SS: SS . AS OPP he PGE = SS SERN SESE PRIM ED aS Ly = sN SSE . SS LAX YS SN Nos SSS S APR MPT ALA, es aS NS, As es ~ SSN SS 5 WHOA Ps BESS ha A NS y Se 2 SNS se ~ SS : RAE SSS SAS WS RES MA iSsSa ~ LIE OAR LI NAD “ a ~ of * : ”, ~ , . . - “. 5 " ~ ‘ i - , aa - ! (a 3 . ba, os ‘ = ‘ w ‘ rf E * , ; af - = - > 4 — ~ - . a ~ * v 4 ~ - — pis ‘ > : ) my i see Ps _ z ; 4: ri aw \ - . - — a 5 . - “ . - = : = 6. oN . r z - te a + x ° 5 . s 2 - = - ° — . 7 3" © o , ~ a + . - ~ wf as - a - . < > MEMORIAL OF UREN. MYRON NEWTON MORRIS. PUBLISHED BY THE CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH, West Hartford, Conn. HARTFORD, CONN.: Press oF THE Case, Lockwoop & BraINARD CoMPANY, 1886. The following vote, passed by the Congregational church of West Hartford, Conn., sets forth the origin of this memorial. WHEREAS, A desire has been expressed by many members of this church that some fitting memorial be prepared of the late Rev. Myron Newton Morris, for so hee years our beloved pastor, therefore : Resolved, That we hereby extend an invitation to the members of his family to furnish such a sketch of his life and work, to be published by this church, as shall be most acceptable to them. Resolved, That Messrs. Charles C. Stearns, Henry Talcott, and William H. Hall, be a committee to act in behalf of the church in conferring with the family and in securing the publica- tion and distribution of this volume. CONTENTS. PAGE. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH; By Edward L. Morris; eeeariy Lite, 1819 to 1332, = - - - - ” 2. From School to Pulpit, 1832 to 1846, - 17 3. Inthe Pulpit and Out, 1846 to 1885, : - 27 4. Home Life. Traits of the Man, - - = 40 FUNERAL ADDRESS; By Nathaniel J. Burton, D.D., - - - 56 - Mr. Morris AS A STUDENT AND FELLOW OF YALE COLLEGE ; | By President Noah Porter, D.D., LL.D., - 4 72 LETTER ; From George W. Cooke of Waterbury, Conn., - a7 REMINISCENCES ; By Rev. Joseph W. Backus, - - - - 80 IMPRESSIONS 3 By Rev. Franklin S. Hatch, Successor in the West Hartford Pulpit, - - - - - 85. SERMONS; Preached by Rev. Myron N. Morris, at West Hart- ford, July 1, 1852, - - - - - gI Preached by Rev. Myron N. Morris, at West Hart- ford, April 18, 1875, - : - 106 STATISTICAL RECORD, - - - - se TO PUBLISHED DISCOURSES, - - - : ae BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. I. EARLY LIFE. —I8IO To 1832. How shall we- sketch this even, unpretending life? Standing upon the threshold of the home, how shall we speak rightly to the public, and at the same time do justice to him who never dreamed, probably, that so much as the present volume would be dedicated to his memory; whose keen sense of truth and worth and distrust of human praise were such as to lead him to exclaim, long time ago, “I hope nobody will ever eulogize me”? We have hesitated, but for these many hearts who wish to keep his memory bright, rehearse the simple story. Myron Newton Morris came from Warren, one of the ‘“‘hill towns” of Connecticut, in Litchfield county. He was born Nov. 19, 1810. His father was a farmer, at that time located on “College Farms,” one of five large tracts of land, of three hundred acres each, deeded by the State to Yale College, in 1741. The old house is still standing, a little one-story dwelling, brown and. 8 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. weather-worn, and still suggesting a snug and humble comfort. We may imagine gathered about the ample fireplace, on a winter's night, Newton John Morris, his wife, Eunice Newton, and, besides the little new- comer, three children, — Abigail, Garry, and Polly, whose ages were respectively seventeen, sixteen, and eight. The other children, much older, had been for some time living away. They were Jon thirty-two, and Any, twenty-four. Not long after the important event which we have just recorded, the family removed to more commodious quarters in a new house of their own. This had been built on a farm of two hundred acres, consisting — mostly of wild and wooded land, which furnished solid work enough to stir the energies of all concerned. It lay in “ West District,” some mile and a half from Warren meeting-house. Here the boy Myron grew up, learning early to labor with his hands, and acquir- ing something of that New England pluck which comes to those whose lot it is to bend the back to toil and wrestle with the tough old oaks. Of Newton John Morris and his wife, we know that they were upright, Christian people, tenacious of the — old beliefs, appreciating their church privileges, hold- ing regularly their family worship, keeping strictly their Saturday night, and instilling their children’s minds with notions of usefulness and duty. They were large of stature, and surrounded themselves with a family doing honor in this respect to the parental stock. EARLY LIFE, m9 _ Mr. Morris once said, speaking of his descent, and referring particularly to the Morris side, “I do not know much about my ancestors, but, so far as I can learn, they were ‘a// honest.” This is much to know. Taking up the research