te RQ SEN SN SS KG \ . AN ny ue EE RE 5 aS ‘: Ni ; 4 sf 7 a ee Ps ee ee se Linda Dancer sak he CHRISTIAN GREATNESS IN THE Minister. A DISCOURSE ON THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF PereitN HERDER NEALE, D.D. FORTY YEARS PASTOR OF THE FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH OF BOSTON}; DELIVERED BEFORE THE CHURCH OCTOBER I7, 1880, THE FORTY-SECOND ANNIVERSARY OF HIS SETTLEMENT, BY WiLLiAM Hacug, D.D. PUBLISHED BY REQUEST OF THE CHURCH. Boston: HOWARD GANNETT. 1880, PLoCOURSE. Jobv. 26: ‘Thou shalt come to thy grave in a full age, like as a shock of corn cometh in in his season.” Matt. xx. 26, 27: “Whosoever will be great among you, let him be your minister; and whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant.” THE ancient benediction here set before us, celebrating the ideal close of a career that has fulfilled its chief aim upon earth, has been effectually realized in the experience and the record of the Rev. Rollin Heber Neale, D.D., whose memory this generation would not willingly let die, whose life and character we have met to commemorate. A completed mission —a well-rounded life-work in accord- ance with the design of the Creator, rich in the fruitage of Christian graces garnered up in personal character —is now, as of old, the one supreme good that meets the deepest need and the highest aspiration of which human nature is capable. Hence this song of promise, sung by one of the earliest of Oriental poets, sets forth the departure of a faithful man “in full age,” as a perfect harmony with the nature and fitness of 4 things, imparting to the close of his earthly course a radiance of festal beauty like the autumnal welcome of the ripe sheaf to its garner. : Thus, in the retrospective view of the year 1879, the tranquil departure of Dr. Neale from the chief field of his life- work looms up as an event ‘‘in season’’—the fitting complete- ment of that ‘‘patient continuance in well-doing” that had signalized him as a wise and trusted steward, whose exit from earth was but promotion from the charge over ‘“‘a few things” to the promised ‘‘rule over many things” that is set forth by Christ as the sharing of his own boundless heritage of joy. To some of us, despite the premonitions of preceding months, that departure was a surprise. While absent from home, on a Western journey, I was cheered by the announce- ments of the press that the signs were more favorable, and that his restoration to the enjoyment of society was expected. How soon afterward came the intelligence that he had gone! Then, at once, as I turned my thoughts homeward, the outlook was so sadly changed—like a familiar landscape whence a lightning-stroke has smitten away the old majestic elm, or some object of life-long interest that had been the attractive feature of the surrounding. Just so, indeed, in the cherished thought of many, far and near, has been Dr. Neale in Boston —‘‘a living presence,” whose power to awaken tender memories and touch the deeper 5 % springs of feeling in our spirit-nature has been the growth of more than half a century. In the survey of the two hundred and fifteen years’ history of the church that he last served, he stands forth in the foreground of the time-picture a prominent figure, in company with his eminent predecessor, Rev. Samuel Stillman, D.D.— the only ministers who loom up so grandly as severally distinguished by an uninterrupted pastorate of forty years’ duration. That period was of old deemed adequate for the develop- ment and trial of) character, as Moses affirmed in regard -to Israel.* Thanks to God that, as we now take this whole period of our brother’s last pastorate within our view retrospect- ively, we are impressed with the significance of its recofd, seeing that the first touching of the child-heart by the divine Spirit, the first parental teachings of the Christian home, the first aspirations of youth, the first determinations and tentative efforts of early manhood, have grown into an effective life- work —a completed unity of character bearing the impress of that moral ereatness which Jesus emphasized when he declared true usefulness to be true greatness, saying: ‘‘ Whosoever will be great among you, let him bé your minister; and whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant.” In this saying our Lord distinguishes the essential idea of Christian ambition as a ruling desire to achieve in his service * Deut. viii. 2. 6 ¢ a high degree of excellence for its own sake. As by the necessity of its nature, an active mind tends either to sink or soar, He here recognizes, in the truly Christian soul, an aspiration that is not only lawful, but laudable —a spontaneous play of the inner life, an element of force in personal charac- ter. Of Christian ambition as thus defined, Dr. Neale has lived, in the presence of his generation, as a true exponent; and now, in bringing him anew before the eye of memory as an object of sympathetic interest, surveying his work as a upity, viet. us sconsider; —- I. ‘THE NATURE OF THIS CHRISTIAN AMBITION AS A MOTIVE- POWER. II. ITS WORKING IN HIS LIFE. III. Irs EXEMPLIFICATION IN CHARACTER. Evidently, in this connection, the Christly ambition whereof we have spoken, regarded as a principle of action, is worthy of a few moments’ notice. In the little band of disciples that Jesus drew around Him in his earthly ministry, there was, it seems, an aspiration after relative greatness; an ambitiog to undertake, to do, or suffer, great things in order to realize a high standard of ideal excel- lence. The teaching of our Master here before us does not condemn this aim, but sets forth its true object of pursuit and the true method of its realization. Certainly, the gifted mind 7 that lacks the aspiration to rise higher, will gravitate to the depths earthward; hence ambition, the desire of something better and greater than any present attainment, is a moral necessity. Why, then, it may be asked, is the word ‘‘ambition” so commonly used in a sense that implies a censure, something that one is loth to own? Such is the fact; it has a meaning. If you say, unqualifiedly, of a Christian minister that he is an ambitious man, you incur a degree of liability to being made responsible for the affirmation that he is worldly, self-seekigg, covetous of honor or power. So, too, if you apply the term in characterizing a statesman, you seem to cast a shadow of suspicion over his patriotism, and would, probably, call forth from some one the reminder, ‘‘ By that sin fell the angels.” And yet, the word ‘‘ambition” is well defined by all the recognized authorities of the past, as the ‘‘desire of anything great or excellent,” or of ‘‘something greater than is pos- sessed.” The term is of Latin origin, derived from the word ‘‘ambio,” which means simply to go about; that verb is inno- cent enough, but the noun derived from it took a taint from its incidentally frequent applicatign to those who ‘went about,” as candidates, to seek honor or preferment for themselves. And so the word ‘‘ambition” comes down to us from the past bearing witness that the predominant aspirations of our race have been worldly and selfish. The plain, inoffensive old word, 8 with life in its heart, has been subjugated to this use, forced, by the course of events, to bear testimony that the human soul, capable originally of rising Godward, just as “‘fire, ascending, seeks the sun,” has been perverted by selfishness, and held fast in the bondage of low desires. Christianity,“ ruling in the heart as a new life from God, does not quench ambition, but purifies it, elevates it, and imparts to it a right direction. Paul recognizes it as an uplift- ing power when he says (2 Cor. v. 9, as it has been truly regdered): ‘‘We make it our point of honor to be approved of Christ ;” just as any loyal soldier might say, I make it my point of honor to win the approval of my commander, and be qualified for promotion to a higher range of services. This teaching of the apostle is in harmony with the spirit of the great Teacher, as expressed in the words quoted from his conversation with his disciples. He recognized ambition as a living force, an incentive to action; but seeing it perverted to mere self-seeking, he showed that there was no real greatness in that, and that he would concentrate it upon an aim truly worthy, identical with his own; to be realized in uplifting others, net in putting them down—in serving them, not in “‘lording it over” them, even in the joy of a self-sacrificing love; for ‘‘the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many.” 9 What though this teaching was opposed to the bent of their natural inclination and the popular doctrine of the world? That popular doctrine Jesus pronounced heathenish, as being in direct antagonism to the spirit and life of his kingdom. ‘“Ye know that the princes of the Gentiles exercise dominion over them, and they that are great exercise authority upon them. But it shall not be so among you: but whosoever will be great among you, let him be your minister; and he that will be chief, let him be your servant.” This idea, far above their range of thought at first, thgse men realized in life and action. To be sure, it went against the grain of their educated prejudices; their old nature would sometimes assert itself; but the Truth conquered. Their whole character was transformed, at last, so that they have left us the doctrine not only as uttered by Christ, but as translated by them into action, an example for all time. The same great lesson, we may safely say, ruled the mind and heart of Dr. Neale, and was by him translated practically into common life. Regarded objectively, as an idea, the formu- lated doctrine —true usefulness is true greatness — modified his ‘course of thinking as a guiding light. Regarded subjectively, as a sentiment, it lived within him as a secret of power. He aspired to win the benediction of the needy; to rise by serving; that was his ambition. In this direction he would fain excel. He entered the Messiah’s kingdom under the sway of this IO inspiration, and exemplified its uplifting spirit throughout his life-course. II. Let us trace the working of this principle in personal history. BIRTHPLACE AND CHILD-HOME. Years ago, Dr. Neale, recalling a recent visit to his child- home, said: ‘‘I was born in old Connecticut, and I am not ashamed of it. To my eye there are no sunnier scenes on earth than are to be found in a certain inland town called Southington, midway between Hartford and New Haven.” This feeling of the attractions of his birth-place others have shared; the beauty of the surroundings, the picturesqueness of the scenery, have been noted in the topographical surveys of the State. Here, in the old farm-house, the comfortable family-home of Jeremiah and Anna Fuller Neale, ‘‘about fifteen minutes’ walk” from the center of the village, was born, Sept. 15, 1808, the youngest of a family of ten children, and, in due time, named Rollin Heber. The parents were one in spirit and purpose, as well as in the bonds of the marriage covenant ; hence their home-life was a gentle training of their children: into harmony with their ideas as expressed by their union with the Baptist Church of Southington. That church, gath- ered in 1730, was known at first as the Baptist Church of Farmington, until a division of the old town’s territory 11 originated the name of South Farmington; and that having been abridged into Southington, the church appears in the records of 1816, for the first time, with its name as at present. After the lapse of two-thirds of a century, during the period of Rollin’s youth, it suffered a sad experience of decline, by means of exceptional difficulties, the lack of pastoral care, as well as of bereavements by death. At that time, in an impor- tant sense, the home of young Rollin became the life-center of the church itself. As the personality of the mother is ever felt as the chief factor in making the home of the child, we have reason to say that this boy Rollin, from very infancy, inhaled a home-atmosphere that ministered at once to the health and growth of his whole nature, so as to make home- memories a cheer and a charm even to the last week of his earthly existence. CHILD-FAITH AND FIRST LOVES. Among these memories, so familiar to his friends, were some that dated as far back as his fifth year; one especially, that we recall, bringing to view two faithful ministers of old Connecticut, Daniel Wildman and Samuel Miller, often guests of the Neales, accustomed to visit Southington on the same errand; namely, ‘‘to strengthen the things then remaining,” at a time when there were only four male members of the [2 church besides Mr. Neale, himself. He, burdened with a weight of care, with an anxious look, one day, put to Mr. Wildman the question, ‘‘ What will become of our church when you and Brother Miller pass away?” Mr. Wildman. answered: ‘‘ God will take care of that. Who knows but that boy may become a preacher, yet?” The saying sounded like an oracle; the child heard it, and laid it up in his heart. Two years afterward, at seven years of age, while in the prayer-closet with his mother, there seems to have been “a time of visitation, in answer to the mother’s prayer, and the boy never forgot his conscious act of self-surrender to Christ, as that of a sinner to the personal Saviour, recognizing thus a new rela- tion begun by his own heart-choice. It was a chzld’s faith ; nevertheless, it was a living power within, showing itself out- wardly in cherished tastes, in habitudes of thought and feeling that indicated an inner quickening and a transformation of character. The Bible was his companion, and the committing of Scriptures to memory was taken to, not as task-work, but as recreation ; just as if he felt and meant to exemplify the old saying, ‘“A change of work is as good asarest.” The play of his faculty in this direction was extraordinary, and the recitation of seven chapters to his mother was not uncommon as a week’s ~ allotment.