith does not necessarily imply, that we earnestly contend for every point which may be connected even with fundamental doctrines. Concerning the most essential truths of revelation, many inquiries may be started and many suggestions proposed which are comparatively unimportant. Whatever God has thought proper to reveal, respecting the fundamental truths of Christianity, we are bound to defend, against all opposition. But we are not under obligation to maintain, with the same earnestness, every point which our own ingenuity has brought into view, Upon the same subjects. All which is in any way connected with essential truth, is not of course essential, even though it may be trite. Some seem to think, that the fundamental doctrines of the gospel, have so hazardous a position, that if even the dust which has gathered upon these corner-stones be disturbed, the whole fabric will be shaken. Many erect for themselves a finely proportioned theological system, with its stories, and columns, and arches, and key-stones; composed of materials partly taken from the word of God, and partly such as their own hands have wrought; and when it is finished, they appear to be apprehensive, that if a little of their untempered mortar be removed, the entire structure will be in danger. It may be, that all the important parts of revealed truth, have some relations to each other, that to the view of omniscience, any one implies the whole. But our limited understandings cannot discover all the links of the chain which binds them together. Nor is this requisite for the establishment of our faith. When it is necessary to prove any point, by a course of argument independent of revelation, we must be able to trace its connection with something previously known. But God, by his simple declaration, can give us the fullest assurance of the truth of any doctrine, without pointing out the relations which it bears to other parts of the Christian system. Nothing can shake the

foundation on which it rests, but that which goes to prove, that the Scriptures which contain the doctrine are not the word of God.

6. Contending for the Christian faith does not imply a defence of all the additions which have been made to this faith, with a view of supplying supposed deficiencies in the Scriptures. In our controversies with Papists, we frequently refer to the fundamental doctrine of Protestantism, that the word of God is the only and sufficient rule of faith. But whatever may be our professions, I fear that we are far from adhering to this principle in practice.

Additions may be made insensibly, and without any design of corrupting the word of God. But they become, by degrees, so effectually incorporated with scriptural truth, that it is not easy to separate the alloy from the original material with which it is blended? And we often contend, with more ardent zeal, for our own additions, than for the pure word of God. Can this be justified upon Christian principles? When God has given us a revelation, with the express design of saving our fallen world ; when he continued his communications to prophets and apostles, through successive ages, "that the man of God might be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works ;" and when, on bringing the inspired volume to a close, he pronounced so fearful a curse upon the "man that shall add to these things ;" shall we declare, by our conduct, that we consider the book as, after all, defective ; insufficient for the purpose for which it was given ? There may be religious truths which are not found in the Bible. But are they such as are necessary to salvation and holiness of life? Are they the truths which were used by the apostles, to bring the gentiles to repentance, or which are especially blessed by the Divine Spirit, to the conviction and conversion of sinners, the increasing sanctification of Christians, and reviving the power of godliness in the Church ? Are they the great instrument by which missionaries, at the present day, are shaking the foundations of pagan superstition? Are they the truths by which the departing spirit is sustained in the hour of death; and by which the world will be tried, at the judgment of the great day?

84. AAA84 SAMUEL WILLARD Biography, V. President, Harvard.

CONDUCTED BY

PRINTED BY PERKINS & MARVIN.

1840.

The text of this and other superb works are available on-line from:

The Willison Politics and Philosophy Resource Center

http://willisoncenter.com/

Reprint and digital file February 2, 2002.

This document was scanned from an original copy of the American Education Society’s Quarterly Register, which served as a digest of the diverse facets in American Education and its out flowing effects worldwide. The society was comprised of leading Harvard, Yale, Dartmouth and Princeton Alumni, and served to promote the work both in the U.S. and abroad for educating the people in the Reformation’s worldview of the Bible serving as the only infallible rule of life, which, of course, was the purpose for which these schools were founded.

Vol. XII, NOVEMBER, 1839. No. 2.

Samuel Willard was the second son of Major Simon Willard, who came from the County of Kent in England in 1634, and first settled at Cambridge. His house and garden were in Water street, and he owned a farm on the west side of Charles River—including, I believe, "Simon’s Hill," which, according to tradition, took its name from him. Simon Willard was, with the Rev. Messrs. Bulkley and Jones, among the first settlers of Concord in the fall of 1635 and represented that town at almost every session of the General Court from 1636 to 1654, when he was chosen a member of the Court of Assistants. He held the latter office by annual elections till his death, April 24, 1676—and was for more than twenty two years and until his death, chief in command of the military force ot Middlesex.

Samuel Willard was born at Concord Jan. 31, 1639—40, and graduated at Harvard College in 1659. The clergyman of the place was Rev. Peter Bulkley, whose instructions, doubtless, had much influence in forming the early character of young Willard. After finishing his studies he preached in Groton. I find hin there as early as 1662. The following extracts are from the records of Groton

"March 18, 1663.—Mr. Willard desired if God move his heart there-unto to continue still with us for our further edification." A twenty acre lot was granted to him, also one hundred and twenty acres in addition.

"Voted, That if Mr. Willard will accept of it he shall be their minister as long as he lives." Mr. W. accepts, "except a manifest providence of God appears to take him off."

"Voted, That Mr. Willard shall have the town’s interest in the house and lands that were devoted by the town for the ministry, provided they may meet in the house the Lord’s day, and upon other occasions of the town in meetings."

Sept. 10, 1663.—. £40 granted for his salary, "and if God be pleased to dispose of his and our hearts to continue together after 1663 the expiration of the year, hope by approving of him and he of us, we shall be willing to add unto his maintenance, as God shall bless us, expecting that he shall

114. MEMOIR OF REV. SAMUEL WILLARD, M. A.

continue unto our poverty, if God shall please to deny a blessing upon our labors. Year to begin July 1, 1663."

No particulars in relation to his ministry at Groton have come down to us. It should seem from the foregoing extracts that he was held in esteem by his people. But the town was a new settlement, remote from the general population of the Colony, its population sparse, and his influence doubtless somewhat limited, and probably his opportunities for literary improvement were bounded by a like circumscription. Such as he had it is manifest he must have made the best use of.*

I have no means of knowing where he passed the two succeeding years. Probably, however, it was in Boston or the neighborhood, where his friends chiefly resided. He was installed over the Old South Church in Boston, March 31, 1675, 0. S., as colleague with Rev. Thomas Thacher. Here his sphere of usefulness was much widened, and those talents of which his native modesty had somewhat impeded the manifestation, became more generally known, and the excellence of his learning was held in more just estimation. From this time till his death, a period of more than twenty-nine years, he continued at the Old South, assiduously devoted to the duties of his sacred office.

* "At first in his younger years his Master committed to his pastoral care a flock in a more obscure part of this wilderness; but so great a light was soon Observed through the whole land, and his Lord did not design to bury him in obscurity, but to place him in a more eminent station, which he was qualified for." (See. Mr Pemberton’s Funeral Sermon p. 70.)

115 MEMOIR OF REV. SAMUEL WILLARD, M. A.

a young gentleman from his travels. This was preached on the return of his son Josiah, I suppose, who was afterwards Judge of Probate for the County of Suffolk, and Secretary of the Province of Massachusetts Bay.

* See Dr. Wisner’s History of the Old South Church, Boston, pp. 14, 89.

116 MEMOIR OF REV. SAMUEL WILLARD, M. A.

his "Epistle Dedicatory," that "he has had the satisfaction to have said less of Mr. Willard in this sermon than he was fully persuaded was his due."

The following anecdote has been recorded in proof of the excellence of his delivery. Mr. Treat, a minister of Eastham, married a daughter of Mr. Willard. The matter of his sermons, it is stated, was excellent, but it was greatly injured by the badness of his manner. After his marriage with the daughter of Mr. Willard, he was sometimes invited by the latter to preach in his pulpit. Mr. Willard possessed an agreeable delivery and an harmonious voice, and as a natural consequence, he was generally admired. Mr. Treat having preached one of his best discourses to the congregation of his father-in-law, in his usual unhappy manner, excited much dissatisfaction. Several persons waited on Mr. Willard and begged that Mr. Treat might not be invited into the pulpit again. To this request Mr. Willard made no reply; but he desired his son-in-law to lend him the discourse, which being left with him, he delivered it, without alteration, to his people, a few weeks after. The hearers were delighted, and requested a copy for the press. " See the difference," said they, " between yourself and your son-in-law. You have preached a sermon on the same text as Mr. Treat’s; but while his was intolerable, yours was excellent."

There was no doubt of his learning. He was a severe and patient student, especially in theology, the engrossing subject of the period. His works, apart from their doctrinal character, show a well disciplined mind, abounding in sound views, with masculine sense and a wide reach of thought; while " a melodious voice and graceful delivery," gave him great power as a pastor and teacher.

He seems to have exercised charity towards those who differed from him, beyond what was usual, at that period, and certainly where the difference was only modal, it was something gained. He was more catholic than his brethren in a day when catholicism was considered no great virtue. " We have," says Edward Randolph, in speaking of him, "in Boston, one Mr. Willard, a minister, brother to Major Dudley. He is a moderate man, and baptizeth those who are refused by the other churches, for which he is hated." (Hutch. Col. Papers, 533.)

But that which marked him as in advance of the great mass of the community in which he lived, was his conduct in the witchcraft delusion. To go with the crowd, whether right, or in questionable matters, is very

117 MEMOIR OF REV. SAMUEL WILLARD, M A.

Mr. Willard early saw through the infatuation which was so thoroughly infused among the people, and by which almost every one else was blinded— an infatuation if not created yet marvellously promoted, by Cotton Mather.* He openly opposed it in public and private, he preached against it, and wrote and published a pamphlet on the subject, entitled, "Some Miscellany Observations respecting Witchcraft, in a Dialogue between S. and B." 1692. Mr. Brattle, in his letter of October 8, 1692, thus speaks of him— "I cannot but think very honorably of the endeavors of a Reverend person in Boston, whose good affection to his country in general, and spiritual relation to three of the Judges in particular, has made him very solicitous and industrious in this matter, and I am fully persuaded that had his notions and proposals been hearkened to, and followed when these troubles were in their birth, in an ordinary way, they never would have grown to that height which now they have. He has as yet met with little but unkindness, abuse and reproach from many men; but I trust that in after times his wisdom and service will find a more universal acknowledgment, and if not, his reward is with the Lord.’’ (Mass. Hist. Col.)

After times have done justice to his wisdom and service. The "unkindness, abuse and reproach" he met with, and to which all are exposed who step out of the beaten path, have passed away, and all the glory of devotion to truth and duty remains and ever will remain. Sewall, one of the judges referred to in Mr. Brattle’s letter, when time and reflection had cleared away the strong delusion which had possessed him, came forward like an honest man and acknowledged his error. His confession was read from the pulpit by Mr. Willard. (Calef.)

The accusers, doubtless from the course which Mr. Willard had taken in detecting their wicked designs, repeatedly cried out upon him, and would have rejoiced to sacrifice him with Mr. Burroughs and other worthy and innocent persons, to their deadly resentment. But his character before the public was too exalted, and the affections of his people too strong to suffer a hair of his head to be injured, and persecution against him assumed the milder forms of ‘‘ unkindness and reproach."

Gov. Andros early in his administration gave trouble to Mr. Willard and his congregation, he demanded the use of the Old South Church " for the common prayer worship.’’ Sewall says that Mr. Willard ‘‘discoursed his Excellency about the meeting-house in great plainness, showing they could not consent." How the matter issued, I have not by me the means of information. I believe, however, that those who were of the " common prayer worship," used the church after the services of the congregation.

* Much ridicule has been unnecessarily heaped upon our fathers for these transactions. "It should be recollected that similar occurrences had been much more general in England not long before, where more were put to death, as witches, in a single county, in a short space of time, than have suffered for this alleged crime, in all New England, from the first settlement; that such men as Lord Chief Justice Hale, sanctioned and participated in those proceedings; and that the "contagion", as it has been appropriately called, undoubtedly spread to New England from the mother country. It was one of those aberrations of imagination and judgement, which sometimes pervade and agitate whole communities; which we contemplate with wonder, but cannot explain." Dr. Wisner's Hist. discourses, p. 88

118 MEMOIR OF REV. SAMUEL WILLARD, M. A.

were over for the day. I find that Mr. Ratcliffe, the Episcopal clergyman, under the protection of Andros, in the spirit of mischief, in October, 1687, sent to Mr. Willard to leave off sooner, which he refused to do, and accordingly "the Governor sent for him in the night." No calamity scarcely could be imagined by the Puritans less tolerable than this interference of the Episcopalians with their places of worship. It was a grievous usurpation, closely allied to the general tyranny of the administration of Andros. Sewall, in his Diary, complains of the rattling of guns during public worship; "‘twas never so in Boston before." And then the Church of England men were present during worship, a matter doubtless of sore vexation to pastors and people, when we consider the situation and feelings of the two parties.

*For a few additional statements respecting Mr. Willard’s character as a President, see History of Harvard University, by Alden Bradford, LL.D., in the American Quarterly Register, ix. 346.

119 MEMOIR OF REV. SAMUEL WILLARD, M. A.

your acceptance and reward. Governor and Council order Mr. Winthrop and Mr. Brown to visit the Rev. Mr. Willard and thank him for his good service the six years past. Sent down for concurrence, and Deputies concur.

* This new tomb is in the Granary burying ground, and belongs to the heirs of the isle Robert Treat Paine.

† The following epitaph inscribed on the tombstone of Mr. Sherman, in the old burying ground in Watertown, was Written by Mr. Willard:

Johannis Shermanni maximae pietatis, gravitatis, et candoris viri,

in theologia. plurimum vesati,:

in concionando vere Chrysostomi;

in artibus liberalibus praecipue mathematicus incomparibilis:

Acquitamensis ecclesiae in Nov: Anglia fidelissimi pastoris:

Collegii Harvardini inspectoris et sucii:

Qui postquam assis plus minus XLV Christo fuit ( Unreadable word here, Willison Ed.)

in ecclesii fidus,

rnorte maatura transmigravit,

et a Christo palma decoratus est,

A. D. MDCLXXXV Augusti,

Ætatis suae LXXII:

Memoriae.

§ Father of the late Rev. John W., of Lunenburgh, Vt., and of the late Rev. Joseph W. of Lancanter, N.H. The latter was father of Hon. John Dwight Willard, formerly Tutor at Dartmouth College, and now of Troy, N.Y. and one of the Judges of the Court of Common Pleas.

120. MEMOIR OF REV. SAMUEL WILLARD, M. A.

Mr. Willard’s father was married when he came from England. His first wife was, according to the tradition in the family, Mary Sharpe. He here married second, Elizabeth Dunster, or as I have seen her called, Isabell Dunster, and third, Mary Dunster. They were, perhaps, both sisters of President Dunster. I have not been able to ascertain whether Mr. Willard was of the Dunster family, or was a son of Major Simon, by the first marriage. His great grandson, however, President Joseph Willard, as I have before stated, was a descendant, on the maternal side, from Mary the third wife of Major Simon, whom President Dunster, in his will, calls, " my sister Willard."

2. The Heart Garrisoned: an Artillery Election Sermon from Prov. iv. 23. 1676.

3. A Funeral Sermon upon Governor Leverett, from Ezek. xxii. 30, 31. 1679.

4. The Duty of a People that have renewed their Covenant, from josh xxiv. 22, 23.

1630.

5. Animadversions upon the New England Anabaptists’ fallacious narrative. 1681.

6. The Fiery Trial no Strange Thing, from I Pet. iv. 12. 1682.

* Now Kingston.

121 MEMOIR OF REV. SAMUEL WILLARD, M. A.

11. A Brief Discourse of Justification. 1686.

12. Heavenly Merchandize: in several Sermons from Prov. xxiii. 23.

1 Thess. iv. 13.

17. Promise Keeping, a Great Duty, from 2 Cor. i. 18.

18. The Sinfulness of worshipping God with Men’s Institutions, from Matt. xv. 9.

20. The Covenant of Redemption. 1693.

21. Rules for Discerning the Times, from Matt. xvi. 3.

22. The Law established by the Gospel, from Rom. iii. 31. 1691.

23. Reformation the Great Duty of an Afflicted People, front Levit. xxvi. 23, 24.

24. The Character of a Good Ruler: an Election Sermon front 2 Sam. xxiii. 3.

26. The Man of War: an Artillery Election Sermon from 1 Kings xix. 22 1699.

27. Spiritual Desertions Discovered and Remedied: in several Sermons from Ps. xxx. 7.

28. The Blessed Man : in several Sermons upon the 32d Psalm. 1700.

31. Love’s Pedigree, from 1 John iv. 19.

32. Morality not to be relied on for Life, from Mark x. 21.

33. A Remedy against Despair: two Sermons from Ps. xxv. ii.

35. Walking with God: two Sermons from Gen. v. 24.

36. The Fear of an Oath, from Eccl. ix. 2.

37. The Best Privilege, from Rom. iii. 1, 2.

39. The Checkered State of the Gospel Church, from Zech. xiv. 6, 7.

40. A Brief Reply to Mr. George Keith. 1703.

41. The Just Man’s Prerogative, from Prov. xii. 21. 1706.

42. Israel’s True Safety, from Rom. viii. 31. 1704.

"There are also," say Messrs. Sewall and Prince, "many other excellent treatises prepared by the author for the press, viz

Directions to the Candidates for the Ministry.

Several Sermons upott the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper.

Expositions upon the whole of the Psalms.

The Epistles to the Romans, Corinthians, Galatians,

with many others which the world may be also obliged with if due encouragement be given."

The preface to Rev. John Higginson’s Legacy of Peace was written by him.

CONDUCTED BY

PRINTED BY PERKINS & MARVIN.

1840.

The text of this and other superb works are available on-line from:

The Willison Politics and Philosophy Resource Center

http://willisoncenter.com/

Reprint and digital file May 20, 2000.

This document was scanned from an original copy of the American Education Society’s Quarterly Register, which served as a digest of the diverse facets in American Education and its outflowing effects worldwide. The society was comprised of leading Harvard, Yale, Dartmouth and Princeton Alumni, and served to promote the work both in the U.S. and abroad for educating the people in the Reformation’s worldview of the Bible serving as the only infallible rule of life, which, of course, was the purpose for which these schools were founded.

Please note: The year of publication appears in brackets heading the scan of each page, and the page number follows the title.

VOL. XII. FEBRUARY, 1840. No. 3. 217

MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D.

THE family, from which Dr. Livingston was descended, is honorably noticed in Scottish history. One of his ancestors was Lord Livingston, afterwards the Earl of Linlithgow, who, with Lord Erskine, had the care of Mary Queen of Scots, in the castle of Dumbarton, in 1547. His daughter, Mary Livingston, was one of the four Manes that accompanied the queen to France as her companions.

The great-great-grandfather of the subject of this memoir, was the eminently pious minister of the gospel, and the common ancestor of the Livingston family in this country, the Rev. John Livingston. He was born in Monyabroch, Stirlingshire, Scotland, June 21,1603. He preached his first sermon, January ~, 1625. He delivered a discourse at the kirk of Shotts, June 20, 1630, which was followed by a remarkable display of divine influence. About five hundred persons, as it was thought, there experienced a saving moral change. He was soon after settled over a church in Killinchie, Ireland. Here an extraordinary manifestation of divine power attended his preaching. By the instrumentality of two sermons as it was supposed, not less than fifteen hundred persons were either renewed in holiness, or were greatly quickened in the Christian life. Mr. Livingston now became an object of bitter persecution; was proceeded against for non-conformity, and actually deposed. He now determined to emigrate to New England. The vessel, however, to which he had set sail, was driven back by adverse winds, and the design was abandoned. In 1638, he was settled in Stranrawer, in Scotland. While here, he was sent several times by the General Assembly, on a missionary tour to some vacant parishes in Ireland. These labors were very arduous, and were greatly useful. In 1648, he removed to Ancrum, in Tiviotdale. From this place, through the intolerant spirit of the times, he was compelled to flee. He went first to England. In 1663, he fled to Holland, and settled in Rotterdarn. His wife and two children followed him, while five children remained in Scotland. He died August 9, 16?2, aged 69.

Robert Livingston, the son of John, and the great-grandfather of the subject of this memoir, came over to America, it is believed, soon after his father’s death. The patent for the manor of Livingston was granted in 1689. Smith, in his history of New York, states, that he was a principal agent for the convention, which met in Albany in 1689, and that he became peculiarly obnoxious to his adversaries, because he was a "man of sense and resolution." He was connected in marriage with the Schuyler

[1840] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 218

family, and had three sons, Philip, Robert and Gilbert. Among the children of Philip, were Philip Livingston, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, and William Livingston, LL. D., Governor of New Jersey. Robert had only one son, Robert, the head of the Clermont family, as it is sometimes called by way of distinction, and to which belonged the late Chancellor Livingston.

[ * The number in Dr. Livingston’s class when they graduated was forty-two. Among them were the following clergymen: Rev. Joseph Huntington, D D., Eleazor Stone, Richard Clar,. Gideon Bostwick, Theodore Hindsdale, Benjamin Mills, Jedidiah Chapman, Daniel Fuller, David Brownson, Burrage Merriam, and Whitman Welch. ]

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 219

momentous concerns of eternity took entire possession of his mind. He saw his true character and condition as a sinner, and was, for a season in deep distress. It pleased the Lord, at length, to lift upon him the light of his reconciled countenance and give him joy and peace. Bunyan’s "Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners," seems to have been the means which first excited great alarm in his mind. Doddridge’s "Rise and Progress" gave him more correct and enlarged views of religion than he had previously possessed. He perused it with great attention, and hoped to experience the power of the truths developed in the book as they occurred in succession. His chief attention was fixed upon the Scriptures. "Convictions of sin, of guilt, of misery," he says, "became clear and pungent; and some confused idea of redemption through a Saviour, and the possibility of pardon, and the restoration of my depraved nature, engaged my thoughts and prayers, without intermission. For several months, I could do nothing but read and meditate, plead at a throne of grace, and weep over my wretched and lost estate. As new inquiries and difficulties arose, and new truths, with their inseparable consequences, came under consideration, I repaired to the Bible, I supplicated for light and instruction, and had to contend, study and struggle for every article of faith in succession. Two doctrines, above all others, engaged my ardent attention, and caused a severe and long conflict. The first was the divinity of the Lord .Jesus Christ. I saw in his word, that he was a great Saviour, that the Father was well pleased in his Son, and that sinners, the chief of sinners, were accepted in the Beloved. I believed that he was able to save, even to the uttermost, all who came unto God by him. The other doctrine which fixed my attention, and excited much care and study, respected justification. A conviction of misery, of pollution and inability, assured me of the impossibility of my being accepted of God, either in whole or in part, for any thing to he produced or performed by me. I was fully convinced that without a better righteousness than my own, I must and should perish for ever. This conviction prompted me most attentively to read, and with fervent prayer to study the word of God. I made no use of commentaries, nor any human aid, but perused and compared again and again the sacred Scriptures, especially the prophecy of Isaiah, the epistles of Paul to the Romans and the Galatians, the first epistle of Peter, and the gospel of John. These I attentively read; upon these I meditated, and with a sincere desire for instruction, continually supplicated the throne of grace to be led into the truth, preserved from error, and established in the doctrine of the gospel. And it pleased the Lord, I trust, to give me the light and instruction I sought. The righteousness of Christ, comprising his active amid passive obedience, and the imputation of that righteousness to every soul who receives the Saviour by faith, and thus, by his Spirit, becomes united to him, which is the basis upon which imputation rests, were rendered so intelligible, clear and convincing to my mind, that I considered the result to be the teaching of the Holy Spirit by his word, and received it, and submitted to it, as such, without any wavering or carnal disputation. That the atonement of Christ was specific, complete, and worthy of all acceptation, I was sure."

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 220

"The first alarm, respecting a change in my comfortable frames was occasioned by a sermon I one morning heard the celebrated Whitefield preach. His text was Ps. xl. 1—3. In the introduction, he said, he had intended to preach upon another subject, but this passage was impressed with such power upon his mind, that he was constrained to take it; and I believe,’ said be, ‘there is one now present for whom God designs this to be a word in season. ‘The young convert, rejoicing in hope, and in a lively frame, expects he shall always proceed, with swelling sails, before a propitious gale of consolations, but remember’ (and I thought he pointedly and solemnly addressed me) ‘that at some period of your life, you will come into a situation and exercises, which you will denominate with David, a horrible pit and miry clay; there you will remain until your patience is severely tried. Yet be of good courage; the Lord will bring you out with triumphant songs of deliverance. He will set your feet upon a rock, and establish your goings. Your restoration will be equal to your first joys. Be of good cheer. Look unto Jesus. The victory is sure.’ From that hour, I considered this word intended for me, and have anticipated its fulfilment. In the progress of my spiritual warfare, I have experienced it, though I still wait for its highest accomplishment.’’

About this time a remarkable occurrence in Providence made an indelible impression on his mind, he had determined to accompany a young friend on a voyage to the West Indies, as the health of both was feeble. After his preparations were made, to the surprise of his friends, he suddenly gave up the voyage. His friend sailed without him. When the voyage was nearly completed, two of the crew seized the vessel, and murdered all on board except a little boy. They then gave themselves up to intoxication, and in this condition, while in sight of the island of St. Thomas, it so happened, providentially for their speedy detection, that they ordered the boy to row them ashore. He did so; and then, as soon as out of their power, informed against them. They were immediately pursued. One fled to St. Eustatia, but was there seized, and broken upon the wheel. The other, whose name was Anderson, was taken in the island of St. Thomas, and sent back to New York. After his trial, he was there executed, on an island in the bay, near the city, which, from that circumstance, has been called ‘Anderson’s’ or ‘Gibbet Island.’

Mr. Livingston was now led to contemplate an entrance upon the work of preaching the gospel. For some time, however, it appeared to him to be so momentous, and the danger of failure in it so great, that he hesitated. The solemn words, " Who hath required this at your hand to tread my courts," were continually sounding in his ears. He repeatedly observed days of fasting and prayer for divine guidance. On one occasion, he committed to writing in one column, all the arguments in favor of entering the ministry; in the other, those against it. He endeavored most accurately to examine his motives, and ascertain the end which he proposed. At

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 221

length, he concluded, that he was called to undertake the labors of this most responsible office. His father promptly and cheerfully assented to his design, and engaged to render him the necessary pecuniary assistance.

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 222

whom the plan was formally adopted. A copy of it was at once forwarded to Holland, but no answer was returned for eight or nine years. A favorable response at last arrived, and in the fall of 1747, the Coetus was organized. This body, however, possessed no right of independent ordination, nor any of the essential powers of a classis. It was not till 1753, that a motion was made to form a regular classis. It was not a little mortifying to several friends of the church, that congregations should still be compelled to send to Holland for ministers, when the foreign chassis, not knowing exactly the character and circumstances of a vacant congregation, was not always the most happy in the selection of a supply. It often happened too, after the transmission of a call, a vacancy remained for years without the regular ministrations of the gospel. The proposal, though very popular in many places, alarmed the adherents of the classis of Amsterdam. These commenced a course of the most determined opposition. They first met in 1755, and called themselves ‘Conferentic.’ The ministers of this party were the Rev. Messrs. Haeghoort, Curtenius, Ritzema, De Ronde, Van der Linde, Schuyler, Van Sinderin, Rubel, Freyenmoet, Kock, Kern and Rysdyck. The parties were nearly equal in numerical strength. The Coetus excelled in ‘‘ practical preaching, zeal and industry ;" the Conferentic had the greatest share of learning. The two bodies took their stand against each other, and carried on a ‘‘long, obstinate and dreadful conflict." The peace of the churches was destroyed; neighboring ministers and churches were set at variance; houses of worship were locked by one part of a congregation against the other; tumults on the Lord’s day, at the doors of the churches, were frequent, and the virulence of party spirit produced the most disastrous effects.

Another topic, which occasioned vehement disputes, was the introduction of the English language. Long after the country was in the possession of Great Britain, the Dutch used their own language in their families, schools, public worship and civil business. The governors, however thought it good policy to encourage English preachers and schoolmasters in the colony ; the Episcopal church was patronized and finally established virtually by law ; the civil courts performed their business in the English language; English families multiplied English schools and merchants shops were increased intermarriages between English and Dutch families occasionally took place. Many of the young people, particularly in the city of New York, who had grown up in the constant use of the English language, no longer sit with profit under Dutch preaching. Unwilling to leave the church of their fathers—the church in which they had been baptized, and to which, for that and other reasons, they felt much attached—they ventured to urge the necessity of a substitution of the English for the Dutch language in the church service. Some respectable families had already left the Dutch communion on account of the language, and united with other churches, but still many, especially the aged, contended that the very existence of the church depended on the continued use of the language. The request made for a change was received with indignation, and resisted to the utmost. The aggrieved party feared that the alteration would necessarily involve the loss of the doctrines, the mode of worship, the government, and the very name of the church.

At length, the Consistory resolved to call a minister to preach in the English language and in order, if possible, to conciliate the disaffected portion, they determinned to send to Holland, and procure a minister through the medium of the classis of Amsterdam. The chassis very promptly complied with the request, and sent Mr. Archibald Laidlie, a minister of

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 223

the English church at Flushing in Zealand, and a member of the classis of Walcheren. Mr. Laidlie was a native of Scotland, and was educated at the University of Edinburgh. He preached his first sermon in New York, the first ever delivered in the English language in the Dutch church, April 15, 1764, to a very crowded and attentive auditory. To show the warm affection with which some persons greeted him, it is remarked that they gathered around him, at the close of one of the evening meetings, saying, "Ah, Dominie! we offered up many an earnest prayer, in Dutch, for your coming among us; and truly the Lord hath heard us, in English, and has sent you to us." Mr. Laidlie, (subsequently honored with the title of doctor in divinity by the College of New Jersey,) was a man of ardent piety, and of unquestionable pulpit talents. He also possessed more than common discernment and prudence. He complied with the existing practices of the church in the most trivial things, and treated with the utmost respect the patrons of the Dutch language.

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 224

who attended to the different branches of science, repaired to their own respective lecture-rooms, and had little or no knowledge of any others. And, as there were several professors, even of the same science each of them had a distinct number of students, who seldom associated familiarly with those who attended a different professor."

he thought and wrote and even prayed in secret, uudesignedly, sometimes in Latin, sometimes in Dutch."

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 225

The Dutch congregation in New York, having erected a new house of worship, called the North Church, determined to invite a minister who would be able to preach in the English language. Accordingly, a regular call to Mr. Livingston was made out by the Consistory on the 31st of March, 1769. This North, or Third Church, was opened for divine service, by Dr. Laidlie, on the 25th of May.

Mr. Livingston, having finished his studies at the university, appeared before the classis of Amsterdam, on the 5th of June, 1769, to be examined for licensure. His examination proving satisfactory, he became a candidate for the ministry, or what is called in Holland, a proponent. His first sermon was preached in the Dutch language, in a village east of Amsterdam. He soon after preached in Dutch at a city in North Holland, in English in the English church in Amsterdam, and in English in the Scotch church in Rotterdam. His first labors in the ministry were acceptable in a high degree. Expecting to remain some time in Holland, and supposing that it might be of some advantage to him to be able to produce in his native land what was then regarded as a valuable testimonial of proficiency in theology—the degree of doctor in divinity—he concluded to present himself before the theological faculty of the University of Utrecht, a candidate for the same. It was not customary for that university to confer honorary degrees; and the distinction now sought could not be attained, without passing through a pretty severe ordeal. The candidate must be examined and reexamined, and after being sifted by the learned faculty for a whole day, he must produce and prepare himself to defend the next day, against the adverse arguments of the professors, two short discourses, the subjects to be selected for him, the one from the Old Testament, and the other from the New. And he must answer, write and defend altogether in the Latin language. Then another dissertation was to be prepared arid published, in Latin, to be publicly supported before the whole university.