later, he was able to discover ‘a most worthy source. His father, who, by the way, was married twice, Myron being the last child by the second marriage, was, before the birth of his children, a soldier of the Revolution. Of his grandfather, Mr. Morris says in a note, which we find under date of 1840, “My paternal grandfather, John Morris, and his wife, Sybil Newton, resided at Milford, Conn., and afterwards removed to Ridgefield, in that State. He was a weaver by trade, cloth of domestic manufacture at that time being generally woven by men who had served a regular apprenticeship in the business, and went about from house to house to do their work, as carpenters and masons and some shoemakers do at the present day. He sometimes went a voyage to sea. They both lived to a good old age. I never saw either of them, nor do I know at what age they died; but when my father was seventy years old he supposed that his mother was still living. My impression is that my grandfather was somewhat severe with his children, but a very kind and generous-hearted man, greatly preferring to /zve well with his family and neighbors to laying up property; so that, with his careless and rather adventurous spirit, he was gener- ally poor.” That one should ‘‘suppose” that his mother was 2 IO BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. still living may seem a trifle strange; but she was quite possibly with some other of her children in the “far west’’ of New York State, or even at some then remote section of Connecticut. Mails were not fre- quent then, as they are to-day. Most of the old let- ters begin, ‘“‘Having an opportunity to send by So- and-So, who is going to-morrow,” etc., etc. ' Mr. Morris’s maternal grandfather, John Newton, and his paternal grandmother, Sybil Newton, were brother and sister, and were the great-great-grand-chil- dren of the famous Rev. Thomas Hooker, the pioneer minister of Connecticut, his eldest daughter, Mary, having married Rev. Roger Newton, who was ordained at Farmington October 13, 1652, was installed at Mil- ford in 1660, and died June 7, 1683. It will be seen that Mr. Morris was the inheritor, by a double line, of ministerial blood. The influences of his native town were various. There were hard characters there, such as frequently gather in the country villages, the liquor interest was often very strong, and many an exciting time was had about the tavern, upon which the sober church looked down reprovingly. The hotness of these conflicts may be imagined when it is told that a certain deacon held out against the Cold Water Society so stoutly that some of the younger members were moved to steal away his sign, and to commit other acts of semi-riotous nature from time to time, in order to give emphasis to their ultra sentiments. But that Warren church, set upon its hill, had always strength to wage its earnest EARLY LIFE. II conflicts, though with foes without or foes within. It was the “mother church” of such men as Charles G. _ Finney, Julian M. Sturtevant, John L. Taylor, and scores of humbler names, who made their beginning here as valiant soldiers. Peter Starr was its minister from March, 1772, until his death in July, 1829, and under him were powerful revivals in 1783, 1799, and 1821. Mr. Morris became a member of this church in 1831, not with any suddenness of “experience,” or overflowing of emotion, but as the result of a calm resolve which had its source in early childhood and took strength with rising years. : From the first he was thoughtful, studious, and manly. His mind was of that mature sort which weighed its purposes and set diligently about its work. Cradled in devoutness, and nursed in soundness of the ancient doctrines, a prompting to religious things seemed in his native air as well as flowing in his veins. From his steady habits and reflective ways he earned the title of “Father Morris” while at the: village school, and applied himself to lessons often while the others played. But he found chances from time to time to fish in Waremaug Lake and Spectacle Pond, and bore through life the mark of at least one youth- ful exploit in the way of coasting, a scar across his throat, cut by one of those ugly, crooked fences which often stride so inconveniently athwart one’s path. He was a bashful boy, and many a time went hard with him, requiring all his resolution to bear him through. He looked forward to atime when he should 12 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. move in wider circles and overcome this natural timidity, not alone for selfish ends, but that his useful- ness might be increased. At length, having gained an impetus from the privileges of the district school and “Select Academy,” the latter occupying what is now known as the Town Hall, he got permission to go away from home and teach, the condition being : that the wages earned should be paid into the home treasury, he being then under age. So in the fall of 1828 he secured a school at Union Vale, Dutchess County, N. Y. And now begins a series of letters, which