K M N S • ill 1 » 0* Of PBW$ /; i Logical sttf ^ T8S7 T5 55! r / ~f / PRW7B SERMONS : ^»^ CONNECTED WITH TUB Swrptning of tge Clnxrdj of tlje Sotttlj farisg, IN PORTSMOUTH, NEW HAMPSHIRE, PREACHED DEC. 25 & 26, 1858; AND JAN. 30 AND EEB. 6, 1859. BY ANDREW P. PEABODY, PASTOR OF THE PARISH. ^ubliSrjeU bg Request. PORTSMOUTH: JAMES F. SHORES, JUN., & JOSEPH H. FOSTER. boston: crosby, nichols, and company. 1859. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S59, by J. F. SHORES, JUN., AND J. H. FOSTER, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of New Hampshire. BOSTON : printed by john wilson and son, 22, School Street. CONTENTS. Sermon. page. I. — Christian Worship 5 II. — Christ and the Father One 26 III. — History of the South Parish 44 IV. — History of the South Parish (continued) . . 65 Appendix 91 I. CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. Preached at the Re-opening of the Church, Dec. 25, 1858. Heb. x. 20: "A new and living Way." A KIND Providence permits us, after our protracted absence, to renew our wor- ship on this long-hallowed spot ; and, I trust, not without glad and grateful hearts. I sym- pathize with those who most rejoice in the change that we witness in our sanctuary ; for I cannot but feel, that — rapidly as we are passing on, and in all things, whether we so intend or not, living less for ourselves than for those who shall come after us — we have been doing a work for which our children and our children's children will thank us, and have made the extent, capacity, and conve- 2 6 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. nience of our house of worship such as must meet the demands of those who shall assemble here for many generations. At the same time, in the general outlines of the walls and ceiling, we retain those larger features which gave individuality to the edifice, are indelible in all our associations with it, and will trans- mit the memory of the pure and refined taste which presided in its inception, and made it inferior to hardly any structure of the same date, in simple and massive elegance, and in fitness for its sacred uses. We have our tri- bute of gratitude to offer, that, in an enter- prise involving so much exposure and peril, the lives of those who have wrought the work for us have been preserved, and that not a single serious personal injury has occurred to leave a painful remembrance. I trust, also, that, in the inevitable differences of opinion connected with so large and important an undertaking, there has been such an exercise of the spirit of mutual concession and for- bearance, and so sincere a desire and en- CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. t deavor to meet all reasonable wishes, that we re-enter our church no less a united Christian community than when we left it ; and that the unspeakable blessing of harmony, which has been ours for a time of which the memory of man runneth not to the contrary, will continue unimpaired longer than our forms or our names shall be remembered here. Though we would gladly have hastened the day, it may be accounted as a privilege that we return hither on the anniversary so precious to every Christian heart; and that with our consecrating anthem and prayer we lift our thanksgiving for the advent of Him who has taught us to pray, and filled our hearts with praise. The blending of the two occasions suggests Christian Worship as our theme. I have separated the words of our text from the con- nection in which they stand as referring to the Saviour's death, and taken them as a motto for a discourse on what is peculiar in Christian worship, — on the way to the throne 8 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. and the mercy-seat opened by the advent of Christ. A new way ; for Christian worship has features entirely different from those which have appertained to any other religion except Judaism, and to which Jewish wor- ship bore only the resemblance which the part may bear to the whole, the beginning to the consummation, the germ to the ripened fruitage. A living way ; for the Saviour, born in Bethlehem, dying only to live again, ever-living, is the way. Christian worship may be considered as to its object, its de- mands of the individual worshipper, and the relations in which it places him toward the race of which he is a member. I. We consider its object, — not the Crea- tor, not the Sovereign, not the Judge, but the Father. All other modes of worship have been propitiatory, — have been offered to divi- nities that needed to be appeased and conci- liated. Even the devout Jew dared not come to the altar without his sacrifice ; and, without the shedding of blood, there was no remission. CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. 9 Until Christ, the universal consciousness of mankind confessed an alienation from God, and a need of reconciliation, of atonement. Ill-desert interposed a fearful chasm between the sinner and his God. Man had defeated his own claims at the divine hand by his wide dereliction of the duties of a creature, a subject, a child. Before the awful justice and unsullied purity of his Judge, he was self-condemned. All that he felt able to do was, by sacrifice, or even by self-torture, to attest the depth of his humiliation, and with an agonized heart to implore the mercy, of which he traced no sign in the inflexible or- der of nature ; in the heavens, wlrose eternal silence the voice of pardon had not broken ; or in the earth, whose soil had not yet been trodden by any God-sent messenger of recon- ciliation. Hence groaned the altars with slaughtered hecatombs. Hence, in the stress of remorseful terror, flowed the blood of the first-born to expiate the father's transgression. Hence weary pilgrimages, and lacerations of 10 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. the flesh, and readings of its living fibre, and self-immolations at the shrines of a deluded faith. But all this has been removed by the new and living way. In the sacrifice of Christ, mercy and justice meet ; righteousness and peace embrace each other. All that se- parated between man and God has been rent away ; the veil that hid the holy of holies is torn down ; and he who has seen Christ has seen the Father. Our ill-desert is none the less; but reconciliation has been proclaimed, and sealed on the cross. Repentance has no additional intrinsic merit to cancel sin, and to avert its righteous penalty ; but, in the peace- speaking blood, there is mercy which rejoices against judgment. Man can urge no added claim in his own right ; but he can come as an erring and guilty child, and cast himself on the eternal love of the Father, whom Christ alone reveals and manifests. The living way, — oh! it is of unspeakable worth. None felt themselves repelled from the Saviour. The despised and rejected of CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. 11 men fell with contrite tears at his feet. The sinful, in their penitence, were drawn to him by the very intensity of their guilt and need. Those, in whom right purpose struggled with conscious infirmity, were strengthened by his words of good cheer and promise. All that was worthy in them felt the might of his sympathy ; all that was evil yielded its hold on the hearts which were opened to his influ- ence. In his prayer for his murderers, in his death for a guilty race and world, there was love such as man had not seen or conceived. When we are taught to regard him as the image, the earthly manifestation, of God, then, for the first time, do we know and feel what it is to call God our Father. Yes, it is in him alone that we behold the Father. In him the Father comes forth to meet the penitent child, to throw around him the arms of eter- nal love, to open to his returning steps the everlasting mansion. Thus, in all the assur- ance, confidence, certainty, with which we can now lift our praises and our prayers ; in all 12 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. that makes our Christian worship a loving service, — whenever our lips utter the blessed word Father, and a child's heart is borne heavenward in the utterance, — we are tread- ing the new and living way which Christ hath opened ; or, rather, which Christ is. But, my friends, glad and precious as this thought is, it has for us its solemn admoni- tion. If we come to God as to our Father, we can come only as his children, with filial love, with implicit trust, with obedient desire and purpose. In the Christian temple, above all, is the heartless service abhorrent. He, who stoops to the prayer of the penitent and the desire of the contrite, can have no response for the empty voice and the vacant show of a worship in which the soul cries not, with yearning love, " Abba, my Father ! " With this full and clear revelation of paternal mer- cy, there is only cast a deeper guilt, a surer condemnation, on those who will not love and trust and obey the Father thus revealed. As, then, we welcome the Saviour's advent, oh! let CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. 13 us take him to our hearts as the type and pledge of the Father, from whom he came ; and, through that one Mediator, let our vows of profound gratitude and entire self-consecra- tion go up to Him who has loved us with an everlasting love. II. We next consider Christian worship as to what it demands of the individual wor- shipper. Under every other system than the Christian, worship has been regarded as at least in some degree separated from cha- racter. Though, through the inspired pro- phets, there was the clear foreshining of a more spiritual dispensation, yet in Judaism, as held and practised by the overwhelming majority of the nation, there was an entire divorce between the worship and the life ; and those who were the most punctilious in ordinances were the most unscrupulous in morals ; fasting twice a week, and devouring widows' houses ; paying tithes of mint, anise, and cumin, and neglecting justice and charity. But, under Christ, the life is the worship. 14 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. The law of truth and right is the rubric, common speech and daily deeds the ritual, of devotion. We are to eat and drink, and do whatever we do, to the glory of God. We are to pray without ceasing. God is to have a part in every thought and purpose and act. All the ground on which we tread is hallowed ground : we never pass beyond temple-gates. Our homes are to be sanctuaries ; our fami- lies, churches ; even the house of merchandise, our Father's house. The idea which we are wont to express by sacred time, holy place, and other similar phrases, is utterly unchris- tian. The gospel does away the old distinc- tion between the common and the consecrated, not by desecrating the consecrated, but by hallowing the common ; by levelling, not downward, but upward. Thus it forbids oaths, but endows every word we utter with the sanctity of an oath. It enjoins no fasts ; but it would crown our feast-days with more than the devotion of a fast. Thus, also, it lifts up the six working days to the sabbath- CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. 15 level of holy time ; and makes whatever may be the scene of duty, suffering, or joy, no less than the formally dedicated temple, the house of God and the gate of heaven. Yet, by this very process, fresh honor and added sanction are given to the sabbath and the sanctuary ; to the one as the divinely designated season, to the other as the fitting place, for kindling, reviving, and feeding the flame, which, dur- ing the working days and in the outside world, must often be kept alive in stifling air, or dense mists, or dreary wastes that yield no fuel. To state, in brief, the distinction : in other religions, rites and ordinances are wor- ship : in Christianity, they sustain and nourish worship. The gospel, then, unseats them only to establish them on a firmer basis ; casts them down from the cloud-built eminence of an arbitrary enactment, a factitious sanctity, and a talismanic efficacy, to lay the foundation for them in needs and utilities co-extensive with the race of man, and lasting as the life of man upon the earth. 16 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. The identification of worship with the entire life is of the highest practical value. It at- taches to all that we say and do the solemnity of an altar-service ; and brings to bear on the details of business and recreation, on the cares and duties of home, on those little things in which we are so prone to relax our watchful- ness and diligence, yet which set the current and determine the drift of character, the same infinite motives that are owned and suggested in our prayer and praise. We depart to our own injury and peril from the spirit of Chris- tian worship, whenever, even in thought, we separate from it aught that can bear the name of duty. The old theologians used to talk about the first and second tables of the Deca- logue, — the first religious, the second moral. There were, indeed, two tables ; probably be- cause it was easier for Moses to carry two than one. But neither is more religious than the other. Truth and honesty are as much a part of God's worship as reverence and sab- bath-keeping. In like manner, moralists have CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. 17 divided duties into religious, social, and per- sonal, — a division which may sometimes be convenient for reference, but which has no basis in the nature of things : for its religious- ness, its being of divine enactment, its being a part of worship, enters into the definition of duty ; and that which forms no portion of the daily, continual sacrifice required upon the altar of God, is not a duty. Here, too, we are led in worship by the liv- ing way. The perfectness, the solemnity, the religiousness, of the Saviour's common life, the consecration that rested on his every word and act, his manifest dwelling in the bosom of the Father while he walked among men, is the one type and pattern of perpetual worship, shows us how the life may be all praise, illus- trates the living sacrifice, and urges all who would follow Christ to glorify God alike with body and with spirit, and, in all times and in all places, to lift up holy hands and adoring hearts. 