Mr. Livingston accordingly wrote a dissertation De Foedere Sinaitico, and sent it to the press. A depression of spirits, however, caused him suddenly to stop the printing of his dissertation, and to prepare to leave the country. He was ordained on the 2d of April, invested with the ministerial office, and consigned to the church of New York. While at Rotterdam, preparing to embark, he received a letter from an Amsterdam friend, censuring his conduct in relation to the theological degree, and strongly urging him to the final step necessary to its acquisition. On deliberation, he determined to follow the advice. He then abridged and printed his dissertation. On the 16th of May, 1770, he had his trial, when he was just twenty-four years of age. The assembly convened, a band of music attended, and much splendid ceremony was observed.

[* The letter in which it is asserted that a charter had been granted for this literary institution is dated September, 1767. But the charter of Queen’s College, ( now Rutgers,) which was originally established by the Coetus Party, is dated March 20, 1770. To account for the discrepency between the letter and the charter, as to the date of this instrument, it is to be presumed that only an institution of a secondary order was at first contemplated. When it was determined to make it a college, a new charter was procured, or the old one retained, with the necessary alterations, and additions, newly dated. ]

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 226

Several gentlemen controverted some of the positions advanced in his dissertation. The disputation lasted nearly two hours. Shortly after it closed, the degree of doctor in theology was conferred on him, in the usual forms.

Dr. Livingston preached, on the second Sabbath after his arrival, in the Middle Church in Nassau Street, to a large and attentive auditory, from I Cor. i. 22—24. He was then acknowledged, in a suitable manner, as one of the ministers of the Reformed Dutch church in New York. He commenced the discharge of his pastoral duties with great diligence and zeal. He assumed at once a full share of pulpit and parochial labors, preaching regularly twice on the Sabbath, making visits among the people, and attending two, and sometimes, three catechetical exercises every week. The fervor of pious feeling which be uniformly discovered both in and out of the pulpit ; his affectionate, dignified and prudent deportment; and the style of his preaching, novel, yet plain and forcible, admirably fitted to engage attention, to alarm the consciences of sinners, and particularly to comfort and build up believers in faith and holiness, rendered him, in a high degree, beloved and popular. His labors, though arduous, were pleasant. Favored with a number of pious and devoted friends, who sincerely and constantly prayed for him, and who, by various little attentions and expressions of kind solicitude, encouraged, without flattering him, he was cheered and sustained in his work. Being blessed also with a coadjutor in Dr. Laidlie, who was well acquainted with the state of the congregation, and who was ever ready to afford him all the counsel and assistance in his power—he labored with alacrity and diligence, while his usefulness and reputation daily increased.

Considering his youth, and his station, it was necessary that he should apply himself closely to study. He employed almost every moment, which was not otherwise occupied, in the vigorous pursuit of knowledge, and in the preparation of his sermons, he read, thought and wrote, with scarce any intermission, except what was requisite for attending to the other important duties of his station. At the beginning of’ his ministry, he wrote his sermons entirely out, and committed them to memory; but finding that his health was affected by such severe labor, he afterwards accustomed himself to preach from full notes, or what he called a copious analysis. This mode of preaching gave a freer scope for the exercise of his powers; it was precisely suited to his peculiar gifts. Often time amplitude of his intellectual views was so striking, and the degree of feeling with which he delivered his discourses was so deep, and his manner of addressing his hearers was so singular and impressive, that he was heard with the deepest attention and with great delight. Pious and judicious persons considered him to be a preacher of first-rate excellence. By his public ministrations, by the habitual suavity of his manners in private intercourse, and by his unwearied exertions to do good at all times and in all places, he soon acquired an influence, which is rarely possessed by one so young in the service of his Master.

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 227

The convention having proceeded in the business as far as it was then deemed advisable, adjourned to meet again the next October. In the meantime what they had already done with so much harmony and good feeling, had a gradual and salutary operation in diffusing a spirit of forbearance and love.

In October, 1772, the convention reassembled, and the letter of the classis of Amsterdam, officially certifying that the Plan of Union had been approved by them, was laid before it. Every member then subscribed the articles, and the good work was thus formally and solemnly consummated.

This event proved a most auspicious one to the Dutch church in this country. As the original projector, the pious, prudent and persevering promoter of the union, Dr. Livingston will be had in grateful and honor able remembrance while the church endures. He had, indeed, zealous cooperators, particularly, in the Rev. Drs. Laidlie, Westerlo and Romeyn, and Rev. Messrs. Hardenbergh, Light, Ver Breyck and Rysdick but Dr. Livingston is preeminently entitled to the high honor of having been the peace—maker. The station to which he had been elevated in the convention, though but twenty-five years old, and though he had been then but one year in the ministry, is indisputable evidence of the opinion entertained of his talents and of his character by his brethren of both parties.

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 228

Many families now retired from the city of New York into the country. Many more soon followed them. Among these was the family of the Hon. Philip Livingston, a distinguished patriot and a member of Congress. In the month of October, 1775, he retired with his household to Kingston in the county of Ulster. With Sarah, the youngest daughter of this gentleman, Dr. Livingston had previously entered into a matrimonial engagement. In the month of October, 1776, they were united in marriage, a union which was eminently happy for all parties concerned. Mrs. Livingston was a lady of good sense, of a mild and affectionate disposition, of great prudence, and of eminent piety.*

Dr. Livingston was himself a decided friend of the American cause, and like many other clergymen, offered up fervent prayers for its success. He took up his residence in the family of his father-in-law, and visited the city for the performance of ministerial duty, as often as it was practicable, and as long as it was considered proper to continue religious services there, till the autumn of 1776, when the British took possession of the city. He was then invited by the Consistory of the Dutch church in Albany to preach in that city while he should be excluded from his pastoral charge. He accordingly removed to Albany in the month of November. In 1777, Kingston was burnt by the British, and the family of his father-in-law retired to Sharon, Ct. The winter climate of Albany proving too severe for Mrs. Livingston, he removed in the summer of 1779 to Livingston’s Manor, in hopes that this change of situation would be beneficial to her health. In April, 1780, he received a call from the church in Albany to become their pastor. This call he felt it to be his duty to decline.

Dr. Livingston, subsequently, preached in the village of Lithgow, near the Livingston Manor- House. He spent the two following years, 1781, l782, in Pooughkeepsie, in his father’s mansion, and supplied the pulpit of the Dutch church in the town. At the close of 1783, the conflict with Great Britain was brought to a close. New York city was evacuated by the British troops November 25, 1783. Dr. Livingston thereupon returned and resumed his pastoral charge. It was a season of joy as well as of sorrow. Two of the places of worship belonging to the Dutch church had been

[* The eldest daughter of the Hon. Philip Livingston was the mother of the late Gen. Stephen Van Rensselaer of Albany; the second, who was married to a Dr. Thomas Jones, was the mother of Mrs. Clinton, the widow of De Witt Clinton. }

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 229

wantonly abused, and were in a ruinous state. Many sad changes had also taken place by death. His beloved and venerable colleague, Dr. Laidlie, was numbered with the dead.*

In a memoir of the Rev. David S. Bogart‡ we find the following sentences: " It appears that Mr. Bogart early exhibited evidences of piety, and in the year 1786, at the age of sixteen, he was received a member of the Collegiate Reformed Dutch church, then under the pastoral care of the Rev. Dr. John H. Livingston. The ministry of Dr. L., who, for a short time succeeding the Revolution, was sole pastor, was about this time greatly blessed. A deep religions influence was widely extended, the fruit of which was found in large accessions to the church. It has been our privilege to be acquainted with several who were the subjects of this influence, the characteristics of whose piety was of a peculiarly pleasant arid ripened kind."

Dr. Livingston himself participated in the influence which so graciously and copiously accompanied his ministrations. The large accessions, made to the church from time to time, comforted and encouraged him, and his work, with these convincing tokens of the Divine presence, if debilitating to his body, was nevertheless a delightful one.

[* He died in Red Hook, in 1789, of a pulmonary disease. The two Dutch pators, Messrs. Ritzems and De Ronde, did not again return to the city. The former remained at Kinderhook, and the latter was settled at Schaghtcoke. The Consistory of the church granted to each an annuity of £ 200 for life.

† After the Revolution, every particular assembly was called a classis, and the General Assembly a Particular Synod. There were, at this tme, between seventy and eighty Dutch congregations in the State of New York, and about forty in New Jersey; of the former, three classes were constituted; of the latter two, which were to meet ordinarily twice a year. A General Synod was also soon formed, composed of all the ministers of the church with each an elder, and one from every vacant congregation.

‡ See the New York Observer, October 12, 1839, for a notice of Mr. Bogart, extracted from the funeral sermon of the Rev. Thomas De Witt, D.D. ]

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 230

entitled "The Constitution of the Reformed Dutch Church, in the United States of America."

In 1804, another attempt was made to revive the theological school. Dr. Livingston was chosen the permanent professor, whose temporary seat should be the city of New York, " subject, however, at all times, to the government of Synod, with respect to a more eligible and expedient place for this purpose." Rev. John Bassett arid Rev. Jeremiah Romeyn were appointed professors of the Hebrew language.

In 1807, the trustees of Queen’s College, having resolved to revive the institution under their care, made a communication to that effect to the

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 231

General Synod. The proposal was cordially approved by the latter body. About $10,000 were immediately raised in the city of New York for the support of a professorship of theology in Queen’s College. To this professorship, as well as to the presidency of the institution, Dr. Livingston was soon invited.

In 1819, the Board of Superintendents of the Theological School thus report. " With gratitude to the great Head of the church, the Board inform the Synod, that the health and usefulness of their venerable professor, Livingston, are still continued and that, at his advanced age, he is, with his visual devotedness and ability, blessing the church, by communicating to her successive ministers that theological information, for which he is so eminently distinguished."

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 232

blessed Lord and Saviour, and to finish my course with joy, and increased faithfulness and usefulness." I expect and hope soon to change my trials and tears, my sighs and conflicts, for high hallelujahs and perpetual praises." " My health is gradually becoming better and more confirmed, yet I feel very feeble, and am not yet restored to my former vigor. Perhaps I never shall be. It is all right. I have had a long day, and a good day and if at evening time it shall be light, the mercy shall be great, and I shall commit my departing spirit into his hand, who has redeemed me, without distracting fears or unbelieving doubts."

"As a theologian,’’ says the Rev. Robert Forrest, "his great forte lay in that which was systematical and practical. He had studied, with the utmost diligence, the writings of those distinguished men who reflected so much honor upon Holland arid Geneva, during the seventeenth and the beginning of the eighteenth centuries. It did not appear to me that his talents qualified him for a successful controversialist ; but in the faculty of illustrating the Christian system, and in exhibiting its spiritual and moral tendencies, for the instruction of theological students, or a Christian

[1840.] MEMOIR OF THE REV. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D. D. 233

The warmth and constancy of his devotional feelings," says Dr. Milledoller,* ‘‘ formed a very striking and prominent feature in his character. No person could be long in his presence without perceiving that he was conversing with a man of God, nor depart from it, if he had a kindred spirit, without receiving some new impulse of holy love, and increased fidelity to Heaven. By the weight of his character, and the combined dignity and courtesy of his manners, he acquired an influence over the minds and hearts of those with whom he associated, which is rarely attained. This was experienced by old and young, rich and poor, not only by members of his own, but also of other denominations, and that to such a degree, that it was difficult to come in contact with him, and not feel his superiority. In that branch of the church with which he was more particularly connected, he had, and has left no compeer."

Dr. L.," remarks the Rev. Dr. Janeway, " was eminently pious and devout. He lived near to the throne of grace. His gift in prayer was great. He drew nigh to the mercy-seat with reverence; but he pleaded with the freedom and confidence which a child uses with a parent, whom he reveres and loves. He once remarked, that the prayers of an advanced Christian are distinguished, not by going over the lofty titles of Jehovah, but by using the tender appellation of ‘Father.’" " For the duties of a theological professor, when I had the advantage of attending his lectures, he was eminently qualified, and second to no man in this country. He was learned and extensively read in theological books, especially those written in the Dutch and Latin languages. With the Greek and Hebrew he was acquainted. So familiar was he with the Latin, that as he once informed me, while in Holland pursuing his studies, be used to dream in that language.

The characteristic of this venerable man," says the Rev. Dr. Samuel Miller, "which most deeply impressed me at my first acquaintance with him, and which continued to deepen its impression on me, up to my last interview with him, was his ardent, habitual piety. I know not that I ever met with a man, whose daily and hourly conversation indicated a mind more unremittingly devout, or more strongly marked with the exercises of the deeply experimental Christian." " As a preacher, he deservedly enjoyed a high reputation. He seldom or never, I believe, wrote his sermons fully out; and very often, more especially towards the close of life, preached without writing at all. Hence he was by no means remarkable for that terse, polished, rhetorical style of sermonizing, in which some distinguished preachers have succeeded so admirably. The great excellence of his preaching consisted rather in the solidity and excellence of the matter, than in the refinement of the manner. He was generally diffuse, sometimes circuitous in his expositions and illustrations; but generally rich in thought always solemn and experimental; sometimes in a high degree powerful; and seldom failed to keep up, and to reward to the last, the attention of all classes of his hearers, especially of the more deeply pious."

NOTE. For the greater part of the facts contained in the preceding sketch, we are indebted to the interesting Memoir of Dr. Livingston,, prepared by the Rev. Alexander Gunn, D.D. of New York,and published in 1829, in one vol. Svo.

[ * See sketch of Or. Livingston’s character, by the Rev. Philip Milledoller, D.D.,in the New York Observer, February 5, 1825. ]

By ALEXANDER YOUNG.

Boston, May 10^th, 1840

At a meeting of the Society worshipping at Church Green, held after the morning services this day, the Hon. William Prescott presiding as Moderator, the following Resolutions were unanimously passed:

Resolved, That the Standing Committee be desired to express the thanks of this Society to the Rev. Mr. Young for his able and interesting Discourse on the Character of the Rev. Dr. Kirkland, and to request a copy of it for the press; and that they cause the same to be printed when the copy shall be obtained.

B. A. Gould,

Secretary pro tempore.

Boston:

Freeman and Holles, Printers,

Washington Street

https://www.angelfire.com/nh/politicalscience

Reprint and digital file January, 2000

*****

Daniel V. 11, 12.

On former occasions, in the regular course of my ministrations in this place as a Christian teacher, I have spoken to you, my hearers, of Christianity as the chief agent in human progress and cultivation; and have endeavored to portray the mighty effects which its introduction and diffusion, have gradually produced on the moral and social condition of man, and the entire change which its establishment has brought about in the aspect of the civilized world. At the present time I propose to take a somewhat different view of the same comprehensive topic, and confining myself to a narrower range of observation, point out what our religion has done for the intellectual culture of our race; and for the promotion of good learning> Its services in this province are hardly less remarkable; and I trust are not unsuitable nor unworthy to be presented to the notice of a Christian congregation.

I begin with observing that Christianity is necessarily connected with letters. Being a historical and documentary religion, built upon facts, early committed to writing, and derived by us at the present day solely from records, it cannot be illiterate, nor dispense with the instruments and aids of human learning. This revelation has come down to us recorded in an ancient language, which is no longer spoken. In order to ascertain its precise import, and transfuse it into modern tongues, erudition in indispensable. I do not mean to say that it is necessary that all persons should have it; for I hold that the simplest and least instructed Christian can obtain from any version of the New Testament, however, defective or erroneous it may be, all needful light and all saving truth. He who runs may read and understand. The Word is written in capitols as with a sunbeam. It is not now, as it once was, "a very learned, and a very subtle, and a very ingenious thing, to be a good Christian" But I do mean to say, that there must be knowledge somewhere of the original, in order to convert it, however inadequately, into the spoken languages of the present day, and to make the treasures of divine wisdom accessible, even in an imperfect form, to the people at large. The translators and expositors of the Word, the teachers and the defenders of the faith, must possess acquired learning as well as native genius and good sense. There is no getting along without it. There must be some persons qualified to translate and interpret our sacred books. Nobody knows Greek now-a-days by inspiration.

[ Ed. Note: since the time of this writing (1840), Bibles which were intentionally mistranslated from the original language to deny the Trinitarian Deity of Christ have been published. Please see our 1810 Daniel Dana reprint, "The Deity of Christ" for further research on this crucial point]

The Gospel, in order to be thoroughly understood in all its parts and relations, requires to be studied. Its evidences and its doctrines demand and deserve a minute and patient investigation. They are capable of tasking the profoundest intellects; and such men as Grotius, Newton, and Locke, had not the vanity to imagine that by mere intuition they could grasp divine truth in all its vast extant.

Christianity became very early connected with literature, and received from it substantial benefits, which it repaid by the most important services. Resting upon a written record, this record became the text of written comments, and in this was all literature ranged itself under its protecting banner. The progress of letters was inseparable from the progress of religion; it was in the language of Homer and Virgil that the Fathers of the Church explained and defended the principles of their faith. One of the most valuable services that Christianity rendered to learning, was by preserving the classical languages, the Latin in particular, from extinction, when the ancient civilization was overrun and buried by the irruption of the barbarians, and by keeping the knowledge, that was locked up in them, until the modern world was ready to receive, and able to comprehend and apply it. This it did, mainly, by making Latin the language of the Church. Its liturgy was read, its litany was chanted, its ritual was performed, all its offices of worship were offered, in this language. The Vulgate translation of the Scriptures was in Latin, and the correspondence of its widely diffused clergy was carried on through the same medium. The effect of this was to make Latin a universal language, at least so far as the clergy was concerned; it was the sacerdotal and ecclesiastical language. Every priest was obliged to learn it. It saved it too from corruption; for in the midst of the fluctuation of languages, -----that second Babel---when the ancient were passing into the modern, the use of the Latin by the Church preserved and fixed it. In the Middle Ages all the literature that existed was in the Church, among the clergy. They were its depositaries and conservators. During this dark period, Christianity was not only the conservative principle of social order and of sacred charities of life, but the sole guardian of ancient knowledge, letters, and arts. It made a bridge, as it were, across the chaos, and linked the two periods of ancient and modern civilization. We are indebted to it likewise for preserving the copies of the Roman civil law; and this code being generally adopted in Christian nations, helped in return to preserve the Latin language and literature.

The Church, from the very beginning, has always nurtured in her bosom a body of intelligent and learned ecclesiastics, competent to explain her sacred books, and vindicate her claims, and command for her teachings the attention and respect of erudite and thoughtful men. In every age Christianity has exercised and strengthened the human mind, and the Christians of every period, from the introduction of the Gospel to the present time, have been the foremost and most successful in cultivating the intellect, and enlarging the dominions of knowledge. The Fathers of the Church were, many of them, men of learning, and of deep and vigorous thought. Witness their Apologetics an behalf of their adopted faith. When, too, an intellectual darkness shadowed the earth for nine centuries, the little light that glimmered through the gloom, shone through the lattice of the cloister. The monastic institution was the great depositary and guardian of the treasures of literature as well as of revelation. It shielded from barbarian violence, and saved from natural decay, the classic as well as the evangelic records. By patient hand of the Christian monk were these precious documents transcribed and perpetuated. Unless men and institutions had existed, the knowledge which mankind had been for ages slowly accumulating, would have gradually mouldered away with the few perishing manuscripts which contained it. Europe would have become what Turkey is, and mankind would have been now slowly emerging into the infancy of literature and science, instead of rejoicing in that noble manhood we have obtained. And let it be remembered that the revival of letters was coeval with, and derived no small degree of its impetus and energy, from the spirit of religious reformation, which was then beginning to work mightily. Luther and Erasmus were contemporaries, and for a time coadjutors.

Again. Observe what religion has done for education. The Church has always taken the lead in this great work. Christianity, at a very early period, manifested a strong and decided interest in the instruction of the young; and it was an act of jealous but politic tyranny in the apostate Julian to interdict its disciples altogether from taking a part in popular education. Even in the dark ages there were always schools in the monasteries, or attached to the cathedrals, by which means the rudiments of learning, at least, were kept alive. These schools were originally founded in the sixth century by some of the bishops and abbots to supply the place of the imperial schools overthrown by the barbarians. Colleges were originally seminaries for the education of the clergy; and large congregations of religious men, like the Benedictines, devoted themselves, by the express articles of their institution, to the cultivation of letters and the instruction of youth. Their abbeys were asylums, in which science and learning took refuge and found protection. All the universities of Europe were established by priests, bishops, or religious princes, and all were under the direction of ecclesiastics. The university of Paris was founded by Alcuin, a learned English monk, the preceptor of Charlemagne, who opened the eyes of Europe to learning and the arts. Most of the schools in France were either established or improved by him, and his scholars spread the light of learning through the empire of the Franks. In England there were no means nor incitements to intellectual culture until the introduction of Christianity. The universities of Oxford and Cambridge were originally religious foundations, Christian establishments; and the men and the works which they have sent forth,---their Bacons, their Newtons, their Hookers, their Barrows, their Jeremy Taylors, their Spensers, their Miltons, their Cowpers, ---we owe to the influence of the Christian religion. Strike from English literature the Christian element--- blot out the productions which religion has suggested and called forth---destroy the writings of its divines and its religious laymen,---and what would you have left ? ( Footnote: In confirmation of the views and statements here given I refer to Hallam’s History of Europe during the Middle Ages, and his introduction to the Literature of Europe during the Fifteenth, Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, Guizot’s History of Civilization in Europe, Sharon Turner’s History of England during the Middle Ages, Milman’s History of Christianity, Chateaubriand’s Genie du Christianisme, and Madame de Staël, De la Litterature consideree dans ses rapports avee les institutions sociales.)

"Learning has borne such fruit in other days

On all her branches. Piety has found

Friends in the friends of science, and true prayer

Has flowed from the lips wet with Castalian dews."

In all parts of Christendom, in all ages, education has been faithful and indefatigable in their supervision of it. They perceived that religion ought to go hand in hand with human learning ; they felt that sound morals and the spirit of reverence and piety should enter the youthful mind simultaneously with the elements of knowledge. In New England, from its first settlement, the clergy have been the overseers of public instruction, from the village school up to the University. They have taken the lead with a generous enthusiasm in every thing connected with education and literature. The Plymouth Pilgrims left Holland partly because their children were in danger of being corrupted in morals, and because there were no schools but the Dutch, at which they could be instructed; and they could not bear the thought of their losing their native language and the treasures of English learning. And the fathers of Massachusetts had hardly set foot on this bleak and desolate coast before they planted the church and the school-house side by side, and as they grew in numbers, multiplied them in every village, as they are now to be seen the whole country over. It was only six years after the settlement of Boston that our venerable University,---was founded, the General Court voting four hundred pounds,---equal to a year’s rate of the whole colony,---towards the erection of a "public school or college."

Most of the ministers and magistrates that first came over, were accomplished scholars, having been educated in the best schools and universities of the old world, and well skilled in all the learning and theology of the times. It has been computed by the sagacious editor of Gov.Winthrop’s History of New England, that as early as 1638, there were dwelling in the few villages of Massachusetts and Conneticut forty or fifty sons of the University of Cambridge in Old England, one for every two hundred or two hundred and fifty inhabitants; and the sons of Oxford were not a few. (Footnote: Winthrop’s History of New England, Savage’s edition, i. 265, Note.) The leading object of our fathers in establishing the College, was manifestly to provide learned and competent ministers for the churches. Thus one of our earliest writers, whose book was published in 1643, says, "After God had carried us safe to New England, and we had builded our houses, provided necessaries for our livelihood, and settled the civil government; one of the next things we longed for and looked after was to advance learning and perpetuate it to posterity; dreading to leave an illiterate ministry to the churches when our present ministers shall sleep in the dust. And as we were thinking and consulting how to effect this great work, it pleased God to stir up the heart of one Mr. Harvard, a godly gentleman, and a lover of learning, there living amongst us, to give one half of his estate (it being in all about seventeen hundred pound,) towards the erecting of a College,---and all his library," consisting of three hundred and twenty volumes. (Footnote: New England’s first Fruits, in the Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society, i. 242.) Never let the object for which the College was established, be lost sight of. "Christo et Ecclesiae,"----to Christ and the Church---is the motto on its seal. Long may it remain there ! Never let it be erased ! Always may the sentiment be the moving and guiding spirit of that noble seminary !

You may have perceived, my hearers, that the introduction of this somewhat unusual topic into the pulpit has been suggested by the recent decease in this city of that eminent man, who was so noble a specimen of the Christian scholar,---who so strikingly illustrated in his own character the blended influences of a sound religious and a healthful literature, and who for so many years exercised in the midst of us the congenial offices of a pastor of the Christian Church and President of the neighbouring University. My position, as the minister of the church of which he was for more than sixteen years the pastor, seems to require that I should discourse of his life and character. Brethren, you expect me to speak of him. You have come hither today, in unwonted numbers, to hear me pronounce, however inadequately or unworthily, his Eulogy. You, who were his old friends and parishioners, would not forgive me were I not to say something concerning him in this place where for so many years you listened to his words of wisdom and persuasion. I could not forgive myself were I to keep silence, standing as I do on the privileged and hallowed spot where he stood so long, "a burning and a shining light." If I should hold my peace, these walls would utter his Eulogy, and this pulpit would cry shame on his dumb and degenerate successor. Incompetent, therefore, as I feel myself to do justice to the divine character and services of this eminent scholar and divine,---and who among us is fully competent ?---I will yet try, with your wonted indulgence, to sketch my own idea of hi, and to lay before you the impressions which an acquaintance of a quarter of a century has left upon my mind. It shall not be a cold, dry, formal panegyric, but the warm and heartfelt tribute of my reverence, affection, and gratitude.---But what style shall I use to set forth this excellent man, who, from my youth up, has given me some helps, more hopes, all encouragements in my best studies; to whom I never came, but I grew stronger in moral virtue; from whom I never went but I parted better instructed ? Of him, therefore, my acquaintance, my friend, my instructer, my predecessor in the church, if I speak much, it were not to be marvelled; if I speak frankly, it is not to be blamed; and though I speak partially, it were to be pardoned. (Footnote: See Harrington’s Nugae Antiquae, ii. 157)

John Thornton Kirkland, though not sprung from a family possessed of entailed estates and hereditary honors, could yet point to an ancestry of which, in a republican and Christian land like this, it might be excusable in any man to be proud. On the maternal side he was a descendant of Captain Miles Standish, the renowned military leader of the Pilgrims, and one of that noble company who in 1620 landed from the Mayflower on the rock at Plymouth. On his father’s side he was one of those intrepid and self-denying men, who, from the first settlement of these shores to the present day, have devoted themselves to the benevolent, but arduous and perilous work of preaching the Gospel to the aboriginal inhabitants of this land, "the tawny savage immortals of the desert," as his father called them. On this point he could adopt the words of the Great Dr. Mayhew, when reproached by Secker, the Archbishop of Canterbury, for his poverty and lowly birth. "I am, indeed, even literally, the poor son of a good man, who spent a long life and his patrimony in the humble and laborious, though apostolical employment of preaching the unsearcheable riches of Christ to poor Indians."

Daniel Kirkland, the grandfather of the President, was born in Saybrook, Connecticut, in 1701. And was graduated at Yale College in 1720. On the 10^th of December, 1723, he was ordained the first pastor of the third church in Norwich, Connecticut, in that part of this large town which was originally called Newent by some members of his parish who came from Newent, in Glouchestershire, England, and which parish was in 1786 incorporated as the present town of Lisbon. He continued the minister of this church for twenty-eight years or twenty-nine years, when he left; and on the 19^th of December, 1757, he was settled again in the ministry at Groton, in the same State, which parish he also left in 1758, and returned with his wife to Newent, where he resided till his death in May, 1773, and was buried in the burying—ground of that place. There are two individuals still living in Norwich who remember him, and speak of him as a man of fine talents and wit. During the last four years of his life he was supported in part by his son Samuel, the Indian missionary.

Samuel Kirkland, the father of the President, was the tenth child and fourth son of Daniel, who had eleven children, and he was born in Norwich, November 20^th, 1741. He seems to have been early destined for a missionary among the Indians, and accordingly was sent by his father to Moor’s Indian Charity School, at Lebanon, in Connecticut, which had been established in 1754 by the Rev. Dr. Eleazar Wheelock, for the purpose of educating Indian youth, and qualifying them to go forth as teachers among their own tribes in conjunction with young English preachers educated at the same school. Here he made some proficiency in the Mohawk language, learning it of a young native, who was his fellow student. He spent some time likewise at the College in Princeton, New Jersey, "for the sake of better advantage for some parts of learning," where he received a degree in 1765.

On the 20^th of November, 1764, he set off for the country of the Senecas, one of the Six Nations of Indians, in the interior of the State of New York, in order to learn their language and prepare the way for a mission among them. No missionary had ever before dared to venture among that remote and savage tribe; and Dr. Wheelock said at the time, "this bold advanture of his, considered in all the circumstances of it, is the most extraordinary of the kind I have ever known." He stopped on his way at Sir William Johnson’s whose influence over Indians is well known, where he was obliged to remain till January 17^th, waiting for a convoy, and then set out accompanied by two Seneca Indians, as guides. In a letter to Dr. Wheelock he says, "It is said to be a very great and dangerous undertaking to venture into those parts. Perhaps I may be killed in my first attempt."

The hardships he endured, and the perils he encountered in this expedition, are almost incredible. The weather was extremely cold, and the snow more than four feet deep. He travelled on snow-shoes, with his pack of provisions on his back, upwards of two hundred miles into the wilderness, where there was no path or house, and after a march of seventeen days, arrived on the 3^rd of February at a Seneca town, called Canasadaga. Soon after his arrival a famine ensued. For two months Mr. Kirkland lived without bread, flesh, or salt, subsisting on small fish, roots, acorns, and pounded corn. Two or three times he was obliged to journey on foot to the Mohawk river, a distance of two hundred miles, to procure a little bread to keep himself from starving; and several times his life was in imminent danger from the savages. After remaining among the Senecas a year and a half, he returned to Lebanon on the 24^th of May, 1766, accompanied by the chief of the warrior tribe.

On the 19^th of June he was ordained at Lebanon, and on the 7^th of July started on a new mission among the Oneidas, With whom he lived and labored forty years, the residue of his life. He established himself at Kanonwarohare, their principal village, the New Oneida Castile, as it was called, six miles distant from old Oneida, and about fifteen south of the Oneida Lake. Here he built a house, cutting and drawing the timber, and digging the cellar, twelve feet square and six feet deep, with his own hand; and with the aid of his Indians he cut out and made a road, thirteen miles long, towards Fort Stanwix, afterwards called Fort Schuyler, on the Mohawk. Here too he suffered extreme hardships and privations, and was several times nigh perishing from fatigue, hunger and exhaustion. For eight weeks he ate no meat, and was obliged to travel with the Indians to the Oneida Lake to catch fish for subsistence. "My poor people," he writes to Dr. Wheelock July 13, 1767, "are almost starved to death. I am grieved at the heart for them. I would myself be glad of an opportunity to fall upon my knees for such a bone as I have often seen cast to the dogs." His life too was in constant jeopardy from the capricious temper and violent passions of the savages, especially when they were intoxicated; and this kept him in a state of unceasing anxiety and alarm. Nothing but his deep interest in his holy work could have sustained him under his accumulated trials and perils. "Glad should I be," he writes, "if it were consistent, to resign my commission. But I had rather die than leave these poor creatures alone in their miserable condition. I beg, for God’s sake, the Gospel may be supported amongst them as it ought to be, for a trial."(Footnote: For the statements concerning Samuel Kirkland’s missionary life I rely almost exclusively in his own letters contained in Wheelock’s Narratives, and his MS. Journals and Letters in my possession.