* This specialty of choice attracted attention, and *The Rev. D. N. Beach, of Wakefield, has kindly furnished the following extract of a letter written in July, 1875, by Dr. Nelson Walker, to one of his sisters in Southington, a reminiscence 13 called forth from friends the saying, ‘‘ That boy was born fora preacher.” At the same time, it is worthy of note, the boys of the neighborhood, children of his own age, and considerably older, also, felt the attraction of the cheerful, buoyant spirit with which he was gifted; so that, despite his studiousness, he was, for years following, as really a favorite with the young around him as if they had known him mainly as the con- stant companion of their sports, first and foremost upon the play-ground. CHARACTER DEVELOPED BY SORROW. With such a marked individuality of taste and temperament as we have now noted, shaping his course, Rollin made quiet and regular advancement in his school-studies for the eight successive years, urged forward by a growing desire to appro- priate all the educational advantages with which his town was of 1820: ‘“‘After Raikes, in England, invented Sunday-schools, it was considered expedient that one should be established in Southington. At that time I was a little bashful boy; my mother took me to the meeting-house, and led me in, and I was put in a class with several other boys. I was badly scared, and, I believe, cried some. We were given a lesson to learn (about ten verses), and then we could learn as many extra verses in the Psalms as we chose. We got credit for extras. Josephus Hitchcock was our teacher. He would hear our lessons and extra verses, but soon found there was one boy there who, if he happened to commence with him, would repeat extra verses until time to let out, and none of the rest of us had any chance. So Mr. Hitchcock heard all but him, and let him fill out the rest of the time. I recollect that at one of the reports, he was credited with over eight hundred extra verses. This boy was Rollin H. Neale, since a Baptist minister.” 14 favored. Then, at fifteen years of age, the critical point of his youthful history was signalized, Dec. 9, 1823, by the death of his mother. She had ever been his companion, as well as his counsellor, and no words can fitly describe this first experience of real privation and _ loneliness. Through that event, however, the divine voice appealed to his spiritual nature more effectively than ever, and called into action sentiments that had been passively received long before, and had lain comparatively dormant. Left in doubt, indeed, as to the genuineness of his early conversion, on account of the lack of demonstrativeness or of recognition, he was, on a well-remembered day, in the presence of Irenzeus Atkins (then a deacon, afterward a pastor, led into the ministry by the inquirer whom he was now leading into the kingdom), expressing, in bitterness of grief, the wish that he. had as much assurance of love to God as he had’ of love to his mother. From this revelation of his inner life, as a starting- point, his struggling spirit was gently and wisely led until he could say, with all the energy of his nature, ‘““I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto him.” The transition from gloom to sunshine, from the weakness of doubt to conscious strength, was quick and clear. The New Testament was in his hand as the Lamp of God lighting his way; his feet, as he said, were ‘‘upon the Rock,” and a new song in his heart. 15 The bereaved boy, sorrowing because he had felt himself both motherless and godless, was now thrilled with a con- scious love that glowed as a fire in his bones—a heroic enthusiasm that could not but speak. MORAL HEROISM IN OPEN SELF-DEDICATION. The mental struggle having issued in triumph, he needed no urging from any one to incite him to do what he regarded as a duty, or as obedience to a plain command; and then the question of the hour was, ‘‘What doth hinder me to be bap- tized?” Just at this point of initial action there comes before us a manifestation of character that seemed as surprising to those who witnessed it, as it seems extraordinary to us in the review of it. As we have seen, the ‘home church” was weak, pastorless, at its lowest point of depression. Having been accepted as a candidate for baptism by the church at Bristol, the adjoining town, it was naturally expected that he would receive his baptism from the pastor, Rev. Isaac Merriam, at that place. But then, at Rollin’s request, arrangements were made by the Bristol pastor to baptize him at Southington, in a stream flowing through a meadow, conveniently near the village, that he might bear testimony for Christ in the presence of his friends, his school-mates and daily companions. The hour was appointed, notice given, and an assembly gathered, 16 chiefly of the young. Those school-mates had been accus- tomed, in their social meetings, debates, or literary exercises, to honor him as a leader, and were often finding occasions to call him forth in declamation or extemporaneous speech. But now a new occasion had arisen; they were gathered around one whom they loved to listen to, and an address interpreting the action and making it vocal with appeal, was a matter of course. It was a marvelous sight, that youthful assembly gathered near a boy of sixteen speaking to them from the water by an act symbolizing the first truths of Christianity, and then preaching to them his first sermon from the water’s edge. | Thus young Neale openly entered the kingdom of Christ; and as now, from our point of view, after the lapse of more than half a century, we look back upon that scene, his style of action appears sublime, his spirit heroic, his new ambition prophetic, and his aspiration to serve and save others a divine impulse, giving tone to a’ character that was then and there unconsciously inaugurating the work of a life-time. The effect invested it with an historical dignity, followed as it was bya revival of religion that renewed the youth of the old church, and brought young Rollin’s spiritual guide, Deacon Irenzeus Atkins, into the pastorate wherein he has ‘‘won a good degree,” and an honored name that is ‘‘better than great riches.” In view of the greatness of issues from weak 17 beginnings, baffling human calculations, the case seems with- out parallel in the annals of our time in New England. EDUCATIONAL HELPS. The main question as to the object of a life-pursuit having been settled in an unexpected manner, the chief matter of deliberation now related to the means of obtaining the kind of education suited to his needs. During the five years’ in- terval between seven and thirteen years of age, the influences of common-school teaching and home education had been happily combined. Here his course was arrested; how could he advance another step? Fortunately for Rollin there was at Southington an academy, originated and sustained by pri- vate enterprise, under the care of trustees—the kind of insti- tution that, taking rank between the public school and the college, is exactly adapted to meet the needs of an aspiring youth, and help him to extend his studies beyond the range , of the common school toward those of the college curriculum. 3 At the same time the Rev. David L. Ogden, pastor of the Congregational Church, the leading religious organization of the town, had been taking a kindly interest in him, so that arrangements for a course of instruction had already been talked over before the day of the baptism. After that occurrence 18 Mr. Ogden remonstrated with him for his audacity in arranging for the administration of his baptism so far from the vicinity of the Bristol church, which he had joined, and in the presence of his young people, who had been attracted by the ordinance to listen to his address. Rollin vindicated himself, affirming his | loyalty to Christ, who had commanded ‘‘ confession before men,” and had warned all of the danger of ‘‘ being ashamed” of him, avowing an abhorrence of all cowardice, and his interest in the spiritual welfare of his companions. Afterward, on reflection, it seemed to him that some particular expressions that he had uttered were objectionable; immediately he sought. an opportunity to offer an apology to Mr. Ogden for a degree of undue excitement. The heart of the good man was touched by this manifestation of character, and he quickly responded, ‘““Well, well, I was more to blame than you.” From that moment they sustained to each other the relation of a true and life-long friendship. Mr. Ogden was not only faithful to him as a teacher, but tenderly sympathetic, caring for his welfare as for that of a younger brother. He was a large- souled man, a scholar and a writer, of whom Rev. Dr. Upson said, in a public address: ‘‘His course of sermons on the subject of ‘Baptism’ might well be republished. The volume is a clear, condensed, most effective discussion of a controverted topic.” He was the leader of the community in educational as well as in religious interests; a successful preacher of the 19 gospel; and in labors of love, here specially mentioned, the benefactor of us all. AN UNEXPECTED START FOR COLLEGE. Not far from this time, in 1825, when Rollin, thus earn- estly studious, at seventeen years of age, had become hopeful of his future, the question of ‘“‘ ways.and means” in regard toa collegiate edusation came up in the family, fairly and squarely, calling for immediate decision. Rollin broached the subject, . one night, in a talk with his father, whose wisdom and ability he thought would be equal to the occasion. His disappoint- ment was bitter when assured by his father that he had no resources at command, and could not help him even to ‘“‘take a good start,” in the faith of finding the needed means. He retired to his chamber. He wept. His tears were effective ; aid came unexpectedly. His older brother and companion, Jeremiah, was moved by sympathy, and inspired to act. He told Rollin at once that he had in store one hundred dollars; namely, eighty dollars, and a silver watch worth twenty — that he might have it all, start for Columbia College, Washington, and see what he could do. The offer was accepted; the journey to Washington, partly pedestrian, and a year’s study in the preparatory department, were fully achieved, with a degree of success as to seif-support that gave him a new idea of his ‘‘ possibilities.” 