18 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. III. We will now consider Christian wor- ship as regards the relations into which it brings ns with our race. We pray not to my Father, but to our Father ; and of the world- wide sweep of the our we bear witness when we add. " Thy kingdom come." As we use our Lord's Prayer, it is only from this out- going of the heart, this contemplation of the sovereignty of God over all, this owning of a brotherhood broad as the universe, that we narrow our petitions to our own individual wants and needs. In this respect, Christianity stands alone. All other religions, Judaism ex- cepted, have been more or less caste-religions, either sanctioning the factitious distinctions of class, title, or descent, or else borrowing the aid of superstition to set up more cruel and invidious barriers between man and man. Thus the Bramin is too holy, the Pariah too vile, to touch the person or share the food of the member of another caste. The purest of the Grecian philosophers promised immor- tal life with the gods only to those of philo- CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. 19 so})] iic culture ; while the souls of even the best men from among the common people were to tenant the bodies of ants, wasps, and bees. In the great Roman epic, ^Eneas finds in the Elysian fields none but poets, heroes, and men of renown. The Hebrews, indeed, under the divine guidance, formed a common- wealth ; but, if we except the more clear- sighted of their prophets, they had fellow- feeling for Jews alone, and their fierce ban rested on the nations beyond the pale of their covenant. Among the earliest arguments against Christianity, we find repeated and con- temptuous mention of its overpassing social and national distinctions ; of its extending its teachings and its hopes to the poor and the illiterate ; of its embracing in its charities all sorts and conditions of men. This feature was urged by Jew and Gentile as conclusive evidence against the divinity of the gospel ; nay, as shutting out its claims from rightful tolerance. In fine, the Pharisee's prayer, " God, I thank thee that I am not as other 20 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. men," is the type of all extra-Christian wor- ship. But the Christian cannot stand thus by himself when he prays. He cannot bring his own little cup to the fountain of living water, and get so much as a drop to allay his thirst. It is only when he is ready to offer the cup to every thirsty soul, that the waters flow for his own need. That is not Christian worship, where the highly privileged congregation wrap themselves in their own self-complacency ; re- joice in the quiet affluence of their own spirit- ual estate, in the walls of peace and bulwarks of salvation that surround their own fold ; while they ignore or scorn the heathenism and moral destitution, whether close around them or in the uttermost parts of the earth ; and omit from their counsel, prayer, and ef- fort, inveterate wrongs, time-indurated evils, giant forms of guilt, and profound depths of misery. Such worshippers may be at ease ; but it is not in Zion. They may offer prayer and praise ; but it is not to the Father of the CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. 21 Lord Jesus, who will have all men to be saved. They may commune at a table spread in the solemn form and spotless beauty of holiness ; but it is not the table of Him whose nearest follower and most authentic inter- preter directs that prayer and supplication be made for all men. Christian worship is in itself a philanthropy broad as the race, deep as the needs of humanity. In this philanthropic worship we are guided by the living way. Jesus, in his single person- ality, runs through the entire scale of being. In the form of God, in the lowliest fortunes of humanity ; rich beyond thought, poorer than the poorest ; in the bosom of the Father, with no spot on earth where to lay his head ; her- alded by angels, crucified with malefactors ; adored by the hosts of heaven, buffeted by the meanest and coarsest of the children of men, — he comprehends in these contrasts all estates, and, by his exaltation above the high- est and his brotherhood with the lowest, makes of all one family. He, too, overpasses all na- 3 22 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. tional barriers. Arabian sages brought their gifts to his manger-cradle ; among the first subjects of his divine charity were the Samari- tans, with whom the Jews had no dealings ; and his parting words command the preach- ing of the gospel, in all the world, to every creature. We have, then, for the characteristics of Christian worship, its object, — the Father, God ; its ritual, — the consecrated life ; its spirit, — universal charity and love. To this worship we renew the dedication of our house of prayer. To this we hallow these enlarged walls, with all that art and skill have wrought within them to make the place of our assem- bling a meet offering to the Most High. Of the tender, loving spirit, of the pervading, penetrating power, of the world-wide charity, of this worship, may those who shall stand in this pulpit bear faithful testimony ! As we come to this altar, may it be, not to spend an isolated hour in holy musing, but to pour out the treasured experiences of our daily devo- CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. 23 tion and our constant beneficence, and to •carry hence quickening thoughts for perpe- tual, lifelong communion with our Saviour ! At this font may there be sealed the baptism, not to sacred names alone, but to the love of the Father ; to the following of the Lamb, whithersoever he goeth ; to the reception and the diffusion, in pure example, kindly en- deavor, and broadcast philanthropy, of the grace of the Holy Spirit ! As the stirring notes of this majestic organ wake the heart and attune the voice to the high praise of God, may they deepen our religious affec- tions, start the quickened throb of obedient purpose, and impart generous impulses that shall be felt in our whole life among men ! Thus may we, and those who shall come after us in far-off generations, here worship the Father in spirit and in truth ! And now let every heart be lifted in praise for that wonderful, glorious advent, whose hour was struck on angel-harps over the hill- 24 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. tops of Bethlehem ; that birth in which was born all that can give pure joy on earth, — all that, can feed the hope full of immortality. As we surround our tables, and gather about us those dear to us as our own souls, let fer- vent thanks go forth to Him whose gospel has created home, woven its indissoluble bonds, inbreathed its virtues and its charities, inter- twined the heart-fibres of its holy sympathies and loves. As, in our gatherings, there come up dear memories of the pure and lovely, the true and faithful, the innocent babe and the mature in age and goodness, translated before us to the heavenly society, let solemn grati- tude ascend to Him in whom those who were on earth united are not separated by death ; and through whom we know, that, if one in him with those who sleep in him, we shall see them eye to eye in the resurrection of the just. And as this anniversary marks for us a new stage of our passage onward in the great procession from dust to dust, oh ! let CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. 25 our hosannas go up, from hearts that feel the power of his resurrection, to Him in whom alone the dead live ; and who hath said, " He that believeth in me shall never die." II. CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. Preached on Sunday, Dec. 26, 1858. John x. 30 : "I and my Father are one." rpHTS text is sometimes quoted in support of the doctrine of Christ's union with God as a person in the Trinity. But I can- not conceive of its heing so quoted by any honest man who can read the Greek of the New Testament. Such is the grammatical form of the word rendered one, that it cannot possibly mean one person or one being-. The literal translation of the passage is, "I and my Father are one thing; " that is, " Our pur- pose and aim, as to the subject of discourse, — the safe-keeping of the flock, — is the same. I CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. 27 will not suffer them to be plucked out of my hand : my Father will not suffer them to be plucked out of his hand." The construction is the same as in the prayer of our Saviour in the seventeenth chapter of St. John's Gospel, where he says, " The glory which thou gavest me I have given them, that they may be one even as we are one." Thus our text can de- note no other union between Christ and God than that which subsists among all the mem- bers of Christ's body ; namely, the union of feeling, will, and endeavor. But while, as a proof-text for that one dis- puted doctrine, our text has no weight what- ever, it seems to me full of rich, tender, and encouraging significance. It closes that sur- passingly beautiful parable of the sheep and the shepherd. Jesus has represented by the most touching imagery his own care and love for his flock ; his readiness to do all and suffer all for them ; nay, even to lay down his life for them : and now, to add force to these as- surances, he connects the Father's name with 28 CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. his own in his mission and ward of redeeming mercy. " My Father, which gave them me, is greater than all ; and none is able to pluck them out of my Father's hand. I and my Father are one.'' Let me now exhibit to you, by illustrations derived from what might take place in a hu- man family, the view of our Saviour's office which seems to me inconsistent with the sen- timent of the text, and the view which forces itself upon my own mind, and which I would gladly leave in connection with these words in your minds. In the first place, suppose yourself, my hearer, the wayward, disobedient child of a father, virtuous indeed, and kind to those who really deserve his kindness, but inexo- rably rigid in his adherence to what the world calls justice. He is angry with you for your misdoings. He has driven you from his house, and threatened to disinherit you, and to have nothing more to do with you. You, however, are sincerely penitent ; you acknow- CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. 29 ledge your father's claims upon you ; you long to be received home again, and to show the genuineness of your repentance by an altered life and character. Still that threat remains, and he deems himself bound in honor not to recall it. At this juncture a compas- sionate friend intervenes, who feels deeply for your orphaned, outcast condition, and deter- mines to do all that he can to restore you to your father's house. He goes to your father, and endeavors to appease his anger, to revive his paternal tenderness for you, and to recon- cile him to you. He succeeds only with great difficulty ; and, in order to satisfy your father's sensitiveness to the word which has gone from him that he will not receive you again, he even offers to take upon himself a punishment which shall be set off in the scales of justice against the penalty you merit. Now, you would never say of such a friend, that he and your father were one. They are as far apart as two beings can be. The one is all stern, legal justice ; the other, all love. The one, 30 CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. retaining the name, has lost the heart, of a father ; the other, without the name, has a fa- ther's heart. I will make now a different supposition. You are, I will imagine, wayward and disobe- dient ; and, of your own accord, you have left your father's house. But you now sincerely repent. Your first thought is, " My offences are too great to be forgiven." You know that you have deserved very ill of a father who was always kind to you. You are afraid to cross his threshold. You dread lest his justice may be too severe to receive you again to his favor. You impute to him the harsh thoughts, feelings, and judgment for which you know that you have given only too just cause. But your father takes the work of reconciliation into his own hands. He sends to you a dear friend of his, charged to tell you that your father loves you as well as he ever did ; that your guilt has not made him your enemy ; that his arms and his house are freely open to you, whenever you will return. This CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. 31 friend seeks you out ; tells you that he has come .at your father's request ; talks to you tenderly of your father's inalienable kindness and affection ; holds forth every representa- tion that can be of avail to induce you to go back to your forsaken home. To impress you the more profoundly with the truth of his words, he partakes with you in the trials and sufferings of your exiled condition, and makes heavy and painful personal sacrifices while he is with you ; assuring you all the while, that, in what he endures for love of you, he is only manifesting the intensity of your father's love for you. Now, of that friend you would feel that he and your father were one ; for, in all that he said, did, and suffered, you would look right through him into your father's heart. These illustrations represent two widely dif- ferent theories with reference to the mission and office of Christ. According to one of these theories, we all rest for our sins under an inexorable sentence of condemnation and 32 CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. eternal punishment. This sentence cannot be turned away by our penitence. The penalty, or its equivalent, must be somehow borne, — if not by us, by a substitute who shall take upon himself the sufferings due to us under the divine justice. Jesus interposes to appease the divine displeasure. He offers himself in our stead to shame and agony. He satisfies for us the stern demands of justice ; and God accepts the punishment of this innocent being instead of our punishment. Now, I maintain, that, according to this theory, God and Christ are not one, but opposite parties. Nor can I, on this ground, attach any meaning to such scriptures as, " God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself;" or, " God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son." For scripture appropriate to this dogma, I must turn away from the New Testament to the well-known hymn : — " Rich were the drops of Jesus' blood, That calmed His frowning face ; That sprinkled o'er the burning throne, And turned the wrath to grace." CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. 