we are fortunate to have in our possession, written for the most part to his two sisters who were at home,and throwing much light upon those early days. They show here and there a sportive tendency, many a joke plying its way back and forth amid more serious matters. Just one is written to his father and mother. It gives an account of his experience upon taking charge of the school, and is interesting as showing: that polite, fihal regard which is none too common in these “more enlightened” days, being addressed to his ‘‘Worthy Parents,” and signed “Yours Respectfully.” He “sendss it by Mit Carter, and says that he has begun school on a rainy day with seventeen scholars. Merville Saunders has obtained a school “in Freedom at twelve dollars a month,” which we judge to be about the common wages. Of course they ‘boarded around.” Mr. Morris has no sooner commenced his duties as a teacher than he takes an interest in a “Christian Meeting” which he EARLY LIFE. 13 hears of in the neighborhood, and which he finds to be _ much like the Methodist meetings which he has pre- viously known His watch, which figures conspicu- ously on several occasions, is humorously described as a good one to close the session by, carrying itself, as watches are apt to do, in cases where economy per- petuates their services, quite independently of the regulator, and gaining “about half an hour in twenty- four.” Bent on’ securing an education for himself, he looks back, still with longing, from among his pupils to the academy at. Warren, whose new term is just commenc- ing. Acquaintance widens as he goes from house to house, and an opportunity. is afforded for studying human nature in its’ various forms. Sometimes the cautious citizens refuse to harbor him, and here and there a case becomes so desperate that he is obliged, by slow delay and careful tactics, to thaw out the cold- ness of his hosts until they come unconsciously to be his friends, and at last his welcoming entertainers. Under date of December 11, 1828, after recording an increase in the number of his scholars to fifty-four, he says, “I will tell you just what I think about teach- ing school. It requires the patience of Job, and the wisdom of Solomon, together with a firm resolution that can not be shaken, and yet, to a person who has all those qualifications, there must be many trying seasons, especially where there are a great many small scholars.” And he remarks, further along in the same I4 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. letter, that he is “‘just the person that don’t begin to teach school and then back out,” adding in language so true and forcible that we cannot forbear to repro- duce it, “just so with anyother scrape!’’ In January, 1829, he reports that his scholars number “ upwards of seventy.” The fall of that year, however, finds him teaching in Dover, N.Y.. Frequent journeys home are made, many of them on foot, his length of limb, on which his sisters chaff him pleasantly, ena- bling him to take long strides and saving many a coach fare. They lead him through a country full of natural beauty. How many times in after years did he see again, in imagination, those hills and vales, clad in summer’s green or white with snows of winter! But he does not always choose to walk. This is the. prospectus of a business enterprise, in which profit and pleasure are to be combined: ‘“ Should the weather be favorable and the traveling good, I shall probably come home next week on Saturday or week after on Monday, and bring a small load of flour. I am to have the flour for three dollars per hundred, and the miller furnishes me with a horse and wagon to carry it. My principal object is to get a ride home, and if I could sell the flour for three dollars and twenty-five cents per hundred I should make a small profit. Mr. Washburn sells his flour for three dollars and twenty- five cents per hundred by the single bag, and as far as I can learn that is the stated price for small quantities,” The boy is coming fast to manhood. His mind expands and takes in all that offers in the way of wholesome information, and gives out as it may to EARLY LIFE. [5 cheer or waken those around. One of his sisters, equally with himself, is of a religious turn of thought, - and she looks with tenderest care after the morals of her young brother, who, in turn, confides to her his hopes and doubts, his triumphs or defeats, and his plans for future work, as Providence shall guide. During his stay at Dover, it seems that he is engaged in something which she designates as ‘debate meet- ings,’ held on Sunday nights, and she is much con- cerned lest such a course shall lead to an undervalua- tion of that sacred day. She writes him a long letter, in which she argues the case, closing with a quotation from a hymn, and inserting, on a sheet of old-style, long letter-paper, sixty-four very closely written lines from “ Dr. Scott’s Explanatory Notes” upon the fourth commandment. It is possible that these debates were, in the minds of the participants, allowable