Some further particulars concerning him and the Kirkland family will be found in the Appendix to this Discourse. )

In September, 1769, he married Miss Jerusha Bingham, daughter of Jabez Bingham, of Salisbury, Connecticut, and a niece of Dr. Wheelock; and immediately returned with his wife to an unfinished log hut in the wilderness, which he had commenced building the previous spring, and which, as he informs us, was "sixteen feet square, with a bed-room adjoining eight feet square." Here they were alone among the Indians, and "their accommodations" he tells us, "were very indifferent." (Footnote: I have in my possession a letter of Mr. Kirkland to the Rev. Dr. Andrew Eliot, of Boston, containing an inventory of his furniture at that time, including "a present of one dozen plates and a half a dozen platters, which Mrs. Kirkland received from a lady in Boston." "I have no more furniture," he says, "than is absolutely necessary for keeping house.") After passing the winter in the Indian village, Mrs. Kirkland went in June, on horseback, to the residence of a friend, General Herkimer, at Little Falls on the Mohawk, in what is now the town of Herkimer, in Herkimer county, where she remained nineteen weeks; and there the subject of this Discourse, with a twin brother, George Whitefield, was born, on the 17^th of August, 1770. He received the name John Thornton from his father’s regard for a pious and wealthy English gentleman of that name, celebrated for his philanthropy, who took a great interest in the Indian missions, and was Treasurer of the Board of Trustees established in London to receive donations for Dr. Wheelock’s School. That Mr. Thornton had a personal regard for Mr. Kirkland appears from an original letter now in my possession, dated August 3d, 1772, in which he speaks of having "received a library from worthy Mr. Thornton."

Soon afterwards Mrs. Kirkland returned with her children to Oneida, where she lived till they were two years old. The country then became disturbed. War was apprehended; and it being then uncertain which side the Indians would take in the impending conflict, it was deemed unsafe to remain any longer among them. Mrs. Kirkland accordingly took her children with her to Windham, in Connecticut, her mother’s native place. In November, 1772, she received a donation of fifty pounds sterling from the Society in Scotland for Propagating Christian Knowledge, to purchase a comfortable residence. She being pleased with Stockbridge, in Massachusetts, her husband bought a small house and farm in that town, it being then the nearest English settlement to the Hudson river. Here young Kirkland lived till he went to Andover.

He had no school education except such as was common in a frontier village at that early period, which of course was very little and very poor. This want, however, was supplied by the instructions of his excellent mother, who was a very remarkable woman, ant to whom, as we shall presently see, he was most tenderly and devotedly attached, and felt himself under the greatest obligations. His father being necessarily absent from home most of the time on his missionary labors and soliciting benefactions for the Indians, the care of the children devolved almost entirely on her. At the age of four years he received a kick from a horse, the scar of which, indented on the centre of his broad forehead, he carried with him through life, a striking and not unbecoming mark, which every one who knew him must have observed, and will always remember. This blow to the seat of thought and intelligence naturally excited the tender anxieties of his mother’s heart, and made her particularly watchful and solicitous about this son. He manifested an early propensity for books, and even then would rather sit in a corner and read than go out and play with his more active and adventurous brother. He had, too, the same sweetness of temper and amiableness of disposition that distinguished in after life. I have been informed by a lady now living at Northampton, who went to school in Stockbridge with the young Kirklands, that John Thornton "gave early indications of talent, was a very good scholar, of a pleasant disposition, and much beloved."

In March,1784, at the age of thirteen, he was brought by his father to Andover, in this State, and placed in Phillips Academy, then under the care of the late Dr. Eliphalet Pearson. His father not having the means to support and educate his son, he was kindly received into the family of the Hon. Samuel Phillips, afterward Lieutenant Governor of the Commonwealth, who gave him his board and paid for his tuition. A fellow-student at the Academy, who was intimate with him, informs me that "he recollects him as being of a pleasant disposition, with qualities naturally endearing."

After spending two years at Andover, he was admitted, on the 4^th of April, 1786 at the age of fifteen, into the Freshmen Class of Harvard College, in advanced standing, "he paying into the College treasury the sum of eleven pounds and five shillings, the Government requiring the lowest sum that the law will permit, on account of his father’s peculiar circumstances." (Footnote: MS. Records of the College.)

In the winter vacation of 1787, being a Junior, and only sixteen years old, instead of going to keep school, as was his first intention, and as is the course usually pursued by indigent students in the University, he enlisted for thirty days as a volunteer in the little army of forty-four hundred men, which was raised and placed under the command of General Lincoln to put down the formidable insurrection of the Shays. This was not a mere juvenile or college freak, as might at first be supposed, but the expression of that true and ardent patriotism, that earnest and devoted attachment to our republican institutions, which characterized him through life. He felt, as Mr. Ames and our other patriots did, that this rebellion must instantly be put down, at all hazards, and without terms or stipulations; else government was at an end, our independence had been achieved in vain, and treason, faction and anarchy would be triumphant. After a brief and successful campaign he returned to his studies at Cambridge.

Those of his classmates who survive him, and others who were his contemporaries in College, speak of him as then possessing those peculiar qualities of mind and heart which in afterlife gained for him celerity, and secured to him universal esteem and affection. I have been informed by one of his classmates, now living, that "he came uncommonly well prepared for admission, and with a high reputation for scholarship, which he fully sustained through his College life, receiving his due proportion of honors in parts assigned him at the Quarterly Exhibitions. He was highly respected by his class, and by all who knew him. His heart was warm and sincere."

The text of this and other superb works are available on-line from:

The Willison Politics and Philosophy Resource Center

http://willisoncenter.com/

Reprint and digital file September 1, 2001.

Willison Editor's note: Daniel Dana, A.M.,( Yale, 1782 ) D.D. (Yale, 1788) carried the torch for solid Reformation theology when many turned away in New England during his lifetime. (See His 1810 Deity of Christ sermon posted here for one of the strongest defenses for Trinitarian Theology available. )

Page numbers in the original appear in brackets as shown: [ 2 ]

The following begins the original text:

At a Meeting of the Trustees of Phillips Academy, April 19, 1841,

Voted, That this Board entertain a profound respect for the memory of the late WILLIAM BARTLET, Esq., the most generous and long continued benefactor of the Theological Seminary in Phillips Academy, and are deeply penetrated with gratitude for his liberality to the Institution both heretofore, and at his death; that they affectionately sympathize with the family and friends of the deceased in the bereavement which they, in common with the friends of learning and religion throughout the community, have been called to sustain in the death of this venerated man.

Voted, That the thanks of this Board be presented to the REV. DANIEL DANA, D. D. for his very acceptable sermon delivered this day, on occasion of the death of the venerable and munificent benefactor of this Institution, WILLIAM BARTLET, Esq., and that ec be requested to furnish a copy for the press.

WE assemble, this day, to pay a tribute of respect to a venerable Founder, and munificent Benefactor of this sacred Seminary. The tribute which is prompted by our feelings, is sanctioned by our judgment. human kindness, in all its varied forms, claims our gratitude. Distinguished liberality, especially when consecrated to tile noblest objects, merits not only an affectionate, but an everlasting remembrance.

Still, human beneficence, the purest, the kindest, the most enlarged, is but an emanation from the eternal, exhaustless Source of good. Let not the streams detain us from the fountain. Let us not idolize the instrument, and neglect the Sovereign, Almighty Agent. We come not hither, to-day, to scatter flowers over the tomb of a frail mortal; nor merely to sigh over a friend for ever gone. We come to bring our grateful homage to that God who made him all that he was, and selected him as the honored instrument of his rich and exuberant mercy.

[ 6 ]

This duty, so obvious in itself, is very impressively recommended in the inspired passage we have recited. The distinguished monarch of Israel, being just about to resign his earthly, for a heavenly crown, and having summoned a great assembly of his people and their chiefs, declares to them the preparations he had made for the erection of the Temple. His own offerings in the cause, though made on a scale of more than princely munificence, are announced for the simple purpose of exciting a correspondent liberality on their part. The appeal is completely successful. Willing and abundant contributions are offered by all classes in the assembly. The heart of the pious monarch is full to overflowing. And it pours itself out in the sublimest strains of gratitude and praise. "Blessed be thou, Lord God of Israel, our Father, for ever and ever. Thine, O Lord, is the greatness, and the power, and the glory, and the victory, and the majesty; for all that is in the heaven and in the earth, is thine; thine is the kingdom, O Lord, and thou art exalted as head above all. Both riches and honor come of thee, and thou reignest over all: and in thy hand is power and might; and in thy hand it is to make great, and to give strength unto all. Now, therefore, our God, we thank thee, and praise thy glorious name. But who am I"—adds this humble man— "and what is my people, that we should be able to offer so willingly after this sort? for all things come of thee, and of thine own have we given thee."

That portion of this sublime ascription which

[ 7 ]

is selected as our theme, furnishes such lessons as these: that riches, in common with all other blessings, are the gift of God—that when viewed aright, they are regarded by their possessor as a trust— and that their best use and enjoyment are found in giving them back to the Heavenly Benefactor.

The first of these suggestions commands, of course, the assent of all. It admits neither disbelief nor doubt. And well were it, could it not be classed with those truths which have been so long remembered, they're forgot." If He who made the world, governs the world; if his providence is not only general, but particular; it inevitably follows, that all we possess and enjoy, is the gift of his bounty. Fate, fortune, accident, contingence, have nothing to do with us, and we have nothing to do with them. They are words without meaning. Rather they conceal so many falsehoods. If, likewise, we have no shadow of claim to the goodness of God; if, as sinners we have merited his frowns; if, daily and hourly, we forfeit every good, of every kind; then the blessings which crown our lives, are emphatically so many gifts. They bear the stamp of mercy; of unmerited, forfeited favor. Every breath of air we inhale, every drop of water that slakes our thirst, is a gift of unmerited goodness. How then should that goodness be acknowledged and adored, when mercies unnumbered throng around our path, and our cup overflows with blessings which thousands want; when every region of earth yields us its treasures, and every wind of heaven wafts some addition to our stores.

[ 8 ]

We do not overlook the fact that Providence, in conferring wealth, operates not by miracles, but by means. The man who would be rich, must be awake, active, indefatigable and persevering. He must be neither appalled by difficulties, nor retarded by obstacles, nor vexed by disappointments, nor disheartened even by reverses. His plans must originate in sound reflection, his calculations must take counsel from experience, his ardor must be chastened by prudence, and what has been acquuired by diligence, must be retained by frugality and good management. At first view, perhaps, it may appear that those who pursue riches in this style, will scarcely fail of success. Yet should this be admitted as the general rule, how multiplied, how endless, almost, are the exceptions. How many who enter on life, and on business, with the fairest prospects, as well as the most sanguine expectations, are arrested in the very commencement of their career. How many, when half way up the hill of ample and splendid acquisition, have been suddenly toppled down. And the merchant, just ready to retire with the accumulated wealth of a long life, how often has he seen his vast property, like one of his vessels wrecked in the very port, vanishing in a night, or an hour. It is remarkable that in the pursuit of wealth, the high-wrought eagerness and ardor which, in most other pursuits, ensure success, are found among the most frequent precursors of disappointment, and the most efficient causes of defeat.

In every view, then, it appears that riches are the gift of God. Without his agency and blessing,

[ 9 ]

what is human power? What is human skill? What are human calculations, and human efforts? They are nothing; absolutely nothing. The wise and sovereign Disposer confers the blessings of his Providence on whom he pleases, and by what instrumentalities he pleases; and often in modes which deride all human probabilities and conjectures. One thing is certain. He does not proportion his providential blessings to the moral characters of men. Far otherwise. Often his beloved children pine in penury and distress. Often the wicked ride in triumph on the high places of the earth. "All the Turkish empire," says Luther, "great as it is, is but a crumb which the Master of the family throws to his dogs." Facts of this kind—and they abound in the history of individuals, and of nations—are among the mysteries of Providence which another day will explain. In the mean time, they inculcate on us a lesson of inestimable value; that we should not greatly covet those blessings which a wise and good God often withholds from his dearest children, while he bestows them unsparingly on those of an opposite character.

Still it is true, as we have remarked, that riches, when viewed aright, are regarded by their possessor, as a trust.

If we were the authors of our own existence; if these mortal bodies, and these immortal spirits were the products of our own creative power; if all the elements of nature were under our control; if the portion of earthly good which is in our hands, were the result of our own unaided exertions; if it

[ I0 ]

came at our call, and would tarry at our bidding; then, indeed, we might dream of independence. Then we might each of us write on our possessions those delightful words, MY OWN. But this is the language of ignorance and pride. In the vocabulary of reason and of truth, it has no place. He who made us, claims us, and most righteously, as his property. He who redeemed us by the blood of his Son, prefers a still more endearing claim to all that we are, and all that we have. He who, through life, has poured numberless blessings around us, has demands, equally numberless, on our entire service and self-consecration. Our souls, our bodies, our time, our talents, our influence, our wealth, our all, are his property, and not our own. They are his property; and as such, to be devoted to his pleasure, to be used for his purposes, and to be accounted for at his bar. All this, the good man sees and feels. It is with him, not a fine-spun speculation, but a great reality, and a living principle of action. If Providence has committed to him a single talent only, he does not use it as his own; and he dreads the thought of its concealment, or perversion. If much is committed to his care, he feels the burden of obligation proportionably enhanced, and his anxiety to be faithful, proportionably deepened. And there are times when he is less attracted by the prospect of increased acquisitions, than appalled by the thought of incurring new and more solemn responsibilities.

It is familiar with us to think and speak of the poor, as objects of compassion. But judging by the

[ 11 ]

light of reason and truth, we may find much more imperious motives for compassionating the rich. For while riches rarely bring an increase of enjoyment, they never fail to bring an increase of responsibility. The burden may be little felt now; but it will be felt one day, in all its weight. Riches prepare for their possessor an awful account before the bar of God. How shall that account be rendered up with joy, and not with grief? And how shall the children of opulence be relieved, in the present world, of a burden which is calculated to overwhelm and crush a thoughtful mind? In a word, how shall that connection between wealth and happiness, which is ordinarily a mere fancy, a fiction, become a sober reality? The answer to these momentous questions, we have already anticipated, for we have remarked that

The best use and enjoyment of riches are found in giving them back to the Infinite Benefactor.

This is no more than to treat things as they really are. It is merely to carry into act the plainest principles of eternal equity and truth. If the rich man is no more nor less than a steward to the King of kings, then he must not only prepare to render an account of his Sovereign’s property at last, but while it is in his hands, he must take care that no part of it be perverted, no part embezzled, no part wasted. In a word, he must b daily rendering it back in such a way as that his Sovereign’s demands may be met, his designs executed, and the widest extension given to his benevolence and beneficence. Wo to the rich man who lives for himself, who toils

[ 12 ]

and watches for himself, who amasses for himself, and who expends for himself. Wo to the rich man who renders stagnant the thousand streams which Heaven has designed should water the soil of indigence, and send verdure and fertility into many a barren region.

Nor is such selfishness more fatally at war with duty, than with real enjoyment. The slave of avarice knows not what it is to live. His coffers may be full; but there is an awful vacuum in his heart. He may carry about with him a face of pleasure; but often, corroding cares and harrowing disquietudes lurk beneath. With others, he may be the object of envy; but in himself, he is wretched. While to the benevolent man, the purest sources of delight continually arise. If blest with riches, he knows their proper use. He sincerely aims to devote them to the very purposes for which they were intrusted. He esteems it his highest honor to be the humble almoner of the King of kings; the faithful conveyancer of divine bounty on earth. For his largest distributions, he claims no merit. The very disposition to impart, he regards as among the kindest, richest gifts of Heaven. Loaded with benefits, and melted with gratitude, he is habitually prompted to exclaim,

All that I am, and all I have,

Shall be for ever thine.

Whate’er my duty bids me give,

My cheerful hands resign.

If it be asked, What are the channels through which the divine bounty should flow back to its

[ 13 ]

source? or, what are the modes in which the rich should make a consecration of their substance to the Supreme Benefactor ?—the answer is at hand; though on so fruitful a topic, the specification of particulars must be of course imperfect.

It is obvious to remark, that in the appropriation of wealth, the opulent owe their first attention to their own families. To neglect these claims, is to incur the express malediction of Heaven. Yet in cases of large accumulation, the rich should beware lest in the attempt to provide amply for the wants of their children, they bequeath them temptation, calamity and ruin. If the very anticipation of inherited wealth has been incalculably injurious to thousands, other thousands have been ruined by its possession. Poor relations, too, have their claims on the opulent. If their names more frequently occupied a place in testamentary provisions, little would be lost, and much would be gained. Here let it be remarked, that might the rich more frequently become their own executors; might their having distributions more frequently take the place of their testamentary arrangements, much good might be accomplished, and much evil precluded.

After all the just claims of families and relations are satisfied, the rich may still find ample fields for their benevolence to range in. Our Redeemer has on earth a large family of the poor and the suffering, whose distresses he has engaged to relieve. What a delight to the pious heart, to feel a portion of his sympathy, to fulfil, instrumentally, his promises; yes, to give joy to the Saviour’s benevolent

[ 14 ]

heart, by pouring consolation into the bosoms of his suffering friends. It has been justly said, that charity is the truest epicurism, as it enables the giver to eat with many mouths at once. But there is a delight superior even to this. If it is such a privilege to satisfy the animal appetite, what is it to provide for the cravings of the mind; to spread an intellectual banquet for thousands of the present, and thousands more of the coming age? Such is the sublime part which has been acted by the munificent patrons of Education. Illustrious men! whose names shed a glory on their country, and a glory on their species.

There are numberless paths which lie open to the benevolent investment of wealth. If the opulent of our age groan under a burden of useless and ever accumulating treasure, the fault must be all their own. The means of relief are at hand; and they are most unusually multiplied. Plans and associations for the promotion of human piety and happiness, and for the removal or mitigation of the various forms of vice and crime and suffering, every where abound. If some of the projects which solicit patronage are useless, or visionary, or impracticable, there remains still a large portion whose value and importance are unquestionable, and whose accomplishment may be secured. The translation and universal diffusion of the Scriptures—the extension of the preached gospel in our own and other lands—the gratuitous education of pious youth for the ministry—the dispersion of religious tracts—the elevation of the character and condition of our sea-

[ 15 ]

men—the improvement of prisons, and their unhappy tenants—the introduction of the blind, the deaf, the dumb, the insane, to a new world; to the delights of reason, of knowledge, and religion—these are objects dear to every benevolent heart. And they declare to the rich how they may become rich indeed; benefactors to their country, and their species; to the present age, and to posterity.

Still other objects present themselves to view. If the endowment and support of academies and colleges, and other seminaries, of useful human science, constitute a legitimate and noble employment of wealth, still superior importance is attached to the endowment and support of seminaries of divine science. Institutions of this kind are but of recent origin in our country. Although from its earliest settlement, the conviction has been general, that the church demands an able, well-furnished, and learned, as well as a pious ministry, the means of furnishing such a ministry have been generally overlooked. Nor was it perceived, that to effect this object, seminaries are required, of a peculiar character; seminaries furnished with permanent endowments, extensive libraries, and able professors. More recently, the value and importance of such seminaries have been generally acknowledged and felt. And they have sprung into existence among almost every denomination of Christians throughout our land. In the view of every reflecting mind, these institutions are of primary interest. They are remembered with intense solicitude, in the prayers of Christians. The opulent and the liberal, who have

[ 16 ]

given them existence or support, have made a noble consecration of their substance. They are to be revered and honored as the selected instruments of some of Heaven’s choicest bounties to the church, and to the world.

Such are the views, and such the emotions with which we enter this sacred temple to-day. The righteous Sovereign of the world has removed from this Seminary, a distinguished Founder; a most liberal, unwearied, affectionate Patron and Benefactor. In obedience to the providence of God, and to the profound sensibility of our own minds, we come to record the benevolence of our deceased Friend, and to pay a last tender tribute to his memory.

MR. BARTLET was born, lived and died in Newburyport.* He was the son of parents esteemed for their moral worth, and respected for their piety.

By nature he was liberally gifted. There was a singular analogy between his mental and corporeal structure. His firm, athletic, commanding frame had a counterpart in a mind of unusual comprehension and energy. He possessed a quick perception, an accurate discrimination, a solid and correct judgment, united with great ardor, decision and perseverance. His advantages for education were simply those of a common school. But the ardor and activity of his mind supplied a multitude of defects. There is no extravagance in believing that, with a finished education, he would have shone as a scholar; perhaps as a metaphysician, perhaps as a philosopher,

*He was born Jan. 31, 1748. He died Feb. 8, 1841, aged 93.

[ 17 ]

a statesman, or an orator. But Providence had designed him for a different course; and in furnishing him with a large portion of practical common sense, gave him that which, though "no science," has been justly characterized as "fairly worth the seven."

The years of his minority were spent with his father, and employed in his humble and laborious occupation. There can be little doubt, however, that he early conceived the design of becoming rich. As this design was pursued not only with his characteristic ardor, hut with unvarying diligence, economy, sound judgment and perseverance, it was crowned with signal success. Having early associated with his laborious employment, the plan of selling a few articles in frequent demand, he found himself, when just beyond the age of freedom, the possessor of a small share in a vessel employed in trade. Here is found the germ of his future wealth. Such was the humble origin of his immense estate.

For many years, his gains were gradual and inconsiderable. The revolutionary war, the alarms and commotions which preceded it, the fluctuations and embarrassments by which it was followed, were all unfavorable to the interests of commerce. But no sooner had our federal government risen into existence, and commenced its operations, than a new and brighter scene was disclosed. The re— sources of our country were called forth, the hopes of our citizens revived, industry was quickened, enterprise stimulated and rewarded. Commerce, awaking from its torpor, and surmounting its former

[ 18 ]

barriers, explored new fields, and reaped abundant harvests. Mr. Bartlet, now in the prime and vigor of life, was not slow in availing himself of these auspicious circumstances. His efforts were invigorated, his plans extended, and each successful experiment became the precursor of others still. He supplied the want of a regular commercial education by deep reflection, critical observation, and careful inquiry. He mingled courage with caution, and care in acquiring, with equal care in preserving. He conciliated a general confidence, both at home and abroad, by his strict and acknowledged integrity, punctuality, and accuracy.

He was remarkable for a habitual calmness and self-possession. Rarely has the merchant been found, so little elated as he, by success, or so little depressed by those disappointments and reverses incident to the most prosperous career.

His mercantile life continued materially beyond half a century. When advanced years seemed to combine with accumulated gains, in inviting him to retirement, still he did not retire. He probably thought, as did many of his friends, that the sudden rupture of habits of business so deeply radicated, might prove injurious to his spirits, and his health. Although, therefore, his business in latter years was much contracted, it was scarcely abandoned, but with life.

He was a most sedulous improver of time. And as he considered diligence and economy as cardinal virtues, he had little tolerance for idleness and improvidence in others. Indeed, he was in the habit

[ 19 ]

of tracing to these sources, most of the poverty and suffering which he witnessed around him. There might be truth in the general maxim; and probably there was error in its too indiscriminate application. Perhaps it was owing to this error, as much as to anything, that his private liberality bore little proportion to his public munificence.

In his transactions with those whom he employed, and with others, he was punctiliously and rigidly just. By some, no doubt, he was viewed as incurring the censure couched in the poet’s suggestion, —that "right, too rigid, hardens into wrong." But such was the deeply ingrained habit of his mind— a habit which was derived from the earlier days, and which, in our own day, often meets with a severity which is not bestowed on much more palpable and pernicious errors. Nor will it be denied that his rigid accuracy in transacting business—in doing justice, and exacting justice—if it conduced little to his popularity, served a much better purpose; as it tended to correct those loose and inaccurate habits which have been so extensively and deeply injurious in our community.

In discharging some of the most important duties resulting from the family relation, Mr. Bartlet was careful and exemplary. He was an affectionate husband, and a kind father. He was assiduous to instruct his children in those great principles of religion which he had himself embraced; and he wished for them nothing so much, as that they might be early wise, virtuous and pious. To the latest period of life, he paid, as opportunity offered,

[ 20]

a similar attention to his grand -children. Some of them who became, for a time, inmates of his family, were much encouraged and aided by him in studying and committing to memory the holy Scriptures.

Mr. Bartlet was a cordial friend to the peace, the order, and the improvement of his native town. Tenacious of what was good in ancient institutions, and ancient habits, he resisted no change which commended itself as salutary. The increasing neglect and violation of the sabbath, he viewed with deep regret, and set his face against it. Whatever tended to the moral melioration of the place, he sedulously encouraged. He regarded with deep interest the rising youth, and was anxious that they should enjoy the best advantages of mental instruction, and moral discipline. If the extensive introduction of manufactures shall prove a blessing to his native town, by furnishing employment and subsistence to large numbers, to him much of the praise will be due; as to his patronage and aid, more than to that of any other, the enterprise itself is indebted.

It is due to the memory of Mr. Bartlet to state, that earlier than most others, be perceived, lamented and resisted, the progress and ravages of intemperance. Long before the commencement of those operations for its suppression, which have since been so vigorous and extensive, he opposed to this destructive evil, the influence of his personal example, in the entire disuse of ardent spirits; while he resolutely refused the indulgence to those numbers whom he had in his employ.

If we take a view of our deceased friend in a more

[ 21 ]

public sphere, we shall find him exhibiting some of the best attributes of the PATRIOT. In the darkest periods of the revolutionary war, he clung to the interests of his country, indignant at her wrongs, sensible to her sufferings, confident of her ultimate success, and contributing to the sublime cause his own energetic and persevering efforts.

When the scene of blood was closed; when our national government was organized; and when, too soon afterward, the community was divided into parties, Mr. Bartlet was found under the banners of WASHINGTON. His confidence in that great and good man, and in the wisdom of his measures, was almost unlimited, he could not, indeed, become the blind devotee of a party. Few men more accurately scrutinized, or more impartially judged the characters of public men, and public measures. He honestly and firmly believed that the plan of policy adopted by Washington, was, under God, the salvation and glory of his country. And no man gave to that system a more decided, vigorous or persevering support. For himself, he neither sought nor desired public life. His habits were domestic; his temper was unambitious. In a few instances only, he yielded to the wishes of his fellow-citizens, and took some share in the public counsels. In aiding to clothe others with office, he insisted much on the importance, not only of political integrity, but of moral purity, as essential to secure a faithful and uniform pursuit of the public good.

We are now to contemplate Mr. Bartlet as a PUBLIC BENEFACTOR—an active promoter of pious and

[ 22 ]

benevolent designs; a munificent patron of the cause of science, human and divine. Considering his great wealth, these objects preferred strong claims upon his regard; nor were those claims evaded. Here it may be remarked, that while he was alive to whatever affected the temporal interests of his town, his country, and his species, he was peculiarly attracted by those projects of benevolence which contemplate man as an immortal being. The great scheme of Foreign Missions—aiming to spread the gospel through the world—numbered him among its earliest and most efficient friends. Nor was he inattentive to the equally imperious duty of furnishing the means of heavenly grace to the destitute of our own country. He promoted the translation of the sacred Scriptures, and their universal diffusion, in this and other lands. The plan of educating pious young men for the ministry, with a view to increase the number and the qualifications of gospel ministers, he highly appreciated, and powerfully patronized. A similar patronage and aid he afforded to the dissemination of tracts, and the improvement of prisons. To the Temperance Reformation he gave his warm support, and devoted his early and liberal contributions. Several of the Societies we have indicated, not only received his efficient aid, but enrolled his name in their lists of officers.

To the cause of useful learning, he was a warm and active friend. He seemed to delight in furnishing to others those enlarged means of education which he had wanted himself. His subscriptions to the support of seminaries of literature of various

[ 23 ]

descriptions, both within and without the state, were numerous and liberal. Indeed, there were few plans aiming at the promotion of learning, of religion, of good morals, of humanity, and promising extensive good, which he did not actively countenance. When his character, and his distributions had become generally known, applications for his bounty were multiplied, and his house was thronged with petitioners from various and distant portions of the land. Many requests must, of course, have been refused; for scarcely would the largest fortune have sufficed to meet them all. Yet no applicant was treated with arrogance; each had a patient hearing; nor was refusal ever aggravated by unkindness.

But that liberality which was diffused into so wide a sphere, was peculiarly and powerfully concentrated on this favored spot. This sacred Institution, which owes so much to the generosity of many an honored Founder and Benefactor, is under special and immeasurable obligations to the munificence of that friend whom, on this occasion, we remember and mourn.

It is a singular and memorable fact, that when, about thirty-four years since, several opulent and large-hearted individuals were meditating the establishment of a Theological Seminary in this place, an assemblage of the same description, in a distant part of the County, were, without any mutual knowledge or communication, engaged in a design entirely similar. When the respective parties became acquainted with each other’s intentions, a most interesting question arose. Would the cause of God

[ 24 ]

and the interest of the churches be best promoted by a separate, or a united organization? Each plan had its advantages, and each its difficulties. Among the last, may be mentioned some shades of difference in theological views. The question received a long and ample discussion. In the issue, difficulties vanished, minor differences were merged, the spirit of union, and of mutual concession prevailed, and, as the result, this Theological Institution rose into existence, amply endowed, and powerfully sustained. The Founders at Andover,* having been first in maturing and arranging their plan, it was agreed that the other party should unite with them under the appellation of Associate Founders. Messrs. Brown and Norris † made each a donation of ten thousand dollars ; Mr. Bartlet the same ; adding at the time, another ten thousand ; and soon after, increasing his subscription by a similar additional sum.

These contributions, so liberal and ample, were but a mere introduction to subsequent displays of his liberality. To this liberality we owe the elegant and commodious Chapel in which we are now convened. To this we owe a spacious and convenient Hall for the residence of students. To this we owe no small part of our select and invaluable Library. But I will not attempt to detail the

* The original Founders, at Andover, were SAMUEL ABBOT, Esq., madam PHEBE PHILLIPS, Relict of Lieut. Governor Samuel Phillips, and her son, the Hon. JOHN PHILLIPS, Jun.

† MOSES BROWN, Esq. belonged to Newburyport; the Hon. JOHN NORRIS, to Salem.

[ 25 ]

various forms which the munificence of this distinguished friend has taken. Every such attempt would be abortive. Let it be sufficient to say, that his bounty has amply supplied every want, has richly furnished every accommodation, and interposed with appropriate aid, in every exigency. Having, from early time, adopted the Seminary as the child of his affections, he has followed it, in every subsequent stage, with spontaneous and unintermitted kindness; crowning all former favors by a very liberal provision in his last Testament.

Justice to his memory requires me to add, that in the midst of his disbursements to his favorite Seminary, and to other great and benevolent objects, he appeared simple, unassuming, and unostentatious. He often spoke of himself as the mere steward of a merciful Providence, and of his obligation to devote his large possessions, not to his own pleasure, or aggrandizement, but to the service of God. It cannot, I think, be rationally suspected, that he harbored the thought of purchasing, by his bounties, either a seat in heaven, or a splendid character on earth. He uniformly disclaimed every idea of merit in the sight of his Maker. And of the good opinion of mankind, he seemed independent and regardless, even to a fault.

The same justice prompts me to state, that in his religious opinions, he was remarkably correct, decided and inflexible. He exhibited a reverence for the sabbath, and strenuously resisted its prevailing and public violation. He was a punctual worshipper in the house of God, to the remotest period of

[ 26 ]

his protracted life. He honored good men, and reverenced Christian ministers, especially those distinguished for their piety. His erection of a costly and splendid Cenotaph, in the church where he attended worship—in honor of Whitefield, would seem to indicate a cordial affection for that eminently devoted man.

On his religious character, as a whole, I offer no verdict. Nor is it needful. The momentous question has been already decided at a bar perfectly enlightened and impartial. While he was subject to human observation, there were obscurities in his course, which his pious friends would gladly have seen removed. They perceived with pain that some religious duties of which he could not but perceive the importance and obligation, were unperformed to the last.

Such, if I mistake not, were some of the leading traits in the character of this extraordinary man. Having attempted a simple and undisguised statement; having exhibited the lights of the picture, and cast a momentary glance at its shades, I may say, perhaps, without impropriety, to my respected audience:

It is my duty, and my gratification, to offer, in behalf of these Boards of Trustees and Visitors, of these Professors and Students, and (may I not add?) of all

[ 27 ]

the Alumni of the Seminary—to THE FAMILY OF THE DECEASED—his children, and his grand-children—the sincerest, tenderest sympathy, in their recent bereavement of a father and friend. May that Father who never dies; may that Friend who never forsakes, be their Refuge, and their Comforter. May the best wishes of that heart which will beat no more; may the kindest prayers which have issued from those lips which death has sealed, descend in blessings on their heads. May the counsels of wisdom which they have so often heard from him who henceforth will address them only from the grave, find a lodgment in their inmost hearts. May they follow their lamented friend in all that was excellent. May they live for God on earth, and enjoy his eternal smiles in heaven.