33 Indeed, one fatal objection to the theory now under consideration is, that there is no inti- mation of it in the New Testament, — not one word about the necessity of reconciling God, about substituted or vicarious punishment, or about the impossibility of God's freely forgiv- ing the sins of the penitent. Many, however, allege their own felt need as their reason for accepting this theory. They say that they are conscious of guilt, which, in its very nature, cannot be forgiven ; that they dare not trust the divine mercy in and of itself; that they cannot come to God with any confidence, except through the blood of the innocent victim. I admit the reality of these feelings. They form, and have formed, a part of the religious experience of thousands upon thousands. But they are a need created by the very doctrine which satisfies it. In the earthly relation of father and child, if you so misapprehended your kind father's character as to suppose that on no account whatever he would pardon you, nothing could give you 34 CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. assurance of your favorable reception at home, unless some one took upon himself the punish- ment due to you. In like manner, if your views of the divine character forbid you to believe that God can freely forgive sin, you can suppose yourself forgiven only when a substitute appears to suffer in your stead. The other theory is this. Man had, by ac- cumulated guilt, merited the divine displea- sure, and incurred the inevitable retribution which must follow on the steps of unrepented sin. But God, who can hate nothing that he has made, looked with ineffable pity on the self-degraded and sin-ruined race. He saw in the manifestation of his own eternal love the only force which could overcome the power of sin ; which could call forth sincere contri- tion, and the will and endeavor to return to duty. He therefore sends from his throne one who shall assume the form, bow to the trials, and bear the sufferings, of his alienated and guilty children ; and, while mingling with them in the profoundest compassion and love, CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. 35 shall manifest only the fulness and tenderness of the divine pity. He appoints for this Mes- senger from heaven death under circum- stances of ignominy and bitter agony, because thus only can love manifest its sincerity and intenseness ; and, in this dying love, he pours out the rich fountain of his own paternal mercy. It is his own sacrifice ; and, in the pleadings with ungrateful man which go forth from that cross, it is the Father's voice we hear ; it is the Father that is incarnated in that holy Sufferer. Every look and accent of the Saviour's love is a reflection of the always reconciled countenance, an utterance of the always tender words and gracious promises, of Him who fills the throne of the universe. In this view, Christ and the Father are one. They are not opposing parties, but consenting wills and counsels, in the work of redemption. Do you ask, however, " Was it not essential that God should, in some way, or by the pun- ishment of some victim, manifest his hatred of sin ? " I answer, that hatred of sin is not 36 CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. displayed by the punishment of the innocent. Such a procedure would, on the contrary, evince an utter indifference to those moral distinctions which have their eternal seat in the divine attributes. God manifests his ha- tred of sin in that uniform and inevitable retribution which follows sin so long as it lasts, and which ceases only when its cause is removed. Nevertheless, the cross, among its many offices, does manifest, as it is mani- fested in no other way, the intrinsic loath- someness of sin, — of all sin ; for it was pre- cisely such sins as we are all most liable to which crucified the only sinless Being that ever trod the earth, and consummated that outrage from which the very heavens with- drew their light. Yes, in that cross, in which we look upon the fulness of the divine love, we equally behold the intensest manifestation of human depravity : and its searching, wither- ing rebuke rests on you and me for the sins we have cherished ; for the motions of sins in our hearts ; for the least seeds of those pas- CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. 37 sions which culminated in the death of him who came to dethrone and destroy them. There is yet another aspect in which I wish to present the sentiment of our text, " I and my Father are one." While I consider our Saviour as at the head of God's spiritual family, and render to him honor, adoration, and praise, limited only by the homage due to his Father and ours, I cannot set aside or explain away his words, " The Father is greater than I ; " nor can I regard as self- derived that which he in solemn prayer terms " the glory which Thou hast given me ; " nor can I suppose that he is praying to himself when he prays to God. But then comes the question, " Can you rely on a created being ? Can you trust in less than an almighty Sa- viour ? " I reply unhesitatingly, No. My soul can rejoice only in the Lord ; my spirit can be glad only in God my Saviour. I can lean on nothing less than Omnipotent Love. But let us try the issue here involved. In a transac- tion between man and man, an agent comes 4 38 CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. to you with authentic credentials, with a power of attorney from a person with whom you have important business. You do not trust that agent in his own character, but only as the representative of his employer. His signature is to all intents, and for all uses, his employer's signature. His contract with you, you can maintain as against his employer ; and all the authority of the State is with you to enforce your claim. The power of attorney makes the agent and his principal one : they are one in the eye of the law, and by every rule of justice and equity. An am- bassador comes from France or England with full power to negotiate a treaty with our government. The terms of the treaty are agreed upon with the cabinet at Washington, and ratified by the Senate. It is regarded as a treaty, not with the plenipotentiary, but with his queen or his emperor, — with the go- vernment that gave him his credentials. He and the government he represents are one, and are held as one by the law of nations and CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. 39 the universal sentiment of mankind. Thus, when Christ comes, and shows in his miracu- lous birth, in his divine character and works, in his resurrection and ascension, credentials from God which cannot be forged, he and his Father are thenceforth one. His words are God's words; his law, God's law; his pro- mises, God's promises. He represents the Almighty. If he comes from God, God comes to us in his person. He, whom mortal eye else has not seen, is made visible in this his fully accredited agent. Our trust for pardon and salvation is not reposed in a created being, — not even in " the First-born of every creature ; " but in Him who is from eternity to eternity. "The most high God is our refuge; and underneath are the everlasting arms." Here, then, with all their differences, Chris- tian believers are virtually agreed. All alike depend on an almighty Saviour. Through Jesus we go to God; and God draws nigh to us, and reveals himself to our familiar know- 40 CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. ledge and intimate communion. The whole worth of Christ's mission depends on the one- ness ascribed in our text to the Father and the Son, — their oneness of will and purpose, love and mercy. It is this oneness which renders the contemplation of our Saviour's character so intensely interesting. In learning what he is, we enter into the mind and heart of God. In comprehending more and more of his love, we learn how tender and faithful is the affection cherished for us by Him who gave and who sustains our being. In imitating Jesus, we become followers of God. I close with a thought suggested by our text, in the connection in which it stands. This one- ness of the Son with the Father is urged solely by way of encouragement, at the close of one of the kindest and most encouraging of all our Saviour's discourses. The idea is, " We are one in our desire and endeavor to bring and keep together the flock of the redemption-fold ; we are united in the most assiduous and loving pastorate for all who will place themselves un- CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. 41 dcr our charge." Now, it seems to me that the opposite feeling to this is prevalent in some quarters, — a feeling which not unfrequently dis- courages and disheartens those who have every reason to take to themselves the promises and hopes of the gospel. The feeling is as if the door of the fold were jealously guarded, — as if some harsh and severe porter stood there to challenge those who desire to enter, — as if there were a stern and censorious inquisition through which alone one can pass in. Many remain without because they cannot hope to enter through such an ordeal ; while many more, who have really crossed the threshold, are so much agitated by doubt and fear, that they know not whether they are within or with- out. Now, the whole tone of our Saviour's discourses is that of free invitation, full recep- tion, cordial welcome, wherever desire and pur- pose, love and endeavor, are directed toward duty, God, and heaven. Though the door is not wide enough to admit willing guilt or cold indifference, yet it seems to me so wide, and so 42 CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. wide-open always, that one may almost enter without knowing it. There are, I think, many Christians who dare not call themselves so ; and the very solicitude which many feel lest they may have been presumptuous in taking upon themselves the Saviour's name, is a soli- citude that could hardly be cherished where there was good reason for it. " To this man will I look, saith the Lord, — to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word." Should not we, who have our place within the visible fold of Christ, be, in this regard, one with our Father and our Saviour ? I would not bate one jot from the elevated standard of character and conduct which we should propose for ourselves, and urge more by example than by precept upon others. Our lives ought to honor our profession, and to attest the sin- cerity of our faith. But we should be as genial and cordial in our welcome of others to the fold as we are strict in our own self-discipline. Wherever there are Christian desires and pur- CHRIST AND THE FATHER ONE. 43 poses, a face and steps manifestly turned Christ- ward, a looking and striving for the things that are holy and divine, there should we be prompt and warm in our proffers of fellowship, feeling that the work of grace is there begun, and may be cherished and consummated, though not without divine aid, yet more surely and effect- ually by human sympathy and helpfulness. While the Spirit of God, and the Bride, which is the Church of Christ, say, " Come," let those who for themselves have accepted the invita- tion say, " Come." Let them echo and pro- long the loving call, and, in the name of the great Master of the household, extend its hos- pitality wherever they can find a willing and thankful guest. " Let whosoever will, come, and take of the waters of life freely." III. HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. Preached Jan. 30, 1859. 