after sun- down; but we have not been able to ascertain their exact nature, or whether Dr. Scott's Notes broke them up. Now comes a change affecting all. On January 14, 1830, the father of the family died at his home on the Warren farm. Mr. Morris must still be absent fora time to finish, his term at Dover. Garry, who has been for some time right-hand man, is appointed exec- utor of the will, and it is found that there is much question whether its provisions can be carried out and anything be left for him. What shall theydoa The snow is on the ground, and the lots cannot be easily surveyed and set off with fairness, the spring work must be somehow arranged, and there is doubt as to 16 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. whether the whole should not be sold together. Polly beseeches Myron to come home and choose a guardian, | while Abby urges that there must be mutual sacrifice, that we must “pray for grace, that we may be enabled to trust in the Lord with all our hearts,’ and that “riches are not essentially necessary to render us happy in this life, or to prepare us for happiness in the world to come.” | A clause in the will reads as follows: “I give and bequeath unto my son, Myron Newton Morris, eight hundred dollars, to be paid to him in money or in land from my estate, at the appraisal of disinterested free- holders, to be named by my'son Myron and my execu- tor, said sum of eight hundred dollars to be paid to him at the time of my decease; and I do also give to my said son Myron one yoke of oxen, one horse, sad- dle, and bridle, all of the value of one hundred and fifty dollars, to be furnished to him by my executor in one year from my decease.” Here, then, was opportunity to go back to farming. Was not Warren as fair a place for usefulness as any? Did not duty plainly call him, too? His absence from home had been so far considered as merely temporary. So he at length consented to take the farm for a year or two, and being quite a manager, was able to straighten out some difficult matters, after which it was turned over again to Garry. How favorably or unfavorably for each affairs turned out at last we are unable at this late date to say. It is not probable that Mr. Morris started out either quite penniless, or over- ‘supplied with funds. iva From ScHoor To PuLpir.—1832 To 1846. In May, 1832, having determined to fit for college, Mr. Morris placed himself under the instruction of Hon. Hawley Olmstead, at his school in Wilton, Conn., where he remained until August, 1833. He writes home May 12th that he is comfortably situated in a “large upper room, furnished,” in a family who are connections of one of Andover’s professors, that he has a good room-mate, and expects two more, and pays $1.50 per week for board and washing, finding his own fuel and lights. He says, after speaking of the good living furnished, ‘“‘ But I consider my board to be of minor importance. What I value most highly is, that I have got into a pious family, and that I have Chris- tian companions, This was what I was most anxious about before I came here; for the thought that I might break loose from that restraint and reserve upon the subject of religion with which, partly my natural temper, but chiefly habit, had bound me, was not among the least of the causes that induced me to leave Warren. This restraint is probably as great a hindrance to usefulness as any one thing else.” In answer to an inquiry from his sister, later, as to how effectual his absence from home has been in the 3 - 18 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. matter last mentioned, he says, “I find myself too much disposed to fall in with any kind of conversation that may chance to come up; and I find it much easier to introduce any other topic than the one;in question, especially when in company with those who are rather cold upon the subject. I might say that this is a constitutional defect; but 1] beleve it was incorporated with the constitution by habit, and this - habit is the result of choice. The choice may be in consequence of the fall of Adam, but not a mecessary consequence of it. The fact is, constitutional failings .affect everything alike, and zo religion alone. And when I hear persons able to talk with freedom, in all places and at all times, upon secular subjects, but unable to say a word upon religious topics, I do not hesitate to say that this reserve is zo¢ a constitutional one. As to myself, I. feel a greater freedom abroad than at home, but I fear that this diffidence or reserve will disqualify me for usefulness in the sphere of life which I had anticipated.” While thus mourning his shortcomings, he kept steadily on in Christian work, his letters showing a constant interest in the one great theme. A section of the town was destitute of a Sunday-school, and in this he labored, with other students, making a thor-. ough canvass, and collecting large numbers who had not before been reached. This was under an impulse _given by the American Sabbath-School Union, which organized about that time a grand simultaneous move- «ment throughout the United States. FROM SCHOOL TO PULPIT. 