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 Eaton, Anna R., 1823- 
 A memorial of Rev. Horace 
 Eaton, D. D. 
 
TRIUMPH IN CHRIST. 
 
 (2 Cor. 2 : 14.) X^^^ ^^ ^'^^'' 
 
 [* DEC 2 8 1911 
 
 A MEMORIAL 
 
 ^^ 
 
 Rev. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 BY 
 
 ANNA R. EATON. 
 
 STJirti lEliitiotu 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 PUBLISHED BY C. B. BOTSFORD, 
 
 25 Hawley St. 
 
 Bold also at the Offices of thk xVmekican Tract 
 
 Society: 150 Nassau St., N.Y. ; 93 State 
 
 St., Rochester, N.Y. ; 153 Wabash 
 
 Ave., Chicago, III. 
 
 1892. 
 
ELECTROTYTEn BY J. S. CUSHING & Co., BOSTON. 
 
 Pbesswork by Berwick & Smith, Boston. 
 
In my husband's last prayer at the family altar, oifered 
 seven days before his death, while sitting in his chair, — 
 in great feebleness of body, but with a pleading fervency 
 of spirit, — he gave utterance to these supplications: — 
 
 "Regard in tender compassion my kindred; may their 
 hearts and their influence be wholly the Lord's ! Richly 
 bless all the dear people to whom I have so imperfectly 
 ministered; may no one of them neglect or refuse the Great 
 Salvation ! " 
 
 In the hope that, by bringing some of his words to their 
 
 remembrance, these petitions may be answered, I have 
 
 compiled these pages. 
 
 ANNA R. EATON. 
 Palmyka, N.Y. 
 
COISTTEIN^TS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 1810-1824. 
 
 FACE. 
 ANCESTRY. — BIRTHPLACE. — THE BOY. — HIS MOTHER 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I824-I833. 
 
 A LONG JOURNEY. ST. ALBANS, VT. — HIS CONVERSION. — DECIDES 
 
 TO STUDY FOR THE MINISTRY ' 13 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 I833-I839. 
 
 PHILLIPS ACADEMY, ANDOVER, MASS. — DARTMOUTH COLLEGE . , 22 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 1839-1849. 
 
 UNION THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, NEW YORK. — MINISTRY AT THE 
 SIXTH-STREET CHURCH, NEW YORK. — MARRIAGE. — LAST ILL- 
 NESS OF HIS MOTHER 48 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 First Ten Years in Palmyra. 
 1849-1859. 
 
 SETTLEMENT. — FIRST DEATH IN HIS FAMILY. — REVIVALS. — 
 
 INTEREST IN MISSIONS 61 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Second Decade in Palmyra. 
 1859-1869. 
 
 THE WAR. — DAYS OF AFFLICTION. — LIFE, A SCHOOL. — LITERARY 
 
 LABORS. — LECTURE ON TREES. — ARTICLES FOR THE PRESS . . 91 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Last Ten Years of the Pastorate at Palmyra. 
 
 TWENTY-FIFTH AXXIVERSARY OF SETTLEMENT IN PALMYRA. — 
 TRAVELS IN THE EAST. — LECTURE, INFLUENCE OF MOHAM- 
 MEDANISM UPON EDUCATION. — LETTERS 126 
 
 CHAPTER Till. 
 
 PASTORAL LABORS.— now HE MADE SERMONS. — HIS STUDY. — USE 
 OF ANALOGIES. — MUSINGS ON THE RAILROAD. — IMPROVEMENT 
 OF CURRENT EVENTS AND PROVIDENCES. — WHEAT-HARVEST. — 
 INTRODUCTION OF GAS. — THE EIGHTH COMMANDMENT. — THE 
 ORGAN. — NEW year's SERMON, THE CLOCK. — FRAME-AVORK OF 
 EXTEMPORE SERMON. — FACETIOUSNESS. — PREACHING TO CHIL- 
 DREN. — PRAYE«FULNESS. — "TRIUMPH IN CHRIST" .... 191 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 JOURNEY TO ENGLAND AND IRELAND. — "FIRST NIGHT AT SEA." — 
 RESIGNATION. — CLOSING SERMON AS PASTOR. — THOUGHTS FOR 
 THE AGED. — CHARGE TO THE PEOPLE AT ORDINATION AND 
 INSTALLATION OF HIS SUCCESSOR. — LAST FOUR YEARS AND A 
 HALF OF LIFE. — LABORS AT MARION, N.Y. — LIGHT AT EVEN- 
 ING TIME. — LETTERS 232 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 DEATH. — BURIAL. — FUNERAL SERMON. — ADDRESSES 2G2 
 
 N 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MEMORIAL SERVICE AT MARION. — MEMORIAL SERVICE IX THE 
 
 SABBATH-SCHOOL AT PALMYRA 281 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS. — PRESS NOTICES. — RESOLUTIONS. — 
 MURAL TABLET. ANNIVERSARY ELEGY, "BESIDE HIS GRAVE," 
 
 OCT. 24, 1884 291 
 
CHAPTER L 
 1810-1824. 
 
 ANCESTRY. — BIRTHPLACE. — THE BOY. — HIS MOTHER. 
 
 The subject of this sketch left no autobiography; but from his fire- 
 side conversations, his letters, journals, and an occasional sermon to 
 the young people of his parish, delivered after some visit to his native 
 State, we have gleaned much concerning his early life. 
 
 Horace Eaton was born on the 7th of October, 1810, in Sutton, Merri- 
 mack County, N.H. His parents were John and Mary Kimball Eaton. 
 
 We find in one of his papers the following reference to his ancestry 
 and birthplace : — 
 
 As I learned from my mother, it is probable that the 
 Eatons came from England to Haverhill, Mass. My great- 
 great-grandfather was attacked by the Indians on his own 
 farm in Haverhill, March 15, 1697. His wife escaped to a 
 swamp, where she took cold, and soon died, leaving an 
 infant son, one week old, named James. This James Eaton 
 was my great-grandfather.^ 
 
 My grandfather, Nathaniel Eaton, served from the begin- 
 ning to the end of the Revolutionary War. He was at 
 the head of a company at the battle of Bunker Hill, but did 
 
 1 Dr. Eaton was accustomed to recall the fact that his ancestors shared 
 the perils generally known to the public as exclusively borne by the Dustan 
 family. He rehearsed the account substantially as follows :" The Eaton 
 homestead joined that of Mr. Tliomas Dustan. The Indians made n simul- 
 taneous raid upon both families. They captured Mrs. Dustan and her infant 
 child, born on the same day as was James Eaton, my great-grandfather. 
 They daslied out the brains of Mrs. Dustan's babe upon an apple-tree grow- 
 ing on our farm. On their way to Canada tliey stopped at night on an 
 island in Concord, N.H. Here Mrs. Dustan killed ten of tlie Indians. But 
 one escaped. She bore their scalps back to Haverhill, and was generously 
 rewarded by the Legislature of Massachusetts. 
 
 " "When the Indians first assaulted his family, Mr. Dustan was in the field. 
 He seized his gun, mounted his horse, and, thinking it impossible to rescue 
 but one child, determined to save the one he loved best. But the father's 
 
55 REV, HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 not receive a commission until General Washington reached 
 Boston. One day mj grandfather's captain became secretly 
 alarmed lest a bloody engagement was about to take place. 
 He represented himself as very anxious in regard to his saw- 
 mill at liome, and desired the commander-in-chief to give him 
 leave of absence for a few days. General Washington, no 
 doubt acting on the principle of an ancient warrior, — 
 " Whosoever is fearful and afraid, let him return, and depart 
 early from Mount Gilead," — gave him the desired furlough. 
 As he did so, my grandfather overheard Washington's remark, 
 '■'- Captain S., I have a great deal more to attend to at my home 
 than you" The commission of the cowardly officer was 
 forthwith handed over to my grandfather. 
 
 Some ninety miles from Boston, up the valley of the 
 Merrimack, you come to. a mountain, the summit of which 
 commands a view of nearly the entire State, — Kearsarye, 
 from which the ironclad steamer, victorious over the 
 "Alabama," was named. Over eleven hundred feet above 
 the level of the sea, on the southerly spur of this moun- 
 tain, is an old square mansion, built by my forefathers 
 more than a hundred years ago. There six generations of 
 my kindred have lived and died. 
 
 On tlie morning of his seventy-third birthday, just two weeks before 
 his death, he said : — 
 
 heart forbade a choice. By repeated shots lie kept the foe at bay until 
 they all reached the garrison." 
 
 " And from those dear ones make thy choice : 
 The group he wildly eyed, 
 When ' Father ! ' burst from every side, 
 
 And ' Child ! ' his heart replied. 
 
 ****** 
 
 "And firmer still he drew his breath, 
 
 And sterner flashed his eye, 
 
 As fast he hurled the leaden death. 
 
 Still shouting, 'Chihhvn, fly!' 
 
 " In vain the foe, those fiends unchained, 
 Like famished tigers chafe : 
 The sheltered roof is neared, is gained. 
 All, all the dear ones safe ! " 
 
THE BOY. 6 
 
 When I came into this world, seventy-three years ago 
 to-day, I do not suppose I was wliolly a welcome visitor. 
 Some of the relatives thought Molly's family quite large 
 enough before I, the twelfth, was ushered into it. But my 
 widowed mother clung to me, her youngest child, with fond 
 but wise devotion. 
 
 From his journal : — 
 
 Ausfust, 1875. I have been back to look into the faces 
 of my fast friends, the hills and rocks of New Hampshire. 
 I was kindly entertained by a younger generation of my 
 kindred at tlie ancestral homestead, which they have en- 
 larged and beautified. The song of the pines, the murmur 
 of the mountain brooks, the ready response of the trout, 
 seemed to me a hearty welcome after fifty 3'ears' absence. 
 The whippoorwill, the bobolink, and the solitary thrush, — 
 that bird of the sweet, shrill whistle, never seen, but heard 
 at sunset in the deepest shades of the wood, — came back 
 to me with all their early inspiration. I have slept in the 
 room where I was born — in the room where I was taught 
 the Scriptures — in the room where my mother daily in 
 prayer commended me to God. I have picked blackberries 
 where stood the house to which my mother used to take 
 me to the weekly female prayer-meeting which she estab- 
 lished and sustained. I have been up and down the hills 
 over which, from five to seven years of age, I walked three 
 miles to the meeting-house to recite my Sabbath-school 
 lesson, — not one "Golden Text," but many. My mother 
 thought all the verses goldeii. The kind man, the teacher, 
 gave me a blue ticket for ever}' ten verses recited ; and 
 when I had gained ten blue tickets, he exchanged them for 
 a red one. 
 
 In a letter "written to his family in August, 1881, he thus alludes to 
 his first visit to the sanctuary : — 
 
 I have a clear recollection of the Sabbath day on this same 
 spot at least sixty-seven years ago. Sister R. and Aunt L. 
 had been at much pains to fit me out with boy's clothes. 
 Some gifts kept in my purse furnished the means for a new 
 cap. And then, as though they had some premonition of 
 
4 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 my ministerial life, I was made to appear in the family pew 
 under the pulpit. I think I have always been a good hearer. 
 I began then. It was at the "South meeting-house." The 
 pews were in the sheep-pen form, the seats of the slam-bang 
 order, Rev. W. T. the preacher. The text, Ps. 55 : 6-8, " Oh 
 that I had wings like a dove," etc., made a prodigious impres- 
 sion on my young imagination. I could repeat the text to 
 my grandmother, and some of the sermon. . . . 
 
 When seven years of age, he and his mother removed to the home of 
 his oldest brother in "Warner, X.II., five miles from his birthplace. 
 Here, when not attending school, he worked on the farm and at his 
 brother's woollen mill. An aged friend distinctly remembers going into 
 the mill, and pitying him as he tui-ned the crank of the roller on which 
 the cloth was wound. He was standing upon a box that he might 
 reach the handle. Outside, the day was sultry and oppressive : within, 
 a fire, which was needed, made the heat almost intolerable. But the 
 little fellow toiled on diligently without complaint. 
 
 He now regularly attended church and the day and Sabbath school. 
 These were nearer of access than before, — less than two miles away. 
 Rev. John Woods, D.D., afterward of Newport, N.H., was the minister. 
 Late in life he recalled many of the texts and thoughts of this able and 
 devoted pastor of his childhood. 
 
 In an address upon "The Dogs of Damascus," he thus reverts to one 
 of the pleasures and pangs of his childhood : — 
 
 As my imagination returns to life's young morning in my 
 mountain home, the first living form that bounds down the 
 road to meet me is " Rover." Tie and I were the only youth- 
 ful hearts left in the family. Though of a mottled black and 
 white, he was " altogether comely." His eyes brimmed with 
 wit and good-nature. His inward life, beauty, affection, were 
 expressed in his form, features, and motions. Our lives inter- 
 penetrated each other. Our fun and fears mingled. We 
 scarcely knew any individual life. 
 
 lint a blight of ill-fame came down like night upon my 
 innocent friend. Under the villanous cry, "Sheep, sheep!" 
 without a hearing or a defence, my boon-companion was cut 
 off, and thrown lifeless at my door. Here, as in the case of 
 David and Jonathan, the Philistine separated chief friends. 
 He was four years of age, and I seven. Never was there a 
 
THE BOY. 5 
 
 sincerer mourner. Where the willows sent down their pen- 
 dent, weeping- branches, alone, under tlie pale crescent and 
 the baleful star, I buried my friend, darkling; in my very 
 tears imprecating just retribution on the murderer. 
 
 Forty years passed away, and neither distance nor time had 
 effaced my early love and bereavement. And I regret to 
 admit that a lingering umbrage shaded my mind all these 
 years. But since my residence with you, I made a visit to 
 the spot of my birth. As I mused among the nettles and 
 ruins, where once were pleasant gardens and cheerful homes, 
 at a sharp turn in the road, now nearly grown up with alders, 
 I suddenly came squarely in the face of the man whom forty 
 years before I had denounced over the grave of my dog. 
 
 At once the wound was opened, and, quick as the light- 
 ning's flash, the old indignation came to my face, and almost 
 to my fist. But when I saw his careworn cheek, his pinched 
 features, his triangular eyes; when I saw his harness tied 
 up with a fish-line, and, for want of buttons, his coat held 
 together by a thorn, his horse hobbling, liis wheels wabbling, 
 as he made his way over the stones, — my anger was turned 
 into pity, and I repented that I had not forgiven more, and 
 execrated less. 
 
 Ill his ninth summer, when returning from a neighbor's, where his 
 motlier had sent him after fire (this was before the days of lucifer 
 matches), he was prostrated to the ground by lightning. The bolt 
 spent its force some five rods from the spot where he stood, cleaving in 
 twain a large rock, and killing several sheep. He received no injury. 
 Quick as thought, on rising to his feet, one of his Bible verses flashed 
 upon his mind with terrible vividness, — "If the righteous scarcely be 
 saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear." 
 
 Of his life at ten years of age, he thus writes when seventy : — 
 
 My tenth winter was spent in the bleak north, under 
 the shadow of Kearsarge. With buskins on my feet, linsey- 
 woolsey around my body, a red cap, culminating in a tassel, 
 upon my head, I defied the storms. Save a tingle in an ear 
 or toe, the mercury at 20° or 30° below zero touched, only 
 to quicken my blood. Fifteen head of cattle and a cor- 
 responding number of sheep, geese, and hens, were my pas- 
 toral charge. Those were lively times at the winter school 
 
6 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D 
 
 of two months on the ledge. I snow-balled, slid down hill, 
 wrestled, got whipped by larger boys, grappled with Webster's 
 Spelling-book, jNIorse's Geography, and Adams' Arithmetic, 
 was swamped in Mnrraj^'s Grammar, and read with great de- 
 light the prose and poetry of the English Reader. I deemed 
 it a stranf^e vicissitnde that one so innocent shonld share so 
 much of the ferule. I was unfortunate: iSly consolation 
 was peculiar. Our eldest brother, Frederic, was the teacher ; 
 and it was safe, if not heroic, to make me an example. In 
 distributing presents at the close, there was a fitness that 
 the ferule fell to me. jNIy tenth was a memorable winter. 
 I mastered the sums in Double Position and most of the 
 " Miscellaneous Questions." I grew tough and strong in 
 the strife. 
 
 When twelve years of age, his mother sent him to Xorth Sutton, about 
 five miles from home, to live Avith Robert Lane, M.D., the doctor "for 
 all the country round." Here he began to look out upon the -world, his 
 circle of ideas broadened. He remained in this place two years. 
 
 From his journal : — 
 
 Aug. 20, 1875. Came at length through the alder-groves 
 to the sight of the hills on Dr. Lane's old farm, where 
 I used to labor. Now I am at the gate. I enter at the 
 north door. I am welcomed to the parlor. ^Irs. Dr. Smiley, 
 the cultured and excellent daughter of Dr. Lane, greets me. 
 Her husband accompanied me over the premises. The 
 stables were lined with oak plank that I drew from the mill 
 far beyond Squire Harvey's. In this barn I took care of the 
 doctor's horses. Saw the channel of a ditch I dug, visited 
 the orchard I set out, roamed upon the hill I cleared, 
 where I fought fire, and hoed in rye. Li the liouse I found 
 the little bedroom which was finished off for me. I painted 
 the floor. Here I daily read the Bible, and prayed with 
 self-rigliteous gratulation ; fancied myself much better than 
 some of the godless and profane men with whom I worked. 
 Went into the doctor's room, where I made the fires, and 
 waited while he consulted his books. 
 
 In other manuscripts we find the following allusions to his childhood 
 and to his mother : — 
 
THE BOY. 7 
 
 I began life amid liigli hills, like the hill of Bashan. I 
 was rocked in a mountain cradle in the Granite Slate, in its 
 hardest, roughest town. 
 
 By birth and education I was from the wild Gilead region, 
 east of the river, the home of the Tishbite, where Amos was 
 a gatherer of sycamore fruit. Snow, snow, from November 
 to May — late springs, short summers, lean harvests. The 
 men of Western New York know little of the hard work, 
 coarse fare, severe frugality, of this part of the Alpine State. 
 When stern necessities were met, little was left for the 
 elegancies and luxuries of life. Here my humble experi- 
 ence strikes the common chord of poverty, — not, indeed, 
 that chill penury that freezes "the genial current of the 
 soul," — not the indigence that crowds the poor into tene- 
 ments of filth and vice, — not the poverty that dulls the 
 spirit, and makes tramps, but that which stimulates courage 
 to "take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, 
 end them," — not the poverty which starves the intellect, 
 shuts the schoolhouse, the church, the college, but rather 
 crowds them all with earnest, inquiring minds. We were 
 indeed poor ; but we were not serfs. There is a poverty that 
 holds back from ruin, that saves. The Phoenix wings of 
 genius are as likely to melt before the sun of fortune as they 
 are to be paralyzed by the frosts of adversity. 
 
 From a lecture on " The Tuition of Roclis " : — 
 
 It is not unlikely that some son of New Hampshire, after 
 a long absence in the fertile West, on returning to the spot 
 of his birth, will feel that the rocks have grown larger, the 
 •soil more unrelenting, the mountains more lofty and cragged, 
 than fifty years agone. He will almost pity his own feet 
 and hands, that once bled as they ran and wrought on such 
 acres. He pities a lung line of hardy ancestors, who cleared, 
 walled, ploughed, and reaped these fields. The renewed 
 sight of the old home is in danger of awakening sickness 
 rather than joy of heart. But careful reflection upon the 
 discipline of these austere beginnings may discover compen- 
 sations that go far toward balancing the hardships. If the 
 bowlders were big and barren, the boys were the bolder for 
 
8 JIEV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 the climbing. If the glebe was stubborn, it called out a stub- 
 born energy to conquer it. If the share became dull as it 
 crashed through the stony furrow, the ingenuity of the 
 ploughboy Avaxed keen and bright. Obstacles overcome in 
 youth gave courage for encounters in manhood. If the 
 storm raged, the clieeks grew red on the way to school, the 
 mind more vigorous for a successful encounter with books. 
 The sharpest frost brings down the acorns. If the Sabbath 
 journey was long, if the feet were bare, weary, sore, when 
 arrived at the house of God, the singing of Watts' Hymns 
 was all the sweeter, the truth all the more impressive, every 
 word like "a nail driven in a sure place." If in climbing 
 the mountains a ladder was needed, the steeper the ascent, 
 the swifter the streams, and, the swifter the streams, the 
 more spindles they will drive. The mills and manufactures 
 on the working, singing rivers and rivulets of New Hamp- 
 shire, are no little recompense for the hardback in her 
 pastures and the hackmatack on her highlands. 
 
 And then acres are not always to be estimated by the 
 bushels of grain garnered. Mental excitement, ideas of 
 beauty and sublimity, are sometimes worth more than wheat. 
 The highest feats of faith have been acliieved on the bald 
 mountain-tops. Who shall say that Hermon, towering in 
 grandeur over the temples of God, did not contribute as 
 much to the solid prosperity of Israel as the valley of the 
 Jordan, or the plain of Esdraelon? Who shall say that 
 the rocks and hills of Palestine were not more valuable 
 to the world than the fertile plains of Assyria? 
 
 " What glowiiij^ thoughts, what glowing themes. 
 To mountain-tops he-long! 
 The law from Sinai's summit came; 
 From Sion, sacred song. 
 
 " Anil Genius on Parnassian heights 
 Mis hanncr first unfurled, 
 And from tlie sevcn-hiliod city waved 
 The sword that swayed the world. 
 
 " Then let us raise the song of praise ; 
 To us the heights were given : 
 Our granite hills are altars still 
 To lift our hopes to heaven." 
 
THE BOY. 9 
 
 For the rugged soil there is an offset in the tuition of 
 rocks. These severe disciplinarians gear the young life to 
 an industry, economy, perseverance, and invention that will 
 live well on what others waste. 
 
 Our rock-ribbed hills furnish the solid foundations for the 
 temples and capitols of other States, and the pillars and 
 architraves cut and polished after the similitude of Athenian 
 grace. For hard hands we have a reward in the free air, 
 free schools, free churches, free consciences, that nourished 
 our early life. • . . 
 
 Sept. 22, 1878, he preached a sermon on " The Early Memories awakened 
 by Ancient Localities " : — 
 
 The well of Bethlehem, which was by the gate, suggested 
 to the shepherd and the warrior king not only his native 
 region, bat his early, humble home. Tins was the polar star 
 to which the needle of his soul ever settled. His home 
 might have been in ruins, he would have clung to it still. 
 The sight of ruins calls up the voice of years. I have mused 
 amid the deserted temples, where silence and the owl have 
 for ages kept their solitary reign. Within the crumbling 
 walls of the Roman Coliseum, imagination still hears the 
 ravings of the wild beasts and the groans of the dying 
 gladiator. Grooves worn by wheels in the pavement at 
 Pompeii bring back the din of lier "jumping chariots." 
 But such echoes of the ancient world are distant and 
 shadowy, like the slender voices of the phonograph. While 
 absent this summer, wandering on a time through an obscure 
 and neglected field, I came to a forsaken cellar. There were 
 " sermons in those stones." They were carefully laid by my 
 own father's hands. Eighty-seven years ago, on this foun- 
 dation, he erected the humble dwelling in which my parents 
 began their married life. Here six of my older brothers and 
 sisters were born. Here occurred the first death in the 
 family. How much of history is unwritten ! What labors, 
 joys, sorrows, sympathies, charities, could be evoked from 
 this old cellar ! Here was a cheerful hearthstone. Here the 
 Bible, the Hymn-book, the Catechism, and prayer had their 
 place. On the grassy lawn the children used to sport in 
 
10 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 childlike innocence. Near by, a rosebush showed "where 
 once the garden smiled." In this little paradise among the 
 rocks mj mother appeared in her happiest attitude, seeking 
 both to delight the senses of her children, and to find analo- 
 gies with whicli to point a moral. 
 
 It was a tender service when, three years ago, five of our 
 family were permitted to stand around this old cellar, and 
 mark where our mother used to plant the coarse and honest 
 sunflower, the erect and soldier-like hollyhock, the flaring 
 poppy, the curt pink, and the gorgeous peony. But now, 
 save the rose and the lilac, the nettle, the mullein, the 
 elecampane, have usurped this sacred soil. Farewell to this 
 old and lonely cellar ! The moon will shed its cold rays 
 upon it. The northern tempests will sweep over it, and fill 
 it with the drifting snow. But the hearts once cherished 
 there are gone, "all gone from their mountain home." . . . 
 
 The returning pilgrim will soon be away to the site of the 
 old schoolliouse. Sixty or seventy years ago a New Hamp- 
 shire schoolhouse among the mountains had little of modern 
 helps or attractions, — no cabinet, no library, map, or stove. 
 The floor was rough, the iireplace, the teachers, rough. All 
 our lessons were enforced by a generous anointing of the 
 "oil of birch." 
 
 " () ye who teach the ingenuous youth of nations, 
 I pray j^ou flog them upon all occasions : 
 It mends tlieir morals." 
 
 The pressure to make the most of three months drove us 
 as far into " Cube Root " and " Rule of Three " as might the 
 more leisurely study of a whole year. When four years 
 old, I was entered as freshman at the people's college — the 
 district schoolhouse — by m}^ oldest sister. Returning to 
 the old ledge, for that schoolhouse was "founded upon a 
 rock," I could mark as early friends every crevice and inden- 
 tation, and find also in my own being lines and impressions 
 of truth here engraved. " Marm Evans," my first instructor, 
 was not there ; but I was permitted to meet one old teacher, 
 " Master Page." He remembered me : I remembered him. 
 Of all my teachers, he never whipped me. ... On Sab- 
 
THE BOY. 11 
 
 bath morning I craved it as a means of grace to make 
 my way alone and on foot to the ancient sanctuary. At 
 every turn of the road troops of sweet memories sprang up 
 to greet me. I piissed in at the worn threshold, and took 
 my seat in the old family pew. But I found myself amid a 
 new generation. The dear pastor had long since ceased 
 from his prophesyings. The old choir had concluded their 
 songs. In vain I looked for my faithful and ingenious 
 teacher in the Sabbath school. Gone were the deacons, the 
 venerable men who bore the vessels of the Lord, — gone the 
 old members, save here and there one, " like two or three 
 olives in the outmost branch, after the ingathering." But 
 the church still lives. Her gates were filled with devout 
 believers. It was delightful to hear the old hymn, " I love 
 thy kingdom, Lord." I was impressed with the thought, 
 how much I owed to the Sabbaths, sermons, songs, and sup- 
 plications of this time-honored place of worship. Here I 
 recited the Assembly's Shorter Catechism to the pastor, and 
 much of the New Testament to my Sabbath-school teacher. 
 From this spot, principles, convictions, purposes, followed me 
 that have guided me in doubt, held me back in temptation, 
 cheered me in trials. My mother was never more happy 
 than when she could see her children thus "planted in the 
 house of the Lord." How eagerly she listened to a good 
 sermon ! She treasured it in her heart, taught it from her 
 lips and life. I bless God for 7n^ mother and the old Congre- 
 gational Church of Warner., N.H. 
 
 In various letters he thus speaks of his mother : — 
 
 My mother was a woman of great strength of mind, of 
 wonderful equanimity and self-control, of few words, but 
 those fitly chosen. She was " mighty in the Scriptures." In 
 the painful and protracted sickness which preceded her 
 death, when unable to read, she solaced herself by repeat- 
 ing chapter after chapter, without prompting or mistake. 
 
 I cannot remember the time when she did not pray daily 
 with us children. 
 
 When I think of my mother, it is the mother that used to 
 weave in the north chamber, that used to pray in the bed- 
 
12 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 room, and have a female prayer-meeting on Thursday after- 
 noon. 
 
 That old home at Brother F.'s, on "Hard Scrabble," 
 bears witness to mother's prayers : so does the old bed-room 
 at Grandfather K.'s. As I slept with her in my infancy, 
 I remember her kneeling by my bed, and, with her hand 
 upon my head, commending me to God. Brother J. says, 
 that on awaking in the night he would hear her praying in 
 a low voice. It was her uniform practice to rise from her 
 bed, and, kneeling by it, to have a season of jjrayer in the 
 deep silence of night. 
 
 My mother was a "mother in Israel." When I was an 
 infant, she was left a widoAv, utterly penniless, with eleven 
 children, the oldest eighteen. I am astonished as I reflect 
 upon the heart so calm, brave, cheerful, believing, Avith which 
 she met the trial. I rarely remember a tear, and even then 
 it was shed in gratitude. For her brood she found homes, 
 where they were served to coarse food, coarse clothing, and 
 plenty of hard work. With one hand she held on to her seven 
 sons and four daughters, and with the other she grasped the 
 horns of the altar. 
 
 Maternal faith was not unrewarded. She lived to see all lier children, 
 save one, useful members of society and of the Christian churcli. Her 
 prayers ever followed that other child, who early removed South with the 
 family that adopted him. In the vicissitudes of the late war all trace of 
 him was lost. The mother believed she should meet him also in heaven. 
 
 When Dr. Eaton, the youngest child, was fifty-three years of age, 
 eleven of the brothers and sisters were living. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 1824-1833. 
 
 A LONG JOURNEY, — ST. ALBANS, VT. — HIS CONVEHSTON. — 
 DECIDES TO STUDY FOR THE MINISTRY. 
 
 Till I was fourteen, I had it as rough, and worked as hard, 
 as any boy I ever knew. At that time my mother planned 
 for me an exodus. 
 
 After the lapse of fifty years, he thus speaks of the new departure : — 
 Aug. 20, 1875. Rose early this morning, and was off in 
 good season for North Sutton. Endeavored to recall the 
 impressions of that eventful hour when I left the spot of 
 my birth for St. Albans, to learn the trade of watchmaker 
 and jeweler of Brother H. Could but notice how the trees 
 had overgrown the fields, and invaded the road. Fifty years 
 have not enlarged the boundar}^ of pasturage and arable land 
 in New Hampshire, but contracted it. I heard the drumming 
 of partridges where fifty years ago I heard the bleating of 
 sheep and the song of the ploughman. It was a bold push in 
 those days for a poor boy, fourteen years old, to leave his 
 home, mother, and friends for a journey on foot of one hun- 
 dred and sixty miles. I did not fear any danger, or the toil 
 of the way, but had a certain solemn foreboding of an un- 
 seen destiny. I knew not what might betide me. It was 
 like looking out of a window in a dark night. Mother had 
 put up in a bag food enough to last me three days. She had 
 made me a vest and pants from the worn-out popularity of 
 some other boys, and, for a coat, had cut up her best fulled- 
 cloth shawl. These were my Sunday clothes. In them I 
 expected to make a good appearance before my Uncle J. at 
 Montpelier, and before Brother II. at the end of my journey. 
 I admired their texture and beauty vastly more than a suit 
 I afterwards purchased in Paris. I had a good thick pair of 
 
14 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 boots, which I forbore to put on, lest I shoukl wear them out. 
 All my effects were packed into a knapsack, together Avith a 
 Bible given nie by Dr. Lane. The burden was some sixteen 
 pounds. In my wallet were ten dollars, which 1 had saved 
 from my wages. 
 
 A week before, I had found in the road a pine cane, slim, 
 straight, and painted blue. I had no "faithful dog to bear 
 mo company'" i but this cane was no little comfort. Barefoot, 
 clad in my every-day clothes, this pack on my back, I started 
 off early one morning in September. Mother commended me 
 to God in the "west room," and attended me down to the 
 willow-tree. There she blessed me, and gave me the j^arting 
 kiss. Soon the house disa})peared from view. Like Jacob 
 when he fled from his brother, I was utterly alone. Every 
 stream, tree, rock, was like a dear friend, and I bade them 
 farewell with a tearful sympathy. I passed the saw-mill, 
 the house of M. R. I did not call at L. G.'s ; though while 
 at Dr. L.'s I had spent many a pleasant hour there. The 
 groups of boj's and girls I did not care to see. But to the 
 next house, — that of J. M., whose wife was my father's 
 sister, — to that house my heart drew with childlike yearn- 
 ings. My dear aunt wept Avith sympathy over my solitary 
 undertaking. She left her cheese-tub, and walked with me 
 down to the spring. I went along the shore of Gile Pond, 
 where I had fished and skated and bathed. It looked placid 
 and kind upon me. Over New London Hill I sat down to 
 my dinner. My heart glowed with love for my precious 
 mother as I opened the sack's mouth and looked upon ray 
 favorite eatables. I hastened on toward Sunapee Pond, cross- 
 ing the bridge. Here a moment of home-sickness came over 
 me. I was feeling weak and unwell. To be sick among 
 strangers has ever seemed to me the most forbidding of 
 calamities. I climbed over mountains, and threaded val- 
 leys, till the sun Avent down ; then I called at a lowly 
 but pleasant and inviting house, where they consented to 
 allow me to remain for the night. 
 
 One evening ho put \ip at a small country tavern, and overheard sus- 
 picious whisperings concerning himself. " Posters were out," it was 
 
THE APPRENTICE. 15 
 
 said, for a " RUNAWAY BOY ! " " Perhaps this is he ! " Leaving his 
 blue cane and bundle in the corner of the hall, he paid liis bill and retired 
 to his chamber, but by no means to an untroubled repose. " A wounded 
 spirit who can bear?" Without observation, three o'clock the next 
 morning found him on his northward way. He was sure his parcel had 
 been examined, and he always believed that the Bible it contained was 
 the reason that further investigation into his case was suspended. 
 
 As he journeyed, he came to Hanover, N.H., arriving there in the day- 
 time, as the young men of Dartmouth College were taking exercise at 
 their various sports. For rest and refreshment he called at a shop or 
 store opposite the institution. Dr. A., the middle-aged man who kept it, 
 was very cordial and communicative. In answer to the boy's question 
 whether he would be allowed to go into the college buildings, he readily 
 directed him to the right door. He took a general survey of the lower 
 hall and some of the empty recitation-rooms. On returning, the kind 
 gentleman gave him some healthful food and drink, for which he would 
 not accei^t money, and with much good advice and a " God bless you ! " 
 sent him on. ^Vlien this same lad, ten years after, entered Dartmouth 
 College as a student, the trader recognized him at once, greeted him 
 warmly, and ever took much interest and some pride in his Dartmouth 
 
 boy. 
 
 Up through the sightly passes of the Green Mountains, Montpelier, Vt., 
 at length hove in sight. In that city lived an uncle whom he had never 
 Been. Footsore and weary he sat down by a shaded brook some distance 
 outside the town. Taking out his nuniature mirror, he was himself sur- 
 prised at the change which a thorough bath, his comb, his boots, and new 
 suit had wrought in him. After a restful Sabbath and a comparatively 
 short season of travel, he was welcomed at St. Albans, Much to his 
 chagrin, his brother at once procured for him better and more modern 
 clothing. The "age of homespun "was even then taking its flight from 
 New England. 
 
 He was soon busy and happy at work, adding to his duties in the shop 
 those of janitor of the church. 
 
 The " set time " for his conversion to God drew nigh. 
 
 The struggle between dependence on self and on Christ continued for 
 several weeks. He redoubled his prayers. He multiplied the chapters 
 he read in the Bible. He was most attentive to the services of the sanc- 
 tuary. He wondered that no peace, no rest, visited his soul. At length 
 a young friend of his own age came out a joyful Christian. Then he saw 
 his heart. It was full of enmity against God because his comrade, who 
 had not lived half so blameless or devout a life as himself, had been for- 
 given. He was overcome with horror and alarm at his own self-righteous- 
 ness and depravity. When the day's work was done, he entered the back 
 
16 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 shop, his "closet." His words were few, " Lord, I'm a lost sinner. If 
 thou satie me, I live ; if not, I perish, I can never, never save myself. I 
 cast myself upon the infinite mercij of Jesus Christ, the Saviour." A strange 
 quiet stole over his spirit. He rejoiced that God had so favored his com- 
 panion. He felt that God would be blameless were he himself unblessed. 
 He was so satisfied with God that he left himself in his hands without 
 concern or anxiety. 
 
 Kneeling by the bench, wearied in body and mind, he at length fell 
 asleep. The angels that rejoice when one sinner repenteth, ascending 
 from that lumbered room, " counted, as they wrote up the people, that 
 this man was born there." No wonder he called it his " Bethel," where 
 the Lord met him at the first. 
 
 His mental distress was gone; but he did not indulge a hope that he 
 was a Christian until the meeting of the next monthly concert, held 
 in those days on the first IMonday evening of the month. Then the 
 Redeemer seemed to him unspeakably precious, and he longed that all 
 whom he knew, that "earth's remotest nation, might learn IMessiah's 
 name." In his pocket was one silver dollar, earned " out of hours " by 
 collecting and selling the ashes of his own and neighboring shops. Joy- 
 fully he placed it " in the hat " as it was passed around near the close of 
 the service. From that hour, love for Christ's cause and a burning zeal 
 for its advancement took possession of his being. Doubts in regard to 
 his acceptance with Christ seem rarely to have annoyed him. Hence- 
 forth Paul's motto was his : " One thing I do." Even the early years of 
 his spiritual life were characterized by great earnestness and enthusiasm 
 in work for the ^Master. 
 
 He united with the Congregational Church in St. Albans the first 
 Sabbath in Juno, 1828. 
 
 In after-life he refers to the more direct agencies which led to his con- 
 version, — his brother, his Sabbath-school teacher, and his pastor. Of the 
 first he says : — 
 
 IT. was a dear, loving, pious brother. He lured and pra3'ed 
 me into the Idngdom. 
 
 Of his Sabbath-school teacher he writes, in 1878 : — 
 
 When T went to St. Albans I fell into the class taught bj 
 Joseph H. Brainerd, Esq. He took an interest in me. His 
 instructions directed my mind upward. He often spoke to 
 me during the week. He secured my name to the total- 
 abstinence pledge when fourteen. When I was seventeen, 
 I stood up with H. S., another boy of the same Sabbath- 
 school class, and gave in my personal experience prior to 
 
THE APPRENTICE. 17 
 
 joining the Congregational Church. And Mr. B. has fol- 
 lowed me with tender regard and special prayers ever since. 
 A few weeks ago I received a letter from him, telling me 
 that he was feeble. Last week came the news of his death 
 and the remarks of members of the Franklin County bar, 
 testifying to their very great respect for his memory. Says 
 one, " If asked what we remember of him, my answer is, 
 Character, not want of character, but character, positive, 
 clear, and well-defined, character founded on principle. He 
 believed there was a right and a wrong; that there was a 
 God; that there was such a thing as virtue, as sin; that 
 God had given him something, and required something of 
 him. He could not compromise with wrong, or practice the 
 arts and devices of the demagogue." 
 
 I could tell you now many of the books I read while con- 
 nected with that Sabbath-school class. The first was, " The 
 Christian Father's Present to his Children," by John Angell 
 James. I remember how my mind was stirred by John 
 Fosters "Decision of Character," Dick's "Christian Phi- 
 losopher," and the " Life of Rev. Thomas Scott." 
 
 In narrating the incidents of a visit to New England in September, 
 1861, he alludes to his valued pastor, Rev. Wortliington Smith, D.D., 
 afterwards president of Vermont University at Burlington : — 
 
 On the Sabbath I worshiped with the living: on Mon- 
 day morning I Avent to the congregation of the dead. Those 
 godly men I used to hear in the prayer-meeting had taken 
 their places here. There I could still mark the graves of 
 some young persons whose remains I attended as bearer 
 when I was myself young. How impressive was the funeral 
 where I first served as a bearer ! Resting with a majority of 
 his flock, I found the wise and instructive pastor to whom I 
 owe so much for time and eternity. As I leaned over his 
 headstone, memory brought back the first sermon I ever 
 heard him preach, and the sermon in which he drove home 
 the sharp arrows of the mighty upon my own conscience, 
 another on the greatness and sovereignty of God, and another 
 on the danger of a false hope, from the verse, " They have 
 
18 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 healed the hurt of the daughter of my people slightly, saying, 
 Peace, peace, when there is no peace." 
 
 In a sermon to the young people. May 4, 1879, he spoke of his return 
 from Vermont to his mother, and of his decision to enter the gospel 
 ministry. His text was, "I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who hath 
 enabled me, for that he counted me faithful, putting me into the min- 
 istry." 
 
 Nearly six years were passed, in working as apprentice and 
 journeyman at my trade, in St. Albans and Burlington, Vt. 
 I then visited my mother at Concord, N.H. An absence 
 from fourteen to twenty brought back an enlarged edition 
 of the boy. This was true : the change was so great that 
 the mother did not know her youngest son. The surprise 
 afforded a moment of innocent enjoyment. The remarks of 
 the inq\nsitive youth, and his somewhat impertinent ques- 
 tions, were fitted to confuse the thoughtful and inquiring 
 matron. But one word came so near the maternal heart that 
 her eyes could no longer be holden, or her child liid. 
 
 In after-life once only in preaching did I liave my mother 
 as an auditor. Her good judgment did not forsake her. She 
 was sparing of compliment, and said, "I was pleased with 
 your text." But at that time her heart was opened to make 
 a revelation of her feelings, purposes, and prayers when she 
 sent me away at fourteen : " I did expect that you Avould 
 grow in stature and knowledge. I did expect yaw would be 
 converted to Christ. Deep under all this 1 had the secret 
 desire that you might preach the gospel. For all these I 
 watched and prayed. All these I have now realized from 
 the hand of a covenant-keeping God. ' Now, lettest thou thy 
 servant depart.' " 
 
 And here I must say that it has been my joy and constant 
 support, that in some measure I have been enabled to carry 
 out the prayers and the programme of a "mother 2^ftssed 
 into the skies." 
 
 At this time my peace was disturbed by a fierce inward 
 wrestling Avith this question of duty, — shall I pursue a pleas- 
 ant and lucrative trade, or spend my days in obscurity, pov- 
 erty, and self-denial as a humble missionary at the West? 
 
THE APPRENTICE. 19 
 
 Save the point of submitting my will unconditionally to the 
 will of God, no trial of my life drew so deep, so across the 
 grain of my natural heart, as the turning-away from the craft 
 I had chosen, to a preparation for the gospel ministry. In 
 my early life, in my impenitent state, save the influence of 
 my mother, I was brought up in the nurture and admonition 
 of this world. The chief end of man, according to the cate- 
 chism of my native town, was to make money. That article 
 of their creed I had hid in my heart. In my eyes that man 
 was the hero who made money. If I looked upon a company 
 of students, I admired the candidate for the law, for medi- 
 cine, for political life, because of the hopes of wealth that 
 beckoned him on. The student for the ministry, for mission- 
 ary service, seemed to me a spiritless starveling, a white- 
 livered knight. 
 
 At conversion a light broke in upon me which changed the 
 centres and inward motives of my life. While I resolved 
 to prosecute my business with a prudence and energy that 
 should compel success, to be rich was no longer the goal at 
 Avhich I aimed. Christ and his cause were to be the legatee 
 of my gains. Students for the sacred office I regarded as the 
 most honored of the sons of men. When one of my class- 
 mates in " clockology " laid down his hie for the Latin 
 grammar, I said, " Go ahead, I will do all I can to support 
 you!" And when that brother's zeal ran down, and he 
 returned to his bench, I cannot tell you how deep and 
 secret the inquiry that went into my heart, why not take 
 up his purpose and carry it out? 
 
 This kindled a smouldering fire, that sometimes almost 
 broke out into a blaze. Then I would throw on ashes to 
 smother it. I had at this time made for myself a full set of 
 tools. I had accumulated some money. My prospect for 
 business was not a little inviting. To relinquish such stock 
 in trade, and the fruit of years, gave me pause. Then, again, 
 I might not succeed as a minister : I could succeed as a 
 mechanic. There was much risk of spoiling a good clock- 
 maker for a poor preacher. With such reasoning, for a time 
 I silenced conviction. I continued active in the Sunday- 
 
20 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 school and in the prayer-meetings, and was sometimes sent 
 out to speak in schoolhouses. Here I was frequently plied 
 with the question, "Do you never feel that you ought to 
 prepare to preach the gospel ? " 
 
 In this state of mind I heard Dr. Labaree cf ]\Iiddlebury 
 give an account of the destitution at the West. I read the 
 Bible, and prayed over this question. I found Paul made 
 one part of a call to the ministry a strong desire to glorify 
 God in that way. His word is, "If any man desire the office." 
 That desire I had. But the desire for the office without the 
 ability, the aptness to teach, the natural readiness to commu- 
 nicate truth, could not be " a call." A thirst for the work I 
 had ; but of my ability I wot not. 
 
 At this time I read some remarks of Professor Haddock of 
 Dartmouth College, on the true qualifications of a candidate 
 for the ministry. I could come up to no such standard. 
 Again, for a time, the ghost downed. My convictions were 
 silenced. In this oasis of comparative rest, the pastor of the 
 churcli came to me, inquiring with much earnestness, "Do 
 you not think you should leave your trade for the ministry?" 
 I threw before him Professor Haddock's pamphlet. He 
 replied, that was an ideal perfection, that flesh and blood 
 could not bear such a test, not even the professor himself. 
 From this pressure I found no retreat. " While I kept 
 silence, my bones waxed old." "Day and night his hand 
 was heavy upon me. My moisture was turned into the 
 drouQ-ht of summer." There were moments when it seemed 
 that life would go out of me. One afternoon, as I was passing 
 alone through a pasture, I turned aside to a clump of pines. 
 I fell prostrate on the ground and cried with all my heart, 
 "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do? Show me, and I will 
 do it. ]\fake my path plain, and I will walk in it." I think 
 the submission Avas honest and complete. The burden fell 
 off. I found light in the Lord. 
 
 The question of duty was now accepted and before me, 
 but not decided. . . . God would not call me to a long 
 course of education, and shut me up as to means. So far as 
 I could see, not a dollar was at my command from any other 
 
THE APPRENTICE. 21 
 
 source than my own exertions. I never had begged. I did 
 not propose that method. I remembered that Paul had said, 
 " These hands have ministered to my necessities." Mine can 
 and shall do the same. I was confident I had a better trade 
 than Paul. I will ask no charity. I will absorb no funds 
 that may help another. If I do or do not go into the 
 ministry, I will keep no other one out. To me " the call " 
 was made out. My mind was clear and at rest. I was 
 courageous for the undertaking. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 1833-1839, 
 
 PHILLIPS ACADEMY, ANDOVER, MASS. — DABTMOUTH 
 COLLEGE. 
 
 During the two years from 1833 to 1835, Mr. Eaton was a student at 
 Phillips Academy, Andover, Mass. 
 
 From the time of entering this school, with but few interruptions 
 until his death, he kept a regular diary. The early records are volumi- 
 nous. Every week of every year can be reviewed. Occupations, passing 
 events, travels, are noted. So are the services of each Sabbath, While ■ 
 at Andover and at college we have sketches of the sermons to which he 
 listened. Sometimes several pages are devoted to one which "fed his 
 soul." 
 
 In his earlier journals we find a conscientious account of his inner 
 spiritual life. As the years go on, they show less of this minute and 
 severe introspection. "AVhile he does not afterward neglect the command, 
 " Examine yourselves whether ye be in the faith," the eye is ever out- 
 ward toward Christ; the pious peasant's couplet, one of his favorite 
 
 mottoes : — 
 
 " I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all ; 
 
 But Jesus Christ is my all, and in all." 
 He commences his diary with a series of resolutions : — 
 Andover, Mass., Jan. 5, 1834. Resolved : — 
 
 1. That my motives shall grow out of a sense that I am 
 "not my own," but that I have been "bought with a price." 
 
 2. That I will do nothing out of pride or vain glory, re- 
 venge or envy, but that love to God and love to man shall 
 always be my princi})les of action. 
 
 3. That I will each day converse with some impenitent 
 individual and some Christian brother, and labor for a revival 
 of religion. 
 
 4. That from the time I rise th the time I retire I will not 
 lose one moment of time, but will improve it to the best 
 advantage. 
 
PHILLIPS ACADEMY. 23 
 
 5. That I will undertake nothing but what is duty, and 
 that I will thoroughly and in earnest accomplish it. If study- 
 ing, I will master my lesson. I will avoid a loose manner of 
 doing any thing. 
 
 6. At the close of the day I will review my conduct and 
 see if it accords with these resolutions, and write down the 
 most remarkable events of each day in this book. 
 
 Andover, Mass., Jan. 6, 1834. We were addressed to-day 
 by Mr. George Champion, from the seminary, who is destined 
 to the south-eastern part of Africa to a tribe called the Zulus. 
 May I, with holy avarice, turn all the shreds of time into 
 value more precious than rubies, such as will satisfy a 
 dying-bed. 
 
 Jan. 13. Studied close to-day. We had a good meeting 
 in the evening. Young converts took part in the exercises. 
 Those new songs ! They are music ! 
 
 Jan. 19. TJiis has been one of the days of heaven to my 
 soul. I have had that joy which is unspeakable, and full of 
 glory. Dr. Skinner preached in the afternoon, on missions. 
 I visited some families, and proposed to establish a prayer- 
 meeting among them, which they seemed willing to attend. 
 
 Jan. 26. Sabbath. This has been a good day. Went this 
 evening to the factory ; held a prayer-meeting. The Lord 
 was with us and blessed us. 
 
 Jan. 29. Much driven in my studies, but find some of the 
 hidden manna to feed upon. Had a letter from Brother H. 
 to-day. He writes that Brother C. is in New Orleans. I 
 have much anxiety for my dear friends, but all I can do 
 is to commend them to my heavenly Father, who has so 
 signally blessed us as a family. 
 
 Feb. 3. Theological Seminary missionary-meeting. Mr. 
 Champion presented a report. Mr. C. has given $40,000 to 
 the missionary cause, and expects to go himself as a herald 
 of salvation to South Africa the next December. His soul 
 burns with the love of Jesus. In the spirit of his Master, he 
 inquired why the heathen were not converted. He proved 
 it was not in the heart of God ... It was not the hinder- 
 ances in heathen lands ; that these were not half equal to 
 
24 ItEV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 those in primitive times, which were then overcome. " The 
 obstacles," he said, "hiyin the hearts of Christians." Our 
 sins have separated between us and our God. 
 
 jMarch 22. This day has been spent by about forty students 
 of our academy in putting a tract into every house in the town 
 of Andover. I visited about thirty families. In general the 
 tracts were gladly received. 
 
 Feb. 1, 1835. Heard Dr. Leonard Woods preach a sermon 
 in relation to the death of Messrs. jNIunson and Lyman, mis- 
 sionaries to Sumatra, who were killed and devoured by the 
 
 natives. 
 
 Andover, Mass., Dec. 21, 1834. 
 
 My dear Mother, — ... I have not forgotten you. 
 As you pass down the declivity of life, my love for you 
 strengthens. I feel desirous that your sun, which has so 
 long been overcast with clouds, should set in calm serenity. 
 . '. . You ask me how I succeed at school. All I can tell 
 you is, I love to study, and I study hard. My health has 
 been good, and other things are favorable. As to my soul, I 
 find much remaining depravity, inuch pride and love of the 
 world, bidding me sigh for " the flesh-pots of Egypt." But 
 yet I believe I can say with Paul, " I desire to know nothing 
 but Jesus Christ and him crucified," and am determined to 
 make the most of this short life in extending the knowledge 
 of his gospel. Oh for grace, wisdom, and energy to press 
 on, never turning to the right or to the left until I have 
 finished my work, and obtained my crown. 
 
 I shall enter college next fall. . . . Please preserve the num- 
 bers of tlie "N. Y. Evangelist" and " N. Y. Observer" I have 
 sent you. Would you not like the "Missionary Herald" 
 also? . . . Receive this three dollars. I hope to send you 
 
 more hereafter. 
 
 Your affectionate son, 
 
 Horace Eaton. 
 
 And here it should be stated that, although his mother was now ten- 
 derly cared for by his brothers and sisters, he felt that he could not be 
 denied the privilege of occasional gifts. In his greatest pecuniary straits 
 he rarely failed in every letter to enclose to her a bill of three or five 
 dollars. 
 
PHILLIPS ACADEMY. 25 
 
 Li 1864 he revisits Andover, and thus aUudes to his two years there : — . 
 
 Oct, 11. My mind reverted to my life at Andover thirty 
 years ago. I Avent into Iloom No. 8, House No. 3. In that 
 room I have had spiritual and mental trials. God there 
 often appeared for my help. There I struggled with a mind 
 entirely undisciplined . . . Visited the cemetery back of the 
 Old South. Saw the monuments of Dr. Swift and the Phil- 
 lips family. Dear memories connected with Professor Stuart, 
 Dr. Woods, Mr. Johnson, B. B. Edwards, were revived by 
 visiting their chaste and beautiful monuments. " Squire 
 Farrar" has no monument. Tliose dormitories built by him 
 for the students of Phillips Academy are his monument in 
 many hearts. Called on Mrs. Edwards. She is very kind to 
 my boys. God bless her ! 
 
 The following letter reveals his life at Phillips Academy, and his love 
 for that favored institution : — 
 
 Palmyra, N.Y., May 28, 1878. 
 
 Rev. C. F. P. Bancroft, Pli.D., Chairman of Committee 
 of Arrangements for Centennial Celebration, Phillips Acad- 
 emy, Andover, Mass. : — 
 
 One side of Gray's monument at Stoke Pogis has en- 
 graved upon its face a verse of the Elegy, and is turned 
 toward "the country churchyard." Another side looks 
 toward the spires of Eton College, and records a stanza of 
 the poet's ode to this place of his early training. 
 
 At the call of Phillips Academy to her centennial, a chord 
 responsive vibrates in the breast of every one of her thou- 
 sand sons; and those farthest on, with the sentiments of 
 Gray, can turn from the evening, the " elegy of life," to the 
 gilded spot where dawned their intellectual morning: — 
 
 Ah, happy hills ! ah, pleasing shade ! 
 I feel the gales that from ye blow 
 A momentary bliss bestow, 
 
 As, waving fresh their gladsome wing. 
 My weary soul they seem to soothe, 
 And, redolent of joy and youth, 
 
 To breathe a second spring. 
 