1 Kings viii. 57 : " The Lord our God be with us, as he was with our fathers." |~T was my intention to give you, on the twenty-fifth anniversary of my ordina- tion, a sketch of the history of the South Parish ; but it seemed best to postpone this till we should be re-assembled in our usual place of worship. I propose to make our parochial history the subject of my sermons this and the next Sunday afternoon. I shall pass rapidly over the ecclesiastical affairs of the town, till the period when the South Church first had its separate existence. The earliest settlement within the present limits of Portsmouth was made in 1623 ; the HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 45 first church was gathered, and the first mini- ster settled, in 1671. From this delay, too unfavorable inferences might easily be drawn as to the religious character of our fathers. There is, indeed, no doubt that, while in the colonization of Massachusetts religious motives were foremost, the planters on the Piscataqua established themselves here chiefly for pur- poses connected with commerce and the fisher- ies. Yet that higher cares and interests were not neglected, we may learn from the fact, that, as early as 1640, a grant of fifty acres of land — three-fourths of it at the head of the Creek, the remainder in this now compact part of the city — was made for the support of the gospel mini- stry. The terms of that grant imply that there were already standing, on the glebe-land, a cha- pel and parsonage, erected, it may be, several years earlier. But most of the settlers were attached to the church of England, whose per- manent ministrations it was difficult to procure, and still more difficult to defend against the hos- tile and intrusive jurisdiction of the Massachu- 46 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. setts Bay Colony. The chapel and parsonage occupied a site on what is now Pleasant Street, abutting, on the north, upon the present site of the Universalist Church. The twelve and a half acres of glebe-land extended from that spot to the present front line of the North Church, and were bounded by lines of the same length running westward. Richard Gibson, an Episcopalian, is the first clergyman known to have officiated here ; and his ministry was ar- rested by a summons before the General Court, at Boston, for some alleged offence against the government of Massachusetts. After his departure, various clergymen, probably both Episcopal and Puritan, were transiently em- ployed. The chapel was perhaps found too small for the increasing population ; and, at the same time, was in the outermost suburbs of the town, which was built principally on the bank of the river, and extended, in a southerly direction, from what is now the foot of Court Street. Accordingly, in 1G58, a new meeting-house was HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 47 erected on the hill below the South Mill Bridge, at the present junction of Water and South Streets. This was a substantial building of sixty feet by thirty, with galleries, a low belfry and a bell, the windows with diamond panes set in lead. It originally had no pews ; the men and women being seated on opposite sides of the main floor, according to their respective claims to precedence, and the boys and girls occupying places in opposite galleries. Pews were subsequently built, in various parts of the edifice, by individual worshippers. A cage, a pillory and stocks, in the early New-England fashion, brought the terrors of the law into close proximity to the milder ministrations of the gospel. Rev. Joshua Moody commenced preaching here about the time of the completion of this meeting-house ; and, in 1671, was ordained over a church of nine members then organized. In 1684, the persecution and determined hostility of Cranfield, the royal governor, compelled him to leave the Province : and he officiated for 48 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. several years as assistant minister of the First Church in Boston ; making, however, frequent visits to his flock here, aiding them by his counsel, and observing, by special exercises of devotion in their behalf, all their stated sea- sons of fasting and prayer. In 1693, he re- turned to Portsmouth, and remained in the assiduous exercise of his pastorate till 1697 ; when he died at Boston, whither he had gone for medical advice. He was an eminently ju- dicious, devout, and faithful minister ; and left his church united and prosperous, one hundred and sixty members having been added during his term of service. He was succeeded by Rev. Nathaniel Rogers, son of the President of Harvard College ; a man of high reputation for learning, piety, and usefulness. It is during his term of office that our separate history commences. Population had gradually extended back from the river, and northwardly from the Mill Dam ; till, early in the last century, there had sprung up a rivalry and collision of interests HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 49 between the old part of the town and the new. At the south end lived, for the most part, the descendants of the original settlers, among whom were the stoutest workers, the most active citizens, and, as was natural, the most resolute conservatives. The northern portion of the town was much more thinly peopled, and was inhabited, in part, by government officials of considerable income and influence ; in part by new-comers, who had built more ample mansions, and laid out grounds on a larger scale than they could easily have found room for in the somewhat crowded village about the Mill Dam. As I understand the condition of things, within the more compact portion of the town, numerical strength was on the side of the southern, the preponderance of wealth and personal influence on that of the northern, fac- tion. The latter supplied the deficiency in numbers by securing the co-operation of the inhabitants of what is now Greenland ; promis- ing them, in return, aid in obtaining speedy incorporation as a separate town. The meet- 50 HISTORY OP THE SOUTH PARISH. ing-house near the Mill Dam was the property of the town as a municipal body ; and the funds for the support of the ministry were assessed and collected as a part of the tax for municipal purposes, there being as yet no legal distinction between the town and the parish. The meet- ing-house needed extensive repairs, in order to its continued occupancy ; and, in 1712, a vote was passed for the erection of a new house of worship on the north-east corner of the glebe- land, — the same building which was recently removed to make room for the present North Church. Jan. 7, 1713, the church passed a vote, directing Mr. Kogers to preach at the new meeting-house on and after the third Sun- day from that date. I am inclined to think that this order was complied with, and that, for several months, the inhabitants all met for wor- ship in the new edifice. Meanwhile deep dissatisfaction was brooding at the south end ; and the party that felt itself aggrieved found a resolute leader in John Pick- ering, second of the name. He was, we have HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 51 reason to believe, a man of no common ability, and of wonderfully versatile powers and accom- plishments. He owned and managed the south mill. He was a licensed innholder. He com- manded a military company. He was a car- penter ; and constructed, by contract with the town, the apparatus for the punishment of evil- doers, which stood hard by the meeting-house. He was a lawyer, and appeared as counsel before the Supreme Court, in a case involving the titles to a large portion of the real estate of his fellow-citizens. He was a member of the Assembly for twelve years, and Speaker of that body for nine. He evidently was, and de- served to be, a popular man ; and, though he undoubtedly carried into ecclesiastical affairs a temper ill befitting such high and sacred con- cerns, there is equally little doubt that he acted in behalf of what he believed to be the right and interest of his friends and neighbors. Sept. 9, 1713, a town-meeting was held, of which he was chosen moderator. The meeting became tumultuous ; and the justices present 52 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. declared it dissolved, and forbade all farther proceedings. Notwithstanding this, Picker- ing put, and his party carried, several votes, of which he kept the minutes, and entered them on the town-record, the town-clerk re- fusing to act : the purport of these votes being, that the old meeting-house is, and shall for ever be, the town meeting-house, to be replaced, when no longer tenan table, by another on the same spot ; and that the glebe-land shall be for the use and benefit of the minister who shall officiate at the old meeting-house. A commit- tee was then appointed to confer with Mr. Rogers, to ascertain whether he would comply with the tenor of these votes ; and, in case of his refusal, to procure a minister to officiate in the old meeting-house. Mr. Rogers, as was probably anticipated, declined complying with this requisition ; and Rev. John Emerson was invited by the committee to settle over the portion of the inhabitants represented by them. In June of the next year, at a general town- meeting, a committee was chosen to call and HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 53 settle an orthodox and learned minister at the south end ; and it was voted to pay his salary of £100, and to provide for him a house at the charge of the town. This committee ratified the measures taken for the settlement of Mr. Emerson : hut the authorities of the town re- fused to comply with the above-named vote ; and, after several unsuccessful attempts to pro- cure by legal measures the stipulated payment, the South Parish was left to its own resources for the support of its minister. In March, 1715, Mr. Emerson was installed ; Rev. Chris- topher Toppan, of Hampton, giving him the Charge ; and Rev. Caleb dishing, of Salisbury, Mass., and Rev. Theophilus Cotton, assist- ing in the services. The tradition is, that a majority of the church adhered to Mr. Emer- son ; but this was certainly not the case with a majority of the legal voters in church-affairs. Mr. Emerson was the son of Rev. John Em- erson, of Gloucester, Mass. He was born at Ipswich, Mass., in 1670 ; was graduated at Harvard University at the age of nineteen ; was 5 54 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. first settled at Manchester, Mass. ; and was pas- tor of the church in Newcastle from 1703 to 1712. In 1708, he visited England ; was pre- sented to Queen Anne, and was received by her with distinguished favor. His portrait, which many of us have seen, represents unusu- ally attractive and commanding features, and a winning expression of countenance ; and he is reported to have been a man of engaging manners and conversation, and an eloquent and interesting preacher. That he was earnest and faithful in his ministerial office, is evinced by the large accessions to the church during his pastorate. In 1727 occurred what was long called " the great earthquake," which spread terror throughout New England, and was the means of a general religious awakening. In the course of the following year, forty persons were added to Mr. Emerson's church ; and he was so profoundly impressed by the event which had led to this increased seriousness in his flock, that he commemorated its anniversary by solemn religious services, for the residue of HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 55 his ministry. In 1731, the present Old South Meeting-house was built on a site bequeathed to the parish by the John Pickering who had been so largely instrumental in its separate or- ganization. A portion of the disused meeting- house was removed to the site now occupied by Congress Block, where it stood, retaining some of the original windows, till it was taken down to make room for the present edifice. Another portion formed a part of the Old South School- house, a segment of which was removed to Cabot Street, and converted into a dwelling- house. Mr. Emerson offered a prayer, after the raising of the new meeting-house, on a staging fixed in the frame ; and it was his last public service. He died in January, 1732. His successor at Newcastle, Rev. William Shurtleff, was also his successor here. Mr. Shurtleff was born at Plymouth, Mass., in 1689 ; was graduated at Harvard College at the age of eighteen ; and was ordained at Newcastle in 1712. His wife was the sister of Hon. Theo- dore Atkinson. The tradition is, that she mini- 56 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. stered largely to the development of Christian forbearance, meekness, and patience, in her husband, and that her connection with him was the severest trial of his life. She survived him for many years ; and one of my aged parishion- ers, who died a few years after my settlement, distinctly remembered her. I have in my pos- session a piece of plate bequeathed by her for the use of the minister of the South Parish for the time being. She also bequeathed in the same terms a portrait of her husband ; which was un- fortunately suffered to pass into the hands of an antiquary, from whom I have in vain en- deavored to reclaim it. Mr. Shurtleff was a man of good abilities, fervent piety, and glowing zeal. He was warmly engaged in the great revival of religion which commenced, under the preaching of Whitefield, in 1740. Whitefield and Gilbert Tennent visit- ed this town, and preached to immense multi- tudes. At least on one occasion, perhaps oft- ener, Whitefield, on entering the pulpit of the South Meeting-house, found a much larger as- HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 57 sembly outside than the closely packed congre- gation within the walls ; and, by his direction, the pulpit window was removed, and he, stand- ing on the window-sill, preached to the crowds that filled the seats and aisles, covered the hill, and thronged the adjacent streets, yards, en- tries, and windows. In the " Christian History,'' a periodical printed weekly in Boston in 1743 and 1744, there are two letters from Mr. Shurt- leff giving an account of the revival here. With some procedures that certainly savored of wild fanaticism, he describes much that indi- cates a piire and precious spiritual influence, a felt power of divine realities, the awakening of professing Christians to unwonted religious vitality, and the conversion of many that had been opposers and scoffers. On a candid review of the history of that period, we cannot but be- lieve, that though Whitefield was blameworthy, and so subsequently confessed himself, for bit- ter censoriousness in his treatment of the set- tled clergy, and though his itinerancy led to ex- cesses and extravagances which breathed more 58 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. of animal passion than of Christian piety, he yet found in the New-England churches a cold- ness and declension, which, by his instrumen- tality, gave place to an earnest, active, and per- sistent interest in divine things ; and while the still small voice, if it be from God, is to be preferred to more vehement outpourings of religious zeal, far better is the fire or the whirlwind than the apathy of spiritual death. Mr. Shurtleff published several sermons, two of which I have seen. These, and his contri- butions to the " Christian History,'' would lead me to place a high estimate on his ability as a writer, as well as on his faithfulness and efficiency as a preacher. During his ministry, harmony was restored between the North and the South Church ; and, from that time till 1819, their pastors were in the habit of fre- quent interchange and union in the services of religion. He died in 1747 ; and his remains were deposited, as were those of his successor, under the communion-table of the South