19 In October, 1833, Mr. Morris entered Yale College. _A glad day indeed! looked forward to through years of toil and patience ; dreamed of when he had listened to the wise words of men who had been to him exam- ples, and pictured while delving in the wood and field! New scenes now open. New companions greet him day by day. New thoughts are stirred, and now and then new glories are perceived, as yet quite dimly, on the far horizon. Toil, toil, toil, he is at it yet as hard as on thefarm. He rises at five in the morning, reads his Bible, goes to prayers at six, attends a recitation afterward, and at half-past seven takes breakfast. The bell for study rings at nine, but he usually commences “immediately after breakfast.” After twelve he takes a little exercise, eats dinner at one, and though the study bell does not ring until two, he has been for some time at his books. So it goes through the day, prayers coming again at five, supper, and study hours again, until ten, when he retires. He says: “Some think this is being ‘tied up,’ but it is just such con- finement as [ like.” Who were the young men with whom he now came in contact? Some of them are mentioned later. We may here name, some well-known, formerly or at pres- ent, in Hartford, Walter Clarke, D.D., Rev. Joseph D. Hull, John Hooker, Edmund Terry ; others of New Haven, Prof. Benjamin Silliman, Prof. Chester S. Lyman; and still others, Azariah Smith, M.D., James D, Whelpley, M.D., David B. Coe, D.D., Hon. Ed- wards Pierrepont, Chief Justice Morrison R. Waite, and Hon. Samuel J. Tilden, the latter not a graduate. \ 20 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. Most of the class were much younger than Mr. Morris, though there were some half-dozen of about his age, or older. ‘Father Morris” he soon becomes, as in the village school, from form and age, and serious manner. There was great variety of character, of course, among his associates, and, if often self-con- tained and silent, he was no less an acute observer of men. As to his influence upon them, let others speak who knew him there. Hard work came to him as a “sécond nature,’ and, watching every moment while at college, he regrets the “ waste of time” during vacations, which he spends with his relatives, who have now established a home in North Kent. The trips enliven him, however, and, taken as they are on foot and by stage, furnish the theme for many a curious comment. The months move swiftly on, and we come now to December, 1835, where he playfully alludes to himself thus: “It seems that you hear of some of the zamor- tal honors bestowed upon mein college. Yes! to take the first prize among forty noble writers!! O, it is enough to make a frog swell into an ox.” And why should he not take real joy in this achievement? We suspect there was an humble exultation underneath the careless play of speech, and particularly, as in the same letter he goes back so naturally to the days of childhood. We present the picture of the old-time home as he has given it, and of the guileless boy, whose appellations, somewhat uncouth as they sound to-day, were as respectful then as those we choose to call polite. | FROM SCHOOL TO PULFIT. 21 “But a little while ago I was just beginning to make marks with a pen, and longing for the time when ‘I should be ‘ big enough’ to cypher. With what pleas- ure did I then sally forth, on such a morning as this, with John and Lyman and Abner, and all the boys, to sport on the ice, with only two fears to damp our joys, viz.: that we should be scolded for wearing out-our shoes, and that ‘ Uncle Buel’ would drive us out of his meadow. And then when the snow was too deep for my short legs, (which have now become so long as to surpass all snow drifts), I used to parch corn, or play checkers, or try to urge you or Polly to keep school, while I would hang upon the south-room closet door the end of the gourd handle, which I had mischievously ‘taken from the spinning-wheel for a bell. And then, what pleasure I anticipated from those great ‘slap- jacks’ that we were to have for supper. What a fes- tive board was that! I can almost see that great pew- ter platter heaped up with ‘slap-jacks,’ well buttered, and cut like pieces of pie, standing in the middle of our long table; on one side a plate of dried beef, and on the other a plate of cheese; at one enda glass of cider, and at the other a pitcher; and myself just old enough to have my place between ‘Daddy’ and ‘Mammy, and take a seat below Garry in the neigh- borhood of the bread-server and tea-pot. O those were golden days! but they are gone forever. I then thought that I had but little more to learn. Now years have passed away, and all things are changed. I have discovered my ignorance and resumed, in my ‘old age, the business of childhood.’ 