26 REV. HORACE EATON. D.D. 
 
 Time has no tendency to effiice the memory of my 
 entrance into Phillips Academy. A conviction of duty, 
 that would not down, drove me from my native crag, from 
 the most rocky town in the Granite State, from the most 
 rocky town in the world, to Andover. With sore feet and 
 budget in hand, I crossed the Shawsheen Valley, came 
 around by the " old white meeting-house," and climbed the 
 hill. That evening I n?,et the eye of " Squire Farrar," paid 
 the usual fee, five dollars, and was assigned to " room num- 
 ber three, house number three, Latin Commons." That 
 night my pillow was as lonely and as hard as that of the 
 man at Luz. The next morning the bell summoned me to 
 " The Old Brick." On my way a solitude came over me like 
 night. I followed with hesitating step. The bell had just 
 stopped as I stole into the great room, when the gaze of one 
 hundred and fifty quizzical faces threw the poor wight into 
 confusion and into the nearest and lowest seat. Then I 
 knew the heart of a stranger. But when I heard the 
 familiar words of the New Testament read in turn by the 
 scholars, when I heard the old hymns in old tunes, when I 
 heard the clear, soft tones of the principal, Mr. Oliver John- 
 son, and listened to his tender and appropriate supplications 
 as he led the morning devotions, I felt that " God was in 
 that place," that I was no longer an alien or alone. I took 
 heart. I went to my teacher for my task, to my room, to 
 Adams' Latin Grammar ; and for forty-five years since that 
 morning I have not had a moment of uncertainty, loneliness, 
 or discouragement. 
 
 Phillips Academy has ever been the poor boy's friend. 
 Gratitude compels the acknowledgment. It has been the 
 grindstone for dull scythes. When I entered the school, my 
 mind, untrained "as a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke," 
 drew back from continuous thought. My efforts to hold my 
 attention to a point were like attempting to balance a barrel 
 upon the tines of a pitchfork. Samuel H. Taylor put the 
 harness on my wayward brain, and by goad and rein 
 obliged it to keep the furrow, and "to harrow the valleys 
 after" him. Samuel H. Taylor broke me in. 
 
PHILLIPS ACADEMY, 27 
 
 Beside this daily discipline in the school, the whole spirit 
 and atmosphere on the hill were tonic. The Theological 
 Seminary contributed to clear, elevate, and confirm the pur- 
 poses of an uncultured youth. To me that old chapel was 
 the very Holy of holies. Sabbaths so impressive and so still 
 I have never since enjoyed. Such sermons I have never 
 since heard. I had seen Dr. " Porter's Analysis " ; I had 
 read of Dr. Woods; a student had described to me the 
 Hebrew and Greek of " Rabbi Moses ' -A but at the sight of 
 these three men I felt that the half had not been told me. 
 Variety in unity, they were each the complement to each in 
 a perfected whole. The word from their lips preserved the 
 balance,, and kept " the proportion of faith." The first time 
 I listened to Dr. Woods, his sermon was on the love of God, 
 the theme the same, morning and afternoon ; and as he was 
 long preaching, even to the going-down of the sun, he began 
 to wax warm. First he ventured to raise one hand, then the 
 other hand ; .then he threw both arms into the air, and, for- 
 getting his notes, poured out a torrent of thought and holy 
 emotion, which, if it did not lift the rafters, raised the audi- 
 ence into a rapture of amazement and delight : it was grand. 
 Professor Emerson, like a " true master of assemblies," drove 
 and clinched the nail as he preached from the text, " My 
 heart is fixed, O God, my heart is fixed." On one Sabbath 
 we were surprised to find Dr. Taylor, from New Haven, in 
 the pulpit, and to hear from the words, " Make you a new 
 heart." It seemed to us singularly providential that Dr. 
 Tyler should soon follow Dr. Taylor upon the subject of 
 unconditional election, from the text, " I have much people 
 in this city." As those who watch for the morning, so we 
 waited to hear Dr. Lyman Beecher from the West ; nor did 
 we wait in vain. 
 
 The students of the seminary, as well as the professors^ 
 were a blessing to the academy. There were stars then 
 among th^m of the first magnitude. Some still shine in 
 these lower heavens : others have been transferred to the 
 constellations above. Hackett and Humphrey were among 
 
 1 Professor Moses Stuart. 
 
28 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 those who gathered i;s into Bible cLasses. Asa D. Smith 
 took fifty of us throiigli Edwards "On the Affections." Some 
 hopes were settled; some were ?o;settled. A band conse- 
 crated to the foreign field kept the missionary spirit aflame. 
 We Avere suddenly called together one evening, to hear Dr. 
 Wisner of Boston announce that Lyman and Alunson had 
 been murdered by cannibals. Said the secretary of the 
 board, " Do not these murderers need the gospel ? Who of 
 you will go to Sumatra?" And many a heart responded, 
 " Here am I ; send me." There was power in that hour. 
 
 The year 1834 was crowned by a genuine revival. The 
 fruit remained. Sixty of our number were converted. 
 Many became ministers. In a crisis of great solicitude, lest 
 the work should stop, a prayer-meeting was continued in 
 House No. 3 during the entire night. At the dawn of the 
 day, Rev. Dr. John P. Gulliver, an inmate of that house, 
 came into the light of the gospel. 
 
 I am grateful to Phillips Academy for what it did not do 
 for me. While it encouraged climbing, it did not boost. It 
 helped indirectly, by stimulating the poor fellow to help 
 himself. It stretched the sinews of exertion without cut- 
 ting them. It cherished self-reliance and self-resjiect. Be- 
 side my tuition, I know not that I received a gratuitous 
 penny. I went to Andover with hard hands. I knew no 
 hours of leisure or recreation. When not at my studies or 
 religious duties, I was digging rocks for Mr. Farley, on the 
 farm, at eiglit cents an hour, or taking care of Dr. Skinner's 
 horse, or sawing, splitting, piling wood, for Professor Stuart, 
 perhaps dressing his garden. lie liked my work because I 
 could keep up with him. He called me " the fast and the 
 faithful," The silver shekel he paid me was always of full 
 weight. What I valued still more were the golden words of 
 wisd(jm which he threw out as we worked. 
 
 But, after the manner of Paul, I had a craft, and I worked 
 at it. I could fix clocks well. Here my i/ctics helped my 
 tactics. J\Iy clock-curacy embraced those in the highest sta- 
 tions, — the regulator on the steeple of the seminary, the 
 chronometer of Governor Phillips at the Mansion House, 
 
PHILLIPS ACADEMY. ' 29 
 
 not excluding even the plebeian wooden clock that ticked 
 behind the door. I ministered to my permanent charge 
 around the hill on Saturday afternoons. In vacations, like 
 the tinker of Elstow, I practiced my art in itinerant circuits 
 throughout the neighboring parishes. Two years of this 
 method of life enabled me to leave Andover for Dartmouth, 
 improved in pocket and wardrobe, and fitted to sustain a 
 creditable examination for the freshman class. 
 
 In the summer of 1835, George Tliompson from England 
 came to Andover with a messaofe as^ainst American slavery. 
 At the report of this, the "Cotton King" stretched out his 
 sceptre over Phillips Academy with tlie edict, "Silence," 
 " White lips." Some of us, in the good or evil spirit of 
 one Sceva, a Jew, answered, " Jesus we know, and Paul we 
 know; but who are ye?" The storm thus evoked was with 
 voices and thunderings; but, when past, the moral atmos- 
 phere was purified. Some, then censured for their firmness 
 against slavery, have had sons in the same seats, who joined 
 their teachers in the academy, the professors and students in 
 the seminary, and that in the old chapel on the Sabbath 
 day, in applauding the announcement that Lincoln had pro- 
 claimed liberty to the captives, that Lee had surrendered, 
 that Jefferson Davis had been taken ! The logic of events 
 has vindicated the erect ratlier than the subservient attitude 
 in Phillips Academy in 1835. 
 
 With sincere regret that I cannot be present at the cen- 
 tennial, Very respectfully. 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 Horace Eaton. 
 
 The events referred to in the latter part of the foregoing letter have a 
 comical aspect when viewed across the distance of forty-nine years. In 
 the " Earlier Annals of Phillips Academy " we find a humorous account 
 of the same facts : — 
 
 " In June, 1835, during the heat of the antislavery agitation, the elo- 
 quent George Thompson, M.P., of England, came to this peaceful town, 
 and lectured night after night in the old ]\Iethodist church, long since 
 removed, which then stood on Main Street, at the foot of tlie hill. 
 Young America awoke in earnest. What can we do for the slave ? The 
 cause was first taken up by the debating-clubs. The Porter Rhetorical 
 
30 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Society of the seminary opened her guns. She Mas answered by a salute 
 from the Social Fraternity. The artillery of the Philomathean Society, 
 always prompt in the cause of freedom, roared in sympathetic chorus. 
 The great remedy for slavery, hidden'from all past ages, is now made 
 known. We must have an antislavery society in Phillips Academy. 
 The teachers were consulted. ' Cannot the formation of the society be 
 postponed ? ' Perish the revolting thought ! Three millions of slaves 
 were in bondage. Their longing eyes are turned toward Andover hill. 
 Their owners are seen to tremble. The lash is susi:)ended until Phillips 
 Academy shall decide the issue. The walls of Jericho have been ob- 
 served to totter, and one blast from the academic ram's horn will bring 
 them down. Professor Stuart, however, did not see it in this light. He 
 suddenly met a youth in whom he was interested.i 
 
 " ' Here, what are you in this business for ? ' — ' Because my conscience 
 enjoins it,' was the reply. ' Your conscience ; talk about your conscience : 
 where did you get your conscience ? ' — ' By hearing you preach two years,' 
 answered the boy. The use of the academy building was asked for a 
 meeting in which to form an abolition society. It was refused. The 
 Old South Church was refused also. The students then, like the Cove- 
 nanters, fled to the open air, and Indian Ridge has ever since tlieir day 
 been sacred to tlie historian as well as to the geologist. A memorial was 
 addressed to the faculty, long, but moderate and respectful in tone, con- 
 sidering the intense excitement prevailing. The news brought back to 
 the seat of Avar George Thompson, who expounded the first chapter of 
 Isaiah. Unhappy man ! At the sound of exegesis. Professor Stuart took 
 fire. He came forward with 'Philemon and Onesimus.' Seven thunders 
 uttered their voices; and the Greek accents, always hateful to the young 
 mind, were made to retard the progress of freedom. The issue was, tliat 
 six weeks before the close of the term thirty-five left the institution with 
 a qualified dismission.^ 
 
 " There are those who, looking at the occurrence in the light of subse- 
 quent events, maintain that the scholars were the first to feel the breath 
 of the coming era, and anticipated the progress of freedom more clearly 
 than their conservative advisers." 
 
 From journal on entering Dartmouth College : — 
 
 Aug. 28, 1835. After passing a satisfactory examination, 
 ■was admitted to the privileges of Dartmouth College. Some 
 ten years ago I passed through this place, on foot and alone, 
 
 1 This youth was Horace Eaton. 
 
 ' Among these thirty-five was the subject of this sketch. 
 
DARTMOUTH COLLEGE. 31 
 
 on my way to St. Albans. Little did I then think, while in 
 my rustic garb I beheld this institution with eyes of wonder, 
 that after so long an interval I should enter it. But how 
 blessed to follow where Infinite Wisdom directs ! How safe 
 to trust Infinite Love ! He has been with me in the house 
 and by the way ; and my years have been years of the right 
 hand of the Most High. 
 
 Hanover, N.H., Oct. 9, 1835. 
 
 My dear Sister, — ... Although I am anxious to know 
 of your earthly welfare, I desire most of all to hear of the 
 health of your soul. Oh, dear R., learn the poiver of prayer. 
 Get the spirit of prayer. Pray "till you feel your heart 
 ascending near the throne." Pray punctually. Pray with 
 all perseverance, and take fast hold of the promises. . . . 
 
 In common with many college students of those times, his traveling 
 was usually on foot. 
 
 . . . The day I left you, I reached Hanover; but it was the 
 hardest day's work I ever performed. I was wet and almost 
 ingulfed in the mud. I wound my way over those dreary 
 hills in hopes of reaching Canaan. I thought I kept the 
 direction, but on inquiry found I had lost my way, and was 
 going to Dorchester. I came to the end of the road, up in 
 a pasture where was a log-house. All I could learn was the 
 lonesome fact that I was on Orange Hill. I went out, not 
 knowing- whither I went. Never before, since the memorable 
 year we made sugar under the hill by Stevens' Brook, have I 
 felt the meaning of the word " lost." But I sauntered on, 
 and to my great surprise came to my old track, where I took 
 new courage, and made the best of my way to Canaan, reflect- 
 ing on my wanderings, and comparing them with those of the 
 children of Israel to the land of the same name. . . . 
 
 His brother, Dr. Jacob S. Eaton, wrote him, Jan. 2, 1882 : — 
 " I remember, more than four decades ago, after one of your vacations, 
 about this time of winter, I carried you to Danbury Four Corners, a 
 bitter cold morning, to pursue your way on foot some forty miles over 
 the snow-fields to Dartmouth College. "Watching your forced march up 
 the hill, pity melted my heart to tears as you signalled to me ' Good-by.' " 
 
32 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Dartmouth College, Jan. 11, 1836. I want the light of 
 heaven to shine upon me to help me to study, to give 
 perception and energy to my mind, and to gird me up for 
 earnest and successful research. God made the mind. With 
 liim are all the treasures of wisdom. He can open avenues 
 to them M'hich we know not of, and pour in floods of knowl- 
 edge as well as salvation. 
 
 Dartmouth College, April 25, 1830. 
 
 My dear Mother, — ... There is a sentiment impressed 
 upon the soul, and written out in the form of a command, 
 " Honor thy father and thy mother " ; again, the passage you 
 taught me, " He that honoreth not his father, and scorneth 
 to obey his mother, the eagles of the valley shall pick out his 
 eyes, and the young ravens shall eat them." I feel that I 
 have broken these commands in the da3-s of my childhood 
 by my refractory and wicked spirit, and in later years, by 
 neglecting to write you as often as I ought to have done. 
 While I would repent, and pray God to forgive me, I am 
 confident that you also will forgive me. . . . My health has 
 been good. The constitution I inherit from you still remains 
 firm. I am regular in my habits. I will give you a sketch 
 of the manner in Avhich I spend the day, that you may know 
 at any hour what your boy is doing. I rise at four; study 
 till five; devotions till lia]t'-i)ast five; prayers at tiie chapel 
 till quarter before six ; lecitation until a quarter before 
 seven : saw wood till half-past eight ; study till eleven ; 
 recitation till twelve ; the class hold a prayer-meeting until 
 half-past twelve ; dinner until one ; devotions and other 
 duties till two; study until half-])ast four; recitation until 
 half-past five ; prayers in the chapel till quarter before six ; 
 supper till quarter past six. The evening till eight is gen- 
 erally taken up in the meetings of various societies; religious 
 reading and prayers from eight to nine; retire at nine. Thus 
 my days pass rapidly and pleasantly away. . . . 
 
 You doubtless are anxious to know where I design to 
 spend my days shf)nld I be spared to preach the gospel. 
 My dear mother, wlien I hear from the West the call for 
 ministers, with a voice like its own mighty cataracts, I am 
 
DARTMOUTH COLLEGE. 33 
 
 nearly resolved to pitch my tent in the Great Valley. And 
 again, when I listen to the wail that comes up from hundreds 
 of millions, passing in all their guilt and pollution to the bar 
 of God, I am determined to leave my friends and the land of 
 my birth, that I may be the means of plucking one poor 
 heathen from his degradation, and making him a star in the 
 diadem of Qod. I do not say that I shall go to foreign 
 lands ; but I hold myself ready to go if the Lord shall direct. 
 
 There is but one self-denial at which my heart recoils. 
 I want to be where I can look after my dear mother as she 
 grows older. To think of leaving her who cherished and 
 protected me in infancy and childhood, and wliose prayers 
 and blessing have followed me ever since, cuts me to the 
 quick. But why should I borrow trouble when we know 
 not what a day may bring fortli ? 
 
 Hanover is a good place. The Spirit of the Lord has been 
 with us this term. A few give evidence of being born again. 
 The college is ver}^ flourishing. Our professors are all we 
 could ask, — thorough students, devoted Christians. 
 
 If it is possible, I shall visit you this sj^ring ; if not, in July. 
 The stockings you sent me were just in time. Give my love 
 to all my friends. 
 
 Your affectionate son, 
 
 Horace Eaton. 
 
 Dartmouth College, June 19, 1836. 
 
 My dear Mother, — Rev. Dr. Bouton of Concord has 
 preached for us to-day. I have been greatly blessed. I always 
 am when I hear him. ... I am prospered in all my efforts 
 to acquire knowledge. I want to be a fit instrument in the 
 hands cf the Holy Spirit for tlie conversion of men. I need 
 learning, I need strength of intellect: but I need lioliness 
 more. The moon gives Hght ; but in it there is no heat to 
 melt the iceberg. So it is with that preacher who is like a 
 night in January, very clear and very cold. He cannot 
 approach the frozen hearts of men. He cannot save them. 
 Dear mother, pray for me that I may be wholly consecrated 
 to Christ. . . . 
 
34 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 One of Mr. Eaton's nearest and most valued friends during his aca- 
 demic and tlie eai'lier part of his collegiate course was llev. Dr. Samuel 
 Wood, pastor of the Congregational Church of Boscawen, N.Il. He was 
 at that time far advanced in life. lie had fitted scores for college, among 
 them Daniel Webster. His church edifice -was situated in a lovely spot 
 in the valley of the Merrimack. Spiritually, it was a city set on a hill. 
 The old minister loved the young student as his own child ; and the 
 latter, in writing to his mother, says : — 
 
 I have found it good to reside here. The influence of Dr. 
 Wood on my mind is like a heavenly spirit from the world 
 of light. 
 
 In the following letter he alludes to his revered friend : — 
 
 Dartmouth College, Aug. 27, 183G. 
 
 My dear Mother, — . . . At Boscawen I spent some time 
 with the venerable Dr. Wood. I found him knitting. He 
 does this for exercise and diversion. He is now eighty-six 
 years old. He seems on the confines of heaven. He im- 
 parted to me some excellent instruction, told me to make 
 his house my home, offered me pecuniary assistance, gave 
 me a pair of stockings which he had knit, and at the same 
 time implored the benediction of Heaven to rest upon me. 
 I was encouraged, and went on my way rejoicing. 
 
 Dr. Wood's dsath occurred four montlis after. His spirit was called 
 home at six o'clock one Saturday evening. As lie had been brought up 
 in the olden time in the State of Connecticut, where many of the peojile 
 "kept Saturday night," this hour marked the beginning of lux Sabbath. 
 Mr. Eaton was with him. Tlie dear old saint called on "Horace" to 
 pray. The solemnity of that hour was never forgotten.^ 
 
 We take a few extracts from his diary written during a journey to 
 Washington, D.C., in the winter of 1838-39. It was a season of intense 
 political excitement in Congress. The two parties were the Whigs and 
 the Democrats. Varied and antagonistic were the interests and sections 
 represented. The questions of banking, internal improvements, tariff, 
 slave and free labor, and colonization, awakened heated discussion. 
 "There were giants in those days " and in that Congress. There was 
 
 1 It is an interesting coincirlence that at the same hour on Saturday even- 
 in"-, forty -seven years after, Dr. Eaton's young and beloved successor knelt 
 by his bed, and commended his departing soul to God. Unable to speak, he 
 responded by raising liis hand. 
 
DARTMOUTH COLLEGE. 35 
 
 the triumvirate, " the three mighty men," — Clay, Calhoun, and "Webster. 
 Beside them " were other honorable men, though they attained not unto 
 the first three." 
 
 Castletoii, Vt., Nov. 12, 1838. Set out to-day from Hano- 
 ver, intending to spend the winter in Washington City, or 
 in some other part of the South. . . . 
 
 New York Cit}^ Sabbath, Nov. 18. At noon visited the 
 Five Points Sabbath-school. In this locality sights met my 
 eye that would have made the clieek of darkness pale. But 
 it was blessed in such precincts to see the young collected in 
 a Sabbath-school. The children were very noisy when we 
 first went in. There were nearly one hundred in a little room, 
 and, notwithstanding all their filth, I never saw fifty boys 
 together with more intelligfent faces. There was not a thick 
 skull among them, or a sleepy hair on one of their heads, 
 though they were all rogues. 
 
 At Philadelphia, Nov. 21. Started from New York on 
 board a steamer. At a distance of some thirty miles from 
 the city, exchanged the boat for a railroad-car. In this 
 way we proceeded some thirty-five miles farther, to Borden- 
 town, N.J. At B. we again took a boat and glided down 
 the Delaware to this beautiful city of William Penn, arriving 
 just at dark. 
 
 Washington, Nov. 26. In returning from Georgetown to- 
 day, I met a colored man. After mutual salutations, I said, 
 " Whose man are you ?" — " My own." — " How is that ? " — 
 "I bought myself." — " For how much ? " — '^$490." — 
 "Well, what do you do now?" — "I labor for the Canal 
 Company." — " Wliat do you earn ? " — " One dollar a day." 
 — "What do you do with your wages?" — "I bu't me a 
 place for $450, and shall pay the last soon." Here we came 
 to a church that is building. I asked, "Do you attend 
 church?" — " I'm a Methodist." — "Do you hope you have 
 i-eligion ? " — "I don't hope at all : I feel the love of Christ." 
 He spoke of one of the brethren of his church who was now 
 " in the pen, ready to be bidden off," — a bold man, of good 
 talents and good heart, who was expecting to become a 
 preacher. " Our male members," said lie, " have raised $450, 
 
36 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 and the female $420, and we're going to bu}' him." He told 
 
 me how the president of College had lateh' sold four 
 
 hundred slaves to the ex-governor of Mississippi, and that 
 they had all been shipped to the cotton and rice fields of that 
 land of death. 
 
 Nov. 27. Read Shakespeare to-day. Visited the Capitol. 
 Found the name of John Quincy Adams left at the seat 
 he had chosen. The Representatives' Hall, having been 
 thoroughly repaired, the order of the seats has been changed. 
 Punctuality is one of the crowning virtues of tlie ex-Presi- 
 dent. Among the first who arrived, prompt at his duty, he 
 selected his seat. As he is somewhat deaf, he chf)se one near 
 the speaker. Tlie reputation of this man is most enviable, 
 even among his enemies. He is noted for his plain, repub- 
 lican manner of life, his independence, honor, and generosity. 
 He owns a good deal of property here in houses and lands. 
 He paid $25,000 for the erection of Columbian College in 
 this city, and tlie same sum to the Canal Compau}^, which, I 
 am told, is all sunk. 
 
 Sabbath, Dec. 2. Went to church in the morning, and 
 came away lean, unsatisfied, forsaken. The fact was, I went 
 more to see an old man whose breath is in his nostrils than 
 to commune with the Eternal One ; with more curiosity in 
 regard to the President of the United States than reverence 
 for the Lord of the wliole earth. The consequence wAs, the 
 sanctuary was robbed of all its glory, and my soul of all holy 
 pleasure. 
 
 Dec. 9. Met with the Sabbath-school this morning. I have 
 never fallen in with a more warm-liearted or Avorking class of 
 Christians. I sliall long remember ]\Ir. W., Mr. S., and others. 
 May I at last meet them in heaven! Another fact, — this 
 church is nearly or quite free from all complicity with slavery. 
 Some have told me they loathed and abhorred it, and 
 esteemed it the blighting and mildew of all that is good. 
 Was called upon to address the Sabbath-school. Was glad 
 of an tJi^portunity once more to reconnnend the Saviour. 
 May the Lord add his blessing ! 
 
 Dec. 11. The Senate to-day was a place of more than 
 
DARTMOUTH COLLEGE. 37 
 
 common interest, not on account of the business, but Henry 
 Clay had arrived. So said the paper. I Avas curious to 
 recognize him, if possible, from his known character and por- 
 trait. This I was not able to do half so readily as in the 
 case of Calhoun. ... In the senate-chamber the administra- 
 tion men — Calhoun, Benton, and others — sit on the right 
 of the speaker ; the Whigs — Webster, Clay, Davis, and the 
 rest — on the extreme left. 
 
 When I first saw ]Mr. Calhoun, he sat upright, motionless 
 in his seat. I have never been so struck with ease and grace- 
 fulness of posture as at my first sight of Mr. Clay. Calhoun, 
 in saluting his friends, was dignified, sparing of his smiles, 
 cold, and reserved : but Clay would rise, reach far over the 
 seat, shake hands most cordially, laugh heartily, and shed a 
 blaze of good-feeling all around him. Clay has a fair, smooth 
 forehead; his hair is brown, a generous strip of baldness 
 extends over his head. Calhoun has a low, knit brow, the 
 thick and silver-gray hair coming down within an inch of his 
 nose. The rest of his countenance is withered and dry. 
 
 Dec. 12. This has been a high day. I \vas standing in 
 the Rotunda when all at once there was a rush from the 
 House to the Senate. I joined the crowd. " Clay is speak- 
 ing! " was the cry. But it turned out to be Preston of South 
 Carolina. Mr. Calhoun followed him. Calhoun was more 
 nervous in his expression, less frequent but more violent in 
 his gestures, clearer in his propositions, than Preston. He 
 spoke in condemnation of the tariff, and hurled at Clay his 
 heaviest bolt. Although it struck Clay with tremendous 
 force, he did not flutter, but rose very modestly, and began 
 farthest from the point of attack, as though no allusion had 
 been made to himself. But he kept coiling around, and gath- 
 ering in, until he came with concentrated power \\\)on his 
 antagonist and the executive chair. He fairly parried the 
 blow, and then turned it with redoubled force upon his 
 enemies. He showed up the inconsistency of General Jack- 
 son in the distribution of the supplies, and yet condemning 
 the deposit act. Silas Wright of New York, Rives of Vir- 
 ginia, Brown of North Carolina, followed. 
 
38 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Sabballi, Dec. 15. Attended Wesley Chapel. Heard Rev. 
 Georse G. Cookman. Mr. C. is the most distin/xuished 
 preacher, the most eloquent minister, in the city. His soul 
 was inspired, and his tongue touched by the poetry of the 
 Psalms and the prophets. His quotations were most appro- 
 priate. He repeated with great effect the first of that beau- 
 tiful song in the third chapter of Habakkuk, "God came 
 from Teman, and the Holy One from jNIount Paran. His 
 glory covered the heavens, and the earth was full of his 
 praise," etc. How valuable a ready aptness in repeating the 
 impressive parts of the Old Testament! They never tire. 
 
 Dec. 17. This has been another high day. After a 
 skirmish between Messrs. Petrikin, Naylor, and Bidule, in 
 regard to the Harrisburg riot, there was a regular engage- 
 ment between John Q. Adams and Henry A. Wise, upon a 
 motion to receive a petition for the acknowledgment of 
 Hayti as an independent power. Adams presented the 
 unbroken front of sound, consistent argument, and profound 
 diplomatic knowledge, all set on fire with the unabated vigor 
 and youthful ardor of this "old man eloquent." To hear 
 him utter the sentence, "And there are manij of those peti- 
 tions! Yes, I have some from old Virginia, God bless her!" 
 was worth a journey to Washington. It was evident Wise 
 was in the wrong pew, and had waked up the wrong passen- 
 ger. In his complete discomfiture he rose and said the best 
 tiling he could have said, "There is no doing any thing with 
 this old Roman." 
 
 Dec. 18. The cause of Hayti has prevailed. 
 
 Dec. 21. Visited the Supreme Court of the United States, 
 where sit eight judges, — Chief Justice Taney of iMaiyland, 
 Smith Thompson of New York, Henry Baldwin of Pennsyl- 
 vania, Philip Pendleton Barbour of Virginia, Joseph Story 
 of Massachusetts, James jNI. Wayne of Georgia, John Catron 
 of Tennessee, and John INIcLean of Ohio. Saw for the first 
 time Daniel Webster, the lion of the North. He looks like 
 no other man. In the Senate lie appears like Jujjiter among 
 the gods. He has the most dignified and commanding pres- 
 ence I ever beheld. 
 
DARTMOUTH COLLEGE. 39 
 
 Dec. 24. Heard Webster close a plea before the bench, 
 of the chief justices of the United States. His style and 
 address were exactly fitted to affect the minds he would 
 persuade, clear and convincing to the understanding, with 
 hardly an attempt to create an emotion. Now and then he 
 would interrupt the tedium of reading by indulging a vein 
 of wit. In summing up the evidence he showed the match- 
 less orator. All parts of his argument came together like the 
 joints of a dove-tail, and formed a perfect whole. When he 
 had finished his speech, a thrill of delight and admiration ran 
 through the entire audience. For forensic eloquence, for 
 clear, irresistible reasoning, he is unequalled. The structure 
 of his mind seems to partake of the firm, compact organiza- 
 tion of his body. He is logic embodied, living, breathing, 
 walking. 
 
 At noon, in company with friend G., I proceeded to the 
 auction-room, where I witnessed worse than a funeral. A 
 man about tliirty-eight years of age was presented to be sold 
 to the highest bidder. " Ben must be sold. How much am 
 I offered?" One hundred dollars was the first bid. There 
 was a slave-driver present. He took liold of him, felt of him, 
 and asked him if he had any disease. The negro was afraid 
 he would buy him, and would not answer. With a signifi- 
 cant look, the driver told him he had better mind what he 
 was about. Upon the face of the poor fellow were seen the 
 alternate flashes of joy and horror as the bidding went on. 
 At last he was struck off to a citizen of Alexandria. Tears 
 of joy burst from the eyes of the slave, and he said, " I thank, 
 I thank you, Massa ! " This enraged the driver, and he cried 
 out, " He is worth five hundred dollars," and began bantering 
 the one who had purchased him. The latter was evidently 
 willing to sell his newly acquired property for a bargain. 
 I left this scene with a burning heart. Sometimes pity, and 
 then indignation, predominated. The thing the unhappy man 
 feared came upon him, for toward night I saw the driver and 
 his victim in a wagon, going towards the " slave-pens." I 
 had before visited these places. They are situated just in 
 front of the Capitol, at the corner of what is called Wash- 
 
40 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 iiigton S(|n;u'e. The proprietor seemed very severe with us; 
 wanted to know if we wished to buy. When told we onl}' 
 came to look, he suffered us to go through a large iron door, 
 opening into the outer apartment and the yard. From 
 thence we descended into a kind of cellar, where were four 
 or live males and two females who were sick. A man had 
 died the day before. My blood froze around my heart, and 
 curdled in my veins. 
 
 Dec. 25. Went to the Capitol. Heard Rives. . . . Wright 
 of New York answered him. The latter is slow in his move- 
 ments, moderate in his utterances, one of the few great men 
 of the Senate. 
 
 Dec. 27. Felt the pangs of remorse as I reflected before 
 I rose, on the little relish I had for the holy Sabbath. Sang 
 the hj'mn tlirough, " Oh for a closer walk with God,'' and 
 the darkness seemed to break, and rays of light beamed from 
 the excellent glory into my dark breast. Attended church 
 again at Mr. Cookman's. 
 
 Dec. 28. Went to the Senate to-day. Heard Benton and 
 Davis debate upon a question relating to the iisheries. . . . 
 Heard Hubbard of New Hampshire, Buchanan of Pennsyl- 
 vania, Niles of Connecticut, Robbins of Rhode Island, Crit- 
 tenden of Kentucky. 
 
 Feb. 7. Went to the Senate earl3^ Found the galleries 
 crowded. I could scarcely enter the door. All ej^es were 
 intent, all looked approbation. " Wlio is s})eaking? " — "Clay, 
 Clay." — " What on ? " — " On abolition." It was evident to 
 all present, that it was only another game played upon the 
 political ciicss-board. i\Ir. Clay had heretofore been less 
 ready to condemn the abolitionists than Mr. Calhoun and 
 some other Southern members. As the strength of the abo- 
 litionists was increasing, and Clay's reputation at the North 
 diminishing, the South must be laid hold of with a stronger 
 grasp ; therefore Mr. Clay must have an opportunity to speak 
 upon the subject. So, for his benefit, a paper was gotten uj) 
 among the citizens of the District, against the admission of 
 abolition i)ctitions. Clay's Avas a premeditated and studied 
 efibrt. He went over the whole ground, biinging every 
 
DARTMOUTH COLLEGE. 41 
 
 argument against emancipation, that the most selfish, tyran- 
 nical mind could suggest, — just such in substance as a dis- 
 tinguished orator of Algiers offered against the liberation of 
 some of our countrymen who had been taken prisoners. 
 The speech was made for Southern ears, and it had its desired 
 effect. The greetings he received were enthusiastic. When 
 he sat down, Calhoun congratulated the country, the Senate, 
 and himself, that Mr. Clay had been converted to the princi- 
 ple of State Rights, which he (Mr. Calhoun) had so long 
 advocated. So the poor slave went unpitied to-day. No 
 one of all those Northern men lifted a voice in his behalf! 
 Davis skulked; Webster was in the Supreme Court; the rest 
 were dumb. It will not always be so. Tliere will be 
 men yet in that chamber who will represent the cause of 
 
 freedom. 
 
 Dartmouth College, March, 1839. 
 
 Dear Brother Jacob, — I have just returned from a 
 journey South. Traveled on foot through some of the 
 richest parts of Maryland. One of my chief objects was to 
 replenish my empty wallet. I have observed much that was 
 grand and beautiful in nature and art. I have looked upon 
 slavery, not only upon its fair exterior in the foreground, but 
 I have peeped behind the curtain. I have seen the peck of 
 meal per week, the whips, the drivers, the wheel-work all 
 in motion — tlie arrogance, the cruelty, the profligacy of one 
 side ; the dejection, insolence, and toil of the other. I have 
 heard the suppressed sigh and the savage threat. I have seen 
 the image of God sold under the salesman's hammer. . . . 
 
 The journey has been the most perilous of my life. Sus- 
 picion rests upon every one from the North. I found it 
 necessary to put on all the wisdom of the serpent ; yet I 
 am not conscious of deception, and was resolved, if necessary, 
 to state the truth, and leave it with God. I however kept a 
 padlock on my lips. I interfered not with any of their mat- 
 ters. Once I was stopped in my way with the word, " This 
 fellow is one of them, for his speech bewrayeth him." I could 
 not disguise my native Yankee dialect. They proposed to 
 examine my effects. I knew, did they read my journal, 
 
42 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 lynching might be one of the least of my punishments. I 
 assumed the air of a courtier, a wounded cavalier. " I pro- 
 fess," said I, "to be a gentleman. I have done nothing 
 while in your State inconsistent with the character of a 
 gentleman. I demand protection from gentlemen." This 
 little speech touched the riglit chord. I was welcomed to 
 the mansion, and on leaving was urged by the planter and 
 his family to come again. With but few exceptions I was 
 received with the greatest hospitality : I was fed with the 
 finest of the wheat, and lodged upon down. 
 
 But the dogs, oh the dogs! I have literally fought with 
 worse than the beasts of Ephesus. So anxious was I to make 
 my pile, that for a time I imprudently traveled after twilight. 
 These dogs are merciless as a bear robbed of her whelps. I 
 have great reason for thankfulness that not a tooth has en- 
 tered ray flesh. But I still shudder as I recollect how near 
 I came being torn in pieces by packs of these creatures. 
 
 He graduated from college, July 25, 1839. 
 
 To his sister : — 
 
 Bristol, N.H., August, 1839. 
 
 . . . We had the usual crowd upon Commencement Day. 
 Hon. Rufus Choate was present. ... I am once more afloat 
 upon the broad ocean of life. The last four years have been 
 most delightful. They have engaged all my mental and 
 physical energies. But they are over. The band of noble 
 hearts with whom I entered are already scattered. No more 
 will the bell summon us to the recitation-room or the place 
 of our accustomed solemnities. I pity the man who does 
 not reflect seriously, and feel deeply, at the breaking-up of 
 such associations, at the sundering of such ties. Who can 
 look back upon a college-course, and not sigh that days so 
 blessed in social, intellectual, and religious interest, are for- 
 ever gone. . . . 
 
 We subjoin letters in regard to his life at Dartmouth from two sur- 
 viving classmates, to whom, as to all the class of '39, he was most tenderly 
 attached. 
 
 From Rev. Charles Teabody of St. Louis, Mo. : — 
 
 " The first time I ever saw Horace Eaton was in the fall of 1833, at 
 
DARTMOUTH COLLEGE. 43 
 
 Meriden, N.II., where he came to prepare for college at Kimball Union 
 Academy. My recollections of him at tliis time are very distinct. We 
 met in the academy prayer-meeting. His earnest, Christian spirit, his 
 fervency in speaking and leading in prayer, drew me soon to him. 1 was 
 impressed with his self-reliant manner, especially in fitting up his room. 
 He procm'ed the little articles of furniture, and took them to the academy 
 and up the stairs without any assistance, even a stove of considerable 
 size. During this brief acquaintance, I learned from him that he was 
 determined to get a good education, and to prepare himself for the min- 
 istry, relying alone upon his own energy and industry. He was only at 
 Meriden a fevv^ weeks. He left for Andover, Mass., that he might have 
 better opportunities to earn money while studying. 
 
 "In the autumn of 1835 we both joined the freshman class of Dart- 
 mouth College. I was prepared, from our pleasant interviews at IVIeriden, 
 to welcome him as an old acquaintance. Soon after entering Dartmouth, 
 and in pursuance of his plans of self-support, he organized and became 
 the steward of a boarding-club, which he managed with such success that 
 it soon drew a large number of students, chiefly of his own classmates. 
 This position he held luost of the time while at Hanover. It gave him 
 his board for his services, and brought him into close and familiar asso- 
 ciation with twenty or thirty of the best and most serious-minded young 
 men. 
 
 "He also turned his attention to an art which he had thoroughly 
 learned before commencing his studies. He had mastered the mechanism 
 of the clock and the watch, and knew how to repair them when out of 
 order. He had retained a complete set of tools. The first trial of these 
 was upon the watches of his fellow-students. So great was his success in 
 his handicraft, that he soon had plenty of work, much to the satisfaction 
 of the students and the chagrin of the jewelers of the village. They 
 found little to do in repairing and adjusting the time-keepers of those 
 who knew how well Horace Eaton understood the cause and cure of 
 watch troubles. In his walks for recreation into the country, he always 
 carried his case of tools, and the farmers of all that region soon found 
 out who could put their clocks in good running order. 
 
 " I well recollect that one Saturday afternoon during our freshman 
 year, I accompanied him some miles into the country for exercise. We 
 finally came to a large farmhouse. Said Eaton, ' Let's go in and get a 
 glass of water.' We told the good housewife that we were students, and 
 craved the privilege of sitting down to rest ourselves for a few minutes. 
 She invited us into the best room, where were a bed and a clock. After 
 quenching our thirst, my comrade inquired, ' Does that clock keep good 
 time?' — 'No,' she replied : 'it don't ruu any more. Something is the 
 matter with it.' 
 
44 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 " In two minutes, without another word, the clock was all in pieces, 
 and spread out upon the bed. Just tlieu the farmer liimself came in, and 
 seeing wheels, pendulum, pinions, pins, springs, hands, and the ■whole of 
 his clock thus scattered, looked on in dismay without uttering a word. 
 Eaton said nothing ; but after plying brushes, fdes, pliers, and oil to the 
 various parts, and straightening out rods, arbors, pinions, and pins, which 
 were bent, he soon had all the machinery in its place, and the old clock 
 began to tick. After Avinding it up, and setting it by his w-atch, he said, 
 'There: it will run all right now.' The farmer had not yet spoken a 
 word. Putting his hand into his pocket at last, he said, ' How much do 
 you charge for the job?' — 'Never mind,' was the reply : ' when 1 come 
 up this way again on a long walk, I will call and see how it goes, and, if 
 I find it all right, you may pay me a dollar.' This was a sample of his 
 skill and methods of self-support, which I witnessed on many occasions 
 afterward. 
 
 " When the long vacations came round, which were designed in those 
 days to give students an opportunity to earn something by teaching, 
 Eaton could not afford to spend his time in a heated schoolroom. He 
 went through the country, and with his ingenuity and tools always came 
 back at the end of the vacation with more money in his pocket than any 
 of the rest of us. In one winter he w'andered off as far as Wasliington, 
 where he remained several weeks, and returned not only with a full purse, 
 but with his mind stored with new ideas. Upon the invitation of his 
 fellow-students, he gave a lecture upon what he had seen and heard in the 
 capital of the nation. He first spoke of the President, Van Buren, and 
 the White House, and then of the great men of the time, — Webster, 
 Clay, Calhoun, John Quincy Adams, and others, — to all of whom he had 
 listened in the Senate or the House. He described the public buildings, 
 especially the post-office department and the patent-office. I remember 
 with what a glow of eloquence he referred to a treaty of peace between 
 France and the United States, which he saw in a frame hanging on the 
 wall, and to which was affixed the veritable signature of the great Napo- 
 leon. The fact that that hand which had so long held sway over Europe 
 had once rested on this same piece of parchment fired his imagination. 
 He had looked upon the autograph of the man who had deposed kings, 
 and caused the earth to tremble. That same eye which had so often 
 gazed through the smoke of battle upon his victorious armies had once 
 glanced down on these strokes of the pen. He carried Napoleon across 
 the Alps amid their eternal snows. He traced his career at Marengo, 
 Jena, and Austerlitz, then, with a single sentence, laid him away at St. 
 Helena, in his solitary grave. I need not add that his account of the 
 public men at Washington, and csjiecially his eloquent description of 
 the treaty and the great events which it suggested, produced a profound 
 
DARTMOUTH COLLEGE. 45 
 
 impression upon liis audience. He was the popular orator of Ins class 
 from that day. It was partly this unexpected display of oratorical 
 ability, and partly a knowledge of his sincere, transparent character, 
 and simple, unostentatious manners, that made him known, and a 
 favorite with all classes. 
 
 " This esteem exhibited itself in a remarkable manner at the close of 
 his junior year. He was then almost unanimously elected president for 
 the senior year of the Literary Society, to which he belonged. His 
 warm heart and devoted piety, especially his firmness in expressing and 
 upholding his convictions upon religious and moral questions, won for 
 him the sincere regard of all. 
 
 " But he was no ascetic. He was ever ready to join in all manly and 
 athletic sports, which, however, at that time, were few, compared with 
 the games of the present day. On one occasion, with a company of 
 eight or ten college-boys, he arose before midnight, and walked to the 
 top of Ascutney Mountain, some twenty-four miles distant, to see the 
 sun rise. No one enjoyed the tramp, or the radiant dawning of the new 
 day, more than he. He often referred to it as the grandest panorama he 
 ever beheld. The fatigue nearly prostrated most of the party ; but he 
 seemed only invigorated. 
 
 " He was a close and compact thinker, framed a strong and convin- 
 cing argument, and at the same time was of a poetic turn of mind. He 
 often dwelt on the rich drapery of thought presented in the Old Testa- 
 ment, and was wont to make use of poetic quotations from the Scrip- 
 tures in his essays. The subject assigned him for his oration when he 
 graduated was 'Hebrew Poetry,' which showed that this mental trait 
 was well understood by the college faculty. 
 
 " One other characteristic incident is recalled. Long after we had 
 left the shades of Dartmouth, we met at the annual conmiencement. 
 Hanover, as usual, was crowded with visitors. There was no place for 
 us in the inn. We sought, not a stable, but the room of a friendly stu- 
 dent, who gave us the use of his floor, where Horace Eaton and I slept 
 side by side. The next day we sat in the same seat in the venerable 
 church. The college president was conferring degrees. 
 
 " Soon ' Reverendus Horatius Eaton, Palmyra, N, Y.,' saluted oiu- ears. 
 A sudden look of blank amazement fell on his face. He whispered to 
 me something like this, ' O pshaw ! that mustn't be ! ' and dropped his 
 head on the back of the next pew, as if in shame and astonishment. It 
 was to him totally unlooked for and unexpected. Upon retiring from 
 the church, he pushed his way quickly through the multitude to avoid 
 his old classmates and friends, waiting at the door to salute him ' Dr. 
 Eaton.' 
 
 " To these pleasant college-memories I might properly add, that, dur- 
 
46 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 iag an intimate friendship with him of forty-five years since we gradu- 
 ated from Dartmouth, I have traced in liis private life and in his public 
 labors the same earnest, sincere, unostentatious spirit, the same fervid 
 eloquence, and the same devoted piety which were so conspicuous in his 
 college-days." 
 
 From Rev. Alfred Stevens, D.D., of Westminister, Vt. : — 
 
 " I was intimate with Dr. Eaton in college. We were in sympathy in 
 our views and plans, and were often drawn together in the offensive and 
 defensive work demanded by the times. He was a live man. Xo question 
 or movement in or out of the college escaped his notice. All the world 
 was for him, and he for all the world. His college-life entered into the 
 life of the world with a rare enthusiasm, always tempered with wisdom. 
 
 "He was a reliable man. Wlien satisfied what was right, I knew 
 where to find him, and wliat support might be expected from him. The 
 right was his ideal. This being settled, he gave place to no man or 
 practice. 
 
 " With fellow-classmates we came together as strangers. Each was 
 anxious to know of what stuff the other was made. An opportunity 
 soon offered that brought out ' Horace,' as he was familiarly called, in 
 his true light before the class. It had been a custom of long standing 
 for the freshmen to furnish the foot-ball for the higher classes. The 
 class was called upon to appoint a committee to take charge of the busi- 
 ness, and make out a tax to meet the expense. The point was being 
 considered pro and con. Presently there rose up a form as defiant as a 
 rock. Every look, motion, and word were defiant. 'Let those that 
 dance pay the fiddler. If I play foot-ball, as I may, I wall pay my part ; 
 but I will not acknowledge the right of any upper-class men to impose a 
 tax on me.' This decided the question. The class of '39 did not fur- 
 nish the foot-ball. 
 
 " The subject of slavery was then before the country and the world. 
 He was an abolitionist, outspoken in face of the conservatism of most of 
 the students and the faculty. He was an advocate of immediate emanci- 
 pation. The professor of moral philosophy thought to take him down a 
 little on this subject before the class. 
 
 " ' Eaton, if I were an eagle, and should seize you by the hair of your 
 head, and take you up fifty feet into the air, should I have any right to 
 hold you there ? ' — ' No, sir,' was the modest answer. ' Would it be right 
 for me to let you fall at once?* — 'The whole transaction is wrong, sir. 
 No part of it can be right,' was the emphatic reply. Nothing more was 
 said. He respected the opinions of his seniors; but he loved the truth 
 more, and would defend it in sight of the stake, if need be. He was 
 progressive; but his ardor was always moderated by good judgment. 
 Some of our classmates at length became ultra in their zeal for reform, 
 
DARTMOUTH COLLEGE. 47 
 
 rash in their speech and measures. He was the last to be moved by 
 them, and boldest to oppose everything in doctrine and practice that was 
 not Christlike in spirit. I well recall his grief as he felt obliged to 
 separate from some that sympathized with him in the main, but became 
 denouncers of all who did not indorse their notions. He knew of no 
 fellowship that did not hold him in communion with the Saviour. A 
 word against Christ, his church, or the Bible, was fatal to co-operation 
 with him. 
 
 " He had an aim in life higher than promotion. He worked early and 
 late, and was willing to be poor, that he might fit himself to benefit his 
 fellowmen. As a friend, he was ever generous and helpful. Those that 
 knew him best expected a useful career for him, and his life fulfilled 
 their predictions. 
 
 " The sti'ength of his character was in his Christian culture. To be a 
 Christian with him was first and last : to fail in this was to fail in 
 every thing. His Christian discipline was severe. He did not float with 
 the tides of this world. He knew what Paul meant when he said, * So 
 fight I.' His mind and body were subjected to watchfulness, lest he 
 fjhould fail in the performance of duty. 
 
 " His religious influence was great in and around the college. It was 
 manifest why he was a member of Dartmouth College : it was for 
 Christ. He was a supporter of every movement to raise the standard of 
 Christian thinking and living in the college. He had large views of 
 work for Christ, and was not afraid of large plans, and of earnestness in 
 their execution. To his over-cautious friends he would say, ' Strength in 
 the machinery, and put on the steam. Don't be afraid to trust the 
 leader.' 
 
 " Almost fifty years have passed since we were students together ; but I 
 recall with pleasure and profit those scenes of prayer and conference in 
 our college-days. His faith was simple : it was not a muddle of probabili- 
 ties or possibilities. I see him now just as he used to stand up before 
 us, firmly on the good foundation, ' By grace ye are saved through faith, 
 and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God ' ; and I hear him say 
 with emphasis, ' Brethren, there is nothing uncertain in Christ.' 
 
 " I simply add, he was a grand man, my best friend. I feel his influ- 
 ence to-day. His college-life has been an inspiration to me all my minis- 
 terial life. I regret that I shall see his face no more, or feel the hearty 
 grasp of his hand. But I do, and shall always, feel the beating of his 
 Christian heart, and hope, in a few years at the most, to meet him 
 among those that have been faithful until death." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 1839-1849. 
 
 UNION THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, NEW YORK. — MINISTRY 
 AT THE SIXTH-STREET CHURCH, NEW YORK. — MAR- 
 RIAGE. — LAST ILLNESS OF HIS MOTHER. 
 
 Extracts from his diary and letters ^vill give the history of these 
 years. 
 
 Oct. 7, 1839. Left Concord, N.H., to-day, and arrived at 
 Andover, here expecting to prosecute the study of theology. 
 Am more than ever impressed with the responsibility of the 
 sacred office. Did Paul say " Who is sufficient for these 
 things," and shall I assume them? 
 
 Oct. 10. Spent the day in studying the Hebrew gram- 
 mar. 
 
 To understand the subject to which he next alhides, it miist be borne 
 in mind that, in those days, one dollar paid the postage of but four let- 
 ters to distances now regarded short. 
 
 Oct. 11. P)eing tempted to evade the law by writing on a 
 newspaper, I rejected the thought, and had sweet deligiit in 
 meditating upon the passage, " That ye may be blameless and. 
 harmless, the sons of God, Avithout rebuke." How plain the 
 road! always do just right. Then will the soul be led in 
 the path of peace. 
 
 At this time he very unexpectedly decided to pursue his studies at the 
 Union Theological Seminary in New York. The reasons are given iu a 
 letter to his motlier : — 
 
 ... 1 know you will be surprised, and perhaps will fear 
 that I am unstable. I am sure when I tell you why I left 
 Andover, you will approve. 
 
 The expense is greater at Andover than at New York. 
 
 There is no opportunity to earn a farthing at Andover. 
 In New York I can teach one, two, or three hours per day. 
 
THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY. 49 
 
 But the thing trhat made it imperative was a letter from 
 requesting me to pay the twenty-five dollars I owe him. 
 
 I did not deem it my duty to put back my studies for the 
 sake of paying this sum. I therefore go to New York to earn 
 it while pursuing them. 
 
 He alway;^ regarded the day he spent in Boston, en route for New- 
 York, as an important one in determining tlie direction of his future 
 life. Wendell Pliillips had laeard him speak at Concord, ISTJI., while a 
 member of Dartmouth College, and with others was desirous that he 
 should devote himself to lecturing in behalf of the antislavery cause. 
 When he arrived at Boston, he was invited to a dinner to meet Mr. P., 
 with a view of making arrangements for this end. These facts explain 
 the following entry in his journal : — 
 
 Oct. 16, 1839. Came to Boston, where I was welcomed 
 
 with great cordiality. Was urged by every motive that 
 
 ardent zeal could invent to turn aside, and engage in the 
 
 business of lecturing. After serious reflection, contrary to 
 
 all pecuniary interests, I refused their solicitations. I would 
 
 pursue the object I have long sought, and pant to attain, — 
 
 to preach the glorious gospel of the blessed God. I did not 
 
 go to the dinner. I thought I had better be out of the way 
 
 of temptation, and, mailing a note, hastened on the train to 
 
 New York. 
 
 To his mother : — 
 
 New Yokk, Nov. 14, 1839. 
 
 ... I am now doing my best to acquire the Hebrew. Dr. 
 Nordheimer, a Jew, is my teacher. I assure you, dear mother, 
 there is something solemn and inspiring in reading this sacred 
 language in which patriarchs prayed, prophets sung, angels 
 talked, in which Jehovah himself spoke. 
 
 There is nothing I love so well as to study tlie word of 
 God. And if study for the ministry is so delightful, what 
 must be the actual service of feeding Christ's lambs ! I now 
 feel that, if ever prepared and permitted to engage in that 
 blessed work, I shall be one of the most favored of Heaven. 
 I love the Bible, not only as the text-book of my profession, 
 but theie I find my daily food and consolation. 
 
 We have frequent notices in his journal of the remarks, sermons, and 
 addresses of his revered teachers in the seminary, Eev. Drs. White and 
 
50 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Robinson, as well as those of prominent pastors. and laymen of the city, 
 — Rev. Drs. Spring, Patton, A. D. Smith, Brownlee, Tyng, S. II. Cox, 
 Armstrong', William Adams, and lion. Theodore Frelingliuysen. Save 
 his devoted friend, Rev. Dr. John Spaulding, who has for so many years 
 borne upon his heart and hands the interests of those "who go down to 
 the sea in ships," all these leaders in Israel now rest from their labors. 
 
 In the autumn of 1839 he was invited by Rev. Dr. Erskine ^lason 
 to become superintendent of the Sabbath-school of Bleeker-street 
 Church. In a short time his characteristic zeal and faithfulness had 
 nearly doubled the number of its pupils. He traversed streets, lanes, 
 and alleys ; he scoured garrets, lofts, and cellars. In that winter of 
 great financial distress he rescued many families on the verge of starva- 
 tion. In one of his "walks abroad" he found a widow whose husband 
 had just died, leaving her with a large family of children. They had 
 been in this country but a few weeks. Their destitution had well-nigh 
 proved fatal when he entered their wretched abode. To win back life 
 he uttered a few words of cheer and hope, then hurried with the utmost 
 speed to the elegant homes of the elect ladies of Dr. ^Mason's church. A 
 few hours brought relief and comfort. The next Lonl's Day saw the 
 widow and her children ranged in a long row in the Sabbath-school. 
 The mother proved to be a woman of uncommon mental strength. She 
 and her family took on the best influences of this land of their adoption. 
 They were converted, educated, rose in the social scale. They themselves 
 became "succorers of many." In November, IS.jo, at a semi-annual 
 meeting of the American Female Guardian Society and Home for the 
 
 Friendless, New York, held in Palmyra, Mrs. Mc , as a delegate or 
 
 director, met her benefactor in his own church. The inteiwiew, a sur- 
 prise to both, can better be imagined than described. The Irish heart 
 shone out in the clasped hands and illumined face. 
 
 He thus speaks of his love for this Sabbath-school : — 
 
 New York, April 5, 1840. As I am about to leave town, 
 closed tliis day my connection Avith Bleeker-street Church. 
 I am much attached to the school, especially to some devoted 
 teachers and to some poor but promising children. I feel a 
 longing desire that they may grow up in the nurture and 
 admonition of the Lord. But what temptations beset them ! 
 Some are children of wicked parents. All I can now do is 
 to commend them to God. I am sensible of much negligence 
 and want of wisdom ; but I i)ray that what I have done 
 wrong may be forgiven, and what I have done right may be 
 blessed. 
 
THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY. 51 
 
 He was obliged to spend the last few weeks of the first year of his 
 course, and all of the summer vacation, in teaching school. 
 