Meeting-house. HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 59 The pulpit remaining vacant, in 1749 the parish sent two of their number to Northamp- ton, Mass., to invite Mr. Job Strong to visit Portsmouth, with a view to his settlement. Mr. Strong was born at Northampton in 1724, and graduated at Yale College in 1747. On leav- ing college, he was recommended to the Com- missioners of the English Society for the Pro- pagation of the Gospel, by David Brainerd, their eminent and devoted missionary, then approaching the close of life, as a suitable per- son to be employed as a missionary to the In- dians of the Six Nations. Mr. Strong received the appointment, and spent several months at Bethel, N.J., with John Brainerd, the brother and successor of David, who presided over a settlement and church of converted Indians. A letter from him to his parents, written from Bethel, is preserved in the last London edition of the Works of Jonathan Edwards. It is cre- ditable equally to his head and his heart ; show- ing nice discrimination in his judgment of what had and what had not been done among the 60 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. Bethel Indians, a kind and sympathizing appre- ciation of all that was hopeful in their state, and an earnest devotion to the work before him. At the same time, the letter is free from cant and extravagance in language ; is singularly calm ; marks a maturity of intellect beyond his years ; and evinces that he had entered his Master's vineyard, not with the hot zeal of a novice, but with the deliberate purpose of one who had counted the cost, and made his life- long choice of the service. From Bethel he started for his destined post in Central New York ; but on reaching Schoharie, then a fron- tier settlement in the wilderness, he was ar- rested by illness, and obliged to return. It was while he was seeking to re-establish his health at his native home, that Matthew Liver- more and Henry Sherburne visited him in be- half of this parish. Mr. Edwards, his pastor and spiritual father, consented that he should go to Portsmouth, only on the pledge of these gentlemen that they would not use their influ- ence toward his settlement here. They kept HISTORY OP THE SOUTH PARISH. 61 their word ; but the parish was not pledged, and very soon gave him a call to become their pastor. He returned a negative answer, and took measures toward resuming his suspended missionary enterprise ; but his health was so far impaired, that he was pronounced inade- quate to a charge involving the utmost expo- sure and fatigue. The call from Portsmouth was then renewed and accepted. He was ordained on the 28th of June, 1749. The ordination sermon was preached by his pastor, Jonathan Edwards, so justly regarded as the greatest mind of his century in theology and metaphysics. I have the sermon. It is a faithful and earnest exhibition of Jesus Christ as the example for his ministers, on the text, " For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you. Yerily, verily, I say unto you, The servant is not greater than his lord, neither he that is sent greater than he that sent him." A curious anecdote with reference to this service is re- lated, in the Memoir of Edwards, by his grand- 62 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. son. A daughter of Mr. Edwards (afterwards Mrs. Dwight, mother of President Dwight), then fifteen years of age, had preceded her father on a visit to a friend of the family in Portsmouth. On the morning of the ordina- tion, Mr. Edwards not having arrived, Father Moody, of York, Me., whose eccentricities have left their enduring remembrance, agreed to preach in case of the failure of the expected preacher. The council delayed as long as pos- sible, and then repaired to the meeting-house. Mr. Moody rose to offer the prayer before ser- mon. In this he besought the Lord that the congregation might be suitably humbled under the frown of his providence, in not being per- mitted to hear the discourse anticipated from his eminent servant, — Rev. Mr. Edwards, of Northampton ; and proceeded to thank God for such a burning and shining light, for his uncommon piety, his great excellence and re- markable success as a preacher, and his talents and wisdom as a writer. He then went on to implore the divine blessing on the daughter of HISTORY OP THE SOUTH PARISH. 63 Mr. Edwards there present, who, though a very worthy and amiable young lady, was still, there was reason to fear, in an unconverted state ; praying that God would not suffer her peculiar privileges to be the means of her more aggra- vated condemnation. Just as this remarkable prayer was commenced, Mr. Edwards had rid- den on horseback to the door of the meeting- house, noiselessly entered the pulpit, and taken his place behind Mr. Moody. When the prayer was closed, Mr. Moody saw Mr. Edwards, gave him his hand, and said to him, in the hearing of the congregation, " Brother Edwards, we are all of us much rejoiced to see you here to-day ; and nobody, probably, as much so as myself: but I wish that you might have got in a little sooner, or a little later ; or else that I might have heard you when you came in, and known that you were here. I didn't intend to flatter you to your face : but there's one thing I'll tell you ; they say " — alluding to the profoundness of his metaphysical subtilty in things pertaining to salvation — " that your 64 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. wife is going to heaven by a shorter road than yourself." Mr. Strong entered with earnestness and vigor upon his labors ; but his ministry lasted little more than two years. One Saturday in Sep- tember, 1751, his only child, an infant of but a few days, was buried. On the next morning he preached from the text, " Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil." He went home but to pre- pare for that fearless passage. Before the hour of afternoon service, he was seized with severe illness ; and died in the course of the next day, leaving long regret and a blessed memory. I have now brought my narrative down to a ministry whose beginnings were fresh in the remembrance of a few of my older parishioners when I was first settled, and whose latter years are within the recollection of the older portion of my present hearers. Next Sunday after- noon, I hope to resume and complete my sketch of our parochial history. IY. HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. (CONTINUED.) Preached Feb. 6, 1859. 1 Kings via. 57 : " The Lord our God be with us as he WAS WITH OUR FATHERS." AST Sunday afternoon, I brought down the history of our parish to the close of Mr. Strong's brief pastorate. His successor was Rev. Samuel Haven. He was born at Framing- ham, Mass., in 1727 ; was graduated at Harvard University in 1749 ; studied theology with Rev. Mr. Parkman, of Westborough, Mass. ; received and declined invitations to settle in Brookfield, Med way, Braintree, and Brookline, Mass. ; ac- cepted a unanimous invitation here, and was ordained in May, 1752 ; Rev. Jeremiah Wise, 6Q HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. of Berwick, Me., preaching the sermon. When a boy of thirteen, he had been greatly impressed by Whitefield's preaching ; and had, from that time, resolved to consecrate himself to the ministry of the gospel. He possessed a large portion of the best endowments for his work, and was for many years one of the most popu- lar preachers of his time ; a fact evinced by the frequency with which he was called upon to officiate on important public occasions. In early life, his delivery was unusually fervent and impassioned. Until a comparatively re- cent period, it was customary here, at funerals, to have an address delivered at the grave : and there are extant numerous testimonials to Dr. Haven's extraordinary pathos and eloquence in that class of services ; in which, said Dr. Buck- minster, " for variety, copiousness, tenderness, and pertinency of address, he was rarely equalled, never exceeded. " His numerous published sermons display clearness of method, simplicity and directness of style, and a free- dom — rare in the last century — from the HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 67 metaphysics and technicalities of doctrinal theo- In his opinions, I suppose thai he should be classed with the Arminian or more liberal portion of the New-England clergy ; who were also called moderate Calvinists, though they were as remote from Calvinism as are the more liberal of the so-called Orthodox divines of the present day. His loving heart led him to speculate with Chauncy on the final restora- tion of the impenitent to the divine favor. But this doctrine he did not regard as a re- vealed truth ; and was, therefore, unwilling to preach it. The only form in which he pro- mulgated it was in a poem devoted to its development, with the following note prefixed : " The author means only modestly to hint the sentiments contained in this ode to the public mind for their consideration." This poem appears in a pamphlet of twenty- three pages, entitled " Poetic Miscellanies," published when Dr. Haven had passed his seventy-first year. The pieces are nearly all 68 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. devotional ; and display, not indeed a poetic ability which would have given the author extended fame, but a warm and vivid fancy, an easy command of various measures, a quick ear for rhythm and euphony, and a high- ly cultivated taste. One of them is an im- promptu epigram, which passed from paper to paper and from mouth to mouth, as the best thing ever said, in brief, about Washing- ton. The question was asked, among a circle of gentlemen who were making arrangements for the reception of the first President, what was the appropriate title by which he should be addressed. Dr. Haven gave instant utter- ance to the following stanza : — " Fame spread her wings, and with her trumpet blew, — ' Great Washington is near ! What praise his due ? What title shall he have ? ' She paused, and said, ' Not one : his name alone strikes every title dead.' " Dr. Haven was singularly assiduous and faithful as a pastor. At a period when the intercourse of most clergymen with their peo- ple was distant, reserved, and formal, he cul- HISTORY OP THE SOUTH PARISH. 69 tivated the most intimate relations with all his parishioners, and with none more intimate than with the children of his flock. He had pursued the study of medicine to a consider- able extent ; and, without interfering with the regular faculty, he was wont to prescribe gratuitously for those too poor to employ a physician. From an income never ample, and with a very large family, he found the means for extensive almsgiving. During the war of the Revolution, when his salary was in arrears, and his resources were scanted in every way, he shared his little with those who had nothing. At one time, there were no fewer than forty widows in his parish ; most of them in desti- tute circumstances. There were living, in the earlier part of my ministry, a considerable number of these pensioners on his kindness ; and I never visited them, without their speak- ing to me of his sympathy, gifts, and efficient services, in the stress of their need. His name was on their lips in the very agony of death. Some of them have told me, that, in the 6 70 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. absence of the public and private charities now so liberally dispensed, his care and gene- rosity were all that stood between them and utter despair. For forty-seven years he preached constant- ly, and performed all the duties of his parish : but, for the last three years of that period, he had been sinking under the infirmities of age ; and, in 1799, a colleague was settled with him, who remained here six years, leaving him again sole pastor for the last year of his life. Shortly after the settlement of his col- league, he preached and published a sermon on the occasion ; which is, I think, the best of all his printed sermons ; and, though it breathes the tender solemnity of one just resigning his charge, betrays no failure in mental vigor, or in clearness and precision of thought. For two or three years longer, he occasionally preached ; and several times, when, too feeble to ascend the pulpit-stairs, he was obliged to conduct the service in the deacons' seat below. He commonly presided HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 71 at the communion-service till the autumn of 1804 ; and, when I first came hither, there were many living who remembered his im- pressive farewell of the altar at which, for fifty-two years, he had broken the bread of life. For a year and a half before his death, he was in a state of entire mental imbecility, and of great bodily suffering. He died in March, 1806. His wife — who had attended him constantly during his decline, and seemed in her usual health at the time of his decease — survived him but thirty-six hours ; and their bodies were laid together in his family tomb, under the pulpit of the Old South Meeting-house ; Rev. Dr. Buckminster preach- ing the funeral sermon, on the text, " A son of consolation." The early part of his ministry was emi- nently prosperous ; but, a large portion of his parishioners being in mercantile and mari- time professions, the distresses attending the Revolutionary war were felt among them with peculiar severity. When the depression re- 72 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. suiting from this cause was relieved, his strength was rapidly on the wane ; and the popular talents which distinguished him for many years had given place to a diminished energy and eloquence of style and manner. At the same time, Dr. Buckminster, in the North Church, was nearing the meridian of his merited fame ; and bore a reputation for his pulpit services, which, I think, has never been surpassed, if equalled, by any clergyman in New Hampshire. In the early years of the present century also, Elias Smith, the founder of the Christian denomination, commenced preaching in this town ; and, by his rude but commanding and