GENTLEMEN, TRUSTEES AND VISITORS,

The providence of God which calls us to mourning, summons us likewise to gratitude. The life of our departed friend was not more signally protracted, than was his kindness to this beloved Seminary. His death, too, is full of solemn admonition. Let it awaken us to spend our little moment of remaining life in ardent devotion to our great Master’s cause.

The most distinguished Founder of this sacred Institution, and the only one who remained, is gone. Should we not feel ourselves, on this solemn day, surrounded (so to speak) by the whole array of its deceased Founders and Benefactors? And should we not hear them addressing us in the spirit, and almost in the very words, of the lamented HARRISON?

[ 28 ]

"We wish the true principles of the Institution to be understood; and we wish them to be carried out. This is all we ask."

What these principles are, is perfectly manifest. We have but to glance at the Constitution and Associate Statutes of the Seminary, to be convinced that it was the prime and absorbing object of its Founders, to render it an instrument of maintaining and propagating THE TRUTH. And that there might be no mistake in so vital a point, they have given a very explicit and intelligible delineation of the doctrines to be taught. These doctrines are substantially the same with the doctrines of the Reformation; the same which are found in the Harmony of Confessions of the Protestant European churches, and the same which our pious puritan fathers brought with them to this Western world. In a variety of forms, the Trustees and Visitors are charged to take effectual care that these doctrines be maintained inviolate, and that the various forms of error which oppose them, be discountenanced and resisted.

These, unquestionably, were the views, designs, and expectations of the Founders at large; and emphatically of the friend lately deceased. Speaking with me on this very subject, not six months before his death, Mr. Bartlet said, with marked decision and solemnity, "I consider the doctrines of the Assembly’s Catechism as lying at the very foundation of the Institution."

Such, my honored Brethren, is the sacred trust devolved on us. Nor can I doubt that it is our united determination to be faithful in so great a cause.

[ 29 ]

It is admitted that the spirit of the times is against us. Inflexible adherence to religious truth, however important, is by many stigmatized as bigotry. Cases have occurred in which the explicitly declared intentions of deceased donors have been evaded and frustrated, without incurring the general frown of the community. But these are moral anomalies which time, the friend of truth, will correct. They are maladies which cannot exist for a moment in a purified atmosphere. The public verdict has not yet distinctly sanctioned the trampling on the tombs of the deceased benefactors of religion and learning; and we trust it never will; for whenever this shall occur, the benefactors of religion and learning will be few.

For ourselves, having received the Constitution and Statutes of our Founders; and having solemnly engaged to make them our guides; the question as to giving them their full and legitimate effect, is not at all a question of bigotry or liberality. Nor is it properly a question of orthodoxy or heresy. It is a question of moral integrity or delinquency. Let this thought be ever present to our minds. It will be a powerful stimulus to the faithful and efficient discharge of our duty. It will be a broad and impenetrable shield of defence against all the opposition and obloquy which may meet us in that path.

Should the ample funds entrusted to our care, suffer through our mismanagement, or be-wasted by our neglect, our guilt would not be small. But we have committed to us a fund infinitely richer than these. What are thousands, what are even millions of gold and silver, compared with the pure, ever-

[ 30 ]

lasting, soul-saving truths of God’s word? This is the precious deposit with which we are honored; and it is the just expectation of heaven and earth that we be faithful. Let us guard it with sleepless vigilance. Let us cherish a sacred ambition that it receive no detriment in our hands. Let us transmit it, a fair and unimpaired inheritance to the coming generations.

The occasion of this day awakens in your hearts the strongest and tenderest sensibilities. The venerable man whom we commemorate and honor, was regarded by you, not only as a munificent Patron, but an affectionate friend. Your comfort and happiness, your usefulness and honor, were ever near his heart. You can never forget him; nor can you ever think of him, but with strong emotions. While bending, to-day, over his ashes, and heaving the sigh to his memory, you will feel, I am persuaded, a new impulse, and new obligations, to be governed by his views and wishes, and to effetuate, so far as in your power, his wise and benevolent plans.

That he aimed to furnish to this beloved Seminary, the best and richest means of mental cultivation and enlargement; that he wished it to send forth young men with minds truly liberalized and accomplished—affluent in intellectual stores—saturated with knowledge human and divine—this is known to all. But there was another object still nearer his heart. He wished the Seminary to, be a defender of the pure faith; a pillar and ground of

[ 31 ]

evangelical truth; a barrier against the incursions of false doctrine, and false religion. He wished it to furnish to the church and the world, young men who should never be ashamed of the simple gospel; who should determine to know nothing save Jesus Christ, and him crucjfied. Sooner than see it preparing and sending forth learned champions of heresy—skilful undertniners of gospel truth—accomplished propagators of error—he would have poured his wealth into the ocean whence it came.

How important, my Brethren, that this Institution, the first of its species in point of time, and the richest in resources—an Institution commenced in prayers and tears, and solemnly consecrated to Christ and his truth—an Institution whose influence has already reached to the farthest ends of the earth, and will be felt to the latest period of time—how important that it be preserved in its purity. This, I trust, is the first and dearest wish of your hearts. In pursuing this glorious object faithfully, ardently, perseveringly, you will have with you the prayers and blessings of myriads of warm-hearted Christians. You will have the present smiles of your heavenly Master and Judge; and hereafter, a crown of glory at his hand.

[ Bold italics added for emphasis, Willison ed. ]

For, be it remembered, error of every kind, whatever plausible forms, whatever boastful attitudes it may assume, is real ignorance. Beside these evils, there is the additional evil of scores and hundreds of volumes of Scriptural exegesis and criticism, and those volumes not destitute of learned pretensions, in which truth and error, fact and falsehood, good sense and absurdity, Christianity, infidelity and paganism, are so strangely intermingled, that the attempt to separate them is often totally abortive, or very scantily rewarded, if it succeed.—In a word, there is manifestly prevailing in the general mind, a disgust at what is ancient and fixed, with a restless craving for novelty and change. By thousands, especially of the young, religious theories are embraced, which are glittering and plausible, but which have no depth, nor solidity, and which insensibly undermine the foundations of all truth, and all piety.

It is our earnest wish and prayer, my dear Brethren, that neither these obstacles, nor any other, may deter you from the most determined arid courageous

[ 33 ]

pursuit of your great object—that of pouring into the minds of these youth, the pure light of heavenly truth; that of warming their hearts with the flame of heavenly love; of securing them against every noxious influence, and of forming them into holy, humble, faithful, energetic ministers of the Lord Jesus. Here, the very attempt, though arduous, is delightful. You may hope for success. And that success will be most precious—a rich reward for all your toils. How delightful, how glorious, if this cherished Seminary, the hope of the churches, may stand erect amidst surrounding declension—a column in a scene of ruins—and bear its decisive, unwavering testimony to the pure doctrines of God’s everlasting gospel.

MY YOUNG FRIENDS, THE STUDENTS OF THIS SEMINARY,

Your father, so -honored, so beloved, is no more. He who bore so great a part in founding and endowing this Institution; he whose interest in its welfare, and its pupils, was unabated to the close of life; he Whom every returning anniversary brought to this spot; and whom—the very last autumn— the infirmities of nearly ninety-three years could not detain—is gone from us for ever. That countenance, so benignant, so absorbed, is changed. That eye which kindled into joy at your attainments, and your prospects, is quenched in death. That heart which labored with unutterable solicitudes for your comfort and usefulness, has ceased its throbbings.

But his memory will be ever present. The evidences of his paternal love throng around you.

[ 34 ]

They meet you in this Chapel, in the Library, in the Lecture rooms, in your Athenaeum, in your studies, in your closets.

If to such a friend, you owe a tender and lasting gratitude, what do you owe to that BEING who raised him up, who breathed such kindness into his heart, and furnished him with means so ample, for its gratification.

To God, then, the Infinite Benefactor, the overflowing Fountain of good, let your purest, warmest gratitude ascend. To his glory, to the gospel of his Son, devote your souls and bodies, your faculties and acquisitions, every hour and moment of your future lives. Of all the beings on whom the sun looks down, there are found none from whom such a tribute is more imperiously due. Should you, going forth from these academic bowers, desert the standard of the cross; should you preach another gospel; would it not be ingratitude to Heaven and earth? Would it not be a species of sacrilege? Must you not be reproached by your own consciences; by the recollected instructions of this spot; by the very manes of your deceased Benefactor?

But it is our privilege to hope better things. It is our delight to expect better things. We believe that in these days of general scepticism, of deplorable vacillation, collision and defection in the very heart of the church, the question dearest to your minds is, What is truth? What are the doctrines which you will determine to preach, and which you will cease to preach, only when you cease to live? On this question, so vitally interesting to yourselves,

[ 35 ]

to the church, to the world, will you, my young friends, accept a few very brief hints?

Are there, then, certain definite, intelligible doctrines which, though overlooked or denied by thousands, are clearly perceived to stand prominent on the pages of the Bible, by two great and opposite classes; I mean, the warm friends of Revelation, and its decided opposers—the former viewing them with pure delight; the latter, with disgust and aversion ?—If so, there is something more than presumptive evidence, that these are the real doctrines of God’s word, and not the fictions of a deluded mind.

Again; are there specific doctrines which exalt God, and lay man in the dust—which kill the vices of the mind, and above all, its pride—its pride— which, rooting up the noxious weeds of the heart, fill the chasm with fragrant flowers, and delicious fruits ?—doctrines which not only reconcile man to God, but assimilate him to God? Surely, these doctrines bear the stamp of heaven.

Once more; are there truths which have been maintained by the church of God in every age, and in every age constituted the hope, the food, the joy of the pious—truths which they have held fast in life, and grasped with tenfold tenacity in death— truths for which martyrs have embraced the stake, and which have changed the bed of torture to a bed of down? Are not these the very truths which Christ has given to his ministers, and which they are bound to give to a dying world?

Go forth, my beloved young friends, and preach these same doctrines in all their purity, and in all

[ 36 ]

their power. Preach them fearlessly, and to the ends Preach them undiluted by human mixtures—undistorted by philosophic subtleties—undepraved by the wisdom or the folly, the learning or the ignorance of man. In doing this, you shall secure the blessings of thousands on earth; and the approving smile of your Judge shall be your everlasting reward.

In conclusion—let me, in this solemn moment, address to this whole assembly the monitions of Inspiration. "The time is short. It remaineth that those who weep, be as though they wept not; and those who rejoice as though they rejoiced not; and those who buy, as though they possessed not; and those who use this world, as not abusing it; for the fashion of this world passeth away."

"Charge those who are rich in this world, that they be not high-minded, nor trust in uncertain riches, but in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy; that they do good; that they be rich in good works, ready to distribute, willing to communicate; laying up in store for themselves a good foundation against the time to come, that they may lay hold on eternal life."

"Thus saith the Lord, Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom; neither let the mighty man glory in his might; let not the rich man glory in his riches; but let him who glorieth, glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the Lord who exercise loving kindness, judgment and righteousness in the earth."

[ Willison ed. Note: Jonathan Edwards, when as a young man meditated on this very verse ( I Tim. 1:17 ), underwent an experience of the Divine presence, as described in his Personal Narrative. (pg 1) We have included Edwards' account here:

THE

SECOND STEREOTYPE EDITION, CORRECTED BY THE AUTHOR

PUBLISHED BY THE

AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY,

150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK.

The text of this and other superb works are available on-line from:

The Willison Politics and Philosophy Resource Center

http://willisoncenter.com/

Reprint and digital file October 16, 2003.

Page numbers in the original appear in brackets as such : [ 3 ].

This selection, ( pp 299-313) consists of Dr. Nelson's observances of both infidels and Christians as they entered the death experience, then recovered. Occurring during his time of infidelity, these remarkable events served to aid his eventual rejection of the thinking of Hume, Voltare &c. The William Tennant, Jr. near death experience is mentioned also. ( See our document on at Willisoncenter.com)

We also included a sketch of his life, pp 395-398.

[ 3 ]

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1841, by DAVID NELSON, in the Clerks Office of the District Court of the Southern District of New York.

[ 4 ]

The President of Centre College, Kentucky, has well said in reference to this work, that "after all the learned, eloquent, and argumentative treatises which have been published, on different branches of the Christian evidences, something was still needed— something adapted to the peculiar tastes and condition of our community," especially to many vigorous minds of the West, where the author’s life has been chiefly spent, "to excite curiosity, awaken attention, and stimulate inquiry—something which should bring down abstruse argument to the apprehension of men in general, and present striking facts to arrest the attention of the indifferent and the sceptical. Facts drawn from history, science, and observation, are here placed in a strong and often startling light, and there is an earnestness, a personality, a warm lifeblood of reality running through the whole, which gives to the written argument much of the interest and power of an oral address."

[ 5 ]

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER LVII.

The influence of religious belief at the time of death: observations

on mans’s departure…………………………………………………………….299

CHAPTER LVIII.

The dying compared with those who think themselves dying,…………………300

CHAPTER LIX.

The subject continued: a revolutionary officer…………………………………..308

CHAPTER LX.

The subject continued: dying fancies……………………………………………311

[ 11 ]

PREFACE.

THE following work is not a compilation of the evidences of Christianity. It was written with the hope of exciting those who need such research, to read many authors on that subject. A book which does not contain a summary of arguments against infidelity, may provoke an appetite to read volumes where those arguments are found. The evidences of Christianity are not fully contained in any half-score of volumes now existing.

The most of those who have written, have aimed at nothing more than an abridgment of this subject, because of its unusual extent. We may present reasons for investigation, and we may persuade others to read, in a shorter space than that which is required to contain a full array of facts in support of revelation. The following pages were written with the design of urging the multitude to become informed concerning the book of books, the Bible. The call for such an attempt—the necessity for it at the present time—we think fairly inferrible from the following facts.

FIRST FACT. It is true, that in almost every congregation there. are some more or less imbued with infidelity, who do not avow it. They are not confirmed sceptics; but Satan's grand effort to prevent their commencing the work of repentance, or seeking the pardon of sin, is made by suggesting unbelieving doubts. The minister who has been long hoping and looking with unceasing anxiety for their conversion to God, never was thus harassed himself, and does not dream of their real condition. Again, there are countless thousands of the youthful and the uninformed, who are thus kept inactive. Temptations of unbelief cripple or prevent their exertions. Books on this subject are found, for the most part, only in libraries, and they are scarce there and, moreover, those found there are not calculated altogether to fit the cases we are now noticing. Those authors aim at cavils the most plausible only, and strike at infidel objections most worthy of answer; whereas the youth thus injured are very often influenced by arguments puerile in the extreme, and so feeble that the better informed would never believe they could be used.

[ 12 ] .

SECOND FACT. The adversary of souls would not have young professors and possessors of religion grow in grace. To prevent it, he injects into their minds cold, unbelieving cavils, which embarrass and retard their march. They read on the subject authors that are powerful and unanswerable in the truths they present; but they have no effect on the young inquirers, for they are not sufficiently simplified and extended. They are invincible in the view of those who are familiar with chronology and history, but they suit the educated alone. It has been long true with the author of the following pages, that after trying to speak on the subject, he has been addressed by young persons, who have told him that they rejoiced he had noticed a certain infidel quibble—that it had long harassed them—that they knew it was weak and puerile, but had still been annoyed without having heard the proper answer given.

THIRD FACT. Infidelity is now growing and spreading to an extent the blindness of the church does not suspect: pocket volumes of false statements, infidel manuals, painted perversions of history, etc., are spreading profusely; while opposite publications are growing more rare.

There are many thousands more in our land now growing up in the darkest unbelief; than is known or suspected by any except those who once themselves fought in that division of Satan’s army.

FOURTH FACT. Those who read on this subject in the church are few, and Christians are, to a great extent, but poorly qualified to instruct, or to answer the objections of sceptics against their holy religion.

It has a bad influence on the youthful spectator who notices a leader in society, "a grey-headed professor," unable to answer the cavil of an uninformed mocker. It has a bad influence on a youthful inquirer, who applies for assistance against some sophism of infidelity to one of God's people, and does not receive it.

AND MORE. Is not the age of infidelity approaching, along with the time of terrible judgments?

In a great part of Catholic Europe, are not large masses of the population almost total atheists?

In Great Britain, do not multitudes of the people openly renounce God’s holy volume?

Is not our own nation walking down the same track?

CHAPTER LVII.

RELIGIOUS BELIEF AT DEATH.

IT does not seem a matter of moment where I begin in trying to present thoughts which passed through my mind, while asking whether or not the Scriptures were of God. At different times, and under various temperaments of soul, I meditated on many points which made on me a lasting impression. Sometimes they spurred me on to further thought, or to more industrious reading. Sometimes they seemed to declare that God had revealed his wishes to men. Whether or not these considerations will thus affect others, I cannot tell. In the narration it matters not, I repeat again, where I begin. I shall commence by repeating a few of my thoughts on death.

OBSERVATIONS ON MAN’S DEPARTURE.

While attending medical lectures at Philadelphia, I heard from the lady with whom I boarded an account of certain individuals who were dead, to all appearance, during the prevalence of the yellow-fever in that city, and yet recovered. The fact that they saw, or fancied they saw things in the world of spirits, awakened my curiosity.

She told me of one with whom she was acquainted, who was so confident of his discoveries that he had seemingly thought of little else afterwards, and it had then been twenty-four years. These things appeared philosophically strange to me, for the following reasons

[ 300 ]

First, those who from bleeding or from any other cause reach a state of syncope, or the ordinary fainting condition, think not at all, or are unable to remember any mental action. When they recover, it appears either that the mind was suspended, or they were unable to recollect its operations. There are those who believe on either side of this question. Some contend for suspension; others deny it, but say we never can recall thoughts formed while the mind is in that state, for reasons not yet understood.

Secondly, those who in approaching death, reach the first state of insensibility and recover from it, are unconscious of any mental activity, and have no thoughts which they can recall.

Thirdly, if this is so, why then should those who had travelled further into the land of death, and had sunk deeper into the condition of bodily inaction, when recovered, by conscious of mental action, and remember thoughts more vivid than ever had flashed across their souls in the health of boyhood, under a vernal sun, and on a plain of flowers?

After this I felt somewhat inclined to watch, when it became my business year after year to stand by the bed of death. That which I saw was not calculated to protract and deepen the slumbers of infidelity, but rather to dispose towards a degree of restlessness, or, at least, to further observation. I knew that the circle of stupor, or insensibility, drawn around life, and through which all either pass or seem to pass who go out of life, was urged by some to prove that the mind could not exist unless it be in connection with organized matter. For the same

[ 301 ]

reason, others have contended that our souls must sleep until the morning of the resurrection, when we shall regain our bodies. That which I witnessed for myself pushed me, willing or unwilling, in a different direction. Before I relate these facts, I must offer something which may illustrate to a certain extent the thoughts towards which they pointed.

If we were to stand on the edge of a very deep ditch or gulf, on the distant verge of which a curtain hangs which obstructs the view, we might feel a wish to know what is beyond it, or whether there is any light in that unseen land. Suppose we were to let down a ladder, protracted greatly in its length, and ask a bold adventurer to descend and make discoveries. He goes to the bottom and then returns, telling us that there he could see nothing; that all was total darkness. We might very naturally infer the absence of light there; but if we concluded that his powers of vision had been annihilated, or that there could surely be no light in the land beyond the curtain, because, to reach that land, a very dark ravine must be crossed, it would have been weak reasoning; so much so, that, if it contented us, we must be easily satisfied. It gave me pain to notice many, nay, many physicians, who, on these very premises, or on something equally weak, were quieting them-selves in the deduction that the soul sees no more after death. Suppose this adventurer descends again, and then ascends the other side so near the top that he can reach the curtain and slightly lift it. When he returns, he tells us that his vision had been suspended totally as before; but that he went nearer

[ 302 ]

the distant land, and it was revived again—that, as the curtain was lifted, he saw brighter light than he had ever seen before. We would say to him, "For a certain distance vision is suspended; but inaction is not loss of sight. Only travel on further, and you will see again." We can understand that any one might go to the bottom of that ravine a thousand times—he might remain there for days, and, if he went no further, he could tell on his return nothing of the unseen regions.

Something like this was illustrated by the facts noted during many years’ employment in the medical profession. A few cases may be taken as examples.

I was called to see a female who departed under an influence which causes the patient to faint again and again, more and still more profoundly, until life is extinct. For the information of physicians, I mention, it was uterine hemorrhage from inseparably attached placenta. When recovered from the first condition of syncope, she appeared as unconscious, or as destitute of activity of spirit, as others usually do. She sunk again and revived; it was still the same. She fainted more profoundly still; and, when awake again, she appeared as others usually do who have no thoughts which they can recall. At length she appeared entirely gone. It did seem as though the struggle was for ever past. Her weeping relatives clasped their hands and exclaimed, "She is dead !" but, unexpectedly, she waked once more, and glancing her eyes on one who sat near, exclaimed, "Oh, Sarah, I was at an entirely new place" and then sunk to remain insensible to the things of this world.

[ 303 ]

Why she, like others in fainting, should have no thoughts which she could recall, when not so near death as she afterwards was when she had thought, I could not clearly explain. Why her greatest activity of mind appeared to happen during her nearest approach to the future world, and while so near that from that stage scarcely any ever return who once reach it, seemed somewhat perplexing to me. I remembered that in the case recorded by Dr. Rush, where the man recovered who was to all appearance entirely dead, his activity of mind was unusual. He thought he heard and saw things unutterable. He did not know whether he was altogether dead or not. St. Paul says he was in a condition so near to death, that he could not tell whether he was out of the body or not; but that he heard things unutterable. I remembered that Tennant of New Jersey, [ William Tennant, Jr. ] and his friends, could not decide whether or not he had been out of the body; but he appeared to be so some days, and thought his discoveries unutterable. The man who cuts his finger and faints, recovering speedily, has no thoughts, or remembers none; he does not approach the distant edge of the ravine. These facts appeared to me poorly calculated to advance the philosophical importance of one who has discovered from sleep, or from syncope, that there is no other existence because this is all which we have seen. They appeared to me rather poorly calculated to promote the tranquillity of one seeking the comforts of atheism. For my own part, I never did desire the consolations of everlasting nothingness; I never could covet a plunge beneath the black wave of eternal

[ 304 ]

forgetfulness, and cannot say that these observations in and of themselves gave me pain. But it was evident that thousands of the scientific were influenced by the weight of a small pebble to adopt a creed, provided that creed contradicted holy writ. I had read and heard too much of man’s depravity and of his love for darkness, not to see that it militated against my system of deism, if it should appear that the otherwise learned should neglect to observe, or if observant, should be satisfied with the most superficial view, and seizing some shallow and questionable facts, build hastily upon them a fabric for eternity.

In the cases of those who, recovering from yellow-fever, thought they had enjoyed intercourse with the world of spirits, they were individuals who had appeared to be dead.

The following fact took place in recent days. Similar occurrences impressed me during years of observation. In the city of St. Louis, a female departed who had a rich portion of the comforts of Christianity. It was after some kind of spasm that was strong enough to have been the death struggle, that she said in a whisper, being unable to speak aloud, to her young pastor, "I had a sight of home, and I saw my Saviour."

There were others who, after wading as far as that which seemed to be the middle of the river, and returning, thought they had seen a different world, and that they had had an antepast of hell. But these cases we pass over; and, in the next chapter, look at facts which! point along the same road we have been travelling.

[ 305 ]

CHAPTER LVI1I.

THE SUBJECT CONTINUED.

I WAS surprised to find that the condition of mind in the case of those who were dying, and of those who only thought themselves dying, differed very widely. I had supposed that the joy or the grief of death originated from the fancy of the patient, one supposing himself very near to great happiness, and the other expecting speedy suffering. My discoveries seemed to overturn this theory. Why should not the professor of religion who believes himself dying when he really is not, rejoice as readily as when he is departing, if his joy is the offspring of expectation? Why should not the alarm of the scoffer who believes himself dying and is not, be as uniform and as decisive as when he is in the river, if it comes of fancied evil or cowardly terrors? The same questions I asked myself again and again. I have no doubt that there is some strange reason connected with our natural disrelish for truth, which causes so many physicians, after seeing such facts so often, never to observe them. During twenty years of observation, I found the state of the soul belonging to the dying was uniformly and materially unlike that of those who only supposed themselves departing. This is best made plain by noting cases which occurred.

[ 306 ]

converted, and his friends, judging from his walk, hoped with him. He was seized with disease, and believed himself within a few paces of the gate of futurity. He felt no joy, his mind was dark and his soul clouded. His exercises were painful, and the opposite of every enjoyment. He was not dying. He recovered. He had not been in the death-stream. After this he was taken again. He believed himself dying, and he was not mistaken. All was peace, serenity, hope, triumph.

2. There was a man who mocked at holy things. He became seriously diseased, and supposed himself sinking into the death-slumber. He was not frightened. His fortitude and composure were his pride, and the boast of his friends. The undaunted firmness with which he could enter futurity was spoken of exultingly. It was a mistake. He was not in the condition of dissolution. His soul never had been on the line between two worlds. After this he was taken ill again. He supposed as before that he was entering the next state, and he really was; but his soul seemed to feel a different atmosphere. The horrors of these scenes have been often described, and are often seen. I need not endeavor to picture such a departure here. The only difficulty in which I was thrown by such cases was, "‘Why was he not thus agonized before, when he thought himself departing? Can it be possible that we can stand so precisely on the dividing line, that the gale from both this and the coming world may blow upon our cheek? Can we have a taste of the exercises of the next territory before we enter it?" When I attempted to account

[ 307 ]

for this on the simple ground of bravery and cowardice, I was met by the two following facts.

First, I have known those—the cases are not unfrequent—who were brave, who had stood unflinching in battle’s whirlpool. They had resolved never to disgrace their system of unbelief by a trembling death. They had called to Christians in the tone of resolve, saying, "I can die as coolly as you can." I had seen those die from whom entire firmness might fairly be expected. I had heard groans, even if the teeth were clenched for fear of complaint, such as I never wish to hear again; and I had looked into countenances, such as I hope never to see again.

Again, I had seen cowards die. I had seen those depart who were naturally timid, who expected themselves to meet death with fright and alarm. I had heard such, as it were, sing before Jordan was half forded. I had seen faces where, palled as they were, I beheld more celestial triumph than I had ever witnessed anywhere else. In that voice there was a sweetness, and in that eye there was a glory, which I never could have fancied in the death-spasms, if I had not been near.

[ 308 ]

CHAPTER LIX.

THE SUBJECT CONTINUED.

THE condition of the soul, when the death-stream is entered, is not the same with that which it often becomes when it is almost passed. The brave man who steps upon the ladder across the dark ravine, with eye undaunted and haughty spirit, changes fearfully, in many cases, when he comes near enough to the curtain to lift it. The Christian who goes down the ladder pale and disconsolate, oftentimes starts with exultation and tries to burst into a song when almost across.

ILLUSTRATION. A revolutionary officer, wounded at the battle of Germantown, was praised for his patriotism. The war ended, but he continued still to fight, in a different way, under the banner of one whom he called the Captain of his salvation. The applause of man never made him too proud to talk of the Man of Calvary. The hurry of life’s driving pursuits could not consume all his time, or make him forget to kneel by the side of his consort, in the circle of his children, and anticipate a happy meeting in a more quiet clime.

To abbreviate this history, his life was such that those who knew him believed, if any one ever did die happily, this man would be one of that class. I saw him when the time arrived. He said to those around him, "I am not as happy as I could wish, or as I had

[ 309 ]

expected. I cannot say that I distrust my Saviour, for I know in whom I have believed; but I have not that pleasing readiness to depart which I had looked for." This distressed his relatives beyond expression. His friends were greatly pained, for they had looked for triumph. His departure was very slow, and still his language was, "I have no exhilaration or delightful readiness in my travel." The weeping circle pressed around him. Another hour passed. His hands and his feet became entirely cold. The feeling of heart remained the same. Another hour passes, and his vision has grown dim, but the state of his soul is unchanged. His daughter seemed as though her body could not sustain her anguish of spirit, if her father should cross the valley before the cloud passed from his sun. Before his hearing vanished, she made an agreement with him that at any stage as he travelled on, if he had a discovery of advancing glory, or a foretaste of heavenly delight, he should give her a certain token with his hand; his hands he could still move, cold as they were. She sat holding his hand hour after hour. In addition to his sight, his hearing at length failed. After a time he appeared almost unconscious of any thing, and the obstructed breathing peculiar to death was advanced near its termination, when he gave tile token to his pale, but now joyous daughter; and the expressive flash of exultation was seen to spread itself through the stiffening muscles of his face. When his child asked him to give a signal if he had any happy view of heavenly light, with the feelings and opinions I once owned I could have asked, "Do you suppose that the increase of the

[ 310 ]

death-chill will add to his happiness? Are you to expect, that as his eyesight leaves, and as his hearing becomes confused, and his breathing convulsed, and as he sinks into that cold, fainting, sickening condition of pallid death, his exultation is to commence

It did then commence. Then is the time when many who enter the dark valley cheerless, begin to see something that transports; but some are too low to tell of it, and their friends think they departed under a cloud, when they really did not. It is at this stage of the journey that the enemy of God, who started with look of defiance and words of pride, seems to meet with that which alters his views and expectations; but he cannot tell it, for his tongue can no longer move.

Those who inquire after and read the death of the wife of the celebrated John Newton, will find a very plain and very interesting instance where the Saviour seemed to meet with a smiling countenance his dying servant, when she had advanced too far to call back to her sorrowful friends, and tell them of the pleasing news.

[ 311 ]

CHAPTER LX.

THE SUBJECT CONTINUED.

My attention was awakened very much by observing the dying fancies of the servants of this world, differing with such characteristic singularity from the fancies of the departing Christian. It is no uncommon thing for those who die to believe they see, or hear, or feel that which appears only fancy to by-standers. Their friends believe that it is the overturning of their intellect. I am not about to enter into the discussion of the question, whether it is or is not always fancy. Some attribute it to more than fancy; but inasmuch as in many instances the mind is deranged while its habitation is falling into ruins, and inasmuch as it is the common belief that it is only imagination of which I am writing, we will look at it under the name of fancy.

The fanciful views of the dying servants of sin, and the devoted friends of Christ, were strangely different as far as my observation extended. One who had been an entire sensualist and a mocker at religion, while dying, appeared in his senses in all but one thing. "Take that black man from the room," said he. He was answered that there was none in the room. He replied, "There he is, standing near the window. His presence is very irksome to me, take him out." After a time, again and again his

[ 312 ]

call was, "Will no one remove him? There he is; surely some one will take him away."

I was mentioning to another physician my surprise that he should have been so much distressed even if there had been many blacks in the room, for he had been waited on by them day and night for many years; and also my wonder that the mind had not been diseased in some other respect, when he told me the names of two others, his patients, men of similar lives, who were tormented with the same fancy, and in the same way, while dying.

A young female who called the Man of Calvary her greatest friend, was, when dying, in her senses in all but one particular. "Mother," she would say, pointing in a certain direction, " do you see those beautiful creatures ?" Her mother would answer, "No, there is no one there, my dear." She would reply, "Well, that is strange. I never saw such countenances and such attire. My eye never rested on any thing so lovely." Oh, says one, this is all imagination, and the notions of a mind collapsing; wherefore tell of it? My answer is, that I am not about to dispute, or to deny that it is fancy; but the fancies differ in features and in texture. Some in their derangement call out, " Catch me, I am sinking; hold me, I am falling ;" others say, "Do you hear that music? Oh, were ever notes so celestial !" This kind of notes, and these classes of fancies belonged to different classes of individuals, and who they were, was the item which attracted my wonder. Such things are noticed by few, and remembered by almost none; but I am inclined to believe, that if

[ 313 ]

notes were kept of such cases, volumes of interest might be formed.

My last remark here, reader, is, that we necessarily speak somewhat in the dark of such matters, but you and I will know more shortly. Both of us will see and feel for ourselves where we cannot be mistaken, in the course of a very few months, or years.