20 ANOTHER TRANSITION FROM GLOOM TO SUNSHINE. At the close of that collegiate year, however, Rollin returned to Southington without any clearly defined plan as to his course for the year following. The college itself had reached a sharp crisis of its financial history, struggling under the pressure of debt. Still, faith prevailed. He would wait and watch. He did not wait long. In a letter addressed to a friend, there came a message from Rev. Luther Rice, in these words: ‘‘Tell the young man to come to Columbia College, Washington City, and I reckon we shall be able to put him through.” Thus encouraged he found his way to the Capital; and, ere long, having entered the Freshman class, his aim well defined, his ses now clear, the fight with poverty did not daunt him. WASHINGTON AS A PLACE FOR UNIVERSITY EDUCATION. To a young student whose heart is set upon a main en¢ of action, calling forth into free play the best that is in him day by day, Washington offers, of itself, many of the advan- tages of a great university. With its various lectureships, professional and popular, its Smithsonian Institute, Congres- sional Library, and the occasional discussions within the Capitol of questions that infold the fortunes of the nation for all time, aL it is to-day, in an important sense, not merely a political and social, but also a scientific and literary center. There is no better place upon the continent for one, capable of self-im- provement, to combine the advantages of studying at once books and men. And, surely, of representative men, the United States never had a grander array in the national Capitol than at the time of our young student’s entrance there, in the year 1825, when Webster, Clay and Calhoun led the Senate. Of all those intellectually stimulating influences Rollin H. Neale was susceptible ; for more than half a century he enjoyed the memory of the celebrated debate between Webster and Hayne, more effectively aided as a popular speaker by observ- ing those great examples than he could have been by any amount of artistic teaching. THE COLLEGE FACULTY CHARACTERIZED. At the same time the Faculty of the college was composed of men who were capable of exerting a potent sway within their own proper sphere, and of holding the students to the par- ticular studies prescribed by the college. Rev. William Staughton, D.D., who, in his early years, was eminent as a classical teacher, and afterward more eminent in the pulpit as Lhe Prince of Orators,’ was president; Irah Chase, D.D., afterward senior professor at Newton Theological Seminary, PLE: distinguished as an exegete (interpreter) of the Hebrew and Greek Scriptures; William Ruggles, LL.D., who was steadily at his post, with his heart in his work, more than fifty years ; Alexis Caswell, D.D., late president of Brown University, professors. The scholars, James D. Knowles, biographer of Roger Williams and Mrs. Ann Hasseltine Judson, and the first editor of the Christzan Review, the gifted and cultured Henry K. Green, together with Thomas I. Conant, — now a name of world-wide authority in Hebrew and Greek criticism, —were tutors. Against the union of forces put forth by such an array of effective educators, the temptations of the Capital in the direction of mental dissipation could not prevail. There was ever a product of good scholarship and of “sound learn- ing”’ under their care. Hence while our young student, fresh from the rural districts, was keenly alive to the stimulations of his new surroundings, and while his popular gifts opened to him new fields of Sabbath work whereby he could earn a part of his own support, the intellectual and moral influence of such a faculty proved itself an adequate regulator of his mental energies, and a sufficient safeguard against their being scattered and wasted. BEGINNING OF A LIFE-LONG ACQUAINTANCESHIP. It was while Rollin was pursuing his second journey to Washington, just now referred to, in the autumn of 1826, 23 , joyous in health and hope, that he lingered a day or two in the city of New York, and on a Tuesday evening sought for the regular vestry lecture of the Oliver Street Church, then under the pastoral care of Rev. Dr. Spencer H. Cone. There I saw him for the first time as I rose to deliver from the desk ”) what was called a ‘‘trial sermon;” the question as to a formal recognition of my call to the ministry having already been propounded to the church, by the pastor, soon after my grad- uation at Hamilton, College, Clinton, N. Y., whence I was to proceed as a candidate for entrance to the Theological Seminary at Princeton, N. J. The young stranger was in company with one of the deacons, and sat, near the desk, directly before me. At once, of course, his fine physique arrested my attention, and I have never forgotten that his genial nature and sympathetic interest, shining forth from his countenance and manner, became to me a real support, so that his presence was, of itself, an inspiration. There is such a thing as an art of hearing, as well as of speaking, and every speaker knows that a good hearer is an acquisition. At the close of the service I was made acquainted with him. As he stood there, so tall and stately, I looked up to him with the feeling that he was my senior. What was my surprise to learn that he was forty days my junior! Upon that hallowed spot began a relation of friendship never interrupted even unto the latest moment of his existence upon earth. 24 ACHIEVEMENTS OF STUDENT LIFE. During the succeeding years of college life, young Neale’s difficulties became, in the long run, effective helpers, calling into full play his faculties of brain and limb, developing all his resources of strength, —alternating at times from the digging of word-roots to the piling of board for the lumber trade, —so that in the year 1830 he graduated with the first honor in a class whose recorded names show no lack of the best rivalry. In the autumn of 1830 he entered Newton Theological Seminary; and as it happened that I had been called away from the recently accepted professorship of Greek in Georgetown College, Kentucky, to minister to the First Baptist Church of Boston, near the close of that year we met again, after a four years’ interval, on the evening of Feb. 3, 1831, at my installation service. He was then twenty-two years of age, already happily related, as a preacher, to the young Baptist church at South Boston, “paying his way,” as he had done by his Sunday services at the Navy-Yard Church in Washington, where his ministry was associated with reminiscences that cheered his whole life-time; particularly the baptism of a noble young man, a kindred spirit, whom the churches of Massachusetts long ago learned to recognize and honor as Rev. Samuel B. Swaim, D.D.; and also that of Leonard A. Grimes, who rose from the condition of a slave, 25 to that of a recognized leader, teacher and preacher, and stood forth, while pastor of the Twelfth Baptist Church in Boston, the trusted guide of his own people, the wise and bold co- worker with the representative men of the nation in the days of its peril, the devoted friend of Dr. Neale, until death parted them for a season. STUDENT AND PREACHER-~—-NEWTON AND SOUTH BOSTON. Thus from the day our young student left Southington for Washington, in order to seek an education for the ministry, to the day.of his graduation at Newton, in 1833, the review of his life called forth thanksgivings that he had been following, step by step, the beck of Providence, and had seen all dreaded obstacles giving way before him, the ‘“‘crooked things made straight, the rough places plain.” His informal connection with the church at South Boston seemed to the people there to have almost grown of itself into a pastorate, or an old- fashioned life-settlement. He had won the faith and love of old and young alike; and so, at the ending of his course at Newton, their habit of speaking appeared to recognize a pastorate of three years’ standing. His installation occurred Sept. 15, 1833.. Of those who officiated on that occasion, I alone am left. It fell to my lot to offer the Introductory Prayer; the Sermon was delivered by Rev. James D. Knowles ; 26 the Prayer of Installation was offered by Rev. Dr. Howard Malcom; the Hand of Fellowship by Rev. Dr. Baron Stowe; and the Address to the Church by Rev. Dr. Sharp. The Hymn for the occasion was composed by Rev. Samuel Francis Smith, since known and honored as the author of our “ Na- tional Hymn,” who, indeed, we are glad to say, still lives on earth, significantly distinguished as the ‘“‘ Poet Laureate” of the people. | MARRIAGE AND HOME-LIFE. ‘A momentous step in the life of a young pastor is the establishment of a home; and to that ‘“‘coming event,” as now in order, all eyes were turned. In that direction, too, he felt assured that he was divinely led, the old proverb of the ‘Hebrews’ palmy days, ‘‘A good wife is from the Lord,” seem- ing verified in his experience. Was there ever an adaptation to the highest aims and the minutest needs of lfe more perfect? Miss Melissa Yale, daughter of William Yale, Esq., of Meriden, Connecticut, four years younger than himself, had received at New Haven, under the care of Rev. Dr. Crosswell, and at Bradford, Mass., under the teaching of Miss Hasseltine (sister of Mrs. Ann H. Judson), as complete an education as New England institutions could supply. Gifted by nature with a love of knowledge, and social qualities that wouid have ren- dered her a power in any community, she avowed herself a 27 disciple of Christ in early youth, and was baptized by Rev. William Bentley (widely known throughout Connecticut as “Father Bentley”), at eighteen years of age. United in marriage to Mr. Neale, Sept. 26, 1833, her home-life of twenty-one years’ duration, we may truly say, is, even now, to many living witnesses, a treasured memory. Her efficiency in the mission circles, in children’s circles, as well as in other gatherings of old and young, was extraordinary; and the munificent hospitality whereof her home was the center, realized one’s best conception of the degree to which social power may be made a gospel to win hearts, educate the affections, and realize ‘“‘the days of heaven upon the earth.” ‘Her husband’s keen feeling of this has sometimes put itself forth in words that reminded us of Cowper’s picture of a scene of home-life, where the family group, the glowing urn and steaming ‘‘cup of tea” figure in the foreground, sug- gesting pleasures and ethéreal influences that can be imagined better than expressed. BRIEF MINISTRY AT NEW HAVEN. Pleasant as were the relations of Mr. Neale to the church of South Boston, the love he cherished for his native State opened his heart to the call from New Haven, sent by the Baptist Church, then comparatively weak, but bravely strug- 28 gling to hold its own, and gain more. It was an appeal to his public spirit and his denominational sympathies. He accepted. His ministry, glowing with youthful life, was immediately effec- tive, and one of its memorable issues was the leading of Phineas Stowe forth from the church into the ministry, and at last into that Bethel-work in Boston which has made his name conspicuous in the annals of Christian philanthropy. Never- theless, Mr. Neale’s ministry in ‘‘dear old Connecticut’’ was not destined, as he had dreamed at first, to be life-long. The special combination of forces in his nature that marked out his individuality, the Head of the Church had use for elsewhere; and ere long that ‘‘historic sense” that always asserted itself, that quick discernment of the meaning of the past, and just appreciation of all that was noteworthy in the characters of those that have lived before us, were to find scope by his being transferred from the care of a young church to the charge of the oldest of our order in the metropolis of New England. CALL TO BOSTON. As it fell to my lot to have a share in the proceedings connected with this issue, a brief reference to the sequence of events may be fitting, here. Early in the year 1837, Rev. Dr. Wayland, formerly pas- tor of the First Church, then President of Brown University, 29 visited me, bearing a call to the pastorate of the First Baptist Church of Providence, R. I. This cal}, after appreciative consideration, was declined. Three months passed away; the president then came with another call, and said, after stating his reasons, ‘“‘“You must take it,” speaking with a voice that we younger ministers recognized as a voice of authority, while we all looked up to him so deferentially. Thus the transfer was made, on my part, from the First Church in Boston to the First in Providence, under a sense of obligation to obey what appeared to be a divine overruling; and -so, after various friendly conferences, it was my heart’s desire that Rollin H. Neale might be called to the vacated pulpit. That hope was realized speedily, and it was my joy to greet him as pastor, and to preach the sermon pertaining to his inauguration, Sept. 27, 1837, from the Epistle of Paul to the Philippians (i. 12): ‘‘But I would ye should understand, brethren, that the things which happened unto me _ have fallen out rather unto the furtherance of the gospel.” A few days after my return to my new field, a letter came to hand from my successor in Boston, full of pleasant reminiscences, and urging me to make myself at home, as much as possible, in friendly visitations to the ‘‘dear old church,” assured that my doing so would be of mutual benefit. Fitly was it said by one who read that communication, ‘“Be- hold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile.” Soe. ‘“THE SITUATION” IN 1837. Dr. Neale was foe in the prime of his power. He was not a stranger to the field upon which he had entered. Never was a man more happy in the appreciation