attractive powers, drew into his newly gathered flock large numbers from both of the Congregational societies. The natural consequence of these causes was a marked decline of the South Parish in num- bers and ability ; a decline which would have been much more disastrous, and less easily retrieved, had not several of Dr. Haven's own children — of whom twelve attended his fu- HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 73 neral — already assumed prominent places as citizens, and devoted their substance, services, and influence, with generous zeal, to the in- terests of the religious organization endeared to them by the bonds and associations of filial piety. I spoke of the settlement of a colleague with Dr. Haven. This colleague was Rev. Timothy Alden, a lineal descendant of the John Alden who came to Plymouth in the " Mayflower." He was the son of Rev. Timothy Alden, of Yarmouth, Mass. ; was born in 1771, and graduated at Harvard College in 1794. He was distinguished in college, and subsequent- ly as an Oriental scholar ; and delivered, on taking his degree, a Syriac oration, — probably the only one ever uttered on this side of the Atlantic. He was so well versed in the Hebrew, that he translated into that language the " Assembly's Shorter Cate- chism ; " adding, I suppose, very little to its obscurity. He was ordained here in 1799 ; Rev. Dr. Holmes, of Cambridge, preaching 74 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. the sermon. He was a man of fervent piety, active benevolence, and no mean order of pro- fessional ability. He was an assiduous pastor, and manifested especial solicitude for the good of the children under his charge. He esta- blished what might seem an anticipation of the Sunday school ; gathering the young per- sons of the parish at stated seasons for the recitation of scriptural lessons, and giving printed certificates to those who reached a specified standard. The whole number that attended these exercises was one hundred and thirty-five. His ministry, while it had many elements that promised success, was, nevertheless, a failure. For this there were several reasons. He was a strong Calvinist, and a large ma- jority of his parishioners were opposed to him in theological belief. His support was in- adequate, and he was obliged to devote much of his time to the duties of a school for young- ladies. He lacked worldly wisdom, and in- volved himself in several unfortunate secular HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 75 enterprises. He seems to have had no con- tinuity of purpose ; and, while in labors more abundant, he wasted much of his energy in desultory plans and endeavors. Inability to continue the payment of his salary was the ostensible ground of his dismission ; but this inability would not have existed, had he proved himself in all respects adapted to his situation. After his dismission, he continued his school here for three years ; and was afterward en- gaged in similar schools in Boston, and in Newark, N.J. He subsequently laid the foundations of Alleghany College, at Mead- ville, Penn. ; and was inaugurated as titular President of that institution in 1817. He procured funds for the erection of a spacious college building, collected for his infant semi- nary an admirable library, and obtained for it an excellent chemical apparatus. But his own sons and nephews were almost the only alumni of the college, of which he constituted the entire Faculty; until, in 1831, the fran- chise and property passed into the hands of 76 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. the Methodists, under whose auspices the in- stitution has attained a high degree of pro- sperity. He died at Pittsburg, Penn., in 1839. After Dr. Haven's death, the pulpit was supplied for two years by various clergymen. In December, 1806, St. John's Church was burned ; and, for most of the interval which elapsed before the completion of their present church, the Episcopal congregation occupied, with ours, the Old South Meeting-house ; the same minister not infrequently officiating for both parishes, — reading the Liturgy one part of the sabbath, and using the Congregational forms for the other. In September, 1808, Rev. Nathan Parker was ordained pastor of this church. He was born at Reading, Mass., in 1782; and gra- duated at Harvard College in 1803. He studied his profession with Rev. Dr. Bancroft, of Worcester, Mass., who preached his ordina- tion sermon. To the many still surviving who knew Dr. HIST0IU' OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 77 Parker, and in whose memory his image can never lose its characteristic features, it would be needless for me to do more than mention his name. But I am already surrounded by a generation that have seen only his portrait and his monument. For them I would say, that of manly, Christian, and ministerial ex- cellences, so full and rich an impersonation is seldom found, even among the best and the most gifted. Devout without ostentation, keen- ly discriminating as to character, direct and frank in his intercourse, perseveringly kind, courageous and resolute in difficult and pain- ful duty, assiduous in all the charities of his profession, foremost in every good work for the community, a discreet counsellor, a friend always to be depended on, — his countenance and manner indicating at once the hardiest and the most amiable traits of character, so beautifully blended that you could not say which predominated, — he assumed at once, in the parish and in the town, a place and in- fluence such as few have ever maintained 78 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. among us ; and, had he not confined himself even too exclusively to his duties here, he would have been universally recognized — as he was by all who knew him — as second to no minister of his time and denomination. His fidelity and tenderness as a pastor ; his won- derful power of insinuating needed counsel in his peculiarly laconic style, so as to say all that could be of avail, without the formality of a professional adviser, and without room for the most sensitive to take umbrage ; his loving and efficient sympathy with the afflicted, sick, and dying ; his singular capacity of enlisting and organizing co-operation in his plans of improvement and usefulness, — these are among the unexhausted themes of admira- tion among all who were conversant with his ministry. In his mien and manner as a preacher, there was a simple dignity, an unstudied solemnity, which impressed strangers with unwonted reverence and seriousness, and which only deepened that impression on those who were HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 79 his constant hearers. His sermons were full of sound thought and calmly fervent feeling ; seldom impassioned, never feeble. With little rhetorical ornament, with no display of elo- quence, his simplicity, chasteness, directness, and force of diction, never failed to enchain attention, to arouse earnest interest, and to leave ample food for self-reflection and self- chastening. In examining his manuscripts after his death, with a view to publication, I was astonished and perplexed in finding hardly any sermons that either rose above or fell below the average high order of excellence in thought and style ; and a selection made by one blindfolded would, perhaps, have fur- nished as characteristic and worthy a me- morial of his pulpit services as that which was made with the utmost care and the most diligent scrutiny. At the time of Dr. Parker's settlement, the parish was so feeble that its resuscitation seemed, to many, a hopeless endeavor. From that day, its growing prosperity was an as- 80 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. certained fact. Its increase in numbers was constant and rapid, till checked for lack of church-room. This increase, primarily due to the eminent gifts and graces of the pastor, was largely aided by occurrences connected with the history of the North Parish. Dr. Buckminster's popularity had retained in and drawn into his flock very many who had no sympathy with his Calvinistic creed. At his death in 1812, at least half of his parish were anti-Calvinistic. One of the ministers invited to settle over them — invited by a bare ma- jority on a strictly party vote — was a Uni- tarian, whose settlement was vetoed by the independent vote of the church. To the council convened for the ordination of Rev. Mr. Putnam in 1815, a protest against his settlement was presented, with the signa- tures of from sixty to eighty legal voters of the parish. A large number of these, with their families, soon joined the South Parish. Dr. Parker and Mr. Putnam exchanged minis- terial services till the return of Dr. Parker HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 81 from the ordination of Rev. Jared Sparks, at Baltimore, in 1819. Dr. Channing's sermon at that ordination was a singularly clear and strong exhibition of Unitarian sentiments, with which it was understood that the clergy- men who participated in the service entirely sympathized ; and it was made the occasion, throughout New England, for the suspension of such ministerial intercourse as had been maintained — not very cordially — between the clergymen of the two recognized parties in the Congregational Church. At this time, Mr. Putnam declined the accustomed inter- change of services ; and most or all of the Unitarians, who had till then remained under his ministry, transferred their connection to the South Parish. In 1824, — the South Meeting-house afford- ing restricted accommodations for the members of the parish, and none for its prospective increase, — the corner-stone of the church in which we are assembled was laid. The edifice was completed and dedicated in February, 1826. 82 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. A strong local attachment, with memories too dear to be rudely sacrificed, held some of the parishioners to the house where their fathers had so long met for praise and prayer ; and a respectable body of worshippers formed a new society, and maintained separate services there, with the countenance and aid of the ma- jority who had taken possession of the new church. Had that society been fortunate in the choice of its minister, it might have re- mained in being during Dr. Parker's lifetime ; and, in the change of relations that would naturally have ensued on his decease, would probably have risen to a good degree of strength and prosperity. I am inclined to think that the religious elements of our community would have easily adjusted themselves so as to sustain two permanent and flourishing societies of our faith ; yet not without weakening some of the other parishes, in whose well-being we have reason to rejoice. The society at the South Meeting-house settled a good man, but one whose services failed to command the HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 83 respect and interest of his hearers: and the organization was disbanded in 1829 ; the mem- bers, I believe, without a single exception, rejoining the parish from which they had amicably seceded. For the last few years of Dr. Parker's life, he suffered under an intensely painful and incurable local disease ; which, for a part of the time, incapacitated him for pulpit duty ; though, until within a few weeks of his death, he continued to perform most of his pastoral labors. His patience and energy under the depressing influence of incessant suffering, his continued thoughtfulness and kind offices for all within his sphere, and his meek sub- mission to the divine will, made his days of infirmity and decline eloquent in the cause to which he had consecrated his health and strength. It was believed that his life might be indefinitely prolonged ; and some were so sanguine as to hope, that, after a year's respite, he might resume the full charge of his flock. But it was found necessary to pro- 84 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. cure for him present relief; and I was invited to be his colleague for one year, with the understanding that I should retire at the end of that period, if he should be able to dispense with my services. My ordination was on the 24th of October, 1833. On the evening of that day, Dr. Parker's case assumed, for the first time, an aspect of immediate danger ; and after lingering for a fortnight in the full possession of his mental powers, and in the exercise of all those Christian graces which make the death-chamber seem the ante- room of heaven, he passed to his rest and reward. Into the history of my own pastorate I can- not enter. Such few external events as merit a place on its record are too recent to need recapitulation. On my part, the connection has been one of sincere affection, and earnest endeavor — though with the frequent conscious- ness of inadequacy and failure — for your high- est good ; on yours, of a kindness which merits, and has, my warmest gratitude. HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 85 Did time permit, I should enter into the his- tory of that most important of our subsidiary institutions, — the Sunday School. This, how- ever, I willingly omit ; not because I regard it as of inferior moment to the details which I have given you, but because the work has been so ably and faithfully performed in seve- ral printed reports by the former and present Superintendents. Among the other parochial institutions, I ought to make emphatic mention of the Ladies' Domestic Missionary Society, which has, for forty years or more, pursued its quiet course of usefulness ; furnishing annually a liberal sub- scription to the funds of the Evangelical Mis- sionary Society for the aid of feeble churches, and an equal or larger sum for various pur- poses of religious charity in our own commu- nity. For many years, the Society for Mutual Im- provement was, for a considerable portion of our body of worshippers, among the best means of instruction and edification. The essays read 7 86 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. and the discussions held at its meetings devel- oped a large