 To his sister : — 
 
 Theological Seminary, New York, Nov. 17, 1840. 
 
 I have just returned from the Labors and perplexities of 
 school-teaching, six months in New Jersey. I am more 
 flushed with victory than enriched with the spoils of war. 
 J. W has called on me here. He is the one in our shop at 
 St. Albans, who did run well for a while in preparation for 
 the ministry, but who soon gave it up for secular business. 
 He has $5,000 a j'ear in New Orleans. I have never regretted 
 that I did not pursue my first, my favorite employment. My 
 heart dilates as I look forward to the time when I may be 
 permitted to proclaim the glorious gospel ! What light, 
 what warmth, what effulgence, beam from the cross ! 
 
 A few words relate to his struggles in defraying his expenses while in 
 the seminary : — 
 
 I paid my own way through the academy and college, save 
 $2.75 given me by a brother's wife. But the severest pinch 
 was when I entered Union Seminary. When I stepped off 
 from the boat in New York harbor I had but seven dollars. 
 The times were terrible. I could not, I would not, lose a 
 year. I kept soul and body together through the first winter 
 by rising six days in the week at three o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, passing down Broadway from Eighth to Ann Street, 
 taking one hundred copies of the "Journal of Commerce," 
 distributing them to the subscribers, and returning weary to 
 my room, with half a dollar for my labor. This was the 
 acme of the strain. Soon opportunities of teaching afforded 
 me ample means of support. 
 
 July, 1841. To-day united with the Brainerd Church in 
 Rivington Street. This church was formed by a few devoted 
 spirits for the express purpose of doing good to the masses. 
 Harlan Page and Christopher R. Robert ^ were the first two 
 elders. Mr. Page died six months after the church was 
 organized. Mr. Robert still survives to be its chief support. 
 When I was sick the last winter, Mr. Robert sent and 
 
 ''■ The founder of Robert College, Constantinople. 
 
52 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 brought me to his house, wliere I leraained till well. He 
 then most generously invited me to continue in his family 
 while pursuing my studies in the seminary. This I regard 
 one of the most marked interpositions of Providence in my 
 behalf. It brings me in contact with refined society. It 
 relieves me of expense when my means are failing. The 
 influences are softening, subduing, humanizing, to one who 
 has not resided in a family for several years. 
 To his sister : — 
 
 Theological Seminary, New York, May 2, 1841. 
 
 ... It is sometimes a wonder to me tliat I have any 
 friends, I so neglect them. But it is not because I forget 
 them or am too indolent to write them. Could I buy up the 
 time of idlers and loafers in this city, I would spend more in 
 writing, and visiting my relatives. I am now just getting 
 througli my second year in the seminary. The days pass 
 pleasantly and profitably. The subjects I am called to 
 examine are expanding to the mind, and improving to the 
 heart. I love those sacred themes that cluster around the 
 cross of Christ. I bless God that he has called me from 
 the sheepcote, sustained me tlius far, and will at length, as 
 I ho2)e, put me into the ministry. 
 
 To his mother : — 
 
 New York, Feb. 23, 1842. 
 
 . . . The time is long since I saw you ; but I hope soon 
 to greet ycm face to face. I feel some as I did when I was 
 about to return from Vermont. Then I met you at Sister 
 R.'s, and your boy had so grown 3-ou did not know him. 
 I do not suppose any mental expansion or physical change 
 will produce another such result should I be so ha})py as to 
 see you again. Next June I close an expensive and delight- 
 ful course of study. I long to proclaim the richness and 
 fullness of the remedy God has provided for a ruined world. 
 
 The more I examine the great subjects of the Bible, I must 
 confess, the more I see the consistency and truth of that 
 " form of sound words " which I have heard from my mother 
 and grandmother. My views of theology are contained in 
 that wonderful book, the "Assembly's Shorter Catechism," 
 
FIRST PASTORATE. 53 
 
 which I used to study in the chamber where you were weav- 
 ing. Perhaps you Uttle thought then that you were teaching 
 theology more effective!}^ tlian the chiefest of the doctors. 
 But so I verily believe it was. I have now no distinct inti- 
 mation of God's will in reference to my future field. I would 
 feel at all times ready to go wherever he shall see fit to send 
 me. 
 
 To his sister : — 
 
 New York, April 20, 1843. 
 
 . . . Some time ago I received a call from the Presbyterian 
 church of this city, to which I liave been preaching the past 
 year. I have thought it my duty to accept. Tlie church is 
 not large ; but they are a pious, intelligent people, and seem 
 much attached to me. I did not intend to stay in the city, 
 but, as far as I can judge, such is the will of God. . . . 
 
 I shall board in an excellent family, that of Rev. Dr. Arm- 
 strong, the secretary of the American Board of Missions.^ 
 
 ... I know you never forget me on the Sabbath Day, or 
 on week days. I sometimes feel a gale of heavenly influence 
 wafted across my soul, and I think it comes by the way of 
 the prayers of dear friends. In my late journey to New 
 England, I bless God I was permitted to visit mother once 
 
 1 Mr. Eaton greatly prized the religious privileges of this home. It was 
 Mrs. Armstrong's habit to retire to her room and spend the half-hour previ- 
 ous to every Sabbath morning's service in prayer for her young pastor. 
 
 His valued friend, Dr. Armstrong, perished in the wreck of the "Atlan- 
 tic," November, 184G. During the awful hours that preceded the final catas- 
 trophe, the passengers crowded around this venerable man. They felt safer to 
 be near him, and hung upon his lips as he read from the Scriptures, of Christ's 
 stilling the tempest, and commended himself and them to God in prayer. 
 It was to him Mrs. Sigourney alludes in Jicr beautiful poem, "The Bell of 
 the Atlantic " : — 
 
 " Toll for the man of God, 
 
 Whose hallowed voice of prayer 
 Rose calm above the stifled groan 
 
 Of that intense despair: 
 How precious were those tones, 
 
 On that sad verge of life, 
 Amid the fierce and freezing storm. 
 And the mountain billows' strife ! " 
 
54 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 more. It was a great means of grace. She is fast ripening 
 for heaven. Preached before her for the first time. She 
 wishes me to remain East, and it is my most earnest desire to 
 see her safel}' through. 
 
 He was licensed to preach the gospel by the Third Presbytery of Xew 
 York, April 8, 1842. 
 From his journal : — 
 
 Oct. 7, 1842. Upon this anniversary of my birth, it has 
 been botli profitable and painful to review the last year. 
 When I compare mj^self in all respects with the law of 
 God, when I meditate upon the holiness of that law, when 
 I think how cold my affections have been toward divine 
 things, when I call to mind the means of doing good 
 slighted, souls unwarned. Christian brethren unedified, and 
 when I realize that my sin is graduated according to my 
 light and privileges, I feel guilty and condemned. And yet 
 I am not forsaken. Christ still intercedes for me, the Spirit 
 still strives with me. Yea, I am even permitted to study his 
 holy word and to proclaim its wonderful truths. What love 
 and condescension ! 
 
 O Lord God, thou knowcst my dependence upon the 
 grace that works all holy conduct in thy children. Relying 
 upon that grace, I will endeavor the coming year to live 
 nearer to thee. That I may the better do this, I do re- 
 solve : — 
 
 1. That I will rise early in the morning, address myself 
 to prayer the first thing, and read some portion of the He- 
 brew and Greek Scriptures. 
 
 2. That I will exercise at least half an hour every morning, 
 vigorous exercise. 
 
 3. That I will have a season of prayer at noon. 
 
 4. That I will always pray immediately before and after 
 preaching. 
 
 5. That in preparing sermons I will endeavor to present 
 the truth to my own heart first, that I may be the subject of 
 the same emotions I would awaken in others. 
 
 6. That I will make the cross of Christ the centre. 
 
FIRST PASTORATE. 65 
 
 7. That I will spend some time every day, if possible, in 
 visiting the people to whom I preach. 
 
 May my labors result in the conversion of sinners and the 
 glory of God I 
 
 July 1, 1843. Continued to preach for the Second-avenue 
 Church, worshiping in a hall till 21st of June, 1843, when I 
 was ordained over the same congregation, having changed 
 its name to "The Sixth-street Presbyterian Church." A 
 unanimous call was extended to me the 16th of the previous 
 February. This I decided to accept long before my ordina- 
 tion, but thought it best to defer that service till the house, 
 which was then being erected, should fee completed. It was 
 dedicated June 18, 1843. 
 
 Sabbath, June 28. Have to-day administered the s.acra- 
 ment of the Lord's Supper for the first time. 
 
 July 16, 1845. The church to which I preach is gradually 
 increasing. I love to preach. I want more holiness. The 
 people treat me better than I deserve. God is infinitely 
 good. O that I might serve him with all my powers ! 
 
 Mr. Eaton's connection with the Sixth-street Church introduced him 
 to an exceptionally choice band of believers. Their meetings for 
 prayer and social intercourse often seemed "quite on the verge of 
 heaven." Of the youth connected with the Sabbath-school during his 
 pastorate in New York, many are now doing noble service for the world 
 as philanthropists and standard-bearers of the Lord's host. Eight of 
 them became preachers of the gospel, — Rev. Charles Baird, D.D., Prof. 
 Henry Baird, D.D., Rev. David S. Dodge, Rev. George H. Griffin, Rev. 
 Howard Kingsbury,^ Rev. Oliver Kingsbury, Rev. Lewis Reid, D.D., 
 Rev. Theodore F. White, D.D. 
 
 Hon. William E. Dodge was a member of his session. Soon after the 
 death of ]Mr. Dodge, and a short time before his own, he prepared, at 
 the request of Mrs. Dodge, a letter containing reminiscences of her 
 deceased husband. In it are facts relating to his first pastorate. Por- 
 tions of it are therefore introduced : — 
 
 Palmyra, April, 1883. 
 
 Some six months before I was to leave the Union Theo- 
 logical Seminary in New York, in the winter of 1841-42, Mr. 
 John McChain, a grave and elderlj^ gentleman, called at my 
 
 1 Pastor of Congregational Church, Amherst, Mass., deceased Sept. 28, 1878. 
 
56 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 room, and invited me to speak tlie next Sabbath morning, to 
 a few people who worshiped in Temperance Hall, near Fourth 
 Street, in the Bowery. " The audience will be small," he said, 
 "and the opportunity a good one for a young man to improve 
 his gifts and graces for more public duties." I felt the need 
 of the improvement, and accepted the invitation. I had two 
 or three sermons written with some care ; but they seemed 
 unfit for so informal an occasion, and, seizing upon the text 
 " God forbid that I should glory save in the cross," I wrote 
 what I could, and depended upon the spur of the occasion to 
 eke out the remainder. The Sabbath morning was sleety, 
 the way to Temperance Hall fiM'bidding. As I ascended 
 the platform, and looked around upon the audience, I saw I 
 was in a trap. Here and there I observed a learned professor 
 or teacher I had seen before. The entire hall was filled with 
 men of culture and standing, assembled with their families 
 to hear the word of God. The singing was led by Rev. Dr. 
 J. J. Owen, the commentator. "And these," thought I, "are 
 the few people, and this the place for a young man to improve 
 his gifts!" As I came to my first sermon, — the light was 
 bad, the writing worse, — I blundered, boggled. What could 
 I do ? I threw away my paper, struck at a few points, and 
 said "Amen." To me the service was a memorable one. 
 Could I have found some subterranean passage I would have 
 gone quickly out of sight of my audience, never to meet them 
 more. 
 
 But in the third seat, with his M'ife and children, I saw a 
 man of expressive and beautiful countenance, whose face 
 beamed with sympathy for my confusion. At the close of 
 the service he came up to me, and gave me his hand. It 
 was my first introduction to William E. Dodge. Without 
 cutting the seam of truth he spoke kindly, referred to this 
 and that point in the sermon fitted to do good. After Sab- 
 bath-school he invited me to dinner. The wise and thought- 
 ful words of Mrs. Dodge, the smiles of the children, charmed 
 away the fever of my cliagrin, and let me down into something 
 of hopefulness and rest. . . . 
 
 It was not strange that a band of laborers such as met in 
 
FIRST PASTORATE. 57 
 
 that hall should be visited with the refreshings of the Spirit. 
 Men and women were there converted, who "have stood like 
 pillars in the house of God. This revival inspired a courage 
 that led to the erection of a small but comely sanctuar}^ where 
 for^ seven years we worshiped as " The Sixth-street Presby- 
 terian Church." I well remember when Mr. Dodge headed 
 the subscription, and with true business decision brought 
 others to the test which secured sums that warranted the 
 enterprise. . . . The hive was small, but composed of work- 
 ing-bees. A number of precious ingatherings marked the 
 seven years. Mr. Dodge assured me that, in the communion 
 and worship of that little church, he partook of some of the 
 richest clusters he was ever permitted to pluck. Here his 
 younger children were baptized. Here his older sons came 
 out, and subscribed with their own hands to be the Lord's. 
 When his three eldest sons united Avith the church, I tliink 
 the two grandfathers and two grandmothers were present. 
 Whether Mr. Dodge attracted the ministers, or the ministers 
 Mr. Dodge, I will not decide. This, however, is true, that 
 the families of seven distinguished clergymen cast in their 
 lot with the Sixth-street Church. Our meetings were fre- 
 quently enriched by the presence and words of Rev. Drs. 
 Armstrong, White, Baird, Spaulding, Sawtell, and Owen, 
 bringing in sheaves from their different fields of Christian 
 work ; and, led by the munificence of Mr. Dodge, the various 
 benevolent societies were generously supported. . . . 
 
 As pastor of a country parish I should be ungrateful not 
 to mention personal favors. Did the eye of Mr. Dodge light 
 upon a book that would help me, he wrote my name in it, 
 and forwarded it. Did my health demand rest, he provided 
 means for travel and recovery. If worn down with revival 
 work, he sent me reapers, by Avhom large ingatherings were 
 secured for the garner. By more than one visit, accompanied 
 by Mrs. Dodge, he has strengthened my hands, and, by his 
 presence and eloquent words in public, given new impetus to 
 every good cause. . . . 
 
 We insert a few sentences of a letter from Mr. Dodge, in which he 
 alludes to their early acquaintance : — 
 
58 llEV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 July 1, 1880. 
 
 ... As T read to Mrs. Dodge the letter you sent me, carrying us 
 back to those old and blessed days when we first knew each other, and 
 particularly to that first sermon you preached in tliat room, corner Sec- 
 ond Street and the Bowery, wife said she had never forgotten it. She 
 was deeply interested in it. Oh, how God has led us all from those 
 small beginnings, and helped us to do something for the advancement of 
 his cause ! Soon we shall be done with the earthly work, but we will 
 keep doing so long as God gives strength. . . . 
 
 It was a source of regret to Mr. Eaton that his chirography was so 
 rapid and indistinct as often to fetter himself, and annoy his corre- 
 spondents.i Playfully to suggest an improvement, his friend, Mr. Dodge, 
 sent him an elegant gold pen. We copy his note of acknowledgment, 
 ■written by himself, in really a good, round hand : — 
 
 I appreciate the pertinence of your recent favor. Its pure 
 material is a fit emblem of the unalloyed kindness it denotes, 
 and in the nice and delicate point there is a gentle and defi- 
 nite hint as to the exact thing to be done. With the assist- 
 ance of Him " who teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers 
 to fight," I hope yet to handle the pen of a ready and legible 
 writer, and thus the patron and the preacher may rejoice 
 
 together. 
 
 Your grateful friend and brother, 
 
 H. Eaton. 
 
 He was married Aug. 18, 1845, to Anna R. Webster of Boscawen, 
 N.H. 
 
 In a letter wn-itten to his sister previous to this event he says : — 
 
 As to the young lady in question, she suits me. ... I trust 
 our dear mother and the widow of the beloved old pastor, 
 Mrs. Dr. Samuel Wood, now nearly ninety, will be able to 
 be present at our wedding. 
 
 In the tw^o following letters he refers to his sick mother, who was 
 nearing her heavenly home. Busy as he was in his first parish, he never 
 forgot or neglected her : — 
 
 1 It was a privilege for which the compiler of these pages will ever be 
 grateful, that she was permitted to be to him wliat Tertius (Kom. 1G:22) and 
 other copyists were to Paul. There were rewards that came to tlie mind and 
 heart of tlie amanuensis beside the appreciative and often-spoken word, 
 " That little right hand is worth thousands of dollars to me." 
 
FIRST PASTORATE. 59 
 
 Aug. 24, 1847. 
 
 My dear Sister Rebecca, — To me it is a sad reflection 
 that every time I bid farewell to our dear aged mother it 
 may be the last. The thing that we have greatly feared will 
 soon come upon us as a family. . . . 
 
 God loves the character renewed and sanctified by his own 
 spirit. He will appoint her death. He will allow only so 
 many days of suffering as shall be for her eternal good. An 
 everlasting rest awaits her. If we are not saved ourselves, 
 we have great reason to rejoice that a mansion is made ready 
 for our dear mother. A sweet and heavenly peace pervades 
 her mind. 
 
 Did I ever tell you of an interview with mother just before 
 I commenced to preach? It marked an era in my spiritual 
 life. It was during a summer vacation spent with her at 
 Brother Jacob's in Bristol. One day she invited me into her 
 own room, and there, in the most earnest, solemn, affectionate 
 manner, she urged upon me the desirableness, the duty, the 
 necessity, of living daily, constantly, in near, vital union and 
 communion with Jesus Christ. She warned me against seek- 
 ing mere intellectual development. She bade me beware of 
 earthly ambitions. Every word she uttered seemed to probe 
 my inmost soul. Then she knelt down by me, and prayed 
 as in my childhood, I went out of that room humbled in the 
 dust, another, and I hope a better man. 
 
 Let us often bless God that we have had such a mother. 
 Committing her into his hands, let us go on in the path of 
 obedience, as she has taught us, and hope at last to meet her 
 again in heaven. 
 
 New York, May 2, 1848. 
 
 Dear Brother L., — I have just returned from Bristol, 
 N.H. . . . The pain which mother suffers is constant, some- 
 times excruciating. Her inward peace is like a river. You 
 could not provoke a murmur. Never have I seen a person so 
 calm, bearing with such fortitude, and trusting with such 
 confidence. I was particularly struck with the clear, com- 
 prehensive views she took of God's providence and of the 
 great plan of salvation through a Redeemer. There is not 
 
GO REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 the first mark of mental weakness. Each word is of the 
 weight of a talent. Her example, spirit, and language would 
 refute every infidel. . . . 
 
 A peaceful dismission was granted to his beloved parent Sept. 21, 
 1848. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 PIRST TEN YEARS IN PALMYRA, 
 1849-1859. 
 
 SETTLEMENT. — FIRST DEATH IN HIS FAMILY. — REVIVALS. 
 INTEREST IN MISSIONS. 
 
 The location of the Sixth-street Church was unfortunate for perma- 
 nence. The foreign population began to occupy exclusively the eastern 
 part of New York, where it was situated. The whole movement was 
 up town. Early in the winter of 1849, Mr. Eaton spent an evening at 
 the house of his friend, Mr. Dodge. The cousin of his host, Rev. 
 Richard F. Cleveland ^ of Fayetteville, N.Y., chanced to be present. 
 Mr. C. spoke of a large and interesting parish in AVestern New l'"ork, 
 then without a pastor, and inquired if Mr. Eaton would go to Palmyra 
 were an invitation extended. An affirmative answer led to a correspond- 
 ence between Mr. C. and Stephen Hyde, Esq., one of the trustees of the 
 church. A call was made out, March 14, 1849. He was installed in July 
 following. Rev. S. H. Gridley, D.D., of Waterloo, N.Y^., preached the 
 sermon, and Rev. George R, H. Shumway, a former pastor, gave the 
 charge to the people. His introductory discourse was preached May 6, 
 1849, from 1 Cor. 2 : 1-5. " And I, brethren, when I came to you, came 
 not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto jon the testi- 
 mony of God. For I determined not to know any thing among you, save 
 Jesus Christ and Him crucified. And I was with you in weakness and 
 in fear and in much trembling. And my speech and my preaching was 
 not with enticing words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of the 
 Spirit and of power; that your faith should not stand in the wisdom of 
 men, but in the power of God." 
 
 The times that went over the church and the nation from 1849 to 
 1879 were perhaps as stirring and eventful as any of similar duration in 
 the past. Blended as is the history of each church with the great inter- 
 ests of education, missionary enterprise, good government, and reform, 
 to give an accurate account of Dr. Eaton's pastorate of thirty years in 
 Palmyra would require volumes. Several could easily be filled, since he 
 
 1 Father of Hon. Grover Cleveland, President-elect. 
 
02 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 has left a journal of every year, detailing in brief the occurrences of 
 each week and each Sabbath. 
 
 Upon assuming his new duties, he found that a hea\-y debt lay like a 
 pall of night upon the church. With all the enthusiasm of his nature he 
 set liimself to remove it. It is often true that when it can be said of a 
 church " they have done what they could," it quickly follows that they 
 are enabled to do what they thought they could not. Soon after the 
 liquidation of this debt, the society built a pleasant, commodious lecture- 
 room, and dispensed with the low and damp basement previously used. 
 Preceding this effort, the pastor preached a sermon upon the text, " And 
 He shall show you a large upper room furnished ; there make ready." 
 I lo put emphasis upon the word " large," but more upon the word 
 " upper." 
 
 In 1853 the angel of death for the first time visited his family. In a 
 letter of condolence written ten years after to a brother who had lost a 
 little daughter, he thus refers to this bereavement : — 
 
 Palmyra, KY., July 13, 1803. 
 
 My dear Brother and Sister, — Most vividly I real- 
 ize your feelings. Ten years ago the 11th of next Sep- 
 tember, I parted with the loveliest child I ever saw, — my 
 dear Anna, nearly two years and a half old. Her memory 
 is still fragrant, enchanting. I would not forget this most 
 l)ainful scene of my life. When agonized Avith suffering, slie 
 would look up to me with imploring confidence for help. 
 And she did not refuse to take medicine from my hand, to 
 the very last. She was twelve hours in the mortal struggle. 
 Such were her sufferings, I was thankful when her breath 
 was gone. Six times, during a sickness of eleven days, I 
 })assed through the alternations of hope and despair in 
 regard to her life. But while laying away the dear dust in 
 the grave, I experienced a sweet resignation. To look back 
 is like recovering a view of some beautiful shore that I have 
 left. I have never had a doubt that my child was with 
 Jesus. I sometimes feel that she loves me still, and lingers 
 about my way as I go on to complete my pilgrimage. The 
 chastening was good for me. It was the chastening of a 
 Katlier. 
 
 My dear brother and sister, I rejoice at the evidence you 
 have that Fannie was sealed as a lamb before taken by 
 
FIRST DEATH IN THE FAMILY. 63 
 
 the Good Shepherd. May her memory make the promises, 
 the presence of Jesus, and heaven itself more real, more 
 precious. . . . 
 
 I would not seek honors, riches, or pleasure for my chil- 
 dren ; but I would have them love and glorify God. I try 
 to give them up to Christ every day ; and I bless His holy 
 name for the evidence that my dear John has chosen the 
 good part that cannot be taken from him. A few weeks ago 
 he came out with some twenty others, and subscribed with 
 his own hands to be the Lord's. My trust for ray children 
 is in sovereign grace. 
 
 I have been thinking how many of our family are still 
 spared. Ten are left. As far as I know, but two of our 
 mother's children have passed away : an infant and Sister R. 
 And, if I count right, there are twenty-two grandchildren 
 living. It was mother's earnest prayer that her descendants 
 should be found in the covenant of grace. May God help us 
 to carr}'^ out her desire for ourselves and our families ! 
 
 Your brother in the flesh, in the faith, and in affliction, 
 
 H. Eaton. 
 
 Dr. Eaton believed in genuine revivals of religion. He saw an anal- 
 ogy between physical and spiritual husbandry. He therefore watched-, 
 worked, and waited not only for " the dew that descends upon the moun- 
 tains of Zion," but for " the small rain and the great rain of his 
 strength." He was not disappointed. Delightful were the refreshings 
 of the Spirit that often visited his congregation. In the widespread 
 revival of 1857-58, the church in Palmyra richly shared. Was the bap- 
 tism of holy fire then preparing our beloved land for the baptism of 
 blood so soon to follow? In every pure and general revival some one 
 particular Bible truth seems to be vitalized and impressed by the Holy 
 Spirit upon the hearts of the people, and this without any concert 
 among leaders in Christian work. All sermons and appeals in this 
 revival centred in the first three words of Ileb. 12:2, '■'■Looking unto 
 Jesus." 
 
 That year marked a great epoch in Dr. Eaton's religious life. He 
 seemed to attain a rest and confidence in Christ unknown before. 
 Attending the change there was an increased fear of grieving the Holy 
 Spirit, greater power in the pulpit and upon the hearts of men. 
 
 A letter written at this time to his brother reveals his new views : — 
 
64 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Palmyra, N.Y., Jan. 6, 1858. 
 
 My dear Brother J., — . . . We have received some 
 eighty to our church this year, on profession ; and the type 
 of piety seems to be that which has roots. 
 
 I think my own soul has been greatly blessed with the 
 presence of Jesus Christ. I have found joy and life and 
 strength in Ilim. I have felt that I was clothed with His 
 righteousness, and accepted in His sight. . . . 
 
 Does not Jesus say to His Father that He had loved His 
 disciples as the Father had loved himself? "To as many as 
 received Jesus, there was given power to become the sons of 
 God, even to them that believe on His name." What is it to 
 be sons of God? It is to resemble God, to be a brother with 
 Christ, to have the free spirit of love and adoption, to be an 
 heir of God, — and all this by simply receiving Christ as our 
 Teacher, Sacrifice, and Master. Some achieve greatness by 
 intense exertion ; but we receive glory, honor, and immor- 
 tality by receiving Christ. This I think the true idea of 
 faith. It is receiving Christ. That simple act puts us in 
 possession of all necessary good. This union to Jesus is the 
 condition of strength. All the trials and embarrassments of 
 life are removed or borne b}' this blessed assistance. 
 
 Christ is the key that opens all the treasures of grace, 
 strength, holiness, jo)\ All things are ours if Christ is ours. 
 Dear brother, cast all your care upon Jesus, for He careth 
 for you. 
 
 In coming to Palmyra, Mr. Eaton was both surprised and gratified at 
 the interest taken by his church in the cause of foreign missions. This 
 was due, in part, to the fact that one of its clierished and devoted mem- 
 bers, ]\Iis.s ]\Iartha Lovell, had recently assumed the charge of tlie Young 
 Ladies' Seminary at Constantinople. On INIiss Lovell's marriage to Rev. 
 Dr. Cyrus Ilamlin, she naturally looked to her native town for her suc- 
 cessor in the school. The lot fell on Miss Maria A. West, who sailed 
 from Boston, January, 1853. A meeting of great interest was held on the 
 Sabbath evening previous to her leaving Palmyra. The youthful laborer 
 felt encouraged and sustained by the farewell words of her pastor. 
 Abating brief intervals occasioned by ill health, ISliss West has resided 
 in the East ever since. Iler work there has been self-sacrificing and full 
 
REVIVALS. ^ 65 
 
 of toil, but most effective and successful. Multitudes of Syrian women 
 and Syrian homes even now arise and call her blessed. 
 
 It was a source of gratitude to the subject of this memorial, that his 
 church had sent out three foreign missionaries, beside many faithful 
 home missionaries. We have seldom seen him more pleased than when 
 he ascertained the fact that a native of Palmyra, an esteemed friend, had 
 had a most important agency in the establishment of the Micronesian 
 mission. He gives us the narrative of the two instrumentalities which 
 in so wonderful a manner brought about this result : — 
 
 In 1809, an olive-colored boy ^ was found sitting, weeping, 
 on the steps of Yale College. The good people befriended 
 him. He was converted, educated. He was eager to carry 
 the good news of salvation to his native islands. Just as he 
 was ready to sail, an acute disease laid him in the grave. 
 
 But the fire he had kindled did not go out. In October, 1819, 
 Hiram Bingham and five others embarked from Long Wharf, 
 Boston, as missionaries to the Sandwich Islands. March 31, 
 1820, they caught, by moonlight, the first glimpse of Hawaii. 
 The inhabitants had just cast away their idols. They wel- 
 comed the missionaries. Their language was reduced to 
 writing. The Bible was printed. Revival succeeded revival 
 till the islands came under the power of the gospel and the 
 Sabbath. From 1838 to 1843, twenty-seven thousand were 
 admitted to the churches. 
 
 As the years passed on, the converts of the Sandwich 
 Islands longed to send the gospel, which had so blessed them, 
 to the destitute "regions beyond." They felt the same inter- 
 est for the Micronesian Islands that New England Christians 
 had for them thirty years before. But as yet no organiza- 
 tion had been formed, no particular direction given to their 
 
 zeal. 
 
 And here comes in another link of the great chain of God's 
 providence. Ira Lakey, son of Mr. Abner Lakey of Palmyra, 
 had learned the watch and clock making business ; but the 
 way seemed obstructed. Good offers induced him to enter 
 the whaling service at New Bedford. He first went out as a 
 sailor ; was soon promoted, and took command of the bark 
 
 1 Henry Obookiah. 
 
66 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 "Harvest." I give you here what he told me himself. The 
 owners of the ship were generous to him, and lie felt his 
 responsibility to bring them a good return. He sped to the 
 southern Pacific. On the coast of Kusaie, or Strong's Island, 
 one of the Carolines, he was stranded on a coral reef, and a 
 huge rent made in his vessel. Captain Lakey's hopes were 
 dashed ; but he did not give up the ship. He had no tools 
 with which to make repairs, but sucli as his own ingenuity 
 could invent. Fortunately, one of the crew could speak the 
 language of the people. The king Avas at the time danger- 
 ously sick. The countenance and bearing of Captain Lakey 
 would have inspired the respect and confidence of civilized 
 sovereigns. As it was, this Pagan chief gladly accepted his 
 offer to prescribe for him. Captain Lakey watched and 
 studied the king's case with the utmost attention. He recov- 
 ered. Nothing could exceed his gratitude and that of his 
 subjects. They brought to the seamen, day by day, fish, 
 pigeons, bananas, the fruit of the pandanus-tree, and the 
 cocoanut-palm. Captain Lakey rigged a home-made jack, 
 and with ropes and pulleys, and the help of one hundred or 
 more of the natives, whom he hired of the king, he pulled 
 the vessel upon its side. He himself made the plank. The 
 island afforded fine timber. He took the copper from the 
 upper part of the ship, where it was not so much needed, and 
 covered the bottom. In like manner he repaired the other 
 side of the vesseL All this took some three months. "Good 
 King George " and Captain Lakey had many conversations 
 with each other. A great friendshi[) sprung up between the 
 captain and the king's little son, a bright boy four or five 
 years old. The king was most desirous to learn about the 
 United States, and the reasons why the people there were so 
 much better off than in his own country. He insisted that 
 Captain Lakey read and preach from the Bible to them 
 every Sabbath day. In relating this, the cai)tain said, "I 
 couldn't do it as well as you, parson, but I did as well as 
 I could." The wild and unclad savages listened with the 
 utmost attention; and, when Captain Lakey left. Kusaie, the 
 king obtained a promise from him that he would do his 
 
MISSIONS. — BENE VOLENCE. 67 
 
 Utmost to send them missionary teachers. For this purpose 
 he sailed two thousand miles out of his way to interview 
 Rev. S. C. Damon, D.D., seaman's chaplain at Honolulu, 
 Sandwich Islands, with whom he was well acquainted. To 
 him he preseuted their appeal. Wonderful to tell, it came 
 at just the right time. It exactly met the awakened interest 
 of the Sandwich Island Christians. 
 
 They at once organized a missionary society. In 1852 
 three missionaries, with their wives and two Hawaiian teach- 
 ers, went out to Kusaie. Finding that they needed " a small 
 ship to wait upon " them as they cruised among the islands, 
 they wrote to the rooms of the Board at Boston. A respon- 
 sive thrill went through the Sabbath-schools of the land ; 
 and the first " Morning Star," ^ a brigantine, costing ti)18,351, 
 was launched November, 1856. 
 
 Twenty years after Captain Lakey's shipwreck, lie visited 
 again his old landing-place. But how changed ! The former 
 king was dead. The young prince, a Christian ruler, remem- 
 bered him. Under his lead and that of the missionaries, the 
 people, now neatl}^ dressed, assembled on tlie shore in an 
 orderly manner, and formally greeted their benefactor by 
 singing sweet songs and hymns of praise to God. The New 
 Testament and Christian books had been introduced; the 
 Sabbath was observed ; and the voice of jjrayer went up from 
 their families and their churches. 
 
 Baptized as was Mr. Eaton at his conversion in the spirit of missions, 
 the flame on the altar never burned low. He aimed to make the monthly- 
 concert the most interesting evening meeting of the month. Nor was 
 the collection forgotten. Just before it was taken, we have heard him 
 repeat this passage, " Is not the gleaning of the grapes of Ephraim better 
 
 1 The fourth Morning Star, a steamer, Captain Bray, sailed from Boston 
 at eleven o'clock on Wednesday, Nov. 5, 1884. A party of about forty friends, 
 mainly from tlie Congregational House, accompanied her down the harbor; a 
 brief prayer was offered, and tlie Missionary Plymn sung. It was an impres- 
 sive scene, as the wind filled her white sails and she went out to sea to the 
 music of 
 
 " Waft, waft, ye winds, His story," 
 
 followed by cheers and the waving of handkerchiefs. — The Conjregationalist. 
 
68 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 than the vintage of "Abiezer ? " He loved alike both departments of the 
 missionary work, — the home and the foreign. 
 
 "\^'e subjoin extracts from three sermons on the moral condition of the 
 heathen, and our duty to them : — 
 
 Acts 17: 26,27. "And hath made of one blood all 
 nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth. . . . 
 That they should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel 
 after Him . . . though He be not far from every one of us." 
 
 . . . From the doctrines thus illustrated it is legitimate to 
 draw one or two inferences. 
 
 If all men are derived from one blood, and owe alle- 
 giance to one and the same Jehovah, then their moral nature 
 and necessities are the same. They have a common discern- 
 ment to see the great hand of God in His works and in His 
 providence, a common conscience to feel obligation, common 
 affections, and will to love and serve Him. Without these 
 moi'ul elements, they cannot belong to the human family. 
 
 Perhaps you have sometimes been conscious of a kind of 
 dubiosity in your own mind as to the moral condition and 
 destiny of the heathen. Perhaps the feeling has stolen over 
 you that the Hottentot, Caffre, Esquimau, are not equally 
 human with yourself, not subject to the same probation ; 
 are not to meet with 3'ou on the same basis at the judg- 
 ment, and, according to their character and conduct, "to 
 receive the frown or the welcome of the final Judge." Has 
 not this subtle error insinuated itself into tiie feelings, 
 though it may not be acknowledged in the understanding ? 
 
 What, then, is the moral condition of the heathen? Scep- 
 tical minds have taken, at different times, directly opposite 
 views iu regard to their religious prospects. At one time 
 they have extolled human nature, human reason, the unaided 
 sentiments and conceptions of the soul, to such a degree as to 
 make missionary work, or even revelation, unnecessary. By 
 the pale star of Nature man can guide his bark across the sea 
 of life, and safely enter the haven of immortality. . . . By such 
 reasoning and declamation, a large jiortion of the world free 
 themselves of any obligation to send them the gospel. 
 "The heathen," say they, "know enough already by the 
 
MISSIONS. — BENE VOLENCE. 69 
 
 teachings of reacon and conscience, and the light of 
 Nature." 
 
 But bring these exalters of human wisdom to the kraal, 
 the habitations of filth, cruelty, infanticide, all the kinds of 
 crime and loathsome degradation which everywhere prevail 
 in heathendom, and in sight of the moral pestilence press 
 upon them the eternal prospects of the Pagan world, — surely, 
 if the light of reason is so great as to supersede divine reve- 
 lation, then these nations are without excuse for perverting 
 such light, for " changing the glory of the incorruptible God 
 into images made like unto corruptible man and four-footed 
 beasts and creeping things." Their light renders them ter- 
 ribly to blame for their impiety toward God, and cruelty to 
 man. By as much as their knowledge of duty outruns their 
 character and conduct, by so much " they have loved dark- 
 ness ratlier than light, because their deeds were evil." 
 According to the sceptic's own showing, they are brought 
 in guilty before God. 
 
 But just here it is not uncommon for unbelievers in di- 
 vine revelation to fasten on the other horn of the dilemma. 
 They deny that any light shines upon the heathen mind; 
 they are too imbruted and debased to be more accountable 
 than the wild beasts of the field. Here, again, they get quit 
 of any obligation to send them the gospel of Christ. In one 
 case, they have all the light necessary : in the other, they 
 have not light enough to make them responsible or bring 
 them under condemnation. 
 
 Now, just between these two extremes, the word of God 
 shows tiie heathen world both needy and guilty. It is 
 alike the sentiment of the Bible and of common sense, that 
 according to a knowledge of duty so is the guilt of disobedi- 
 ence. " He who knew his Lord's will and did it not was 
 beaten with many stripes ; but he that knew not, and did 
 commit things worthy of stripes, shall be beaten with few 
 stripes." Should Gabriel refuse obedience amidst the efful- 
 gence of heaven, he would fall correspondingly low in 
 deserved ruin. 
 
 Does a human soul of exalted privileges cast off fear, and 
 restrain prayer, Christ's word to him is, — 
 
70 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 " Woe unto thee, Chorazin ! woe unto thee, Bethsaida ! It 
 shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the day of 
 judgment than for 3^011." 
 
 Does the child of poverty and crime in onr cities violate 
 his moral ideas, his conceptions of God, justice, and duty, 
 wliich, if he would follow, would bring him to the house of 
 God, to Christ, and to heaven, he is brought in guilty before 
 God. Step from the most degraded soul in Christian lands 
 to the most enlightened Pagan mind. There, too, you will 
 find moral ideas, convictions of duty to God, and justice to 
 man. If he choose vsensual indulgence, if he turn from the 
 light, if he do not retain God in his knowledge, he also falls 
 under a corresponding condemnation. 
 
 So 3-0U may descend by successive steps to the lowest 
 depths of human degradation, and even there you will find a 
 mind, a conscience, a heart, which will meet rays of divine 
 light as it looks out upon the creation and providence of 
 God. These, if cherished by a sincere and pure desire to 
 know and do the will of God, will lead the soul to holiness 
 and heaven. But if, from a perverse will, he prefer to enjoy 
 the pleasures of sin, he also falls under condemnation pro- 
 portionate to the light he despises. 
 
 It is thus we see the Bible presents a principle of justice 
 and retribution that brings " the whole world guilty before 
 God." Paul has made this point clear in the first of 
 Romans. Speaking directly of the heathen world, he says, 
 "The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all 
 ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who hold the truth 
 in unrighteousness. Because that which may be known of 
 God is manifest in them, for God hath showed it unto them. 
 For the invisible things of Ilim from the creation of the 
 world are clearly seen, being understood l)y the things that 
 are made, even his eternal power and Godhead, so that they 
 are without excuse." 
 
 This reasoniug of the apostle is vindicated by the testi- 
 mony of our missionaries. When they call the darkest mind 
 to look into liis own conscit)usness, into the providence and 
 works of the Creator, into the sea and lightning and seasons, 
 
MISSIONS. — BENE VOLENCE. 71 
 
 they never fail to elicit a response in ideas of God and 
 accountability to Him. With significance of voice and ges- 
 ture, the veteran Dr. Lindley, for thirty years a missionary 
 in South Africa, said to me, "Every word that Paul 
 uttered in the first chapter of Romans in regard to the hea- 
 then is true now. The heathen know better. When they 
 thieve and lie, and sell their children for oxen, they are 
 conscious of wrong doing; they feel guilty. The trouble 
 with them is, 'they do 7iot like to retain God in their 
 knowledge.' "... 
 
 It is evident, then, that the heathen are of the same family 
 as ourselves. They are under the same law, launched upon 
 the same probation, condemned by the same principles. All 
 of us have light enough to make us accountable, and to bind 
 us over to the same judgment-seat. 
 
 We come, then, to this scriptural, incontrovertible position. 
 The heathen are neither angels nor apes, but m'en, sinners of 
 one blood with ourselves, of the same tainted blood, poisoned 
 by the tooth of the old serpent, our moral relish depraved. 
 
 " What a fall was there, my brethren, 
 When you and I and all of us fell down 1 " 
 
 I take by the hand the wildest son of the forest, with black 
 hair and eyes, and high clieek-bones. He is my brother, the 
 son of my mother Eve. We are alike diseased. We are 
 fellow-sufferers. There is the same quarrel between his 
 passions and conscience as between mine. We are fellow- 
 criminals. We have broken the same law, offended the same 
 Creator and Judge, and are doomed to the same tribunal. 
 We might add to our company the Hindoo, the Chinaman, 
 the Tartar, every race and individual of the heathen world, 
 and there will be found the same fellowship of origin, suffer- 
 ing, and condemnation. " We have all gone out of the way." 
 The dark and awful truth in regard to man is his miiversal 
 guilt. " Every mouth shall be stopped, and the whole world 
 become guilty before God." This is the great fact that 
 Christ looked in the face. This is the great fact His church 
 must look in the face. 
 
72 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 John 3 : IG. " For God so loved the woild, tliat He gave 
 His only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him 
 shonld not perish, bnt have everlasting life." . . . This text 
 first gives the gauge and depth of God's love to sinful man. 
 
 We have also the expression and exponent of God's regard 
 for justice and law. . . . 
 
 The text also discloses the measure of the sinner's peril, 
 the depth and danger of human ruin. . . . 
 
 But mark, my brethren, the terms of the text. " God so 
 loved the world," — not the Jew, not the Greek, not the 
 bond, not the free, not the rich man, not the beggar at his 
 gate, not the elect or the non-elect, not the dweller on this 
 or that mountain or river or ocean, but the world, — men 
 of every cast, locality, condition. " God so loved the world, 
 that He gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth 
 in Him should not perish." Be he sage or savage, Fejee or 
 Greenlander, every tribe and individual of the human family 
 are covered by the provisions of the atoneuient. Who will 
 say there is a nation, clan, or inhabitant of earth for whom 
 Christ hath not tasted death? Is there one to whom the 
 "whosoever '' does not refer? 
 
 The heathen, then, are embraced in the provisions of 
 Christ's death. Nearly four-fifths of the descendants of 
 Adam are to-day worshipers of the gods that can neither 
 hear nor save. Is there one of these tribes, one individual, 
 not included in "the world" of mankind for which Christ 
 died? Again, if to purchase pardon and sanctification for the 
 heathen, God has given up his only-begotten Son, then the 
 heathen were in perishing need of pardon and sanctification. 
 But, if tlie lieathen are not condemned sinners with the rest 
 of the world, they have no part in the atonement, they have 
 no need of the blessings it procures. The whole world does 
 not lie in wickedness. The command, " Go ye into all the 
 world, and ])reach the gospel to every creature," is a mistake. 
 The labors and sacrifices of the apostles in preaching the 
 gospel to the lieathen were a mistake. If they were not 
 sinners in common with the rest of the world, then the call 
 on all men everywhere to repent was a mistake. How can 
 
MISSIONS. — BENE VOLENCE. 73 
 
 the heathen repent if they are not sinners? Paul also 
 made a mistake in writing to the converts from heathenism 
 at Ephesus : " And you hatli He quickened who were dead 
 in trespasses and sins. Wherein in time past ye walked 
 according to the course of this world, according to the prince 
 of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the 
 children of disobedience. Among whom also, we all," Jews 
 and heathen, " had our conversation in time past, in the lusts 
 of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the 
 mind; and were by nature the children of wrath, even as 
 others. Remember that ye, being in time past," heathen, 
 "Gentiles in the flesh, that at that time ye were without 
 Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and 
 strangers from the covenants of promise." 
 
 If the heathen were not sinners, the prophets were mis- 
 taken when they predicted that Christ should be " a light of 
 the Gentiles, that He might be for salvation to the ends 
 of the earth." Nor would our Pagan ancestors and their 
 Druid priests have been guilty while immolating human 
 victims upon their altars. If they had no need of the gospel, 
 by what means could they pass from a heathen to a Christian 
 nation? How is it that so many hundreds of thousands in 
 the primitive times, and in the last fifty years of modern 
 missions, have accepted the messages of a crucified Saviour, 
 — have repented and believed and rejoiced in the hope of 
 everlasting life ? Were they not mistaken in thinking them- 
 selves blameworthy in repenting, and in feeling their need 
 of Christ? If the heathen are not sinners with the rest of 
 mankind, it is most evident they can neither be saved by 
 grace nor condemned by justice. How will they be disposed 
 of? — as mere animals, or as spotless angels? What, then, 
 mean the words of Peter, " Neither is there salvation in any 
 other, for there is none other name under heaven, given 
 among men, whereby we must be saved " ? . . . 
 
 Rom. 10 : 11-15. . . . According to the reasoning of Paul, 
 we have " proved both Jews and Gentiles, that they are all 
 
74 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 under sin " ; that lieathen and Christians are all from one 
 degenerate root ; tliat all have misimproved liglit in different 
 degrees, and are consequently found guilt}^ according to the 
 clearness of the duty they have disregarded. From another 
 standpoint the same conclusions have been reached. The 
 fact tliat God so loved the whole world as to give His only- 
 begotten Son to die for all shows that all have gone out of 
 the way, and are in perishing need of the benefits of His 
 death. The sin of the heathen, though not as deep, is as 
 real, as that of the gospel sinner. If one has violated twelve 
 degrees of light and the other but one, it is still true that 
 "all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God." 
 
 While some of my hearers did not deny the truth of the 
 position, they were led to ask two pertinent questions : — 
 
 1st, Grant that the heathen have light enough to make 
 them sinners. Have they light enough to find their upward 
 way to pardon and eternal life ? Do the best they can, must 
 the heathen perish ? 
 
 My own reflections have brought me to the conviction 
 that the heathen, though shut up to faith, are not shut up 
 to death. I am encouraged to think that beside the light 
 shining from God's works and providence, and the inward 
 convictions of conscience, there is also an influence from the 
 atonement ready to clear and intensify this natural light, 
 ready to guide the truly sincere and inquiring heathen, if 
 such there be, in his struggles for pardon and peace : " The 
 grace of God, tvhich hath appeared unto all rnew, teaching 
 us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should 
 live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world." 
 The same sentiment is expressed in John, referring to Christ 
 as "the light that lighteth every man that cometh into 
 the world." If the heathen share the depraving influence 
 of Adam's sin without knowing the facts of his fall, I do not 
 see why they may not share something of the elevating influ- 
 ence of Christ's death without being made acquainted with 
 the facts of His life and crucifixion. It is evident that the 
 heathen are not in the same hopeless case in which they 
 would have been had not Christ died. The Sun of righteous- 
 
MISSIONS. — BENE VOLENCE. 75 
 
 ness may cast a faint twilight upon regions over which He 
 has not risen in liis full-orbed glory. Christ is the light of 
 the world. The heathen as well as other men are under 
 obligation to have an honest and teachable spirit, eager to 
 receive and yield to the truth. May we not admit that a 
 heathen may so see God in the heavens, hear Him in the 
 thunder, and so apprehend Him in all the changes of His 
 providence as to be convinced of his own dependence and 
 his sin? and may not the Holy Spirit, sent forth and purchased 
 by the cross of Christ, so sanctify this light of nature that 
 he shall recoil from impurity, cleave to virtue, and rest upon 
 the mercy of a Redeemer whom he never knew? If with a 
 penitent, trusting spirit he wait upon the taper light of 
 nature, ready to take an advanced step in the way of obedi- 
 ence, is not this the substance of a faith that would embrace 
 a Redeemer as soon as made known ? It would seem from 
 the testimony of our missionaries, that they have found a few 
 minds in this attitude, following the light they had, and ever 
 willing to obey new convictions of duty. 
 
 If these remarks are just, then the heathen are only under 
 obligation sincerely to receive the light and truth that is 
 revealed to them in the book of nature, directed and enforced 
 by an unseen cross. This view does not imply that any one 
 is ever saved but through the influence and merits of the 
 atonement, though, like the experience of many before Christ 
 came, the facts and nature of that atonement may not have 
 been comprehended. 
 
 The second question is suggested by the answer I have 
 given to the first. If the heathen can possibly be saved by 
 the light they now have, rising out of all their degradation 
 and filth, and scaling the walls of their prison, what is the 
 need of sending them missionaries to teach them the way of 
 life more perfectly? 
 
 The very inquiry reveals its own absurdity. If the dim 
 candle may possibly avail to guide the traveler across the 
 terrible gulf and save his life, how much more the starlit 
 firmament, how much more the full moon, the opening gates 
 of day, and the meridian sun ! Men were saved in the patri- 
 
76 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 arclial, in the Mosaic dispensation ; but how longed and 
 looked-for the natal morn when angels shouted, " Glory to 
 God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward 
 men " ! 
 
 Apply the same reasoning to other interests. Because the 
 lieathen can build a hut in the earth, plow with a stick, trav- 
 erse the ocean in a rude canoe, or find all their remedies in 
 roots, shall Ave withhold from them our advanced knowledge 
 of architecture, agriculture, navigation, and medicine? 
 
 Thus, though they are not shut up to death by the dispen- 
 sation of Heaven, yet they have practically shut themselves 
 up to death by choosing darkness rather than light, and 
 going down to the depths of sensuality, and alienation from 
 God. They are condemned by the same law that condemns 
 the rest of the human family, and they are hastening to the 
 same judgment with ourselves. Now, over against this uni- 
 versal ruin is set a universal remedy. On the one side is 
 presented a universal demand, and on the other a universal 
 supply. And the injunction of Christ joins with every 
 impulse of humanity and Christianity, requiring us to engage 
 all our powers to bring this demand and supply together. 
 
 In rescuing the perishing heathen, the divine order is 
 given in the text: " How, then, shall they call on Him in 
 whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe 
 in Him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they 
 hear without a preacher ? And how shall they preach except 
 they be sent? As it is written. How beautiful are the feet 
 of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad 
 tidinsfs of cfood things ! " 
 
 Salvation can come only by individual believing on Jesus 
 Christ. In order to believe on Him, the heathen must hear 
 of Him. To hear of Him, preachers must go from gospel 
 lands. For this the church must educate, send forth, and 
 sustain the heralds of the cross. 
 
 Christ, whose death has procured salvation for all men, 
 has thrown the work of making Him known upon the church 
 which is His body. His only visible representative on earth. 
 The church are to obey His last command, " Go ye into all 
 
MISSIONS. — BENE VOLENCE. 7 7 
 
 the world, and preach the gospel to every creature." Salva- 
 tion must come out of Zion. The prayers, alms, sacriiices 
 of Christ's disciples, must send the gospel among tlie nations. 
 The instrumentality of the church must roll back the dark- 
 ness of ages, demolish every heathen altar, cast down every 
 idol, sheathe every sword, break every yoke, dry up every 
 fountain of iniquity, plant the standard of the cross in every 
 vale and along every hillside. 
 
 To this work we should address ourselves gratefullj^ hope- 
 fully, joyfully. . . . 
 
 The Eye of Christ upon the Contribution-box. Mark 
 12 : 41. " And Jesus sat over against the treasury and 
 beheld how the people cast money into the treasury." 
 
 . . . With His eye on the contribution-box, Jesus com- 
 pares the offerings of His people with the wants of the 
 world. . . . 
 
 The searching eye of Jesus on the contribution-box com- 
 pares our yearly tribute with our professions. . . . 
 
 He who now watches the contribution-box will at last say, 
 " Give an account of thy stewardship." Let not the fact 
 that we are tenants at will grow dull upon our hearts. A 
 steward does Jiot own the property in his hands. He is not 
 to distribute or dispose of it at pleasure. If an agent use it 
 for his own gratification, if he withhold from the channel 
 directed by his master, the law of trust and stewardship is 
 violated. Did that clerk of yours take the avails of your 
 capital for himself, what is it but purloining your substance ? 
 Suppose you give your tenant command to feed from your 
 granary certain poor families among your neighbors, but, 
 instead, he appropriates your wheat and provisions to his 
 own advantage. The injustice would be apparent, flagrant. 
 
 But each one is a steward of the Great Landholder. All 
 you have belongs to Him. Are you endowed with intellect- 
 ual ability ? " God giveth wisdom, and the inspiration of the 
 Almighty understanding." Have you riches laid up ? " The 
 silver is mine and the gold is mine, saith the Lord of hosts." 
 
78 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Huve you a deed of these broad acres? God has enriched 
 these fields, and '"let them out to husbandmen, and at His 
 coming He will demand His own with usury." It is plain 
 that we are to resrard the owner's will. 
 
 O 
 
 But redemption is the great work, the great enterprise, of 
 His throne. To this is subordinated every other interest in 
 His universe. For this heaven has been emptied of its treas- 
 ures. Angels are sent forth as ministering spirits. All the 
 changes and revenue of God's vast domain subserve His grace 
 and glory in the salvation of men. We, also, have an 
 agency. Bibles must be multiplied, ministers must be edu- 
 cated and sent forth, the gospel preached to every crea- 
 ture. To furnish the means, God has appointed an income 
 tax. . . . 
 
 But you say, " I am bound to provide for my household, 
 their bodily comfort, mental cultivation, religious improve- 
 ment, and future usefulness." In all this you are obeying 
 God as a faithful steward. But does this prove you are 
 allowed to retain and hoard your Lord's money for yourself 
 and family when His cause is bleeding for help? 
 
 Another says, "I have lost the last year." "Well, my 
 brother, there is a sliding scale in this business, — " accord- 
 ing as the Lord hath jjrospered." If you have lost, you are 
 but an agent, and the JNIaster is able to lose it. We are to 
 occupy only what remains, and pay the drafts that He may 
 send in. 
 
 But you cheerfully admit that you are but a steward. 
 " Show me the figures, and I will face tliem." The demand 
 on the Jewish Church was at least one-fifth of their income ; 
 one dollar in five, two in ten, ten in fifty, twenty in a 
 hundred, two hundred every thousand. But since Christ 
 has come, and the world is thrown open, and the command 
 is "Go preach," God has left the amount to be determined 
 by every individual conscience. Prayer, the general teach- 
 ings of the Bible, Providence, w^ill enable every unbiased 
 mind to strike the balance between the wants of a family 
 and the wants of a perishing world. A sense of the Great 
 Taskmaster's eye is necessary to prevent covetousness from 
 perverting our gifts. 
 