22 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. The ladder of learning is being slowly climbed. Mr. Morris quite likely sees a contrast between his early surroundings and those of the present, as affect- ing the nobler things which he is intent to reach. But he has not cast off the old habits of frugality. They are largely from necessity, and partly, no doubt, from choice. Nor is he without companions in his- economical attempts. Here is his account of living at one period of the college course: ‘I have become quite a temperance man. I am boarding ina club. We use neither tea nor coffee, drink nothing but cold water. We use but very little meat or butter, but molasses in abundance. We usually have hasty-pud- ding and molasses, or boiled rice and molasses, and bread for breakfast and supper, and codfish and pota- toes for dinner. We sometimes, however, have roasted or boiled meat for dinner. We live so for two reasons, Ist, it is better for health, 2d, i as eminen cheaper. Each of us gives the woman 30 cents per week for cooking, the use of dishes, etc. She does not bake for us, we buy our bread of a baker.” Mr. Morris graduated from Yale College in August, 1837, receiving as his parting -honor the second appointment, or salutatory.. But he had been for some time principal of Bacon Academy, in Colchester, Conn., having secured the place through recommenda- tion of the faculty of the college, in January. This was a position calculated to bring into play his utmost powers. Bacon Academy was the institution of the - town, and its principal the ‘‘ observed of all observers.”’ FROM SCHOOL TO PULPIT. 23 It had at this time about three hundred pupils, with four or five subordinate teachers, and was quite popu- “lar as a school in which to fit for college. It had a supporting fund of $35,000, and was free for the youth of Colchester, but its numbers were gathered from widely scattered sections of the country, many from the South. Those from out of town were considered as largely under the care of the principal, who, being necessarily brought much into contact also with the parents of the local pupils, had his ample share of responsibility. Mr. Morris was twice in charge of this Academy, from Feb. 1, 1837, to the close of the summer term in 1838, and from March, 1840, to the close of the summer term in 1843. In the interim he was instructor of ‘‘ Mathematics, Natural Philosophy, and Scientific and Fractical Agriculture,” at the Teachers Academy, Andover, Mass. His classes were taught in practical surveying, and a farm con- nected with the institution afforded an opportunity for carrying out the training in the agricultural direction. At Colchester, being much younger than his pre- decessor, Mr. Morris: naturally found some admirers among the lady pupils. At the home of one of these he boarded, for in the term time the village was full of boarders and each household took its share. Under these circumstances. acquaintance went on rapidly. The young lady writes to her brother, April 30, 1837: “Mr. Morris is very much liked as a teacher,” and adds girlishly, for she was then just turned seventeen, ‘some naturally occurring thoughts as to possibilities 24. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. — not for herself. Strange world this is! Before her eighteenth birthday came she was his wife, and writing to this same brother an account of the marriage of his ‘little sister,” Julia Avery. She too was from minis- terial stock, being the great-great-grand-daughter of Rev. John Owen of Center Groton, Conn., who was the son of Rev. John Owen, from Braintree, England, who in turn was the son of John Owen, D.D., the ‘“ereat dissenter,’ and prominent theological writer, chaplain to Oliver Cromwell. While at Colchester and Andover Mr. Morris im- proved all the extra time at his command in studying. He is not sure that teaching shall be his life-work. Not until July, 1839, do we find him consulting Dr. Edwards, at Andover, in regard to studying theology. In March, 1840, his journal records, “I am determined now to commence a short course of ecclesiastical his- tory, and then, if prospects remain unchanged, take some system of theology.” John L. Taylor has been his friend and correspondent from boyhood, and he consults him as to books, pursuing his studies quietly, yet with persistence. His efforts at gaining time are often quite amusing. Dec. 23, 1636) aieuweeuraen “Rose at 34 this morning and studied French, — accomplished more before breakfast than I should have done in the whole day to have risen at 74. If one gains three hours a day for study by early rising, that will be a whole half year, at the rate of six hours a day, about enough for one to study. If this time were devoted to the study of languages, one new language FROM SCHOOL TO PULPIT. 