[ 395 ]

The author of this striking work, which has been blessed in bringing scores of infidels to Christ, and of which not far from 100,000 copies have been circulated, was eminent as an intelligent infidel [ Deistical, Willison ed. ] physician, and then as an able minister of Christ. He loved much, for he had much forgiven.

He was born September 24, 1793, near Jonesborough, East Tennessee; and died at Quincy, Illinois, October 17, 1844, aged 51. His parents were from Virginia, his father an officer of the church, and his mother, who was of Scotch descent, eminently pious: In childhood and youth he was sedate and contemplative, his mind seeming to receive an impression from the lofty and romantic scenery around the Nolachucky, near the banks of which he was reared. At twelve he thought himself converted, and soon entered Washington College, near his father’s residence, at which he graduated at sixteen, when he proceeded to Danville, Kentucky, where his elder brother was then settled in the ministry, and entered on the study of medicine with the celebrated Dr. Ephraim McDowell.

At nineteen, just as he was entering on the practice of medicine, he joined himself as surgeon to a Kentucky regiment then proceeding to Canada in the war with Great Britain, where he suffered every privation. In one march, in the severe cold and deep snows of a wild Indian territory, exhausted by hunger and fatigue, he suffered himself to he left unobserved, and resolved there to lie down and die. But his friend and cousin, the brave

[ 396 ] Col. Allen, who afterwards fell at Tippecanoe, missed him, went back, roused him from his deathlike slumber, took him on his powerful horse, and thus saved him for the work God had appointed him to do. Returning from his northern campaign, he entered on the practice of medicine in Jonesborough; but at the call of Generals Jackson and Coffee, he enlisted again as surgeon of a regiment for the South, and in the wilds of Alabama flooded with rain was seized by fever, reduced to the utmost extremity, but raised up, and at Mobile on the eve of an expected battle, received the news of peace.

He returned to Jonesborough, resumed his profession, at twenty-two married a daughter of David Deaderick, to whom allusion is made in his work as a highly respected infidel merchant of Tennessee, and became eminent as a physician, his practice extending into neighboring counties, and bringing him an income of some $3,000 a year, which he at length relinquished that he might win souls to Christ in the ministry.

In the pursuit of medical science, while infidelity swayed the higher circles, and the works of Volney, Voltaire, and Paine were in high repute, Dr. Nelson—like many who in early life obtained a false hope of their conversion—was led to believe that he had been self-deceived, and that all religion, and the Bible itself was a .delusion. He became an honest unreflecting deist, in which scepticism he was but confirmed by his connection with the army and his subsequent relations in life.

The wonderful processes of his mind in giving up this infidelity, by reluctantly detecting the dishonesty and unfairness of Voltaire and other infidel writers, and by a patient, intelligent examination of the whole subject in his own heart, in the lives and conduct of believers and unbelievers, in practical writings, and especially in the word of God, form perhaps the most interesting portion of his now celebrated work. It is hard for any reader to question his sincerity, the stern integrity, patience, and thoroughness o his investigation, or doubt that he was led by the Holy Spirit, in the true and right way.

At the age of twenty-five he joined the Presbyterian church, of which his father was an elder, deploring his long rejection of the Saviour he now delighted to honor, and resolving to redeem.

[ 397 ]

the time by the unreserved consecration of all his powers to him. At first his diffidence scarcely allowed him to lead others in prayer; but his inventive mind, warm heart, and ceaseless energy found many means of usefulness, including the wide circulation of good books while in his extensive medical practice. It is stated that a sermon he heard from the lamented Dr. Cornelius, who passed through Tennessee, fired his mind with the most enlarged missionary spirit, which expired only with his life.

At about the age of thirty-three he gave himself publicly to the ministry of reconciliation, assisted for a time in editing a religious periodical, and was soon installed in Danville, Kentucky, where he had imbibed his infidelity, as successor of his worthy deceased brother, who had done- so much for the church and college there. He soon proved that he had indeed been called to the work of the ministry. He became "a burning and a shining light," not only to his own congregation, but far and wide throughout the state, where the rich effusions of the Spirit abundantly attended his labors; and it was those revivals which were the manifest precursors of the great revival of 1831 which extended throughout the land, and added to the churches more than one hundred thousand souls. He seemed to imbibe, in measure, the whole spirit of our Lord. In personal efforts for the salvation of individuals, he labored like Harlan Page. In the pulpit, his tall, manly form and kindled eye, his frankness and generosity of spirit, the gushing love of his heart for souls, his bold, free, original eloquence, his powerful appeals to the heart and conscience, his full and clear exhibition of Christ and his salvation attracted and fixed the attention of his hearers. And his missionary spirit was large as the world. Especially was his attention directed to the moral wastes, and the training of pious young men, who were then brought into the church in such numbers, for the ministry and missionary work at home and abroad.

It was this spirit that led him to plan and lay the foundation of Marion College in Missouri, for which he visited our Eastern cities, where his fervent appeals at once for money and for the salvation of his hearers endeared him to tens of thousands. Unexpected events thwarting his expectations in Missouri, he

transferred his efforts to forming a somewhat similar establishment at Quincy, Illinois, freely to educate young men as ministers and missionaries. But in the midst of these exhausting efforts, in which he expended all his personal means, he was attacked with epilepsy or paralysis, which gradually unfitted him for labor, and terminated his life at the age of 51.

He wrote the Cause and Cure of Infidelity about 1836, in the first summer of his residence in Illinois, chiefly under the shade of four large oaks, drawing mainly from the resources of his own mind and memory. He also wrote another treatise entitled "Wealth and Honor," breathing a missionary spirit as expansive as the ruins of the fall, summoning the whole energies of the church of God for the world’s redemption, and showing that her wealth and her honor were in rescuing lost souls, and adding them as gems to the Redeemer’s crown. He carried this work to the East for publication, but it is now supposed to be irrecoverably lost.

In his declining health, and often in severe suffering, he mourned mainly that he could not preach the gospel and labor to win sinners to Christ; but he murmured not against the divine will. When the hour of his departure drew nigh, he called to him his wife and so many of his eleven children as were near, saying, "My Master calls. I am going home. Kiss me, my children, and take your last farewell, for I shall soon be in a state of insensibility, and shall not know you." He expressed his wishes in various respects, and then said, "It is well," and slumbered till the resurrection-morn.

His body rests in the cemetery at Woodland, near Quincy, Illinois, where a neat monument bears the following inscription:

"Rev. David Nelson, M. D., author of the Cause and Cure of Infidelity, born in East Tennessee, September 24, 1793—a surgeon in the United States army—a distinguished physician in his native state—a devoted minister of Christ in Danville, Kentucky—a messenger of grace to multitudes—a founder of institutions of learning. Died October 17, 1844, aged 51.

"Erected by friends in New York."

IN THE CHAPEL OF THE SOUTH CAROLINA COLLEGE,

ON THE 9^th OF OCTOBER, 1842,

BY JAMES H. THORNWELL,

PRINTED BY SAMUEL WEIR, AT THE SOUTHERN CHRONICLE OFFICE.

1842.

The text of this and other superb works are available on-line from:

The Willison Politics and Philosophy Resource Center

http://willisoncenter.com/

Reprint and digital file August 14, 2001.

This reprint of James Henley Thornwell’s funeral sermon on the occasion of the death of Benjamin R. Maybin, entitled "The Vanity and Glory of Man," was accomplished through the process of electronic transcription. It was first published in 1842. Although a funeral sermon, the content abounds with the rich truths of God’s Word concerning the nature of sin and the work of conscience. He also develops various areas of eschatology such as the human race under the curse, the end times, judgment, eternal punishment for those who deny that Jesus is the Lord of glory—and eternal life in the presence of the Lord for those who know Him.

The original archaic spellings have been retained. Pagination has changed according to the reprint format. Also, asterisks were used in the original to indicate a footnote. Numbers replace the asterisks and one footnote was added with the editor’s translation of a Latin phrase.

The original electronic transcription was edited with great care. Regardless, it may contain errors common to the electronic scanning process. Therefore, this reprint may not be in final form.

Preceding the sermon is the original dedication to the students of the South Carolina College. It is a grand display of a pastor’s heart. All who desire to read this sermon are encouraged to read the dedication. In the dedication, one finds the love that James H. Thornwell demonstrated toward his students.

Of most importance, the love of the Lord resounds in this grand display of the rich truths from His Word. It is to this Lord—the Lord of glory, Jesus Christ—that the editor desired to reprint this sermon. Why? That all who read it may stand in awe of the Lord’s infinite power, glory justice and His love so vibrantly displayed His Word and expounded upon in this work. Ed.

Timeless Tracts

July 30, 2001

TimelessTracts@netscape.net

This Sermon, originally composed for their benefit, is now, most respectfully dedicated. A sincere desire to promote their spiritual interests has induced the Author to commit to the Press what he is aware is recommended by no other excellence than the simplicity of truth and the sincerity of Christian affection. He has hoped that while the event which gave rise to the discourse is fresh in the memory of his young friends, they may be induced to lay seriously to heart the solemn admonitions which the preacher attempted from the desk, and now endeavors from the press, to fix upon their minds. That the Eternal Spirit, through whose instructions alone we can be made wise unto salvation, may impart His blessing to the feeble effort which is here put forth to glorify His name, is the fervent, heartfelt prayer of the AUTHOR.

JOB 14: 10.

In the mysterious providence of God, we are called, my Friends, upon our first assembling together to enter the house of mourning. One of your companions has departed "to return no more to his own house, neither shall his place know him anymore;" he "hath given up the ghost, his sun has gone down while it was yet day." He had just begun to look abroad upon the world, and to acquire that manly discipline which was to fit him for acting an honorable part in its affairs, when, lo, the destroyer came, and by a single stroke blasted all his hopes, scattered his youthful dreams, and laid him low in the dust. "The voice of one preparing in the wilderness the way of the Lord" was directed to cry, and "he said, what shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of grass; the grass withereth, the flower fadeth, because the Spirit of the Lord bloweth upon it; surely the people is grass."

The ravages of death and the vicissitudes of time so constantly impress the mind with the vanity of earthly pursuits, that the folly alike of our hopes and fears has been, in all ages of the world, among philosophers, moralists and poets, the fruitful theme of declamation and of song. We are prone, however, to indulge in a sort of vague and melancholy musing, in which the decay of kingdoms, the revolutions of empires, the fashion of this world passing away, and the whole race of man, in successive generations, travelling down to the chambers of the dead, are suffered to affect the imagination with solemnity and awe without being permitted to penetrate the heart. If we contract our views within a narrower compass, to a single victim of mortality, we are rather inclined to dwell upon the accidents of death, in which much is found to awaken our sympathies, than to look upon it as it is, in its own nature, the porch of the judgment hall. We are willing to lament in the language of the text, "man dieth and wasteth away," but we forget the still more solemn truth, "he hath given up the ghost;" he hath surrendered an immortal spirit into the hands of God, and its eternal doom is sealed.

That poetical solemnity, if I may so express it, which springs from the contemplation of death merely as the close of life, when an end is put to our hopes and fears; the eye has gazed for the last time upon the light of day; the heart has ceased to beat with affection, and friendship and the dearest ones on earth can awaken no token of recognition or esteem; when a family is involved in mourning, and weeping friends refuse to be comforted; that solemnity which is produced by circumstances like these, will inevitably pass away as the morning cloud or early dew; or rather it will vanish like an arrow through the air, leaving no trace behind of solid improvement or substantial good. He that has thus wept at the grave of a friend, and sighed at the vanity of earthly pursuits, will soon forget his griefs and plunge with increased alacrity into the cares of life. The scene which death had just disrobed of its decorations will be adorned again with brighter colours of hope; the delusions of sense will resume their accustomed grasp, and the house of mourning be exchanged for the laughter of fools and the frivolities of mirth.

There is a voice, however, which cries to us from the tombs, and which, aiming far higher than to awaken a few transient emotions, instructs us in lessons of everlasting importance. It is the voice of God confirming by His providence the solemn monitions of His word, and as it proclaims the vanity of all things earthly; riches, pleasures, learning and friends; its design is not to inspire a sickly disgust of life, nor to torture the heart with bitter complaints of our perishing state, but to turn our eyes from this dissolving tabernacle and this fading world to "that building of God, that house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." The grave, like the ancient pillar of cloud, though dark on one side is bright on the other; it shrouds the earth in gloom, throws a damp upon its brightest joys, and withers its fairest honours only to teach us, that here "we have no continuing city; that we are only strangers and pilgrims upon earth," and that our abiding home, the true rest of the soul, is beyond the skies. At the grave we stand upon the confines of two worlds, and occupy the best position for estimating rightly our highest duties and truest interest. We can look back upon life, we can look forward to eternity, and from the indissoluble connection of the two can learn the value to be set upon the one and the required preparation to be made for the other.

In pursuing this train of reflection which strikes me as best suited to the occasion, it shall be my object to illustrate the vanity of man, apart from his immortality, and then conduct you by a necessary inference from the wisdom and goodness of God to a full and distinct conviction of the reality of that future state which is brought to light in the Gospel. *

[ Footnote 1: See the admirable discourse of John Howe, entitled, "The Vanity of Man as Mortal." Robert Hall has also a sermon on the same subject, to 1,e, found in vol. 6th of his works, Eng. Edition. ]

To him who, acknowledges the perfections of God, and yet denies the immortality of the soul human life must appear an inexplicable mystery. No end commensurate with the faculties of man, or worthy of his exalted nature, can possibly be achieved within the short compass allotted to the continuance of his being upon earth. Even if the objects which are so eagerly pursued by the mass of our race were capable of yielding the happiness for which they are coveted, our time is so limited that the toil of securing them would be too costly a price for the pleasure of enjoyment. Wealth, pleasure, learning and honor, the painted vanities which share the affections and homage of mankind, whatever blessings they confer, require them to be purchased with arduous sacrifices and painful privations; with prayers and tears and blood. Like all other idols they doom their victims to inexorable bondage. If by laborious diligence and severe self-denial we could have at our command the gold of ophir and the pearls of the sea; if we could call the world our own, with all its pleasures, honors and glories; if we could travel that mysterious path of wisdom which no "fowl knoweth and which the vulture’s eye hath not seen," who would feel rewarded for his toils, for his anxious days and his sleepless nights, by the few moments of hasty fruition redeemed from the pursuit? The period allotted to enjoyment would be so exceedingly short, that all our possessions would be stamped with unspeakable vanity. In the grave, whither we are all hastening, the rich and the poor are promiscuously mingled together; the distinctions of honour vanish away as colours disappear in the dark; the fascinations of pleasure lose their power to intoxicate the heart, and royal dust is found to be as perishing as the clay of the beggar. "Surely man, at his best estate, is altogether vanity."

No good can be perfect which is not durable. The prospect of termination, however remote, is a source of anxiety, and the pain of apprehension is increased just in proportion as perpetuity is desired. The most exalted objects, therefore, in the gratifications which they afford, are subject to the largest deductions; and he who would dash his cup with the smallest ingredient of bitterness, must be content to waste his life upon the least honourable and worthy pursuits. Man, by nature, a prospective animal, is the creature of hope and fear, and the complexion of the present is determined by the phantoms of the future casting their shadows before. Calamities foreseen are hardly less bitter than calamities at hand; and who looks forward to the time when his richest joys shall be driven from his breast, experiences already a portion of the anguish which actual bereavement will entail upon his heart. Poets and philosophers have combined in denouncing the folly of "forestalling our griefs, and running to meet what we would most avoid," but neither poetry nor philosophy can change the essential constitution of our nature. However unwisely they may act in this respect, men will always anticipate the future; and if it cast a lowering frown upon the present, it will divest that present of all its charms. The vale below may be beautiful and verdant, but its atmosphere is chilled by the eternal snows which rest upon the mountains around. The ghastly image of death, obtruding into all our pursuits, must diffuse a feeling of insecurity and terror which the richest possessions are unable to expel; and as that class of futurities which are apprehended to be near at hand more sensibly affect us than those which are distant, death, which is always at the door, which is forced upon our thoughts by every opening grave, every funeral bell, every groan of agonized, smitten humanity, must often involve our thoughts in gloom before we are driven to the land of darkness and despair.

In some it might be that the prospect of a speedy dissolution would inspire additional ardour in the career of indulgence, the heart being maddened by despair of durable good to extract from the present every portion of enjoyment which its objects were capable of yielding. But the eagerness of desire would frustrate its own end; it would itself become a source of uneasiness and poison the cup which it intended to exhaust. As the miser by his greediness to horde loses all the satisfaction which money can impart, so these miserable votaries of sense, in their anxiety to secure every fragment of pleasure, are in danger of corrupting what they might enjoy by grasping at too much. In their zeal to drain the bowl to the bottom, they mar the flavour of the wine by the infusion of the dregs. He who is tormented with the fear that some possible indulgence shall escape him, is just as truly miserable as he who "through fear of death is all his lifetime subject to bondage." Both are strangers to that serenity of mind which alone is worthy of being dignified as happiness, in which all the powers of the soul are harmoniously adjusted; in which it is free from the perturbations of fear, the seductions of fancy and the impatience of hope, and all the faculties rest in the enjoyment of a satisfying good. The degree of misery does not depend upon the real magnitude of the cause which produces it: the disappointment of the sensualist may be to him the occasion of as keen an anguish as the loss of character or the loss of kingdoms to wiser men. Such, in fact, is the constitution, of man that a single element of uneasiness, however trifling in its own nature, may outweigh a thousand sources of felicity. Our impressions of pleasure or of pain depend upon the, character of the objects which absorb our attention; that only having a real existence to us which exists in the mind. Whatever, therefore, concentrates the thoughts upon itself virtually annihilates every other object, and renders us incapable of any other emotions but those which its own nature is suited to produce. It becomes the master of the man and imparts its own complexion to the feelings of his heart. Hence a single want, whether real or imaginary, by engrossing the whole attention to itself, may make even the favourite of fortune truly miserable in the midst of his affluence and honours. The glory of his riches, the multitude of his children and the distinguished favours of the king were nothing to the wretched Haman so long as he saw Mordecai, the Jew, sitting at the king’s gate.

If the objects of sense upon the supposition of their intrinsic value,—a supposition justified neither by reason nor experience and made only for the purpose of setting the argument in a stronger light,—if upon this gratuitous supposition these objects, in their relations to us, are fraught in vanity and vexation of spirit, on account of the shortness of our mortal career, the toils and sacrifices which it requires to secure them, the gloomy prospect of approaching dissolution and the impatient suicidal desire of seizing all possible indulgence, how much darker is the picture upon the true statement of the case, that the world and all its charms are empty, worthless, delusive! In this view, the true’ view of our condition,—if our prospects are to be bounded by the limits of the grave and no hereafter exists beyond it,-man is not only vanity himself, but the tenant of a vain world. In the beautiful language of the Psalmist, "he walketh in a vain shew." A shadow, at best, he is doomed everlastingly to grasp at phantoms and to be mocked with images of unreal good. The earth becomes but the pomp of a theatre where a succession of busy scenes is presented, "full of sound and fury, but signifying nothing."—He spends his "days as a dream or as a tale that is told." The melancholy picture which Job draws of his own condition may be applied to the human race, if there be no reason for believing that "a change shall come and that, if a man die, he shall live again." "I am made," says he, "to possess months of vanity and wearisome nights are appointed unto me. My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle and are spent without hope. Oh, remember that my life is wind; mine eye shall no more see good. As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away, so he that goeth down to the grave, shall come tip no more." And if this be the true statement of the case who will not join with the patriarch in his solemn expostulation: "Therefore I will not refrain my mouth, I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul. My soul chooseth strangling and death rather than my life. I loath it, I would not live alway—let me alone—for my days are vanity."

Whatever is proposed as the supreme good of the soul must be something congenial with its nature. Happiness consists in enjoyment, and perfect enjoyment is found in the complete adaptation of external objects to the affections and desires of the mind. Such is our helpless and dependent condition that we must go abroad from ourselves in quest of felicity; and such the exquisite sensibility of our spirits that without the fullest sympathy with the objects of our pursuit, our hearts are lonely and desolate. To Jehovah alone it belongs to be sufficient to Himself—to find in the fullness of His Own being an inexhaustible fountain of blessedness, so that when "the youths shall faint and be weary and the young men utterly fall, the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth fainteth not, neither is weary. Finite minds require the sympathy of superior natures, and where this cannot be afforded, their way is beset with thorns and their light expires in darkness. To him who considers the distinguishing excellence of man, his moral and intellectual capacities, the assertion will not seem extravagant, that the world in all its glory is too poor to present a single object fit to be pursued as the ultimate portion of the soul. A perfect good, suited to the nature of the mind, in which it can fully and completely sympathize, which leaves nothing to be sought and from which nothing can be feared, has been, for ages and generations past, the object of anxious desire and diligent pursuit—the whole family of man with hardly a single exception has been embarked in the enterprize—the ocean’s depths have been sounded—the caverns of the earth explored and the powers of nature put to the torture, and all have answered and all will forever answer, each for himself, "it is not in me."

They who bound the destiny of man by time, destroy his hopes of immortality and divest him of the prospect of everlasting communion with his God, represent him, with most detestable cruelty, as an orphan in the world. To the wretch who is burdened with a wounded spirit and seeks in the sympathy of a superior nature a solace for his woe, all the consolations which earth can suggest are like the voice of strangers to him who is dying in a foreign land. The soul, true to its refined and spiritual instincts scorns communion with the gross and senseless elements of matter. Raised by his illustrious Powers to an exalted station in the earth man may consistently make the world his servant, but never with impunity his God: and he who degrades his moral and intellectual being so low as to seek a portion with the beasts of the field and the fowls of the air, must expect, as he sows the wind, to reap the whirlwind.

The only class of pleasures which are suited to the peculiar constitution of man are those of the understanding and the heart; all others he enjoys in common with the brute. It might be supposed from the refined and exalted nature of intellectual pursuits that the investigation of truth, the perception of moral distinctions and the practice of duty would redeem his condition from the imputation of vanity and yield him in this world, short as his stay is, a satisfying good. We are apt, however, to be misled by the splendid declamation in which master spirits have indulged on the delights which accrue from, the possession of knowledge, and indulged with safety, because the mass of mankind have not the experience by which they might correct the extravagance of the picture. To them it is only a painting, and their task is done when they have admired the richness of the colouring and the beauty of the outline, while those who know that it has no adequate prototype in nature are so charmed with the delusion that they are unwilling to break its spell. In all such high-wrought descriptions no abatements are made for human infirmity and weakness. They place man upon an eminence which he never yet has attained, and which, it is not too much to assert, he never will attain in his sublunary state, from which he is "greeted with good prospects and melodious sounds on every side" without being disturbed by the "errors, wanderings, mists and tempests in the vale below." To the infinite mind of God, the contemplation of truth is undoubtedly a source of pure and ineffable delight. Free from the distracting anxieties of doubt, unruffled by prejudice and unmoved by the seduction of fallacious appearances, His breast, like the tranquil bosom of a lake, reflects the image of things in unbroken beauty. To Him there is no horizon of darkness bounding the limits of His view. Dwelling in light inconceivably glorious, the night shineth as the day; from the in mysterious depths of His eternity, He surveys all possible and real things—embraces the past, the present and the future in a single glance of unerring intuition and claims the distinguished prerogative of being the Father of truth. But how different is the state of mortals like ourselves! Perpetually exposed to the fascinations of falsehood, the delusions of prejudice, the torment of doubt, and the insatiable demands of curiosity, intellectual pleasures to us are by no means unmixed, and we feel constrained, however reluctantly, to justify the verdict of him who had had great experience of wisdom and knowledge, that in "much wisdom is much grief, and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." To say nothing of the intense application, the self-denying vigils, the wasting of the frame and the exhaustion of the spirits which must usually be paid as the price of truth, the conviction of ignorance, always painful and distressing, keeps pace with the expansion of the mind. As light is let into the soul, the circle of darkness is enlarged; and the utmost diligence of effort brings it no nearer the successful termination of its labours. We are always, relatively, just where we began—the original proportions of our ignorance and knowledge remain unchanged, and if our materials of mental enjoyment have accumulated, the sources of anxiety and suspense have been correspondingly increased. So many allowances indeed must be made for the unavoidable weaknesses of man, that if our existence is to terminate at death, it may justly admit of doubt whether the balance of happiness, on the whole, be found with the wise man or the fool.

The supreme good, in whatever it may be thought to consist, should possess the double property of imparting pleasure, and resisting pain; it should be at once "a sun and a shield." The rest of the soul implies a peaceful serenity which no clouds can darken, no winds can agitate and no storms disturb. But what a feeble barrier is knowledge against the encroachments of calamity from either within or without? Though it has been compared to the harp of Orpheus, it possesses no power to quell the impetuous passions of the breast, to soothe the troubled conscience or to eradicate anger, ambition and revenge those master lusts which have disturbed the peace of empires, deluged the earth in blood and made the world a field of skulls. It cannot relieve the anguish of want, allay the pangs of disease or soften the couch of death. In our moments of deepest distress, when the heart, torn by sorrows which it cannot pour into the bosom of mortals, bleeds in retirement, its ear is heavy that it cannot hear and its arm shortened that it cannot save. It is the decree of God, and no mortal tribunal can reverse it. "Behold all ye that kindle a fire, that compass yourselves about with sparks—walk in the light of your fire and the sparks that ye have kindled. This shall ye have of mine hand; ye shall lie down in sorrow." When the judgments of God were denounced against Babylon—and one of the grounds was, her "wisdom and knowledge had perverted her"—her men of science and philosophy—her "astrologers, stargazers, and monthly prognosticators," were required to stand up and save their city from the impending doom; but, oh, the deplorable blindness of man! they were unable to deliver even their own souls from the power of the flame.

When we turn to our moral constitution by which we are enabled to recognize the distinctions of right and wrong, and become the subjects of moral obligation, so far are we from perceiving, if this be our final state, any end consistent with the perfections of God or the happiness of man which can be accomplished by this crowning glory of our nature, that conscience seems to be given only to mock, mislead and annoy.

The pleasure’s which result from the consciousness of rectitude are undoubtedly the most pure and elevated of which the human mind is susceptible. But whether virtue would not lose its strongest attractions, whether, indeed, all sense of moral obligation would not be entirely obliterated, deserves to be seriously considered by those who, professing to be the friends of morality, are yet the deadliest enemies to the most cheering hopes of mankind. Philosophers have involved the question of duty in much obscurity and confusion by not properly discriminating between the grounds of obligation and the nature of virtue. What virtue is, as a natural object, or how it is distinguished from vice, is a very different inquiry from the reason of man’s being obliged to cultivate and practice it. Definitions of virtue only ascertain what is binding, and not why it is binding. The natural properties of things should not be unfounded with their moral qualities. Virtue and vice, or rather those principles and actions to which these qualities belong, may be contemplated merely as natural objects, without any reference to their moral character, or the obligation upon us to cherish the one and avoid the other. In this view, though they will be found to be vastly different, the difference will be purely—arising from their essential attributes, as distinct existences, and analagous to that of light and darkness, of heat and cold, or any other physical entities. As results of their natural and essential differences, we may perceive the fitness of virtue to promote the harmony, peace and well being of society, and the tendency of vice to destroy the order and happiness of the world, just as we perceive the adaptation of the eye to the laws of light and its unsuitableness to a condition of darkness. But the fitness or unfitness of things to particular ends can never impose a moral obligation. The understanding may admire the harmony of parts, and the skillful adaptation of the whole, but the understanding is not the seat of duty. It may show us the expediency but not the obligation of adapting our conduct to the fitness of things. We may be even struck with the beauty of virtue and the deformity of vice regarded still as only natural objects. We may be pleased with one and abhor the other; but the pleasure derived from virtue in this case, is the pleasure of sentiment and not of conscious rectitude,—a pleasure of the same kind as that which we receive from a fine description, a verdant landscape, or a finished painting; a pleasure addressed to taste and not to conscience and founded on the inherent tendency of virtue, apart from its moral character, to excite pleasant emotions. This pleasure would exist if all sense of obligation were banished from the world. We advance no nearer to a satisfactory account of moral obligation by resolving virtue into sympathy, benevolence, utility, or any other single principle or combination of principles. These various theories are only efforts—whether successful or not, it is not my present purpose to inquire—to define what it is and to distinguish it from vice; they rise no higher than a description of its natural properties and consequently leave the question of obligation wholly untouched. Granting these accounts of the nature of virtue to be correct, we may still ask why it is obligatory? The natural and essential differences of actions, however striking and important, can never give rise to the feeling of duty. We must look to some other source besides abstract contemplation, upon things themselves or their relations to each other for a true solution of this moral phenomenon.

It is evident that obligation implies authority, and supposes a law. And as man cannot exist to himself in the double and contradictory relations of master and servant, ruler and subject, obliger and obliged, he must look beyond himself for the true foundation of duty. Again, law is the expression of will, and will is the attribute of an intelligent person—so that we can never

reach the source of obligation until we have been conducted to a person who is capable of enforcing his will by adequate sanctions. The will of such a person is the ground and measure of moral obligation. *

[ Footnote 2: "Each animal hath its instinct implanted by nature to direct it to its greatest good. Amongst these man has his, to which modern philosophers have given the name of the Moral Sense; whereby we conceive and feel a pleasure in right and distaste and aversion to wrong, prior to all reflection or their nature or their consequences. This is the first inlet to the adequate idea of morality; and plainly the most extensive of all; the atheist as well as theist having it. When instinct had gone thus far, the reasoning faculty improved upon its dictates: For men, led by reflection, to examine the foundation of this moral sense, soon discovered that there were real essential differences in the qualities of human actions, established by nature; and, consequently, that the love and hatred excited by the moral sense were not capricious in their operations; for, that in the essential properties of their objects, there was a specific difference. Reason having gone thus far (and thus far too it might conduct the Stratonic Atheist) it stopped; and saw that something was still wanting whereon to establish the morality, properly so called, of actions—that is, an obligation on men to perform some and avoid others; and that, to find this something, there was need of calling in other principles to its assistance: Because nothing can thus oblige but it superior will; and such a will could not be found till the being and attributes of God were established, but was discovered with them. Hence arose and only from hence a Moral Difference. From this time human actions became the subject of obligation, and not till now. For though instinct felt a difference in actions and Reason discovered that this difference was founded on the nature of things yet it was Will only which could make a compliance with that principle a Duty." Warburton, Div. Leg. Mos. Book I, sect. 4.

The author would specially commend this and the succeeding section of Warburton's celebrated work to the attention of his readers as triumphantly sustaining the conclusions of this Discourse.

"Various are the principles"—says Bishop Van Mildert, "which have been adopted as the basis of morals, by ancient and modern theorists; such as Utility, Expediency, the Fitness of things, the Beauty of Virtue, the Moral Sense or Conscience—Justice, Veracity, the Public Good, and the like; some of which differ from each other rather in name than in substance. But in every system which proposes to establish morality on any other basis than that of the Revealed Will of God there is one fundamental defect that no satisfactory account is given of moral obligation, properly so called. For supposing any of these theories to be sufficiently well founded, the question will still return "why am I obliged to act thus? Why am I obliged to act in conformity with truth, utility, fitness of things or any other criterion which maybe proposed as the test of right or wrong?" To these questions no effectual answer can be given but that it is the will of God; and that if we obey not His Will, we must abide the consequences and suffer the penalties attached to disobedience. This is the sanction, the only sanction which can strictly be said to oblige us to any particular rule of conduct." Boyle Lect. Sermons. Sermon 15: Vol.2nd, p. 86.