of his surroundings, in his keen sense of their adaptedness to bring out the best that was in him; to furnish scope, indeed, for his immediate aims and highest aspirations. It was an era of union, of denominational peace and progress, of revivals of religion, — of missionary. concerts and spiritual ingatherings.. The old vestry of the First Church was a true Bethel; not merely in the etymological sense of that word, ‘House of God,” but in its more modern sense, a rallying-point for the sons of Zebulon, as ‘‘ Father Taylor” used to denote the men of the sea; for, as then the time of Phineas Stowe was not yet, as there was no organism of the type he came to set up, many of the class he represented, from the shores of Cape Cod and along the New England coast, would somehow drift toward that corner, and find themselves at home in the prayer- place of the old First Church, where men of business from the wharf-stores and the ship-yards would make the walls familiar with prayers for the sailors. Hence the life-long sym- pathy of Dr. Neale with the Bethel work, his unflagging codperation with Mr. Stowe, and with his effective successor, Mr. Cooke, may be traced to the divinely ordered combination cP of circumstances that nourished these elements of his life- power and this fruitage of his work. Among the memorials of Dr. Neale, let it be written that through the agency of two men, to whose spiritual needs he ministered, and whom he drew to Boston as fellow-workers in the common cause, he sent forth saving influences that encircled the earth; namely, Leonard A. Grimes, a leader of his race, who, trusted by all the races, had power with God and man; and Phineas Stowe, whose power as a winner of souls is yet realized in the ports of every continent and ‘“‘afar off upon the sea.” REUNION AS CO-WORKERS. After three years of Dr. Neale’s ministry in Boston had passed away, while the First Church was enjoying a high degree of prosperity, the aggressions of trade were driving the family life away from the neighborhood of the Federal Street Church, rendering the location valueless as an ecclesi- astical position, and a change of place necessary as the condi- tion of a future career. A new church-edifice seemed a prime necessity. The working out of this defined aim having been proposed to me, I accepted it as an enterprize adapted to concentrate upon a worthy end elements of moral force that might otherwise be wasted. Thus, entering upon the pastoral care of that church, in 1840, Dr. Neale and myself 22 were brought into the pleasant relation of neighbors and co-workers for a decgde of years following. That very year the new church-edifice, in Bowdoin Square, was opened auspiciously ; and then, ere long, under the ministry of Rev. Robert W. Cushman, D.D., was felt as the source of a new power acting upon the religious life of West End. A NEW ERA OF THEOLOGICAL DISCUSSION. That year signalized, indeed, an era of intellectual awakening in the direction of theology. Never, within the experience of the passing generation, had there been a popular interest so intense and extensive in the discussion of religious questions. Theodore Parker, comparatively a young man, minister of a Unitarian church in Roxbury, was drawing crowds within the city to listen to his denials of the old theological positions of the Unitarians, such as had been maintained by Dr. Channing, as to miracle and the super- natural element in Christianity. At the same time a fresh spirit of revivalism, taking a tone of extraordinary earnestness from the distinctive ministrations of Rev. Jacob Knapp, was actually agitating great masses of people, so that Dr. Channing was led to reconnoiter the movement by personally listening to him, and said to some of his excited opponents: ‘‘That man is doing good; let him alone!” Dr. Kirk, too, was then 33 preaching in Boston, as an evangelist, preparing the way for his settled ministry, appreciated and wefcomed by evangelical Christians as a gifted orator and teacher, meeting the needs of the new class of inquiring minds, and having a special mission to fulfill. An intensified spirit of independent thought was abroad ; to a greater extent than ever the discussion of doctrines was free and earnest, comparatively without rancor or the rasping of sectarian conflict. For several years the issues were clearly marked: on the one hand the elements of free thought, so called, were unified and formulated by Theodore Parker, as their recognized exponent; while, on the other hand, there was the impartation of a fresh vitality to evangelical religion, the revival of personal faith, and large accessions to the membership of the whole body of evangelical churches. CONCERT OF ACTION IN CHRISTIAN WORK. During this period Dr. Neale was busily employed in meeting the immediate demands of his own home-field, or at times acting, in concert with Dr. Kirk, in special movements to extend the kingdom of Christ into the homes and hearts of the people. These two men were congenial spirits; travel- ing companions in the Old World, fellow-workers in the New; 34 constituted very differently, indeed, yet mutually supplement- ing deficiencies and working in unity. The spirit of religious inquiry thus extraordinarily awakened continued for successive years to give tone to doctrinal discussion, public or private, and to reveal its subtle forces demonstratively in accessions to the churches that were practically united in the promotion of revivals of religion. The effect was twofold: 1, The free dévelopment of latent disbelief into logical, antithetical issues. 2, A quick- ening into new life of those diffused sentiments of evangelical religion that had seemed too weak for self-assertion. At this period Dr. Neale’s field of action was more widely extended than ever before; and to its various phases of character his distinguishing qualities of mind and heart, of habit and manners, seemed a specialty of adaptation. He was at his best. HIS SPHERE WIDENED ABROAD. In tracing out any notable life-course, it is instructive to observe how strangely new or unexpected occasions arise to bring out what there may be ina man of adaptation to special services or exceptional needs, so that they appear to have been prearranged as a means to an end. Then we are apt to say, “‘The man was born for that time;” or, ‘‘ His opportunity was waiting for him.” A like thought suggests itself in connection s aD with Dr. Neale’s European tour, in 1843, when he was led ‘*so providentially”’ to visit the persecuted Baptists then rising in Stuttgart, in the kingdom of Wurtemburg, and in Copen- hagen. At the latter place he was sadly disappointed by learning that Rev. Mr. Oucken, of Hamburg, and Dr. Hoby, of Birmingham, Eng., whom he expected to meet there, had been summoned before the police as soon as they had arrived; that Mr. Oucken, already proscribed, had been sent back to Hamburg; and that Dr. Hoby, having been for- bidden to remain except on condition that he would neither preach nor baptize, nor say anything to any person on the subject of religion which should have any tendency, either directly or indirectly, to make converts to the Baptist faith, had returned with his companion. Dr. Neale says, in his let- ter stating the case: ‘“‘It now came to my turn to appear before the police. I met with scarcely less favor. The police detained me until nine o’clock, Saturday night, questioning me about my faith, and the design of my present visit. I told them that I was a Baptist minister from Boston, United States of America. ‘Well, my good sir,’ said the head-man of the police, ‘what has brought you to Copenhagen?’ ‘Why, sir, | have come to comfort my brethren in Israel: no harm in that, I hope.’ He shrugged his shoulders, and said, ‘You can’t stay, sir, unless you promise neither to preach nor admin- ister the ordinance of baptism.’ I told him I had wo" special Sool 36 objection to those conditions, provided I might be permitted to ¢za/k with my brethren on the subject of religion. ‘Oh, well,’ said he, ‘you may talk as much as you choose. We, in Denmark, are a people that don’t make a fuss about little things!’ Thus ended the conference.” To any one who can recall from memory the image of Dr. Neale, his regal physzque, his expression in movement and manner of manly dignity, greatness of soul, keen insight, and a childlike guilelessness incapable of anything mean or dishonorable, it will be evident that in this contest he gained a victory, and actually prompted the civil authority, from mere shame, to concede liberty in the interest of true manliness. NEW PLANNINGS FOR THE FUTURE. The return of Dr. Neale was hailed with a true home- welcome, emphasized by the press generally. He had been physically renovated abroad, and now he was refreshed at home by the signs of sympathy and ‘‘a mind to work” prophetic of prosperity. For a series of years, to the tenth anniversary of his ministry in Boston, these signs were verified. In our retrospective view that first decade seems epochal. At its ending, soon afterward, the crisis in the history of the parochial fortunes announced itself, requiring of the leaders more direct attention to planning for the future. Already ay family life was fast receding from the neighborhood, to create new homes in the direction of the Boston Highlands, and was so rapidly vacating its time-honored seats in the sanctuary, as to show that the old family heritages must be lost entirely, or that the church-home and the family-home, so long joined together, must be kept from drifting asunder. THE PAROCHIAL CRISIS. And yet to many others—the older class—the issue seemed hard to meet. They hoped that it would have been deferred during the little left of their lifetime! Of course, no one could be more concerned in the agitation of the question than Dr. Neale himself. He was young enough, in studying up the question of a new church-home as his work- ing-centre, to be thinking ahead at least a third of a century. With that idea as a guiding light he saw the necessity, in case the old parochial area that had taken North End within its limits were to be left far behind, of ‘‘ crossing the Common,” so as to attract all those elements of strength that had been drifting southward. This idea shaped his earlier plannings. It had been his hope that when he and the pilgrim band should leave the old church-homestead, to seek a habitation that might be left as a heritage, they would be led at once to their abiding rest upon the south-side plain; but when he saw that the 38 elders of the host lingered upon the north-side hill, and prayed that they might tarry there, he recognized a divine overruling, ‘‘accepted the situation,” and rose to the high plane of faith where Moses stood amid the disappointments of his pilgrimage—permitted to behold the end of Israel’s journey, but denied the honor of direct and immediate leadership. Nevertheless, Dr. Neale’s prophetic convictions were ver- ified by time, even before the close of the third decade of his ministry, and he lived to cross the south-side border with the people, in order to see accomplished, at last, what he would fain have welcomed first —the entrance of the old historic First Church upon that south-side field where ‘“‘the generations to come” shall surely gather, shall take note of our own times as a transition period of the old past, and trace God’s hand in every movement as we are wont to do in the leadings forth of Israel ‘‘by ways they had not known.” FAREWELL SCENES BRIGHTENED. The time for the farewell service in the old edifice (on the corner of Hanover and Union Streets) came, as it seemed to the many aged, alas! too soon, —April, 1854,— while to the young it was a ‘‘hope long deferred.” At that service the throng was great. Never did Dr. Neale appear more fitly in a? place as an anointed leader of the people, counselling, strength- ening, cheering, inspiring all, young and old, alike. . Akin in Spirit and in work, there, at his side, was the loving sharer of his hopes, wiping away so aptly the tears of the aged and infirm, who feared they were too weak to ascend that hill on Somerset Street, whence the spire of their new church-home could be seen afar. Among her last services on earth was the diffusion of genial sunshine around those mothers and sisters who, living in the past, needed just then the touch of a helping hand, and that cheer /of Christlike tone, ‘‘ Fear not!” THE DEDICATION FESTIVAL DARKENED. | How darkly shaded was the contrast between the gleams of cheer from her sunny spirit, that illumined those farewell scenes, and the gloom that was cast over the dedication festival of the new edifice by the visitation of death that was announced, so