MISSIONS. — BENE VOLENCE. 79 
 
 But another principle Jesus applies as we pass in our 
 yearly offerings, — " Whatsoever ye would that men should 
 do to you, do ye even so to them." Were we sunk in 
 heathenism, for what ought we to look from those raised to 
 affluence, refinement, civilization, and eternal life by the 
 gospel? Exchange our Bibles for the Shasters of India, the 
 Sabbath services for the orgies of Juggernaut, our hopes 
 through Christ for the dark unknown that stretches out 
 before the heathen mind, — in short, change places with 
 idolaters, and what might we expect of those more favored ? 
 
 Were one of our steamers, in traversing the solitary deep, 
 to fall in with a hundred men in the last stages of starvation, 
 what" would this law require of them? Why, at once to 
 part with their luxuries that they might feed their starving 
 brethren ; yes, even to share their necessary provisions, 
 before they suffered them to die of famine. Let the same 
 principle be carried out toward those perishing for the 
 bread of life I . . . 
 
 Jesus looks upon the contribution-box in the light of His 
 own sacrifices. As He thinks of Gethsemane and Calvary, is 
 there not in that eye of compassion a beam of melting, sub- 
 duing eloquence, saying, "Freely ye have received, freely 
 give"? . . . 
 
 The setting apart a definite percentage of one's income for 
 the good of others, as the Lord hath prospered, is a means of 
 extracting, killing selfishness, that tap-root of all sin. 
 
 Parchment long wound closely around a small centre is 
 persistent in coiling together. You take this tendency out, 
 not simply by uncoiling, but by rolling the other way. I 
 knew a man in New England, who by blood and nurture was 
 so held by these strictures, that, when the grace of God 
 began to expand his soul, you could almost hear the cords 
 snap. He said that, when he found the love of money get- 
 ting the mastery, he used the great gospel club, visiting 
 blow after blow, at the rate of |500 a gift. Thus he became 
 one of the most active, benevolent, and prosperous of men. 
 A farmer in Henniker, N.H., consecrated an orchard to the 
 
80 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 cause of missions. The very fact that he had thus devoted 
 it to the Lord led him to pray for good fruit, to graft and 
 and feed his trees. And it was wonderful how many hun- 
 dreds of dollars went into the treasury of the Lord from that 
 orchard. Tlie prayer aud care Avhich made his trees so fruit- 
 ful nourished in him the spirit of benevolence, that sanctified 
 all his other labors and possessions. 
 
 Giving as the Lord liath prospered will bring us off from 
 all tendencij to over-reaching and dishonesty. The spirit that 
 labors and gives for others will not fleece them of their just 
 dues. By cherishing a generous spirit toward all men, we 
 shall be led to do justly toward all men. Have we wronged 
 any one? Repentance will flow from the true giving spirit. 
 But perhaps the man whom we have wronged has gone 
 before us to eternity. If what we unjustly possess cannot 
 be returned to the injured man or family, we can make it 
 over to the Great Proprietor. Zaccheus had ])een exacting 
 and rapacious. When Jesus entered his heart and his home, 
 he made restitution to those who had gone beyond his reach, 
 by giving at once half of his goods to feed the poor. And 
 then, if there were any living with whom he had dealt 
 unfairly, he restored to them fourfold. In this there was no 
 compromise with evil, no buying indulgences, but an entire 
 renunciation of all avarice and over-reaching. . . . 
 
 If we work, plan, and save for the cause of God as well as 
 for ourselves, then the Lord goes with us as our senior part- 
 ner in the firm. His presence Avill restrain us from every 
 tliing false, selfish, grasping, and enable us to break with all 
 questionable schemes, and refuse all dishonest gains. What 
 we give will be a blessing to others. What we retain will be 
 frauo-ht with God's blessing on ourselves. We shall stand 
 better for both worlds. 
 
 Conscientious giving is a practice which begets a cheerful 
 and happy spirit. "Charity is twice blessed." The poor 
 may do Avithout our gifts, aud be liappy ; but we cannot do 
 without the discipline of giving, and be happy. We mis- 
 take when we think happiness springs from tlie accretive 
 and selfish affection. "It is more blessed to give than to 
 receive." . . . 
 
MISSIONS. — BENE VOLENCE. 81 
 
 The law of happiness is self-forgetfulness. Continual 
 thinking about self — what we want, what we like, what 
 respect other people ought to pay to us, what other people 
 think of us — is the very way to make ourselves miserable. It 
 will turn into a means of unrest every blessing God sends 
 us. By giving alms as we are able we enter into the very 
 sympathy, heart, and/o^ of our Lord, 
 
 From Report on Systematic Beneficence, presented at Lyons Presby- 
 tery, April, 1882. 
 
 . . . AVhat specimens of giving among the early churches 
 of Christ ! True consecration reaches to the pocket. Purse- 
 strings and heart-strings intwine and loosen together. If it 
 may be said of the renewed soul, "Behold he prayeth,'' not 
 less, "behold he giveth:' If the one must be sincere, the 
 other must be free. He who professes love to Jesus, and 
 yet says of his money, " Hands off," is acting over the expe- 
 rience of Ananias and Sapphira. His heart is not right. He 
 who would have a heart-stock in heaven must hold his bank- 
 stocks subject to the drafts of Christ. He that says, '' My 
 son, give me thine heart," says also, "Bring all the tithes 
 into the storehouse." 
 
 In this principle of discipleship is found the only financial 
 basis for gospel-work. With the command, " Go ye into all 
 the world," there was no revenue from vested funds, rents, 
 or taxation. Gospel finance is not from compulsion, the lash 
 of coercion, but from the law of love to Christ. Giving is 
 one of the graces inwrought by the Spirit. . . . Giving 
 should be systematic and from principle. Impulse is a 
 shaving fire. The door of the heart, creaking on rusty 
 hinges, may open to a sudden and eloquent appeal, only to 
 be bolted the closer Avhen the spasm is over. Zigzag, hap- 
 hazard giving begets no habit, confers no strength. . . . God 
 gives from J^rinciple. Ilis daily and yearly mercies come 
 around in their season. 
 
 The demand for our charities is constant. System is the 
 very soul of the divine recipe given by Paul : " Now, con- 
 
82 REV. lion ACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 cerning tlie collection of the saints, as I have given order to 
 the churches of Galatia, so do ye. Upon the first day of the 
 week, let every one of you lay by him in store as God hath 
 prospered him." . . . For revenue to spread the gospel, God 
 could send down, as He did manna, gold coined in the mint of 
 heaven. But that would rob His own people of the discipline 
 and blessedness of giving. . . . The frequency of this giving 
 adds to its efficiency in securing spiritual benefits to the 
 giver. Self-seeking may plead, "The longer the interval^ 
 the greater the gift. Shove by present appeals ; heap up at 
 the end of the year; leave a large bequest in your will." 
 Such men forget that they are cultivating their greed rather 
 than their benevolence. In life or death, avarice or heirs 
 will exhibit but a small showing for tlie cause of God. He 
 who Avaits to do great good will never do any. . . . 
 
 But according to this plan who are to give ? " Let evert/ 
 one of you lay by him in store as the Lord hath prospered 
 him." If the poorest brother cannot bring a lamb, let him 
 bring a turtle-dove or two young pigeons. If the poorest 
 sister cannot bring two, let her bring a single mite ; and He 
 who sits over against the treasur}', and beholds how the}' cast 
 in will smile, and command His benediction upon her. Dear 
 to Christ are the gifts of His humble i)oor. They are rich 
 in self-denial, fragrant in gratitude. Who sliall deny the 
 obscurest believer the luxury of bathing the Saviour's feet 
 with tears of thankfulness? By such giving the poor are 
 made rich, and the rich richer, and all co-operate in the 
 Master's cause. . . . 
 
 This method of giving recommended by Paul is scriptural, 
 simple, needs little machinery, makes giving a part of wor- 
 ship, trains the young to give, is frequent, and forms the 
 habit of giving. It secures the largest aggregate, and will 
 divide a support to each of the Boards. Clear, definite 
 instruction, the monthly concert, the circulation of mission- 
 ary intelligence, and fervent prayer Avill sustain and carry 
 through this inspired plan of systematic beneficence. 
 
MISSIONS. — BENE VOLENCE. 8 3 
 
 . . . As the gospel began in the self-denial of a suffering 
 Saviour, so it must be extended by a self-denying churcli. 
 The sufferings of Christ gave His cross its attraction and 
 power. So self-denial in His followers will prepare the way 
 for the gospel they would promulgate. The drill goes before 
 and opens the furrows for the seed it deposits. Sacrifice 
 softens and opens the heart to the truth it makes known. 
 From the smitten rock gushed the fountain of life. . . . 
 
 Behold, dear brethren, the secret of gospel power. The 
 magnet is Jesus suffering for me. This self-denying compas- 
 sion for others, for the lost and the perishing, is the driving 
 wheel of the gospel engine. " And He said to them all, If 
 any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take 
 up his cross daily, and follow me." 
 
 If self-sacrifice is essential to self-recovery and to extend- 
 ing this recovery to others, not less is it necessary to insure 
 the glor}^ of Christ. As the moon glorifies the sun by reflect- 
 ing its light to cheer our dark nights, so the church glorifies 
 the Saviour by reflecting His love and grace upon the dark 
 places of the earth. How can a redeemed church exalt a 
 suffering Saviour but by the same spirit of sacrifice? Is not 
 our self-denial for others the measure of our love for Clirist? 
 How can the believer stand as the disciple of a dying Saviour 
 without this " fellowship of suffering " ? The oil that con- 
 sumes gives the light. The church under the law of sacri- 
 fice, believers on the cross, at the stake, in the catacombs, 
 manifest, represent, honor, a suffering Redeemer. The bush, 
 all on fire in the desert, was to Moses a greater sight, told 
 more of Christ, of the future deliverance from Egypt, than 
 ten thousand green bay-trees spreading themselves on the 
 luxuriant plain. Martyr faith, martj^r literature, martyr 
 lives, have given the church its victories, Christ His glory, 
 and the world its salvation. ' 
 
 The Preaching of the Clouds. Eccles. 11 : 3. " If the 
 clouds be full of rain, they empty themselves upon the 
 earth." . . . Our cloud-sermon pleads against contracting 
 
84 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 rather than enlarging our contributions. . . . The verse 
 previous to our text says, " Give a portion to seven, and also 
 to eight." Murk, it does not say, " Give a portion to seven, 
 then to six, then to five," running down and so running out. 
 . . . But benevolence, self-denial for Christ, will react in 
 blessings on our own souls. When the clouds empty them- 
 selves, the earth drinketh in the blessing, and with new fra- 
 grance sends it back again to the heavens. Did the clouds 
 absorb and retain the rising vapors, and not give them back 
 in gentle rain, they would burst with their own weight. 
 Deluges would come down to devastate and destroy. These 
 avaricious clouds might be edged Avith gold, and lined with 
 silver; and yet, if they withheld their watery treasures, 
 every dying tree and plant would send up their execrations. 
 . . . The teaching of the rain-cloud, when translated, is 
 this, — we are to give freely, for we have freely received; 
 we are to give as a grateful offering to our Redeemer; we 
 are to give for the health, happiness, and salvation of our 
 fellow-men ; we are to give as an act of worship, and as 
 a means of grace to our own souls; we are to give sys- 
 tematically, from principle, and not leave the matter to 
 special and moving appeals, to temporary ability or incon- 
 venience. . . . 
 
 The following is a Report on Home Missions, presented at the last 
 meeting of Presbytery Avhich Dr. Eaton ever attended, held at Red Creek, 
 N.Y., Sept. 11, 1883, six weeks before his death : — 
 
 Esther 4 : 14. " Thou art come to the kingdom for such a 
 time as this." 
 
 " Tlicre is a tide in the affairs of men, 
 Wliicli, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune, 
 Omitted, all the voyage of their life 
 Is l)i)und in shallows and in miseries. 
 
 We must take tlie current when it serves, 
 Or lose our ventures." 
 
 Gideon and his three hundred men, David as he met Goli- 
 ath in the X'allcy of Ehdi, Ilezekiah before the army of 
 Sennacherib, were just at the moment when victory and 
 
MISSIONS. — BENE VOLENCE. 85 
 
 defeat were balancing. By providential steps, Esther, the 
 poor Jewish maiden, had ascended the Persian throne. The 
 design of this elevation was revealed in the awful responsi- 
 bility rolled upon her. Her kindred, her nation, were in 
 imminent peril. Their salvation hung upon her faith and 
 self-sacrifice. She had " come to the kingdom for such a 
 time as this." 
 
 The American church, from a condition of depression and 
 povert}^ has been led up to a queenly position of honor and 
 power, to watch, sympathize, and co-operate with her cruci- 
 fied, risen, and glorified Lord. The purpose of this elevation 
 is revealed in the exigency, the crisis, that is now upon her. 
 She has come to the kingdom at a moment when interests 
 are balancing in the scales of destiny, more weighty than 
 those ever committed to David, Jehoshaphat, or the beauti- 
 ful orphan-queen. 
 
 The church of this generation have come to the aggressive 
 missionary age, to the time of battle, the pitched battle in 
 the Valley of Decision, the great day of God Almighty, 
 when forces hostile and formidable have risen up from the 
 four corners of the earth to dispute with Christ and His peo- 
 ple the possession of this new world, especially as tliis is the 
 vantage-ground and gateway to the conquest of the whole 
 world. 
 
 An ardent missionary friend of mine from London, who 
 had been accustomed to plan and pray for the prevalence of 
 the gospel from the Orkneys to Land's End, and to feel that 
 his own island with Ireland thrown in was truly the Great 
 Britain, recently visited the Pacific, and reviewed the field of 
 our own home missionary work. On his return, his only 
 word was " Great /^^ Every thing connected with the evan- 
 gelization of the West is huge, colossal, gigantic. 
 
 If we look at the territory we must say "great." The 
 West is a world of empires. Our missionary field beyond 
 the Mississippi, leaving out Alaska, presents to the sun a 
 greater area than the twelve states of Europe, — excepting 
 Russia, — these states embracing a population of two hun- 
 dred millions. Put down France with her forty millions in 
 
86 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Texas, and 3-011 have on all sides a margin of forty miles. 
 The governor of Texas has a larger realm than the emperor 
 of the French. Yon may pass from Eastport, Me., through 
 fifty-six degrees of longitnde, to San Francisco, and you are 
 not halfway to the western border of Alaska. 
 
 We have read this statement in regard to the Union 
 Pacific Railroad : " From Chicago only to San Francisco it is 
 2300 miles long. If one end of that road be placed in imagi- 
 nation at London, and be allowed to sweep around, like the 
 hand of a clock, over the face of Europe, it would reach to 
 the east far beyond Moscow, to the south-eastward beyond 
 Constantinople into Syria, southward through Europe, 
 across the Mediterranean, far into the Desert of Sahara; 
 and, as it comes round to the Mest, it would reach two-thirds 
 the way across the Atlantic." " Such a railroad is an impos- 
 sibility in Europe : it is a necessity in the United States." 
 
 We are dazed, confounded, at the geographical extent of 
 the home missionary field of the Presbyterian Cliurch. 
 
 But the natural features of this domain are great, won- 
 derful. 
 
 Pile Ossa upon Pclion, and Olympus upon both, and you 
 have but a foot-hill to the peaks of Washington Territory 
 that rise in snowy, solitary grandeur above the approach of 
 man. Not less exciting are the gaping chasms that open 
 their deep mouths amid these awful fastnesses. The traveler, 
 glancing down from the dizzy height into the frightful gorge, 
 involuntarily shudders at the roar of the imprisoned river as 
 it echoes from the abyss. On the cliffs, hundreds of feet 
 below him, he may see the eyrie of the gray mountain-eagle, 
 and myriads of fish-hawks flying above the glittering stream. 
 Could Job have ranged among these ragged, precipitous 
 defiles, and watched the leaping cascades, what words would 
 he have left about "the hand of God cutting channels in the 
 rock" and "overturning the mountains by the roots" ! Did 
 the glens of Scotland inspire tlie Wizard of the North ; did 
 the harp of Moore vibrate to the lakes of Killarney : what 
 lyrics shall yet celebrate the canons of Colorado, tlie trees 
 and the valley of the Yosemite ! 
 
MISSIONS. — BENE VOLENCE 87 
 
 But the material resources of our home missionary field 
 are great. In the deep and glorious woods of Montana and 
 Washington Territory there are thousands of heavy and 
 valuable forests, where no axe or saw has ever uttered its 
 murderous voice ; what colunms of pine and cedar to adorn 
 future palaces, and build the shipping of the world ! 
 
 If you turn from the height and wealth of the forest, and 
 inquire at the shaft of the mine, you shall hear the jingle of 
 gold, silver, copper, nickel, platinum, iron, challenging the 
 greedy coffers of the nations. From lifting your eyes from 
 the mine, you look for the fruit of the jjIow. You will find 
 that one-half of the wheat, two-fifths of the corn, one-half of 
 the cotton, are grown west of the Father of Waters. How 
 will the granaries and elevators of the great corn cities over- 
 flow when the Red River of the north and other fat valleys 
 shall be sown with the " principal wheat," and wave with the 
 golden harvest I 
 
 But domains so wide, wonders so amazing, resources so 
 exhaustless, have stimulated, invited, and combined at the 
 West forces of evil of gigantic proportions. Deep soil sends 
 up rank thistles as well as rank wheat. The first caravans 
 to our new El Dorado were crowded with man)" of broken 
 fortunes, bankrupt chai-acter, desperate spirit. They rushed 
 from restraint at home, in the hope to gain wealth without 
 labor, to indulge in drunkenness and sensuality Avithout 
 shame. The next wave of emigrants were more thoughtful 
 and determined worshipers of the golden king. Their eye, 
 heart, hand, were steady for the glittering prize. Eternity 
 was left out of sight. The six-barreled revolver was their 
 Bible. Atheism, scepticism, every shade of religion, and 
 more of no religion, men of commercial chicanery and political 
 corruption, crowded the avenues to the western shore. In 
 addition to the evils drawn from the older States, the 150,000 
 Indians on the ground, the 150,000 Mormons, imported igno- 
 rance and vice, coming in like the waters of the flood, now 
 make up the volcanic conglomerate, fusing, and ready to 
 burst upon our home missionary field ; 750,000 emigrants the 
 last year, 370,000 the first seven months of this year ! 
 
88 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 The fountains of tlie great deep in Europe have been 
 broken up, and surges like the waters of the flood are pouring 
 in to fill the vacuum of our unoccupied territory. Stand in 
 the North-western depot at Chicago, or any other sluiceway 
 of foreign immigration. Mark the strangers of every tongue, 
 nation, hue, habit, costume ; parents, youth, little ones, 
 families, patriarchal in number, an exotic, heterogeneous 
 throng, — " black spirits and white, red spirits and gray." 
 And yet they are not aimless, " ignohUe vidgus.''' Hope and 
 fire are in their eye : purpose, decision, cleave to their 
 bronzed and liardy faces. They have left one dear home. 
 The}* seek another. They carry with them foreign princi- 
 ples, prejudices, errors, vices. Some are sheep under the 
 guidance of the Great Shepherd ; some are wolves in sheep's 
 clothing; some are wolves in their own clothing. 
 
 Left alone, is there not danger that our great new West 
 may repeat the scenes of violence before the flood, and come 
 to the reign of idleness, obscenity, and sulphur, witnessed by 
 Sodom and Gomorrah, and the cities about them? 
 
 But to this dark and threatening cloud is there no silver 
 lining? Did not Gerizim stand over against Ebal? Was 
 not the whole mount full of chariots and horsemen round 
 about Elisha? Our extremity is God's opportunity. He 
 who appeared for Gideon, David, Esther, can say to the 
 forces of evil, " Thus far, and no farther." God has never 
 signed a quitclaim to an inch of the soil. Over all this 
 broad land He holds a warranty deed. Satan and his imps 
 are squatters. To all such He will issue a writ of ejectment. 
 Of all the resources of this vast region, of the treasures of 
 the sea, of the treasures of the forest, the treasures of the 
 mine, of the pastures to be clothed with flocks, of the cattle 
 upon a thousand hills, God will say, " Tliese are mine." 
 
 Against this moral horde of Philistines, the Lord has 
 brought out a blind but mighty Samson with iron arms. 
 Ezekiel saw "wheels strong, swift, terrible." They were 
 "full of eyes." "The Spirit was within the Avheels." Here 
 "the earth helps the woman." Avarice may build the rail- 
 road, water the stock, filch from the small owners, break the 
 
MISSIONS. — BENE VOLENCE. 89 
 
 Sabbath ; but God has His hand upon the crank. He claims 
 the first bonds. He is the chief proprietor, director. Van- 
 derbilt and Jay Goukl are but His switch-tenders. The Lord 
 has a great use for His railroads ; they are the highway of His 
 redeemed. In this union, this coming-together of the mis- 
 sionary and the railroad age, faith sees the eternal purpose. 
 The scream of the whistle will indeed scare the buffalo and 
 the prairie-wolf; but the railroad will bring to the Indian, the 
 Mormon, the Mexican, the miner, the Bible, the teacher, the 
 missionary. It stretches out its iron fingers into fertile val- 
 leys and into productive mines. It will unlock the riches 
 kept hid from the foundation of the world. It will equalize 
 wealth, intelligence. The railroad and the home missionary 
 are united in effort. They are owned by the same great 
 firm. '-Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be 
 increased." 
 
 The school is another lever in the hands of the home mis- 
 sionary cause, to lift and roll off the mass of ignorance and 
 vice settling down on our western borders. Education 
 begins with the little ones. It is a fire that kindles from the 
 bottom. The school imparts refinement to the texture and 
 hue of society. The community rise with the school. Mil- 
 lions of children now divided into a babel of tongues are 
 calling out for teachers. The Lord is the great president of 
 these missionary schools. To sharp, ingenious, pious teach- 
 ers who will answer to these ten thousand calls, He promises 
 a rich bounty. " The Lord gave the word. Great were the 
 company of them who published it." The word " company " 
 here, in the original, is in the feminine gender. The meaning 
 is, a great company of tvomen obeyed the call. " Kings and 
 their armies fled apace." Daniel declares "they that be 
 wise," more literally, 'Hheij that be teachers, shall shine as 
 the brightness of the firmament and as the stars for ever and 
 ever. . . . 
 
 But the jjreacher as well as the teacher must be abroad. 
 Of our 11G,325 miles of railroad, more than 11,000 miles 
 were laid last year. Along this line a village is sprhiging 
 up every ten miles. Now, to start the Sabbath worship and 
 
90 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 the Sabbath-school, to antagonize the saloon and every other 
 evil work, the minister of Christ shonld be on the first train, 
 there to stand the messenger of truth, the legate of the 
 skies. . . . 
 
 The home missionary, backed by the prayers, and sustained 
 by the contributions of the church, obeys the command, " Go 
 preach." The Spirit puts him down in a valley that is full of 
 bones, and the bones are very many and very dry. It is in 
 some mining, gambling centre where Satan's seat is. But he 
 walks with God. He speaks the truth as it is in Jesus. The 
 arrows strike between the joints of the breastplate. Under 
 the roughest jacket are stirred the memories of home, of Sab- 
 bath, and sanctuary scenes. Conscience awakes from its 
 long slumber. The professor, who like Saul has been hid 
 among the stuff, thinks of his violated vows, and cries, 
 "Restore unto me the joys of thy salvation." The ambas- 
 sador of Christ proves a magnet around which the better 
 elements cleave. The truth begins to radiate, the Sabbath to 
 dawn ; the Spirit comes ; souls are saved ; a church is gath- 
 ered and founded on the rock. Schools spring up. Holy 
 influences penetrate and go hand in hand with business 
 enterprises. Sodom is redeen^.ed. 
 
 If, then, the territory, the natural wonders, the resources 
 of the home missionary field, are so vast, if the combinations 
 of the enemy are so strong, if the influences of the school 
 and the pulpit are so needful, shall we not come up to the 
 help of the Lord with a self-denial more depleting, with an 
 overcoming faith like that of Joshua, before which Jericho 
 fell down flat, before which the sun stood still on Gibeon, 
 and the moon in the Valley of Aijalon? 
 
 Have we not " come to the kingdom for such a time as 
 this?" 
 
 " The crisis presses on us, — face to face with us it stands, 
 
 With solemn lips of question like the Sphinx in Egypt's sands; 
 
 This day we fashion Destiny, our web of Fate we spin; 
 
 This day, for all hereafter, choose we holiness or sin. 
 
 Even now from starry Gerizim, or Ebal's cloudy crown. 
 
 We call the dews of blessing, or the bolts of cursing down." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SECOND DECADE IN PALMYRA. 
 1859-1869. 
 
 THE WAR. — DAYS OF AFFLICTION. — LIFE, A SCHOOL. — 
 LITERARY LABORS. — LECTURE ON TREES. — ARTICLES 
 FOR THE PRESS. 
 
 Mr. Eaton had been brought up by his mother in the doctrines of the 
 old American Peace Society, of which Dr. Noah Worcester was the 
 founder and president. But when the news came in from Sumter, he 
 did not long debate. In a sermon preached to the Palmyra volunteers, 
 June 1, 1861, on the text, "Behold, therefore, the goodness and the 
 severity of God," he stated the considerations that led him to say, toward 
 the close of his discourse, — 
 
 All peaceful negotiations have failed. There is no alter- 
 native. We must accept the arbitrame7it of arms. But " he 
 is twice armed who hath his quarrel just." We fight to save 
 a government wrought out by successive generations of 
 martyrs, baptized in the blood of Revolutionary heroes. We 
 fight for the star-spangled banner that fans tlie spirit of 
 freedom, wherever unfurled. We fight, not for revenge or 
 conquest, but to sustain the best government in the world. 
 We need harbor no hatred against those men who would 
 break up this Union. Washington dropped tears as he signed 
 the death-warrant of the guilty, thus illustrating the doc- 
 trine of the text, "Behold, therefore, the goodness and 
 severity of God." We have a single object. We would 
 save the country. We cannot draw a hne of separation 
 between the Lakes and the Gulf. We cannot divide the Mis- 
 sissippi. We cannot divide the Hving child. The nation's 
 life is worth more than any individual life, and, did not age 
 forbid, I would be with you on the tented field and in the 
 deadly strife. 
 
92 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 He thus addressed another company leaving for " the front " : — 
 I have beard the drum and the fife since I Avas a boy, but 
 not with such feelings of solemnity as to-day. I have looked 
 all my life on that Hag, but it never appeared to me so noble 
 as now ; its stars so like those that once " sang together," 
 and its stripes so like the " breaking of the morning." I 
 have regarded war with dread, but if I understand the gospel, 
 or the sacrifice of Calvary, it is founded on government. 
 Government is an institution of God as really as tlie church. 
 . . . The invincible logic of Paul defends us. The govern- 
 ment must be sustained, even if by the sword. 
 
 Volunteers, you do not go forth as mercenaries, but as 
 an army of the Constitution and the Union. You differ from 
 those wlio fight for destruction. You figlit for laAv : you 
 will obey law. You fight for truth : you will give an exam- 
 ple of truth. . . . Go, regard your health, your virtue, your 
 Testaments ! God (jo ivitJi you. 
 
 We find among his sermons one delivered May G, 18C1, from the text, 
 " Be not afraid or dismayed by reason of this great multitude, for the 
 battle is not yours, but (lod's "; another, on "The I>uty of the Church 
 to Soldiers." He followed the 111th Regiment to Auburn, and preached 
 to them on the Sabbath (Aug. 17, 1862) previous to their leaving for the 
 seat of war. Many a strong man just off for the camp came to his 
 house, knelt with him a few moments alone in prayer, took his hand, 
 and, bidding him farewell, said with tears, " Don't forget to pray for me, 
 Mr. Eaton." 
 
 With the other clergymen and citizens of the town, he exerted himself 
 to tlie utmost to furnish supplies for the sick and wounded through the 
 Sanitarj' and Christian Commissions. 
 
 He saw that the soldiers were provided with Testaments, in which 
 were written the name and an appropriate text. He gave to many on 
 their return a leaflet, "Mustered out, — now look out!" Several sent 
 their money to his care. For one entire year he helped to sustain a daily 
 prayer-meeting for our imperiled country. Much of the time it was held 
 in his study. We find also sermons that he preached upon those gloomy 
 days appointed by President Lincoln as seasons of fasting, when the wail 
 of the people went up, "Give us Joshuas for officers," "Send us victory"; 
 others delivered at the funeral of soldiers buried in our own cemetery ; 
 still others at memorial sen-ices held for those wlio sleep in unl-noum 
 graves. Some of these perished at Libby, Andersouville, and Salis- 
 
THE WAR. 93 
 
 bury : " They that be slain with the sword are better than they that be 
 slain with hunger ; for these pine away, stricken through for want of the 
 fruits of the field." 
 
 July 4, 1876, he writes : — 
 
 Of the boj^s in bine, net less than ninety names are 
 engraved on the two tablets of stone in our public hall, and 
 still deeper in our hearts. They offered themselves a free, 
 a willing sacrifice for the dear old flag. And while we live 
 we will strew their graves with flowers, and with loyal affec- 
 tion pledge ourselves to sustain the liberties they died to 
 save. 
 
 Mr. Eaton's " Triumph in Clirist " was not obtained Avithout sojourn- 
 ing now and then in " deserts, and sleeping on stone pillows." The Lord 
 of the way prepared him by these for " an open heaven and an angel- 
 crowded ladder." 
 
 A terrible stroke was the death of his second son, John Spaulding 
 Eaton, aged nineteen years. It occurred July 4, 1868. The following is 
 from an obituary notice, written by his father : — 
 
 The young tree is often taken from the nursery to bloom 
 and bear in another clime. Youth, promise, and worth are 
 pluched away from their shaded retreats while little known. 
 This was true of the departed one just mentioned. The last 
 two years he was shut in by sickness ; he was coy and studi- 
 ous in health. In the busy world he will not be missed. 
 The face of nature will bloom as fair, and the tide of life 
 will flow on, as though he had never lived. But the savor of 
 his memory will still linger in the liome, the scliool, the 
 church. His home will long be the sweeter for the memorials 
 that remind us of his young and ingenuous life. It is pleas- 
 ant to recall the good nature and ingenuity that mingled in 
 the drollery and fun of his childish sports. His little sleds, 
 wagons, and guns still show the guileless adroitness that 
 endeared him to his friends and associates. As childhood 
 merged into youth, the earlier rays matured into a purer and 
 richer light. His influence will ever be fragrant in the ch-cle 
 of his bereaved kindred. His school life has left the same 
 deep and distinct features upon the minds of his associates 
 in study. He could not take a superficial view of any thing. 
 
94 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 lie souci'ht clear distinctions and intellio-ent convictions of 
 truth. His studies were marked with accuracy. The prin- 
 ciples of grammar and mathematics were wiitten in his mind 
 with the point of a diamond. Science with him Avas not so 
 much a matter of memory as of insight and mental assimila- 
 tion. Hence whatever he mastered was ever at his com- 
 mand. Not the most subtle shade of a Greek particle or 
 verb, not a remark of a revered teacher, not a passage in the 
 text-books he studied, but was ready at his call. Dr. Taylor, 
 principal of Phillips Academy, Andover, said of him that he 
 " could not recollect a look, a word, or an action which he 
 could have Avished otherwise." Ilis mental habits gave type 
 to his Christian experience. He will be remembered in the 
 church. Deep conviction of sin prepared the way for humble 
 dependence upon Christ, and for an entire consecration to 
 EPis sfervice. Impressed with the moral wastes of the world, 
 and his own obligations to his Redeemer, without any human 
 solicitation he cheerfully accepted the gospel ministry as his 
 life-work. With this aim he was pressing on in full tide of 
 success, when insidious disease marked him for its victim. 
 The conflict was trying. It was hard to leave the noble 
 band of youth with whom he was associated. He appreci- 
 ated all that a liberal education could promise. He tliirsted 
 to drink of these crystal fountains. The disappointment 
 crossed every natural and gracious aspiration. The bravest 
 soldier never yielded from the ranks in which he was keep- 
 ing step to certain victory, with a severer reluctance. The 
 love of his fellows, the love of knowledge, the love of achieve- 
 ment, and the love of Christ, were the secret of his love of 
 life. It was like the desire of Moses to carry out his great 
 work, "to go over and see that goodly mountain and Leba- 
 non." But as disease progressed, his grasp of life seemed to 
 let go, and he could say, " I thank God that my times are 
 in His hands." "He will sustain mc in whatever he has for 
 me to pass through." " He has something for me to do in 
 another world." " Jesus is with me ; I have no doubts." 
 He had not strength to return the thanks he felt. In grati- 
 tude to God, he gave himself up a living sacrifice. Every 
 
LIFE A SCHOOL. 95 
 
 solicitude and service, every prayer offered in Iiis behalf, the 
 first rose of summer, the first strawberries, cherries, every 
 dainty sent him, thrilled his heart. And so numerous were 
 the kindnesses of this people, irrespective of denomination, 
 that not only w^as life given to his days, but days to liis life. 
 His word was, " I don't see why they are all so kind to me. 
 It must be they do it for Christ's sake." 
 
 And here his parents and the family would gratefully 
 acknowledge that, amid the processions and jubilant displays 
 of the Fourth of July, the day in which his discharge came, 
 his couch was passed in silence and respect. Nor will they 
 ever forget the efficient and delicate offices that softened the 
 grief of tlie funeral and the grave. 
 
 Three years after, he thus writes to his sister : — 
 
 July 4, 1871. 
 
 Dear Sister Lucketia, — It is just three years to a 
 moment since my dear John left me. How quick he went 
 beyond my call ! How that last word and look come back to 
 me ! He was my companion, — more than my equal. I had 
 not a book, a principle, or thought, that I had not devoted to 
 him. How grateful to have heard him preach the same 
 gospel I love ! God knows why He took him away. To me 
 it is mysterious. I bow, not because I 7nust, but because 
 God is right. 
 
 Three years in heaven ! He needs none of my books or 
 thoughts. He knows more than I do. He is happier than 
 I am. I would not bring him back. But what is his con- 
 sciousness? what his employment? Does he ever think of 
 me? Does he ever hover around my sorrowful path? "I 
 shall go to him. He will not return to me." 
 
 On the first Sabbath of the year 1808, he preached the follo^Ying 
 sermon : — 
 
 Life a School. Ps. 71 : 17. " O God, thou hast taught 
 me from my youth." Is it not at least a reasonable fancy 
 that loyal spirits of the other world may find delight and 
 improvement in flights of exploration amid the vastness and 
 wonders of creation? Suppose an angel of superior rank, 
 
96 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 and jet a stranger to the history of man, should find himself 
 crossing the disk of our planet. He balances on his wings, 
 and looks down among the children of men. It is one of 
 the gala days of the nation. He naturally concludes that 
 this Avorld is given up to pleasure and hilarity. Yet, not 
 satisfied, he resolves to make another investigation. He 
 moves on to a different meridian of our globe. Here his eye 
 falls upon a scene of toil, burdens, cares. He noAV concludes 
 that the earth is a workshop, that all things are full of 
 labor, and that man is an abject and oppressed slave. 
 
 But, since this second view is so unlike the first, he deter- 
 mines to make one more examination. This reveals to him 
 a mingled scene, — toil and joy and sorrow. Elegant man- 
 sions seem surrounded with prisons and workshops and hos- 
 pitals. His convictions are mixed and confused. His heart 
 works with unearthly anxiety. He cries, "What are these 
 regions n})on wh.ich I have alighted? What are the principles 
 and purposes which these contradictory assemblies reveal?" 
 
 Just then, the angel having the everlasting gospel, being 
 caused to fly swiftly, touched him, and informed him. His 
 message was, that, although there were scenes of mirth and 
 toil and mourning, yet this earth was neither a playground, 
 a workshop, nor a hospital, but that these were all combined 
 in t^ie one idea of trial, probation : in short, this world was 
 a moral gymnasium, a school, a place of discipline prepara- 
 tory to a more glorious life, — God's arrangement for fitting 
 sinful souls to graduate with honor to wider spheres and 
 hiffher activities. The cheer and blithesomeness he first 
 witnessed were to relieve the toil of his second observation ; 
 and the toil was to chasten the gayety of the first. One was 
 set over against the other to balance the different powers and 
 passions, and to develop a character even, symmetrical, hoi}'. 
 This view of man is the onlj'- one that solves the great prob- 
 lem of human existence. Brethren, it is the fust Sabbath of 
 the year. Life a school will not be inappropriate for this 
 hour's meditation. " O God, thou hast taught me from my 
 youth." 
 
 And here it is obvious that a wise teacher will show his 
 
LIFE A SCHOOL. 97 
 
 skill in the adaptations and arrangements of Ms schoolroom. 
 Eveiy temple erected to ecluccation should be capacious, 
 orderly, quiet, I have also noticed ingenious devices on the 
 walls, — maps illustrating geography and astronomy. Moral 
 and religious sentiments are made to speak from different 
 tablets. Lofty and capacious is this temple where man is 
 placed, fitted to awe, stimulate, and strengthen every power. 
 What order, what stillness, mark all God's movements ! For 
 maps we have the veritable landscape with mountain and 
 valley, woodland and lawn. For the orrery, or the represen- 
 tations of the planets and the constellations, we have only to 
 look up to the dome, and we have the shining and wheeling 
 orbs themselves. 
 
 Equally attractive are the teachers of this great union- 
 school. Dame Nature is the first preceptress. Her winning 
 voice and gentle breath are first to attract the eye, and 
 charm the ear, of infancy. Nature is an object-teacher. 
 Before human diction can be understood, she holds out to the 
 child the golden sun, the silver moon, the twinkling stars, 
 the clear sk3% the rain-cloud, the sweet shower, the light- 
 ning's flash, the rainbow spanning the eastern horizon. All 
 that has life awakens ideas of beauty, wonder, and love in 
 the embryo soul. Nature conducts the infant-chiss in the 
 great school of immortality. Hers is the primary depart- 
 ment, and of primary importance. It was a wise saying of 
 John Locke, that he had acquired more ideas at five years 
 old than in all the rest of his life. Do you find trouble in 
 securing a teacher for the infant mind? Set your child 
 down in i\\e lap of Nature, there to play with flowers, to look 
 up to the trees, to the mountain, to the stars. Let the ear 
 hear the songs of the grove, the soft breathings of spring, 
 the sighing of autumn, and the hoarse blast of winter, and 
 you have furnished the element and aliment of that young 
 soul's growth. Nature is the child's counterpart. It speaks 
 it into life and joy. 
 
 " All Nature's objects have 
 An echo in the heart. This flesh doth thrill, 
 And has connection by some unseen chain 
 
98 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 With its original source .ind kindred substance. 
 Tlie mighty forest, tlie proud tides of ocean, 
 Slvy-dcaring hills, and in tlie vast of air 
 The starry constellations, and the sun, 
 Parent of life exhaustless, — these maintain 
 "With the mysterious mind and breathing mould 
 A co-existence and community." 
 
 Experience was a "vvell-known teacher in the school of time. 
 The young, the gay, the refractory, called her severe and 
 forbidding. True, her lessons were often gained at fearful 
 cost ; but they were practical and safe. She brought the 
 wayward to their senses with pungent inflictions. But she 
 never ceased to win upon older scholars. The disobedient 
 and restive, who, like Rehoboam, despised the counsel of 
 the aged, at last learned Avith sorrow that " days should 
 speak, and the multitude of years should teacli wisdom." 
 She was indeed the great teacher of man. The tomes of 
 learning in all the arts and professions were but her precepts 
 recorded. As the world grows older, her words become 
 more weighty, yet often less heeded. How strange, that the 
 wreck of others should not convince the coming voyager of 
 the hidden reef! How often are the failures of the past like 
 a light on the stern of a ship, casting a lurid glare upon the 
 foaming Avaters behind, instead of a light at the prow to guide 
 the vessel in her future course ! But this Avas clear. Experi- 
 ence by her plain dealing and unerring rule, commanded the 
 fear of all, and the hearty obedience and respect of every 
 successful candidate for eternity. 
 
 In introducing another teacher, it should be remembered 
 that this seminary for innnortality Avas a graded school. 
 Though the departments and instructors harmonized and 
 co-operated, yet one was preliminary, and preparatory to the 
 other. Beside coming under the tuition of Nature and 
 Experience, all must i)ass through the department presided 
 over by that divine disciplinarian, Providence. If Nature 
 drew her instructions from Avhat seemed present, and Ex[)eri- 
 •nce from the past, Providence chose his field of study from 
 " ' . He Avas eminent for his discipline, and, although 
 
LIFE A SCHOOL. 99 
 
 he moved all unseen and unheard among his pupils, yet he 
 discriminated just the stage of knowledge, the tendency and 
 temperament of each scholar, and with infinite skill adapt- 
 ed the lesson to the individual condition. One thino- was 
 peculiar to this instructor, — his department Avas divided into 
 two rooms. And though there was a strong separating 
 Avail, yet ample doors permitted a ready passage from one 
 room to another. Between these apartments there Avas a 
 striking contrast. One Avas on the south side, lined Avith 
 mirrors, floored Avith ornamental tapestr}^, sumptuous AA-ith 
 divans, vocal with the continued swell of music. The Avin- 
 doAVS looked out on parks and gardens where birds sang 
 amid lofty branches, " where floAvers ever blossomed, and 
 beams ever shone." The other room Avas forbidding. The 
 floor was bare, the furniture rough, the seats hard. It was 
 on the north side : the hail often beat terribly against the 
 wall. No windoAvs opened to inviting landscapes. All the 
 light came doAA'n from above. Lessons of great difficulty 
 Avere here to be Avorked out on the blackboard. The pupils 
 were obliged to bend all their faculties to the task before 
 them, and often tears fell on the pages they Avere studying. 
 NoAV, it Avas not strange that the bright hall of Prosperity 
 should be thronged. But, notwitlistanding the pleasing 
 aspect, the eyes and minds of many of the pupils Avere 
 diverted from the depth and thoroughness sought. While 
 Providence Avas a teacher that loved the pleasure and smiles 
 of his pupils, he Avas firm to their higher interests. He ever 
 had his eye upon their graduation-day. The chief aim of the 
 school was not present enjoyment, but advancement. This 
 sturdy disciplinarian sometimes found it necessary to trans- 
 fer his pupils from the sunny apartment of Prosi)erity to the 
 bleak and forbidding condition of Adversity. The arrange- 
 ment Avas profitable for revicAV and deeper thought. Indeed, 
 it Avas plain that the north side made the best scholars. 
 Their prospects for honors and degrees were decidedly more 
 promising. "Blessed is the man Avhom thou chastenest, and 
 teachest him out of thy laAV." Many of the children of For- 
 tune inveighed against the change. Some bribed, some 
 
100 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 threatened, some withstood. But when the stern tutor saw 
 there was no improvement, that through indifference, pride, 
 or passion, there was neither gratitude to God nor generosity 
 to men, he was inexorable, and the event frequently vindi- 
 cated the decision. Without respect to persons, the son of the 
 aflluent was p,ut to the same tasks, on the same seats, under 
 the same skylight, with the child of want. The lesson was 
 often salutary. Many a one has lost his wealth, laid away 
 his friends in the grave, to save his soul. What scholars 
 have been made under the rod of Adversity ! A smooth sea 
 never turned out a brave sailor. Storms rouse the faculties, 
 the invention, the patience, the fortitude. Disappointments, 
 bereavements, take out of us our self-will, self-conceit, super- 
 ficiality, complaints, and make us modest, submissive, grate- 
 ful. . . . Good scholars will give themselves up to welcome, 
 and obey the discipline of so wise and far-reaching instruc- 
 tion. 
 
 " lie who ne'er eats liis bread with sighs, 
 
 Or througli the livelong night 
 Ke'cr weeping on his pillow lies, 
 
 Knows not divine delight. 
 The good are better made by ill, 
 As odors crushed are sweeter still." 
 
 But Christ is " the Great Teacher come from God." He 
 spoke with simplicity, authorit}*, and power. He opened 
 vistas of knowledge never before explored. Jesus Christ is 
 the director, proprietor, president, of this great university of 
 time. All other teachers are subordinate. "Never man 
 spake like this man." While He calls in all the ancient coin, 
 all the worn impressions derived from Nature, Experience, 
 and Providence, He carries up the truth to its climax, culmi- 
 nation, and glor}'. The truth as it is in Jesus shines in its 
 ])urity and perfect proportions. The teachings of Jesus are 
 simple, yet profound. He is the radiating centre of infinite 
 love, justice, and holiness. I have sometimes seen the clouds 
 divide, and open a crevasse into the deep cerulean of heaven. 
 Christ, beyond all others, has dis])ersed the darkness, and 
 brought "life and iuimurtality to light." He is " the resurrec- 
 
LIFE A SCHOOL. 101 
 
 tion and the life." In His life and death He has solved the 
 great problem how " God can be just, and yet justify him that 
 believeth." " He took the book, and opened the seven seals 
 thereof." 
 
 The Holy Spirit has an infinitely glorious part in conduct- 
 ing the education of souls for heaven. The text-books 
 studied are His work. " Holy men of old spoke as tliey were 
 moved by the Holy Ghost." He is " the Spirit of wisdom 
 and understanding." He opens the eyes and heart. He 
 leads into all truth. " He shall teach you all things, and 
 bring all things to your remembrance." 
 
 But this school of time has its terms of study and examina- 
 tions. Distinguished universities are close and impartial in 
 marking the conduct and progress of every student. If he 
 fall behind, he is admonished, conditioned. If he do not 
 come up to the standard, he is dropped. If he quicken his 
 pace, he may redeem the time, and recover his standing. The 
 style of his dress, the beauty of his library, the respectability 
 of his friends, are all left out of tlie account. The question 
 is personal. Does the improvement of the student promise 
 an honorable graduation? If not, he is ignobly dismissed. 
 There are terms, seasons of trial, of examination, in the school 
 for eternity. How terrible to fail I What advantages, what 
 encouragements to success! This very temple of God in 
 which we study is hung about with symbols .of truth fitted 
 to develop and educate the soul. How inspiring the voices 
 of Nature ! How replete with wisdom the warnings of Expe- 
 rience ! What adaptation in the discipline of Providence! 
 How full of light, love, and sympathy, the teachings of Jesus! 
 How ready is the Holy Spirit to "take of the things of 
 Christ, and show them to the soul " ! With such provisions 
 for our education, why should any of us come short of the 
 wisdom, discipline, approval, which will bring us the diploma 
 signed, "Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou 
 into the joy of thy Lord" ? 
 
 My dear hearer, art thou a good scholar in this school of 
 time? Thou art entering upon another term. Hast thou 
 by sloth, disobedience, impenitence, obscured thy prospects ? 
 
102 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 By application to tlie words and to the blood of Christ, 
 "learn of Him " that thy past delinquencies may be canceled, 
 thy failures, thy sins, be blotted out. Jesus can give thee 
 strength, victory, and an abundant entrance on thy gradua- 
 tion da}' to perfect knowledge and to perfect joy. 
 
 Untiring labor for the spiritual interests of his people did not preclude 
 occasional literary and secular eiforts. He delivered addresses and lec- 
 tures ^ in Palmyra and in other places ; but he was jealous lest these 
 engagements interfere with his regular parish work. He " bore upon his 
 heart before the Lord continually " the question, " Where is thy flock, 
 thy beautiful flock ? " In his contributions to the press he sought to 
 profit as well as please, and his articles were often written to " point a 
 moral " as well as to " adorn a tale." He desired to share with his 
 friends what he saw and heard as he journeyed in his summer vacations. 
 He greatly enjoyed literary pursuits and studies, and believed that an 
 occasional detour into fields not strictly the domain of the pulpit gave 
 rest and elasticity to his own mind, and better prepared him to preach 
 the gospel. "The bow," he said, "cannot always be bent." 
 
 We insert extracts from a lecture on "Trees," delivered in 18G7, long 
 before the eloquent pleas of to-day for our Adirondack forests and the 
 protection of our river-basins. 
 
 . . . The very construction of a tree proclaims a creative intel- 
 ligence. . . . Now has the tree life so much in common with 
 man's life, — are we alike living, breathing, feeding, growing, 
 social, and improving natures, — and shall we scorn the idea 
 of kindred with these our verdant relatives? Is it all a 
 figure when it is said, " A man shall grow as the palm-tree," 
 " He shall flourish as a cedar in Lebanon," " As the days of 
 a tree so are the days of my people " ? 
 
 Besides this sympathy in structure and life, there is a spirit 
 in the woods that is most grateful and inspiring to the human 
 soul. . . . Trees stood in the primeval paradise the emblems 
 of knowledge and innocence. Leaves composed the first 
 garments. . . . Of trees from antediluvian forests was made 
 the pontoon bridge that brought Noah across the flood. The 
 silence, solitude, and tranquillity of the wood invite to medi- 
 
 ^ Some may recall liis earlier lectures on Iiobcrt Burns, Ancient Palmyra, 
 John Milton, on Tiic Imagination, Address before the Wool Growers' Asso- 
 ciation, and others. 
 
"WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE." 103 
 
 tation and devotion. " The groves were God's first temples." 
 Abraham "phmted a grove in Beersheba, and there called upon 
 the name of the Lord, the everlasting God." Under these 
 trees he entertained angels unawares. In the purchase of a 
 burying-place, " the trees that were in the field, and that were 
 in the borders round about," were made sure in the deed. 
 Balaam felt the inspiration of the forest as he exclaimed, 
 " How goodly are thy tents, O Jacob ! and thy tabernacles, O 
 Israel ! As valleys are they spread forth, as gardens by the 
 river's side, as the trees of lign-aloes which the Lord hath 
 planted, and as cedar-trees beside the waters." Solomon 
 loved trees, and planted all kinds. He spake of trees, "from 
 the cedar-tree that is in Lebanon even unto the hyssop, that 
 springeth out of the wall." The ancient prophets sought to 
 the trees for the expression of their sorrow. Elijah sat down 
 under a juniper-tree, and the disconsolate captives hung their 
 harps upon the willows. Again, in their joy they heard the 
 sound of a triumphant "going in the tops of the mulberry- 
 trees." They called upon the trees of the field to " clap their 
 hands." They tuned their harps, they wrote under the trees, 
 and, like the garments of Esau, the whole web of revelation 
 breathes the resonant sweetness " of the field which the Lord 
 hath blessed." . . . The botany of tlie Holy Land is found 
 preserved witliin the pages of the Holy Book. 
 
 But trees were not only the glory of Lebanon and the 
 excellency of Carmel, they whispered to the poetic soul 
 seated on the top of Olympus or along the banks of the 
 Illissus. Classic song catches inspiration from the sighing 
 winds, and weaves its fancies and harmonies from overhanging 
 branches. Rustic Tityrus practices his lay under the wide- 
 spreading beech. Homer peoples the groves with nymphs, 
 and gives soul to the trees. May we not learn truth from 
 his fable ? 
 
 Is there not a variety of thought and sentiment held to 
 the eye by the physiognomy of trees, as by the faces of men ? 
 May not thoughts hang upon branches as well as upon 
 brows? Who does not see in the oak of a hundred winters 
 the expression of manly firmness? 
 
 " Jove's own tree, that held the woods in awful sovereignty." 
 
104 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Ill the tall and waving elm are there not depicted queenly 
 diq-nity and grace? In the firm and regular maple we see a 
 condition, "well to do," consistency, and common sense. The 
 evergreen speaks of hope amid changes ; the aspen, of excita- 
 bility ; the willow, of sympathy in sorrow. By their exquisite 
 structure, mysterious life, and close association, trees have 
 struck their roots deep into the soul of man, and distil the 
 freshness of their foliage into every page of sacred and classic 
 song. Indeed, this natural admiration has degenerated into 
 the worship of trees. Xerxes in his march into Greece 
 halted to worship a plane-tree in Lydia, adorned it with 
 jewels and ornaments of gold, and appointed a sentinel to 
 watch it. Each of the gods had some sacred and ornamental 
 
 tree. . . . 
 
 I come back to my text, " Woodman, spare that tree." 
 The tree is the ornament, the gem of the landscape. As 
 a matter of taste, fnie trees make a more pleasing impression 
 than a gorgeous dwelling. . . . That old roof-tree has been 
 an educator. It has given off unconscious tuition to differ- 
 ent generations of men. . . . There are sacred trees, there 
 are patriotic trees, — trees that smiled on the heroes, and 
 listened to the cannon, of the Revolution. It is a tonic to 
 stand by the elm on Boston Common, or that other elm at 
 Cambridge, under the shadow of which Washington accepted 
 the command of the American army. Hartford held funeral 
 obsequies over the fall of their Charter Oak, and plucked a 
 leaf or a splinter to bequeathe to their children. . . . What 
 shall we say of those monarchs of the wilderness which God 
 Himself planted when the earth was young, those patriarchs 
 which almost connect our times with those before the flood? 
 Turn to your own deep and glorious woods. Are they not 
 memorable in their associations? Once the smoke of the 
 wigwam went up through their branches. They greeted your 
 fathers at their coming. Their concentric rings mark the 
 flight of centuries. . . . 
 
 " Woodman, spare that tree : " it is the home of the birds. 
 . . . There are no matins or vespers so inspiriting to the 
 husbandman as the redbreast's early and evening song. 
 
''WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE." 105 
 
 There is no flute like the clear, soft note of the oriole as 
 he sings apart. How gloriously do the sounding aisles of 
 the deep woods ring to the free and feathered songsters ! 
 What more diverting than the bobolink clinging to a tree, 
 and gabbling away in his giggling drollery ! The sober 
 interests of agriculture suffer without this species of wild 
 and cheerful life. Many birds live almost exclusively on 
 larvse and insects, those depredators on the fruits of the field 
 and the orchard. Experience shows that the destruction of 
 birds is the destruction of our gardens and fruit. Armies of 
 rapacious creatures will come up from the earth, and, like the 
 locust, sting, wither, and poison every green thing. We 
 cannot sjjare the birds. Then we cannot spare the trees. 
 Trees are their home, shelter, defence. "The trees of the 
 Lord are full of sap, the cedars of Lebanon which He hath 
 planted. There the birds build their nests. By them shall 
 the fowls of the heaven have their habitation, which sing 
 among the branches." 
 
 But forest-trees should be spared as the shelter and 
 defence of our fields and fruits. This Wayne County rejoices 
 in orchards and vineyards. A belt of land some twenty 
 miles wide hugs the southern shore of the lake, extending 
 from Red Creek westward, nearly to Buffalo. This is fitted 
 in soil and climate to be one great orchard, with less labor 
 rendering a far richer income than any other product. Since 
 the forests have been so ruthlessly cut away, fruit, especially 
 peaches, have become a precarious crop. Winds having their 
 full sweep strike and chill the trees. Our orchards must 
 have the defence of the forests on the windward. John 
 Thomas in visiting this section, so long his residence, could 
 not refrain from publishing his regret at the Avasting-away 
 of the forests. The crash of our trees, like the voice of 
 ancient ^olus, has opened the Cave of the Winds, and sent 
 them in destructive ranks over the landscape. Shot and 
 shell are hurled in the face of the traveler. Flocks and 
 herds fly for shelter across the plain ; and the tempests come 
 down upon our dwellings like " the storm of the terrible ones 
 against the wall." The snow given as wool for a mantle to 
 
106 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 the tender life of plants and to the springing grain, is swept 
 away in drifts. The naked trees are subjected to the freez- 
 ing cold. Winter grain is thrown out by the frost, or torn 
 out b}^ the wind. Young and newly planted orchards are 
 frozen, dried up, and destroyed by the blasts of the winter 
 months. . . . 
 