"All reasoning on morals presupposes a distinction between inclinations and duties, affections and rules. The former, prompt; the latter, prescribe. The former supply motives to action; the latter regulate and control it. Hence it is evident, if virtue have any just claim to authority, it must be under the latter of these notions; that is, under the character of a law. It is under this notion, in fact, that its dominion has ever been acknowledged to be paramount and supreme. But without the intervention of a superior will it is impossible there should be any moral laws, except in the lax metaphorical sense in which we speak of the laws of matter and motion." Rob. Hall. Serm. on Mod. Infd. Works, vol. 1, p. 22. ]

We are bound or obliged because we are commanded, and that is right which is directed or prescribed by competent authority. And since the highest authority in the universe is that of the Almighty, the will of God is the real foundation of the moral differences of virtue and vice. Their natural differences may be the reason why He enjoins the one and prohibits the other, and may supply to us the probable media of ascertaining His will, but until that will has been made known, some way or other, we are not the subjects of moral obligation. The various theories of virtue which philosophers have proposed, are of no other service than as they enable us to understand, or rather to discover, what has been commanded, or what has been prohibited. The command itself determines our duty. It is the office of the understanding, availing itself of the light of nature, or where it can be had, of the still clearer light of revelation, to ascertain what the will of God sanctions or condemns. When the law has been discovered, there is provision made in another part of our constitution for recognizing it’s authority and enforcing obedience. The rule is no sooner acknowledged by the understanding than a sense of duty is excited in the conscience. Conscience, accordingly, is the distinct recognition of God’s authority, and the sanction of God’s law in the human breast.

It is no objection to this statement that crimes and duties are sometimes confounded and men have felt impelled by their consciences to perpetrate enormities which provoke the vengeance of heaven. The error arises not from the imperfection of conscience; but the weakness of the understanding. It is not the office of conscience to discover, but to sanction; and if the understanding is deluded in receiving as the will of God what, in truth, He condemns, conscience enforces it only on the ground that it is His will. It proceeds upon a false hypothesis, but its decisions would be right if its hypothesis were correct. The sanction would be just, if the law as received by the understanding actually existed. It performs its own function properly, which is not to judge of the reality of the law, but supposing it to exist, to enforce its authority.

If obligation depends ultimately upon the will of God, and conscience is the sanction of that will in our own breasts, the pleasures which we receive from conscious rectitude are anticipations of the favour, and the pangs of remorse are dreadful apprehensions of the vengeance of God. The charms of an approving conscience arise, in other words, from expectations of the Divine benediction and the terrors of guilt from a, "certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation which shall devour" the rebellious. If it were not so, the pleasures and pains arising from our moral nature would have no other peculiarity than that which accrues from their dignity and importance. They would be merely the gratifications of intellectual taste, of the same general character with those of sympathy or abstract contemplation. They would never suggest the idea of a lawgiver and judge—the patron of righteousness and the enemy of sin. We should simply feel that the objects themselves were pleasant or painful—to be courted or avoided as a matter of comfort without dreaming of any higher motive than that which arises from the natural desire of happiness. But we know from our own and the experience of all mankind that there is something peculiar in the operations of conscience, something which distinguishes it in kind as well as in dignity from all other instincts or feelings. The least attention to our moral emotions and the language by which the universal consent of the race has uniformly described them, must convince us that conscience is a prospective principle—that its decisions are by no means final, but only the preludes of a higher sentence to be pronounced by a higher court. It derives all its authority from anticipations of the future. It brings before us the dread tribunal of eternal justice and almighty power,—it summons us to the awful presence of God—it wields His thunder, and wears His smiles. When a man of principle braves calumny, reproach and persecution—when he stands unshaken in the discharge of duty, amid public opposition and private treachery—when no machinations of malice or seductions of flattery can cause him to bend from the path of integrity, that must be a powerful support through which he can bid defiance to the "storms of fate." He must feel that a strong arm is underneath him, and though the eye of sense can perceive nothing in his circumstances but terror, confusion and dismay, he sees his mountain surrounded by "chariots of fire and horses of fire," which sustain his soul in unbroken tranquillity. In the approbation of his conscience, the light of the Divine countenance is lifted up upon him, and he feels the strongest assurance that all things shall work together for his ultimate good. Conscience anticipates the rewards of the just; and in the conviction which it inspires of Divine protection, lays the foundation of heroic fortitude. When, on the contrary, the remembrance of some fatal crime rankles in the breast, the sinner’s dreams are disturbed by invisible ministers of vengeance—the fall of a leaf can strike him with horror—in every shadow he sees a ghost—in every tread he hears an avenger of blood and in every sound the trump of doom. *

[ Footnote 3: "Seeth every man's heart and conscience doth in good or evil, even secretly committed and known to none, but itself, either like or disallow itself, and, accordingly, either rejoice, very nature exulting, as at it were, in certain hope of reward, or else grieve, as it were, in a sense of future punishment, neither of which can, in this case be looked for from any other, saving only from Him who discerneth and judgeth the very secrets of all hearts, therefore He is the only rewarder and revenger of all such actions." Hooker. Eccles. Polity. Book I, chap. ix, see. 2nd. (Keble's Edition.)

"The power of conscience is seen in all men; it is common to all countries—to all religions; to the learned and unlearned; to rich and poor; it is an essential character of a rational mind; and therefore, to man, who is a rational creature, it is natural. When we offend wilfully against our sense of good and evil, conscience never fails to reproach and torment us with the apprehensions of evil and misery to befall us; and though nature has not furnished us with a distinct knowledge of the misery prepared for the wicked, yet natural conscience gives every wicked man a certain expectation of it." Sherlock's Discourses. Dis. 27, Pt. 2d. (Hughes' Edition, vol. 2, p. 69.)

"God and our conscience are like relative terms, it not being imaginable why some persons in some cases should be amazed and troubled in their minds for their having done a secret turpitude or cruelty, but that conscience is present with a message from God, and the men feel inward causes of fear when they are secure from without; that is, they are forced to fear God when they are safe from men. As it is impossible that any man should be an atheist, if he have any conscience; and for this reason it is, there have been so few atheists in the world, because it is so hard for men to lose their conscience wholly." Taylor. Duc. Dub. Rule I. sec. 4. Works. vol. xi, p. 371. Heb. Edit.

"Conscience is nothing but that judgment which men do make, and which they cannot but make, of their moral actions, with reference unto the supreme future judgment of God. Hence the apostle treating of this future judgment, Rom. ii, 12, 16, diverts to shew what evidence all mankind had in the mean time, that such a judgment there should be, ver. 14, 15. And this he declares to consist in their own unavoidable thoughts concerning their own actions, good or evil. This, in the meanwhile, accused them, and forced them to own a judgment to come. Yea I this is the proper language of conscience unto sinners on all occasions. And so effectual was this evidence in the minds of the heathen, that they generally consented into a persuasion; that by one or other, some where or other, a future judgment would be exercised with respect unto things done in this world. Fabulous inventions and traditions, they mixed in abundance with this conviction, as Rom. i. 21, but yet, this made up the principal part of the notions, whereby a reverence for a divine being was preserved in their minds. And those who were wise and sober among them, thought it sufficient to brand a person as impious and wicked, to deny an unseen judgment of men's actions out of this world, wherewith Cato reproached Caesar in the business of Catiline. This sense being that which keeps mankind within some tolerable bounds in sin, the Psalmist prays that it may be increased in them, Ps. xix. 13. See Gen. xx, 11." Owen on Hebrews, chap. vi. vs. 1, 2. Tegg's Edition, vol. 3, p. 190. ]

What is it that invests his conscience with such terrible power to torment? Is there nothing here but the natural operation of simple and original instinct? Who does not see that "wickedness condemned by her own witness and being pressed with conscience, always foribcasteth grievous things;" that the alarm and agitation and fearful forebodings of the sinner arise from the terrors of an offended Judge and insulted lawgiver? An approving conscience is the consciousness of right; of having done what has been commanded, and of being now entitled to the favour of the Judge. Remorse is the sense of ill-desert. The criminal does not feel that his present pangs are his punishment, it is the future, the unknown and portentous future that fills him with consternation. He deserves ill and the dread of receiving it makes, him tremble.

The terms by which the common feelings of mankind have led them to describe conscience, afford no slight confirmation of the views which have here been suggested. According to Bernard, it is "the brightness and splendour of the Eternal Light—a spotless mirror of the Divine majesty and the image of the goodness of God." Tatian declares that it is "God unto us." Jeremy Taylor calls it "God’s substitute; yea, the very image of God." In common language, it is spoken of as a Judge, and as God’s vicegerent; all which expressions denote the full conviction of men that conscience has special and pointed reference to the sanctions of Jehovah’s will. So clear indeed is this connection between conscience and the authority of God, that Tertulian pronounces it to be "God’s witness," and the best and wisest philosophers have not hesitated to assert the absolute impossibility of atheism so long as conscience existed among men. This would be a witness for Jehovah when every other light was extinguished.

If this view of moral obligation be correct, all sense of duty is ultimately founded in religion, and especially in that great principle of it to which all nations have assented, and upon which the laws of society rest for their strongest support—that the guilty shall surely be punished and the just received into favour. The atheist may acknowledge the natural and essential differences of things, but he would leave to virtue no principle of attraction more cogent or resistless than its own charms or its manifest utility in upholding the institutions and promoting the order of society. As his hypothesis removes the lawgiver, virtue itself must cease to be a law demanding obedience upon solemn sanctions, and dwindle down into a mere abstraction which might or might not be regarded according to the dictates of appetite or passion. Conscience, as a prospective principle, anticipating the favour or displeasure of God could not exist. Whatever shadow of it might remain under the withering influence of atheistic principles, would be merely an animal instinct, entitled to no superiority over other propensities of the soul, and not likely to be gratified except at the call of convenience or caprice.

Our present state, upon the hypothesis that death is the destruction of both soul and body, would be no more favourable, although the Being and perfections of God should be admitted, to the interests of virtue than absolute atheism. It would as completely remove the sanction as the scheme of atheism the authority of the law. Conscience, upon this hypothesis, would be a liar and a cheat. It represents God as the patron of righteousness and the inflexible enemy of sin; and hence the sanctions of conscience, having reference as they do to a condition of moral government infinitely more regular and uniform than any which is experienced here, necessarily imply either an extraordinary Providence or a future state of rewards and punishments. A future state is excluded by the terms of the hypothesis—an extraordinary Providence most certainly does not exist. The moral government under which we live is so evidently feeble and imperfect, if regarded as an entire system in itself, that virtue is perhaps more frequently depressed than vice. The complaint of good men in all ages of the world has been that the wicked prosper while they are doomed to reproach, persecution and calamity. *

[ Footnote 4: Saepe mihi dubiam traxit sententia mentern,

Curarent superi terras, an nullus inesset

Rector, et incerto fluerent mortalia casu.

Nam cum dispositi quaesissem faedera mundi,

Praescriptosque mari fines, annisque meatus,

Et lucis noctisque vices; tune omnia rebar

Consilio firmata dei, qui logo moveri

Sidera, qui fruges diverso tempore nasci,

Qui variam Phoebon alieno jusserit igni

Compleri, solemque suo: porrexerit undis

Littora: tellurem medio libraverit axe.

Sed cum res hominum tanta caligine volvi

Adspicerem, Iaetosque diu florere nocentes,

Vexarique pios; rursus labefacta cadebat

Religio.—Claud. in Ruf. Lib. I. 1 sec. ]

If, in fact, we had no other evidence of the moral character of God than that which is afforded by the distributions of pleasure and pain in the present life, we should be at a great loss to determine whether rebellion were not a safer method of securing His favour than obedience to His law. "No man knoweth either love of hatred by all that is before them—all things come alike to all—yea, there is a vanity which, is done upon the earth—that there be just men unto whom it happneth according to the work of the wicked; again there be wicked men to whom it happeneth according to the work of the righteous."

Under these circumstances what becomes of the apprehensions of a guilty, and the smiles of an approving conscience? Is not her testimony for God found to be false and delusive? Does she not deceive with promises of good never to be realized, and torment with threatenings of misery never to be endured? What is she more or less than a liar and a cheat? Such deception could not long exist. The voice of conscience would soon be entirely disregarded, and all sense of moral obligation would just as completely evaporate under this system of fraud and imposture as under the withering curse of atheism; while it would forever remain the profoundest mystery in the universe how a God of infinite perfections should undertake to govern His creatures by gross and flagrant deceit.

Conscience being thus annihilated, there could be no law, and all the happiness which a good man now experiences from virtue, considered as his duty—all his hopes of the Divine favour, would be forever destroyed. Virtue would be intrusted with no rewards but the paltry satisfaction resulting from its pursuit as a matter of taste. In this view would it be the satisfying portion of the soul? Remove from men all obligation to practice it and how many would regard it from the natural relish which they have for its beauty? What would be its charms to the mass of our race? The mournful fact that the solemn sanctions of religion avail so little to check the disorders and curb the enormities of the human heart will afford a sufficient reply. To minds rightly constituted, the result might be different; but our race is in ruins; we have lost, that exquisite sensibility to moral beauty which might quell the clamours of appetite, passion and selfishness and when virtue actually came down in its purest exemplar among us, and set before us a model of most finished perfection, it was without form or comeliness; a root out of dry ground—it had no beauty in it that we should desire it. Those who declaim most eloquently upon the natural attractions of righteousness experience much more satisfaction in the elegance of their efforts than the beauty of their subjects; and while they endeavour to pursuade themselves that they are really the admirers of virtue, they are only paying homage to their own vanity. It was not virtue that rendered the stoic indifferent to the ordinary passions of men—but unconquerable pride. What he absurdly mistook for firmness of principle, was invincible stubbornness, and whatever satisfaction he derived from his stern and repulsive system, was owing to the conviction of superior courage and superior hardihood to the rest of men. Pride was his idol, and with him virtue was simply the fuel which kept his reigning passion in a constant flame. He used it just as other men employ power, riches, honours and fame.

That this view of moral obligation and the unavoidable effects of an atheistic system upon the interests of virtue exposes good men to the imputation of a mercenary spirit, is a groundless objection. Men sometimes talk of the glory of disinterested virtue, as if the blessings which God conferred upon those who please Him were gewgaws and vanity—the pitiful dust and ashes for which the miser squanders his time and loses his soul. The reward which conscience proposes to the righteous, is the favour of God, and if we are to dispise it because it is a reward, let us distincly understand what we disclaim. What then is the favour of God? It consists in rendering us like unto Himself, capable of admiring, praising and, rejoicing, in all His glorious perfections—of sympathising in His ineffable blessedness, and of feeling that we are what He approves. It is, in other words, the highest perfection of which our nature is susceptible. Instead of being doomed to contemplate abstractions, and amuse ourselves with pictures, we are introduced to the friendship of a Person whose nature is glorious, and whose smile assimilates all on whom it falls to His own character. None can enjoy the light of His countenance but those who are endowed with the finest sensibility to moral excellence. What is there selfish, mean or sordid in desiring a reward which consists in purity, holiness and peace—which exalts and adorns our nature with every grace, enriches it with every moral accomplishment?

If desire to escape from every pollution and be rendered partakers of the Divine nature; the desire of communion and friendly intercourse with the Father of our spirits; the desire of all moral perfection—If this be mercenary, then indeed virtue is a mercenary matter; but if this be a noble and sublime desire, such as sordid spirits can never reach, then virtue is as glorious in the rewards she proposes as she is in her own nature; and none but a generous spirit, instinct with living fire, touched with a coal from off God’s altar can ever rise to such a pitch of excellence as to desire that "favour which is life, and that loving kindness which is better than life." *

[ Footnote 5: "Whatever some philosophic declaimers may have advanced respecting the meanness and servility of looking to a I ‘recompense of reward’ for our actions; it is unnatural and irrational not to act on such a principle, unless it can be proved that God, when He had created man, left him to follow his own imaginations, and to seek for other motives and obligations to virtue than those of the fear and love of Him and of obedience to his command." Van Mildert. Boyle Lect. Serm. 15th, vol. 2, p. 89.

It is not the bare fact of being influenced by considerations of reward, that constitutes a mercenary spirit; it is the nature of the reward that is sought. He who places his happiness in promoting the well-being of others cannot justly be denominated selfish, and he who loves virtue or holiness because it is the image of God and the means of communion with Him, cannot be regarded as servile or mean. These motives neither spring from nor terminate on self, no more are they debased or grovelling in their own nature. They who insist upon the love of virtue for its beauty, and the hatred of vice for its turpitude, make the beauty of virtue and the turpitude of vice occupy the same place which the Scriptures attributes to the love and the fear of God. In the one case, instead of a person, we are presented with an abstraction: our affections are made to terminate on a lifeless statue, whose beauty is devoid of the attractions of intellectual animation. The view which his been taken in the text, does not separate virtue from God—It makes the Divine Perfections its measure—the nature of God its standard, and the will of God, as proceeding from His perfections, its rules. So that the charms of virtue are really the charms of the Almighty, and its highest enjoyments the mutual converse of mind with mind—the delights, in other words, of the purest friendship. Hence the rewards of virtue cannot be separated from itself, no more than the favor of God can be separated from communications of His goodness. We cannot love God without enjoying Him. The author regrets that he has not space to pursue this subject further, and expose the numerous fallacies which must arise from every effort to treat of virtue as having any other ultimate foundation than the Divine Perfections. This is the true basis of immutable morality. The error of Clarke and Cudworth consists in making the nature and fitness of things independent of God. This fallacy is ably exposed by Van Mildert, who, however, falls into an error just as preposterous in making all moral distinctions purely arbitrary. At least his reasonings maybe so abused. The system of Paley is unmitigated selfishness. He has completely reversed the order of things—making virtue right because it is useful, instead of useful because it is right. In its abstract principles, Paley's system, though he was a Christian Minister, is not a particle better than the infamous schemes of Mandeville and Hume.

How desirable it is that some able hand should give us a system of morals which does not outrage Christianity nor deny the Supremacy of God ! ]

It may be objected, however, that the threatenings of God’s law are calculated to engender a weak and servile spirit. This may be freely acknowledged. He is not a virtuous man who is restrained from transgression only by the fear of punishment. He has not the first principle of true obedience—respect for the law, as the will of God. But these threatenings were never intended to make men virtuous, but only to keep them so. They show God’s awful abhorrence of sin, and reveal to good men, in a strong and commanding light, the enormous turpitude of disobedience and rebellion. They strengthen their attachment to holiness by revealing, in a new aspect, the exceeding sinfulness of sin. In a fallen world, like ours, these threatenings can only restrain, terrify and alarm. They have no power to change the heart and render him pure who was previously defiled. All that they can contribute towards our moral renovation is to drive us to Christ, the great physician of souls, from whom we can receive a I new spirit and be created again "after the image of God, in knowledge, righteousness and true holiness." But a generous virtue never grew upon the soil of fear. Its native element is love, and where this exists in its purity and power, the blessing and the curse are both valuable in spurring it onward to exalted attainments. One holds out the promised good, and the other throws a brighter lustre around it from the terrible contrast which sin presents.

To divest a good man, if a good man, under such circumstances, could exist, of the assurance which the perfections of God impress upon his mind, that virtue shall ultimately triumph, and vice be suppressed, would be to turn his attachment to virtue into an instrument of sorrow. His regard for the character of his Maker, for the interests of society, and the highest enjoyments

of his own soul, would fill him with horror and amazement at the prospect of eternal confusion, in that moral government which conscience taught him to expect would one day be perfect. If, in this life only, the virtuous had hope, they would of all men be most miserable. Completely disappointed in all their prospects, led on by gross delusions which they took to be the voice of God, they have forfeited, all the enjoyments of this world, which men, wiser in their generation, have secured, and they have gained nothing but darkness, confusion and despair. They have pursued phantoms; their whole life has been spent in beating the air; in chasing an ignis-fatuus* [ Footnote 6 : Foolish, silly or idiotic passion, Ed. ] through swamps and quags and bogs, and the fatigue, of abortive labours is the highest reward of their zeal. Virtue derives its glory and blessedness from its connection with God—from the prospects it discloses of enjoying His favour, sharing His friendship and receiving unspeakable effusions, of bliss from the light of His countenance. It shines with a borrowed radiance, and if it conduct us not to the throne of the Eternal, those rivers of pleasure which are at His right hand, it has only mocked, cheated and betrayed us. Chain it down to this life, and like the eagle, clipped of its wings, its power of gazing on the sun while unable to soar to that region of light would be a source of vexation. It would be better, like the owls and bats of the world, to have a spirit congenial with darkness, if darkness must be our portion, than to know a better state and nobler destiny which the stern decree of fate has rendered impossible to us. It would be better, infinitely better, if we can rise to no higher ends than the brutes, to be like them the creatures of instinct, devoid of foresight and thought. Reason is a curse, or if it be esteemed an ornament, it is only the garland which adorns the victim for sacrifice. The more we are exalted by noble endowments, the more conspicuous is our fall—the deeper our vanity and vexation of spirit.

Why, then, was such a being as man created it all? If knowledge and virtue, the most glorious objects of human contemplation and regard—the only things on earth at all congenial with his nature—are so far from being his adequate portion in this life, that they only increase his vexations and sorrows, why was he ever made and adorned with these goodly perfections? Why has he been rendered capable of immortality, prone to "Ponder the future with anxious rumination," if he is yet the insect of a day, hardly permitted to open his eyes upon this beautiful world, before he must close them in eternal night? Why his burning curiosity, if in his highest attainments of knowledge, he just reaches the point from which the great ocean of truth lies undiscovered before him, and is then swept away by the tide of oblivion, and buried in darkness forever? Why has he been endowed with a power to hear the voice, to sanction the law of God, and to long for communion with his Maker, if, before he can send an aspiration to Heaven, he is turned to corruption and made a companion of worms? Why has he been placed in so fair and splendid a palace, garnished by the finger of God, and adorned with goodly and enchanting prospects, if he has hardly time to survey its glories and recount its wonders before they fade forever from his view? Who shall solve this amazing riddle, reduce to harmony these gross inconsistencies and shew us an end for which man was made that shall redeem his condition from the charge of vanity?

I call upon the Atheist; but to him the "mighty volumes of visible nature and the everlasting tables of right reason" are sealed books; he sees nothing in the magnificent canopy of heaven but the jumbling motions of chance, and though every star declares the glory, and every revolving world proclaims the power of God, their voice can never reach his dark and cheerless soul. How can he, who has not blushed to be a traitor to his God; whose native element is darkness; who rejoices in the prospect of a "fatherless world;" how can he be inflamed with a generous zeal for the honor of his race, or be ashamed to answer that man was made in vain?

I call upon the mortal Deist,—upon him who admits the perfections of Jehovah, but denies the immortality of the soul,—I charge him to tell me for what end, consistent with the character of God and the dignity of man, such a creature was made? Where are the marks of infinite wisdom and infinite goodness? Alas, all is confusion and mystery; a cloud of darkness rests upon the world; a charge of folly and deceit upon our Maker, and eternal despair upon the race of man. The mortal Deist cannot avoid the monstrous conclusion that we are only animals, exalted above the rest to be pre-eminent in misery. We can rise no higher than to like live [i.e. live like] swine without the possibility of relishing their husks, and die like dogs without the comfort of unreflecting stupidity. Oh, this creed is cruel; and as its miserable victim reluctantly mutters—for his pretended regard for God, prevents him from openly declaring—that man was made in vain, Heaven above should denounce him for his slanders on its wisdom and love, and the whole family of man, moved with a just indigtion at the foul reproach cast upon their dignity and worth, should rise up against him and pronounce him cursed.

I call upon the immortal Deist, upon him who admits that man’s birthright is immortality; but while his bosom endeavours to swell with some just conceptions, of the value of the soul, he knows not what shall be its ultimate state. The unknown future may present a scene of moral administration so perfect and complete that no allowance shall be made for sin—no hope permitted to the sinner. It may realize all that conscience has dreaded of awful justice clothed with invincible power. What then shall become of man ? "Wherewith shall he appear before the Lord, and bow himself before the most high God? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams or ten thousands of rivers of oil; shall he give his first-born for his transgression, the fruit of his body for the sin of his soul?" Can there be any hope for the guilty, or must he pass from the miseries of life to the deeper sufferings of an unknown world? What is his prospect? Alas, to those who have no other light but reason, the issues of death are involved in tremendous uncertainty—the invisible world casts a portentous frown upon the hopes of mankind, and the Deist, with all his boasted philosophy, is yet compelled, from the ominous presages of conscience, to acknowledge his fear that man so far as his own happiness is concerned has been worse than made in vain.

But, my hearers, shall we, for a moment, entertain the dark and comfortless conclusion that man was made in vain. Shall we thus insult the wisdom of God and betray the dignity of our own nature? Can we believe that reason, conscience and will, the capacity of immortal life, and earnest longings for a perfect good have all been imparted for no valuable end? No, my friends, so fair a fabrick, as man presents, was never constructed only to be destroyed. The, lord of this lower world was never called into being just to "fret and strut an hour upon the stage, and then be seen no more." The perfections of God and the capacities of man combine to declare that the dark cloud of mortality which now overhangs the whole human race conceals a destiny which it is not unworthy of God to bestow, and which it is man’s highest interest to understand. He must be immortal: "there is a stage within the veil" which shall never be taken down, on which he can act a nobler part and accomplish far higher purposes than flesh and blood can attain. But the hand of reason is unable to draw aside the curtain which conceals futurity from view. To apprehend distinctly the end of our being, our prospects hereafter, and our chief business here, as possessors of immortality, we must appeal to that "eternal word which subsists from generation to generation, in undecaying vigour, to console our wretchedness," and which, in

revealing things, that "eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive," completely dissipates the vanity of our mortal condition, vindicates the ways of God to man, and impresses a dignity, a moral graudeur upon the human race at which reason is amazed and faith rejoices with awful veneration.

It is the distinguishing glory of the Gospel, not merely to bring immortality to light, which it does in a striking manner, rendering it almost palpable to sense by the mysterious doctrine of the resurrection of the dead, but to make it a real blessing when it might be our greatest calamity, by connecting with it the prospect of life. Perpetual existence, without corresponding sources of enjoyment, would be a boon which few are so attached to their "intellectual being" as not to be willing to abandon. If we were created unsusceptible of a good which eternity is unable to exhaust, continued existence is only continued vanity, and immortality, so far from solving the mystery of our state, plunges it in deeper obscurity. But the life of the Scriptures removes all difficulties. Consisting in assimilation to the character of God, the contemplation of His glory and the immediate vision of His face, it has justly been compared to rivers of pleasure which flow with eternal freshness, and is certainly an end for which it was worthy of infinite wisdom to form us, and which it becomes infinite goodness to bestow. Here, instead of the beggarly elements of this world, are all the ingredients which our necessities require, to render us perfectly and permanently happy. Whatever is beautiful or attractive in the creature; whatever can adorn, dignify or please; the embellishments of life, and the charms of friendship, are but feeble emanations from Him who concentrates in Himself all these scattered perfections, and to whom they essentially belong in unchanging and infinite proportions. As he combines, in the fulness of His own being, all the sources of enjoyment which men vainly seek to acquire from a distracting variety of objects, and is possessed of a power to communicate delight, which the most enlarged capacities of man shall never be able to transcend, the consciousness of His favour must be distinguished by the rare felicity of imparting stability and peace to the restless desires of the mind. He is a good suited to the nature of man; and while He reigns supreme in the affections every other object will sink down to its proper position of subordinate importance. The sense of His love like a magic wand, diffuses life, joy and liberty through all the powers of the soul. "Those thoughts which wander through eternity," in contemplating His perfections, require none of "those delightful intermissions" by which, in this world, the severity of effort is relieved. There it is activity without labor—"‘it is but opening the eye, and the scene enters." *

[ Footnote 7: The following description which South gives of man’s understanding in innocency may apply to the future condition of the blessed:

"It was then sublime, clear and aspiring, and, as it were, the soul’s upper region, lofty and serene, free from the vapours and disturbances of the inferior affections. Discourse was then almost as quick as intuition; it was nimble in proposing; firm in concluding; it could sooner determine than now it can dispute. Like the sun, it had both light and agility; it knew no rest but in motion—no quiet but in activity. It did not so properly apprehend as irradiate the object; not so much find as make things intelligible. In sum, it was vegete, quick and lively; open as the day, untainted as the morning, full of the innocence and sprightliness of youth; it gave the soul a bright and a full view into all things; and was not only a window, but itself the prospect. ***Study was not then a duty; night watchings were needless—the light of reason wanted not the assistance of a candle. This is the doom of fallen man, to labour in the fire, to seek truth in profundo, to exhaust his time and impair his health, and perhaps to spin out his days and himself into one pitiful, controverted conclusion. There was then no poring, no struggling with memory, no straining for invention; his faculties were quick and expedite; they answered without knocking, they were ready upon the first summons, there was freedom and firmness in all their operations, Works, vol. I. pp. 35, 37. See Gen. I. 27. ]

In our sublunary state we perceive only, as the Prophet expresses it, "the appearance of the likeness of the glory of, the Lord." He hides himself for the most part behind His visible creation, and even in the sanctuary, where His spirit dwells, we approach Him in symbols and ordinances, and our richest enjoyments are only an earnest of what we may expect. But in the eternal world, where the portion of the just is treasured, He sits unveiled before His saints in ineffable splendour; they are permitted to see Him as He is; to know as they are known; to behold His glory, and being transformed into the same image, they are satisfied with His likeness. The renewed spirit, naturally tending towards God, finds its culminating point only in His presence. There is its rest. The imperfect foretastes which, in their pilgrimage through life, good men have experienced of the light of His countenance, have impressed a longing for the vision of His face, which renders them dead to the charms of earth, and urges them forward, despite persecution, scorn and contempt, to the mark of the prize, of their high calling. "Whom have I"—is the language of their hearts—"whom have I in Heaven but Thee, and there is none upon earth that I desire beside Thee. My flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." He is their fountain of life, joy and blessedness—He is all their salvation and all their desire; and to deprive them of their hopes of beholding His face in peace would be to cover the sun with sack-cloth and the moon with darkness; to shroud the earth and the sky in mourning; to hang the pall of death upon the fabrick of nature and involve the universe itself in starless night.

The contemplation, vision and fruition of God! What end comparable to this can skeptics, in their purest systems, suggest to man? Accustomed to contemplate God at an awful and immeasurable distance from His creatures, they can present us with nothing but those shadows of felicity found in objects as finite as ourselves. Their dismal creed, excluding that amazing condescension of goodness by which the Deity becomes conversable with man, can never rise to the sublime conception of an eternal and intimate alliance with the Father of Spirits. They dare not undertake to pierce the clouds which surround His throne and unveil the great Creator as a God of love. Their eternity, since there is nothing in death to change the nature of the soul, must be a round of the same abortive efforts, the same fruitless employments, the same empty speculations which impress upon time its vanity and vexation; and if a few years devoted to these pursuits have induced the wisest men, who knew not God or who could approach no nearer to His seat than His works conduct them, to sigh in bitterness for the moment of departure, what must be the intolerable burden of an endless duration! However varied the objects of immortal pursuit may be, they are still finite, unsuited to immortal capacities, and contain the elements of dissatisfaction and disgust. It is not the possession of eternity, but the fruition of the God of eternity, that constitutes happiness, and stamps true glory upon man. Deserts, however vast and boundless, add nothing to the wealth of kingdoms, or the grandeur of empire. The most gorgeous scenes which imagination can picture,—thrones, principalities and powers, the possession of the entire universe itself, without corresponding fellowship with God, would leave the soul lonely and desolate; it would turn away from them all in chagrin, disappointment and disgust, and complain, in the bitterness of its anguish: these are but dust and ashes, show me the Father or let me die.

We were made, my brethren, for the enjoyment of God; it is our unspeakable felicity that the great and everlasting Jehovah, whom the Heaven of Heavens cannot contain, should stoop to converse familiarly with man. Settle it in your minds, write it on your hearts, engrave it on your lives, that the friendship and love of this august and venerable Being Is the true portion of the soul.

It is a mournful fact, however, that man, unlike all other creatures, has no natural tendency to achieve the perfection of his nature. So glaring indeed is the incongruity between his affections and desires, and the chief end of his being, that no course will more certainly be succeeded by disappointment, calamity and sorrow, than to pursue the inclinations of his mind. This gross inconsistency cannot justly be attributed to God. The soul, as it came from Him, must have pointed to its proper destiny as the needle points to the pole; and if He originally made men upright and they have perverted their ways, His wisdom would be untarnished though all the tribes of earth should perish beneath His frown. The Scriptures distinctly teach us, in accordance with these suggestions, that man has existed in another state—a condition of purity and peace, when the candle of the Lord shone brightly upon him, and all his powers were adjusted in unison with the will of God. By the curse, however, of a memorable transgression—the one disobedience of the one man, who stood as the federal representative of the human race—his primitive relations were changed; his nature was involved in ruins; the light of heaven

was withdrawn, and death, with all our woe, took possession of the world.