unexpectedly, Tuesday, Jan. 2, 1855, and appropriated the set day of the festival as the day of her funeral. Saddening, indeed, was the sight of that bereaved group of five children —the two youngest, an only son of eight years and a little girl of six years of age —so suddenly left motherless. To the husband, so dependent, what a bewildering mystery! It wasa keen trial of character. He rose superior to depression, by the power of a loving faith, quickened by sympathy with the AO spirit of the departed one, who had left the earth breathing benedictions like an angel called homeward, and yet still — “hovering around.” Could he droop in loneliness, or faint in weakness, while touched by so fresh a memory that made her still a living presence? SIGNIFICANCE OF THE DEDICATION-SERVICE. No. The dedicatory festival found Dr. Neale in a condition of bereavement very different indeed from what he had anticipated, but uplifted to a higher plane of Christian experience, and all alive to the calls and the significances of the occasion. Never, perhaps, did he appear more truly himself, at his best, than he did at the opening of 1855, in delivering the dedicatory discourse, selecting as his theme a central doctrine of Christianity, ‘‘The.Priesthood of Christ,” as set forth,in the epistle to the Hebrews (Heb. x. 19-21); first of all comprehensively stating it, then treating it practically, tracing its influence upon the Church, the institutions of public worship, the Sabbath, the sanctuary, also the Christian min- istry, calling, moreover, for fidelity to this doctrine of Christ as a source of spiritual vitality and a life-power in the building up of character. Among the illustrations, the career of Dr, Chalmers figured impressively. This chosen subject of the first sermon delivered in the new edifice, was designed to sound : AI the key-note of the evangelical religion that had been the life of the church and ministry through a stormy past—to hold forth the central truth expressed by the text as a banner-motto signalizing the meaning and aim of the mission yet to be fulfilled. INSPIRING INFLUENCE OF THE NEW POSITION. During the decade and a half that followed the entrance of the church into their new home upon the central height of the city, the course of events seemed, in a good degree, a progressive realization of their hopes, carrying into effect a wisely adjusted plan. The older members from the north and from the south were glad to meet each other proxi- mately half-way upon a spot that many could reach, by means of the car-routes, with comparative comfort and convenience. Dr. Neale was keenly alive to all the suggestions of his new position and its outlook. There was a fresh kiydling of enthusiasm, and all that was genial, social or hopeful in his nature seemed to put itself forth far and widely with sponta- neous energy. More than ever were his services sought asa lecturer for lyceums, or kindred institutions, as an orator for commemorative occasions, or as a preacher of the simple gospel that had been the inspiration of his early youth. Above the gloom of his darkened home, so comparatively solitary, just then, he was uplifted by the work that he loved — 42 & work that was worship, so worthy of the consecration of mind and heart. That sympathy with the spirit of Christian work was his interior life. The idea was clear to his own conscious- ness: the theme of his lecture in the Athenzeum course of 1854, was, ‘‘ Life: Natural Life, the Real as contrasted with the. Artificial.” Not long afterward — October, 1855 — we trace him in Chicago, where he delivered an address, that was put forth in pamphlet form, indicating ‘“‘ The Bearings and Tendencies of American Institutions upon Romanism amongst us.” The tone of that address was defiant toward Romanism, emphasiz- ing the sentiment that ‘‘the Papist in his hopes, as well as the Protestant in his fears, mistakes the genius of our Govern- ment and the character of our people altogether.” SPIRIT OF THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE, HARVARD UNTV2nerliy This high-toned fearlessness, this supreme faith as to the > issues of the contest with the Papal Power in America, sug- gested the selection of his theme for the Dudleian lecture delivered at Cambridge, in 1857, and shaped his peculiar treat- ment of it. That lectureship, founded by Paul Dudley, son of Gov. Joseph Dudley, for the pupose of setting forth, year by year, ‘‘The errors of the Church of Rome,” had been well sustained, in accordance with the ideal of its founder, and was of itself, by its title and limitation, the recognition of » 43 an antagonism adapted to awaken a fear that would usually seek relief by emphasizing points of weakness. Naturally, a lecturer accepting an appointment to such a specialty would be inclined thus to do. But then, as in this direction Dr. Neale knew no fear, he was prompted by his intellectual | courage to ‘“‘get out of old ruts’—to approach the formidable system more closely, to analyze it more minutely, and indicate the sources of its strength, the interior points where lay “the hiding of its power.” So effectually was his aim achieved, that, when the Papal press complimented the perspicacity that made him ‘“‘master of the situation,’ there were old friends who expressed a fear that he himself had been overawed, if not overmastered, and questioned whether there were in his nature aught of that ssthetic sympathy with the artistic attractions of the medizval worship that had drawn others, strong and weak alike, to seek the realization of their ideals before the Romish altar. Nevertheless, he could say with Roger Williams, ‘“‘I know the rocky grounds of my strength.” In reconnoitering and reporting the positions of an opponent, he not only felt himself bound to be truthful, but that he could afford to be generous and knightly as to the style and spirit of his treatment. The delivery of this lecture furnished Harvard University the occasion for honoring Dr. Neale with the degree of Doctor of Divinity. 44 TWENTY-FIFTH YEAR OF SETTLEMENT. Thus progressive in the spirit of manifold Christian work, Dr. Neale and the church signalized, in the year 1862, the twenty-fifth anniversary of his pastorate, by a special celebra- tion. The quarter of a century’s record was read by Daniel P. Simpson, Esq.; honorable mention was made of former workers, as, for instance, of Michael Webb, Esq., who officiated as clerk at the time of the call and the inauguration; and the day was observed in the spirit of a Thanksgiving festival. TWO HUNDREDTH ANNIVERSARY OF THE FOUNDING OF THE CHURCH. Not long afterward the thoughts of all were turned toward a great historical occasion then approaching; namely, the second centennial anniversary of the founding, in 1665, of the First Baptist Church in Boston. Many of the fathers and mothers who had passed away, often expressed the wish that they might be permitted to see that day—to mingle with the audience that would be gathered as representative of the succeeding generation, and listen to the annals that would be rehearsed in their hearing. Those whose thoughts reached so far, appreciated Dr. Neale as a man for the time, gifted with a fine historic sense that would enjoy the opportunity to 45 collate and unify the facts of the marvelous story in sympathy with its spirit; and, perhaps, as having been called into office, like Ezra, with a regard to this very purpose —the serving of the generations to come, by the testimonies of his recording pen. Had he believed himself specially commissioned for the task, he could not have devoted himself to it more lovingly or effectually. Indeed, we may fitly affirm that the accomplishment of this task was the fulfillment of a long-cherished hope, without -the realization whereof he were not content to die. No aim just then could have engaged him more profoundly. What object of thought, to one so responsive to all that is grand or sublime in human history, could have taken a deeper hold upon his great nature than the fortunes of an humble band, pil- grims and strangers for conscience’ sake among those who were already pilgrims and strangers upon this continent, yet among these as representatives of the New-Testament religion of the first century, putting forth no other creed or standard of faith, and thence charged with demoralizing laxness of doc- trine, standing ‘‘compact together” through the ages, despite all the abandonments around them of first loves and first beliefs, despite all the secularization of churches by making membership a birth-heritage, like the title to land, and thus marching along to the end of a second century in pristine unity, to sound out as fit tribute to the unifying Word and 46 Spirit, the song-testimony, at once old and new, “‘ As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end, Amen?” Alive to the significance of the testimony and the prophecy, Dr. Neale was ambitious of the honor of standing forth as their interpreter, recognizing it as his pride and joy to say to all “there gathered,” ‘Of the distinctive truths that our fathers affirmed in the face of principalities and powers, and sealed with the blood of self-sacrifice, not one hath perished or been lost from our keeping unto this day.” RETURN OF PEACE AND THE CHEERING OUTLOOK. The celebration of the two hundredth anniversary of the church was nearly coincident, chronologically, with the close of the war. Thus the relation of Dr. Neale’s long pastorate to the era of peace, seems analagous to that of his great pred- ecessor, Dr. Stillman, at the end of the Revolutionary con- flict; for, to both, the return of peace rendered the several succeeding years, of themselves, as comparatively a Thanks- giving festival, opening, through a clarified atmosphere, a hap- pier outlook and widening fields of manifold service. In all that pertained to his individuality, Dr. Neale fitly represented the motherly sentiment of the mother-church to the younger growths of the Commonwealth. They were, in a sense gen- ealogically, her offspring; and we may truly say that the fine 47 physique and benign expression of her pastor, were welcomed as an apt type of the parental relation. He actualized that ideal; and whether we think of him as away from home, offering the dedicatory prayer of the Baptist church-edifice at Old Cambridge, as he did in 1870, or inaugurating the new ministry at the Bethel, in 1871, by preaching the sermon at the installation of Rev. Henry A. Cooke, or as at home, amid hosts of friends, from afar and near, celebrating the thirty-fifth anniversary of his settlement in 1872, or the thirty-seventh in 1874, in speeches that were festal songs, we recognize the heart-beat of the boy of sixteen, whose spontaneous ministry of love announced itself, in 1824, at the edge of the baptismal stream in Southington, and six years ago, on the height of old Boston, completed its uninterrupted course of half a century in all the fullness of its strength, the same loving, free-giving soul, enlarging still, ‘‘the eye not dim nor its natural force abated.” WELCOMED TO CALIFORNIA. At the time of this celebration, the Rev. Mr. Beckley, who had been recognized as associate minister since Septem- ber, 1871, was absent in Europe. He returned in the autumn of 1874, and soon afterward the journals of California announed the arrival of Dr. Neale in San Francisco. The association 48 was in session at the time, and as his coming had been tele- graphed, a committee was appointed to receive him. It was an ovation indeed. On Thursday, Oct. 18th, he was welcomed, and announced to preach on Sunday. On the last day of the session, Oct. 16th, his address was characterized as ‘“‘like a voice of inspiration, listened to with joy, while tears of tender- ness and gratitude moistened every eye.” ~ He mieituoan Francisco in the middle of October to visit the big trees of Yosemite Valley, braving the difficulties of the way in com- pany ‘‘with young men, on horseback, despite the obstacles of snow ten feet deep,” with all the energy, it was said, of a youth renewed “‘like the eagles.” He was surprised and — delighted to discover mountain scenery on our continent rivaling or surpassing the Alpine, as it appeared to him, although he had stood on Mount Rigi, both at sunrise and sunset, looking over the surrounding heights so beautifully reflected from the Lake of Lucerne. On his homeward jour- ney the whole nature of the man was overborne by the power of mountain scenery; and so, stopping at Chicago, he preached at the University Place Church, his theme being announced as ‘‘Mount Sinai and Mount Zion,” whereof it was reported that “his opening reference to the mountains of California, which he had just visited, was simply grand—and that ‘word describes the whole effort.” 