25 might be learned each year; or if to reading, what an _ immense fund of information might be acquired. How much of our lives we throw away! And how impor- tant that children should be taught to rise early.” Dec. 26th, he writes: “Rose at 44, but soon found myself too dull to study to advantage; felt somewhat exhilirated by the idea of having risen early, which pleasure could not have been experienced by lying late in bed. I laid aside my French and took up a novel, ‘Harry O’Reardon,’ illustrating Irish feelings. Read this to advantage — became so interested that I fin- ished it this afternoon. Such a change, when one is dull or indisposed, improves the mind more than the vain attempt to study, and relieves it more than idleness.” | All through the winter months he rises at 5, at 34, at 4, at 3, and pursues his French and Greek, his readings on the “Divinity of Christ” and kindred themes, many times finding himself ‘too sleepy” and “too dull” to make the most of these repeated pilfer- ings of time. It may be said here that one of the peculiar cus- toms which Mr. Morris found in vogue at Bacon Academy, was that of having recitations at 5 o’clock in the morning, the avowed object being to induce early rising. This worked well for those who wished to get their boarders out of bed, but was not popu- lar among the citizens who sent their own children to the school, so after the first three summers he abandoned the plan, mainly on his own accountability. 4 26 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. Having started housekeeping, the family now try their hands at taking boarders, and Mr. Morris finally adds farming. There are difficulties in the way of combining diverse occupations. The pigs get out in the morning, the cows of the neighbors break into the corn during the school hours, and those belonging to the tired principal run away at night. There are — fences to make, and barns to be repaired, the horse gets cast; and sameness in the daily routine is cer- tainly avoided. July, 1841, Mr. Morris has an acre of potatoes, one of corn, two acres of oats, some turnips and beets, two cows, one horse, three pigs, ten fowls,. and fifty chickens which are meeting sundry adverse fates. | 3 In the fall of 1843, Mr. Morris’ connection with Bacon Academy having been severed by his resigna- tion, he is licensed to preach by the Association of New London County. From this time until January, 1845, he is engaged in farming, teaching private pupils, and supplying various pulpits. Then, leaving Colchester, he teaches the Academy at Norwich Town two terms, from January to September, and closes his services in this peculiar department of instruction. Henceforward his efforts are to be directed in the channel toward which his life has sensibly been tend- ing since the time he bid good-bye to the old home and farm at Warren. Helle In THE PULPIT AND OvutT, 1846 TO 1886. April 15, 1846, Mr. Morris was ordained pastor of the Congregational church in North Stonington, Conn., having preached there seven Sundays pre- viously, mostly during the winter. His settlement in that place is traced by Rev. Thomas L. Shipman of Jewett City, Conn., in a letter which he sends us, toa circumstance, trifling in itself, which yet turned for life the fluctuating tide ; for candidating and supply- ing were becoming a weariness and a discouragement. A ministers’ meeting was to be held at New London. Mr. Morris had not planned to attend. He was then living at Norwich Town. Rev. Joseph Ayer, then of Hanover, who himself had been settled at North Ston- ington from 1825 to 1837, stopped in on his way and found Mr. Morris in the cellar laying down his winter supply of pork. Being urged to accompany Mr. Ayer, Mr. Morris consented, and preached at the New London meeting. Maj. T. W. Williams heard the sermon and suggested to his brother, Gen. Wm. Willams of Norwich, that Mr. Morris would be a good man for the North Stonington or “ Milltown” church, they being natives of the place and much 28 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. . interested in all its affairs. The end of it all was that he received the call, accepted, and remained to preach six years, during which time a new church was built and a new parsonage commenced, to be occupied, however, as affairs turned, by Mr. Morris's successor. The sermon alluded to was from 1st Timothy, iii, 15: ‘The church of the living God, the pillar and ground of the truth.” Mr. Shipman recalls that it was lost from the carriage on the return trip from New London, recovered by himself, and we find that it was used on several occasions. Mr. Morris did not like often to repeat his sermons. The first one written was delivered at Colchester, Oct. 1, 1843, and was several times called upon. Its repetition was not always a success, as we learn from his journal. He says of it on one occasion, ‘ Preached the first sermon I ever wrote, but failed to be inter- ested myself, or to interest others. So I skipped over several places, and stopped six pages short of the etre ee There were no marked incidents in Mr. Morris's stay at North Stonington. Respect for the house of God, which had lamentably depreciated, was gradually increased. Family quarrels of long standing were somewhat smoothedaway. Interest in all good things was slowly becoming more manifest. The attach- ment of pastor and people, so necessary and so delight- ful, grew. But