amount of talent that might not otherwise have found utterance. This associa- tion declined in interest mainly because the establishment of courses of popular lectures threw such ability as was nurtured among our- selves into undeserved neglect, and made many unwilling to enter into what might seem to be a competition with those who wrote professedly and expressly for a larger public. I have given you abridged biographies of my predecessors in the ministry. I regret that my limits preclude more than a cursory mention of the eminently excellent and use- ful men who have borne with the pastor a large part of the charge and burden of the sanctuary ; and of whom we can trace an un- broken series, commencing with the early days of our separate organization. Such, in the last century, were Matthew Livermore, a man of excelling gifts ; holding the most important legal offices under the Crown ; and for fifty years, and with four successive pastors, a de- HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 87 voted and zealous leader in the temporal affairs, and helper in the religious growth and welfare, of the parish ; — Henry Sherburne, a liberally educated and munificent merchant ; whose house was the wonted home of the clergy from abroad ; whose time and ample wealth were freely given to every work and cause of piety and charity ; and whose example of singular sanctity in life and character was all the more conspicuous for his high social position ; — and Samuel Hale, one of the most eminent scho- lars in New England ; the intimate friend and constant co-adjutor of Dr. Haven during his entire ministry ; having become a resident of Portsmouth a little while before Dr. Haven's settlement, and following close upon his foot- steps to the grave. The whole of Dr. Parker's ministry was signally blessed in those who shared and gladdened his labors. Not to speak of the living, in whom we still rejoice ; nor yet to mention the many among the departed, whom I must recall were I to cite more than two, — no pastor can have felt his hands up- 88 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. borne and his work seconded with a sounder discretion, a more loving zeal, and a more truly Christian energy, than were brought to every portion of the altar-service by Nathaniel A. Haven, jun., and John W. Foster, — names as inseparable from the history of this church as they are from the heart-history of the many to whom they held the place of spiritual fathers. In addition to, and often in connec- tion with, services of this kind, we have reason to remember not a few, whose liberal gifts have been bestowed in times of special need, or in- vested for current use in the administration of our charities. Especially ought I to mention the names of Haven and Sheafe, — families with- out whose aid we probably should never have seen this massive and costly house of worship ; the former, a name still borne, and, I trust, long to be borne, among us ; represented, too, in our beautiful communion-service, and in a perma- nent fund for the relief of our poor widows : the latter connected through two donors, father and son, with the greater part of the invested HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. 89 funds of the Sunday School ; and through the generosity of the last of the name who was with us, of a younger generation, with the enlarged, remodelled, and refurnished interior of our church. But I have exceeded my due limits. Yet there was much that I wished to add, — thoughts of gratitude to God, motives to fide- lity in our place and calling in his Church, — which I must leave, for the most part, to your own reflections. We have a history on which we can look back with unmingled satisfaction. No name has come down to us, as connected with the ministrations in our sanctuary, which we may not be glad to own. During the entire period of our corporate existence, our records have been defaced by no public scandal ; by no quar- rel, strife, or division ; by no stain upon the moral or religious character of any office-bearer in our church. Be it our Christian ambition and glory to hand down to another century records as pure as we have received. Above 90 HISTORY OF THE SOUTH PARISH. all, let our names and our life-work be so entered in the register which must wax old and perish, that they shall be worthy of being- transcribed into God's book of eternal remem- brance. APPENDIX. APPENDIX. It has been thought best to preserve, for future reference, the following details, which could not be incorporated into the body of the preceding Dis- courses : — MINISTERS. John Emerson, installed March 23, 1715; died June 21, 1732. William Shurtleff, installed Feb. 2, 1733 ; died May 9, 1747. Job Strong, ordained June 28, 1749; died Sept. 30, 1751. Samuel Haven, ordained May 6, 1752 ; died March 3, 1806. Timothy Alden (colleague), ordained Nov. 20, 1799; dismissed Aug. 12, 1805. Nathan Parker, ordained Sept. 14, 1808; died Nov. 8, 1833. Andrew Preston Peabody, ordained Oct. 24, 1833. DEACONS. y The following persons have officiated as deacons ; viz., Richard Shortridge, James Sherburne, Mark Langdon, Daniel Jackson, Isaac Williams, John Marshall, John Noble, Nadab Moses, John Marshall (son of the former of that name), Jonathan Locke, 94 APPENDIX. Solomon Cotton, John W. Foster, Samuel Hale, Samuel Lord, and James F. Shores, — the two last named holding the office at the present time. THE ORIGINAL CONFESSION AND COVENANT. A Confession of Faith agreed to by the subscribers on the occasion of their combining together in church order. In general, we believe God's word, or the Holy Scriptures, to be the adequate object and only ground of our faith, — as the rule of faith and man- ners; and, therefore, we believe in all things ac- cording to them. More particularly such things as these we believe : — 1. That God is, and that he is a re warder of those who diligently seek him. 2. That this God, who is the living and true God, is but one in essence or being, though threefold, in substance or manner of being; viz., Father, Son, and Spirit. 3. That this God hath made all things for him- self, and does uphold them by the word of his power, and govern them to their ends. APPENDIX. 95 4. That he has formed man in particular for his praise ; and did, at first, make him every way meet and apt therefor, to serve actively thereto. 5. That he gave him a rule to walk by, that he might obtain this end ; which rule is the moral law contained in the Ten Commandments, and was at first fairly written in his heart. 6. That this rule was given him also as a cove- nant of works ; so that, upon his perfect observance of it, he was to be happy for ever ; or, upon a failure in any one point, he forfeited this happiness, and in- curred the contrary, — misery. 7. That, upon the trial that was used with him, — in particular, that of the forbidden fruit, — he failed, fell, broke covenant with God, and rendered himself obnoxious to the penalty of the law, the curse of God, and the wages of sin. 8. That hence he became divested of God's ima^e, unmeet for his service, prone only to sin, and a sub- ject of misery. 9. That God had compassion on him in this fallen and perishing state ; and, when unable to help him- self, mercifully provided for his redemption there- from in and through a Mediator. 10. That of this he made some, though a more dark, discovery to our first parents; afterwards a 96 APPENDIX. more clear one to Abraham, to Moses, and the Pro- phets, during the Old-Testament dispensation. 11. That now he hath made a more clear one; since, in the fulness of time, he hath sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that are under the law. 12. That in and through him, and as founded in him (in whom are all the promises, yea and amen), God hath graciously propounded a new covenant unto men, commonly called the Covenant of Grace. 13. That, of this covenant, there was a twofold dispensation ; viz., that of the Old and New Testa- ment: on the account of which, this latter is, in Scripture, sometimes called a new covenant. 14. That the terms of this covenant are the same for substance under each ; viz., faith, and repentance, or sincere obedience, — as the terms of the covenant of works was perfect obedience. 15. That though impotent of ourselves to perform the terms of this any more than the other, yet Christ has become an undertaker for his, that all that the Father hath given him shall come to him ; and though he does not perform the terms of this cove- nant for them as he has done of the first, yet he enables them to perform them, working in them to will and to do of his good pleasure. APPENDIX. 97 16. That, by complying with the terms of this covenant, we accept of the covenant itself, and of Christ offered therein as our Mediator, our Priest, Prophet, and King ; and are thereby entitled to his benefits ; viz., the forgiveness of sins, the adoption of children, salvation, and life eternal. 17. That there are two seals of this covenant, — viz., Baptism and the Lord's Supper, — which they have right to who take up with the terms of this covenant. 18. That one of these is a beginning seal, — viz., Baptism, which declares us to be of the church of Christ; that the other — viz., the Lord's Supper — is a confirming seal, serving to stablish and strength- en us, and to promote our growing up in faith and love unto perfection : so that this latter is frequently to be repeated ; it being the sacrament of feeding, nourishment, continuance, and growth. But the former must not be more than once; it being the sacrament of our new birth and entrance. 19. That the church of Christ, which is the com- pany of the called, is but one general assembly, called the catholic church, either militant on earth or triumphant in heaven. 20. That the militant part of it is yet divided into manifold congregations or particular churches (as 98 APPENDIX. so many companies under their captain), orderly gathered and settled under such church-officers as Christ has appointed for their greater convenience of worshipping God, of opposing their soul-adversa- ries, and promoting their own edification. 21. That these officers should be orderly called and ordained to their office, according to the rule of Christ ; and, accordingly, should be submitted to and acknowledged in their place ; teaching the doctrine of Christ, and exercising that government and discipline which Christ has set up in his church. 22. That as all believers are of the church catho- lic, so they should be of particular churches ; and that a profession of their faith, with a life agreeable, does qualify them for acceptance as members in full communion with a particular church. 23. That the end of church-communion is to pre- pare and qualify for that which is to be enjoyed in heaven above, after this life. 24. Finally, that there shall be a resurrection of the just and unjust at the last day, and a general and last judgment, whereby the righteous shall be adjudged to life eternal, and shall receive the end of their faith, even the salvation of their souls. APPENDIX. 99 We whose names are hereunto affixed, appre- hending ourselves ealled of God to combine together in church order, confessing our utter unworthiness of so great a spiritual privilege, as well as inability, to keep covenant with the Holy One of Israel, or to perform any duty which he requires, without the aids of divine grace, — We do this day, in the name and strength of Christ Jesus, our glorious Lord, freely covenant and bind ourselves, solemnly, in the presence of God himself, his holy angels, and all his people here present, to serve the God whose name alone is Jehovah, — Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, — the only true and living God ; cleaving to him as our sovereign good and last end. And we acknowledge the Lord Jesus Christ, who is God-man, and supreme Head of the church, and Surety of the new covenant, as our only Mediator and Saviour, Prophet, Priest, and King, of our souls ; promising to submit unto him in the way of gospel obedience. We do likewise take God the Holy Ghost to be our Teacher, Sancti- fier, and Comforter ; under whose gracious influence we do more particularly oblige ourselves to perform private and secret as well as public duties in a perpetual course, and to attend the means of grace and salvation. 100 APPENDIX. Avouching the Lord to be our God, and the God of our children (which we devote and dedicate unto him, for ever to be his consecrated servants) ; esteem- ing it as a distinguishing favor and high honor that the Lord will accept of us, and our seed with us, to be his people, — We do also give ourselves one unto another in the Lord, covenanting to walk together, as God's pecu- liar people and a particular church of Christ are obliged to do, in all the ways of his worship, accord- ing to the holy rules of his word; promising, in brotherly love and Christian charity, carefully to watch over one another's souls, and to submit our- selves to the discipline and power of Christ in his church, and duly to attend the seals and censures, or whatever ordinances Christ hath commanded to be observed by his disciples, so far as the Lord, by his Spirit, word, or providence, has or shall reveal unto us to be our duty. And, that we may faithfully keep our covenant with God and each other, we desire wholly to deny ourselves, and entirely to depend on the free grace of God for assistance, and upon the merits of Jesus Christ for acceptance, and, wherein we shall fail in any part of our duty towards God or our fellow- Christians, to wait on him for pardon through his APPENDIX. 