49 ENTHUSIASM IN INTERPRETING CALIFORNIA'S HISTORY. The return to Boston, Dec. 10, 1874, was signalized by a warm reception, that took its peculiar tone from the intel- lectual quickening produced by Dr. Neale’s communications from California, addressed not only to the public, through the press, and to the church, but also to the Sunday-school, im- parting even to the children his own enthusiasm, enkindled by his enjoyment of nature and his feeling of the marvelous. It was in his case the overflow of brain-power, as well as heart- life; for his public discourse of California, in his own pulpit, Dec. 6, 1874, another, soon afterward, before the Young Men’s Christian Union, another still before the Providence Social Union, set forth not merely the national or political aspects of that young State, but also the significance of Californian history, and the mission of California as a factor in the world’s civilization. SEMI-CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY AT NEWTON—TYPICAL VETERAN, Six months after the return from California, Dr. Neale was reminded of the rapid flow of time by the advent of the semi- centennial anniversary of the Newton Theological Seminary, June, 1875, the occasion ranking him with the few early students of the first half decade invested with veteran dignity. 50 As yet he had no feeling of age; his sympathies with youth were keen ; he accepted the situation, and sustained it well, reveling in memories of the departed, replacing them at the festival by his vivid allusions, and pouring forth tributes of honor to teachers and co-workers who had ended their life- work, and left names that were powers for good. Far away myself, on the other side of the sea, it was a pleasure to read the description of the scene, to picture it in thought, with our friend in the foreground, a typal figure, meeting so fitly the call of that memorable hour. THE CENTENNIAL YEAR -——SIGNS OF DECLINE. The celebration of the semi-centennial anniversary at Newton, preceded by only a single year the centennial anni- versary of the National Republic; a fact indicative of the rapid religious growth of New England, in keeping with the material advancement of the country. The celebration of the nation’s Centennial over the broad Continent, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, was a great educational power, doing much in a little time toward unifying public sentiment throughout the millions of new homesteads in America, as well as enlightening the millions of the Old World as to the meaning and destination of “The Union.” To the thought of the time the great 4 - - ——; =. * 51 heart of Dr. Neale was joyfully responsive, and his voice often heard in interpreting it. It was just at this period, however, amid the general exultation, that signs of change were begin- ning to come over him; not so much of advancing age, as of disturbing anxieties as to the issues of his own ministry. He saw approaching the crisis that he had hoped would not arrive in his day —the inevitable removal of the church-home to a new position, required by the needs of the family-life that was still drifting southward, away from the old city-center. Fresh deliberations of the /old question had already taken form in propositions that must be met, ere long, by acceptance or rejection; and now how different, how doubtful appeared his relations to the church’s future from what it was twenty-three years before, when he led the way from the northern side to the summit of the central height! SENSE OF LONELINESS. More than ever, now, in this latter period of unsettled deliberation, he experienced an oppressive sense of loneliness. Ever regarding himself as a child of Providence, he had felt himself specially guided, in the month of June, 1861, when he was united in marriage to Miss Ann Elizabeth Bacon (sister of Prof. John Bacon, of Harvard University)—a’ lady remark- 52 ably qualified to uplift, cheer and strengthen his heart by genial companionship, wise counseling and generous codpera- tion in every good work. His sudden bereavement of all this happiness, in June, 1864, by the hand of death, was an extra- ordinary calamity; and though amid the surroundings of the home where her spirit still seemed to hover, and, amid the constant calls to active service, his own spirit would rally its energies anew, now, at last, stirred by new and doubtful ques- tionings coming before their time, his sense of loneliness was intense —a strange, depressing experience. Before the advent of the year 1877, it was telling its own story upon his manly physique in the subtle changes of tone, and his manner of expression ; so that in the first half of that year, after returning from a nearly two-years’ sojourn abroad, I was supplying the vacant pulpit of Shawmut Avenue, and was in the way of often seeing him, the corrosions of new cares upon his weakening nervous system was to me a revelation as clear as it was unwelcome. AGREEMENT WITH THE CHURCH ON THE QUESTION OF REMOVAL. Nevertheless, it was equally clear, in view of Dr. Neale’s strong, manly sense, that, to him, it was no matter of wonder to find the church pining for reunion with the young house- —_Y S- 53 holds of her own family, whose prosperity she had long beheld with motherly feelings. The hint of such a longing reached the Shawmut Avenue homestead; the sentiment was recipro- cated, and was expressed in the overture, ‘‘Come, now, with us, and we will do you good; for all thine was ours, and all ours is thine.” With a wisdom and forecast like that of the patriarch Jacob, when he received the invitation from young Joseph, who gloried in Israel’s historic name, and had become established in a ‘‘large and wealthy place,” the ancestral church also took counsel, and said to all pertaining to the old settlement, ‘‘ Come, now, let us tarry no longer in the house upon the hill; let us go down to the south, and ‘regard not our stuff, for the good of the land’ is before us.” In this conclusion the minister and people were united. And so, on the last Sabbath of May, the 27th day of the month, in the presence of all who constituted the union, it was Dr. Neale’s special service to trace, in the last sermon delivered by him in the Somerset Street edifice, the course of the church through the period of its twenty-three years’ life upon the hill, including within its scope the rise and progress of the younger household, on Shawmut Avenue; where, on the third day of June, all being gathered for the first Sabbath service in the new church-home, it was my lot to follow Dr. Neale’s exposition of the past, with a discourse suggestive of principles and aims pertaining to the future. ~ 54 THE FINAL SETTLEMENT — A WELCOME RELIEF FROM CARE. The deliverance from a state of mental suspense, by the determination of long-pending questions, and the increased ' securities for the transmission of the church’s name and place as a heritage of the future, were a great relief to Dr. Neale. In order to assure to both factors in the union freedom, with energy of action, he had presented his resignation of the pastoral care. His trust that he would be cared for was simple and childlike; the experience of the changes them- selves brought to him a sadness that was shared by all the pilgrim band. He was cared for. Possessed already of a permanent home for life, with the acceptance of his resignation ample provision was made for his comfort; and his relation to the church, recognized by them, as well as by his friend ~ and successor in the pastoral office, Rev. C. B. Crane, D.D., was that of the honored pastor still, modified by the course of events as to its letter and form, yet in reality the same as to essence and spirit. With the determination of all the practical questions bearing upon the future, a sense of freedom imparted a buoyancy of feeling that qualified him, more fully than had been his wont, for a season, to enjoy society and occasional work, both at home and abroad. er. 55 THE LAST SERMON. The sermon that terminated his long career as the preacher, the last that was heard from his lips, was preached in the Baptist Church of Wollaston Heights, on Sunday morning, Feb. 16, 1879, when he kindly codperated with me in obtaining aid for the Southern Baptist Mission in Rome, by occupying my place while I was speaking for the common cause in another pulpit. By request, he delivered a discourse upon a favorite subject, the text being taken from Paul’s second Epistle to Timothy (i. 9), ‘“‘The Word of God is not bound.” It was said that he evidently enjoyed the service, and spoke with his usual ease and force. On taking leave of his friends, to return to Boston, he lingered a little, as he looked forth from the Heights, to speak of the beauty of the landscape; and addressing himself to Mr. Howard Gannett, a deacon of the church, he said: ‘‘ Please say to my young friend, your pastor, that I shall be looking for him to get through his work here, and to start again in time for me to have a chance to become his successor, once more, and so take my turn in enjoying this magnificent Eden before I leave for the better land.” While surveying thus those surroundings of sea and land, the bay and the city, his intense love of nature broke forth in tones of childlike exhilaration. It may be safely said that during no following day of his life on 0) earth was there noticed the expression of so much concentrated enjoyment, physical, social and spiritual, as upon that memorable Sabbath at Wollaston Heights. Associated with this remembrance of Dr. Neale’s last sermon, is the record of his last visit to Newton, where the last words of public speech that fell from his lips were addressed to the students of the Theological Seminary. These signs of reviving spirits were delightful to us all; yet, ever and anon, forebodings of declining strength would assert themselves. It was in February, 1879, that his friends in New York gained his consent to favor them with a visit of several weeks, and during the greater part of that time he was, as they said, ‘all himself.” Thus it seemed, indeed, after his return to Boston, where, in the month of June, he had attained such a degree of strength as encouraged his undertaking, in com- pany with his brother, Mr. Alonzo Neale, a journey westward as far as Illinois. Nevertheless, after a few days’ delay in Connecticut, he became quite sure that his strength was inade- quate to the fulfillment of the programme, and he returned to Boston, where, during the remainder of the summer and the first few days of autumn, despite prevailing weakness, his occasional walks and the greetings of friends were so quickly reviving to his spirits as to awaken hopes of restoration to a good degree of health. —_—— 57 These alternations of fear and hope were continuous, as we have intimated, even to the last week of his earthly exist- ence. Then constant decrease of strength disqualified him for any kind of vocal expression, except brief responses of friendly recognition or thankfulness for kind attentions. His Spirit, in union with Christ, was already ‘‘at home” in the heavenly state; and on the 18th of September, the faint, final respiration indicated that he was ‘‘absent from the body and present with the Lord.” III. And now, having traced in outline, from its begin- ning to its earthly end, a completed life-course, let us consider for a few moments the CHARACTER it has set forth as a living individuality ‘‘known and read of all men.” PARTIAL CHARACTERIZATION. In taking a retrospective survey of an object so many- sided as a protracted public career, we naturally attempt to summarize our view of its qualities in some brief expression that tells the whole story of an inner life, in a word or two. Thus, of old, a distinguished officer of ‘‘The Restoration” was characterized by Nehemiah as ‘a faithful man, and one that feared God above many;” and so of Daniel, it was said by his 58 sovereign, ‘An excellent spirit was in him ;” while in an earlier age, the practical leaders of an administration were noted as those who ‘understood the times and the things that ought to be done.”” Thus, too, at the time of his departure, Dr. Neale was designated, both by pulpit and press, “‘The Apostle of Charity ;” a tribute of honor well deserved, generally appre- ciated, yet far from adequate to bear the responsibility of standing by itself as an exponent of the man. For, thus emphasized, it is likely to mislead by the expression of a half- truth, suggesting the predominance of the emotional nature over the intellectual to a degree of extreme sentimentalism that was not verified by the facts of life comprehended as a unity. MENTAL BALANCE. That character