 " Woodman, spare that tree." It is your defence against 
 consuming drought. The heated currents from the open 
 field meet the cooler air of the forest. The temperature 
 sinks. Moisture is deposited. "Hath the rain a father?" 
 Yes, the oaks and waving pines beget the drops of the dew. 
 The heavens bend to distil their silvery progeny on the 
 incense-bearing leaves. Fields adjoining the woods share in 
 this freshness. 
 
 But trees not only invite the rain, but, by the fallen leaves 
 at the roots and by the leaves on the branches, they protect 
 these watery treasures from the boiling rays and absorbing 
 winds of heaven. The forests nourish and feed the springs 
 which run among the hills. Trees hoard and keep the treas- 
 ures of the snow. The first snows descend before the ground 
 is frozen in the woods. Additions are made during the 
 winter. When " the south winds blow and the waters flow," 
 the soil of the forest is like a sponge, ready to take up and 
 hold all the moisture committed to it. These deposits of the 
 snow fill the reservoirs of the springs for summer. Not so 
 with the open glebe. That is early frozen, and the snow not 
 already blown away melts, and the water runs off in freshets. 
 Hence we find the soil of the forests filled with moisture, 
 while that of the field is parched. A landscape denuded of 
 forests is bereft of the song of the babbling rivulet. Our 
 own once cheerful brook so mourns the loss of its parent 
 trees that it has wept itself dry. Once it was a continual 
 song through our fields and gardens. Once it was a power. 
 Save on the Sabbaths, it drove Deacon Jessup's saw-mill every 
 day in the year. The dear old trees of the wood are the 
 mediators between the waters above and thirsty fields, thirsty 
 springs, and thirsty men. 
 
 " Woodman, spare that tree." It will protect your health. 
 
"WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE:' lOT 
 
 A malanous atmosphere is purified by passing through living 
 vegetation. The tree of life was an emblem of perpetual 
 and eternal health. Moses sweetened the bitter waters of 
 Marah by the liealing virtues of a tree. The balm of Gilead, 
 gashed and mangled, sent out its sovereign remedy. Trees 
 are still the bearers of healing to the human race. Malarious 
 exhalations are cleansed away by the breath of the forest. 
 , . . Forests modify the cold of winter and the heat of 
 summer, and prevent sudden and trying changes in the 
 atmosphere. Lumbermen work with comfort in the deep 
 woods when they would freeze in the open field. ... To destroy 
 the trees is to break the established harmony between animal 
 and vegetable life. The tree exhales oxygen : the man 
 absorbs oxygen. Man breathes out carbon ; the tree breathes 
 in carbon. . . . 
 
 The destruction of surviving forests is ingratitude to our 
 ancestry, and injustice to our posterity. You have been 
 warmed and shaded by these woodlands wliich your fathers 
 transmitted to you intact. How can you better pay the debt 
 than by handing down to your children the same blessing ? 
 I know you are beset with strong temptations to sacrifice 
 this inheritance. The owner of more than one hundred and 
 forty acres of these tall, splendid forest-trees was besieged 
 to turn them over to the tender mercies of the railroad. 
 "What," said he, "shall I consign the magnificent possession 
 of my fathers to the voracious maw of the iron horse, breath- 
 ing out threatenings and slaughter against the life of every 
 tree? Shall I take these innocent children of the wood, and 
 cause them to pass through the fire unto Moloch?" In a 
 neighboring town, a clear-sighted and benevolent father 
 about to leave the world protected a hundred acres of wood- 
 land by a provision in his will. His son could hold property 
 only as long as he preserved the live and vigorous timber, 
 removing only that which was decaying or fallen. This man 
 was a Quaker, a true " Friend " to his posterity. One of your 
 number informed me, that passing on a time the house of the 
 late General Thomas Rogers, and pointing his finger to his 
 woodpile, he said, " General, why do you spare those fine 
 
108 REV. HORACE EATOX, D.D. 
 
 trees of your forests, and take up with such wood for your- 
 self?" This man of strong sense, fixing his penetrating eye 
 upon tlie inquirer, replied, "When I came upon the stage, I 
 found these woodlands ready to my hand. Tliey have served 
 me well, and I propose to transmit them unimpaired to the 
 next generation.^ We all feel the nobility of such a senti- 
 ment, — a sentiment not exhibited in the reckless destruction 
 of the forests for a present and personal advantage. 
 
 What is sin but the seizure of an immediate gratification 
 at the sacrifice of a distant and greater good? . . . More 
 than two hundred years ago, Bernard Palissy, a Huguenot, 
 thus pleaded for the forests in France : " When I consider 
 the value of the smallest grove of trees, I much marvel at 
 the great ignorance of men, who, as it seemeth, do nowa- 
 days study only to break down, fell, and waste the fair 
 forests which their forefathers did guard so choicely. I 
 would think no evil of them for cutting down the woods, did 
 they but replant again some part of them. But they care not 
 for the time to come, neither reck they of the great damage 
 they do to their children Avhieh shall come after them." 
 
 1 Nearly thirty years ago. Dr. Eaton suggested to the fathers of tlie town 
 the purchase of Prospect Hill. He said, — 
 
 "It would he a most princely generosity to secxire this to coming genera- 
 tions from the ravages of venality and unfeeling speculation. Athens had 
 her Hymettus, where the bees gathered from the wild thyme their sweetest 
 treasures, and the Muses sat together in their melodious concerts. Ancient 
 Samaria had her Gerizim, crowned with its sacred temple; Jerusalem had 
 her Moimt of Olives, inviting to an elevated devotion, whence jirophets and 
 even Jesus retired from the heated city to drink in the enchanting prospect, 
 and fan tlicir frames with the hreczcs of heaven. 
 
 " So let I'alniyra have a Mount of Olives, not as a high place of idolatry, or 
 as a grove for Sabbatli-breakiiig, but as a genial summit from which to look 
 abroad upon the works of nature and of art, — a place of pure meditation, 
 where trees and flowers may breathe their incense, where birds, unscarcd, may 
 mingle their notes with the songs of childhood. Let our Prospect Hill remain 
 an unhewn altar to invite future generations to pure refinement and exalted 
 sensibilities." 
 
 In 1884, the late Carlton II. Rogers, Esq., inheriting the sentiments of liis 
 father, bequeathed to the town of Palmyra the wooded hill referred to. With 
 filial love, he wished it to receive the name, " Mount Holmes," in honor of his 
 mother. Gratitude for this gift will not be confined to our own generation. 
 
ARTICLES FOR THE PRESS. 109 
 
 Moses gave commaiiclment to the chosen tribes: "When 
 thou goest out to besiege or make war upon another nation, 
 thou shalt not destroy the trees by forcing an axe against 
 them," — " for," he adds, " the tree of the fiekl is man's hfe." 
 
 Forget not, fellow-citizens, that the very name of our vil- 
 hige means "the city of palms." Trees gave attractiveness 
 to the ancient city, which stood an oasis on the great high- 
 way of the desert. Not less do the trees of our modern Pal- 
 myra extort the admiration of travelers as they go by us on 
 this great railway from the east to the west. . . . 
 
 You will rather say to the few clumps of trees that stand 
 trembling in the vale or on the crests of the hills, " Be not 
 afraid " ; and to the axe, " Here shall thy proud ravages be 
 stayed." . . . 
 
 We insert a few specimens of his newspaper articles. 
 
 The following is from a letter written after visiting a factory in 
 Bridgeport, Conn., for the manufacture of sewing-machines, and not long 
 after their first introduction. Dr. Eaton always loved to examine fine 
 machinery. 
 
 . . . Eve, the first woman, was the first seamstress. As 
 she sewed fig-leaves together for aprons, we are not informed 
 what thorn she used for a needle, or the fibre of what bark 
 for thread. We have no record of the devices in embroidery 
 worn by the antediluvian females. But, had there been a 
 sewing-machine then, Noah's wife and her daugliters-in-law 
 would surely have taken it into the ark. There was no 
 sewing-machine before the flood. 
 
 The ingenuity of Egyptian ladies is still .preserved in the 
 Catacombs. They wrought their lives into their shrouds. 
 Wise-hearted Hebrew women made the embroidered gar- 
 ments for Aaron and his sons. "All things were full of 
 labor." In variegated needlework they traced the vine and 
 the pomegranate, all the colors and garniture of Nature upon 
 the curtains of the tabernacle; "the work of those who 
 devised cunning work." The female hand has always been 
 the most tasteful and diligent in beautifying the sanctuaries 
 of the Most High. It was doubtless the lifelong work of 
 some obscure Babylonish woman to stitch the garment that 
 
110 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 so bewitched and overcame the virtue of poor Achan. Per- 
 haps lie stole it for his wife and daughters. There was no 
 sewing-machine in Babylon. 
 
 The Tyrians traded " in blue and purple and fine linen." 
 The}^ wore out human fingers in working brilliant figures 
 upon even the sails of their ships. By machinery these 
 wings of commerce are now decorated with greater ease and 
 I'apidity. The sewing-machine has excelled Hiram, the 
 widow's son, the artist of the temple. 
 
 The needlework of an Israelitish lady's wardrobe was the 
 richest spoil conquerors could carry away from the land 
 of the Hebrews. Upon what was the mother of Sisera most 
 intent as "she looked out at the window, and cried through 
 the lattice. Why is his chariot so long in coming? Why 
 tarry the wheels of his chariot ? Her wise ladies answered 
 her, yea, she returned answer to herself. Have they not 
 sped? Have they not divided the prey, — to Sisera a prey 
 of divers colors, a prey of divers colors of needlework, of 
 divers colors of needlework on both sides, meet for the necks 
 of them that take the spoil '^" Here was foreshadowed the 
 peculiar excellence of our sewing-machine. The needlework 
 is alike "on both sides." 
 
 Joseph's coat of many colors, the little frock that Hannah 
 brought to Samuel from year to year, the mantle of Elijah, 
 by which Jordan was divided, may have been wrought with 
 tiresome though loving toil. The daughter of Pharaoh, when 
 presented as a bride to Solomon, "was brought unto the 
 king in raiment of needlework." What expense of nerve 
 and life for royalty ! But neither Solomon's wife nor 
 Lemuel's mother ever saw a sewing-machine. Solomon in 
 all his glory was not arrayed by one of these. 
 
 The chaste and beautiful Penelope, in the twenty years' 
 absence of Ulysses her husband, kept her numerous suitors 
 at bay by the promise to marry one of them as soon as she 
 should finish a piece of tapestry upon which she was then 
 employed. She protracted the time to her husband's return 
 by raveling out in the night what she had wrought during 
 the day. In stitching Penelope's web, we must own our 
 
ARTICLES FOR THE PRESS. HI 
 
 machine would have been at fault: the stitch is too firm to 
 be unraveled. 
 
 At Plymouth Rock I have seen the needlework of Rose 
 btandish, Priscilla Alden, and other Puritan maidens, the 
 lock-stitch of art and faith that beguiled the weary weeks to 
 their wilderness home. 
 
 The i^eedle has served two ends,— pride and poverty It 
 commenced its work at the fall. But the needle had no part 
 in the Saviour's robe. That was without seam, woven from 
 the top throughout. And does not a ray of light gleam from 
 this fact to the time when machinery, almost self-intelligent 
 shall lift the burden that for twice eighteen centuries has 
 bowed the female form "so that she could in no wise lift up 
 herself"? And shall it not speak the life-giving word, 
 "Woman, thou art loosed from thine infirmity"?'' Then 
 shall she be made straight, and glorify God. . 
 
 Father Waldo. j^,^,^^ ^g^^^ 
 
 ... The last week we have had in our village a livmg 
 antique, the body a little marked, indeed, by the battle of 
 hie, but yet his hearing scarcely dulled, his eye not dim, nor 
 his natural force abated. 
 
 t.7^'\t?.7' -^'''"'^^ ^^'''^'^^ ^' '^^^^^^" t^^o jears of a century. 
 Were William Pitt the younger now alive, he would be but 
 three years older than Mr. Waldo; Alexander Hamilton, 
 but hve years; and Washington himself, but thirty vears 
 older. Napoleon, Marshal Ney, Humboldt, Lord Wellino-- 
 ton, and DeWitt Clinton were born 1769. They have run 
 tlieir brilliant careers, and silence sits upon their tombs 
 But Father Waldo, born seven years before them, still lives 
 to tell us from his own memory of the events and the 
 enthusiasm that brought on the Declaration of Independ- 
 ence, as well as the part he acted in the struggle that secured 
 to us our liberties. 
 
 _ He vouches for this marvelous incident in the history of 
 his birthplace, Windham, Conn. The frogs in a certain pond 
 on account of drought in their own locality, determined to 
 emigrate to another and larger body of water in the same 
 
112 REV. n GRACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 town. The inhabitants of the invaded pond, warned of the 
 approaching army, rallied for resistance. The battle was 
 tremendous; thousands were slain. But the clangor of the 
 conflict terril)ly frightened the quiet people of Windham. 
 To their excited imaginations there seemed to be two cries, 
 calling for two opposing leaders in the town : one with a 
 deep base, and funereal gravity, " Colonel Dyer, Colonel 
 Dyer"; the other, piping with an acute soprano, "Elderkin 
 too, Elderkin too." A hearty reconciliation between the rival 
 demagogues immediately followed. 
 
 He distinctly remembers the "Dark Day" of 1780. 
 "From ten o'clock in the morning, and ouAvard," said he, 
 "it was dark enough." Candles were lighted in the houses, 
 and an unearthly gloom reigned without. The night thick- 
 ened into Egyptian darkness. 
 
 Omitting the philosophy, "it was a fact," said he, "that 
 the Northern Lights preceding the Revolutionary War were 
 terrific." Some imagined them armies in the sky, and that 
 they heard the whiz of their fiery weapons. At the time of the 
 total eclipse of 180G, Father AValdo was pastor of a church in 
 Suffield, Conn. In the depths of the shadow, a woman who 
 had neglected to read her almanac seized her children in dis- 
 may, and fled to take sanctuary in Mr. W.'s house. Oji her 
 way thither, the sun began to appear, and this turned the 
 frightened group back to their home. 
 
 Dec. 14, 1773, when the order went forth from the citizens 
 assembled in the Old South Church, ""Boston Harbor a 
 teapot to-night,'''' he was a boy of eleven years. His young 
 heart thrilled with tlie reports from Piunker Hill. His father 
 had seven sons and four daughters; and, when Daniel was 
 sixteen years old, he armed and equipped four of his sons, 
 and sent them to the war. Two of them were surgeons. The 
 mother felt it hard to part with her youngest son. The Cow 
 Boys were a detachment of Tories who annoyed the patriots, 
 and drove off the cattle from the farms of Westchester to 
 support the British camp. While I\Ir. Waldo was standing 
 sentinel near Greenwich, Conn., one rainy night, he was 
 suddenly surrounded by a company of these Cow Boys. 
 
ARTICLES FOR THE PRESS. 113 
 
 While resisting them, one flashed his gun at hira ; but it did 
 not go off. After having surrendered, another pressed his 
 bayonet to his breast, about to run him through. Young 
 Waldo firmly said, '•' I have surrendered as prisoner of war, 
 and I expect protection." His life was spared. Then they 
 attempted to influence him to join the British ranks. This 
 lie repelled with indignation, answering, " / shall ahvays he 
 true to my country.'''' He was marched to New York City, 
 and with five hundred otliers was shut up in the Old Sugar 
 House in Liberty Street, near the middle Dutch Cliuroh, now 
 the post-office. There, without fire, "with just half enough 
 to eat," he remained until prisoners were exchanged, when 
 he returned, sick and emaciated, to Windham. Having 
 recovered his health, he spent the year 1783 in studying with 
 Rev. Dr. Backus of Somers, Conn. In 1784, he entered 
 college — saw " Jimmy Hillhouse " setting out the trees that 
 now arch tlie " City of Elms." . . . 
 
 WHule at New Haven, he heard Dr. Bellamy of Bethle- 
 hem, Conn., preach. Dr. B. was a pupil and intimate friend 
 of President Jonathan Edwards of Northampton, Mass. 
 Mr. Waldo's memory is rich with ministerial anecdotes. 
 Rev. Dr. Samuel Hopkins of Newport was accustomed 
 every year to visit Dr. Bellamy at Bethlehem, just as Dr. 
 Bellamy had visited Rev. Mr. Edwards at Northampton. 
 On one of these occasions, Hopkins, after having settled in 
 his own convictions the question of slavery, said to Dr. 
 Bellamy, "It's wrong for you to keep Pomp a shave." — 
 " Why ? " said Bellamy. " He would not be free if he could." 
 — "Call liim in," said Hopkins. " Pomp, you are kindly cared 
 for ; you do not wish to be free ? " — " Yes, massa," replied 
 the negro with a grin, "me want to be free." ^" Well," says 
 Bellamy with deep earnestness, " from this moment you are 
 
 free." . . . 
 
 The Tliirty-fourth Congress elected Father Waldo their 
 chaplain ; and through 185G and 1857 he served his Master as 
 faithfully in the House of Representatives as seventj^-seven 
 years before he had served his country in tlie field. He 
 preached the funeral sermon of Brooks. 
 
114 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Many a youth in this place will ever remember the Revolu- 
 tionary soldier, the aged minister, who eighty-two years ago 
 enlisted in the defence of liis conntry, and eiyhijj-four years 
 ago enlisted a soldier of tlie cross of Christ, and Avho for 
 seventy-one years has not failed to proclaim His gospel. 
 The discoui-se he delivered in Palmyra last week was quaint, 
 clear, and impressive. It Avas an interesting mon>ent when 
 this venerable man stood before one of our Sabbath-schools, 
 and in the beautiful language of the Thirty-fourth Psalm thus 
 addressed the youth: "Come, ye children, hearken unto 
 me ; I will teach you the fear of the Lord. Wliat man is he 
 that desireth life, and loveth many days, that he may see 
 g-ood? Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speak- 
 ing- guile. Depart from evil, and do good. Seek peace and 
 pursue it." 
 
 Laura. 
 
 Some animals are designed for the companionship and 
 diversion of man. A pet dog, horse, or bird may exhibit 
 such intelligence and affection as to embalm its name and 
 memory in the home and in the lieart. 
 
 When I came to Palmyra in February, 1849, I was warmly 
 frected bv a favorite parrot belonging to Mrs. James E. 
 Walker. The bird lived to be forty-eight years old, and 
 died at the house of her mistress the last year. The sight 
 of the weU-i)reserved though lifeless body elicitetl some inter- 
 esting remembrances. 
 
 Laura -was a true Native American. Dr. Henry Perrine, 
 while United-States consul at Campeaehy, Yucatan, took her, 
 with twelve othere of brilliant Aving, from the groves of the 
 tropics, and sent them nortli. Eleven died of sea-sickness. 
 The lines fell to Laura in a pleasant home in Palmyra, N.Y. 
 She improved her opportunities. She Avas a scholar in Eng- 
 lish. Though Spanisii Avas her mother-tongue, she preferred 
 the language of the people among Avhom she had come to 
 dwell. She learned to speak and sing in English. 
 
 Laura Avas a persistent Democrat. On her arrival north, 
 politics ran high. Clay and Jackson Avere up for the presi- 
 dency. Rev. Jesse Townsend, Avhose sheltering roof the bird 
 
ARTICLES FOR THE PRESS. 115 
 
 enjoyed, Avas a decided Clay man. It would seem that policy, 
 and even gratitude, would have inclined the stranger to agree 
 with so wise a master. We have the choice of two explana- 
 tions : one, that the parrot's principles were so unbending 
 as to overbear all minor considerations, or that she was some- 
 how clandestine!}^ influenced. It was a matter of surprise to 
 the good man of the house when one morning Laura broke 
 out in lusty hurrahs for Jackson. 
 
 Rev. Daniel Waldo, an old college friend of Mr. Townsend, 
 was accustomed to visit at Palmyra, and enjoy the spicy an- 
 noyance as the bird kept up this shout. Many years after 
 the death of Mr. Townsend, when Mr. Waldo was one hun- 
 dred and two years old, he came again to call on the family 
 of his friend. No sooner did the aged form enter the house 
 than Laura, as if remembering persons and scenes long since 
 passed away, resumed her old notes, " Hurrah for Jackson ! " 
 More recently, in the stimulating j^olitical atmosphere of 
 Albany, Laura was urged to change, and hurrah for Grant. 
 She still held on the even tenor of her way, — " Hurrah for 
 Jackson ! " Laura was no weathercock in politics. 
 
 Laura was a popular singer. How many still remember 
 her favorite song, which she was accustomed to render clearly 
 and distinctly, — 
 
 "My pretty bird, it makes me sad 
 To think tliou canst not fiy ; 
 For well I know thou wouldst be glad 
 To see the bright blue sky." 
 
 Laura, though not an epicure, had a decided taste for good 
 living. She never failed to know the cook by name. In 
 good season in the morning she Avould cry, " Bridget, put 
 the breakfast on, Laura Avants her breakfast, Laura loves 
 coffee ! " 
 
 Laura Avas a temperance advocate. When one evidently 
 not an abstainer came in to hear her sing, she greeted him 
 Avith nothing save the pointed rebuke, "Let drunkards bcAvare, 
 and of tippling take care." 
 
 Laura made her songs contribute to Avholesome industry. 
 She sung nothing Avith more readiness than the good old 
 words of Watts : — 
 
116 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 " How doth the little busy bee 
 Improve each shining hour, 
 And gather honey all the day 
 From every opening flower ! " 
 
 Laura kept the Sabbath. She refrained from walking 
 abroad. She Laid aside her usual secular songs, and, if any 
 thing, she would say, "jNIagnify and praise the Lord." 
 
 Toward the close of life she grew feeble. The last word 
 she ever uttered was, " Good-by." 
 
 The following letter was written while spending a summer vacation at 
 the old homestead of his valued friend, the late Mrs. C. B. Hatch. 
 
 The Shipmaster's Garret. 
 
 Nantucket, Mass., Aug. 18, 1877. 
 
 My recollections of the old garret of ni}' boyhood are not 
 pleasing. There, on rainy days, I used to shell corn, grind- 
 ing the ear against the handle of the frying-pan. The garret 
 of oiu- old home was a kind of a " Botany Bay," where we 
 cast old iron and old shoes. But the shipmaster's garret of 
 Nantucket was an ark, a treasure-house of sacred memorials 
 of men and times long gone by. The house of my kind host 
 in Nantucket is sj^acious, and strong with the native oak. It 
 is one hundred and thirty years old. It is twenty-nine years 
 older than the nation. This shipmaster's garret tells of tvars 
 and rumors of wars. It was built in the stormy times when 
 France and England were in conflict over the interests of 
 their American Colonies. Nantucket was far out from the 
 mainland, exposed to the invasions of the French in the time 
 of their war, and again to those of the British in the time of 
 the Revolution. This garret was arranged to meet these 
 exigencies. A trap-door recently discovered conducts, by a 
 narrow, steep stairway, to a secret vault, where were placed 
 the hidden treasures. Recesses also, \nider the eaves, were 
 constructed to evade the search of the enemy. 
 
 This shipmaster's garret also tells of wrecks and disasters 
 in distant climes. That old oaken chest, bound with iron, 
 bruised, not broken, with lock and fastenings that no inge- 
 nuity or violence has overcome, — that strong oaken box 
 was the companion of the father, the son, and the grantlson 
 
ARTICLES FOR THE PRESS. 117 
 
 through wastes of waters to barbarian shores, to rivers un- 
 known to song. Sermons, poetry, power, cleave to that old 
 box in the garret. 
 
 But this old garret holds the history of hearts. The last 
 master who hung up his trophies in this sacred receptacle 
 had an only child, a daughter who died at the age of twelve. 
 Like the brave old Jephthah, he bore this only daughter on 
 his heart as lie went to, and returned from, the field of con- 
 flict. When long calms at sea lay upon him, his leisure whit- 
 tlings were intwined with thoughts of affection for his child. 
 He remembered her early years ; he looked forward with 
 bright expectations to her future. When far away in the 
 Arctics, he planned for her an ingenious toilet-box. With his 
 own hand he inlaid it with ivory, tortoise, muther-of-pearl, 
 and anticipated the time when he should present it as the 
 token of his affection when far from home. But a message 
 brouglit to him the sad news that his darling awaited his 
 return in her early grave. How the brave heart lost its 
 courage, the rigid hand forgot its cunning and the exquisite 
 work that so long had drawn his tender thoughts from dis- 
 tant solitudes towards his own home, to this day remains 
 unfinished in the garret of the old shipmaster. His pur- 
 poses were " broken off, even the designs of his heart." A 
 wreath of brilliant and unfading fiowers, woven of the plum- 
 age of the soutli-sea birds, and other memorials brought from 
 the ends of the earth to please and adorn the only child and 
 daugliter, are still found in the shipmaster's garret. 
 
 From the garret there is an easy ascent to the observatory 
 on the house-top, which arrangement subserved the tenderest 
 feelings of the master and his family as he left his home on 
 his long and dangerous voyage. When the wife and the 
 children had attended the husband and father to the ship, 
 and when they had " fallen upon his neck and kissed him," 
 tliey hastened back to the house-top to vibrate glances and 
 exchange signals till house and ship respectively faded from 
 their eyes. From the same house-top the return of the hero 
 was welcomed as he entered the harbor with the rewards of 
 his perils, labors, and sacrifices. 
 
118 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Prepare to Guard ! Dec. 2-i, 1869. 
 
 Where our canal has given way, we arc accustomed to set 
 double support. We strengthen the embankment with addi- 
 tional stone and earth. We look out for danger. The Duke 
 of Wellington, during the Peninsular war, heard that a large 
 magazine of wine lay on his line of march. He saw that 
 there was moie peril to his men from these barrels of wine 
 than from batteries of cannon, and at once despatched a body 
 of troops to knock every wine-barrel in the head. 
 
 Along the march of life there are points of danger. Judg- 
 ing from the past, we have reason to fear that a break, a 
 crevasse, will be made in some one's character and virtue 
 during the coming season of Christmas and New Year's. 
 Forewarned, we may be forearmed, and pass the point in 
 safety. We would not cast the slightest shade upon the 
 cheerfulness and exhilaration, fitted to give health to the 
 body, and tone to the mind. At the right time the Hash, 
 the sally, the hearty laugh, will do no hurt, but rather blow 
 the dust, and sweep the cobwebs, from the sombre mind. 
 True cheerfulness is the growth of innocence, of an approv- 
 ing conscience, and good-will to all. But to celebrate with 
 gladness the Saviour's birth, what need of the "wme and the 
 zvassaiV of a heathen and a drunken age? The first Christ- 
 mas carol on the plains of Bethlehem was inspired b}^ no such 
 unhallowed fire, and needs none to send it down the ages. 
 
 Nor is Neic-Years Day the time to sink the man in the 
 beast, but the moment to rise to a higher level and a higher 
 life. To how many has this been a meridian of light, when 
 they started on a career upward, that has grown brighter and 
 brighter ! How many remember it with regret ! Then 
 temptation prevailed. On that day they took the first, the 
 fatal glass. Ah, the cost of the first New Year's sjiree ! 
 Blasting lit on character, rei)utation, prospects. Then fol- 
 lowed shame, remorse, recoil from the presence of the virtu- 
 ous and the pure, — a father's grief, a mother's tears. 
 
 We ask the tempter and the tempted, Will such an abuse 
 of Christmas and New Year's pay? 
 
ARTICLES FOR THE PRESS. 119 
 
 Extracts from the one hundredth anniversary of Dartmouth College. 
 By a graduate of 1839. 
 
 . . . Other teachers, in long succession, have ceased from 
 their labors. But the outline, aspects, and spirit of Nature, 
 still greet the former graduate, and recut in his memory the 
 lines of happier years. 
 
 But I must not forget the century-tree^ which stands an 
 emerald gem in the landscape of Dartmouth. The charity 
 that projected this institution was touched by the condition 
 of the fugitive children of the forest. It would follow them 
 into their own wilderness home. The feeling was well 
 engraven into the seal of the institution — " Vox clamantis 
 in deserto " ("The voice of one crying in the Mdlderness"). 
 Among the early scholars was many a youthful red man. 
 Three young Indians about to graduate were accustomed to 
 meet under the shadow of a small pine-tree, back of the 
 college wall, and sing the touching sentiments of the hymn, 
 composed by one of their number :^ — 
 
 When shall we three meet again ! 
 "When shall we three meet again ! 
 Oft shall glowing hope expire, 
 Oft shall wearied love retire, 
 Oft shall death and sorrow reign. 
 Ere we three shall meet again. 
 
 When our burnished locks are gray, 
 Tliinned by many a toil-spent day. 
 When around this youthful pine 
 Moss shall creep, and ivy twine, 
 Long may this loved bower remain. 
 Here may we three meet again. 
 
 This early incident has lent enchantment to the spot, and 
 it is a j^leasing feature of every graduating class, that they 
 gather about this century-pine to sing their parting hymn. 
 
 When the sons of Dartmouth, after their long absence, 
 had reviewed what Avas permanent and what was changed 
 in the scenery around, you would see them thronging along 
 the avenues to the old lecture-halls, or looking in upon the 
 
 ^ Kev. Sampson Occum, author of " Awaked by Sinai's awful sound." 
 
120 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 rooms tlie}^ once occupied. Who did not remember the 
 freshman recitation-room, the first meeting of the cLass, 
 ^he first lesson ! The phicc snggestcd the name, the look, 
 of every member. Indeed, so vivid was the past, it took 
 a moment's reflection to realize that the scene lay thirty 
 years ago. 
 
 But sadness shaded every cheek as our former professors 
 came not with us. It was evident the prophet did not speak 
 to us., " Though the Lord give you the bread of adversity 
 and the water of affliction, yet shall not thy teachers be 
 removed into a corner, but thine eyes shall behold thy 
 teachers." Still we were permitted the grateful sight of Dr. 
 Lord, our venerable ex-president, whom we remembered as 
 a father. His health permitted him only to bow to us from 
 the window of his sick-chamber. 
 
 . . . But, of all the interest awakened at this reunion, 
 class-feeling and class-affinity were most intense. Hence, on 
 the general current of excitement, you would see eddies 
 wliirling off one side or the other, — circles formed with a 
 four-years' radius. Go into the chapel or recitation-rooms, 
 and vou would find a remnant of some one of the fifty or 
 sixty classes, formed into a knot of delighted listeners, Avcep- 
 ing or laughing as some one of their number told of "the 
 times that had gone over him." 
 
 I was especially interested in the class-meeting of 1839. 
 Judge Dana of Concord had provided himself with a terse 
 and well-written obituary of every deceased classmate. With 
 a genuine enthusiasm, he had summoned the living from far 
 and near. Thirty years had sped since sixty-two young men 
 went from these halls to the arena of life. Twenty-three 
 obeyed the call to return, and were present af the moment 
 and place appointed. When we came to look one another in 
 the face, it was evident we were no longer young. And, as 
 each was to find out the name of his fellow without an intro- 
 duction, you would see two robust men holding each other 
 by the hand till they were ashamed. And yet neither could 
 catch from the other the key of his identity. By and by the 
 brown hue, the deep wrinkle, the gray hair, would cleave off. 
 
ARTICLES FOR THE PRESS. 121 
 
 The blink of the eye, the j^outhful expression, the lithe form, 
 would steal back. Then came the recognition, the embrace, 
 the tear, the laugh. When these masks, that time had fixed 
 upon us, Avere torn off, and we were convinced we were the 
 same fellows our names indicated, we sat down together to 
 an evening repast. After this, began "the feast of reason 
 and tlie flow of soul." This, I think, was the first time that 
 any social entertainment ever beguiled me of the entire night. 
 But, as we began our session, the sun gilded our faces with 
 its setting beams, and its morning rays smiled in upon our 
 continued deliberations. We had been close friends, long 
 separated, — had come great distances. It was our last 
 meeting. There was much to say. It was a night long to 
 be remembered. 
 
 Thirty years had nourished and developed the seeds sown 
 in our academic course. Before we first separated from 
 these ancient halls, one of our number, a true seer, had 
 drawn out what, according to his forecast, would be the 
 future of each of his fellows. With some little pruning, and 
 transposition of the oracle, the review not only proved the 
 author actualized as a judge, but, like Samuel, vindicated as 
 a prophet. According to the prediction, some had attained 
 wealth and eminence in the legal and medical professions. 
 Others had proved themselves leaders in political life. One 
 had been an ambassador to a foreign court. Some were pro- 
 fessors and teachers, — one a president of a college. Seven- 
 teen had been attracted by the self-denials, duties, and 
 rewards of the gospel ministry. With sad and pensive hearts 
 we listened to the obituaries of twentj^-one who had passed 
 the bourne from which no thirtieth or hundredth anniversary 
 could ever call them back — twenty-one hearts, once warm 
 with youthful enthusiasm, now chilled in death ! 
 
 " Death lies on them like an untimely frost." 
 
 Beside these narratives read by the chairman, short and 
 tender recollections of others closed the sad memorial. Re- 
 grets at the absence of eighteen brothers were modified by 
 the letters they substituted for their presence. These were 
 
122 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 weio-lity with sentiments of attachment to the chiss and 
 college. The reading of these, with additional intelligence 
 from those present, formed a pleasant chapter of tlie inter- 
 view, from which we passed to the viva voce relations of 
 those of the twenty-three who were on the ground. Con- 
 trast added to the rhetoric. Lights and shades, successes 
 and reverses, victories and defeats, incidents mournful and 
 mirthful, wove with lively shuttle the variegated web of our 
 thirty-years' history. 
 
 Impressive were the silent thoughts at the close. Whose 
 name is next to be starred? Who will survive the next 
 thirty years? Where shall we be when Dartmouth has her 
 second centennial? 
 
 Those who could, joined in the hymn " Blest be the tie 
 that binds." The benediction was pronounced, and each 
 went his way. 
 
 But the fine frenzy of the class spirit readily expanded into 
 the wider circle of college life and sympathy. One thousand 
 of the sons of Dartmouth had heard the inviting voice of the 
 endeared mother of us all. The aged and the youthful 
 alumnus had been cherished on the same ground, by the 
 same care. Each had gone the same round of studies, sat in 
 the same recitation-rooms, obeyed the same bell, gathered in 
 the same chapel and sanctuary. We had been out to prove 
 our armor, and were now looking back over the dust and 
 smoke of the battle. We understood each other perfectly. 
 " As face answereth to face in water, so the heart of man to 
 man." 
 
 The chairman of the alumni was the chief justice of the 
 United States. After a genial and felicitous welcome from 
 President Smith, Dr. Brown, President of Hamilton College, 
 presented a racy and comprehensive history of Dartmouth 
 from its founding. Then followed able discussions by distin- 
 guished graduates. The relation of the college to law, to 
 the State, to science, literature, theology, were some of the 
 themes fit and profitable for the occasion. 
 
 The next day, Tluirsday, came the exercises of the gradu- 
 ating class. To many present, this was suggestive of an 
 
ARTICLES FOR THE PRESS. 123 
 
 interesting day in their own experience. Thirty years had 
 brought not only new speakers, but a new audience. Wliere 
 were tlie president, professors, trustees, of our day? Wliere 
 the distinguished visitors? Where the sharp profile of Isaac 
 Hill, the eloquent brow of Rufus Choate, the great eyes of 
 Daniel Webster ? 
 
 Impressive reflections could but arise from the review of 
 one hundred years. Humble hc<jinnings may increase to great 
 results. God's greatest works grow out of little seeds. The 
 oak of a hundred winters, that has struck its roots in the 
 place of stones, and tosses its branches to the storms, began 
 its life in the buried acorn. The majestic river, on whose 
 bosom is floated the commerce of the nation, has its head- 
 spring in the weeping crevice far up the mountain gorge. 
 Dartmouth College was a germ planted in the wilderness; 
 but it was a living seed. Ebenezer Wheelock was an ob- 
 scure pastor in Lebanon, Conn., a close friend of President 
 Edwards. His salary was small, and poorly paid. To eke 
 out a precarious support, in 1754 he opened a family school 
 for boys. Joshua Moore, a farmer of Mansfield, Conn., gave 
 the school a small house and two acres of land. Among the 
 early pupils was Sampson Occum, a young Indian of the 
 Mohegan tribe. He became eminent as a missionary and 
 preacher. In 176G he went abroad to solicit funds for 
 Moore's Indian Charity School. The good people of England 
 and Scotland were glad to see such a specimen of the sons of 
 the forest. He preached to large audiences. He dined with 
 the King, and received from him two hundred pounds. He 
 collected in all seven thousand pounds. 
 
 This encouraged Dr. Wheelock to change his base, and 
 enlarge the place of his tent. Through the influence of 
 John Wentworth, provincial governor of New Hampshire, he 
 removed the school into the deep wilderness, on the banks 
 of the Connecticut. Dr. Wheelock records in his journal : 
 "I built a hut of logs, about eighteen feet square, Avithout 
 stone, or brick, or glass, or nails." This was the first presi- 
 dential mansion. In September the family of Dr. Wheelock 
 were borne to the new settlement, and thirty students fol- 
 
124 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 lowed, one Inmdred and seventy miles, on foot. "Again," 
 says the first })iesident, "I housed myself, with my wife and 
 the other females of my family, in my hut. My sons and 
 students made booths of hemlock-boughs; and in this situa- 
 tion we continued about a luonth, till the 29th of October, 
 when I removed into my log-house. Soon two saw-mills 
 were built and driven by students, often working the live- 
 long night to earn money to defray their expenses. Some 
 drove a cow, and brought corn from home, that they might 
 have bread and milk. Daniel Webster said he came to 
 Dartmouth in a homespun suit of indigo-blue. Exposed to 
 drenching rains, he too was dyed from head to foot. This 
 was ever the favorite color of his dress. 
 
 The first Commencement was in August, 1771. Four 
 students graduated, one of whom wrote a poem, which closes 
 with the following lines : — 
 
 " Thus Dartnioutli, happy in her sylvan seat, 
 Drinks the pure pleasures of her fair retreat; 
 Her songs of praise in notes melodious rise, 
 Like clouds of incense, to the listening skies; 
 Her God protects her with paternal care, 
 From ills destructive and each fatal snare ; 
 And may He still protect, and she adore. 
 Till heaven and earth and time shall be no more." 
 
 The review of one hundred years can but excite the excla- 
 mation, "What hath God wrought! A little one has become 
 a thousand, and a small one a strong nation." 
 
 We have also in this review an illustration of tlie text, 
 " Thet/ who honor me I will honor.'" The beginnings of 
 Dartmouth College were too obscure to invite the patronage 
 of the proud. It grcAv by their neglect. An obscure minis- 
 ter of Jesus, inspired by love of the children of the forest, 
 conceived the thought. In the charter I read, "The college 
 was founded for the spread of the knowledge of the great 
 Redeemer among the Indian tribes, for the education of 
 Indian and English youth." With the very oi)ening, this 
 institution received the smile of Heaven. The Holy Spirit 
 put His seal upon the first classes and the surrounding fami- 
 
ARTICLES FOR THE PRESS. 125 
 
 lies. In 1773 the president writes, " That wliich crowns all 
 is the manifest tokens of the gracious presence of God. Such 
 contentment and joy reign in the college, that no govern- 
 ment seems necessary. All are diligent and orderly. For 
 three years, I have not heard a profane word spoken, neither 
 have I reason to think there has been one spoken." The 
 erection and administration of this institution has been to 
 invite the presence and blessing of the Divine Spirit. Multi- 
 tudes of young men earnest for human learning have here 
 been made wise unto salvation. Men like Dr. Porter of 
 Catskill, the judicious and indefatigable Dr. Hyde of Lee, 
 Spaulding of Ceylon, Goodell and Temple, and others in 
 different spheres, have been instrumental of conducting to 
 eternal glory a great throng of redeemed men in many lands. 
 Go and gaze upon the humble slab of the first president. 
 In the midst of his self-denying labors, he said, " It is my 
 purpose, by the grace of God, to leave nothing undone." 
 Look now at the harvest of the little seed he sowed in the 
 wilderness. . . . 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ' LAST TEN YEARS OF THE PASTORATE AT PALJIYRA. 
 
 1S69-1879. 
 
 TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY OF SETTLEMENT IN PAKNIYRA. 
 
 — TRAVELS IN THE EAST. LECTURE. — INFLUENCE OF 
 
 MOHAMMEDANISM UPON EDUCATION. — LETTERS. 
 
 The twenty-fifth anniversary of Dr. Eaton's .settlement in PalmjTa 
 was celebrated Feb. 5, 1874. We regret that want of space compels a 
 mere reference to so happy an occasion. Nothing was left undone that 
 affection, taste, and the noblest generosity could devise, to make the day 
 one long to be remembered with the sincerest gratitude by the pastor 
 and his family. 
 
 From the '' 'Wayne County Journal " of Feb. 12, 1S74, we glean the 
 following : — 
 
 " The expiration of twenty-five years of Dr. Eaton's pastorate over the 
 Presbyterian Church of Palmyra is an event so memorable in the religious 
 history of this community, that an extended reference to the same, it is 
 believed, will gratify our readers. 
 
 "An additional interest is added to the event by the departnre of Dr. 
 Eaton upon a tour of Egypt and the Holy Land, to be of several months' 
 duration. 
 
 " At the last Sunday evening service before leaving, he referred to his 
 intended journey, saying, that, at the suggestion of friends, he had 
 carefully considered the matter, and had finally concluded to make the 
 trip ; that he was not sick ; he was thankful to his Master that his 
 health was good. He thought the journey would refresh and help him, 
 would give him new thoughts, new subjects and illustrations, and that 
 he would return a more useful pastor to the church with which he was 
 connected. In closing the sermon, which was one of great interest, he 
 requested the prayers of the people for himself, and their liearty co-opera- 
 tion with the young preacher ^ who was to supply the church during his 
 absence, and aslced tliat his congregation constitute themselves, so to 
 speak, a committee of the wliole, to watch over the spiritual interests of 
 
 1 Rev. L. H. Morey. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 127 
 
 his charge. He commended to their kindness the sick of the congregation, 
 the young people's meetings, and the Sabbath-school, with great tender- 
 ness, closing the service with those beautiful words of benediction : 
 * The Lord bless thee and keep thee. The Lord make His face shine 
 upon thee, and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up His countenance 
 upon thee, and give thee peace.' . . . 
 
 " The exercises of Thursday occupied the entire afternoon and evening. 
 A. P. Crandall, Esq., was the presiding officer. Invocation by Rev. H. 
 Wheat of the Baptist Church, reading of Scripture by Rev. J. G. 
 AV'ebster of the Episcopal Church, prayer by Rev. B. 11. Brown of the 
 Methodist Church, reading of letters from invited friends by H. R. 
 Durfee, Esq., address of congratulation by G. G. Jessup, Esq., reply 
 by Dr. Eaton. Special presentations were then made to the pastor by 
 Messrs. M. B. Riggs, F. Williams, and S. B. Mclntyre, Esq. Dr. Eaton 
 briefly returned thanks for these many evidences of affectionate regard. 
 Addresses followed by Rev. F. A. Spencer, an old classmate. Rev. W. L. 
 Page of Wolcott, Rev. J. Butler of Fairport, Rev. Dr. J. S. Bacon of 
 Corning, Professor Boyd of Geneva, and Rev. Dr. J. R. Page of Roches- 
 ter. Mr. W. S. Scolield had charge of the music. Under the magical 
 touch of the ladies of the congregation, the interior of the church was 
 made to blossom like the summer time, notwithstanding the snow of 
 winter lay without. The mottoes were significant and touching; the 
 collation in the evening choice and abundant. 
 
 " About ten o'clock Dr. Eaton retired from the company. The mid- 
 night train bore him to New York ; and never did a person leave this 
 station with such an immense amount of uncheckable baggage as the 
 doctor : it consisted principally of blessings, tearful good-bys, and God- 
 speed-you's. 
 
 "A friend writes us from New York, ' I saw Dr. Eaton leave pier No. 
 20, North River, yesterday. As the steamer left the dock, he recognized 
 me, and raising his hat said, " Good-by, Palmyra." His last thoughts 
 were of his home, and his last word on this side of the ocean, Palmyra.' " 
 " Speed thee, pastor, on thy way 
 To the land the Saviour trod ; 
 Speed thee on o'er land and main, 
 'Neath the banner of our God. 
 
 " He will cover thee with wings, 
 
 And ' His truth shall be thy shield,' — 
 Truth which thou hast long declared, 
 And shalt still in conquest wield. 
 
 " He will be thy sure defence, 
 
 And thy pathway hedge about, 
 
128 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Yea, preserve thy coming-in, 
 Even as thy going-out." ^ 
 
 Although the footprints of travel are now everywhere well worn, we 
 introduce a few letters and extracts from lectures. 
 
 Snip Califorxia, Feb. 13, 1874. 
 50^ North Latitude. One thousand miles from Glasgow. 
 
 Boat cold Jis a liulk, deck covered with snow, air fall of 
 frost, harbor full of ice ; but kind hearts and faces cheered 
 me as I moved away from my native shore. The chill winds 
 and breaking waves of Saturday were a poor preparation for 
 the Sabbath day. I did not say, " Blot the day from the 
 calendar," — that cannot be done, — peculiar worship : the 
 naked deck ; old ocean the preacher ; hymns by the moaning 
 winds; gulls, a vacant, hungry audience; my first Sabbath at 
 sea a strange day ; my first meal Monday evening. Away 
 with all vapors of food, away with the call of the bell : they 
 were an offence to the soul. 
 
 But the cold as we climbed to the frozen north, the night 
 we spent in the field of Labrador ice, the gale that lashed 
 the ocean into a foaming fury, — these have shown me the 
 rough side of an ocean voyage. . . . 
 
 I have found Christ with me in the ship. The nights have 
 
 been terrible, but all the more profitable. My health and 
 
 spirits are good, and I hope to make the most of every 
 
 opportunity. The missionary company are very congenial. 
 
 We have worship every day. The captain and officers are 
 
 courteous. The ship is a gem of the sea. She is true. To 
 
 me she has a blessed personality. I trust her and the Great 
 
 Master. . . . 
 
 Paris, Feb. 23, 1874. 
 
 My dear Wife, — Saturday, in the forenoon, I came to 
 Paris. . . . Awoke yesterday morning, and as I looked I 
 inquired if I had forgotten the day of the week. Men were 
 at their games, pleasure, work, just as though God had not 
 said, " Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy.". . . This 
 Paris is a mystery, — churches forsaken, theatres crowded on 
 
 1 By C. B. Botsford, a parishioner of Dr. Eaton in 1852-53. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 129 
 
 the Sabbath, pleasure the divinity, God entirely ignored, and 
 
 yet for beauty and splendor surpassing all places of the 
 
 earth. , . . 
 
 Naples, March 5, 1874. 
 
 Deak young Friends of the Sabbath-school, — It 
 is just one month since you so generously sent me on my 
 journey. I am now more than five thousand miles from 
 home. I gratefully acknowledge the good hand of God 
 that has granted me health, and kept me from harm. I 
 have crossed the ocean, passed from Glasgow to London, 
 from London to Paris, from Paris to Florence, from Florence 
 to Rome, and from Rome to this place. My journey has 
 been so rapid, I have been so eager to see and save what I 
 could while on the ground, that I have found little time to 
 write letters home. I will snatch a moment tliis morning, 
 before I go to Pompeii and Herculaneum, and climb to Vesu- 
 vius, to tell you where I am. I was a little more than four 
 days in Rome. I cannot say as Caesar, "I came, I saw, I 
 conquered ; " but I can say, " I saw all I could." 
 
 We think a house old that was built a hundred years ago. 
 You cannot find such a house in Wayne County. But in 
 Rome a house is among the new structures if it cannot num- 
 ber three, four, or six hundred years. St. Peter's Church 
 was thirteen hundred years in building, and was consecrated 
 more than two hundred years ago ; but that is not old. The 
 aqueduct that Cladius built commands some respect for its 
 age. The Roman palace where Paul was condemned, the 
 house he hired, the wall that Trajan built, still more the pil- 
 lars brought from Egypt, and the wall of Romulus, — these 
 have the moss that excited our wonder. I rode to the city 
 and bay of Puteoli, where Paul left shipboard for the Appian 
 Way when taken as a prisoner to Rome, (Acts 28 : 13, 14). 
 Here I could see the harbor he entered and the road he trav- 
 eled. "At Puteoli he found brethren who desired him to 
 tarry with them seven days." Near tliis bay are still seen 
 the remains of an old volcano, also the ruins of splendid 
 temples of Jupiter, Diana, Mercury, and Venus, a villa of 
 Cicero, a palace of Julius Ceesar ; and a vast amphitheatre, 
 
180 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 where wild beasts fought with gladiators, and devoured Chris- 
 tians. These were all in their glory Avhen Paul the prisoner 
 sojourned a week among his poor brethren at Puteoli and 
 Naples, lie heard the rumblings, and beheld the glare, of 
 these volcanoes. He viewed the residences of the great men 
 of ancient Rome. He saw the multitudes "wholly given to 
 idolatry." Perhaps he looked in upon the temples, the ruins 
 of which aAvaken my admiration. He heard the scream of 
 the multitude, the growl of the lion, as human sacrilices 
 " made a Roman holiday " in the amphitheatre at Puteoli. 
 He felt the beauty and magnificence of Nature, as they com- 
 bine and intensify around this Bay of Naples. I Avill, if pos- 
 sible, Avrite you from Alexandria, for which I soon sail from 
 this port. Yours gratefully, 
 
 HoKACE Eaton. 
 
 At Sea, off " the coast of Libya, about Cyrene," March 12, 1874. 
 
 My dear Wife, — Until to-day I had not entirely escaped 
 the cold weather that pursued me across the Atlantic. Even 
 at Rome and Naples I suffered from a raw and unpleasant 
 wind. But now I find myself in an African clime, and a 
 bland June morning smiles upon a sea of glass. Last even- 
 ing the sun retired to rest in robes of the purest gold. I 
 saw him rise in the same habiliments unsoiled. While I 
 listen to the noisy jabber of the Italians all around me, to 
 the conversation of a family of Arabs, to the French and 
 Germans in their turn, and find myself shut up to a few 
 English friends, I realize more than ever how great was the 
 confusion of tongues visited at Babel. But, if I must be 
 confined to one language, I am glad it is English. . . . 
 
 We passed along the straits between Sicily and the niain- 
 laiul, and noticed Syracuse, where Paul remained three days, 
 and also, on the other hand, Rhegium, where he stopped for a 
 time. We have coasted along the shore of Crete, wliere at 
 least four places are noted in Paul's voyage. Indeed, the 
 name, travels, and suffering of the great apostle, add a tinge 
 of interest to the skies above and to the deep beneath, to 
 the mountains he looked upon, to the towns where he labored. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 131 
 
 and the prisons where he suffered. Consider the influence of 
 one great and good man. He has left his mark, not merely 
 on innumerable living hearts, but a charm on the very fields 
 of Nature where he moved. Voyagers through the Mediter- 
 ranean Sea should not forget the name of Paul. 
 
 Cairo, Egypt, March 15, 1874. 
 
 . . . Saturday, at two in the afternoon, we took the cars for 
 Cairo. No traveler can afford to pass over this road in the 
 night, or with his eyes shut. The railway at first was nearly 
 parallel with the canal. I saw a boat gliding along up stream, 
 drawn by neither horses, steam, nor wind. " What," I said, 
 "urges that craft along?" Said my fellow-traveler, "Do 
 you not see those two Arabs ahead on the tow-path?" Then 
 I learned that men did the work on this canal that horses do 
 on ours. There were fields of leeks and onions, and I remem- 
 bered those for which the Egyptians longed. The method of 
 raising water by a wheel turned by the foot cleared up the 
 word of Moses : " Thou waterest the land by thy foot." 
 
 We came at length to the east branch of the Nile. I con- 
 fess to a thrill of uncommon interest as I looked upon that 
 ancient river. I cannot describe the mud-walled houses and 
 mud-walled villages we j^assed, the sights and sounds as the 
 evening shadows, falling on the landscape, called the laborers, 
 and their donkeys, oxen, and camels, home from their work, 
 and the shepherds, with sheep and goats mixed together, back 
 to their folds. I cannot describe the tall and feathery-crowned 
 palm-trees that adorn the liabitations of the rich, or stand 
 singly against the sky. All is Oriental, and suggestive of 
 years and nations long gone by. I am reading the lines of 
 the Arab character. There is mind, strength ; but they are 
 idle, sluggish. They will ride upon a poor donkey when 
 they ought to go afoot and carry the load themselves. They 
 lie stretched along the mud walls, and talk and smoke, and 
 smoke and talk. ... I tried to keep the Sabbath yesterday. 
 But oh, these Eastern cities ! I ought to fear for myself, for 
 the fear of God is not in this place. I found a Protestant 
 chapel, where I enjoyed the reading of the Word and the 
 
132 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 worship of the Lord God of Israel under the shadow of the 
 mosque, and surrounded by all kinds of profanity. But 
 Egypt I how full of all that illustrates the Bible and the 
 providence of God ! . . . 
 
 From a familiar lecture on Egj^pt. 
 