101 name ; beseeching the Lord to own us as a church of Christ, and to delight to take up his gracious and constant abode amon" us. At what time the Covenant given above was changed, it is impossible to determine. The form that was adopted in its place does not appear on the records of the church (which, for a portion of the time, were very imperfectly kept) ; but it is referred to in the following vote, passed March 5, 1809 : " The church having, during their vacancy, lost their form of church-covenant, it was voted that Deacon Marshall and N. A. Haven be united with their pastor (Dr. Parker) as a committee to draught a form, and present it to the church for acceptance." The following form of covenant, reported by the above-named committee, and adopted by the church, March 21, 1809, was said to have been derived, in part at least, from the remembered words of the lost form : — " Believing that there is one God, and one Media- tor between God and man ; that the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments are the word of God, and the only rule of faith and obedience ; that Jesus Christ is the true Messiah, and Son of God ; and 8 102 APPENDIX. that he has appointed two special ordinances, — Baptism and the Lord's Supper, — which it is the duty of all true Christians religiously to observe, — you do now, in an everlasting covenant, dedicate yourself to God in Christ Jesus. You do humbly ask of God the forgiveness of all your sins ; and desire, with all your heart, to accept Jesus Christ as he is offered to sinners in the gospel. You likewise solemnly engage, that, by divine assistance, you will approve yourself a true disciple of Christ Jesus. You particularly promise, that, so long as God shall continue you in the relation which you now com- mence, you will walk in communion with this church of Christ, and will conduct agreeably to the rules of the gospel, according to what you do know or shall know to be your duty. " In the name of Jesus Christ, then, I declare you a member in full communion with the church of Christ ; and, in the name of this church, I promise, that, in the aid of the Holy Spirit, we will conduct towards you as a member of the same body with ourselves ; watching over you for your good with a spirit of meekness, love, and tenderness ; earnestly praying that the Lord would delight to dwell among us, that his blessing may rest upon us, and that his o-lorious kingdom may be advanced. Amen." APPENDIX. 103 It was voted at the same time, " That persons wishing to join in communion with this church be propounded on the Communion-Sabbath immediate- ly preceding the one of their proposed admission ; that the covenant be consented to by such candi- dates by signing it in private, or by owning it before the church previous to admission ; the signing in private, or consenting to it before the church, to be at the election of those proposed for admission." In October, 1842, a committee, consisting of Rev. Mr. Peabody, J. "W. Foster, and Alexander Ladd, was appointed to consider, and report on, a proposed change in the form of covenant, and manner of ad- mission to the church. This committee presented the following form, which was adopted by the church, Jan. 29, 1843 : — Christian Friends, — We regard the Lord's Supper as free to all who can come to it with faith in Christ, and with humble and thankful hearts ; nor would we presume to fence in the holy table by any barrier of man's device. Yet we deem it meet and profitable that the new guests whom we welcome to this feast of love should make such profession of Christian faith and of Christian purpose as may 104 APPENDIX. fulfil the command of our blessed Master to confess him before men, that so he may confess us before his Father who is in heaven. We desire also, by the use of this simple form, to impress the more deeply on all our hearts our obligations to God, to our Saviour, and to one another ; and to draw the more closely the bonds of Christian fellowship among ourselves, as followers of the same Master and worshippers at the same altar. We therefore invite our friend A. B., who is here present with us, to unite in our usual form of Covenant. As you take your place for the first time at the table of the Lord, you profess your faith in God, the Father of all ; in Jesus of Nazareth, as the true Messiah, the Son of God, and the Saviour of men ; and in the Holy Scriptures, as the records of divine revelation, and the only sufficient rule of faith and duty. You avow your solemn purpose, by divine aid, to obey the commandments of God as given in the gospel of his Son, and to make Jesus Christ your guide and pattern ; looking to God's mercy, through him, for the forgiveness of your sins, and for the influences of his Spirit to sustain you in the Christian life. In the name of Jesus Christ, then, I welcome you as a member of his church ; and, in the name of your fellow-disciples here, I pledge to you our APPENDIX. 105 Christian sympathy and affection ; trusting that you will walk with us in the spirit of meekness and love, and will unite your prayers and efforts with ours for the growth of true religion among us, and for the advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom in the world. FUNDS. The Church Charity-Fund — the result of con- tributions at the communion-table, with a few special donations — amounts, at the present time, to four thousand dollars. The income is annually dis- tributed, in part for distinctively religious charities, in part for the benefit of the poor members of the church, — to whose sole and immediate use the con- tributions at the communion-season are now, and have for several years been, devoted. The trustees of this fund are the proprietors of the cemetery at the foot of Auburn Street; in which the lots still unsold are reckoned at their estimated value as a part of the fund. Joseph Haven, who died in 1829, left, by his will, a fund originally amounting to two thousand dollars, but reduced, by the unforeseen depreciation of certain stocks which formed a part of the legacy, to eleven hundred dollars ; the income to be an- 106 APPENDIX. nually distributed among the poor widows of the parish. Mrs. Ann Treadwell, widow of Robert 0. Treadwell, who died in 1844, bequeathed to the parish a thousand dollars ; the income to be an- nually expended in the purchase of wood for the poor members of the parish. Robert Rice, who died in 1853, left the minutes of an unexecuted will ; among which was a bequest of a thousand dollars to the South Parish, the income to be annually expended for charitable purposes within the parish, at the discretion of the minister. His benevolent design was promptly carried into effect by his heirs. The invested funds of the Sunday School amount to fifteen hundred dollars, derived from legacies, of five hundred dollars each, from Thomas Sheafe (1830), Horace A. Haven (1843), and Samuel Sheafe (1857). CHURCH PLATE. The plate in use by the church until 1828 con- sisted of six ancient silver cups, of various work- manship, without date, or name of donor ; the rest of the communion-service being of cheaper material. APPENDIX. 107 The rich and costly service of pure silver now in use, consisting of three flagons, eight cups, and two plates, — massive, highly wrought, and beautifully embossed, — was the gift of the late Joseph Haven. A baptismal basin of hammered silver was pro- cured, in 1740, from the proceeds of a bequest by George Walker, of whom nothing else is known. This, in its original form, was used until a quite recent period, when, with additional silver from the old cups, it was recast in a style corresponding to that of the communion-plate ; the name of the donor, with the date of his bequest, being engraved on the later, as it was rudely cut in the earlier, form of the vessel. This, for public use, is now superseded by a permanent font of white marble in the chancel of the church, — the gift of Mr. William Sheafe. HOUSES OF* WORSHIP. The meeting-house built in 1731 is still standing. After the dissolution of the short-lived Society formed from the South Parish, it remained vacant for several years. It subsequently became the pro- perty of a member of the Free- Will Baptist Church ; and was occupied, at several different periods, as a 108 APPENDIX. place of worship, by the Society of that denomina- tion, which has recently erected the church on Pearl Street. In the intervals of this occupancy, it has been, for a considerable portion of the time, kept open for religious worship, sometimes by series of Sunday afternoon or evening services, arranged by the clergy- men of the city ; sometimes by regular services, con- ducted by the city missionary, under whose auspices a prosperous Sunday school now holds its sessions there. Several years ago, a floor was laid between the two tiers of windows. The second story now contains an audience-room, with a handsome pulpit, slips arranged in the modern style, singing gallery, &c, together with a small vestry ; while the lower story is divided into a ward-room and two school- rooms. The church now occupied by the South Parish was dedicated on the 8th of February, 1826. It is built of Rockport granite, with a heavy square bell turret of the same material. It was originally ninety-two feet in length by sixty-six in width, with an open portico projecting seventeen feet, and supported by four granite columns. It contained one hundred and four pews on the lower floor ; and eight, together with the orchestra, in the gallery. The late Samuel Sheafe bequeathed to the parish three thousand dollars, of which five hundred were APPENDIX. 109 for the Sunday school, and fifteen hundred for the purchase of a new organ. It was found impossible, without extensive alterations, to make room in the original organ-loft for such an instrument as it seemed desirable to procure. This difficulty led to the enlargement and remodelling of the church in the summer and autumn of 1858. In the prose- cution of this enterprise, the rear wall was removed, and an addition of seventeen feet made to the length of the building. The organ — an instrument of great power and richness of tone, manufactured by the Messrs. Hook, in procuring which Mr. Wil- liam Sheafe, as executor and residuary legatee, more than doubled the sum destined to that purpose by his uncle — stands on a platform raised three feet above the body of the church, against the rear wall. The choir have seats in front of the organ, separated, by a heavy black walnut railing, from the crescent-shaped platform, of which the pulpit occupies the centre; with the communion-table on the eastern, and the baptismal font on the western, side. The pulpit is of black walnut, with carved trusses on either side; and, in the front, a richly moulded panel, with a carved shield and foliage. The ceiling and walls were taken down, and re- newed ; the ceiling in panel- work, with ornamental 9 110 APPENDIX. mouldings ; the walls with fluted pilasters, and Co- rinthian capitals and entablature. Over the organ there is a massive scroll-work canopy, supported by fluted columns, with Corinthian capitals. The pews are of black walnut, and of an elegant design. There are one hundred and thirty-four pews on the main floor of the church, and twenty-two in what used to be the music gallery. An entrance has been made into the church from the rear, with a passage and anteroom on each side ; one for the use of the minister, the other for that of the choir. Over the doors leading to the anterooms are raised tablets, with appropriate inscriptions. The entire cost of these improvements, including the organ, was from fifteen to sixteen thousand dollars. To- ward this sum, Mr. William Sheafe, over and above the surplus paid by him beyond the legacy for the organ, subscribed one thousand dollars ; and assumed, besides, a large additional pecuniary re- sponsibility, nominally covered by pews conveyed to him by the parish, but for which his returns must be slow and doubtful. His claims upon the grati- tude of the parish are not a little enhanced by the fact, that his unsolicited and generous overtures were made while he was meditating a permanent removal from Portsmouth, and fulfilled on his part after he had become a citizen of Boston. APPENDIX. Ill CHAPELS. In 1818, a small wooden building (which had been erected as a temporary banking-house for the New-Hampshire Union Bank, after the destruction of the previous bank-building in the great fire of 1813) was purchased by the South Parish, removed to a site on "Wentworth Street given to the parish by Joseph Haven, and arranged for use as a chapel and Sunday-school-room. This was sold, in 1828, to the Pleasant-street Congregational Society ; was removed to a site on Livermore Street, in the rear of their church ; and, on the dissolution of that Society, was occupied for several years as a school- room. It has since been converted into a dwelling- house. In 1828, members of the South Parish purchased the meeting-house on Pitt (now Court) Street, originally placed there by the Independent Con- gregational Society, afterward occupied by the Calvinistic Baptist Society, and vacated by them on the erection of their church on Middle Street. This building was occupied as a Sunday-school and lecture room, from the autumn of 1828 till Febru- ary, 1857, when it was removed to make room for a more commodious edifice. 112 APPENDIX. The corner-stone of our present chapel was laid on the 25th of May, 1857 ; and the building was consecrated by appropriate religious services on the evening of Nov. 13, 1857. It is seventy-five feet by thirty -four, with a lateral extension of the vestibule. Over the vestibule are two rooms, so connected as to be easily thrown into one, and. together measuring seventeen feet by thirty-seven ; the smaller of which is appropriated to the parish aid Sunday-school libraries, and the larger designed for meetings of the Sunday-school teachers, Bible classes, and other similar uses. The main room of the building is fifty-eight feet by thirty-three, and twenty-two feet in height. It contains accommoda- tions for thirty-eight separate classes, and ample room to seat four hundred children with their teach- ers. The organ is placed in a recess behind the desk. The entire cost of this building and its fur- niture (not including that of the land on which the previous building stood) was about eight thousand dollars, of which the sum of fifteen hundred dollars was furnished by the parish in its corporate capa- city, the residue by the voluntary subscriptions of individual parishioners.