was, indeed, a vital unity, a continuous outgrowth from its earliest apparent germs, taking on less that was exceptional or excrescent in its development than usually betrays itself in the experience of active minds. The old saying, ‘“‘The boy is the father of the man,” asserts itself in this case; for, just as clearly as one may see that all that was most eminently distinctive in the first judge of Israel pertained to the boy Samuel, so surely may we discern the combination of all the elements of individuality that make the half century 59 of Dr. Neale’s ministry memorable, asserting itself in the boy of sixteen; who, alone, simply responsive to the Divine Word, rose superior to the prevailing sentiment of the surrounding community, confronting it with such testimonies touching the significance of his ‘‘ baptismal oath of loyalty,” publicly taken, as proved the subordination of the emotional, the sentimental and the esthetical in his nature to intellect and conscience, “under law to Christ,” recognizing his supreme authority. Broadly sympathetic though he was as a man, and as a Chris- tian man with a world-wide humanity, what he knew as religion was a revelation of divine ideas transcending nature; and the chief factor in realizing its mission upon earth was “the Word of Truth,’ apprehended by the mind, affirmed by the conscience, and ‘‘enlarging the heart” by the free play of those affections which the apostle Paul has personified as charity, or love, and, described as ‘‘rejoicing not in iniquity, but rejoicing in the truth, as bearing all things, believing all things, hoping all things.” When this characterization, a true heart-song, was read at the first to the church at Corinth, it might have seemed to some that Christianity, as an experience, was regarded by Paul as mainly a play of sentiment. Such a judgment, however, would have been quickly overruled, and that just balancing of forces, that harmony of the intellectual, | moral, and emotional elements so essential to leadership and reliable character, would have been affirmed with unanimity. Pa % 60 DR. NEALE’S IDEAL A CLEAR CONCEPTION. From the very outset of his ministerial life, this Pauline type of Christian charity, or, rather, of vital Christianity itself, was not only exemplified in Dr. Neale’s habitudes of thinking ~ and acting, but was emphasized by him with eloquent fidelity. In the year 1833 he visited Southington, his native town, to preach a sermon occasioned by the dedication of a new house of worship for the Baptist Church, the result of a series of efforts that could be traced directly to the influence of his own young ministry as the starting-point. The selection of the theme was significant; the title of the pamphlet sermon tells a story of character—‘‘ The Advantages of Difficulties.” The text was Paul’s statement of his own difficulties (Philip- pians i. 15-28), and his joy in the issues. The preacher did not compliment the little church —rather complained of their slowness ; but. he encouraged them greatly by glorifying the principles whereof they were the exponents. He congrat- ulated them upon the dying out of many unreasonable preju- dices pertaining to the olden time, and in doing so sounded the key-note of his own heart-song or inner life-thought as to charity, thus: ‘‘It is a well-known fact that it was once considered disreputable, and almost a sin, to attend the Baptist meeting. I well recollect that when I was a school-boy in this town, if any one of the boys got angry with me, and wished 61 to express more resentment than usual, after exhausting all other terms of reproach he would call me a Baptist. This, too, was the surest way to subdue me. I really felt that it was a reproach. [I advert to this fact as being an illustration of a state of things which you all know long existed. These were indeed trying, very trying times. There may be men who are regardless of the good opinion of those around them, and care not whether they are respected.or disrespected in society. But there are others who feel differently. To men of sensitive minds,/to men who respect themselves, I know of nothing more painful than undeserved reproach. But, my brethren, difficulties of this kind have their advantages. They should teach us to be careful against imbibing a prejudice against other denominations. While we remain upon the | earth, we shall often meet with men, good and wise men, who, in some of their religious opinions, differ from us. But we should remember that we differ as widely from them; and if we are unwilling that they, on this account, should treat us with disrespect and unkind feeling, we shall learn not to treat them so.” There you have the revelation of a painful experience in days of youth, and thence the outgrowth of a habitude of cautious self-restraint in speech that gave tone to his style of thought, manner, and expression for a life-time. 62 AN EXPLANATION. This review of our brother’s life-course, as a whole, com- mends itself to the attention of not a few who have interpreted him by what was merely incidental or episodical, and have thus attributed to him, at times, a sort of negative goodness lacking positive convictions. As illustrative of this statement, it may not be amiss to recur to judgments called forth by a particular tribute to his memory a hearty eulogy from the pulpit of an eminent Unitarian clergyman, a friend and neigh- bor, who characterized Dr. Neale on the Sabbath following his decease as ‘‘ The Apostle of Charity,” and, in that connection, awakening pleasant memories, alluded to the cheerful tone of his greeting and his talk on a certain morning when they met, and when, responsive to some turn of the conversation, he said, ‘‘I, too, am a Unitarian.” That fragmentary utter- ance has been quoted seriously as an indication of ‘‘a weakness for charity,” disposing one always, for the sake of union, to ignore clear ideas, or concede great principles, in the presence of all questioners, even though representatives of a mere nature-religion or liberal sentimentalism. It has been said: ‘If he spoke in that manner seriously, he spoke inconsistently with his official position; if not seriously, it was trifling with sacred truths committed to his keeping.” Far from it, O friend; the case is not so conditioned. There is here no 63 dilemma. Conversational power takes wide scope for itself, and the instincts of genius will often emphasize the original or latent sense of words for effects of its own. In interpre- tation, the modifying power of the connection is manifold. Jesus himself had occasion for the appeal on his own behalf — “Judge not according to appearance, but judge righteous judgment.” So have we, too, had such occasion for ourselves in connections similar to the one before us; for, strictly speak- ing, every sound-minded Trinitarian enjoys the right to affirm and reaffirm his hold upon the doctrine of the Divine Unity, and to put himself before others in his true or scriptural position by saying, as I have also said, and would say yet again, in kindred presence, despite sect-usage, ‘‘ Gentlemen, iecoo; am a Unitarian!” SPEAKING FOR HIMSELF. But then, the intimation that ‘‘a weakness, for charity,” in the experience of Dr. Neale, ever issued in the concealment or ignoring of doctrines that he professed to believe, may be fairly met by a kind of testimony that reveals the ruling spirit within, and shows that his manly nature, elevated by grace, was incapable of it. More than that, his rebuke of such a tendency is sharp as a two-edged sword. Hear him in words addressed to the church of his native town at the dedication of their new house of worship:— 64 “To be respectful and kind to others, however, it is not necessary that we should adhere less strictly to what we esteem Scripture truth. Valuable as is Christian courtesy, truth is still more valuable. We have no fellowship with men who, in order to raise their individual popularity with other denom- inations, shrink from an honest avowal of their real sentiments. This policy is no evidence of Christian charity, nor of liberal, manly feeling. It is fawning sycophancy. It is a shameful compromise of principle for the sake of peace—a denial of their Master for fear of crucifixion. And, after all, what do they gain by it? They may for a time meet with smiles and caresses; but the thinking part of every denomination will secretly despise them. It is our duty always to be charitable, but we should avoid hypocrisy. The mantle of Christian charity is indeed a broad covering, and we should be willing to stretch it to the utmost, that it may ‘hide a multitude of sins ;’ but there are some sins that tear through the mantle and outgrow the covering, for which we should have no charity whatever. In order to preserve peace and union, we should be willing to sacrifice everything but the truth. We should agree with our Christian brethren as far as we can; and wherein we cannot, why, we should agree to differ. Let us consider all who love our Lord Jesus Christ as friends and brethren, and treat them accordingly.” Thus, with all authority, spake this ‘‘ Apostle of Charity” 65 to those who had known his manner of life from his youth up, in words that revealed the inner life of one whose intellect and heart, whose judgment and feeling were poised with a balance so nearly even, and in a harmony so true, as to qualify him for the honor of conceded leadership, and the popular heart-trust that delights in self-surrender to sturdy, reliable character. : KEEN AND BOLD IN JUDGING. In this connection of thought we are led to observe, too, how large-souled, generous and keenly discriminating was his appreciation of those who were separated from him by social position, or antagonism of nature, or by denominational lines. How profoundly did he prize the benedictions of the poor, and how ambitious was he to be, in God’s sight, ‘‘great among them” by great services! He was as proud and happy in the thought of having led Leonard A. «Grimes into the kingdom of Christ, as he could have been if that leader among the freed- men, born a slave, had been an imperial prince of Europe; and eloquent tributes to that man’s memory at the time of his death, showed how highly Dr.*Neale regarded him as a prince in the Messiah’s kingdom. Noteworthy, too, as an index of character, was Dr. Neale’s loving estimate of Rev. Dr. Nathaniel Colver’s life-work, 66 uttered with an intense energy of expression on hearing of that strong man’s decease at Chicago, where he had found | his field of work in the Theological Seminary, after resigning his pastorate at Tremont Temple. His work in Boston was carried forward as a part of those anti-slavery conflicts that were preparing the way for emancipation and the Union. For the stormy controversies of that time, he was, by temperament, especially adapted —as much at home amid the tempest at its height, as the stormy petrel of the Atlantic. His mightily aggressive nature asserted itself to the last; and while on the bed of death he said that he desired to live a little longer, that he might strike one more blow at the ten-horned power enthroned on the banks of the Tiber. How impatient he was, sometimes, with Dr. Neale as not being always with him, armed and equipped, along his own chosen lines of battle! Yet beneath that severe exterior, Dr. Neale ever discovered the loving, Christly spirit ready for self-sacrifice at the shrine of truth, and boldly affirmed, in a commemorative address, that in true charity, Nathaniel Colver abounded as really as did Dr. Sharp, in whom that grace was so eminent. In the long look backward, that saying is seen to be just, although once contrary to all seeming; and its utterance indicated keen insight, fidelity to truth, and appreciation of underlying reality in the estimate of character. 