The incompetency of man, as a sinner, to pursue the end of his being, arises from the justice of God, which has inseparably connected punishment with guilt, and from his own moral incapacity to enjoy the communications of Divine love. He has lost both the right and the power of communion with God. Separated from the fountain of life and blessedness, disqualified by sin to accomplish the purposes for which he was made; dark, stupid and senseless in relation to spiritual good, he is, in the solemn language of Scripture, dead, but through the amazing mercy of God, though dead, he is not irretrievably lost. His relations to a scheme of grace, devised in the councils of eternity, and accomplished in the fulness of time, render him, though a prisoner, "a prisoner of hope." The sentence of death, it is true, is upon him; the chains of sin and the fetters of hell hold him in bondage—but still there is hope; there is a glorious prospect of escape; "the prey may be taken from the mighty, and the lawful captive be delivered." The provisions of the Gospel, contemplating the restoration of man to more than the glory that his rebellion had forfeited, are precisely adapted to his exigencies. By the incarnation, substitution, and obedience even unto death of the Eternal Son of God, the second Person of the adorable Trinity, the legal barrier has been removed; the claims of justice have been satisfied, and "God can be just, and yet the justifier of him that believes upon Jesus." By the mission of the Holy Spirit, the Third Person of the Godhead, the ruins of the soul may be repaired; light may be poured into its darkened chambers; the fires again kindled upon its altars; it may be made "to move in charity, rest in providence and turn upon the poles of truth."—The unchangeable decree of God,—unchangeable, because it cannot be reversed without subjecting His government to imperfection, confusion and disorder,—that His favour shall be confined to the righteous and His malediction denounced upon the wicked; that obedience, in other words, shall be the condition of His blessing, and disobedience infallibly draw down His curse, has been fully accomplished in the Gospel. And yet through the principle of representation, which seems to be ultimate in the moral government of God, incapable of farther explanation, because it is ultimate and acknowledged as clearly in the civil institutions of society as in the higher economy of Heaven, the guilty may not only receive a complete exemption from the penalty due to their transgressions, but a valid title to everlasting life; This is a great mystery, but it is the mystery of grace. In consequence of the representative relations of the Lord Jesus Christ, those who believe on His name are so effectually united to His Person, that His righteousness and death are regarded as their own—they become members of His mystical body, sharing in His honours, enjoying His protection and entitled to all the rewards which His obedience can secure. He is their Patron in the Court of Heaven; and the blessings which God bestows upon the faithful are proportioned not to their infirmity and nothingness, but to the dignity and worth of His Own dear Son. Thus through "the obedience of one," all legal obstructions to their happiness are removed, as through "the disobedience of one," they became involved in a state of sin and death. But as they are unfit by nature to appreciate the blessings to which the righteousness of the Saviour gives them a title, they are placed under the guidance and tuition of that Eternal Spirit whom they receive from Him, and whose office it is to sanctify the heart. In His hands the confusion, disorder and calamity which sin has introduced into the world, are divested of their sting, and become the elements of a secret discipline, by which, their affections are weaned from vanities and fixed on the solid riches of eternity. The whole earth is changed into a school of godliness, and a nursery for Heaven; through the powerful elixir of grace, blessings are extracted from the ills of life; death, no longer a terror, becomes a birth into glory; and, in the triumphant language of the Apostle, "all things, whether height or depth or any other creature," are made subservient to their good. Hence the provisions of the Gospel are complete, and all things are ready for the salvation of the lost. The magnificent feast is spread; the "Spirit and the bride say come;" he that hears is commissioned to repeat the invitation, and all our dying race are freely invited to approach the table with confidence and hope.

Under these circumstances, the reception of the Gospel becomes the grand and paramount concern of men. It is indeed "glad tidings of great joy," and blessed are the eyes that perceive its glory, and the ears that welcome its joyful sound! It is the only object in our world which invests it with dignity and importance in the view of superior spirits; whatever interest they feel in man, or whatever solicitude attaches to his condition, is derived from the tremendous consequences which hang on the improvement or neglect of his day of merciful visitation. Those events which, in our eyes, are possessed of the greatest magnitude, are not the objects which attract their attention. In the extension of commerce, the progress of refinement and the splendour of the arts; in the rise of states, the prosperity of kingdoms and the triumphs of freedom, they see nothing apart from the wise and inscrutable purposes of God, but the shifting scenes of a stage which must soon be taken down, when every memorial of its existence shall perish. But in the repentance of a single sinner they discern an event clothed with every attribute of dignity and importance—an event whose results can be unfolded in no narrower compass than eternal duration—whose consequences shall continue to expand in magnitude, when kingdoms and empires shall cease to be; when crowns and sceptres shall lie as neglected things, and "when the great globe itself, with all that it inherits, shall dissolve" and perish. And, my brethren, if we could stand with these heavenly Spirits upon the mount of God, from which events are surveyed in their just proportions and real value; if we could comprehend with them the immeasurable blessedness of which the soul is susceptible, and the unutterable misery to which it may be doomed, the interests of time which now fill so large a space in our eyes would sink into comparative insignificance, and the business of salvation become the grand, commanding, absorbing pursuit of man. We should regard our mortal condition, evanescent as it is, with intenser anxiety on account of its shortness; it would even swell into grandeur, considered as the price of eternal blessedness, the stage on which we are acting a part that must fix the fate of immortality. In the short, compass of our earthly career, we must settle a question whose issues, lost in the unfathomable depths of eternity, defy the power of finite capacities to trace. In the days of our flesh, before the night of death has overtaken us, while the joyful sound is still permitted to salute our ears, the point must be settled, finally, irreversibly settled, whether we shall be numbered among the saved or lost. Every passing hour is big with the destiny of souls. To neglect the Gospel is not only to lose the favour of God, the communications of His goodness, the abiding conviction of His friendship and love; it is not merely to be excluded from the light, joy and blessedness of Heaven,—though, this were an intolerable calamity; it is not a "bare privation of that bliss which man was originally designed to experience" and in which he finds the perfection of his being—it is to be "shut up in outer darkness" where "hope that comes to all, shall never come; to be tormented with dolorous perceptions;" to drink the wrath, of God; to feel the fire that is never quenched; the worm that never dies. Other losses can be repaired by prudence, industry and care, or the impressions which they make may soon be effaced by the hand of time; but the loss of the soul is irretrievable, eternal; no place shall be found for repentance, though it be sought bitterly and with tears. When the spoiler shall suddenly come upon us, all that will be left to us will be to gird ourselves with sack-cloth—to retire apart and make a grievous mourning, like the mourning of Hadadrimmon in the valley of Megiddon.

Though the wickedness of slighting the claims of the Gospel is, under all circumstances, enormous and complicated, the folly would not be so great if, after this life, we could still be indulged with the privilege of retracing our steps and securing the salvation which we need. But when we are assured upon authority which cannot be mistaken, that in the grave, whither we are going there is no work nor knowledge, no wisdom nor device; that the condition in which we are left at death must be the condition in which we enter on eternity: "he that is filthy, being filthy still;" that then our destiny shall be unalterably fixed, the voice of the preacher shall be silenced forever, and the accents of mercy no longer allowed to fall upon the ear; when we know from the records of infallible truth that the unchanging interests of immortality are compressed in our short career upon earth; that "now is the accepted time, now the day of salvation;" that now the

prize of life must be secured, or the soul sink down under the second death; which hanging like a dark cloud upon its prospects, no light can penetrate; which gathering blackness from its groans, forever mocks its despair; when we remember the overwhelming results that depend on the complexion of our present state, where shall we find the language that is fitted to describe the stupendous madness—the worse than maniac distraction which has seized upon those who neglect the great salvation? It is enough, to put a tongue in inanimate nature around us; "to make the stone cry out of the wall and the beam out of the timber to answer it."

The prodigious and almost incredible contrast between the littleness and meanness of man without the hopes of the Gospel, and the moral grandeur which surrounds him when viewed in the light of revelation should render Christianity an object of more than magnetic attraction. The union of his nature to the person of the Son; his peculiar relations to the Holy Spirit, exalt him to a familiarity of communion with God, a freedom of access to the throne of the Most High, which is, perhaps, unexampled in the annals of the universe. It would seem from some obscure intimations of the Sacred Writers that, in some way or other, the redeemed shall set with their Saviour at the great day in judgment upon angels. God, Himself, indulges such unwonted delight in the persons of His children, that He even describes them as His chosen portion—the lot of His own inheritance. It is certain that the plan of redemption, which has special, and in its immediate effects, exclusive reference to man, has developed features in the Divine character to which the angels were previously strangers, and into which they earnestly desire to look. The existence of mercy, and its harmony with justice, could never have been known without some such economy as that of the Gospel. The glory of God consequently shines with a richer lustre in the cross of Christ, than in all the works of His hands. If it be lawful to indulge such a thought, we might naturally suppose that fresh accessions were made to the blessedness of Heaven when our Saviour rose triumphant from the grave. So astonishing was the display of God’s manifold riches of wisdom, goodness and mercy; so trancendently glorious the manifestation of His character in the new and marvellous relation of a "Redeemer mighty to save," that the moral stature of the angels, in contemplating this august spectacle, must have been increased, and their joys proportionably enlarged. The fact that the salvation of man redounds so preeminently to the glory of God—laying the Divine wisdom under tribute to devise the means by which he might be rescued "from going down to the pit"—must give him a position, must throw a charm around him in every portion of the universe to which his own character could make no pretensions. So conspicuous indeed is the station, and so distinguished the privileges so which we are exalted by the economy of grace, that one may be pardoned for exulting in the honour of being a man. Our race, contemplated in the cross of Christ, shines with a borrowed lustre. The beams of His glory are reflected upon it and render it an object of trembling solicitude; while those who are wise and improve the day of their merciful visitation are enchanting to angels and beautiful to God. The happiness which accrues from this unparalleled accession of dignity, must be proportionably great. The angels behold God’s face as a benevolent Creator, and are blessed in the Vision; we behold Him as a merciful Redeemer, and our feelings are rapture. They perceive the glory of the Son and admire its brightness; we feel the genial warmth of his rays. The Lamb in the midst of the throne is to them an object of profound veneration and adoring wonder; to us He is an elder brother, a kinsman-Redeemer, and is not ashamed to acknowledge the alliance. We must approach nearer to God’s seat than they; we must come into closer contact with the beams of His face; our own nature is exalted on the throne; our head is there, and the immediate members must have a preference of all other objects. In addition to this, we have all the joy of an amazing contrast. Heaven is new to us; we were recently dead and are now alive; recently lost and are now found; recently on the borders of Hell and now before the throne of God.

It would seem that on all these accounts Heaven should be peculiarly attractive to men. Its richest treasures have been expended upon them—for them its mercy has been revealed—for them its wisdom has been tasked—for them its power has been employed—for them the mysteries of God have been disclosed—for them all the inhabitants of the upper world have been deeply concerned. The Father has loved them—the Son has redeemed them—the Spirit renewed them—the Angels rejoiced over them, and ministered to them in their manifold necessities. Oh, what is man as displayed in the Gospel! Every motive of generous ambition combines with a regard to our highest interest to press upon us the claims of religion. To stand as a monument of God’s grace, when the heavens which declare His glory and the firmament which showeth His handiwork shall have passed away—to proclaim the unsearchable riches of His wisdom, when the wheels of time shall have ceased to move and all its events be buried in oblivion—to stand around His throne and receive communications of His love, to which more excellent spirits are strangers—to be His chosen portion and the lot of His inheritance—to draw the eyes of the universe to ourselves as the most stupendous workmanship of God—a work upon which He may rest the honour of His name; this is a distinction which may well stimulate our efforts and kindle our warmest aspirations. And yet this honour have all the saints! This is the privilege of all who obey the Gospel of God. What must be the deplorable blindness of men, when such prospects cannot charm; what the depths of their debasement, when such magnificent preferments can awaken no desire! "Be astonished, oh, ye heavens, at this, and be horribly afraid; be ye very desolate saith the Lord."

That those who despise the provisions of the Gospel may expect an aggravated doom, is consistent alike with the teaching of revelation, the dictates of reason and the analogies of providence. The violence of the fall is always proportioned to the previous elevation; and darkness is increased in intensity by a sudden transition from a blaze of light. Peculiar privileges necessarily give rise to peculiar responsibilities. The curse consequently which they shall experience who have enjoyed and neglected the glad tidings of salvation, must be awful beyond the power of language to describe, or finite capacities to conceive. Our Saviour declares that it should be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon, yea, even for the land of Sodom, in the day of judgment, than the cities in which his mighty works had been performed. "The men of Nineveh," says he, "shall rise up against this generation and condemn it, because they repented at the preaching of Jonas, and, behold, a greater than Jonas is here. The queen of the South shall rise up in judgment with this generation and shall condemn it, for she came from the uttermost parts of the earth to bear the wisdom of Solomon, and, behold, a greater than Solomon is here." The severity of God in punishing sinners will be proportioned to the mercy of His previous dispensations, and accordingly the most awful maledictions are every where denounced against those who have been signally favoured with opportunities of knowledge and means of repentance. This history of the world does not furnish a parallel to the destruction of Jerusalem; the blood freezes and the flesh creeps at the recital of its horrors, and we are almost tempted to ask how a merciful God could permit such enormities to be perpetrated beneath the light of the sun. But when we turn to the Scriptures, and look at the true explanation, it was God’s hand that poured out the vials of vengeance, and put the cup of trembling to the lips of this devoted people, because they had disregarded the day of their mercy. They had crucified the Lord of glory, and now they must reap their own folly and "be filled with their own devices." In the history of that infatuated city we have only a type, a dim shadow of what every impenitent sinner must experience, when God shall rise in the majesty of justice, "whet His glittering sword and His hand take hold on judgment." Then, indeed, "He shall revenge and be furious. The mountains," we are told by the prophet, "shall quake, the hills melt, and the earth be burned at His presence yea; the world and all that dwell therein." Who can stand before His indignation? Who can abide in the fierceness of His anger? None, moreover, can deliver out of His hand. "There is no darkness nor shadow of death where the workers of iniquity may hide themselves. If they exalt themselves with the eagle and set their nest among the stars, thence will He bring them down; if they take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall His hand reach them, and His right hand shall hold them; if they flee to the darkness for protection, even the night shall be light about them." To heighten their calamity, to consummate their wretchedness, while they are tortured with penal visitations from without, there are fires within, kindled from the elements of the soul itself, which would make it a privilege to die. The recollections of the sinner, his wasted opportunities, his neglected mercies, his slighted warnings, his repulses of the Spirit, his distinguished privileges and solemn vows, will all rise up against him like the ghosts of the murdered, to make his conscience a hell. His maddened spirit shall perceive nothing in the Gospel itself, which was once the herald of salvation and an angel of mercy, but the prophet’s roll written within and without, full of lamentation, mourning and woe, as the apocalyptic vials poured out upon the earth, the waters, the air and the sun transmuted these elements of comfort and happiness, into instruments of death. "Righteous art thou, oh Lord, in thy judgments! They have shed blood," even the blood of their own souls, "and thou hast given them blood to drink."

As if there were no limits to the folly, presumption and wickedness of man, there are those who glory in their shame and treat as a childish weakness all serious apprehensions of the wrath to come. "Oh, my soul, come not thou into their secret; unto their assembly, mine honour, be not thou united." Not a single ingredient can be detected in the character of these sons of Belial to redeem it from disgrace, infamy and horror. It is a loathsome combination of diabolical atrocity and brutal stupidity. Their hardihood of front possesses no element of courage; it is not the firmness of moral daring; nor even the stern resolution of despair; it is based upon no principle of reason, philosophy or Scripture; it aims at no illustrious ends; it is the enormity of human guilt, obstinately bent on indulgence, rising up in rebellion against the authority of conscience and lifting its parricidal arm to heaven to extinguish the last light that witnesses its crimes. If there be a Being whose prerogative it is to lift His hand to heaven and say I live forever, it is surely the dictate of reason as well as of revelation to fear Him. Shall mortal man, a child of yesterday, whose father is corruption and whose mother is the worm; shall mortal man "set his mouth against the heavens and utter great, swelling words of vanity" before Him Whom eternal truth has described as the "great, the mighty and the terrible God, who sitteth on the circle of the earth, and, the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers; before whom the nations are counted as the small dust of the balance, and who taketh up the isles as a very little thing!" It is easy to assume the attitude or courage when danger is supposed to be distant. When the sky is serene above us, the earth smiles with tranquillity and plenty, and all things continue as they were when the fathers fell asleep, we may easily persuade ourselves that all is well; that "the Lord delayeth his coming," and that all his threatenings are but idle words. But when his sign shall be actually revealed in the heavens; when "the mighty angel shall stand upon the sea and the land, and swear by Him that liveth forever, that time shall be no longer, whose hearts shall then endure, whose hands shall then be strong? Who will speak loftily when the earth shall be torn with irresistible convulsions; when "the sun shall become black as sack-cloth of hair and the moon be turned into blood; the stars of heaven fall "to the ground and the heavens themselves depart away as a scroll?" Who will "boast themselves in wickedness when all the dead, both small and great," shall be summoned to the tribunal of eternal justice to receive their everlasting awards? In that day, my brethren, the knees or the strong shall bow, the sinews of brass shall be broken and the face that was harder than a rock shall gather mortal paleness. Those who have mocked at the terrors of the Lord, will then "call in vain upon the rocks and, mountains to fall upon them and hide them from the face of him that sitteth on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb forever." Now "their judgment lingereth not and their damnation slumbereth not;" now they feel that God is terrible, and as they depart into everlasting banishment from His presence, "hell from benealh rises to meet them at their coming." "Surely thou didst set them in slippery places, thou castedst them down into destruction. How are they brought into desolation as in a moment? They are utterly consumed with terrors. As a dream when one awaketh, so, Oh Lord, when thou awakest, thou shall despise their image."

If, my brethren, we have not been indulging in idle speculations, nor following a cunningly devised fables but impressing upon you the true sayings of God, you must perceive that the Gospel is fraught with unspeakable interest to you. It sets before you life and death it proposes to redeem you from the vanity, of your mortal state; to break the bondage of corruption, and restore you to the light and liberty of the Sons of God. You call never attain the primitive dignity of your nature, much less that far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory which is reserved for the faithful, without the guidance of its principles, the strength of its promises and the consolations of its grace. With it your condition is noble and illustrious; you are the friends of God, the companions of angels and the brethren of Christ; without it, you are mean and despicable; the enemies of heaven; the children of darkness, and the victims of despair. Why, then, do you not avail yourselves of its precious provisions to prepare for death, for judgment, and eternity? What potent charm, what Circean bowl, what terrible enchantment of hell has maddened your souls, blinded your eyes, and stupified hearts, that you cannot break the spell and awake to righteousness and life everlasting? Is earth so dear that its fleeting vanities; its bubbles of honour; its gewgaws of pride; its empty pleasures and fading distinctions must yet be purchased at the price of peace, of happiness and Heaven? Shall the soul be bartered away for trifles that perish in the using? Is the aspect of religion so forbidding and repulsive that its promises cannot allure you, nor its terrors overcome your aversion? What is there, I beseech you, in the favour of God, the friendship of Christ and the fellowship of the Spirit; what is there in knowledge, righteousness and holiness to excite your disgust? Are not these blessings which may demand a sacrifice; did, they not cost a sacrifice, and shall we scruple to make it when we remember the scenes of Gethsemane and Calvary? Let not the world deceive you with its charms—it may smile like the garden of God, but at last it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder. It has no objects which are suited to be the portion of your souls; and in the hour of your greatest need, when you require a friend that can comfort, and an arm that can support you, it will be the staff of a bruised reed, breaking beneath your weight and leaving you poor, and wretched, and blind, and naked, and miserable. Remember our Saviour’s solemn expostulation: " what is a man profited if he should gain the whole world and lose his own soul; or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?"

Perhaps, my friends, you are indulging expectations of a long life—perhaps, unconscious to yourselves, you are building on the hope of an earthly immortality. Multitudes who, in general terms, subscribe to the truth, that "we must all die, and are as water spilt upon the ground which cannot be gathered up," yet go on adding days to days and months to months to their little span, at every step removing death still at a distance beyond them, so that they virtually deny their own individual mortality. The old man, tottering on the brink of the grave, expects every night to rise in the morning, and every morning to be spared until night; and though the pains and infirmities of age, his trembling limbs, his exhausted strength, his fading sight, and his withered frame, have been for months or years preaching his funeral sermon, death, when it comes at last, takes him by surprise. The young find it peculiarly difficult to feel the certainty of death. They can hardly believe that their sun shall go down at noon, or that the bright morning of their hopes shall be suddenly eclipsed with clouds. But, my brethren, no infatuation is more pointedly and solemnly rebuked by the dispensations of providence than these presumptuous expectations of a long life. We live in a world of graves; the tomb is peopled with all classes, ages, sexes and conditions. "None can by any means redeem his brother or give to God a ransom, for his life." Death, sooner or later, must come to all; we cannot bid the sun stand still, nor drive back the shadow on the dial-plate of time; and when the decree which seals our fate is ripe for execution, whether it be morning, noon, or midnight, neither prayers, nor tears, nor blood; neither the vigour of youth, the strength of manhood, nor the furrows of age; neither the charms of beauty, the splendours of wealth, nor the distinctions of honour, shall be able to arrest the execution; we must draw the curtains and lie down to our last repose.

Life does not depend upon the natural resources of the system to sustain it, but upon the decree of God. "The lamp may be extinguished by a sudden blast when there is plenty of oil to feed it." At the bidding of heaven every object around us may be made an angel of death: the air we breathe, the food we eat, the motion of our muscles and the changes of the body may all be subservient to the dissolution of our frames. If we escape the arrow that flieth by day, we may fall before the pestilence that walketh in darkness. The heavens may crush us by their lightning; the sun blast us by its heat, and the earth itself prove unfaithful to its children and swallow them up as it did Korah, Dalthan and Abiram. Where then is any security for life? Where the wisdom of counting on many days, when the earth, the sky and air, are all "big with death"—when every thing around us proclaims that "life at best is but a vapour which appeareth for a little while and then vahisheth away." The truth is, it is exposed to so many "chances and hostilities" that its preservation for a single hour is as great a miracle as its original creation. The present is all that we can call our own. "This day is mine and yours; but ye know not what will be on the morrow. Every morning creeps out of a dark cloud, leaving behind it an ignorance and silence deep as midnight and undiscerned as are the phantasms that make a chrisome child to smile, so that we cannot discern what comes hereafter unless we had a light from heaven brighter than the vision of an angel, even the spirit of prophecy."

How emphatically should these truths be impressed on our minds by the sudden and mournful event which has occasioned this discourse! Who could read in the visage of your departed friend the symptoms of impending dissolution when he left these walls but a few months ago? Who could foresee that, in so short a time, his seat should be vacant and his youthful frame mouldering in the grave? His prospects of life were as good as yours, his hopes as bright, his elasticity of system as great. He too, was looking for many days, impatient for the time when dismissed from the halls of learning he should mingle in the theatre of busy life and achieve those honors for himself to which his talents, learning and industry might justly entitle him. But in a moment these delightful anticipations were eclipsed, and what do we behold in their stead but the funeral pall and shroud! The hopes of his friends are crushed; the mother that bare him, and the father that begat him could only weep for their child; "they may go to him, but he shall not return to them; he shall never awake till the heavens and the earth be no more." But does not his untimely fall proclaim in accents which ought not to be unheeded, the vanity of man, the deceitfulness of life, the certainty of death, and the instability of sublunary good? Does it not call upon you, young men, his companions and friends, to be always ready, since ye know not the day nor the hour when the Son of Man shall come. Stand, therefore, with your loins girt, your lamps trimmed, and your light shining, prepared, at any moment, for the midnight cry—"Behold the bridegroom cometh!" He shall come and that quickly; but woe to that servant who is taken by surprise! *

[ Footnote 8: Since this sermon was preached, additional force has been given to these remarks by the melancholy death of an amiable and promising member of the Sophomore Class, W. P. Blackburn. He died within the College walls under circumstances suited to arrest the drowsiest attention, and impress the hardest heart. Can it be that such powerful appeals of Providence shall be suffered to pass without improvement; that such awful calls of God to immediate repentance shall only harden our hearts and stiffen our necks, and treasure up wrath against the day of wrath? God grant that we may hear His voice while it is called today, and secure the "one thing needful," before the things that belong to our peace are forever hid from our eyes! ]

Within the last three months an unexampled number of all classes and conditions, but particularly of the young, has been called to their last account. It would almost seem that in certain portions of the State, God had opened in fury the fourth seal of the Apocalypse, and sent forth Death, with Hell following in its train, to desolate the land. On those parts of the country particularly, which have boasted a previous exemption from disease the cloud of mortality has been settled with an ominous blackness. A cry has been heard, like that in Egypt on the memorable night of Israel’s deliverance, and hardly a family can be found in which "the joy of their heart has not ceased and their dance been turned into mourning." The shafts of death have been flying so thickly and creating such promiscuous slaughter, that the living have felt no assurance of their lives, but each has stood in trembling apprehension as he buried his brother, that the same melancholy task might next be performed for him. *

[ Footnote 9: This is an allusion to the dreadful mortality with which the Districts of York, Lancaster and Chester were visited during the past summer. The reader will not suppose that the description of the text is exaggerated when he is informed that, for weeks together, in one of the most healthful neighbourhoods of York, not a day passed without at least one funeral, and frequently several. It is much to be hoped that these awful warnings will not be suffered to pass without improvement. The bitterest calamities on earth are unsanctified afflictions. ]

It is a mercy, my friends, if your families have been spared, and a still greater mercy that you yourselves are alive. When the judgments of God are abroad in the land, let me beseech you, my brethren, to "learn righteousness. Learn wisdom in time. The night cometh; may be just at hand, when no man can work. Let the opening graves around you warn you to prepare for death, judgment and eternity. Banish forever from your minds all thoughts of folly, dissipation or levity. The realities of eternity are too near, too awful, too portentous for indulging in security and ease; time, as the price of immortal blessedness, unspeakably, too precious to be wasted upon toys; the undying soul transcendently too valuable to be lost for a bubble. Young men, is it a time for peace, when your companions are falling on the, right and left; when the angel of death, like a brooding vulture, overshadows the land; when you yourselves are posting to the judgment bar with the proverbial rapidity of time, pressed with a load of unpardoned guilt that shall sink you to the lowest hell? Is it a time for peace? Merciful God! break the spell that blinds us! "So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom!" My dear young friends, is it to be the infatuated course of any of you to neglect "the day of your merciful visitation, until the things which make for your peace shall be forever hid from your eyes?" Can there be a deeper groan of agony; a more piercing cry of anguish than that which is wrung from a sinner when he first wakes up to the appalling truth, that mercy and hope are clean gone forever; that his soul is lost and eternity undone? How heart-rending will be the wail—"the harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved!" Oh, my friends, be warned in time; "give no sleep to your eyes, nor slumber to your eyelids," till you are reconciled to God; seize the angel of the Covenant with the grasp of faith, and say with the patriarch I will not let thee go except thou bless me. Look to that Eternal Spirit who sends forth His cherubim, and seraphim to touch the lips of whom He pleases; look to Him to enlighten your minds, to renew your hearts, to plant your feet upon the rock of ages; where you may stand unmoved by the terrors of death; unshaken amid the wreck of dissolving worlds. This is wisdom and a sound understanding.

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH IN NEWBURYPORT,

IT BEING THE

N E W B U R Y P O R T:

PUBLISHED BY JOHN G. TILTON.

1845.

No. 11 Devonshire Street, Boston.

The text of this and other superb works are available on-line from:

The Willison Politics and Philosophy Resource Center

http://willisoncenter.com/

Reprint and digital file September 1, 2001.

Willison Editor's note: Daniel Dana, A.M.,( Yale, 1782 ) D.D. (Yale, 1788) carried the torch for solid Reformation theology when many turned away in New England during his lifetime. (See His 1810 Deity of Christ sermon posted here for one of the strongest defenses for Trinitarian Theology available. )

This Fifty Year Sermon is a clear restating of Dana's 1810 Trinitarian Thesis, as he warns and expounds to his hearers concerning the negatives resultant from deficient theology, and the rise of its successor, the so-called "Enlightenment" atheism. pp. 18-21. His tenure as President of Dartmouth is mentioned, and the heart-ache it caused by his separation from his congregation in order to pursue that call.pg.22. His closing remarks indicate a superlative love for his people, with strong words of encouragement the parting theme.

The following begins the original text:

NEWBURYPORT Nov 23, 1841

The Rev. DANIEL DANA, D. D.

Dear Sir,— With the full concurrence, as we believe, of the First Presbyterian Church and Society, to whose service in the gospel, the energies of your youth were devoted, we present you our sincere thanks for the very appropriate and excellent discourse delivered at our place of worship, on the semi-centennial anniversary of your ordination.— Believing that its usefulness may be still further extended, we would also respectfully request a copy for publication.

J. F. STEARNS, Pastor of the Church.

To the Reverend Pastor, and the Session of the First Presbyterian Church.

ME DEAR BRETHREN,—AS your cordial invitation to preach a semi-centennial sermon in your house of worship, left me no choice, so your prresent request, thought dictated, probably, by a too partial judgment, is equally decisive with me. I therefore submit the discourse, with all its imperfections, to your disposal.

Whether it shall, or shall not be found nil worthy of the public attention, it will at least signify to the beloved people of my former and my present charge, what were the first, the last, and the dearest wishes of their affectionate pastor, in their behalf.

DISCOURSE.

IT is with no ordinary emotions, that I appear in this desk to-day. Fifty years since, standing on this spot, I received in sacred charge, and with a trembling heart, a beloved people. Little did I then think that my unworthy life would be prolonged to its present date, or that aught but death could terminate that endearing connection. Twenty-four years since, the event, so unanticipated and so painful, took place. I gave you my parting, and, as I supposed, my final benediction. Little did I imagine that the scene would ever be renewed, or that anything analogous would ever arise. But your affectionate invitation, coming to my heart with all the force of a command, brings me again before you this day.

A multitude of thoughts and feelings excited by the occasion, must be suppressed; for they are absolutely unutterable. It shall be my humble aim to employ the present hour, deeply interesting as it is to myself, and to most of my hearers, in a manner which may be profitable to all.

Suffer me, then, in opening my heart to those beloved friends to whom, in former and more recent time, I have preached the gospel — for both classes are now before me —

6

suffer me to appropriate the address of the Apostle in the text. For, pre-eminent as he was, in every natural, acquired and supernatural gift, he only speaks here the language of every sincere minister, though of the humblest talents and station. All such can truly say to those whom they have served in the gospel Now we live, if ye stand fast in the Lord.

You see, then, my friends, what constitutes the crowning joy and felicity of ministers. It is the pious steadfastness of their Christian hearers.

Let us meditate awhile on this momentous truth, and open our minds and hearts to its influence.

What is implied in the pious steadfastness of Christians, or, to use the Apostolic phrase, in their standing fast in the Lord, it is not difficult to ascertain.

Doubtless, a first and fundamental point is an enlightened and cordial attachment to gospel truth. Christianity, in common with every other science, has certain great and leading principles which are vital to the system. [ Italics added, Willison Ed.]If these principles are understood, the system is understood. If they are embraced, the system is embraced. If they are overlooked, or denied, or rejected, the same is true of the system itself.

Farther; what is holiness, what is genuine virtue, but conformity to truth ? The Saviour prays for his disciples, that they may be sanctified by the truth. The Apostle Peter declares of Christians, that they have purified their souls in obeying the truth. No human heart was ever yet purified by error. Nor can truth itself purify the heart, any farther than it is received, loved and obeyed.