 Five days from Naples, and thirty-five from New York, 
 brought me to the coast of Africa. When eighteen miles 
 from Alexandria, the word " Land ! " from the lips of Bayard 
 Taylor, summoned all on deck. The memory and the eye 
 of that practiced traveler outran all others as we eagerly 
 gazed toward the low and sunken coast. Soon, however, a 
 speck was seen in the distant horizon. It proved the top of 
 Pompey's Pillar ; after this appeared the liglithouse standing 
 upon the spot of the ancient Pharos, then Cleopatra's Needle, 
 then forty windmills to the right, stretching along the Libyan 
 shore, and fniuUy the whole city of Alexandria rising out of 
 the sea. A few miles from port v/e were met by the pilot, 
 an athletic Arab, and his servant. Soon he Avas alongside, 
 then on deck, then at the helm. He was the first full-grown 
 Arab I had ever seen. He guided us through a difficult pas- 
 sacje to the harbor. Then came the din of voices and the 
 babel of tongues, and a strife and violence among the boat- 
 men, wliich threatened to scatter our baggage, and tear us 
 limb from limb. But, in the moment of our confusion and 
 peril, the captain appeared, beating and breaking his way 
 among the invaders, driving them down the sides of the ship, 
 and handing us over for protection to tlie agents appointed 
 to conduct us to the Hotel De I'Europe. When on shore, 
 we were in anotlier melee. Shaved donkeys, half-naked 
 drivers, burdened camels, crowded bazaars, shoemakers' shops, 
 blacksmiths' shops, all kinds of trades carried on in the street 
 or in small rooms without doors, tliat open into the street, — 
 so new, Oi'iental, dismal, all this, that I felt the word of the 
 Psalmist, " Woe is me that I sojourn in Mesech, and dwell in 
 the tents of Kedar." Kedar was one of the sons of Ishmael. 
 Like David, I was with the Arabs, the sons of Ishmael. It 
 is the surprised thought of the traveler, Is this " the land of 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST, 183 
 
 the East, tlio clime of the sun " ? — this the spot which the 
 great Macedonian general and Napoleon I. pronounced the 
 centre of Eastern commerce ? Did the learning of the world 
 here shed her mild and hallowed rays, and treasure the lore 
 in libraries, the wonder of the world ? Was this the city of 
 fashion where Cleopatra conquered her victors, and by sui- 
 cide ended her brilliant infamy ? Was this the seat of Chris- 
 tian schools and Christian philosophy? the birthplace of the 
 eloquent Apollos? and in more recent times was it near 
 this place that Nelson achieved the victory of the Nile, and 
 gave to England dominion of the sea and of the empire of 
 the East? But a view of our own stars and stripes flying at 
 masthead in the harbor, a walk in the European quarter of 
 the city, where Englishmen and Germans hold up the light 
 of civilization, a visit to the missionary schools, to Christian 
 churches, availed greatly to allay the wildness of the scene. . . . 
 
 Egypt is the strangest countrj^ on earth. It has wonder- 
 ful protection from the two great deserts. A chain of moun- 
 tains is a wall, on either side, against the sand-storms that 
 sweep the deserts on the east and the west. These protect- 
 ing ranges crowd upon a long and narrow valley, some eight 
 hundred miles in length, and on an average not more than 
 seven wide. 
 
 Egypt is peculiar in its soil. The alluvial soil of most 
 countries is formed by the growth and decay of vegetation 
 on the spot ; but that of Egyj)t is robbed from the interior 
 of Africa. These fertile acres come over the cataracts. The 
 hand of man has never replenished them with any fertilizing 
 material. They receive yearly an enriching substance from 
 the Nile. 
 
 The river of Egypt is the strangest in the world. The 
 streams of other countries are fed by the lands through 
 which they pass ; but the Nile brings its watery treasures 
 from afar. "It gives, but borrows none." For a thousand 
 miles it has not a tributary ; but on either side there are 
 multitudes of channels drawing from its enriching fountains. 
 It brings down more from its head-springs than it pours into 
 the sea. It is wonderful for the delicious beverage which it 
 
134 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 affords for man and beast. It is liquid healtli. Says Mr. 
 Thomas Cook, the veteran traveler, " The water of the Nile 
 is the best I ever drank. The Khedive of Egj-pt, when he 
 visited Europe, carried it with him by the caskful. There 
 is no necessity for spirituous liquor in Egypt." " What ! " 
 said a Roman veteran to his legions, "Avhat! crave you 
 wine, and have the water of the Nile to drink ! " 
 
 The agriculture of Egypt is remarkable. It is a land with- 
 out rain. Were it not for the Nile, its fields would be like 
 the neighboring wastes. The river fills the larger channels, 
 and the larger the smaller, and so the water flows from one 
 to another till the little rills, the trickling drops, come to 
 every blade of grass, every spire of wheat. The Nile spreads 
 greenness over the whole country. From the Nile are the 
 full granaries : '^ Fat kine go up out of the river." Herds 
 of cattle, flocks of sheep, hundreds of horses, feed in the 
 valley watered by the Nile. The periodic overflow of the 
 Nile is a yearly miracle. By its dominion of a hundred days, 
 the reservoirs are filled, the soil dressed anew. At the cata- 
 racts it rises forty feet, at Cairo twenty-five, at the mouth 
 four. How wonderful "the balancing of the clouds" on the 
 mountains in the interior of Africa, to secure to Egypt this 
 yearly gift with such certainty and accuracy ! 
 
 Egypt is marvelous for its relics of antiquity. She is the 
 very mother of Paganism, the fruitful parent of idolatries, 
 and from the very nature of her climate she has proved the 
 safest receptacle for the records and memorials of the old 
 monarchies. Time has two teeth by which he etches away 
 the works of men, — moisture and frost. Neither of these 
 are found in Egypt. The depositories there have preserved 
 for five thousand years the writings, images, paintings, of the 
 ancients, their stone pyramids and sculptured marbles. The 
 learning of the world is now intent upon exhuming, exca- 
 vating, translating, the treasures from the mummy-pits and 
 buried temples of Egypt. Acres of the papyrus scrolls 
 remain untranslated. The traveler can but notice the differ- 
 ence between the statues of the Greeks and those of the 
 Egyptians. The modern Greek is the same handsome crea- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 
 
 135 
 
 ture that he was in the time of the Venus de Medici or 
 Apollo Belvidere. His ancient statuary and present race 
 still agree in feature. Just so with the Egyptians. Not- 
 withstanding the immigrations into Egypt, the statues four 
 thousand years old present the same line of thought and feel- 
 ing, the same stolid imperturbability, as the living Egpytian. 
 . .'^'. In silent and awful grandeur the Pyramids stand off in 
 a solitude some five miles from the Nile, on a plateau of 
 rock. Nearly one hundred of these can be traced in that 
 graveyard of the nation. The Great Pyramid occupies thir- 
 teen acres and a rood, reaching 480 feet in height. The 
 hardest thing I did while away was to climb to the top, and 
 explore the interior. 
 
 The following paragraphs will reveal on which side Dr. Eaton ranged 
 himself in the bloodless "battle of the Pyramids " now going on. 
 
 The Great-Pyramid is before you, — huge, soHd, mys- 
 terious in its age, the eldest, most massive work of human 
 hands, permanent, simple, awful in its expense of human 
 sinews and human life. There it stands, grand, gloomy, 
 
 peculiar ! 
 
 The mind staggers with doubt as to the real intention the 
 Great Pyramid was built to subserve. ... A more reason- 
 able conjecture makes the Great Pyramid a great tomb, 
 symhoUc of Egyptian ideas of immortality. They had strong 
 thoughts of the future state. On their coffins they represent 
 the soul of man in another world, under the image of a reaper 
 gathering with his sickle the harvest of his deeds here on 
 earth. The Pyramids were exponents of these ideas, in 
 Avhich we may trace a shadow, at least, of the Christian doc- 
 trine of the resurrection. They connected the future life of 
 the soul with the preservation of the body. Could they hold 
 back from decay this earthly frame for three thousand years, 
 then, thought they, would come a union of body and soul, 
 and, blessed in the embrace, they would pass into the sphere 
 of the gods. In their idea, every thing in the future 
 depended upon the preservation of the body. From this doc- 
 trine came the rock-ribbed tombs, and perfection in the art 
 
13G REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 of einbaluiing. It put the future of every man more or less 
 at the mercy of his enemies. Should hatred to a man hold 
 on after his death, could his enemy violate his body, he could 
 spread darkness over his iunnortality. 
 
 It was then the problem of tyrants, after enslaving the 
 people, to protect their royal frames from popular rage when 
 they were dead, to secure peace to their ashes Avhen they 
 had" passed to the realms of shade. The huge and sealed 
 sarcophagus held the body of the sovereign, and the huge 
 mausoleum held the sarcophagus, and all to insure safety to 
 the hallowed corse. It was not simply the vanity of life 
 carried into the grave, but the fear of retribution from their 
 oppressed subjects, who might take sweet revenge upon their 
 monarch when dead, and, by disturbing the repose of his 
 body, rob his soul of blessedness forever ; for here, " after 
 death came the judgment." 
 
 In the oldest book I find allusions to this oldest work of 
 man. Says Job, " Then had I been at rest with kings and 
 counsellors of the earth, who built desolate places" — pyra- 
 iiiicls — " for themselves." What more " desolate " than that 
 stone coffin iu that solitary room in that immense stone 
 structure of thirteen acres ! And they built them for '^them- 
 selves," — not for the common burial-place, the public good, 
 but for " themselves." The " man of Uz " had doubtless heard 
 of, perhaps seen, the Pyramid. He Avas acquainted with 
 Moses, and Moses was brought up under the shadow of the 
 Pyramid. Some think that Moses was the amanuensis of 
 Job. Jeremiah, who was driven as a prisoner to Egypt, also 
 speaks of "signs and wonders in the land of Egypt, even 
 unto this day " ; and in Lamentations, which are sup]:)Osed to 
 have been written by Jeremiah in Egypt, he says, " He hath 
 set me in dark places, as they that be dead of old." 
 
 Near the (Jreat Pyramid is the Sphinx, hewn out of the 
 solid, living rock, 180 feet long. ... It is nearly buried by 
 the sand ; but the head and neck still stand up some 60 feet 
 as it looks out calmly over the valley of the Nile, on whose 
 borders it has stood sentinel for thousands of years. 
 
 Of some memorials and wonders of Egyi)t, there are more 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 137 
 
 in New York than in Cairo. As ancient Eome stole their 
 obelisks, so modern nations have rilled the depositories of 
 ancient art. But of late a law has been enacted forbidding 
 the removal of antiquities from Egypt. A museum of price- 
 less value has been erected under the direction of Mareelle 
 Be}'. One relic is a black granite head, the features sharply 
 cut, wearing a double crown, — the symbol of authority over 
 Upper and Lower Egypt, — supposed to represent the Pharaoh 
 that perished in the Red Sea. . . . But the time came for my 
 departure. Egypt had not been the house of bondage to me, 
 as it was to ancient Israel, but a scene of constant wonder 
 and recreation. I was more in the posture of Lot's wife, 
 reluctant to leave, than, like Moses and Aaron, eager to go 
 right on my way. I had seen much that awakened a desit-e 
 to see more. The fair landscape, the flora of Egypt, were 
 inviting. " The barley was in the ear, and the tiax in the 
 boll." The wavijig palm, long avenues of the sycamore, the 
 tall cypress, the acacia, so closely identified with the ark in 
 the wilderness, were to me goodly trees. There were many 
 vegetable friends in Egypt which I had seen in America, — 
 corn, beans, peas, cucumbers, onions, and melons. We were 
 allowed a visit to the royal gardens. There stood large and 
 ancient fig-trees. I was interested to observe that the fruit 
 had already appeared before the leaves had put forth, thus 
 illustrating the Saviour's curse upon the barren fig-tree, 
 because, while the season had advanced so far that the tree 
 was full of leaves, it had failed to produce any fruit, although 
 "the time of figs was not yet," that is, the time of harvesting 
 or stripping the tree had not come. 
 
 I had also made some acquaintances among the animals of 
 Egypt. For the donkey, my benevolence, rather than my 
 complacency, was excited. They were crushed underneath 
 their enormous burdens. Then a lout of an Arab would sit 
 at the top, having no occupation but a savage beating of 
 the beast. I could hardly hurl the jibe of the prophet, when 
 he said, " The horses of Egypt are flesh, and not spirit." I 
 could understand rather how Solomon was tempted to seek 
 chariots and chargers from this land of the Nile. I saw one 
 
138 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 hundred of the Viceroy's horses feeding in the royal meadow. 
 Fire beamed in their eyes ; strength and beanty sat upon 
 their manes. The camel won my deepest interest. The 
 meekness of his aspect, his patient endurance, the fact that 
 he was the friend of Abraham and the patriarchs, the pilgrim 
 bearer, endeared him to mc. We call the camel the ship of 
 the desert. The Arabs call ships the camels of the sea. 
 Thono-h the crows, the cats, the dogs, and tlie frogs did not 
 fail to salute me, I regretted that my presence did not invite 
 a sight of the gazelle, the river-horse, and the crocodile. 
 
 But I must not forget my parting with my own i\Iohammed, 
 for I had a Mohammed. All the dragomen or guides are 
 either Salims or Hassans, Abrahams or ]\Iohammeds. But 
 my Mohammed was an honest man. If his principles were 
 not true, he was true to his principles. He had a large faith. 
 With the utmost assurance he showed me the well that 
 Joseph dug, the tree under whose shade the holy family sat ; 
 and, because they sat there, he believed the tree was to live 
 forever. He pointed to the very spot where the little ark of 
 Moses was taken from the flags. And so simple and san- 
 guine was he, that I asked no proof, and had no controversy. 
 He gave me his confidence, and I gave him my money. He 
 was in reputation with the Mohammedans, and was anxious 
 to give me the inside track. He showed me the splendidly 
 dressed Nubian eunuch, wlio had the cliarge of tlie Khedive's 
 harem. He was au fait in imparting information in regard 
 to the domestic relations of his people. None save the 
 Khedive had the right to more than four wives. For himself 
 he was satisfied with one. And although the Koran per- 
 mitted the lords of creation to put away their wives for every 
 cause, he assured me he had no disposition to put away his. 
 "Why should I put her away?" said he. "She does every 
 thing for me. She washes my feet, and brings me my break- 
 fast every morning, before I arise." My Mohammed seemed 
 to entertain a sincere affection for me. He went with me 
 everywhere ; but he could not climb the Pyramid with me. 
 He was too old. It was with no little emotion that we parted. 
 He even accompanied me to the cars, going on with me to 
 
TRAVELS m THE EAST. 139 
 
 the next station. He gave to me the Mohammedan salaam, 
 and I gave to him the gospel farewell. 
 
 I felt no sorrow in leaving behind the tombs of the caliphs, 
 the fat mosqnes, and the lean minarets; but, more than of 
 the Pyramids, I felt the subduing power of that solitary 
 obelisk standing alone where the Temple of the Sun, where 
 the priest, and the city of On, had their place ; where Joseph 
 escaped the toils of temptation, sat at the right hand of 
 Pharaoh, and was made known to his brethren who came 
 bending unto him ; against which Abraham may have leaned, 
 and whose shadow may have fallen on Jacob and Joseph, and 
 even upon the infant Saviour. That lone obelisk in the field 
 stands a witness to a high, a solemn, a sacred antiquity. 
 
 When about to leave Egypt, the party with whom I trav- 
 eled were unwilling to take a detour around by the Red Sea. 
 But not to look upon the locality where the tribes crossed 
 that sea was to lose one of my main purposes in visiting 
 Egypt. An American brother was persuaded to go with 
 me. A slow, one-horse railroad took us from Cairo, by Isma- 
 lia, to the Gulf of Suez. In our journey it was a surprise 
 to descry in the distance the masts, sails, and rigging of tall 
 ships, apparently passing through the dry land. This was 
 our first view of the great maritime canal from the Red to 
 the Mediterranean Sea. 
 
 At ten in the evening of March 18 (1874), we came to a 
 halt near the shore of the Red Sea. No light among the low 
 huts and crooked streets of Suez, but a lantern, with the 
 word " Hotel " on it, in the hand of a native Arab boy. The 
 barking of dogs, " the strife of tongues," the wrangling of 
 Arab porters, the cry of persons in every language to the lad 
 who was hurrying on with the lantern, made the darkness 
 hideous. But at length we came safely to the place of enter- 
 tainment. The room I occupied looked out upon the Gulf, 
 and, listening to the lullaby of the waves, I went to sleep. 
 Early the next morning the landlord was at my door with 
 the cry, " Rise and see what has not been known here for a 
 hundred years ! " I was soon upon the house-top. The sight 
 was not a strange one to a boy brouglit up among the moun- 
 tains of New Hampshire. It was a slight fall of snow. 
 
140 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 But nothing could divert me from settling in mj own 
 mind the question of the passage of Israel across the sea. 
 The chief inquiry with me was, Can we make the shoal, the 
 ebb-tide theory, consistent with the narrative of Moses and 
 with the physical features of the coast? Can we get quit of 
 a miracle ? Can the deliverance of Israel be attributed to 
 the natural outgoing of the tide intensified by the east wind? 
 After following around the shore, taking a view of the plain 
 where the tribes might encamp, after consulting with Mr. 
 Andrews, an intelligent Scotchman, the treasurer of the great 
 transportation company, Avho had studied this interesting 
 locality some ten years, after conversing with the ca[)tain of 
 an English steamer who had sailed the Red Sea for thirty 
 years, I came to the clear conviction that "the shoal," "the 
 ebb-tide " theory, was the shallow theory. 
 
 There is a triangular plain south of the town of Suez. The 
 sides of this triangle may be some ten miles, affording abun- 
 dant area for the Israelitish camp and all their flocks and 
 herds. The south-west side of this triangle is bounded by 
 an impassable mountain, the Attaka range. This makes an 
 acute angle with the shore of the sea ; and this acute angle, 
 we have no doubt, Avas the trap in which Israel was caught. 
 Here they found themselves "before Pihahiroth, between 
 Migdol and the sea." Here, as they looked behind them, 
 they saw the Egyptians coming down upon them with their 
 six hundred chariots. They could not flee south and west, 
 because of the mountains. The}'' could not flee to the east, 
 because the sea interposed a barrier. Thus "they were en- 
 tangled in the land," and " the wilderness shut them in." 
 Then, if we look at the crossing, Ave find that it meets the 
 terms of the narrative. ... It was clear to me, that on this 
 plain, filling the acute angle between the mountains and the 
 sea, the Israelites were encamped ; that at the point of this 
 angle, by the wonder-Avorking rod, the sea opened a passage 
 to the other shore. The distance across Avas about seven 
 miles. I think I stood upon the very strand where the 
 corpses of the Egyptians, and their chariots, Avere cast up. 
 The locality implies an out and out, full-grown miracle. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 141 
 
 "Whatever may be the inability of some to grasp the simple 
 statements of Bible truth touching that great event, here 
 was just the physical formation of mountain and plain and 
 shore suggested by the perusal of the sacred narrative. And 
 I felt the most decided conviction and pleasant satisfaction 
 in gazing upon the spot that answered so clearly to the in- 
 spired Word. . . . The passage was from the head of the 
 Attaka Mountains to the Wells of Moses on the other side, 
 through the very depths, where, at a cost of five millions of 
 dollars, the Khedive of Egypt has built his wharves and har- 
 bor for the accommodation of the Suez Canal Company. A 
 railway not quite parallel to the crossing of the tribes ex- 
 tends two miles and a half out into the sea to the docks. 
 From the ships at anchor, I could see the Wells of Moses on 
 the other side, some two miles from the shore, in the Arabian 
 Desert. A few stunted palm-trees and tamarisks cluster 
 around the fountains, forming an oasis. Here, or not far 
 distant, Moses and the children of Israel sang their Song of 
 Triumph. 
 
 From Egypt to Palestine. 
 
 Having sailed through the canal to Port Said, March 22, 
 at five o'clock in the afternoon, the "Vesta," an Austrian 
 steamer bound for Jaffa, bore me away from Egypt and from 
 the African coast. There was great variety in the nationality, 
 condition, and feelings of the passengers. The Jew had come 
 from Pesth or Spain, from Egypt, or perhaps New York, to 
 find under the shadow of some sacred mountain his last rest- 
 ing-place. The Mohammedan has already been to the shrine 
 and grave of his Prophet at Mecca; but he would aspire to 
 still higher rewards and honors by worshiping in the mosque 
 of Omar, and kissing the rock over which stood the altar at 
 Solomon's temple. The Greek, the Latin, the Copt, the 
 Armenian, are all zealous to enter the vestibule of the Holy 
 Land, in hope of kneeling at the sepulchre, or bathing in the 
 Jordan. This blindness and superstition excited the smile 
 or the pity of the Frank and the Protestant. But I had 
 honesty enough to apply the criticism to myself. Had I not 
 
142 REV. HORACE EATOX, D.D. 
 
 come as far? Did not my pulse beat as quickly for a passage 
 to Jerusalem and the Jordan as theirs? "Happy is he that 
 condemneth not himself in the thino: which he alloweth." . . . 
 Looking down on the motley multitude crowded into the 
 steerage, there seemed to be not less devotion, but more dirt. 
 As I Avas approaching the very spot where Peter beheld the 
 sheet let down, "full of all kinds of four-footed beasts and 
 wild beasts and creeping things," I saw two women lay hold 
 of the head of one poor wight, and in a most literal manner 
 they obej'ed the command, " Slay and eat." The East need 
 John Wesley's gospel, "■ Cleanliness is next to godliness." I 
 am constrained to speak here of what one of our own mem- 
 bers, Miss Maria A. West, is doing in this direction for the 
 Armenians, who comprise a large portion of the Eastern 
 world. In connection with her volume, "Loving Counsels 
 to Armenian Women in Turkey," she has published a small 
 tract, also in Armenian, on " Health and Cleanliness," — 
 clean air, clean persons, clean houses. 
 
 But Ave are already coasting along the shore of Philistia, a 
 narrow strip of territory lying between the hills of Judtea and 
 the sea. It was about nine o'clock in the morning when we 
 descried Jaffa, perched upon a projecting eminence. Like the 
 ancient tribes, we Avere to enter the promised land through 
 the waters. The harbor is a dangerous one. But it was 
 calm, and Arab boatmen soon had us away through the rocks 
 to the landing-place. 
 
 Into this harbor the cedars of Lebanon were floated for 
 Solomon's temple. This is the port to which Jonah fled ; 
 this the city where Peter had his toleration dream. Where 
 is the house of Simon the tanner? where the house of 
 Dorcas? Mine is no vision like Peter's. This is the verita- 
 ble Joppa, the oldest seaport in the world. It is said to have 
 been called Jojipa from Japheth, the son of Noah, avIio, it 
 seems, contracted a taste for maritime pursuits during his 
 long cruise in the ark. 
 
 The streets of Jaffa are narrow, rising one above another 
 like terraces. A wall twelve feet high defends the town on 
 the landward side. ... I enjoyed the aroma of three hun- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 143 
 
 dred and fifty gardens, in size varying from two to twelve 
 acres. Each garden is watered from one or two wells. Tliey 
 are surrounded by hedges of prickly pear six feet high. 
 Within grow the palm, the acacia, oranges, lemons, apricots, 
 pomegranates. The yearly production of oranges is eight 
 millions, averaging from ten to twelve inches in circumfer- 
 ence. I never tasted an orange before. 
 
 But the richest memory I brought away from Jaffa was the 
 sight of one of our own townsmen. As I felt myself a fugi- 
 tive " faint and astray " at the khan to which we were all 
 hurried on landing, I was accosted by the friendly voice of 
 Mr. Albert Hemenway, his wife and daughter also joining in 
 the salutation. They had been driven back from Jerusalem 
 by the cold weather, and were on their return. He expressed 
 deep concern for my welfare, and gave me some important 
 hints and helps in regard to my journey. 
 
 At the very entrance to Palestine I was struck with the 
 pious frauds practiced upon the ignorant at every step. 
 Forty boys crying "Backsheesh" are ready to show you the 
 staple-ring in the rock to which Noah fastened the ark. To 
 the same ring, long afterward, Andromeda, who was deliv- 
 ered by Perseus, was chained. Half-naked urchins will 
 conduct you to the house of Simon the tanner, and accom- 
 modate 3^ou to any part of the town ; different houses sharing 
 the honor. There are tanneries by the seaside, 3^et they can 
 scarcely use salt water for their vats, though they may wash 
 their raw hides in the surf. . . . The party made up for the 
 tour of Palestine assembled at the caravansery. Many of 
 the company were eager to secure the best horse and the 
 best saddle. I had no skill or ability in the log-rolling. The 
 result was, that the most forlorn-looking nag of the lot fell 
 to me. At first he seemed dissatisfied with his rider. He 
 had been abused and jaded. But a shilling now and then to 
 the muleteer reflected favorably upon the food and the 
 grooming. By such kindness we soon became close friends. 
 I was surprised to find him so unwilling to be outstripped, 
 and still more that he was able to keep up with the fleetest. 
 He bore me ahead of the entire company to tlie gate of 
 Jerusalem. . . . 
 
144 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 From Jaffa to Jerusalem. 
 
 ]\Iarcli 22, at half-past ten in the morning, v-'e left Jopp.i, 
 and moved out south-east\A'ard toward Jerusalem. 'J'he 
 Plain of Sharon was on the north, the Plain of the Philis- 
 tines on the south. Along the shore there is a sandy bar. 
 Back of this, till you come to the mountains of Judah and 
 Benjamin, some fifteen miles, extending from Gaza to Car- 
 mel, the fertility is marvelous. But bad cultivation and bad 
 government have nearly fulfilled the word of Zeplianiah 
 against this jilain : " For Gaza shall be forsaken, and Asca- 
 lon a desolation. I will even destroy thee, that there shall 
 be no inhabitant." 
 
 In my childhood I always took sides with Samson. I 
 admired his bold exploits upon the Philistines. Now on the 
 ground, I was inquisitive as to the localities of these 
 events. . . . We went over a part of the road where the ark 
 was borne in a new cart drawn by a span of kine, " lowing 
 as they went." . . . Ten miles out from Jaffa, we passed 
 Ramleh on the right, environed by cactus hedges, surrounded 
 by fertile fields and flocks and herds. . . . Two miles and a 
 half north of Ramleh is Lj^dda, remembered by the visit of 
 Peter and the cure of ^neas (Acts 9 : 32). . . . Our course 
 lay within a few miles of Ekron, and we could look far down 
 the Philistine plain on the south, toward Ashdod, Ziklag, 
 Eglon, Ascalon. " Gaza which was desert " was some thirty 
 miles from us. The face of the country appeared to me 
 somewliat like Columbia County as you ride from Canaan 
 down toward Hudson. I must not forget Gath, the birth- 
 place of Goliath the prize-fighter, reproduced in the modern 
 Philistines, Heenan, Morissey, and tlie like. 
 
 It was interesting to ride along througli the beautiful 
 Aijalon, wliere Josliua, standing near Beth-Horon the upper, 
 and looking back upon Gibeon, and down upon the valley, 
 uttered the omnipotent word, " Sun, stand thou still in 
 Gibeon, and thou moon, in the Valley of Aijalon." Here 
 we spent a rainy, moonless night at an old Arab khan ; and 
 men, horses, donkeys, were served very much alike. The 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 145 
 
 next day we crossed, according to Dr. Robinson, the Valley 
 of Elah, where David and Goliath had the duel. We saw 
 two sides of the valley wliere the two armies might have 
 been drawn up. We found the smooth stones in the rushing 
 stream, and I took one and put it in my scrip. Some six- 
 teen miles from Jerusalem, the ascent becomes steep and 
 difficult. Up to this point I thought a railroad could be 
 constructed. A very good turnpike had been built by the 
 Sultan for the convenience of the Prince of Wales. But 
 onward and upward none but animals skilled in such climb- 
 ing could make their way. " Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps 
 o'er Alps arise." When we had gained the summit of one 
 height, we strained our eyes to catch the tirst view of the 
 Holy City, but yielded to disappointment as we went down, 
 down, and then up to the top of another eminence. So we 
 traveled on for hours, till hope deferred made the heart sick. 
 At length came the cheering cry, " Jafi'a Gate ! Jaffa 
 Gate ! " 
 
 The Tomb of Eachel. The Pools of Solomon. 
 
 Thouo'h worn and weary when we arrived at Jerusalem, 
 our dragoman denied us time to rest, but decided that we 
 must that night encamp at Solomon's Pools. After a cold 
 and tasteless lunch outside the walls, we were hurried away 
 with the promise that we should have enough of Jerusalem 
 on our return. First we must see the cities of Judah, the 
 Dead Sea, and the Jordan. Seven hundred yards from the 
 walls on the southern side of the city, we found ourselves in 
 the midst of the Valley of Hinnom. On the right was 
 spread out the Plain of Rephaim, "the plain of the giants," 
 (2 Sam. 5 : 17-25). Following the roots of a long, bleak 
 ridge on the left, and cultivated fields on the right, we came 
 at length to a well in the middle of the road. Now our cre- 
 dulity is taxed by the tradition that thus far the wise men of 
 the East, when sent away by Herod, wandered in uncertainty, 
 but, stooping down to draw water, they suddenly saw their 
 guiding star mirrored in the clear surface of the well, and 
 " they rejoiced with exceeding great joy." Going up an easy 
 
146 REV. HORACE EATOX, D.D. 
 
 slope from the well, we next came to the convent called IMar 
 Elias. Here we were treated to another legend. It is very 
 likely that Elijah, lleeing to Beersheba from the face of Jeze- 
 bel, passed this way, and rested under the juniper in the 
 southern wilderness; but it is quite a blunder to put the 
 place an hour and a half from Jerusalem, luider an olive. . . . 
 From this spot there was a fine outlook both Avays. The 
 traveler coming' noith catches his first view of Jerusalem, — 
 the sides and summit of Olivet, — and, going south, gains his 
 first view of Bethlehem, about three miles distant, east of 
 south, on an eminence set around with olives and fig-trees. 
 As I stretched my eyes toward Bethlehem, I felt tlie power 
 of the locality. There David Avas born. Tliere was the 
 birth of "• David's Sun " and David's Lord. Yet there seemed 
 nothing imposing in outward situation or ntagnificence. 
 "But thou Bethlehem E})hratah, though thou wast little 
 among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall He come 
 forth unto me that is to be the ruler in Israel." 
 
 But, while thus taken up Avith Bethlehem, we come upon 
 the tomb of Rachel. " And Rachel died, and was buried in 
 the Avay to Ephrath, and Jacob set up a ])illar on l^er grave." 
 The pillar has long since disa})peared ; but the spot has been 
 handed doAvn, and a tomb of no recent date covers a cave 
 Avliieh is underneath. . . . The mind of Rachel, it is hoped, 
 had been I'enovated and purified by the sojourn at Bethel. 
 She had more fully joined Avith her husband in the covenant 
 Avhich he made Avith God thirty years before, Avhen he fled 
 from Esau. This mutual consecration to Jehovah prepared 
 them both for the separation that awis soon to folloAV. . . . 
 The remembrance of this visit to the tomb of Racliel Avas 
 deeply im})ressed by an old and celebrated painting, "• Tlie 
 Death of Rachel," Avhich I Avitnessed at Venice. With a 
 superliuman calmness and radiance of countenance, Rachel is 
 represented as looking into eternity. Joseph, Avho is four or 
 five years old, is Aveeping by the side of his dying mother. 
 The nurse is holding the beautiful little Benjamin in her 
 arms, and even Leah has turned away in tears. But the 
 expression in the eye and visage of Jacob holds the heart of 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 147 
 
 the observer. You can see that his thoughts are running 
 back to the moment when he first met Rachel at the well, 
 when he answered her kind looks and words with all the 
 simple courtesies of desert and shepherd life — when he told 
 her that he was Rebekah's son. He remembers how short 
 were the seven j'ears lie served for her, and that, had it 
 not been for the cruel disappointment, he had never had 
 another wife. The tender memories of the past, the anguish 
 of partiug, the pledges of the father to the mother in regard 
 to the little ones she leaves, are all depicted on the counte- 
 nance of the patriarch as he sits by the side, and holds the 
 hand, of his dying Rachel. . . . 
 
 The sight of the ancient Zelzah on the right brought up 
 all that beautiful narrative of the anointing of Saul by 
 Samuel. But while we moved along through the fields, 
 admiring the bright scarlet anemone, — those lilies-of-the- 
 vallej' pronounced by the highest authority to be more 
 brilliantly adorned than was Solomon in all his glory, — we 
 found ourselves descending to the spot where that king once 
 had his rural paradise. His word is, "I made me great 
 works. I builded me houses. I planted me vineyards. I 
 made me gardens and orchards, and I planted trees in them 
 of all kinds of fruit. 1 7nade me pools of icater to icater there- 
 with the wood [or the forest] that hringeth forth trees^ 
 Solomon's Pools consist of three innnense oblong tanks, the 
 second lower than the first, and the third lower than the 
 second. The bottom and sides are cut in the solid ledge, 
 and seem to be of ancient date. They were nearly full of 
 water when I was there. The lowest is 582 feet long and 
 200 feet broad ; the middle, more than 400 feet long and 200 
 broad ; the upper, 380 feet long and 236 broad. In all of 
 them the east end is broader than the west. The lower pool 
 is 50 feet deep ; the middle one, 39 feet deep ; and the upper 
 pool 25. A number of living springs in tlie hills around 
 fed these pools by covered aqueducts. . . . Perhaps as a 
 fort, or khan where caravans could find security for the 
 night, there was a large and strong stone structure near 
 these reservoirs. We were permitted to look through the 
 
148 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 gate ; but we feared the filth and robbers within more than 
 without, and pitched our tents some little way from it. The 
 night, cold and rainy, was the first I had spent in a tent. 
 The jackals saluted us in a variety of voices; sometimes in 
 a fierce snarl, then in a plaintive and pitiful cry like that of 
 a weaned child. Some of our ladies insisted that the sounds 
 Avere those of human beings in distress. We were also occa- 
 sionally diverted by the scream of the eagle. . . . 
 
 To Solomon's parks around these pools, more than eight 
 miles distant from the palace, Josephus assures us, the king 
 was accustomed to ride in the early morning. Clothed in 
 white, seated in a chariot made of the wood of Lebanon, 
 he was off with his cavalcade of horsemen before the sun 
 rose over Olivet. "• In his majesty he rode prosperously." 
 The beginning of this ride must have been interesting, as he 
 passed Gihon, wliere he was first anointed king. . . . Per- 
 haps he gives a passing notice to Bethlehem, and looks in 
 upon the plain old house of his grandfather Jesse, and bids 
 good-morning to some rustic, pious relative. From Bethle- 
 hem the retinue rush on ; so that, before the dew is off of the 
 gardens, the princely company may "gather lilies," and "see 
 whether the vine flourishes," and tidce for their breakfast 
 milk fresh from the fold. How mucli of Solomo)i's Songs 
 found its imagery in his gardens and vineyards around these 
 pools ! 
 
 But leaving now the pools, and making our way southward 
 toward Hebron, Ave first climb a steep i)ituh, and ascend "the 
 high places of Judiea." This central ridge, running through 
 the whole land north and south, about midway between the 
 Jordan and the Mediterranean, is well represented by the 
 backbone of some monster with the flesh stri])ped off. The 
 hills and valley's going out from it on either side make the 
 ridge a})pear like a series of vertebrae. Between the peaks 
 we surmounted were fertile valleys. There were ]iatches of 
 wheat on the i)lain, vines and olives on tlic liillsides, flocks 
 of slieep and goats, with their shepherds, cropping the coarse 
 lierbage fir up among the rocks. Passing over these rough 
 acres, and through these narrow passes, we met a long train- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 149 
 
 of camels, a lively illustration of the company that bore 
 spicery and balm to Egypt, and took Joseph along — the 
 richest jewel of the train. There must have been a hundred 
 of these beasts of burden. They were loaded with charcoal 
 for Jerusalem. We met them on their return, and, anxious 
 for their welfare, inquired how they sold their coal. Some 
 of tliem had been fifty miles, out and in, and were delighted 
 with their reward. Each camel-load brought a gold sover- 
 eign, — some five dollars. I was prompted to inquire of 
 what the charcoal was made, since no forest or waste wood 
 were in sight from which to pile the coal-pit. Investigation 
 led to the explanation of certain texts. The root and stalk 
 of a shrub that grows along the water-courees furnishes the 
 material. The Arabs retain the old Hebrew name Rothem. 
 Our translators call it juniper. This is the brush under 
 which Elijah sat and uttered his peevish complaint when he 
 fled from the face of Jezebel. Job speaks of those that " cut 
 up mallows by the water-courses, and juniper-roots " ; and 
 the Psalmist, referring to the same use that is now made of 
 the plant, speaks of "coals of juniper." We see how the 
 holding-on to old habits, the want of progress among the 
 inhabitants of the East, is made to subserve the illustration 
 of the Scriptures. The Arabs of the present time, like Elijah, 
 are often seen sitting, sleeping, under the shadow of this 
 shrub. 
 
 Hebron. 
 
 It was twelve miles from Solomon's Pools to Hebron. Here 
 and there was an old tower, an old foundation, an old ruin 
 of a mosque or of a church, dating back to the Crusades. 
 We saw two or three old wells, or troughs, where water was 
 obtained for caravans. Holes — caverns under projecting 
 ledges, where the Arabs live, and where the shepherds collect 
 their flocks in time of storm — are frequently seen. Not far 
 from us was the Cave of Adullam, where David and his six 
 hundred were concealed when hunted by Saul "like part- 
 ridges upon the mountains." The partridges still abound 
 here. Some three miles out of Hebron, we passed, on the 
 
150 EEV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 left, wlmt the Arabs call the house of Abraham. The old 
 structure has large foundation-stones some fifteen feet long 
 and three or four thick. There is also a well there. This is 
 supposed to be the work of Jewish hands, erected, perhaps, 
 around the spot where Abraham dwelt ; where, under the 
 oak-forest, angels visited him and told him of the destruction 
 of Sodom ; where he offered up his intercessory prayer ; and 
 whence he "beheld, and lo, the smoke of the country 
 went up as the smoke of a furnace." Along the same way 
 David led his veteran warriors to take the strongholds of 
 Jebus or Jerusalem. Probably Jesus and the holy family 
 went over this road on their way to Egypt. After alternat- 
 ing between these rough peaks and highland valleys, we come 
 to the brow, from which we look down upon Hebron and its 
 surroundings, — a valley running north and south. To the 
 eye approaching it from the north it has some resemblance, 
 abating the lake, to Canandaigua and its vicinity as we enter 
 it from Palmyra. It was a gala-day with the people of He- 
 bron. For miles out we met men, dressed in their best, armed 
 with guns, and boys with pistols. The multitude increased 
 as we approached the town. Women in white, and veiled, 
 sat by the roadside with their smaller children. We appre- 
 hended some danger, as we knew that the Mohammedan 
 hatred of Christians was here most intense, no Christian 
 families having a residence in Hebron. We were particular 
 to pass as meekly and inoffensively as we could through the 
 crowd. Stones were hurled at two of our number lingering a 
 little behind ; but they were not hit. Hisses, and Arabic words 
 meaning " Christian dogs," were sent after us. The occasion 
 which called out the i-abble and the cavalcade was the return 
 of three sheikhs from their pilgrimage to Mecca. By this 
 they had gained a great degree and saintship among the peo- 
 ple. Though there are no walls around the city, there are 
 gates, through which we pass to the bazaar, or collection of 
 stalls, where Arab merchants and tradesmen display their 
 goods. Spinners, weavers, blacksmiths, shoemakers, dyers, 
 crlass-blowers, were there at work in the most contracted and 
 primitive manner. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 151 
 
 The Cave of Machpelah. 
 
 But we have not touched the thing for which we came to 
 Hebron. After threading our way through the business part 
 of the town, we repaired, by a narrow and filthy path beyond 
 the upper row of houses, to an enclosure where were growing 
 cactus, and shrubs of various kinds. From this eminence we 
 could look down into a yard, in part surrounded by an iron 
 fence. There stood a structure some eighteen feet in diame- 
 ter, having twelve glass sides or windows — referring, as I 
 suppose, to the twelve patriarchs. It had a sharp roof like a 
 tent, and something of the appearance of a summer-house in 
 one of our gardens. This, we were told, was erected over 
 the dust of the patriarchs ; in other words, over the eave of 
 Machpelah. It is the most authentic relic in Palestine. The 
 sepulchre of the patriarchs lies within the massive walls of 
 the Haram, a mosque, which overtops all the houses of the 
 city. The wall is constructed of immense stones from twelve 
 to thirty-eight feet in length. The edges are grooved, the 
 style Jewish. How simple and affecting the account of these 
 ancient funerals on this sacred spot ! Here Abraham buried 
 the wife of his youth, who came with him out of Ur of the 
 Chaldees. " And Abraham mourned and wept for Sarah, in 
 the presence of the children of Heth." Here Isaac and 
 Ishmael laid aside their mutual hostiUty, as with their own 
 hand they let down Abraham, their venerable parent, into the 
 grave he had prepared for himself. Here Jacob and Esau, 
 in penitence and grief, consigned Isaac their father, to his 
 final resting-place. Here Joseph and his brethren mingled 
 their tears over tlie embalmed dust of Jacob. It is a pleas- 
 ant thought that the patriarchs buried their animosities in 
 their fathers' graves. Hebron was a place of peace-making 
 as well as of fraternal sorrow. Well would it ever be, if 
 family feuds went no further than the ancestral tomb. . . . 
 We crossed the valley, ascended the hill on the west, and sat 
 down to eat, I suppose, on the very spot upon which Abraham 
 built his altar, and erected his tent. Some six times, we are 
 told that the cave of Machpelah was " before Mamre," and, 
 
152 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 if the cave of Machpelah was before Mamve, Mamre was 
 before the cave of Machpelah ; and hence, as we dined right 
 across the valley opposite Machpelah, we could not have been 
 far from Mamre, where the angels, in the form of men, visited 
 Abraham as he sat in the tent-door, and where he entertained 
 his heavenh"- guests. An oaken grove which has passed away 
 was the dining-hall. . . . As we left Hebron, we turned 
 aside to the left, among the enclosures planted with vines, 
 there to stand under the great oak, the successor of those 
 trees that shaded Abraham and the angels. But few such 
 witnesses remain. This venerable tree measures twenty-two 
 feet in circumference, and casts a dense and wide shade. 
 The day before, a strong wind had brought down one of its 
 branches to the ground. An Arab woman who sat as a 
 watch forbade our taking a single leaf; and, what was mar- 
 velous, even backsheesh would not relax the order. 
 
 AVith reluctance, I took my last view of the Yale of 
 Hebron, the home of the giants, the cradle of Isaac, the 
 throne of David, the charnel of the patriarchs. ... I have 
 seen the proud, the pleasure-seeking traveler curl his lip in 
 scorn at the burnt and ban-en hills of Judaea. And when, 
 after long toil, he looks down upon the Holy City, his cry 
 is, " A sell, a sell ! " " What is there here to entertain 
 
 men .' 
 
 gentle 
 
 . . . That every generation has felt a peculiar interest in 
 visiting the land of Canaan, passing by Greece and Rome, 
 and other seats of ancient civilization, is not because it is the 
 greater land. It was one of the smallest of all the ancient 
 states. Measuring from Beersheba to Dan, it was only one 
 hundred and forty miles in length, and its average width 
 was not more than forty miles. It was less than that small 
 portion of Great Britain called Wales. It was less in size 
 than the little State of New Hampshire, which it very much 
 resembles in shape and in the face of the country. It is not 
 extent of territory that makes a nation great or small : it is 
 the men that have arisen, the events that have transpired, 
 that give interest to localities. Who that seeks to review 
 the field of Waterloo stops to inquire whether Belgium has 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 153 
 
 a great or small territory? It is the men who fought there, 
 the principles there staked, the issues there decided, that 
 make the spot memorable. Athens was narrow and barren 
 in her acres ; but her statesmen, her poets, her struggles, 
 have made her great in all the earth. In Palestine, heaven 
 touched our earth. Here a nation Avas set apart as trustees 
 for the world, to whom were committed the revelations, the 
 dispensations, the oracles of God. In these were wrapped 
 up the provisions of eternal life for the human race. The 
 thoughtful believer finds the very desolations of tlie Holy 
 Land a fulfilment of the Holy Book _; and true affection 
 lends a tinge, a savor, to every memorial of thef birth, the 
 life, the death, of an esteemed benefactor. 
 
 Bethlehem. 
 
 After the second night spent at Solomon's Pools, we leave 
 the more direct road to Jerusalem, and, turning eastward, go 
 down, round the western side of the valley, once terraced 
 and fruitful. We creep along a path, descending in single 
 file a steep declivity. Green spots, fertile gardens, vineyards 
 with towers ^ for the watchmen, still greet the eye. As we 
 rounded the spur of the mountain toward the east, the shout, 
 "Bethlehem!" went up from our guides; and across the 
 intervening valley, its rock-ribbed sides and limestone habi- 
 tations met our eye. Keeping our way to the south, we 
 came at length to the road which enters the town from 
 Jerusalem, on the west. Bethlehem is built on a stony 
 eminence some mile long, and less than half that in width, 
 sliding down to a deep valley on the north and on the south. 
 It presents a bold headland on the east. There stands the 
 Church of the Nativity, erected in the fourth century by 
 Helena, the mother of Constantine. . . . Ibrahim Pasha, 
 hearing of contentions between the Christian and the Moslem 
 inhabitants, and finding the Christians more numerous, hnpar- 
 tially ordered the Mohammedans to emigrate ; so that now, 
 Bethlehem is almost exclusively Christian, the majority being 
 members of the Greek Church. . . . 
 
 1 Isa. 21 : 5-12. 
 
154 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 From some pinnacle of the city, like Arthur's Seat in 
 Edinburgh, the Bible student ma}' employ the imagination 
 — that magic-lantern of the mind — in calling up, and giv- 
 ing life, to scenes of Scripture history here transacted. . . . 
 I see the mother-in-law and her daughter-in-law climbing the 
 steeps as they enter Bethlehem on the east. The city is 
 moved with the cry, " Is this Naomi : " now so desolate, — she 
 who, discontented with Bethlehem, to better her condition 
 went down to Moab? Backsliders always return poor. . . . 
 And here, again, the scene changes. The tall and fine- 
 looking among the eight sons of Jesse have a commission in 
 the army, "and other honors. But the boy David, the last 
 and the least, scarcely counted by his father, is sent away to 
 keep the sheep, among those deep and yawning gorges where 
 the Moabites invade on one side, the Philistines on tlie otlier, 
 and bears and lions spring out of the surrounding caves to 
 devour both the sheep and the shepherd. But here David 
 gained both grit and grace. Here he tuned his lyre, which 
 at length proved mightier than his throne, and made these 
 awful solitudes resound to the beautiful pastoral, " The Lord 
 is my shepherd, I shall not want." And as from another 
 crag he looked up to the moon, walking in her brightness, 
 he sang, " The heavens declare the glory of God." Dangers 
 which invaded the flock found his frame packed with fibre, 
 and his soul with courage. God often makes men in 
 obscurity and perils. . . . Somewhere on the area of this 
 rural village was the cradle of human salvation. Hete the 
 " Ancient of days " became the Infant of days. . . . Some, 
 with much ingenuity, have endeavored to mark out the spot 
 of Christ's birth, as well as the house of Jesse where David 
 was born. But the thread is too fine. All we know, and all 
 we need to know, is the simple historic truth which the 
 Bible tells us. . . . But, notwithstanding all the incrusta- 
 tions of superstition, Bethlehem is " beautiful for situation," 
 and blessed in its associations. ... 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 155 
 
 Convent of jNIar Saba, 
 
 As we made our careful way clown from Bethlehem, our 
 dragomen and muleteers wantonly dashed through a field of 
 wheat, treading down and injuring the grain. I could not 
 blame the Arab owner for his rough sounds and threatening 
 gestures. Even Boaz, the early proprietor of the iield, could 
 not have held his peace. But the traveler cannot be as care- 
 ful of public interests as though he were assisted in his jour- 
 ney by good roads and good fences. 
 
 Something more than half a mile eastward, we stopped to 
 dine in a plain dotted with olives, and fertile as in the days 
 of the fair gleaner. We looked away to the. wild glens of 
 the south, that once resounded to the harp of the sweet 
 singer of Israel, and thought of the shepherds that, a thou- 
 sand years later, kept watch of their flocks by night in the 
 same pastures, and heard, in the mysterious arches of the 
 sky, a choir of angels chanting, " Glory to God in the high- 
 est ; peace on earth, and good-will to men." 
 
 Passing by some massive and well-wrought remains of a 
 Greek church, the eastern headland of Bethlehem faded from 
 our sight, as we threaded our narrow and rugged way, now 
 rising and now descending dizzy and difficult steeps. Caves 
 on either side looked out upon us like portholes, where the 
 bat now flits in dust and dimness, and the jackal and robber 
 find a retreat. As we approached the banks of the Kidron, 
 the face of Nature put on a sterner and gloomier grandeur. 
 . . . Such is the "wilderness of Judaea," where Elijah was 
 fed by the ravens, that ill-boding bird. Here the Baptist 
 wandered in camels' liair, and ate locusts and wild honey. 
 In this wilderness, with the wild beasts, Jesus was forty days 
 tempted of Satan, and the angels ministered unto Him. 
 
 Gorges grew more terrible as we went on, and culminated 
 at the crag of Mar Saba. The old structure is an irregular 
 mass of walls, towers, chambers, chapels, all clinging to the 
 sides of a huge precipice. At a point where we could look 
 down upon the dome and the clocked turret which crowned 
 the convent, we left our horses, and passed through a wide 
 
156 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 entrance to a heavy iron door. When the authorities within 
 were satisfied that we were neither ^Nlohannnedans nor 
 women, the heavy gate opened, and Ave wound our way 
 down two hundred and fifty steps, through arches, recesses, 
 caverns, dining-lialls, tombs. These were in different eleva- 
 tions. Tfie church and altars are ricli in sculpture and 
 paintings, in silver and gold ornaments. Hebron and Beth- 
 lehem were filthy in their sacred places. Mar Saba is swept 
 and garnished. Sixty-five inmates were there, sluit in for 
 life, — some quite aged men, all sleek, fat, and pleasant-look- 
 ing, in the daily business of doing nothing. 
 
 This is a Greek convent, and under the patronage and 
 wing of tlie Kussian government. I could understand as 
 mucli of their Greek as they could of ni}' English, and yet 
 some kind words and kind acts passed between us. Their 
 coats are camels' hair, their hats a rimless stovepipe. They 
 go barefoot. Meat never touches their teeth. Bread and 
 salt is their daily repast. They are teetotallers. Upon no 
 plea whatsoever is a woman permitted to enter the place. 
 Our ladies were allowed to linger at a safe and awful dis- 
 tance, while the men, the meanest of them, were welcome 
 to the hospitalities of Mar Saba. Miss Martineau knocked 
 at this gate, and was silently pointed to a tower erected at a 
 distance, where, solitary and alone, she j^assed the night. 
 There was a sting in the Parthian shot, when she said on 
 leaving, " The monks are too holy to be hospitable." There 
 was one gleam amid these dim shadows that amounted to 
 fun. A few of the monks were amusing themselves by feed- 
 ing flocks of gay and cheerful birds of bright plumage and 
 sweet voices. The birds loved the crumbs ; but they were 
 not monks. They had their nests on crags without the con- 
 vent. A valuable library of old Greek manuscripts has a 
 place here. The superior pointed me to a vault where he 
 said there were fourteen thousand skulls of martyrs slain by 
 the Mohammedans. 
 
 We stood by the tomb of ]\Iar Saba, born in Cappadocia, 
 A.D. 439. He chose for his ascetic life this awful solitude 
 where Elijah and the Baptist sojourned. Legend runs 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 157 
 
 thus: the suint found a rough and fearful den then occu- 
 pied by a lion. The apostle of the ancliorites intimated to 
 the king of beasts that higher uses demanded his accommo- 
 dations. The lion, transformed to a lamb, left his lair, and 
 Mar Saba entered in, and this cave became the germ of the 
 monastery, now more than thirteen hundred years old. A 
 palm-tree growing within one of the courts is said to have 
 been planted by the patron saint. The sanctity, fastings, 
 and great age of Mar Saba, for he died at ninety-four, 
 inspired the confidence of multitudes. Fourteen hundred 
 sought to him at one time. 
 
 The ascetic spirit started with Justin Martyr. I looked in 
 upon the cave at Bethlehem where he lived and studied for 
 thirty years, and gave the world the Vulgate version of the 
 Bible. From that time, monasticisni has been a strong ele- 
 ment in the Eastern churches. To get the victory over 
 self and the world, men have betaken themselves to soli- 
 tude, to contemplation, to painful inflictions and austeri- 
 ties. So taught the Vedas, the sacred books of Buddliism. 
 Alexander found this class of men along the banks of the 
 Indus. They lived in caves, woods, mountains, in poverty, 
 celibacy, abstinence, silence. But we have reason to believe 
 that self-help, self-Avill, self-glory, was the deep tap-root in 
 many a mind. 
 
 The same is true of the Christian anchorite. Our blessed 
 Lord prayed to the Father, not that He should take His dis- 
 ciples out of the world, but that He would keep them from 
 the evil. We are not to abandon the world, but to over- 
 come the world. The spirit is to gain victories over the 
 flesh, reason over sense, truth over error. This is done, not 
 by depreciation of the body, the family, the state, but by 
 exhibiting truth, righteousness, holiness, in all these divinely 
 constituted relations. , Elijah, from necessity, had his lonely 
 cell by the brook Cheritli ; but Elijah was no hermit on 
 Mount Carmel. In the final interview, the practical Martha 
 was the first to meet the Saviour. It was she who made the 
 appeal to her contemplative sister Mary, "The Master is 
 come, and calleth for thee." Jesus, the example of all 
 
158 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 believers, was no recluse. While St. Simon stood on one 
 foot, perched on a pillar year after year, Jesus used both His 
 feet in going about doing good among all classes and both 
 sexes. The monk of Mar Saba, moping and mumbling, 
 counting his beads in his rocky den, is not the model saint, 
 but Paul, let down the walls of Damascus in a basket, and 
 straightway preaching boldly in the name of the Lord Jesus. 
 Running, living water is tlie purest. jNIonasticism is the 
 child of the desert, of gloom : it comes down from the caves 
 of the dark ages. The man "out of the tombs, exceeding 
 fierce," when cured, innocently desired, for his own comfort 
 and safety, that he might be with Christ where he was. He 
 was bidden to go home to his kindred and neiglibors, and 
 tell what great things the Lord had done for him. . . . 
 
 The Dead Sea. 
 
 Our way from the convent lay along the edge of a terrible 
 crevasse. The opposite wall, piled up by nature in blocks 
 four feet in thickness, three hundred feet high, was honey- 
 combed with caves dug out by human hands, once the home, 
 and now the tomb, of different generations of unwashed, 
 uncombed, and unshaven monks. What a chapter in Chris- 
 tianity ! . . . 
 