67 ZEST FOR STUDY OF CHARACTER. Thus, too, far beyond the bounds of his own denomination, the keenly sensitive and inquisitive nature of Dr. Neale im- pelled him to extend his knowledge of human life by means of friendly relationship that would save him from being blinded by prejudice in judging men or opinions, and qualify him to coéperate with others for great, common ends. And in doing so he but grandly illustrated, with an emphasis of manner all his own, the spirit that had animated the ministry of the church that he served, during the whole period of its two centuries’ history, especially illuminating, in comparison with colonial days, the forty years of Dr. Stillman’s career. In this direc- tion, surely, he was highly gifted; his strongly marked indi- viduality was ever asserting itself, not merely by natural impulses to read or study human character in the actualities of life, but also to win from others a reciprocal appreciation of the sentiments that ruled his course of action as a man and a Christian. He craved human love. Having nothing to conceal, he looked for candor and frankness in others, and was made profoundly happy by the recognition of anything, little or much, to love and honor in,those who most widely differed from him. This happiness was intensified by his self-respect as a Christian minister; for while he was at home with the humblest, he never envied the highest, knowing well that as to official position, there were none on earth above him. 68 COSMOPOLITAN SPIRIT. In the best sense of the phrase, therefore, Dr. Neale “magnified his office.” On the day of his Graduation he spoke of its “dignity,” from first to last. Void of all ambition for any kind of promotion to a loftier position, he moved among the people of the church and the world with an case and freedom that was truly cosmopolitan. And so, we may say, this honest pride of place became an element of character that revealed itself, as occasions required, not only in words of personally friendly counseling, but in ‘“‘burning words” of remonstrance or appeal to the leaders of the people, politicians or statesmen, who were quick to recognize the supreme authority which, —as Guizot said, touching the communications of young George Washington to the government of England —always invests the simple truth called for by the necessities of the time, and inspired by the sense of duty. | HIS HISTORIC SENSE. This cosmopolitan habitude of mind was greatly strength- ened by a natural endowment, namely, the historic sense, cultivated from his early years; a gift in regard to which an English author has said that the Americans, as a people, are notably deficient. This is a true witness, as the writers of and the feeling of it was a life-power, | 69 town-histories know to their sorrow, when they have attempted to gather materials for their work. In Dr. Neale, however, this keenly appreciative historic sense grew with his growth, as an element of character and a source of power; so that he loved, honored and faithfully kept himself ‘“‘to the dear old First Church,” not only as a people who had won his affections, or were lovable in themselves, but as a historic unity, repre- senting a grand idea and a glorious past. Hence his enthu- siasm of commemoration, the spirit of life that glows in his written memorials. How he loved to tell the story of our fathers and mothers; to pay his tribute of homage to their strength, and his tribute of humorous sympathy to their weak- nesses; to trace the every-day steps of their life-path; and especially to picture Dr. Stillman, with his deacons and his sexton, as if they had been contemporaries, rendering him still a living presence! And thus, while his love to his own was quickened by historic memories, so was his interest in others around him, as individuals, families, or living organisms, repre- sentative of ideas. In this connection we may fittingly say that it was this habitude of thought, the growth of nature and education, that qualified him so well for the position to which he was called, in 1852, as preacher of the sermon usually delivered before the governor and council and the legislature of Massachusetts, at the annual election; for it was this historic sense that, as an 70 instinct of genius, indicating what the meaning of that occasion was to him, determined the choice of his subject; namely, “Religious Liberty; its Bearing upon our National Prosperity,” setting forth its hard life-battles, its victories, and the vindi- cation of its claims by the facts that tell the story of this nation’s experience. It was a calm and adequate declaration of those very principles for which Roger Williams was doomed to banishment in colonial days, of which this First Church of Boston had been, amid fiery trials, the faithful witness — prin- ciples that were not formally and fully accepted by the State of Massachusetts until 1834, three years before the beginning of Dr. Neale’s pastorate in Boston. So, at last, this discourse, this good profession of faith, religious and political, accepted by the civil government of Massachusetts, ordered to be printed and sent forth in pamphlet form, signalizes historically, as to documentary significance, THE END OF THE LONG CON- TROVERSY, the beginning of a new political dispensation indi- cating the play of moral forces destined to shape the course of history and ‘‘ make all things new.” . LOGICAL CATHOLICITY. And here we cannot but observe, throughout the whole extent of our retrospective survey of a life-course, with what directness the catholicity of Dr. Neale proceeded, not only ye: impulsively, from the depths of his emotive nature, but, we may say, logzcally, from central principles that ruled his thinking and feeling at the beginning of his career. He emphasized the doctrine of religious liberty, not as a philosophy, merely, but as primarily an essential Christian doctrine, a vital element of the Divine Teacher’s gospel. The natural tendency of such a doctrine, when heartily accepted, is the cultivation of kindly feeling toward those who differ from us, and a desire to apprehend them truthfully. This tendency he exemplified. He would not only know those who represented ideas differ- ing from his own by means of books, but by a free interchang- ing of thoughts. It was a real delight to him to step over denominational lines, and find scope for the play of his sympa- thies by conversing with, or by addressing, those outside of his ordinary beat. Thus indicating how much they had in common, he would, by ‘“‘the light of his countenance,” dispel malarious mists of prejudice, lift all to-a higher plane, aid all to master themselves, and recognize the supremacy of absolute truth.* * The love-power in Dr. Neale never failed, and won sympathy, despite all antagonisms of taste, temperament or opinion. Mr. Hardy, of Boston, having requested Dr. Neale to sit for his photo- graph, was gratified with his compliance; and then expressed a wish to avail himself of Dr. Neale’s kindness to obtain the like favor from Mr. William Lloyd Garrison, by means of a letter of introduc- tion. The Doctor promised to give the desired letter, but advised the artist to wait a few days. Meanwhile, being aware of Mr. Garrison’s unwillingness to yield to the proposal of the photogra- phist to “‘take his likeness,’’? Dr. Neale undertook to win his assent. To this end he wrote hima friendly note. He began by referring to a recent festival of Mr. Garrison’s friends at Young’s Hotel, fe INSIGHT. A. world-wide catholicity of spirit, such as is here noted, is so often associated in thdught with a certain dimness of vision as to the subtler moral elements of individuality that lie beneath the surface, and constitute the particular differences distinguishing one from another, that justice requires us to speak of Dr. Neale, in his intercourse with the world, as gifted with a keen, quick insight into the very core of char- acter. It was so much his wont to say the best that he could of all, ignoring their faults, that it is not strange that some should find occasion to say of him that he was like a man “born color-blind,’ and incapable of exact discrimination. But then, on the other hand, we must remember that men of strong antipathies and aggressive selfishness were incapable of judging “zm. He was not a ‘‘ good hater,” as some pride themselves in being; neither was his Divine Master, of whom it was written, “He £zew what was in man.” But whenso- ever occasion called him, in the way of duty, to deal with any and emphasized the heartiness with which he joined with them all in the appreciation of the great Liberator’s life-work; then, tenderly recognizing him as a life-long friend and neighbor who, like himself, had not much margin of time left for lingering amid these cherished associations, said, in regard to Mr. Hardy’s proposal: ‘‘Iif, now, the people among whom we have dwelt so long wish to retain the memory of our homely faces, pray let them do so, and let us aid them as far as we can.” Mr. Garrison replied: ‘‘ Dear Dr. Neale, let it be as you say. If the people wish to keep in memory our homely faces, let them have their own way.’? Mr. Hardy acted upon that hint, his work was accomplished, and ve have the memorial picture. + 73 human being face to face for the soul’s personal good, we may be quite sure, ere long, that soul would have an expe- rience like that of the woman of Samaria in the presence of Jesus, and be saying in thought, if not openly, He knows about ‘‘all the things that ever I did.” To those who knew him most thoroughly, all this was the most apparent; as Dr. Lorimer has fitly said, ‘‘No honest man had occasion to fear him, and no unjust person could feel quite easy in his presence.” | SPIRIT OF FORGIVENESS. This faculty of insight must be kept in view if we would apprehend the moral greatmess of his forgiving spirit. In its expression, the Christian temper was at times most touchingly realized ; for it seemed as if the greater the wrong the more readily was it forgiven, thus exemplifying the Psalmist’s ideal of what was Godlike, when he exclaimed, ‘‘Pardon mine iniq- uity, for it is great!” It was said of Fenelon, —as, indeed, it has been said of more than one, —that a sure way of calling forth his personal friendship, was to do him an injury. Akin to this was the forgiving spirit of Dr. Neale, originating, not ‘In a proud insensibility to the wrong, but in the Christly love that sorrows for the offender, and waits to bless. He preached forgiveness, and practiced what he preached. Thus he walked through this world, despite dark times, having God’s sunshine o 74 within, essentially a happy man, able ever to say the whole of | the Lord’s Prayer with a joyous spirit, assured when he prayed, ‘‘Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us,” that instead of condemning himself, he had within him the spirit-witness of Christ revealed, by whom he was made ‘“‘heir of all things.” Thus his Christian life on earth was ended, as it began, in the simplicity of a positive, child- like faith; and he crossed the border-line that separates the earthly from the heavenly domain of the divine kingdom almost insensibly, as one already naturalized to the climate, the scenery and the society of the redeemed soul’s true home in the Paradise of God. . ; : ) ad eo ail APPENDIX. Dr. NEALE, ever sensitive to the moral judgments of his friends and of society, was well aware of his liability, in one line of direction, to be misjudged. In a brief letter addressed to Stillman Blanchard, Esq., of Boston, Oct. 2, 1874, we find the following illustration. * * * “TY am about leaving home on a long journey West, perhaps as far as California, and I have a feeling of melancholy at the thought of leaving endeared friends, among whom your pleasant face is ever prominent. I gratefully appreciate your esteem and friendship, and I hope I may never be unworthy of them. You have spoken approv- ingly of my spirit of Christian courtesy shown toward persons of different classes and denominations. I do this, I am sure, not selfishly, to conciliate favors, but partly because it is natural, and because I believe it ism accordance with the spirit and teachings of Christ, and because I honestly think there is something good in _ everybody that ought to be kindly recognized.” Dr. Neale’s memories of old friends were tenderly cherished, and imperishable. The following note, to the daughter of Rev. Phineas Stowe, exemplifies this statement : — 76 “14 SoMERSET ST., Boston, April 12, 1878. “ My Dear MINNIE: — “This, I understand, is your eighteenth birthday. It would be but a cold expression of my feeling to tender you the usual compli- ments of the occasion, saying, ‘I congratulate you, and wish you many returns of the anniversary,’ etc., etc. No! the memories it recalls are too sacred to be passed by thus lightly. You are the loved and only surviving child of one of the dearest friends of my early and mature years. I have been recognized for years by your father and mother, and by your—not second father, but one who has nobly fulfilled, in tender love and unfaltering care, the place of the first — have been recognized by, these as their friend and yours. ForsolIam. I never see you without thinking of all these things. I shall always feel a parental and Christian interest in your welfare, temporal and spiritual, for their sakes as well as your own. God bless you, my child, and spare your life yet many years to be, as you have been in the past, a blessing and a joy to your many friends. Yours ever, R, A NEADE > . SS Na . hl Bg, AS iy t? Ve bags % ey a Mee oy ie oe Sass = Sy Sao a SS