the three children were coming up rapidly and Mr. Morris was anxious to bring them under the best influences and to give them such an IN THE PULPIT AND OUT. 29 education as could not well be obtained should the family remain where they were. For this and other reasons he became much perplexed about what course he should pursue. In 1851 two calls were received from the Congregational church in West Hartford, Conn., also a call to candidate in Bath, Me., anda pro- position to take the Hartford High School. These were all declined. June 4, 1852, came a third call from West Hartford, which was accepted. There were many mourners in Milltown. Were they and their pastor not in full accord? Was not the new parsonage almost ready? Mr. Morris’s plans were always conducted fairly with his people. From these good friends he had accepted much, yet with a perfect understanding. He had urged improvements, not for his own sake, but because they should be made. He greeted all with hearty welcome when they came with gifts, at the same time “telling them plainly,” as was his wont, that such things must not interfere in any way with his “faithful dealing” toward them. Inde- pendence was his motto and frankness made it easy, so, despite the heartfelt kindnesses, the tender ties, the waiting parsonage and all, decision was made as duty seemed to call. On July 1, 1852, Mr. Morris commenced his pastor- ate at West Hartford. Here was the scene of many changes. His wife, Julia, who had shared with him till now his joys and trials since college days, here was laid in last repose. Here a daughter and a son found partners for life’s pilgrimage, and grandchildren grew 3C BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. up. Here was his second marriage, and here, beside two little nameless infant graves, was buried George, almost a man in stature, at fifteen years of age. The uncertain steps which had led thus far were now to find a straighter course. Here was to be home, though none could see it at the first. | 3 Mr. Morris was the eighth pastor of the West Hartford church, his predecessors having been as follows: Rev. BENJAMIN COLTON, Ordained February 24, 1713, -Died March 1, 1759. Rev. NATHANAEL HOOKER, JR., Ordained December 21, 1757, Died June I1, 1770. Rev. NATHAN PERKINS, D.D., Ordained October 14, 1772, Died January 15, 1838. Rev. CALEB S. HENRY, Installed colleague June 12, 1833, | Dismissed March 25, 1835. Rev. EDWARD W. ANDREWS, Ordained colleague Nov. 15, 1837, Dismissed Dec. 22, 1840. - Rev. GEORGE I. Woop, Installed November 9, 1841, Dismissed June 5, 1844. Rev. Dwicut M. SEWARD, Installed January 14, 1845, Dismissed Dec. 18, 1850. The Congregational church was then the only one in the place, the Episcopal being built in 1853, and the Baptist in 1858. An unwonted spectacle met the minister’s family on the Sunday of their first appearance here. ‘The old horse-sheds then stood just north of the parsonage, and the little “vestry ” was on the corner. A few more horse-sheds were south of the church, the old white church, remember, now the Town Hall. The park was fenced, as were the INS THE PUnPIT AND OUT. 31 yards all up and down which now open on the street. As the hour for service approached, the wagons came _ pouring in from east and west and north and south. The vacant sheds were filled up rapidly. Around the park the horses stamped in long stretched lines. The scattered hitching-posts and trees did duty, and the fences lent their aid away up beyond the old brick school-house. It was an imposing sight. We began to realize that this was the “Center” of a wide-spread town. But sight-seeing was not for the minister's family alone. They were to be seen. ‘So on they came, the tall, grave, smooth-faced man, his slight > wife, with. modest mien, a round-cheeked girl, a mis- chievous, red-haired boy, and a pale-browed, solemn little fellow ; all clad /in decent order, and marching in review before the interested citizens of the door- step, up the broad aisle, and into the front seat appor- tioned always to the pastor’s use. How high the yellow pulpit rose! for all the space was used, to the last inch of floor-room, close to the brink of that dread desk. And how grand the choir was! “Uncle Thomas” Brace leading with his violin, a host on either side, and the “ double-bass ” viol sawing mightily in the rear. And what men were there? Capt. Mills, Capt. Semen, Capt, Place, Dea. Selden, Dea. Mitchell, Dea. Cone, Dea. Colton, Dea. Griswold, the Sedgwicks, the Elmers, the Whitings, the Gridleys, a Colonel, a Doc- tor; howbig they were! Titled and untitled, heads of families and children, they formed a goodly array. Each family sat in its own established pew, its property, And what a time, later, in giving up those pews! 32 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. “Donation Parties” were well established here, as they had been in Milltown. When the time came ‘round the people gathered witha will. They “brought gifts” and laid them in the parsonage and about the doors.