 Finding our way down to the bed of the Kidron, we 
 encamped on its green bank. Opposite to us were the tents 
 of French travelers. . . . 
 
 l)Ut there were reliefs and diversions on this dreary way. 
 While the Arabs and other inhabitants seemed to be desti- 
 tute of the least taste for trees and ornamental shrubs, the 
 great Proprietor has shown His smiles upon the Holy Land, 
 by scattering flowers with a profuse if not prodigal hand 
 where there is soil enough for the root. Every level spot, 
 every hillside, was cheered by the silent, social joy of flowers. 
 In their varieties the blossoms seemed pleased with each other. 
 The scarlet anemone smiled on the poj^py, and those of rosy 
 hue on the blue gentian. They welcomed to their company 
 the yellow and the purple flowers ; and all mingled tlieir 
 tints and their fragrance as a grateful offering to their 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 159 
 
 English and American friends.^ The different levels that 
 broke down toward the plain were generally fertile, and no 
 doubt, during the time of Israel's prosperity, had borne up 
 great harvests. Here we saw Bedouins abroad with their 
 camels, goatherds leading their flocks, and herdsmen with 
 their cattle ; and we could realize how Lot in his selfishness 
 should covet and claim from his venerable uncle all this 
 productive domain. . . . The surface of the Dead Sea shim- 
 mered in the reflected rays. Beyond were the mountains of 
 Moab ; on the left, the Valley of the Jordan. How many 
 Scripture names and scenes crowd the memory ! . . . But 
 from these heights of Judah we must go down, down more 
 than thirteen hundred feet, below the surface of the ocean. 
 Flat after flat, terrace after terrace, must be reached. As in 
 going up to Jerusalem, we were wearied and disappointed by 
 a succession of hills, so, in going down to the Dead Sea, 
 steeps followed plateau, and plateau steeps, till we were tired 
 and sick of the repetition. At last, through a long, descend- 
 ing plain impregnated with salt, or tangled with masses of 
 dwarfed shrubs, rushes, tamarisks, and oleander, in spots 
 where trickle fresh-water springs, our way brouglit us to the 
 northern shore of the Dead Sea. There are piled masses of 
 
 1 We copy the following sentences on the flowers of Palestine from an 
 address to the Sabbath-scliool : — 
 
 " It is said that Solomon ' spake of trees from the cedar that is in Lebanon 
 even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall.' Solomon was a great 
 botanist. It is a pity we have lost his treatises on plants. God is a great 
 botanist. He shows His love of flowers because He has planted the Holy 
 Land so full of them. I did not notice a house in all Palestine where they 
 were cultivating flowers ; but in the fields the oleander, the wild tulip, the 
 poppy, the verbena, the rose, the daisy, the star of Bethlehem, were all laugh- 
 ing together in joyful and pleasant society. A species unlike our rose, but so 
 called in the Bible, grows luxuriantly on the Plains of Sharon. Tlie lily-of- 
 the-valley is thought to be the scarlet anemone, of brilliant hue and fine tex- 
 ture, with five petals. They are sometimes called ' The Blood Drops of 
 Jesus.' So abundant are they, that they color the ground. The blossom is 
 about an inch across : some are an inch and a half. I intended to bring one 
 to each of you children of the Sabbath-school ; but they all faded, and were 
 ground up in my book, and I was obliged to give it up." 
 
160 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 reeds, branches and trunks of trees, brought down by tribu- 
 tary streams, and driven by tempests on the coast. 
 
 The wind was blowing from the soutli, and dull, heavy 
 waves were beating like hammers against the rocks. The 
 Dead Sea is forty miles long and nine miles wide. Corru- 
 gated and thunder-scarred ledges stand up, — a wall on the 
 east and west. An awful and toothlike barrenness meets 
 the eye. . . . 
 
 It is another wonder of this lake that there is no outlet. 
 ... But do you ask what becomes of the waters that thus 
 flow in ? You will remember that for seven or eight months 
 during the year an almost vertical sun pours its rays into 
 the gorge, making the Dead Sea like a boiling caldron, 
 increasing evaporation to such an extent as to dr}^ up the 
 waters faster in summer than they run in, making a variation 
 between the rainy and the dry season of some fifteen feet^ 
 Thus i\\Q lake at high water is many miles larger than at 
 low water. The consequence of this extreme evaporation 
 is that the salts are retained, and the water becomes heavier. 
 One gallon of distilled water will weigh ten pounds; one 
 gallon of water from this sea, twelve and a quarter pounds. 
 Eggs float on the Dead Sea, with one-third exposed, Avhile 
 they sink in the waters of the Mediterranean. A man cannot 
 sink in the Dead Sea. He will float nearly breast high Avith- 
 out the least exertion. Dr. Robinson could never swim 
 before, either in fresh or salt water, "yet here he could sit, 
 stand, lie, or swim without difficulty." Some have thought, 
 because it was called the Dead Sea, nothing could live 
 around it, that birds dropped down flying over it, and the 
 like. True, the waters do not encourage vegetation, nor do 
 fish, or any creature of considerable size, live in its depths ; 
 but birds fly over it, and sometimes light upon it. The 
 water looks clear and blue. It is bitter and nauseous to the 
 taste, but a tonic to those who bathe in it. Another feature : 
 at present there goes "no galley with oars, neither does 
 gallant ship pass thereby." The waves in a strong wind 
 would thump heavily against the sides of any craft ; but 
 they would subside quickly with the going-down of the 
 wind. . . . 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 161 
 
 The Site of the Temple. 
 
 Early in the morning of March 31, 18T4, I left my tent, 
 pitched ontside the wall of Jerusalem, near Jaffa Gate, to 
 spend the day in studying the ruins of the ancient temple. 
 "Moses" was my guide, unlike the ancient lawgiver save in 
 his age. He was an old Jew. " His eye was not dimmed, nor 
 his natural force abated." He was learned in the languages, 
 if not in the law. He spoke in nine dialects. He was loqua- 
 cious in regard to his own history, and intensely attached to 
 
 his people Some thousand feet from these " corner-stones," 
 
 west, are monuments of the exceeding grandeur of Solo- 
 mon's arrangements and retinue. In his time, — in Christ's 
 time, — there was a deep valley of a hundred feet between 
 Zion on the west, and Moriah on the east. The palace of 
 Solomon was on Zion, called the City of David. The dis- 
 tance from Zion to the temple-wall, across this valley, was 
 350 feet. Three times in Scripture a remarkable passage 
 or causeway is mentioned, leading from the palace to the 
 temple. It is referred to in the visit of the Queen of Sheba 
 (1 Kings 10 : 5). This bridge is mentione<l in the siege that 
 Pompey waged against the city some fifty years before 
 Christ. Titus, seventy years after Christ, at the destruction 
 of Jerusalem, stood upon this bridge, and exhorted the priests 
 at the temple to surrender, and save their lives and city. 
 Now, it is the delight of the traveler to find the abutment of 
 this bridge as it projects its massive stones from the western 
 wall of Sie temple area. This abutment is near the south- 
 western corner. The profound acquaintance of Dr. Edward 
 Robinson with Saracen and Arabic authors, with Josephus 
 and the Bible, put him in possession of the facts in regard to 
 this buried bridge and the general locaUty of the Cyclopean 
 rocks which were its foundation. He set men to digging 
 and removing rubbish, and it was acknowledged one of the 
 greatest triumphs in archaeology, that the place and piers of 
 this bridge have l)een identified. To me there were " sermons 
 in these stones." When 1 came to stand by these monu- 
 ments, I called to mind the description Dr. Robinson gave of 
 
1G2 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 them to our class in the Theological Seminary, In 1840. 
 Noble kings and princes of Israel walked over this bridge. 
 Doubtless Jesus and His disciples passed and repassed here, 
 on their wa}' to and from the tenii)le. 
 
 . . . Following up the wall of the temple, we come to the 
 "Place of Wailing." The way was narrow, filled with vile 
 offiil, weeds, and cactus-plants. It brought us to a small 
 paved area between modern houses on the west and the 
 ancient wall of the temple on the east. The lower courses 
 of the wall are huge beveled stones. They were the foun- 
 dations of Solomon's temple. Here the Mohammedan Gov- 
 ernment allows Jews of all ages and nations to come on 
 Friday, and wail before these solemn relics of their past 
 greatness. " They take pleasure in her stones." "• Their 
 eyes run down with tears." The old man leaning on his 
 staff is here. Here are the poor, the jiale, tlie careworn 
 women and children. Some are on their knees, chanting 
 mournfully from the book of Hebrew prayer. Venerable 
 men are reading aloud, with moaning voices, from the 
 Lamentations of Jeremiah. All have their Hebrew Bibles. 
 Some are prostrate, pressing their foreheads and their lips to 
 the earth ; some are throAviiig out their arms as though they 
 Avould clasp the stones to their bosoms; some cling closely to 
 the wall, kissing these old stones, which they have actually 
 worn with their lips. 
 
 From Jericho to Jerusalem. 
 
 A kind of elegiac sympathy with Christ grew upon my 
 spirit as I followed the steps of His last journey from Jericho 
 to Jerusalem. Not a palm remains to the "• City of Palms." 
 The sycamore that Zaccheus climbed has passed away ; but 
 the fountain that Elijah cleansed, the brook Cherith, by the 
 side of which Elijah Avas fed by ravens, the valley where 
 Achan was stoned, the savage ravine where thieves even 
 now lie in wait for travelers, and the village of P)ethany, 
 still mark our Saviour's steps as He went U]) to be crucilled. 
 At the angle of Olivet where the view of the Holy City 
 burst upon the vision of Jesus, when with tears He cried, 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 163 
 
 "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem!" — at this point in the way a 
 thonsand sacred associations thronged my memory. A sigh 
 of the weeping harp came to my ear. "From the daughter 
 of Zion all her beauty hath departed." Not a tree or vine 
 broke the drear of these colorless walls. Once they were 
 bulwarks, — now frail and falling ; once six miles in extent, 
 — now two ; once the people were numbered by hundreds of 
 thousands, — now there are less than fourteen thousand. The 
 site of the ancient temple is desecrated by a Mohammedan 
 mosque. A crescent banner waves from the Tower of David. 
 The imprecations of the crucifiers are realized : " The curse 
 be upon ns and upon our children." The sombre darkness 
 of tlie Saviour's dying hour still lingers on the landscape. 
 The Vale of Hinnom, the Valley of Jehoshaphat, the Pool 
 of Siloam, " the town of Martha and Mary," all speak of the 
 Saviour's closing sojourn on earth. 
 
 To one searching for truth, the decrees and opinions of 
 men and monks are not so clear. My most devout guide led 
 me along a steep and winding street called the " Via Dolo- 
 rosa." Here he assured me Christ bore His cross ; here was 
 the staircase leading to the Judgment Hall ; there Pilate 
 cried, "Behold the man ! " next the house of Dives; then the 
 spot where Jesus fell under His cross, and where a blessed 
 woman gave Him a handkerchief to wipe His bleeding brow; 
 then the print of the Saviour's hand in the wall, as He thrust 
 it out to save Himself from falling. 
 
 Come we at length to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre^ 
 partly above ground, mostly made up of chambers and grot- 
 toes dug in the solid rock. Here are the sockets in which 
 the three crosses were fixed, and the pillar where the Saviour 
 was beaten with rods. Here is Golgotha, the tomb of Joseph, 
 tlie sepulchre of Melchizedek, " the centre of the world," 
 and "the grave of Adam." For the convenience of trav- 
 elers, all are crowded into the circle of a few rods in the 
 very heart of^ the city. But the reader of the Bible remem- 
 bers tha,t the place of the crucifixion was " without the wall," 
 when the walls were three times the extent of the present. 
 Pious frauds do not minister to devotion. 
 
164 REV. HORACE EATON; D.D. 
 
 Garden of Gethsemane. 
 
 liat there is one spot, which, without a doubt, may be 
 identified. From St. Stephen's Gcate I took my way down 
 the eastern declivity, thirty-three rods, to the bed of the 
 Kidron ; then across the valley, twenty-seven rods, to the 
 north-west corner of an enclosure some nine rods square, or 
 half an acre in extent. Here the Garden of Gethsemane 
 welcomed me to its solemn stillness, and I gave myself up to 
 reading the narratives of tlie evangelists and to such medi- 
 tations as the spot of tlie Ivedcemer's suffering, and the 
 very earth tluit absorbed His bloody sweat, were calculated 
 to awaken and cherish. My stay in the Garden on that 
 Sabbath day, beyond the Cedron, was one of the focal 
 moments of my life. Dumb, unbribed monuments testified 
 to the awful facts that once transpired here. Nature, his- 
 tory, prophecy, reflected interest upon my musings. It is at 
 the foot of the Mount of Olives. Eight ancient olive-trees 
 still survive. If not the same trunks, they may have sprung 
 from the old roots of the ancestral trees that waved over the 
 Son of God in prayer. Tlie spot where Jesus prayed I know 
 not: I might have knelt on the same ground. Tlie very 
 place where the disciples slept, where Peter drew the sword, 
 where Judas gave the treacherous kiss, Ave cannot identify; 
 but we knoAv that the traitor and his band here came out 
 against Him, and that Jesus went from Gethsemane to Cal- 
 vary. The very name Gethsemane means " oil-press," and is 
 significant of the Saviour's agony. It was in a garden that 
 the powers of evil overcame the first Adam. In a garden 
 the powers of evil were overcome by the second Adam. 
 Gethsemane still echoes the sufferings of Jesus, the justice 
 of God, and the vilcness of sin. In Gethsemane, God con- 
 demned sin, not simply as a moral defect, a physical misfor- 
 tune, but as that abominable thing which His soul hateth. 
 Through Gethsemane we pass from condemnation to forgive- 
 ness, from Paradise lost to Paradise regained. . . . 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 165 
 
 Nazareth. 
 
 The private dwellings and public edifices of Nazareth 
 cleave to the roots of the hills on the western side of a 
 mountain-glen, or basin, verdant with wheat-fields, gardens, 
 cactus, olive-yards, and orange-trees. Back of the cit}^ to- 
 A^^ard the west, is a table-land, from which, looking south- 
 ward, can be seen the great war plain of Esdrselon; then, 
 farther on, Carmel, as he pushes out his feet into the 
 sea ; to the south-east, Gilboa, Little Ilermon, the ruins of 
 Jezreel, Shunem, Nain, Endor, the summit of Tabor, and, 
 beyond, the gorge of the Jordan, the mountains of Gilead; 
 northward, over the hills and lakes of Galilee, Hermon, with 
 its crown of snow. From very hate of the Nazarene, no Jew 
 resides here. Napoleon, after defeating twenty-five thousand 
 Arabs at the foot of Tabor, climbed to this peaceful lap in the 
 hills, and confessed that Jesus was the greater conqueror. 
 
 As we rode into Nazareth, the shadows were lengthening 
 over the plain. Camels, cattle, donkeys, sheep, goats, — a 
 heterogeneous flock,— were gathering in from their pasturage 
 on the hillsides. From abundant rains the whole landscape 
 was unusually green. It was Saturday night. Save the 
 tones of the convent bell, all seemed lulled to stillness. 
 Our Arabs, our mules, as well as ourselves, rejoiced in the 
 prospect of a Sabbath's rest in this sanctuary of nature. 
 Our tents were pitched under the shadow of the sycamore 
 and the cypress, and we soon sank into the arms of sleep. 
 The next morning I was up with the lark. I hurried first to 
 the '' Fountain," the only source of water to the entire val- 
 ley. It was Easter Sunday, and girls and Avomen, dressed in 
 their best attire, came in with pitchers upon their heads for 
 water. These pitchers hold from ten to twenty quarts. 
 The scene around the fountain was racy with life and with 
 strife. 
 
 Next I followed the herdsmen as they drove back the 
 mixed multitude to their pastures on the surrounding hill- 
 tops. Though alone, I was not alone, for I felt that Jesus 
 was with me to show me this and that summit, this and that 
 
166 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 aspect of the landscape, this and tliat flower that once 
 cheered and diverted His childliood and youth, while for 
 thirt}' years He dwelt in this cradle of divinity. I can 
 recall no early walk, no meditation before breakfast, so full 
 of interest and profit. 
 
 During the day we had a season of worship in the Mission 
 Church. I attempted to preach, and took for my text the 
 story of Christ's return to Nazareth, "where he had been 
 brought np." Here in this Nazareth, by poverty, by labor, 
 by a pious home, by the Holy Scriptures, by the holy 
 Sabbath, by tiie Hol}^ Spirit, the Holy Child was educated, 
 developed. "Here He grew in stature, in wisdom, in favor 
 with God and man." Far away from nniversitics, from 
 libraries, from academic groves, He studied men, nature, the 
 Hebrew and Greek Scriptures. While in the bosom of this 
 sweet and flowery retreat. He dwelt in the bosom of His 
 Father, and Avas j)repared to go forth, "a light to lighten 
 the Gentiles, and the glory of God's people Israel." 
 
 "Those thrice ten years! — tlieir record wlio may tell, 
 
 Wliich Jesus spent unnoticed or unseen, 
 Save by the eye of those who loved Him well. 
 
 And knew Him as the gentle Nazarcne ? 
 Oh might I read the thoughts and track the ways 
 Of Him on whom the angels bent their gaze ! " 
 
 The Lake of Gennesaret. 
 
 The scenery around mountain lakes rarely fails to inspire 
 an enchantment that delights the beholder. Lake Leman 
 in Switzerland attracts the elite of Europe, as swallows to 
 their summer home. The lochs of Scotland are tiie bright 
 spots in their Highlands. Windermere in Westmoreland 
 has been the home of British poets, — Wordsworth, Cole- 
 ridge, and Mrs. Hemans. Along the lakes of Killarney have 
 reveled the wit and genius of Irish romance and song. But 
 of all the beautiful water-sheets of earth, none have ever 
 charmed my imagination and heart like " deep Galilee." On 
 the 6th of April, 1874, after a ride of some twenty miles on 
 horseback, from Nazareth, around by the top of Tabor, as 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 16T 
 
 the sun was setting, I stood on the mountain-rim that sur- 
 rounds this h^ke. The Lake of Galilee, also called Gen- 
 nesaret and Tiberias, is thirteen miles long, six wide. Its 
 shore is white and pebbly. Back of that comes a belt of 
 greensward or shrubbery, variegated by gardens and wheat- 
 fields, gradually ascending some three hundred feet. Then 
 the landscape recedes to adjacent mountains. Going north 
 on the western shore, at Magdala the high bank slopes down, 
 and spreads out into a beautiful plain, reaching on north- 
 ward around the lake, and forming a crescent some three or 
 four miles long, and more than a mile wide in the middle. 
 This is called in the New Testament the " Land of Gennes- 
 aret." No spot on earth is more fertile; and in the time 
 of Christ's sojourn there the whole region swarmed with 
 people, and was dotted all over Avith flourishing towns and 
 cities. On this section of the coast were situated Western 
 Bethsaida, Chorazin, Capernaum. Across the eastern shore I 
 could see what was once the territory of Og, King of Bashan, 
 then the possession of the tribe of Manasseh. Through the 
 deep rents in the high, steep banks of the eastern side, rushes 
 at times the cold air from the snows of Hermon, and sweeps 
 in sudden tempests across the water. As I first came in 
 sight of the lake, the sun was going down over the great 
 western sea, and the light was reflected askance from the 
 glassy surface of Gahlee, now rocked to sleep in its moun- 
 tain cradle. ... In one of the coves I saw shoals of fish, 
 and an Arab casting a net; and the thought crossed my 
 mind, perhaps this is the very spot where the call ^ of the 
 disciples and the recall^ of Peter took place. The waters are 
 pure, and abound with fish. In this lake I swam where Peter 
 sank. 
 
 Streams from Lebanon. 
 
 The sublime height that stands as a bound and barrier on 
 the north of Israel is fitly called by the Arabs, Gebel Esh- 
 sheik. Lebanon is a sheik among the mountains. ... It 
 
 1 Matt. 4 : 18, 19. " John 21. 
 
168 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 was the grief of Moses, as he sank into his unknown grave 
 in the hind of JNIoab, that he could not "go over and see that 
 good hind, that goodly mountain and Lebanon." I was pass- 
 ing from the River Jordan to Jericho when I caught my first 
 sight of Lebanon. Up the long vista of the valley, beyond 
 the Sea of Galilee, to the head-springs of the Jordan, the 
 Mont Blanc of Palestine lifts its cool and serene brow. 
 As I ascended other peaks, as I advanced farther north, the 
 same headland seemed to assume a personality, "a vast, 
 silent, meditative consciousness," that absorbed every be- 
 holder's attention and thoughts. Li my journey through 
 northern Galilee I encamped, April 8, under Hermon, the 
 highest ]ieak of Anti-Lebanon, in sight of the old city, Abel- 
 Beth-^laachah.i ... It was our hap to pitch our tents near 
 a large Bedouin camp. Between ten and eleven in the 
 evening, the barking of dogs and the firing of guns aroused 
 us from sleep. Even our Arabs and dragomen were fright- 
 ened, and armed themselves for a hostile encounter. A few 
 were so unwise as to fire, under the pretence of showing that 
 we were not altogether unarmed. The night wore away under 
 dubious apprehensions. The morning brought to us quiet 
 and some shamefacedness. The sounds we heard were those 
 of mirth, and not of anger. An only and esteemed daughter 
 of the venerable sheik had been given in marriage before 
 the whole tribe, by the father's hand, to another sheik, a 
 young man worthy of her choice. When we heard this, we 
 could but join in the rejoicings, and regret that we were not 
 among the guests. The next day we passed by the ancient 
 cities of Dan and Csesarea Philippi, around the head-springs 
 of the Jordan. Most rivers begin with the trickling out 
 of water from some little spring ; another joins it ; a 
 third brings its contribution, till a young river is formed. 
 Entirel}' unlike are the sources of . the Jordan. They burst 
 out from under the roots of IMount Hermon, full grown. 
 Hasbany is the most distant fountain, and guslies up clear 
 and cool from under a bold and perpendicular rock. This 
 
 1 2 Sam. 20 : 15. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 169 
 
 flows on twenty-five miles, when it unites with a more copi- 
 ous stream from Dan. This, like the fountain at Hasbany, 
 gushes out a full-grown river. At Dan we were shaded by 
 one of tlie great "oaks of Bashan." The Arabs call this 
 place Tellekady (" the hill of the judge ") '*Dan " in Hebrew 
 means "judge." See how the old name clings to the spot! 
 That night Ave encamped five thousand feet up the sides of 
 Hermon, in a mountain glen. Wearied by the loss of sleep 
 the previous night, and the hard climbing of the day, it was 
 doubly severe to be robbed of rest another night. It was 
 not the cry of the jackals entering upon their evening sere- 
 nade, it was not the barking of dogs, or the firing of guns 
 from native Bedouins, that now deprived us of our rest; but 
 a wind from the mountain wilderness came down the gorge, 
 and "smote the four corners" of our tents. With difficulty 
 we saved ourselves from being "withered and strewn" 
 before the blast. In the morning we must renew our jour- 
 ney across crags and fastnesses, down four thousand feet, on 
 our way to Damascus. At evening we came to an elysium of 
 rest and retreat, — Kefr Hauwar, — surrounded by gardens, 
 shaded by Avalnut, almond, and apricot trees. No dogs, no 
 guns, no braying of asses, no quarrelsome Arabs, no " windy 
 storm and tempest," disturbed our repose. Most of all, for 
 our comfort, a pure and living stream from Lebanon flowed by 
 our tents, giving us first cleansing, then songs for the night. 
 Besides the warbling in the trees, the waters kept up a mur- 
 muring against the rocks for obstructing their own lawful 
 channel. This gentle strife did not annoy, but the sooner 
 lulled us to rest. Thus, while I enjoyed a luxurious quiet, I 
 could say with the singer of old, "I sleep; but my heart 
 waketh." The livelong night my spirit was in a sweet 
 revery upon the words, " Streams from Lebanon.". . . 
 
 The physical geography, the face of the country, in Pales- 
 tine is singular and varied. In going from the soutliern 
 extreme, you may pass three ways. You may go to the 
 left (to the west), along the maritime plain of the Philis- 
 
170 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 tines, the Plain of Sharon, around the headland of Carmcl, 
 and so on by Tyre and Sidon ; or you may turn to the right 
 (to the east), and go up tlic gorge of the Dead Sea and 
 the Jordan hy Jericho, and so on to the Sea of Galilee, the 
 waters of IIuleh»or INIerom to Dan, to Hermon ; or, again, 
 you may pass up through the centre over the backbone of 
 the land, a ridge descending, with gorges and sjuirs, on one 
 side toward the Mediterranean, and on the other toward the 
 Jordan . 
 
 But this difference in surface, in plain, mountain, and alti- 
 tude, affects the climate of Palestine more than any other 
 land of the same size. There is no rain from March to 
 November. In the long, burning summer, the fountains, the 
 streams, dry up. From every thing around, "^yater I " is the 
 universal cry. Water is sold for a i)rice. Nature, beasts, men, 
 wilt, wither, and look forward through these seven scorching 
 months with longing for the return of the rainy season. 
 Nothing is so musical as the "sound of abundance of rain." 
 First there are mists, then clouds, tlien rain ; then the land 
 is sown. Afterward the earth is drenched. If a full meas- 
 ure of rain descend in the winter, wheat and barley Avill get 
 root and strength fur a full harvest in May or June, although 
 the rain may cease by the end of j\Iarch. The time of har- 
 vest varies in different parts of the land. The threshing- 
 floors on the Jordan Valley are full by the 12tli of May, at 
 Hebron by the 4tli or 5th of June. From November to 
 March the weather alternates from rain to sunshine. . . . 
 
 It is the great curse and calamity of Palestine that the 
 groves of palm that once adorned her plains, and the oaks 
 that once crowned her summits, have been cut down. Few 
 are found, like the messengers of Job, to tell of the destruc- 
 tion that has been made. Patches arc still rudely cultivated 
 where grow wheat, barley, cotton, rice, sugarcane, gourds, 
 bananas, sweet-potatoes, peas, cabbage, onions, and other 
 jjarden vejijetables. 
 
 But the solemn reflection, after all, is the desolation. . . . 
 The unbelief of Israel, their disobedience to the God of their 
 fathers, their rejection and crucifixion of Christ, have brought 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 171 
 
 down the curse : " A fruitful land niakctli He barren for 
 the wickedness of them that dwell therein.". . . 
 
 . . . Peculiarities in the face of the country make peculi- 
 arities in the imagination and si:)eech of the people. The 
 Hio-hlander is by country different from the Hollander. 
 Israel was a solitary people, set apart to a separate land. 
 The policy, locality, and ancestry of Israel made them pecul- 
 iar in thought, poetry, religion. In Bible lands things have 
 stood still for two thousand years. In Western countries 
 changes forbid that an aged man sliould know his ovrn birth- 
 place after fifty years. But in Palestine, the dress, the modes 
 of travel, of cultivating the soil, the roads, the houses, are 
 the same as they were centuries ago. While the rest of the 
 world have been whirling along by steam, by lightning, the 
 camel-trains, the tents of the Bedouins, are abroad as they 
 were in the time of Isaac when he went out to meditate. 
 The Bible is best read in the light of its own scenery. 
 Sacred geography and sacred history go together. Physical 
 facts are the symbols of truth. In Palestine the Bible is the 
 best handbook, and Jesus the best Guide. He knows every 
 locality ; He comprehends the scenery, the historical associa- 
 tions, the spiritual significance ; He has been there before. 
 
 These earthly footsteps of our Lord impress the conviction 
 both of His divinity and humanity. It is the true medium 
 not to look at His divinity to the exclusion of His humanity, 
 nor so to magnify His humanity as to obscure His divinity. 
 He was God and man, one unique personality, meeting in a 
 single consciousness. " The Word was made flesh, and dwelt 
 among us." The human was the medium of the divine. 
 When the Son of God built the hill of Bethlehem, scooped 
 out the basin of Nazareth, and cleaved the gorge between 
 Jerusalem and Olivet, it was for the very purpose of prepar- 
 ing the fittest place for the birth, the growth, the death, of 
 the Son of Mary. 
 
 . . . Who can doubt the history of Crispus Sallust when 
 he finds his name on the charred and ruined habitation 
 
172 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 recently uncovered at Pompeii? Some have insisted tliat 
 ancient Troy, Priam her king, and Homer, who sang her 
 downfall, were myths, mere legend and song. What Avill 
 these sceptics do with the hoary vestiges lately exhnmed on 
 the site of the ancient city, hearing the name of Priam, 
 exhibiting specimens of his palace and the furniture that 
 adorned it? Do not these witnesses, so long silent and shim- 
 herino-, now give to Troy, to Priam, "a local habitatit)n and a 
 name " ? So now Bethlehem, Nazareth, Jerusalem, remain the 
 solemn, truthful monuments of the birth, the life, the death, 
 of Christ. 
 
 Influence of jMohammerlanism upon Education. 
 
 . , . The traveler accustomed to the cheerfulness and free- 
 dom of Christian civilization, in passing through Egypt and 
 Palestine, feels himself under the sallow light of an eclipse, 
 tlie shadow of the raven wing. And as he chafes against blind 
 and unreasonable restraints, he reaches around wildly for an 
 answer to questions that push themselves upon his inquiry : 
 How did this Mohammedan power first gain its hold ? how 
 did it extend its grasp from the Himalaya to the Pyrenees? 
 how has it retained its power for fourteen hundred 
 years over more than one hundred millions of the human 
 race? and how can this ])Ower be subverted? True mental 
 culture in Egypt and Palestine are in close conflict with fos- 
 silized error and ignorance. Some attempt to answer these 
 questions will bring out what I have to say upon education 
 in Egypt and Palestine. 
 
 How did the Arabian prophet first gain his hold upon his 
 countrymen? He struck his roots in tlie right soil. In 
 Arabia Petrfea these roots were indeed "wi-apt around the 
 place of stones." Mohammed was great by nature. Sinewy, 
 sagacious, electrifying in his person and genius, he knew, he 
 felt, his superiority over the groveling masses amund him. 
 He saw the pusillanimity, the degradation, of their worship ; 
 he saw through and despised their idols. Alone he had 
 ranged the desert under the stars, and looked witli adoring 
 eye to the silent immensity. He read the spirituality, grand- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 173 
 
 eur, and nnity of God from His works, and the divinity stirred 
 within. He had listened to the Hebrew record and to the 
 Christian Scriptures, and his conceptions of nature were filled 
 out by those of revelation. He Avas of the noble tribe that 
 had in charge the Caaba, the temple enshrining the ''Black 
 Stone," which the children of Ishmael believed an angel had 
 sent down from heaven as a tombstone for Abraham. Mo- 
 hammed was a son of Ishmael, and hence a descendant of 
 Abraliam. The Arabs, then as now, lived in tents. The 
 Arab is the child of the desert, and so is his horse. He buys 
 his wild freedom by exposure and alarm. His " hand is 
 against every man, and every man's hand against him." The 
 women are servants, to take care of the flocks, the camels, 
 the tents. The young men nourish the virtues of the soldier, 
 and master the bow, the javelin, and the cimeter. These 
 Saracens have never been conquered on their own soil. 
 When pursued, the desert opens a wa}-^ of escape. The Arab 
 is still by profession a robber. He confounds the idea of 
 stranger and enemy. He believes and practices the creed 
 that the best divisions of the world were given to other 
 nations, in order that the posterity of Ishmael, the outlaw, 
 might recover his just right by his sword and by his bow. 
 When the Bedouin discovers from afar a solitary traveler, 
 with his stirrup he touches the side of his mare, and darts 
 like an arrow toward the stranger, uttering the loud cry, 
 "Undress thyself! " A ready submission entitles to mercy. 
 Resistance will be likely to end in blood. The Rev. Mr. 
 Crawford, an American missionar}' at Damascus, informed 
 me that he was thus stripped naked by a Bedouin robber, 
 and left to find his way home, some thirty miles across the 
 wilderness. 
 
 Now JMohammed was one of these wild sons of the desert. 
 His deep insight, fiery eloquence, and intrepid daring, were 
 the seeds for such soil. His system was adapted to the taste, 
 the temperament, of the people. To his original poAvers and 
 persuasiveness it was an additional grace, in the estimation 
 of his uncultivated countrymen, that he could neither read 
 nor write. With them, the more ignorance, the more inspira- 
 
174 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 tion. To the lofty minds among his people who felt the 
 puerilities of idolatry, or to those who had been confused by 
 the subtleties of an abused and corrupted Christianity, he 
 was alike happy in presenting the simple unity of the Creator. 
 To the Jew he claimed to be the descendant of Abraham ; to 
 the Christian he admitted the divine mission of Jesus Christ ; 
 to the warlike he gave the sword as the key to the kingdom 
 of heaven ; to those who groped in darkness for the gateway 
 of immortality, he painted in gorgeous hues a sensual para- 
 dise. His heaven was not too holy for the impure, not too 
 refined for the blunted apprehension of the ignorant, not too 
 sober and matter of fact for the poetic and imaginative. 
 Gardens fairer than Eden, watered by a thousand streams, 
 adorned by flowers of every hue, abounding with fruits for 
 every taste, all that an Oriental fancy could depict, all that 
 a luxurious languor could desire, — this was his paradise. 
 
 From this review of the art, the adaptations of his system 
 to his clime, to his countrymen, to the phases of the times, 
 with such combinations of truth from the Bible, with such 
 alliance with a powerful tribe, an honorable family, with an 
 opulent marriage, all methodized, appropriated, fused, fired 
 by the genius, bravery, enthusiasm of the author, — in view 
 oJE all these advantages, we may admit the very moderate 
 beginnings of the Arabian prophet in the Arabian cities. 
 
 We come now to the next question. How did this system 
 widen to such an extent? Three years, and he had gained 
 thirteen followers ; twelve years, and he had the control of 
 Medina, to which his Hegira brought him in 622. But had 
 Mohammed stopped with peaceful and persuasive means, we 
 had never heard of the impostor. Such appliances to the 
 stupid, the obstinate, the hostile, Avere too slow, too doubtful. 
 It was not the sword of the Spirit, but the veritable steel, 
 that gave enlargement and victory. The sword was the 
 gospel of the Eastern reformer. Witli this his conquests 
 began. His terms to the blind, idolatrous world were: "Pro- 
 fes's ; admit that there is but one God, and that Mohammed 
 is His prophet, — and paradise is your portion. Cling to your 
 idols and your errors, and your doom is perdition. We are 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 175 
 
 God's avengers to reduce His foes to submission. The hilts 
 of all our ciineters are in His hands. The hero who falls in 
 this cause is snatched to heaven. Up, then, with the crescent 
 banner, dripping witii idolatrous gore. Let it flash o'er the 
 mountain and plain till our sickles have gleaned tlie earth. 
 The sword is the key of heaven and hell. A drop of blood 
 spilled in the cause of Allah, a night spent in arms, is of more 
 account than two months spent in fasting and prayer. Who- 
 soever falls in battle, his sins are forgiven. In the day of 
 judgment, his wounds shall be resplendent as vermilion, and 
 odoriferous as musk." 
 
 Thus religious zeal, mingling with mental enthusiasm, 
 images of paradise and perdition floating before the imagina- 
 tion, the love of plunder, victory, power, combined in the 
 storm, the whirlwind of human passions, that rose from the 
 sands of Arabia, and, like a sirocco of dust and darkness, 
 swept one way to the Ganges, and the other way across 
 Egypt, the northern states of Africa, passing the Straits of 
 Gibraltar, through Spain, to the walls of Paris ; and had it 
 not been for the heavy blows of Charles the Hammer, on 
 the plains of Tours, a.d. 732, England, Scotland, and Ireland 
 had fallen before the Saracens, and we to-night had been 
 the disciples of the Koran. . . . 
 
 It is still more wonderful that this system should have 
 retained its hold for thirteen centuries. ... It has pressed 
 like a nightmare upon the fairest portions of the East, and 
 more than one hundred millions still grope under its shadow. 
 . . . In the first eruptions of Mohammedanism, like Vesuvius, 
 its light was brilliant and lurid ; but, as the glare of conquest 
 went out, darkness and ashes fell upon the countries where 
 it had lield sway, smothering the pulse of intellectual life 
 and progress, detaining education at the same status as it 
 found it in the seventh century. After the first dash from 
 its head-spring, Mohammedan civilization grew sluggish, Sty- 
 gian, like the waters of the Dead Sea, stirred by no splash 
 of the oar, and with difficulty lashed into waves, even by the 
 wind from tlie wiVlerne?s. Egypt the mother of empires, 
 Palestine, the land of Solomon and of "a greater than 
 
176 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Solomon,'' have been walled around by a bank of darkness, 
 too dense for the sun to dissipate, through which no light- 
 nings could vibrate. Creep your way through the smoke 
 and filth of an Arab village ; pass along the low, black tents 
 of the Bedouin, — and you will be chilled by the sadness 
 and austerity of every face. Childhood is without a smile. 
 Their songs are dirges. The donkey and the camel, forlorn 
 creatures, keep their march to a minor tune. In my journey 
 through the land, save a wedding or two to which I longed 
 in vain for an invitation, all was sombre, — women plowing, 
 men lounging, smoking, no shout of laughter, no glee, no 
 fun. Two sportive sights did me good like a medicine. 0ne 
 was a young donkey kicking up its heels as if in derision of 
 our poor burdened mules as they passed ; the other, a flock 
 of kids frisking, skipping, running "around the shepherds' 
 tents." 
 
 The gloom and ignorance so long upon Egypt and Pales- 
 tine are legitimate exhalations of the Koran. What is not 
 taught, say they, in that sacred book, is profane : hence the 
 Islam faith repels modern discoveries, science, progress. Its 
 harness is all breeching. One of the straps that holds back 
 is the doctrine of a blind fate. It begets in the minds of 
 the people a stupid immobility. Do tyrants oppress, does 
 the small-pox threaten, does the cholera appear, instead of 
 "taking arms against a sea of troubles," instead of fleeing 
 to vaccination, instead of experimenting for a remedy, they 
 have but one answer, " God has so willed it." The poor 
 Bedouin, when overtaken by sickness in the desert, wraps 
 himself in his blanket, and lies down to die, depending upon 
 the winds to sing his requiem, and to blow the sands over 
 him for his burial. 
 
 Even from the native schools this popular ignorance gains 
 strength and permanency. The Koran teaches certain pray- 
 ers, penances, duties. To fulfd these, they must be known. 
 In cities and villages there seems to be abundant means to 
 support these schools. According to the sacred book, prayer 
 is one step to heaven, fasting is another, generous giving is 
 the last. Yi/'hen a rich Mohammedan is about to die, and 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 177 
 
 has some reason for qualms about his past life, he makes all 
 sure by a large bequest to the mosque. These sacred treas- 
 ures have been collecting for centuries. Vast foundations 
 are thus laid for schools. But these schools arc never 
 intended to give more than a very dim religious light. The 
 Koran is the only text-book for the juvenile beginner and 
 for the graduate of the highest universit}'. Coming away 
 from the " tombs of the patriarchs," at Hebron, upon v.'hicli 
 Moslem bigotry does not allow a Jew or a Christian to look, 
 I passed througli one of the main streets, and hearing a 
 discordant noise in a basement-story, involuntarily rushed 
 down the steps to ascertain the cause of such sounds of 
 distress. It Avas a Moslem school. The light, the air, might 
 have been improved. No desks, no seats. Two hundred 
 boys stand around an aged sheik in full regalia, — blue coat 
 and red fez. He sits on the ground. His example of a 
 violent see-saw motion is imitated by the boys as all together, 
 at the top of their voices, they read extracts from the Koran 
 written on plates of tin. I was told that in a majority of 
 cases, pupils do not by this process learn to spell and read 
 sentences of Arabic so that they can understand any other 
 book. But the pride of the teacher is to turn out as many 
 boys as possible who can repeat from memory the largest 
 portion of the Koran. It is not the object of this educational 
 system to enlighten or expand the intellect, but simply to 
 bind the youth to tlie forms and to the faith of their fathers. 
 When we reflect that the girls are entirely left out of the 
 schools, like the young animals of tlie field, that half the 
 population are excluded from all education, tlrat the noble 
 mission of woman in training the young is ignored, is it too 
 much to say that these native schools are an element of that 
 cloud of darkness which enshrouds the land? If then, the 
 liglit that is in them be darkness, how great is that darkness! 
 Now this school at Hebron is an example of tlie pure unadul- 
 terated article. Hebron, a city of ten thousand inhabitants, 
 is exclusively jNIohammedan — no mail, no telegraph, no 
 railroad, no carriage-road, no newspaper, no printing-press,, 
 no vehicle save the hump of a camel or the bones of an ass/ 
 
178 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 creeping along the same bridle-path over which Abraham 
 rode four thousand years ago. Our consul at ,)cru:-alcin said 
 to me, "The native schools of Palestine are not worth looking 
 after. There is not one xVrab out of a hundred that can read 
 or write." 
 
 By a rule that crushes out enterprise, by a blind fatalism 
 that extinguishes a sense of responsibility, by a narrow sec- 
 tarian education, the native mind in Egypt and Palestine is 
 cramped, held back from progress and expansion. Methinks 
 the great Prophet himself, in his strength and originality, 
 would despise the results of his own system. In conclusion, 
 can we find any thing at work that bids fair to break through 
 this barricade of bigotry and ignorance? 
 
 Revolution promises reform. This bombshell of revolution 
 has opened fissures that have sent vital currents into the 
 standing pool of Egyptian mind. . . . 
 
 In the words of our consul general at Cairo, "-The Egyp- 
 tians are eager to learn, and are susceptible of education to 
 a hifrh dejrree : and, if public instruction receives the official 
 encouragement in the future that it has during the past ten 
 years, Egypt Avill soon rank with many of the European 
 states in educational attainment.'" The revolution, then, of 
 Mohammed Ali and his reigning house, has broken in upon 
 the blindness and torpor of the national mind of Egypt. 
 
 Again : modern i}iventions and arts, started by the activi- 
 ties of a Christian civilization, are proving potent educators. 
 They are the disturbers of this Oriental inertia. The whistle 
 of tlie locomotive is waking u]) the Rip Van Winkles all 
 along the Sleepy Hollow of the Nile. The steamboat is stir- 
 ring the Dead Sea of Eastern mind. The telegraph is send- 
 ing electric shocks through the paralyzed nerves of society. 
 Moslems and monks are arousing, astonished to find out 
 what has been going on in their long slumbers. It is cheer- 
 ing to the traveler from the New World to look on a train 
 of cars from the shore, meeting a train of camels from the 
 desert ; on one side to see a woman spinning from a distaff 
 she holds in her hand the fine linen of Egypt, as in the time 
 the tabernacle was built, and on the other to hear the click 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 179 
 
 of a Singer's sewing-machine. As kerosene from Titusville 
 is lighting every night tlic cities of Egypt and Palestine, and 
 even the tent of the Bedouin far out in the desert, so ideas 
 from the inventions of the New World are gleaming over the 
 same lands. The American plow becomes a preacher, the 
 printing-press a missionary. 
 
 Modern commerce is also a great educator in Egypt. It 
 brings light and good-will on its white wings. It has broken 
 through the Isthmus of Suez. What Alexander and Napo- 
 leon only prophesied of, modern gold and enterprise have 
 achieved. Commerce is a true civilizer; Clinton and Less- 
 eps, the great apostles. 
 
 But the most hopeful influences for the education of mind 
 in Egypt and Palestine are tlie schools j^la^ited hy the churches 
 of America and Great Britain. Gold and intellect have been 
 devoted to this work. Liberal and enlightened in their 
 instruction, these schools have proved the most direct gate- 
 way to the education of the people. To the American trav- 
 eler nothing is more refreshing than to find these centres of 
 light. IMen, acquaintances from our own free country, are 
 cheerfully bearing expatriation and self-denial to dissipate 
 the darkness and superstition of these lands from which the 
 licht first came. The armor of the Mohammedans is most 
 vulnerable through science. The soul craves truth, expan- 
 sion. Even Mohammedan parents love their children, and 
 wish their advancement. Young men see their way to suc- 
 cess in life through education. They pursue study as a 
 means of influence and power. This liglit and expansion 
 disenthrall the mind from ignorance, from old and dark sys- 
 tems. It was a wise policy of the American missionaries at 
 Beirut to begin the work of education with the children of 
 the poor at the base of the social pyramid. . . . The natural 
 outgrowth of these primary schools and colleges is an active 
 and intellif/ent press. Steam-power is employed in printing 
 Arabic Bibles, school-books, monthly and weekly periodicals. 
 Beirut is a focus from wliicli to radiate truth over mountain 
 and vale far away, till one hundred million of Arabic-speak- 
 ing people shall be reached by the influences of science and 
 Christianity. . . . 
 
180 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Near tlie Capitoline Hill in Rome there stands a section 
 of an old wall, made of the ancient Roman brick. It has 
 defied the storms of many centuries, and the battering-rams 
 of sieges ; and yet time did but cement it in strength and 
 defiance. But as I passed by, I saw it cleaving asunder. 
 Some time in the past, a seed from the live-oak fell into a 
 crevice, and took root ; b}' its growth and expansive power 
 it went on splitting and dividing particles, bricks, masses, 
 till a seam was opened from top to bottom. What chiliads, 
 ■what cannon, could not do, Mas achieved by the life and 
 silent power of a single seed. So these old, over-towering 
 battlements of error may survive revolving ages, may defy 
 the attacks of force, but will yield before the vital, insinu- 
 ating, expanding power of truth. 
 
 It is the office of the educator to plant this seed of truth. 
 
 Damascus, April 13, 1874. 
 
 My DEAii Wife, — I have been hastening on through 
 Palestine. Came to Damascus last Saturday night. This 
 morning I have been making arrangements to visit, not East 
 Palmyra, but ancient Palmyra. Rev. Mr. Wright, a Scotch 
 missionary, has agreed to go with me. There are missionary 
 stations within fifty miles of the old city. To-morrow I 
 expect to go with Cook's party to Baalbec, and hope to 
 return to Damascus by Saturdaj^ next ; then the next Tues- 
 day morning Mr. Wright and myself take our Avay across 
 the desert to that lone spot, the Tadmor of the wilderness. 
 So I hope to see the most sj)lendid ruins in the world. . . . 
 
 The Lord has been very gracious to me since I left home. 
 The lateness of my journey has saved to me an opportunity 
 of travel through Palestine. The cold has held on, and the 
 rain has made the ways impassable to parties before ours 
 came. We are 'the first that have gone through. My jour- 
 ney has been rapid ; my health good. 
 
 Remember me to the sick, to the Sabbath-school, to neigh- 
 bors — to all. . . . 
 
 The wish of liis heart — to see the first, the oldest Palmyra — was 
 denied him. Incipient symptoms of Damascus-fever obliged him most 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 181 
 
 reluctantly to give up this journey. lie followed the advice of physicians, 
 and, leaving the tainted air of that city, proceeded at once to Beirut, 
 where he soon recovered. 
 
 He would greatly have enjoyed a visit to ancient Ephesus, but the 
 excursion was on the Sabbath. He remained in Smyrna and observed 
 holy time. 
 
 From his journal : — 
 
 May 10, 1874. I kept the Sabbath aboard ship 'in the har- 
 bor of Smyrna. Back of the city, on a hill in pLiin sight, 
 was the monument of Polycarp, a native of Smyrna, a dis- 
 ciple of the apostle John, pastor of the church at Smyrna, 
 put to death in the year 1G7, at the age of one hundred and 
 four. He was probably "the angel of the church at Smyrna," 
 to whom tlie apostle wrote, " I know thy works and tribula- 
 tion and poverty; but thou art rich. Fear none of those 
 things which thou shalt suffer. Be thou faithful unto death, 
 and I will give thee a crown of life." During the persecu- 
 tion under Marcus Aurelius, he was seized, and carried before 
 the Roman proconsul at Smyrna. Being urged to curse 
 Clirist, he replied, " Six and eighty years I have served Him, 
 and He has done me nothing but good ; and how could I 
 curse Him, my Lord and Saviour? If you would know what 
 I am, I tell you frankly, I am a Christian." He was thrown 
 to the beasts of the theatre, and devoured for the recreation 
 of tlie assembled people ; but some assert that he was burned 
 at the stake. On Monday morning I went forth to visit the 
 sepulchre. Over the rough monument towers a splendid 
 evergreen, the cypress. I felt the sacredness of the spot, 
 and the trial and triumph of the martyr. Here was the 
 theatre, the stadium where he suffered. Wild beasts could 
 destroy his body ; Ijut his name is held in perpetual verdure. 
 
 During liis delightful stay at Constantinople he was entertained at 
 Robert College, at the request of his old friend, the founder. We have 
 no room for quotations from lectures on that beautiful city, on " Six 
 Days in Athens," on the " Catacombs of Rome," or for further notes of 
 travel, save two short letters, the first dated — 
 
182 liEV. HORACE EATOX, D.D. 
 
 Slough, Exglaxd, July 2, 1874. 
 
 My dear Wife, — Rose early ; did "Windsor Castle ; passed 
 to Eton College, thence to Morton, the home of John Milton ; 
 through Dachet, celebrated by Shakespeare in his '' ^lerry 
 Wives of Windsor." On my way to Oxford I was detained 
 some two hours and a half at Slough. 
 
 Signifying my regrets to the man at the depot, he said, 
 " Take to your feet by a path through the fields. Two miles 
 will bring you to Stoke Pogis, where is the tomb of Gray 
 and the 'country churchyard' of Avhicli he sings in his 
 Elegy." I had already walked eight miles; but the thought 
 of seeing that quiet nook in Old England pictured in Gray's 
 Elegy, made my feet like hind's feet, and I was away, 
 through a landscajje of which I cannot withhold a descrip- 
 tion. " The time, how lovely and how still ! " It was near 
 the pensive hour of the setting sun. There was the " lulled 
 tinkling," the lowing of the herds returning home. The 
 bells from the curfew tower on Windsor Castle were send- 
 ing out their chimes over the landscape. It was the very 
 moment the poet described. The fields of wheat and oats 
 through which I passed were gently waving in the breeze. 
 Hundreds of rooks walked about unscared, upon the newly- 
 mown fields. The hawthorn hedges that divide and adorn 
 the doAvns have just passed from the flower to the thick-set 
 fruit, while the sweetbrier lifts its blossoms above the thorn, 
 lending beauty and fragrance to the vale. 
 
 Through such enchantment I made my way from Slough 
 to Stoke Pogis. A wicket-gate opens to the copse that 
 shades the monolith, one side of which bears the name of the 
 gentle poet. He died 1771. This monument was erected 
 by one of the descendants of William Penn. The family of 
 the Penns are buried here. Near by is the ancient church 
 with its " ivy-mantled tower," where " the moping owl does 
 to the moon complain." There are still "the yew-tree's 
 shade," the tombless hillocks where "the rude forefathers 
 of the hamlet sleep." 
 
 As I walked in this cemetery, this sleeping-place of the 
 dead, I was alone. Not a house or a living person in sight. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 183 
 
 This spot, so embalmed in elegiac song, the noisy outside 
 world has not yet desecrated. The sentiment of seclusion 
 and retreat is heightened by contrast. In full view is Wind- 
 sor Castle. The ample folds of the British flag, floating 
 from the pinnacle, declare that the Queen and retinue are 
 there in state. 
 
 But the quiet of centuries rests upon the "country 
 churchyard," and the ancestry of its gifted poet. 
 
 Edinburgh, Aug. 4, 1874. 
 
 My deae, Wife, — Of all the places I have seen since I 
 left my native shores, none seem so much like home as this 
 Athens of Scotland. Indeed, the hills in and about Edin- 
 burgh much resemble those that are in and about Athens ; 
 and there, too, is the old and the new town quite as distinct 
 as in the more distant city. Religious and educational insti- 
 tutions and hospitals abound here. Tlie people are staid and 
 self-reliant, and controlled by high principle. 
 
 As I passed through the cemeteries of the dead, I was 
 struck with the illustrious names. Walter Scott was born 
 but a few rods from where I sit. They have reared for him 
 the finest piece of monumental architecture that I have seen, 
 and it was conceived and wrought out by a plain man, a 
 master-mason, named Keep. This laboring man had been 
 cherishing thoughts upon architecture, which, wdien devel- 
 oped, placed him ahead of any who had given their lives to 
 that line of study. But here, as in the case of Burns, was a 
 melancholy end. Poor Keep no sooner forced himself up 
 into eminence by his genius than the rich and great began 
 to feast him, parade him, and treat him. This diverted him 
 from that life of industry and sobriety which he had followed. 
 He lost his balance, and, after a night of intemperance, was 
 found a corpse in the canal. The great evil of Scotland is 
 whiskey. 
 
 Moody and Sankey have done great good here. How 
 wonderful that two American laymen should be made the 
 instruments of working such a reformation in this refined 
 capital ! They came here in simple but strong faitli in Christ. 
 
184 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 ... I was especially instructed by witnessing the direct, 
 earnest, honest appeal of inquiring minds to the word of 
 God. Their Bibles were open as the minister read and 
 preached from the Scriptures. The intellect so intent on 
 feeding upon the Word seemed to me the key to the pre- 
 cious work of grace in their hearts. ... I have greatly 
 enjoyed the meetings and tlie Christian fellowslhp I have 
 found in Scotland. 
 
 It has been truly said that traveling reveals the man. In the car or 
 the steamei", in the hotel or the tent, it was evident that Dr. Eaton's 
 was the motto of the Christian gentleman, "In honor preferring one 
 another." Amid all the inconveniences of the way he -was ever the 
 cheerful, unselfish traveling-companion. 
 
 We have received this letter from Dr. Bancroft of Phillips Academy, 
 Andover, Mass. 
 
 Mrs. a. R. Eatox. Axdovku, Mass., April, 1881. 
 
 Dear Madam, — On Lake Windermere, in the gray of a rainy morn- 
 ing, an English gentleman who stood near me on the deck of the little 
 steamer addressed me with some indifferent but friendly remark, and we 
 soon found ourselves mutually introduced, and carrying on a brisk con- 
 versation. He spoke of a trip to Egypt and Palestine in 187-1, in which 
 he became much attached to an American gentleman who traveled wdth 
 him. Rev. Dr. Horace Eaton of Palmyra, N.Y. He afterward had him 
 at his home in London, and valued him among his choice friends. He 
 enforced what he had said by some comments on America and Ameri- 
 cans, on certain other members of the party, and by incidents which 
 brought out the admirable qualities of your husband, his learning, his 
 good-fellowship, his Christian courtesy, and regard for others. This gen- 
 tleman was Rev. AViUiam P. GriflBth. 
 
 From a sermon preached the Sabbath after his return to his people : — 
 . . . When I left you on the 5tli of February last, I had 
 not time or opportunity to tender my thanks for your great 
 kindness. Permit me now to express my gratitude to the 
 cliildren of the Sabbath-school, to the families and members 
 of the congregation, and to those not of the congregation, 
 far off and near, who granted me the furhnigh, and who so 
 generously aided me in my outfit. Through your liberality 
 a sufficient amount was vested to meet the expenses of ray 
 journey. On this foundation I received from the bank of 
 
TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 185 
 
 Messrs. Cuyler and Sexton a letter-of-credit. Tins wtis my 
 only financial dependence. I kept it near my heart. To me 
 it seemed almost impudent, to you it would have been at 
 least amusing, to have seen the firmness of step with which 
 a stranger, a foreigner, so insignificant in his own name and 
 financial ability, could enter those distant temples of ex- 
 change, and demand the requisite gold. They did not ask 
 who or what I was. They looked alone at my indorser. 
 My confidence was in the name of another, — in the letter- 
 of-credit I brought from Palmyra. This was my authority 
 in London, in Paris, in Egypt, in Constantinople. 
 