If Christians, then, would stand fast in the Lord, they must have a deep-felt experience of the power of divine truth. This is the all in all of living, practical piety. It is this which puts the wide difference, not only between the believer and the unbeliever, but between the real Christian and the

7

mere formalist. Who has not observed that the Scriptures of God evermore lay the greatest possible stress on faith, as the grand source of moral excellence, and the unfailing determiner of human character. This, to many, appears wonderful. And were faith that cold, heartless thing which it is often conceived to be, it would more than wonderful. It would be inexplicable. But the truth is wholly the reverse. Faith, genuine faith, is the grand artery of the spiritual system. It is a living, powerful, active principle, laying hold of the truths of God’s Word, and writing them on the inmost heart. It gives them a real existence in the mind. It transfuses them, so to speak, through all the faculties and sensibilities of the soul.

In connection with this, let it be remembered that these Scriptural truths are not mere cold abstractions, nor barren generalities. In themselves, they are of immense magnitude and moment. To immortal beings they are interesting in the highest possible degree. In proportion as their influence is felt, they transform and modify the whole character. This is a point so interesting as to merit a moment’s illustration.

The Scriptures portray the condition of the human family as a condition of awful depravity and guilt. Every human being is alienated from God, offensive to his purity, and obnoxious to his endless wrath, with all its insupportable consequences. And who sees not that these truths, believed and felt, must have a mighty influence on the mind; banishing its sloth, its security, its worldliness; giving the death-blow to its pride, and prostrating its delusive hopes in the dust?

But our sinful, self-ruined race is not abandoned by its God. His own Son has left his heaven; has on earth shed atoning blood, that he might raise us up from the very gates of hell, to that heaven from which he descended. And what mysteries of love and grace are here; fitted to penetrate every human heart to its centre, and to awaken the liveliest

8

sensibilities of gratitude, of love, and of everlasting devotion.

But these sensibilities are unknown; a dying Saviour’s love leaves the heart still cold and hard, till another miracle of mercy is wrought. The Almighty Spirit descends; opens the blinded sinner’s eyes; bursts asunder the strong bars of unbelief and sin, and binds him, by everlasting cords of grateful love, to his God and Redeemer. He is now a saved sinner; and he is saved by a grace which is purely and strictly sovereign. For he resisted all its tender advances; and would have resisted to the last, but for the overcoming mercy of Heaven.

Here, then, are the great and stupendous truths which occupy the Scriptures, and which occupy the believer’s heart. The utterly depraved and helpless condition of man, the interpositions of a Divine, atoning Saviour, and of an Almighty, renewing Spirit — salvation from deserved and endless ruin — salvation by pure and sovereign grace. These are the truths which break the slumber of the human intellect, and which, wherever admitted, go down to the inmost depths of the soul. And we repeat it, they mould the character. They become powerful principles of action; and permanent, as well as powerful. Securing a lodgrnent in the heart, they can never be lost. We do not wonder that those with whom these truths are mere speculations, and who never felt their humbling, purifying, exalting influence, can easily resign them. They must have been unwelcome guests, and, of course, readily parted with. But to the experienced Christian, they are dear; too dear to be resigned. Others may doubt, but his faith is too firm to be shaken. Others may vacillate, but he stands fast in the Lord.

For a religion, however, of mere experience, we do not contend. The religion which does not sanctify and govern the life, must, with all its pretensions, be hollow and false.

9

What is a change of heart, if it does not meliorate the habitual temper, and whole demeanor? What is repentance, if it does not embitter every form of sin, and bind to universal holiness ? What is faith, what is gospel hope, if they do not shed a purifying, sublimating influence over all the life. Why are Christians styled the sons of God, unless they are blameless and harmless, shining as lights in the world, holding forth the word of life, declaring, by the resistless eloquence of example what is that religion which comes from heaven, and what are its sublime and unparalleled excellencies?

Standing fast in the Lord, I remark with emphasis, implies decision of character. It is readily conceded that all the great doctrines of the gospel stand opposed to the pride and corruption of the heart. Many of these doctrines are so sublime and mysterious that they elude an entire comprehension. But what then ? — The heart, once effectually humbled, can admit the most mortifying truths. It can even cherish, with peculiar tenacity and delight, the truths which humbled it more and more, and at which it once felt only disgust. As to the mysteries of religion, the enlightened mind receives them on the simple: authority of God. And what higher authority can it ask? Thus fortified may it not feel itself secure? May it not courageously resist all opposition ? Yes; the consistent Christian is a man of decision. He has entered an infallible school, and has an unwavering confidence in his Teacher. He perceives an intrinsic and unparalleled beauty in the lessons inculcated. In addition, he daily feels their sanctifying power on his heart. He finds that the very truths which once offended his pride, are the most powerful auxiliaries to all holiness, and all virtue. Surely such a man is not to be robbed of his faith by the arts of sophistry; nor seduced by the fascinations of error, nor turned aside by the shiftings of every fashionable gale.

10

A similar decision marks his whole plan and course, of conduct. Here he is governed, not by the laws of earth, but of heaven; not by the maxims of a heartless morality, or of a mere formal piety, but by the unerring, unbending principles of the Word of God. Its great and unrepealed law, Be not conformed to this world, he conscientiously reduces to practice. Not that he affects needless singularities, or an uncommanded strictness. He willingly complies with the established usages of society, when innocent and salutary; and this, that he may oppose them with the better grace and effect, when they cross the path of his duty. Withersoever that path leads, he resolutely follows; nor can seduction s or dangers, enemies or friends, turn him aside.

Standing fast in the Lord, as it implies a firm adherence to gospel truth, involves, too, a courage and zeal in its defence. "Contending earnestly for the faith, once delivered to the saints," was viewed by an Apostle, not as an indication of bigotry, but as an essential part of Christian duty. So it is esteemed, wherever Christianity is found in a healthful and vigorous state. So it is regarded by every enlightened good man. He knows that from the purity, of gospel truth, is mainly derived its power and efficiency. He knows that they are the distinctive doctrines of revelation, which furnish the chief support and aliment of vital and practical piety. This he has learned from consciousness, from experience, from observation, from the history of the church, and from the Bible. He therefore holds fast these precious doctrines. To resign them, would seem a species of soul-destroying folly. Not to defend them against the assaults of enemies, would be treachery to the Saviour, and gross unfaithfulness to the vital interests of his church.

In fine; to stand fast in the Lord, is to persevere in the profession and practice of gospel religion, to the very end. The religion of thousands has but too accurately resembled

11

the prophet’s gourd. It has come up in a night, and perished in a night. How many, who have commenced a course of apparent piety, and under promising auspices, have soon faltered, and declined to open ungodliness and sin. How many, who have shone for years, with even an unnatural brilliancy, have closed their career in disastrous darkness. Instances like these, while they grieve the thoughtful, and gladden the wicked, do but quicken and confirm the genuine, determined Christian. They send him to his own heart, to his Bible, to his closet, to his Saviour. Self-suspicious, watchful and prayerful, he holds on his way. He even gathers courage and strength from every casual defeat. He feels it better to die than to yield. He perseveres to the end; and obtains final victory and triumph over every foe.

You perceive, then, beloved hearers, what it is to stand fast in the Lord. This lovely character belongs to those who, from conviction of gospel truth, and vivid experience of its purifying power, are inspired with an unwavering decision in the cause of God and holiness; a decision, which, pervading their whole system of views, and feelings, and conduct, summons all their faculties to the defence of this sacred cause, and will not suffer them to abandon the conflict to their latest hour.

I have intimated that to see Christians thus standing fast in the Lord, is the cherished wish, and the crowning felicity of ministers. The reasons of this you will naturally anticipate.

You cannot but see that Christians Of this character are a precious recompense of a minister’s cares and toils. To labor in a glorious cause; to serve the best of Masters, is indeed a sublime privilege. But to labor in vain, to spend our strength for naught, is often sickening to the heart. In proportion to our love to our Master, and to the souls committed to our care, we shall be pained and grieved to see

12

spiritual langor and death prevailing around us. And when the scene is changed; when life invades the regions of death;. when the gospel standard gathers around it throngs of immortal beings; how delightful to the faithful minister is the spectacle. Yet even here, trembling is mingled with his joy. He knows how little proportioned, often, is the fruit to the blossoms. Perhaps he soon witnesses numbers who apparently commenced the Christian course with ardor, falling back into the ranks of sin. Others, without so plain an abandonment, are yet but too equivocal in their course, and give him alternate grounds of hope and fear. A third class evidently stand fast in the Lord. They are: rooted in the faith, and hope, and love of the gospel. They grow in grace. They bear much precious fruit. These, these are eminently the minister’s joy and crown; the rich reward of his solicitudes, his prayers and exertions. They comfort his heart; they strengthen his hands; they lighten his labors; they soothe his sorrows. He proceeds with new alacrity and vigor amid the toils and discouragements of his office.

Let, it, not be thought, strange, if I remark, that Christians of this stamp contribute much to increase a minister’s piety. To some it may appear that animated and vigorous piety is almost a necessary incident of the ministerial office. It is a sad mistake. Alas! our own experience often attests the reverse. We often feel most imperfectly the force, of those truths, counsels, warnings and consolations which it is our duty to address to others. Our very preaching and prayers and exhortations, unless they go from warm hearts (and whose heart is always ,warm ?) are but too likely to generate in ourselves a, spiritual insensibility. The solemnity and tenderness we often feel in, the pulpit, and in the chambers of the sick and dying may prove instruments of self-deception. The good opinion of our fellow-Christians, their well-meant commendations of our services, their sympathy in our trial

13

and ours in theirs, may often tend to the same dangerous point. Few, few indeed, more imperiously need aids to their piety, and helps against spiritual decline, and the religion of mere form, than ministers. This assistance they must seek mainly from God, and his blessed Word. Among human instrumentalities, none are more efficient than solid, established, advanced Christians. If it is a minister’s duty to teach his people, it is both his duty and privilege to learn of the best part of them. Our cold hearts often need to be warmed by the fire which Heaven has enkindled, in some of the obscurest of our charge. Their humility puts our pride to the blush. Their spiritual attainments, their faith, their love, their self-denial, their zeal, summon us to imitation. Their consolations amid poverty, neglect, pain, sickness, death, make us feel more deeply the worth of that gospel we preach and engage us to preach it with more feeling, simplicity and energy.

And whither shall a minister look for the most active and energetic auxiliaries in carrying out the great designs of his work? Who will faithfully co-operate with him in advancing the Saviour’s cause, in opposing the progress of error and ungodliness in reclaiming sinners from ruin, and elevating the piety of the church? Should he seek such aid of the superficial, unstable class of professors, he will go in quest of disappointment. But to Christians of deep, decided, and eminent piety, he will not look in vain. Their example will add force to all his pious efforts. The sermons he delivers on the Sabbath, they will preach over anew, each day of the week, with the attractive and commanding eloquence of a holy life. In their pious deportment, in their heavenly spirit, the world will see what religion is; how real, how lovely, how divine. With what advantage does that minister declare the everlasting truths of the gospel, who can point to numbers around him as proofs that they are not mere speculations, but of

14

mighty efficacy to subdue the corruptions of the heart, and inspire the noblest virtues. Who can doubt that, were these instances greatly multiplied, the effect would be most salutary? Skepticism would retire abashed; the tongue of infidelity would be silenced; the religion of Christ would rise from its depressions, would reach an elevation hitherto unknown, and receive homage from all but the most perverse and abandoned.

There is another view in which eminent and exemplary Christians give comfort to a minister’s heart. He perceives in them an assurance that the Spirit of God has not withdrawn. Surely this gracious Spirit is "the Giver of every good gift;" the Author and Bestower of all that is spiritually excellent in man. When, therefore, Christians, however small their number, shine in the beauty of holiness, and stand fast in the doctrines and precepts of their Saviour, THE SPIRIT OF GOD is among them. And although his influence may be sadly suspended, as it regards the many, it is powerfully and richly bestowed on the favored few. Here is consolation for the almost discouraged minister. He looks around him, and beholds iniquity abounding, and the love of many waxing cold; Zion in tears, and her enemies in triumph; and his heart is ready to sink within him. But let him not despond. The Heavenly Dove still hovers over the scene. The Holy Spirit still lingers with a favored, precious remnant. He will not, he cannot forsake them. Their prayers detain him. And who can tell but through the efficacy of these prayers, the windows of heaven may be opened, and an abundant, overwhelming blessing be poured down?

But the faithful minister’s cares are not confined to the present age. He looks forward with deep solicitude to ages to come. Soon he will sleep in dust. Soon all around him will sleep in dust. And when the present generation of

15

Christians shall have retired from the stage, who shalt come forward to occupy their place? Shall religion still survive? Shall the cause of God be vigorously supported? Shall his truths and ordinances be maintained in unimpaired purity and power? Or shall religion lie down in the graves of those who now occupy the stage? Shall Christian worship, and Christian ordinances, and Christian piety take their flight? Or, the living reality being gone, shall nothing remain, but empty forms, and lifeless observances? Shall error, and delusion, and fanaticism, and infidelity, and vice, and crime overspread the region where the Spirit of God once dwelt, and the religion of his gospel diffused its heavenly influence? —The answer to these thrilling questions must be found in the character of professing Christians of the present day. If they retain but a slender hold of the vital truths of the gospel; if they feel little, perhaps almost nothing, of their sanctifying power; if indecision, and vacillation, and heartlessness mark their character; if, instead of opposing a dignified resistance to the spirit and manners of the world, they suffer themselves to be swept away by its fashions, its practices, its follies, its vices — what a legacy do they leave to posterity. How surely, as night follows day, will the coming generations reap the sad and fatal harvest of their delinquency. But if living Christians are faithful; if they stand fast in the Lord; if they hold dearer than life the doctrines of his Word; if their tempers and their lives exhibit the sanctifying power of truth: if their heavenly example is a constant rebuke to the heartless morality, or the avowed impiety of an evil world — they will prove lights and blessings, not only to the present age, but to future ages. They will transmit to their children, and to their children’s children, the fair, the invaluable inheritance of piety. And this beautiful land, in which our Pilgrim Fathers sought the pure and free worship of their God and Saviour, shall to the lateset period, be bright with heavenly light, and rich in all that adorns and blesses a people.

16

And where is the minister’s hope for the conversion and salvation of the world? Surely, if he is a minister indeed; if his office and his heart are not at variance; this is the object of his dearest desires, of his daily exertions, and nightly prayers. And the world will be converted. Eternal truth has declared it. Almighty power will accomplish it. The reign of idolatry and sin, of superstition and blood, in our wretched globe, shall cease; and earth shall join with heaven in the pure worship of God and the Lamb. But by whose instrumentality shall this mighty revolution be effected? Who are the chosen, the honored delegates of Heaven, who shall be thus the blessings of earth, and benefactors of their species? They are Christians; Christians not in mere name, but reality; truth-loving, whole-souled, energetic Christians. Professors who have lost their first love, and perhaps their first faith, will have no heart for it. Professors who are immersed in the world, will have no time for it. Professors who feel little of the gospel’s power and preciousness, will scarcely be at the trouble of sending that gospel abroad. Professors who have turned away from the truth, to a philosophical or fashionable religion, will not, probably, send to the heathen a better religion than their own. Even the missionaries who go from a community overspread with error, and with worldliness, will probably convey spiritual death, rather than life, to the unevangelized nations which they visit.

The minister, then, who wishes well to the heathen world, must wish to see the Christian world more Christian than it ever yet has been. He must wish to see the whole church receiving, as it were, a new baptism. He must wish to see all Christian professors clinging to their Saviour’s cross; holding his heavenly doctrines dearer than their heart’s blood, and counting all things but loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ. They will then want no persuasions to feel, and pray, and act, and contribute for a dying world.

17

They will pour out their treasures like water, for its salvation. Gold, in their view, will be dross, compared with the pleasure of spreading the triumphs of their Saviour’s love through a dying world. And they will send out a pure gospel. They will not mock the hunger of the perishing heathen with husks. They will send them bread; the bread of heaven; bread which has sustained their own spiritual life; bread which whosoever eats, shall live for ever.

Suffer me to add one reason more, why the faithful minister delights in the pious steadfastness of his hearers. It inspires the soul-thrilling hope of meeting them in heaven. But on this subject, I feel myself almost as unable, as I am unworthy to speak. Listen, then, to one who could say with a grace, to his beloved converts: "What is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye, in the presence of. our Lord Jesus Christ, at his coming? For ye are our glory and joy.".— When ministers reflect on the dignity, importance and responsibilities of their office, on the one hand, and on their own unworthiness and numberless defects on the other, they often find it hard to believe that they can be accepted at last. To be welcomed to the Saviour with smiles; to hear his voice of condescending love and approbation, appears a blessedness quite overwhelming. Yet in those moments when to this blessedness they raise an eye of trembling hope, their joy would be incomplete, might they not expect to share it with their beloved hearers. Adored be the grace of Heaven, this joy may be anticipated; and will, by every pious minister, and every pious hearer, be realized. And if such delights attend their communion below; if, in mingling hearts amid the prayers, and praises, and instructions of the earthly sanctuary, there is such pure and sublime enjoyment, what will be the unknown bliss of the heavenly temple? There, no sin will mar, no anxious fear intrude, no sorrow vex the spirit. There, no heart will be cold, no tongue be silent, no

18

discordant note be heard, amid myriads and millions of happy worshippers. — But here, language fails, and even imagination is baffled. Beloved friends; let us believe that these visions of bliss are not splendid fictions, but solid realities. And believing this, let us pray, 0 let us pray, that none of us all, ministers or hearers, may be found at last debarred, and self-debarred, from that holy and blest assembly.

In the selection of my theme, and in its discussion, it has been my great object to inculcate on Christian professors, a decided, ardent and vigorous piety; a piety which, built on gospel principles, shall, like the gospel itself, resist every assault, and inflexibly preserve its own heavenly character, amid all the mutations of time and fashion, of error and of sin. To the other imperious and affecting considerations which recommend a piety of this stamp, permit me to add a few thoughts derived from the aspects of the present time.

It would be absurd to deny that this is an age of great and invaluable improvements. The human mind, having received apparently a new impulse, has plunged deep in the profundities of science; has even explored new territories; and has levied on science the most wonderful contributions to the progress of art. Theories unquestioned in former ages, have been examined and exploded, and new and improved theories built on their ruins. Thousands contend for a similar process in religion. But this is a superficial thought. Religion is not the offspring of human invention, nor the subject of human improvement. She is the daughter of the skies; and her heavenly beauties are only darkened and disfigured,. when an arrogant philosophy assumes to mend them. Like her divine Author, she is the same, yesterday, to-day, and for ever. Beware, Christians, lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ.

19

We are annoyed with a system of self-styled rationalism, which is in fact a compound of gross and palpable irrationalities. Its authors, by the very force of their talents and learning, have reached a degree of absurdity which puts common ignorance and error to the blush. Denying the Inspiration of Scripture, they blot out all its essential and distinguishing doctrines, substituting in their place their own dreams and delusions. The effects of the system, wherever it has obtained predominance in Europe, are precisely such as might have been anticipated. It has nearly obliterated the Sabbath; it has emptied the Christian temple, and spread impiety, licentiousness and vice among all ranks. Ages, centuries to come will scarcely suffice to counteract the poison it has diffused, and repair the ruin it has accomplished.

And yet thousands, in this land of the pious pilgrims, are yielding themselves to the same fatal delusions. Nor can it be sufficiently regretted that thousands of our well informed and respectable citizens, while they shudder at these extravagancies of error and impiety, stand fearfully exposed to similar aberrations. Wherever the proper and plenary inspiration of the Bible is denied, or doubted, there an avenue is opened for the admission of every species of religious delusion. The mistake is in itself simple, and often unalarming. But the consequences following on it are disastrous and endless. Even among those who admit the inspiration of Scripture, discrepancies in religious views are sadly multiplied. But how vastly must the evil be increased, where the Heavenly Oracle is distrusted; and its responses command no implicit assent. Are not men, in such circumstances, thrown back on the mere light of nature; or more properly, on the darkness, the endless wanderings, and destructive delusions of heathenism itself?

Still other dangers, dangers in some respects more threatening, beset the American churches at the present day.

20

A style of preaching has obtained, which openly opposes almost none of the great doctrines of the gospel; which indeed seems to pay homage to them, by adopting much the same terms in which these doctrines have formerly been delivered; and yet, by a kind of under-current, the proper force and meaning of these terms are swept entirely away. It would be deplorable indeed, if in this way, a revolution should be insensibly introduced into our theology, and our churches should be led to adopt a new kind of religion, without even suspecting it. The design may be to improve religion, to strip it of its old-fashioned garb, to adorn it with some new accomplishments which shall commend it to the philosophic and the fashionable. The effect must be to emasculate its vigor; to deprive it of its power to nourish and console the hearts of Christians, and to awaken the consciences of the unconverted.

Never, surely, was there a period when the friends of truth were more imperiously summoned to its defence. Nor was there ever a period in which unestablished minds had more powerful reasons to bring themselves with deep solicitude to the inquiry What is truth?

As there may probably be some of this last description in the present assembly, I would affectionately present to their consideration a single thought.

Ascertain, my friends, if you can (and the thing is not difficult) what are the doctrines which, in every age, both the friends and the enemies of the Bible have united to find on its pages: the one class viewing them with intense delight; and the other, with a disgust which has repelled them from the Bible itself. Ascertain, too, what are the doctrines which, while they have nourished the piety and soothed the sorrows of the good man, have filled the wicked with terror, and, at the same time, guided the awakened conscience, the disquieted soul, to peace. Ascertain these points, and you have an answer to the question, What is truth ?

21

If it can never be enough lamented, that the doctrines of God’s word should be opposed, corrupted and trampled down, there is another fact in our religious community scarcely less lamentable, and but for its undeniable frequency, almost surpassing belief. I refer to the case of those numbers who regularly hear, and professedly believe the truth ; yet with perfect apathy and unconcern. In thousands of congregations, those doctrines and warnings are uttered in the name of, the eternal God, which should thrill every conscience, and overwhelm the unconverted mind with terror. And who is moved? Who puts the question, What are these things to me? What is the state of my undying soul? Where am I to spend my eternity?

If a careless world can slumber over these dread realities, can Christians slumber? Should they not rouse? Should not their heart and flesh tremble for the woes that await the wicked? Should they not entreat them in the bowels of Christian compassion, to escape while they may? Are not Christians in this place loudly called, at this period of awful slumber, to lift the warning voice — to try, if possible, some new and unusual efforts to save their dying fellow-creatures? If they feel, with agonizing conviction, that their best efforts are powerless, should they not send up united, soul-breathed supplications to heaven for the interposition of the Holy Spirit of God — that Spirit that can revolutionize our whole religious state —that Spirit that can breathe life into immortal, but perishing souls?

Indulged as I have been, beloved hearers, to accomplish half a century of ministerial service, chiefly in this place; and called, this day, to utter some of my last words, I may be expected, perhaps, to take, at least, a momentary review of the past.

I was first invited to officiate in this congregation in the

22

spring of 1794. Here I found a church which had been gathered about a half-century previous, and this, with a professed view to cultivate great purity in the truths and ordinances of God. Heaven had signally smiled on the design; and under the successive ministrations of two distinguished pastors, the church and congregation had attained an unusually flourishing state. Recently, indeed, their numbers had been somewhat diminished by a secession, which, being not small from the first, speedily increased to a large and respectable Society. My ordination proceeded with a degree of harmony, but not to universal satisfaction; and the worthy members who dissented, retired the following year, and formed the church and congregation to which I have had the honor to minister for the last eighteen years. My own flock, however, still remained large, and furnished ample employment for all my powers of body and mind. To me, my labors, though arduous, were delightful; and to the honor of my heavenly Master, I would acknowledge, that they were not wholly unblest. Without any signal revival of religion, the church received gradual, but not inconsiderable accessions; and these accessions were rather increased in the closing years of my connection. When invited to a new and distant scene of action,* [ Footnote: The presidency of Dartmouth College. ] I felt it a duty to submit the question of compliance to the judgment and advice of others. When, in obedience to that judgment and advice, I forced myself away from a people most tenderly beloved, the scene was heartrending. And such was my prostration of bodily, as well as mental power, that, for a time, the hope of future action and usefulness almost deserted me. That my heart was not separated, my friends are well aware; nor has it been a small delight, since my return to this place, occasionally to revisit their pulpit, and to mingle my sympathies in the scenes of

23

their sickness and sorrow. It has likewise been a source of heart-felt satisfaction, that, with each of the highly esteemed ministers who have succeeded me, I have maintained a sincere and unbroken friendship. I have rejoiced in their prosperity, and have been gratified in lending, as occasion has presented, my feeble aid in lightening some portion of their labors.

I am deeply sensible, too, to the privilege of ministering to the Christian society, now under my care. Their smaller numbers have seemed well to comport with my own increased years and infirmities. The minister who duly estimates the exigencies of his people, and the responsibilities of his office, can never want employment. In my last connection, I have found friends firm and faithful; friends who have aided me by their efforts, and prayed blessings down upon my feeble labors. And here, too, adored be the goodness and the grace of God, I can speak of the spiritual children he has given me. In the season of quickened attention with which this place was blest about thirteen years since, a number not small was gathered into my church. Nor before that favored period, nor since, have my efforts among my present charge seemed to be wholly unrewarded.

But the remembrance of these things is like "the memory of joys that are past." These seem too much like tales of other times. And I deeply sympathize with my beloved ministerial brethren in the thought, that we can scarcely glance at visitations of divine mercy in seasons past, and not be pained with a melancholy contrast in the dearth and dereliction of the present.

Among the privileges allotted me in this place, I ought to mention the solid friendship which I have enjoyed with some of its best inhabitants, without regard to Society limits. Their conversation has often been instructive to me, their kindness animating, their sympathy consoling. Indeed, from

24

every description of citizens, I have received all the attention and respect I could desire, and far more than I have deserved. So multiplied are the tokens of regard and affection which have thronged around me of late, that my heart must be composed of strange materials, if its liveliest sensibilities have not been awakened.

With the ministers of the place generally, I have lived in an interchange of kind offices which has been rarely interrupted; while from those with whom circumstances have particularly connected me, I have derived much aid and support in the discharge of my ministerial functions.

I feel myself impelled to offer a very few remarks on the religious and moral character, past and present, of our beloved town.

Newburyport, when my acquaintance with it commenced, occupied a commanding position among its sister towns of New England. For its piety, its orthodoxy, its regard to the Sabbath and religious institutions, and, I may add, for the general purity and sobriety of its citizens, it was viewed by thousands near and remote, as a model. It would be, I fear, but to echo the apprehensions of the best among us, to state, that from this lofty position, there has been; long since, an evident and sad descent. I know that through our country, degeneracy has been awfully extensive, and would gladly believe that our own degeneracy has but kept pace with the times. But what says the Sabbath? Where is the silence, the seriousness, the almost universal attendance on the house of God, and the marked devotion there, which once signalized this sacred day? And where the Sabbath is neglected and profaned, it follows of course, that family devotion and family government will decline; children will be ungoverned, and youth unrestrained; the fear of God will vanish, and eternity be forgotten; while vice and licentiousness, in their various and nameless forms, will walk abroad in the community, unabashed and

25

unchecked. I honestly fear, my beloved hearers, that these mournful symptoms are but too visible in our moral condition. Every attentive mind perceives them. Every pious heart bleeds over them.

And are there no symptoms of degeneracy in what may be termed the religious portion of our favored town? Have Christians at large those discriminating views of gospel truth; have they that vivid experience of its power, that stability in its maintenance, and zeal in its defence, which usually accompany a healthful and flourishing state of religion? Is the line of demarcation between the religious and the irreligious, clear and broad; or is it so indistinct as, in many cases, to be scarcely discernible? Are professors conscientiously and courageously opposing the tide of fashion and worldliness, of error and of sin; or do they too often consent to be borne away by the overwhelming current?

Yet as I would not wish to darken the picture by gloomy exaggeration, so neither would I detain you on a single side of it. And blessed be God ! there is a more favorable side. There are numbers, among us, even yet, and those numbers are not small, who fear God, and keep his commandments; who hallow his Sabbaths, and reverence his sanctuary; who govern their houses, and govern their hearts; who oppose to the aboundings of sin, a dignified and consistent Christian example; who habitually consecrate time, talents, influence, substance, prayers, to the cause of reformation, to the salvation of their country, and the salvation of the world. I will confess that amid all the discouragements which have attended my ministry of late years, one thought has preserved me from absolute despondency. I assuredly know that there are scattered throughout our town, a goodly number, habitually awake to the interests of Zion, and unweariedly pleading that cause at the throne of heaven. I believe that their prayers enter the ear of the Almighty, and will return, soon or

26

late, in blessings on themselves, in blessings on the town, in blessings on the church and world.

Standing in this place to-day, I am forcibly reminded of the rapid flight of time, and the ravages of death. Of the large society to which, as a minister, I was first united, and which then occupied this house, not more than nine or ten males, then in adult years, survive to the present time. I find myself therefore addressing, not my original friends and parishioners, but their children, their grand-children, and others who have come into their places. Of the members who were active in organizing the church and congregation with which I am now connected, not an individual survives. Thousands, then, lately composing these two societies (for thousands they literally were) have been summoned to their final Judge, and to the retributions of eternity. And long before a similar period shall have passed away, where will he a vast majority of this numerous assembly? They will be summoned to the same glorious Judge, and the same eternal retributions.

But I am unwilling to trespass farther on the patience of my respected audience. Let me only add a few closing words to the members of those two beloved societies to which so great a portion of my ministerial life and labors has been devoted.

And let me call you, my dear friends, to unite with me in gratefully adoring the mercy of God, that he should be pleased to intrust me with the ministry of the gospel, and permit me to execute it during the unusual period of fifty years. To preach the unsearchable riches of my Saviour, I have truly preferred to the very highest of earthly honors. To be continued in the Gospel vineyard, when most of my fellow laborers, and nearly all my contemporaries are gone, is a great and distinguishing mercy.

27

If any good has resulted from my ministry; if the cause of Christ and his truth has, in any degree, been served; if, in my unworthy hands, the gospel has instrumentally saved immortal souls from ruin, or quickened and comforted the children of God; ascribe, I entreat you, all the glory, now and for ever, to the riches of sovereign and almighty grace.

Let me entreat you, likewise, to join your prayers with mine, that the defects and sins of my life and ministry (ah, they are great and numberless) may be graciously pardoned; and that through the precious blood shed for the priesthood, as well as for the congregation, my very imperfect and stained services may find acceptance, and myself be permitted to appear with comfort before my final Judge. The Lord grant that we all may find mercy of the Lord in that day!

My remaining counsel, and my parting benediction, you will receive as breathed from Apostolic lips; nor will you doubt that my inmost heart accords.

"My brethren, dearly beloved and longed-for, my joy and crown, so stand fast in the Lord, my dearly beloved." —" Ye, therefore, beloved, seeing ye know these things before, beware lest ye also, being led away by the error of the wicked, fall from your own steadfastness. But grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ." —"Finally, brethren, farewell. Be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace; and the God of love and peace shall be with you."

Now unto Him who is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless kefore the presence of his glory with exceeding joy; to the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever.

HYMN.

By The Hon. . GEORGE LUNT.

Qur fathers’ God! we bless thy name,

Whose promise stands in words of light,

That still, from age to age the same,

Thine own are precious in thy sight.

Our days, like bubbles down the stream,

Dissolving float and melt away,

And life we call a fleeting dream,

As worldly hopes and thoughts decay.

But when a servant of thy house

The nobler work of life has done,

And round his venerated brows

The crown appears already won;

Tis then our souls adore the Lord,

For every bright example given,

To bind us closer to his word,

And fix our wandering hearts on heaven.

30

HYMN.

31

He hath, from the world’s broad highways,

Soldiers for the cross enrolled —

From its pois’nous dells and byways,

Gathered lambs for Jesus’ fold.

He hath guarded, called, and fed them;

Faithful Pastor of thy flock!

32