 But, dear hearers, I had a name, a letter-of-credit far more 
 prevalent. To my letter from Palmyra there was a limit 
 beyond which I could not draw. There were certain places 
 in which I could not draw. There were many necessities 
 which your letter could not supply. But the name of Jesus, 
 and the letter-of-credit which He gave, ran thus: "Whatso- 
 ever ye shall ask the Father in my name. He will do it." 
 Jesus had died for me. He had laid up in the bank of 
 Heaven a credit on my behalf that I could not overdraw, 
 alike available in every place and for every necessity. 
 
 The name, the letter-of-credit founded on the merits of 
 Jesus, subordinated all the agencies of nature for my safety 
 against the perils of the ocean, the perils of the city, and the 
 perils of the wilderness. Still niore, His loving ;jres(^«ce con- 
 descended to attend me to the ship, to sail with me, to be 
 my companion in the cabin, in the tent, and by the way. 
 He opened up to me His own power and majesty as mirrored 
 in the billows of the great and wide sea. His hand raised 
 the stormy wind. His voice said, " Peace, be still." " The 
 sea is His, for He made it." 
 
 In the Tower of London He showed me the footsteps of 
 the King of kings as He came marching down the ages, 
 setting up one, and putting down another. While gliding 
 through the valleys of Southern Europe, He pointed me a 
 way to the heights of Piedmont, where " the bones of His 
 slaughtered saints lay bleaching on the Alpine mountains 
 cold." At Rome He opened to me the arena where His 
 
186 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 followers were cast to the wild beasts, and took me down 
 into the Catacombs, those sepulchral halls where the faithful 
 used to retire for prayer and to celebrate His death. He 
 spread out before me the landscape of vine-clad Italy and the 
 colors of His pencil that garnished its sunsets. 
 
 Jesus went with me to Egypt, where He spent a part of 
 His infancy ; attended me to the spot of His birth, to the hill 
 country Avhere He was brought up, to the lake where He 
 stilled the tempest, to the garden of His agony, the mount 
 of His ascension. . . . 
 
 But this Jesus who went out and came in with me is not 
 merely the personage who lived in the time of the Csesars, 
 and stood before Pilate, but the ever-present, living Christ, 
 whose word is, "I am He who liveth and was dead, and be- 
 hold I am alive foreverraore." He it was, who said, " I am 
 with thee alway, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." 
 For such strange, astonishing kindness to one so unworthy, I 
 would renewedly consecrate myself to a more humble, trust- 
 ing, and obedient service. 
 
 THE RETURN OF THE PASTOR. 
 
 Praise Him who smoothed our pastor's path 
 
 Across the boisterous main ; 
 Disarmed tlie tempests of their wrath, 
 
 And brought him home again ; 
 
 Who led him on to view the land, — 
 
 The land by Jesus trod ; 
 And on the very Mount to stand, 
 
 From which He went to God; 
 
 To see the Salem of the seers, 
 
 The spot where David sang, 
 Where Jesus shed His bitterest tears, 
 
 And gave His life for man. 
 
 And now once more among his own, 
 
 The people of his choice, 
 We join to pour before the throne 
 
 Our thanks with heart and voice. 
 
 Kev. John Spaulding, D.D. 
 September, 1871. 
 
LETTERS. 187 
 
 To his uncle, Nathaniel Eaton, on his hundredth birthday: — 
 
 April 30, 1875. 
 
 My dear and honored Uncle, — And this will reach 
 you on the one hundredth anniversary of your birth ! Fortu- 
 nate man ! How few continue who begpn life with you ! 
 How many have died since you began to live ! A single 
 year is a large portion of our earthly pilgrimage. Thirty 
 such fractions make up the average of human life. The 
 watch that should tick through a whole year without wind- 
 ing must have a fine and flexible mainspring. Firm as steel 
 those wheels of life, tough the sinewy heart, compressed the 
 vital force, that, without missing a pulse, beats off the sec- 
 onds of a century. Your physical framework was of no 
 trembling, no flimsy material. Your web of life shows a 
 double stroke to the loom, with no stint to the warp and 
 woof. 
 
 But, my dear uncle, you are not only fortunate in the pos- 
 session of a century, but in the selection of your century. 
 Your cradle was rocked by the earthquake of the Revolution. 
 The moment was a meridian in the nation's, in the world's 
 history. Your coming was fifteen days after the battle of 
 Lexington, forty-four days before the battle of Bunker Hill, 
 in which Captain Nathaniel Eaton, your own father, led on 
 his patriot band. . . . 
 
 In this one hundred years what times have gone over you ! 
 What triumphs you have witnessed ! The increase of light, 
 the widening of the area of freedom, the snapping of fetters 
 that have bound the bodies, the souls, of men, have greeted 
 you all along your pilgrimage. . . . But the century-plant is 
 identified with the spot where it grows. The history of Sut- 
 ton blends with that of your own life. You are one of the 
 early and the few whose sturdy blows chased away the dense 
 forests, and opened the soil and the silex to the sun. ... I 
 have an excellent picture of j^ou, taken when you were 
 eighty-nine years of age, hung in a conspicuous place in one 
 of my rooms. A look at that brings back more of my youth- 
 ful days than any other memento of the past. ... I well 
 remember when you built your new house, and how those 
 
188 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 green blinds struck my youthful eye. I remember when 
 
 your new chaise was bought, and when you rode in it for 
 
 the iirst time on Sunday to the South Meeting-liousc, and 
 
 how I ran after you as far as the Peter Pkice. Hoav I 
 
 enjoyed the morning when yourself. Uncle A., and other 
 
 patriots of the neighborhood, went by to the town-nieeting 
 
 the second Tuesday in March ! 
 
 . . . As I turn from your past to your future, my dear 
 
 uncle, I still more rejoice. Though, for the sake of the 
 
 living, I might be glad to have you arrive late to heaven, 
 
 I can but give thanks that good men may die, that Jesus 
 
 has robbed death of its terrors, and gone to prepare mansions 
 
 for them that love Ilim. Providence permitting, I hope to 
 
 see you the coming summer. . . . 
 
 May S, 187G. 
 
 My DEAii BiiOTHER Jacob, — . . . With grateful luunilia- 
 tion I can but tell you what the Lord has done for us as a 
 church. Yesterday we welcomed, on profession of their 
 faith, one hundred and two jjcrsons, also eleven by letter. 
 To fifty-five of these I administered the ordinance of bap- 
 tism. To God be all the glory ! My strength has held out 
 wonderfully. My youth has been renewed. I have been 
 anointed with fresh oil. Pray that the Divine Spirit may 
 
 not be grieved away. 
 
 Palmyha, X.Y., July i, 1877. 
 
 j\Iy deae, BnoTHER J., — The celebration of the nation's 
 birth comes to our house draped. Nine years ago our dear 
 John left us for the better land. This moniing I found my 
 journal of 1868. Tliore, under July 4th of that year, I had 
 written a minute account of his dcatli. I took it to our 
 breakfast-table and read it to the family. A recurrence to 
 that dark and solemn moment brings back the crisis tliat 
 almost unnerved me. You will remember how Edmund 
 Burke wrote when he lost a darling son who promised to 
 more than fill his father's i)lace : " The storm has gone over 
 me. I am like one of those old oaks that the recent tempest 
 has turned up. I would part with all my lienors for one 
 peck of bad wheat." Such was the moan of this great man 
 
LETTERS. 189 
 
 at the loss of his only son. Such was mine. But after 
 preaching the next Sabbath twice, I took a solitary walk. 
 The thought came to me as from tlie lips of my dear boy, 
 *' Don't surrender to this sorrow. Work on, still do battle 
 bravely for Christ, and the time will soon come when you 
 too shall come up hither." The thouglit strengthened me. 
 And then that passage, " Wait on the Lord and be of good 
 courage, and He shall strengthen thine heart; yea, I say, wait 
 on the Lord." These thoughts splintered up my broken 
 bones till the wound was healed. And I have gone on with 
 the hope that there will come a time when I shall know the 
 reasons of my affliction, and see the dear boy I so sorrowed 
 to lose. 
 
 There was no place he so loved to visit as the old homestead in New 
 Hampshu'e. 
 
 Eaton Grange, Warner, N.IL, Aug. 9, 1878. 
 
 My DEAr. Daughters, — My ride from Palmyra to Troy 
 was a continual song. The different piiases of traveling 
 never fail to divert my mind. The going to a place of rec- 
 reation is a delicious foretaste of that enjoyment. A copious 
 rain had preceded me. Every tree, flower, bird, seemed 
 revived. Nature was in her happiest attitude, a mirror of 
 divine goodness. Soil so rich, seasons so genial, productions 
 so abundant, flowers so fragrant, woodlands waving in the 
 wind and shimmering in the sun, air so fresh and tonic, — 
 all these cannot be gifts of a malignant Being ! The tint of 
 the rose, the flavor of the peach, the song of the lark, all tell 
 of a delicate, gratuitous, overflowing goodness in the Creator. 
 
 Wayne County never fails to greet the traveler with val- 
 leys fat and well-watered. This year Onondaga and Herki- 
 mer are not behi)id in richness. 
 
 As I passed along the Mohawk, the rain on meadows newly 
 mown, on the stubble of the late crop, inviting a later and 
 another harvest, suggested to me tliat, advanced as I was in 
 age, tl trough the rain of the Spirit, I miglit render yet some 
 service to the needy. . . . 
 
 The brothers and sisters, with their families, are coming 
 
190 HEV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 in. I try the brook to-day for trout or dace. I leave you 
 both in the good hands in which I leave myself. 
 
 Your Father. 
 
 To an invalid sister : — 
 
 Palmyra, April 21, 1877. 
 
 My dear Sister L., — . . . I snatch a moment, although 
 it is Saturday, to let you know that I have you constantly 
 in mind. I pray that your pain may be alleviated so far 
 as is consistent with God's glory and your eternal good. 
 Nothing can bear us up against disappointment, bereave- 
 ment, and strong pain, like the personal, loving presence of 
 Jesus Christ. And has lie not said, '■'-I will never leave thee 
 nor lorsake thee "? Head and ponder the first four verses of 
 the forty-third chapter of Isaiah. That bore me up like a 
 lifeboat all the way across the ocean. My health is good. 
 I work hard, and enjoy my work. How safe, how happy, we 
 are, when we can put our hand in God's hand to be led and 
 protected and saved ! My sun must at lengtli go down, but 
 I wish to do all I can and make the most of the thrums of 
 life. Dear sister, pray for me. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PASTORAL LABORS. — HOW HE MADE SERMONS. — HIS 
 STUDY. — USE OF ANALOGIES. — MUSINGS ON THE RAIL- 
 ROAD. — IMPROVEMENT OF CURRENT EVENTS AND PROVI- 
 DENCES. — WHEAT-HARVEST. — INTRODUCTION OF GAS. 
 — THE EIGHTH COMMANDMENT. — THE ORGAN. — NEW 
 year's SERMON, THE CLOCK. — FRAME-WORK OF EX- 
 TEMPORE SERMON. — FACETIOUSNESS. — PREACHING TO 
 CHILDREN. — PRAYERFULNESS. " TRIUMPH IN CHRIST." 
 
 Dr. Eaton was indefatigable as a pastor. The following extracts 
 from his journals and letters give samples of the work of many a day in 
 many a year : — 
 
 Tuesday, Feb. 10, 1860. My mind did not work well this 
 morning. The truth is, I must have some rest. When I do 
 not rest on Monday, I have to rest on Tuesday. 
 
 June 20, 1860. Called on Mrs. H. She will not live long. 
 Mrs. P. about the same. Find that Mr. O. has moved to 
 the house where Mr. B. used to live. Must call on them 
 this week. Mr. F. must have his marriage-certificate. Gave 
 
 a book to . Attended lecture in the evening. Acts 
 
 6 : 6-12. Teachers' meeting after lecture. 
 
 March 25, 1863. Was called up this morning at four 
 o'clock to see W. D. He thought himself dying, but he 
 revived. Dear boy, he asked me if he could do any thing 
 
 more than cast himself on Christ. Went to see and 
 
 and . Spoke in evening on Ps. 40 : 2, 3. Brother 
 
 H. present. Seventeen at the inquiry meeting. 
 
 April 6, 1863. Called on Mrs. S. She is trusting in 
 
 Christ. Called on . Found him in the barn. Had a 
 
 kind and faithful talk with him. Had a good time in prayer 
 with his parents. . . . 
 
 Sunday, 12th. Was very tired this morning. A full house. 
 My subject, " If I had not come and spoken to them," etc. 
 
192 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 . . . Some thirty at inquiry meeting in evening. (Then fol- 
 low their names.) 
 
 April 13. C. F. thinks she has found tlic Savionr, or, 
 rather, the Saviour has found her. j\lr. W.'s concert in 
 chnrcli this evening. Brothers F. and T. and S. were in my 
 study, and we talked and prayed about Zion. 
 
 Dear L., — This morning I left home at 8.30; rode to 
 
 where dear Mrs. died ; after a short service there, 
 
 followed tlie hearse to , preached a sermon in the 
 
 clnnch, attended the burial ; came back to Palmyra at 7.30 ; 
 hastened to perform a marriage-service at 8.30; have just 
 made a record of the whole thing, and now report progress 
 to my youngest daughter. Last week I made and preached 
 four sermons. The last funeral is the thirty-seventh to 
 which I have been called this year. Each funeral will 
 average one day's labor. I cannot find the time I would 
 like for visiting my parish. I am thankful that I have 
 strength to go througli so much. How long I shall stand 
 it, I cannot tell; but the work of ministering to this dear 
 people, the work of studying the Bible, and preacliing tlie 
 gospel, is glorious; it brings its own reward. I think of 
 you every day, and pray for you; liope you will be guided in 
 all things by the good hand of God ; trust Ilim at all times. 
 He has been my refuge in all troubles, great and small, and 
 He will be yours. In much haste and weakness. 
 
 Your affectionate father, 
 
 HoiiACE Eaton. 
 
 Palmyra, Jan. 11, 1877. 
 My dear M., — . . . The highways shut up as in the 
 days of Sharagar (Judg. 5:6).' Mr. sick. I under- 
 took to drive the pony there. Road partially broken. Train 
 across the track. Pony wet, the buffalo and the wolf-robe 
 
 wet, I was wet, — all wet. Found Mr. better. Hard 
 
 to turn the sleigh for home. No time for supper. Bell 
 ringing for mesting. But had a blessed meeting. Subject, 
 prayer for our country. The remarks by the brethren were 
 excellent. 
 
THE PASTOR. 193 
 
 I think of you and pray for you. I hope you will grow 
 in the knowledge of God's word, and have all that comfort, 
 strength, and joy, which comes from a sense of the presence 
 of the Saviour. . . . 
 
 Your loving father, 
 
 H. Eaton^. 
 
 Beside faithfulness in his own parish, he labored much for those who 
 belonged to nobody's parish. He was scrupulously careful lest he invade 
 the domain of a brother-clergyman, and when he met with those who 
 expressed a preference for a denomination other than his own, he 
 promptly and honorably gave over their names to the pastor or Sabbath- 
 school superintendent of the church of their choice. At the same time, 
 he called every one his parishioner, whether rich or poor, who attended 
 church nowhere, and endeavored to dispel their indifference, dissipate 
 their opposition, and arouse interest in divine things. Like his Master, 
 he sought " to seek and to save that which was lost." 
 
 There was no patronizing manner in his dealing with the wretched 
 and the outcast. They knew he loved them. They trusted him. They 
 were won to the right and to Christ by his influence. How would a 
 handshake like his between every man and his fellow, help to cure the 
 acrid spirit of socialism! 
 
 " The hand is index sure and true 
 Unto the heart. 
 
 It was not any word he said, 
 But just that care and sorrow fled 
 
 As if at his command. 
 'Twas not the smile upon his lip, 
 But just the honest, hearty grip 
 
 With which he shook ray hand." 
 
 Active and laborious as he was as a pastor, one feature of his commis- 
 sion he kept ever in the front : " Go, preach my gospel." He brought to 
 the pulpit " things new and old " from the Scriptures. To it he also 
 made " the riches of the Gentiles " tributary. His travels, all his studies 
 in nature, art, literature, were subordinated to it. Every gem he gazed 
 upon must garnish the uplifted ci'oss in the sight of his flock. 
 
 The seed-thoughts of sermons often lay germinating in his mind 
 weeks and months before full development. The first thing in making 
 his sermon was to laote down every thing nearly or remotely connected 
 with his subject in the Bible. In doing this he tolerated no English edi- 
 tion of the Holy Book, except the genume, tmabridged Bagster. He would 
 
194 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 then carefully examine the original Greek and Hebrew ; afterward, it may- 
 be, books in his library bearing on the general theme. This done, it was 
 his favorite method to walk the floor of his study, fold his hands behind 
 him, and make his plan. Order would break through the chaos. Bone 
 would come to his bone, and ere long sinews, flesh, and breath would 
 appear. How happy was his look, if, when through with his forenoon's 
 work, at the noonday meal he could say, " I can see through it ; it has 
 cracked open in the seam " I Did interruptions seem to forbid complet- 
 ing his sermon according to his ideal, he would sigh, "I fear the poor 
 sheep will have to look up to an empty rack next Sabbath." 
 
 From a letter to a young clergjmian : — 
 
 . . . The fact is, if we want to say any thing, we must 
 have something to say, and we must feel that we have some- 
 thing to say, and something which it is of great importance 
 men should hear. Looking up often for divine light while 
 making sermons, greatly facilitates clearing up and enforcing 
 points. For, as with the lightning-rod, so with a sermon, 
 clear and sharp points bring down the quickening fire. . . . 
 I love to take the Bible and read it in the English, without 
 note or comment, comparing spiritual things with spiritual. 
 It feeds my soul. And when my own soul is fed, then I can 
 feed others. I have always noticed that when I write from 
 a deep, warm experience, then there is silence and solemnity 
 in the audience. 
 
 Perhaps you will find some assistance from the book I 
 send you. Do you want others? Tell me. 
 
 His study was his sanctuary, his very Holy of holies. "When at work 
 there, his books would be found open at the places where he wished to 
 consult them. They might lie upon his desk, or prone upon the floor by 
 his side — all their apparent discord was harmony understood by him- 
 self. During his first years in Palmyra his study was a room enclosed 
 over the front porch of the church. Many a sermon has he wrought 
 out while walking to and fro in "the long-<lrawn aisle" of the eastern 
 gallery. How much of thinking and praying, alone and with others, in 
 that .second study he occupied, which he used to call his '* den " ! 
 
 In unfolding the great string-pieces of the gospel system, his argu- 
 ments were always clear, and the inferences convincing and practical. 
 No matter what his subject, or how remote the preliminary remarks, he 
 never omitted a fervent and impressive application. It was bis aim to 
 
THE PASTOR. 195 
 
 embody somewhere in every service a distinct answer to the question, 
 "What must I do to be saved?" It was to him a ground of strong con- 
 solation that Christ was our suhstitute as well as ovir exami^le, that 
 " He bare our sins in His own body on tlie tree." He loved to preach 
 upon God, "A spirit, infinite, eternal, and unchangeable in His being, 
 wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness, and truth." He said, "It 
 is the mark of a true disciple to esteem God Himself better than all His 
 mercies." He presented the personality, divinity, and offices of the Holy 
 Spirit, — "the love of the Spirit" (Rom. 15:30), "The help of the 
 Spirit " (Rom. 8 : 26), " the laws of the Spirit " (John 3 : 8), " the Holy 
 Spirit the Comforter" (John 10:7-10). He often said, that Avhen this 
 divine agent was his theme, His influences seemed specially manifest 
 upon the congregation. 
 
 In the iron-works at Wyoming, Penn., I saw the ore and coal 
 pitched into the great furnace, a hard and frigid mass. But 
 a current of air was made to go up through it. The fire 
 kindled and extended till all was aglow. The ore melted, 
 the dross ran off. So the Holy Spirit, the breath of the 
 Almighty, drawn up through the soul by prayer, can kindle 
 the truth, melt the dross, soften and subdue the heart. 
 
 The Holy Spirit is a divine person. He knows all things, 
 is everywhere present, creates, enlightens, rules. He deals 
 with the souls of men as free, accountable agents. He does 
 not govern by blind force. He brings forward motives, 
 draws, convinces, allures. He does not override the freedom 
 and accountability of man. He can persuade when a created 
 spirit cannot. He has a key to fit the wards of the human 
 soul, to turn the bolt when all other agencies fail. Do you 
 ask how He influences mind? I cannot tell. Can you tell 
 how the eye of the mother looking into the eye of the child 
 can vibrate thought and affection? . . . 
 
 Illustrations and analogies elucidating and enforcing Bible truth 
 seemed to crystallize around him like polarized atoms. " They cling to 
 me like burrs," said he. Symbols flew to his mind as doves to their win- 
 dows. On returning from a journey to Vermont, he gave the young 
 people, on Sabbath evening, his Musings on the Railroad : — 
 
196 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Ps. 119 : 105. " Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a 
 light unto my path." 
 
 2 Sam. 22 : 29. " For thou art my lamp, O Lord, and the 
 Lord will ligliten my darkness."' 
 
 Railroad traveling is often very stimulating and delightful. 
 As you lly along the meadows, between the mountains, 
 through the deep and ancient woods, you are ever surprised 
 with new aspects of scenery and forms of life. How passen- 
 gers can spend their time in reading yellow-covered novels, 
 while the ever-varying i")age of Nature is so refreshing to 
 the imagination and the heart, is inexplicable. The bird of 
 passage flj'ing over can look down upon lake and landscape. 
 The railroad traveler can continue longer on the wing as 
 he glides through the changing prospect. The diversions 
 attending a ride, now on the bank of the rushing river, then 
 under the projecting crag, or from peak to peak, leaping 
 along the summits of the Green-jNIountain range, is fitted to 
 arouse curiosity, wonder, and fear, and carry the mind up 
 to the highest degree of interest and excitement. What 
 switches, what swoops, what looking up and down ! It is 
 not strange that in these moments the thoughts sliould run 
 out into analogical and moral reflections. I took pains to 
 secure a seat in the rear of the last car. Thus I could review 
 the track I had passed over more easily than I could look 
 ahead. So on the great railroad of life we cannot see an 
 inch before us, but "it is greatly wise to converse with our 
 past hours." 
 
 The railroad-track as thus vicAved suggests the necessity 
 of two rails. The cars cannot run like a velocipede, on one 
 wheel. There must be two wheels based upon tAvo tracks. 
 Now, may not these two parallel rails stand as emblems of 
 the two great principles of the divine law, love to God and 
 love to man? How dangerous to divide these two precepts! 
 That is a one-sided orthodoxy which, in its zeal for the honor 
 of God, forgets the good of men. That is a one-sided philan- 
 thropy which ignores the justice and holiness of God. The 
 Christian who would bring his fellow-men to accejit and 
 serve the God he worships will do best to adorn his religion 
 
THE PASTOR. 197 
 
 with a tender sympathy for humanity; and the phihmthro- 
 pist will do most to relieve human woes, who seeks in all 
 to o-lorify God. These two principles start from the same 
 source, and run parallel to the same termination. "What 
 God hath joined together, let not man put asunder." 
 
 Sitting where I did, my eyes naturally fell upon the gorges 
 blasted through the solid ledge and the deep chasms filled 
 up from beneath. What cost, labor, perseverance, to make 
 a railroad through such mountains of rock! But who shall 
 tell of the obstacles removed in opening a way of mercy 
 through Mount Sinai ! What peaks of arrogance and pride 
 are to be humbled ! what depths of melancholy and despair are 
 to be raised ! what difficulties in justice to be met and satis- 
 fied ! But Jesus "fainted not, neither was weary," till he 
 exclaimed, "It is finished." "I will make a way in the 
 wilderness; I will make all my mountains a way, and my 
 highways shall be exalted." 
 
 I found myself on a new road, passing through sections of 
 the State that never before resounded to the locomotive. 
 But though the road was so built as to carry people quite 
 through from the West to the East, and that was its great 
 end and aim, yet there were rich, incidental blessings scat- 
 tered along the way. Here a little village had sprung up, 
 with its sehoolhouse and church-spire. Farmhouses were 
 improving. Marble, lumber, slating, were piled near the 
 track. Enterprise was stimulated, resources developed, ave- 
 nues opened to pleasure and health. The gospel is indeed 
 a highway of holiness. It takes men from the City of 
 Destruction to the Celestial City, on condition that they will 
 trust the checks given. Heaven is the goal of the gospel 
 railroad. But hoAv great are the wayside blessings, — edu- 
 cation, intellectual cultivation, good order, individual and 
 social purity ! Every-thing green and lovely in our path on 
 earth is promoted by Sabbaths, sanctuaries, the worship and 
 songs of Zion. " Godhness is profitable to all things." 
 
 On one dark night there wiis a scene of some excitement 
 on the cars as the conductor came round with his lantern to 
 inspect the tickets. Some were calm and unmoved; their 
 
198 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 tickets were in sight on their hats. Some were asleep ; all 
 were stirred up, and not a few thrown into trepidation ; their 
 faces were anxious ; there was a fumbling in the pockets. 
 I greatly pitied one poor fellow, who evidently thought to 
 smuggle himself through without a ticket. To the conduc- 
 tor he said, " Let me go, I am no trouble." — " But," he was 
 answered, " did you not know the law of the road ? " — " Let 
 me go, I say, 1 am no trouble." The bell rang, the cars 
 stopped, and the man without a ticket was put out into a 
 swamp in the dark. Another, whose words and conduct 
 seemed to evince his honesty, as he awaked from sleep was 
 confused. He searched in vain for his ticket. The con- 
 ductor could not wait ; said lie would come again. At the 
 second coming, no ticket. When about to put the man off, 
 to the joy of all, the delinquent recovered the missing pass. 
 As these things went on, I was deeply impressed with the 
 thought that all are on board the railway of life. At the 
 right time the heavenly messenger with an unerring light 
 will examine our tickets. Some will have the testimony 
 written on their foreheads, "Known and read of all men." 
 Some will be awaked from sleep in much trepidation of soul. 
 Others will be "found wanting." They presumed on the 
 kindness of the Lord of the way. They saw no reason why 
 they should be at the inconvenience of ajiy preparation. 
 They will be speechless and without excuse, and all the 
 more, because the office of the Celestial Road gave to every 
 applicant a free pass on condition that he should not use it 
 for low or selfish ends, to stop off along the way at Hill 
 Lucre or Vanity Fair, but that he be a through passenger, 
 having his heart set upon the New Jerusalem, because there 
 are his treasures, his home, his best friends. What peace 
 to him who has his ticket, who knows he has it, and who has 
 it in siglit, so that others may see it ! 
 
 With through tickets go checks that take away all anxiety 
 in regard to burdens and baggage. The Master of the road 
 ])rovides for them. His word is, " Casting all your care upon 
 Ilim, for He careth for you." 
 
 It excited surprise and inquiry, when, at a certain place 
 
THE PASTOR. 199 
 
 on the road, the great flaming lamp was lighted in front, 
 sending from its polished mirror the rays far ahead upon the 
 track. At the same time the lamps were lighted within 
 the cars, and all in the clear shining of mid-day. It was a 
 satisfactory answer that a dismal tunnel was to be passed 
 through. Who has not shuddered at the darkness and con- 
 densed thunder as he has rushed through a railroad-tunnel? 
 The railroad of life has its tunnels. It is well to have the 
 lights trimmed and burning before we i^lunge into them. 
 This I say to the dear young people, — prepare for long, 
 dark passages that may meet you in future life. 
 
 There will be severe trials of principle. . . . While absent, 
 I met a recent graduate of an Eastern college. He told me 
 he had been pressed with sceptical difficulties which brought 
 over him "a horror of great darkness," and that, had it not 
 been for the words of Jesus which lie had before proved and 
 settled in his own mind, he had gone a wreck. 
 
 There will be seasons when temptations converge and 
 intensify. So Joseph and Daniel found it. Jesus said, 
 " Now is your hour and the power of darkness." I have 
 heard men say who were struggling with the slavery of 
 tobacco, opium, or alcohol, that there were moments when 
 their old appetites returned upon them like a whirlwind. 
 At such times Satan makes his onsets. 
 
 Could we look beyond the vale of sense into the spirit- 
 world, we might see the great enemy of God and souls cir- 
 cling the path, and watching the habits, of that young man. 
 He is away from home, seeking an education, jirofession, or 
 wealth. "Here is my victim," says the tempter. "The 
 eyes of his parents are not on him. I will allure him to the 
 first glass, to the theatre, to the gambling-saloon ; I will 
 iijsnare and destroy him." As he lights near on his fiendish 
 errand, he hears the young man repeating the sentiments 
 taught him at his pious home or in the Sabbath-school. " If 
 sinners entice thee, consent thou not." "Enter not into the 
 path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. 
 Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it and pass away." These 
 texts are like arrows to the demon. He spreads his sooty 
 
200 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 wings, and is gone. "Kesist the devil, and lie will flee from 
 you." 
 
 But the monster is insatiate. He will yet liave a victim. 
 A young woman meets his basilisk eye. I will poison her 
 imagination with pernicious reading. Step by step I will 
 lead her on to ruin. But as nearer he bends his flight, he 
 hears the maiden singing, — 
 
 " Other refuge have I none, 
 
 Hangs my helpless soul on Thee ; 
 Leave, ah leave me not alone. 
 Still sui)i)ort and comfort me." 
 
 Rebuffed, but not conquered, by the heavenly missile, he 
 gathers resolution from his disappointment, and fixes his gaze 
 upon an afflicted invalid. He says, " I will breathe into his 
 heart the spirit of murmuring and rebellion. I will tempt 
 him, as I tempted Job, to 'curse God and die.'" But from 
 the chamber of agon}*, under the roof of the dreary and 
 dilapidated dwelling, arises the voice of submission and of 
 praise : " Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." 
 "For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh 
 for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." . . . 
 These all had their lamps lighted before they came to the 
 fearful tunnels of temptation. How many have fallen, never 
 to rise, because they neglected so wise a precaution ! 
 
 But the railroad of life terminates with the tunnel of death. 
 How terrible, to enter these gloomy precincts without a 
 lantern, to feel the jar and reverberations of a whole life- 
 time concentrated into one dark hour, " without hope, and 
 without God in the world " ! But we may then have light. 
 A friend of mine was telling me of passing through the nine- 
 mile tunnel of IMount Cenis. He was on his way from the 
 snows and icebergs of the Swiss Alps to the sweet fields and 
 mild skies of Italy. Great was tlie change from one side to 
 the otlier, cheering the first i-ays that beamed in, increasingly 
 glorious as they emerged into the soft atmosphere of that 
 clime of the sun. To those wlio have their lamps trimmed 
 and burning, death is a tunnel lighted up, a passage from 
 
THE PASTOR. 
 
 201 
 
 the cold regions of sorrow and sin, to the banks of the river 
 of life, to the land of perpetual spring. . . . 
 
 Dear friend, is yonr lamp lighted? 
 
 There was a marked fitness and relevancy in the selection of his 
 themes. He was ingenious and happy in the improvement of cm-rent 
 events and providences. Discourses of this kind he oftener delivered on 
 Sabbath evening. He drew lessons from the laying of the Atlantic tele- 
 graph cable, from the exchange of the old pulpit Bible for a new one, 
 from the Chicago fire, from a total eclipse of the sun, from severe drought 
 or the "blessed rain" that succeeded it, from the seasons, "The Teach- 
 ings of the Fifth Month," "The Voices of Autumn," "The Moral Uses 
 of Winter." AVhen one of his parish had been struck by lightning, nar- 
 rowly escaping death, he spoke on " The Teachings of the Storm Cloud." 
 
 There are false protections that endanger rather than 
 secure the building. In our spiritual perils the cross of 
 Jesus Christ is the true lightning-rod. 
 
 As his congregation removed to the hall of the Union School for 
 worship while their edifice was undergoing repairs, he preached a 
 sermon on " '];he Schoolroom of Tyrannus at Ephesus " (Acts 19 : 9, 
 10); after a Sabbath-school festival, on "The Model Picnic" (Matt. 
 14 : l.j-21). At the time of an abundant harvest his text was "Is it not 
 wheat-harvest to-day ? " 
 
 ... In the wheat-harvest we are reminded of the 
 dangers that beset the grain between the sowing and the 
 reaping. Some stalks are choked with weeds, some are 
 black Avith mildew ; but, worst of all, the midge, the fly or 
 weevil, stings the joint, or eats the kernel in the milk. 
 These enemies are invisible. They invade the life of the 
 plant when unripe. We know not when the mischief is 
 done ; but as you walk among the standing crop, and see the 
 light head flaunting in the wind, over the bowed and^ solid 
 ear, you say, " It is proud because it is empty. The insect 
 has eaten out its substance." How many a young man and 
 young woman have been smitten by some poisonous word, 
 jn-incTple, example, or book, by the intoxicating cup, the 
 game at cards, by the visit to the theatre when in the city, 
 by the unseen violation of conscience, of the Sabbath, and of 
 the word of God ! 
 
202 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 When gas was introduced into the village (1858), his subject was 
 " Light." 
 
 Christ crucified was the great factor of creation. The very 
 foundations of the morning were so framed as to subserve 
 the cross. Calvary upholds the universe. It is said of 
 Christ, "All things were by Ilim and for Ilini."' Every 
 metal and every mine, every invention in science, in mechan- 
 ics, every specimen of vegetable and animal life, every event 
 in all the free and accountable agency of men and angels, 
 has a place in the evolutions and involutions of man's 
 redemption. Our common mercies, this cheerful light, savors 
 of Christ's love and of Christ's sufferings. . . . 
 
 In the material changes we have contemplated I see a 
 cheering promise as to our own purification. Once this dark 
 coal was in the form of majestic trees, perhaps adorned with 
 flowers sweet as the far-scented magnolia. Now, after a 
 burial of so many years, this primitive vegetation appears 
 as light, splendid light. Who shall say that these bodies, 
 though sown in dishonor, shall not be raised in' glory? . . . 
 " What changes have been wrought on dead souls taken 
 from the black and buried masses of human depravity ! 
 What lights have a persecuting Saul, an Augustine, a John 
 Bunyan proved!" As the Lord has set the sun to give us 
 light, as lie has embalmed the sunlight of former ages to 
 enlighten our dwellings, as all this natural light is but the 
 shadow and the pledge of the spiritual light shed by the 
 great San of righteousness on darkened souls, how reason- 
 able the command, that we "shine as lights in the world! " 
 . . . Glorious will be those mansions " where they need 
 no candle, or light of the sun, for the Lord God giveth them 
 light." 
 
 After the defalcation of a man in high repute, he endeavored to 
 impress the lessons of the Eighth Commandment, " Thou shalt not 
 steal." 
 
 This one idea of the Eighth Commandment is destined to 
 give a security to trade, which no insurance company can 
 afford, a facility and despatch beyond the telegraph or 
 
THE PASTOR. 203 
 
 express, cheapness outrunning all competition. Honest 
 purpose iu the debtor, truth and compassion in the creditor, 
 will relieve all the apparatus of writs and sheriffs. Difficulty 
 in selling, and danger in buying, much palaver and little 
 honesty, will give way to the short and simple language of 
 sincerity. In every bargain two jjersons will be obliged. 
 Covenants will not be broken unless unlawful or impossible. 
 No monopolist by withholding corn will grind the faces of 
 the poor. None will take wages where they have rendered 
 no equivalent. Men will make fewer debts, and be more 
 earnest to i)ay. The command will be fulfilled, " Owe no 
 man any thing, but to love one another." ^ Conviction of 
 right will collect debts which no legal process can enforce. 
 . . . Piety is not simply for the cloister, tlie church, the 
 Sabbath, for holy days and holy places : it is for all duties, 
 and all seasons. Unlike the use of the surplice or the cowl, 
 it is for every-day wear, not to be put off and on like a 
 Sunday coat. It is the religion of counters and ledgers, 
 of workshops, hotels, sheep-shearings, harvest-fields. It tries 
 men over their bargains, over dollars and cents, weights and 
 measures, as much as over creeds and prayers and sermons. 
 We need a religion that makes men honest in the dark, that 
 will put as good apples in the middle of the barrel as at 
 either end, as good wood in the middle of the pile as on 
 the top ; a religion that will keep sand out of sugar, water 
 out of milk ; a religion that will exclude the translation from 
 the recitation-room, the copied problem as the scholar goes 
 to the blackboard, or the composition stolen from book or 
 magazine. We need a religion that will carry the Eighth 
 Commandment into every day, and the principle, " Whatso- 
 
 1 If there was one thing about which Dr. Eaton was more punctilious than 
 another, it was in regard to the payment of debts. He loved to pay an honest 
 debt. All in his employ will remember with what cheerful promptness he 
 met their claims. And in return they gave most faithful service. For fear 
 lest, in the press of other duties, an obligation might have been forgotten, he 
 would often go, toward the close of the year, and inquire of those with whom 
 he traded, " Do I owe you any thing 1 " His rule was " Pay as you go." He 
 kept a daily and accurate account of all moneys received or expended. 
 
204 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 ever ye would tliat men should do to yon, do ye even so to 
 them," into the whole life. 
 
 TV'lien our beautiful organ was purchased, he delivered a sermon on 
 "Music as connected -with the Worship of God." 
 
 David the minstrel was mightier than David the monarch ; 
 his poesy more brilliant than his crown. His harp has a 
 string for every human joy or woe; it trembles at every 
 sigh; its tones are the echo of every mental emotion. He 
 will ever stand the cloister of the militant and the millenial 
 church. How sweet the hymn in which the Saviour Himself 
 joined, and perhaps led, as "they sang a hymn, and went out" 
 from the Last Supper! The descent of the Spirit imparted 
 increased power to the praises of God. Paul writes to the 
 Ephesians : " And be filled with the S[)irit, speaking to your- 
 selves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and 
 making melody in your heart to the Lord." But to answer 
 their higli intent, the praises of God should engage all hearts, 
 and as many voices as possible. I have already implied that 
 music is not a gift to all. If the voice is liarsh and the ear 
 leaden, better lavish effort on some other faculty more trac- 
 table. If my singing disturbs another's devotion, if I cannot 
 chant like the nightingale, I must be content to chatter alone 
 like the swallow, or croak like the raven in solitude. If I 
 cannot praise God with my voice, I can worsliip Him with 
 the Spirit. He will accept the melody of the heart, the 
 rhythm of the affections. Some of us, it may be, must be 
 content with a broken and cracked voice till we put on the 
 resurrection body. But of those who cannot learn to sing 
 on earth, the exceptions are too few to set aside tlie command 
 of the text : " Let all the people praise thee." When, in the 
 old Hebrew worship, Miriam and Deborah led the praises of 
 Israel, all the women followed their lead. When David was 
 the precentor, the four thousand, yea, "all the people," joined 
 in tlie chorus. The influence of the psalms and hymns of 
 the sanctuary are not best secured by the silent passage of 
 the thought through the mind of the listener. Participation 
 in the music heightens and deepens the impression. The 
 
THE PASTOR. 205 
 
 history of divine worship is this ; — when religion is revived, 
 praise fills the mouths of the people. The gospel made the 
 ancels singf. Faith in a cominof Saviour made the ancient 
 
 (DO O 
 
 Plebrews sing. Faith in a Saviour already come made the 
 apostles and early Christians sing. The gospel in the soul is 
 joy, is rapture, and it must find vent. But, when the churcli 
 fell into the arms of superstition, the priests took this bread 
 from the children, and ate it themselves, or gave it to the 
 dogs. But in the Reformation, brave old Martin Luther 
 brought back the blessing to the people. Luther struck 
 again the same old chords, and when thrust from the cathe- 
 dral, he went on, still rolling volumes of praise from his 
 mighty lungs, and was joined by the hearts and voices of 
 millions. In Luther's soul, music became a trumpet. The 
 Forty-sixth Psalm in his lips was the Marseilles Hymn of 
 the Reformation. Who shall say that Luther and Watts in 
 the upper sanctuary, that your parents and mine, do not 
 breathe in the same numbers in which they used to sing here 
 on earth ? Praise is a part of our worship that will go with 
 us to heaven. 
 
 He endeavored to improve the ti'ansit from the old to the new year. 
 Among sermons of this class we find one on the " Analogies of the 
 Clock," delivered Jan. 3, 1869. 
 
 Ps. 90 : 12. " So teach us to number our days that we 
 may apply our hearts unto wisdom." 
 
 A gentleman in Boston one day sauntered into a court- 
 room to spend a leisure hour. His attention was arrested by 
 a large clock suspended behind the seat of the judge. He 
 was soon entirely absorbed in watching the regular oscilla- 
 tions of the pendulum, one foot in diameter. He saw nothing 
 else. That clock was a preacher. It spoke of time, proba- 
 tion, retribution, eternity. In anguish of mind he rushed 
 out among the crowds on Washington Street, and sought a 
 place where, alone, he lifted up the heart in that prayer 
 which, offered in sincerit}^ and in the name of the Crucified, 
 is never rejected, "God be merciful to me a sinner." 
 
 Some of you remember the old patriarchal clock that has 
 
200 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 counted off the days, months, find years of generation after 
 generation, till it came to be invested with a sacred and 
 mysterious personality. The aged and the yonng looked up 
 to it as a true friend, a safe adviser. Like a thing of life, it 
 has never ceased its teachings, warnings, commands. 
 
 "Through days of sorrow and of mirth, 
 Tlirough days of death and days of birtli. 
 Through every swift vicissitude 
 Of changeful time, unchanged it's stood : 
 As if, like God, it all things saw, 
 It calndy repeats those words of awe. 
 
 Forever, never, 
 
 Never, forever." 
 
 To-day, upon the transition moment between the new and 
 the old year, the household monitor may furnish some profi- 
 table analogies. 
 
 What is apparent, and on the face of the clock, is connected 
 with much more tliat is internal and out of sight. We only 
 see the hands as they slowly traverse the dial-plate : the 
 mainspring, the complicated and harmonious wheel-work, 
 evade tlie eye. To many, the changes of the great dial- 
 plate of Nature seem to come by chance. They contemplate 
 not the unseen instrumentality and agency ever moving be- 
 hind the external index of events. Nature and the affairs of 
 the world seem disjointed and out of gear. And yet, to the 
 Infinite Mind, all this apparent discord is harmony. An un- 
 seen hand moves on His undisturbed affairs, finding a place 
 for every particle of matter and a time for every event of 
 His providence. He declares the end from the beginning, 
 and from ancient times the things that are not yet done. To 
 His eye there is nothing fragmentary ; but all is one complete, 
 harmonious whole. 
 
 But this ancestral clock has culminating moments, when 
 it strikes. Though it ticks on, second by second, and the 
 hands move slowly and unobserved over the disk, yet, when 
 it comes to the sixtieth minute, there is an alarm, a blow. 
 Then a new hour is born. Some clocks are so constructed 
 as to make a noise that ushers in the day. A steeple of 
 
THE PASTOR. 207 
 
 church clock could be so made as to arouse the town at the 
 commencement of the new year. God's great clock of Nature 
 and Providence has sublime moments, when it strikes. Events 
 and changes sound out like a bell hung up in the dome, the 
 belfry of the sky. These mark the times that go over the 
 nations. The world stands still to listen. The almost silent 
 vibrations of Time's pendulum are gathered into a single 
 stroke. Events increase by going. New lines are marked 
 all along the dial-plate of the ages. New hours and advanced 
 progress are ti-aced in human destiny. How unimposing the 
 first announcement of Christianity ! But the clock did not 
 run down during the dark ages. At the Reformation it 
 pealed forth with louder reverberations. Thus different vic- 
 tories of light, freedom, and salvation, have at different times 
 been announced. It will at length strike twelve over a re- 
 deemed and renovated world, when great voices in heaven 
 shall say, " Tlie kingdoms of this world are become the 
 kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ." 
 
 But not only is nature, with its complicated wheel-work 
 and heaven-hung bell, a sublime chronometer, measuring and 
 proclaiming the successive events of human progress, but 
 what is man himself but a time-keeper? It is his mission 
 *' so to number his days that he may apply his heart unto 
 wisdom." 
 
 " Oh ! wondrous is that work of art 
 
 Which knells the passing hour ; 
 But art ne'er formed, nor mind conceived, 
 
 The life-clock's magic power. 
 Nor set in gold, nor decked with gems, 
 
 By wealth and pride possessed, 
 But rich or poor, or high or low, 
 
 Each bears it in his breast." 
 
 As we may know the time of day from the face of the 
 clock, so we can tell the time of life in our frames and 
 spirits. If we count the days of our years threescore and 
 twelve years, then divide them, like the face of a clock, into 
 twelve parts, it will allow six years for each figure. The 
 boy who is six years old has lived to one o'clock in the morn- 
 
208 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 iiig of liis life; at twelve years he has come to two o'clock; 
 at eighteen, it will be three; and at thirty, five o'clock; 
 when sixty, it will be ten o'clock, — within two periods of the 
 close. Few reach the twelfth, the last period. To many of 
 us the hand of our probation Avill stop before it shall come 
 to the last figure. Dear friend, what is the time with thee? 
 As the marks of age advance, as the clock runs down, do 
 wisdom, grace, holiness, run u})? 
 
 But another analogy between tlie clock and the soul. 
 Each is to be corrected by a standard from heaven. The 
 celestial bodies measure time with perfect accuracy. The 
 sun is the authorized criterion of every chronometer upon 
 the sea and the land. To start and keep right, we must 
 come back to the chronology of the skies. There are, in- 
 deed, private clocks, town-clocks, church-clocks, which set 
 themselves uj) to regulate the time of others. But these are 
 liable to vary from the true meridian. Did we all set our 
 watches by the unerring sun-dial, the word of God, should 
 we not keep more accurate time ? should we not keep nearer 
 together? Clocks may vary in their cases, their position, in 
 the frequency of their vibrations. The only thing important 
 is. Do they accord with the sun? Substantial agreement 
 does not necessitate circumstantial uniformity. What if 
 John Calvin, John Bunyan, John Wesley, John Newton, did 
 differ somewhat in their mode of worship, mode of thinking, 
 and method of stating their belief? Who now doubts that 
 they were in real harmony with Christ, Avith the Holy Ghost, 
 and with one another? Tame uniformity is not the law of 
 nature or of grace. We differ in temperament and educa- 
 tion. At the same time we may have "one Lord, one faith, 
 one baptism, one God, and Father of all." Charles the Fifth 
 burnt the reformers, and slied innocent blood, that men might 
 think as the Pope did on the creed. lie afterward retired, 
 in disgust of life, to a Spanish cloister. There, wearied with 
 his dull round of mechanical devotions, he found relief in 
 mechanical arts, and for a long time set himself to make two 
 clocks tick alike. In this he failed, and in review of life 
 uttered the very sensible reflection, " What a fool I was to 
 
THE PASTOR. -^^ 
 
 try to have all men think alike, when I have not been able 
 to make two clocks, which have neither mind nor will, move 
 
 in unison!" 
 
 But if the sun-dial is the divine standard to which a cor- 
 rect time-piece must conform, to every good chronometer 
 there is an internal arrangement by which it is made to 
 accord with the standard. The regulator is the most essen- 
 tial part of a o-ood watch. . . . Conscience is the regulator 
 of the soul. C'^nscience is to receive its law from the higher 
 law as found in the Scriptures. The conscience is not a 
 mere adviser or associate among the faculties. It is the legal 
 commander; it sits upon the king's bench; it beai^ the 
 seal of the realm. The conscience owns no law but Ijod s. 
 It can be corrected only by God's word. We may be con- 
 scientiously wrong. When Paul persecuted the CUiristians, 
 he verily thought he was doing God service ; but, when his 
 conscience was set right by the divine word, he repented. 
 You sometimes compare your watch with the sun, and re- 
 touch the regulator. The great item of inquiry on this first 
 Sabbath evening of the new year should be, - Have my lite 
 and heart obeyed the law of right as represented by a con- 
 science enlightened by the Bible?" ... _ _ 
 
 My clock suggests and impresses another principle in spir- 
 itual chronology, — repairs must begin from within. How 
 stupid to attempt to make a clock go right by standing 
 before the face, and forcing the hands round from hour to 
 hour' . . . Paul at first endeavored to correct his life by 
 outward efforts; but he saw his folly. The commandment 
 came. He felt the inward, awful depravity of his heart. He 
 repented, renounced self, iled to Christ. The love of God 
 was shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost. His life 
 was brought back by changing the inward principle and 
 mainspring. The reformation that begins from withui will 
 work out. The reformation that begins from without is irk- 
 some, unnatural, and will not work in. Pohshing the case, 
 turnino- the hands, will not set and keep your watch right. 
 
 Again : from " the old clock behind the door ''I learn the 
 lessoli of '^patient continuance in well-doing." It never 
 
210 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 complains. It is not jealous of those more adorned and 
 noticed. Its motions do not gi'ow faint because of its hum- 
 ble condition. It is more concerned for its fidelity than its 
 notoriety. Nor does the clock called to stand in a public 
 place become niorose because of unjust censure. Nor is it 
 so offended Avith the delinquency and sluggishness of others, 
 that, in a fit of disgust, it endeavors to throw aside its 
 responsibiHty. Through evil and good report it cheerfully 
 toils on till worn out. A good clock does not depend upon 
 its situation. A bad clock is not improved by its position. 
 You may change it from one steeple to another. Tlie more 
 prominent, the more disgraced. Obadiah the faithful ser- 
 vant is spoken of with honor, while Ahab his master was 
 cast down to infamy. 
 
 The accurate time-piece reads to us lessons of punctuality. 
 Durino- every moment of the past year that faithful clock has 
 done its work in its season : hence, at the end of the year, 
 no arrears are to be settled. It has ticked and struck at just 
 the right time. It has told no lies, it has omitted no duties. 
 How different had it been ten minutes behind! What dis- 
 appointments at the church, at the railroad! Ten minutes 
 too late has lost fortunes, kingdoms, souls. Have any ut 
 you, my hearers, i)ut off repentance the last year? Have 
 any of you failed to fulfil the vows you made to God in 
 danger or on a sick-bed? Shall procrastination be your 
 eternal undoing? Shall '^ too late" be written upon the 
 portals? shall the door be shut? 
 
 But finally, there will be no clock in eternity. The 
 heavens, the great dial of time, Avill be rolled together as a 
 scroll. Days, months, and years will end with time. Then 
 commences unmeasured, immeasurable duration. Then we 
 launch on the sailless, shoreless ocean. '^ Time sliall be no 
 longer." No days, no nights, no old years, no new years, 
 but one ceaseless gliding of the river of life, or one ceaseless 
 wading on through blackness and darkness forever! 
 
 We copy a few pages from one of his printed sermons, rleliverecl at the 
 dedication of the Pi-esbyterian Cimich, East ralmyra, X.Y., 1870. Its 
 title "A Tribute to the Fathers." 
 
THE PASTOR. 211 
 
 " Our fathers had the tabernacle of witness in the wilder- 
 ness, as He had appointed" (Acts 7 : 44). 
 
 " Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be 
 long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee " 
 (Exod. 20 : 12). 
 
 . . . On this auspicious morning, and on this spot so hal- 
 lowed by the providential past, it may stir our thoughts to 
 healthful action, and lift our hearts heavenward, to glance at 
 the stern resolves, cheerful self-denials, and loving piety of 
 the men into whose labors and heritage you have entered. 
 Gratitude should kindle at the cost of mercies. The sacri- 
 fices of the past shoukl stimulate to faithfulness in the 
 future. 
 
 Peering backward, in imagination, seventy-seven years 
 ago the 4th of last April, to a little cove in Southampton, 
 L.L, you will see a band of emigrants launching away 
 from their sea-girt shore, tlieir island home. Ocean waves 
 bear their humble but trusty bark around into New- York 
 harbor. The noble Hudson welcomes them to Albany. 
 Here, like the ships of Cleopatra, lifted over the desert, 
 their boat becomes their burden to Schenectady. There it 
 is launched anew, and pushed up the Mohawk to Rome. 
 From the Mohawk, it goes overland to Wood Creek ; 
 through that, it hoists sails on Oneida Lake, feels its way 
 along Oswego, Seneca and Clyde Rivers, into Mud Creek. 
 After a voyage so peculiar, of five hundred miles in twenty- 
 eight days, this well-freighted argosy comes to anchorage at 
 the mouth of Mill Brook, Monday, 2d of May, 1792. 
 
 Could we return upon that fine spring morning, it would 
 delight us to witness the play of surprise, zest, and curiosity, 
 as it appears in the colony just set down in the wilderness. 
 The practical, strong-minded men walk forth to observe the 
 strength and depth of the soil and to take in the lay of the 
 land. Their inward thought is, here is to be our home, here 
 we are to work out our destiny for time and eternity, here 
 are to be our graves, here the inheritance we leave to our 
 children. They gravely contemplate changes worthy of 
 thoughtful, educated Christian men. 
 
212 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 The romantic spirits among them admire tlie height and 
 hue of the out-budding trees, and catcli the spirit of the deep 
 and glorious woods. Of the girls, one seeks the wild flowers; 
 another watches the birds that sing among the branches. 
 Of the boys, one is preparing to catch the salmon or bass 
 that sport in the untried stream ; another is picking his 
 flint for a shot at a partridge drumming upon a neighboring 
 log. If among them there are any made up of fearful, trem- 
 bling material, they trace with apprehension the remains of 
 an old wigwam, or the trail of the Indian hunter. They are 
 startled at the track of some monster in the soft earth, at the 
 marks of bears' claws upon the trees, or at the snarling of 
 distant wolves. Indeed, they thiidc it a dismal undertaking 
 to make an abiding-place a town in this frowning solitude. 
 
 I see the newl3'-arrived radiating from the landing, climb- 
 ing the summits, marking the locality of their future homes. 
 As they return to the table spread for them in the wilder- 
 ness, what themes of interest, conjecture, and surprise, absorb 
 their conversation ! The whole scene suggests to us the verse 
 in which Virgil sings the arrival of the Trojans upon the 
 banks of the Tiber: — 
 
 " Urhem, et Jines, ct litora gentis 
 Divei'si exphrant." 
 
 " "When next the rosy morn disclosed the day, 
 The scouts to several parts divide their way, 
 To learn the natives' names, their towns explore, 
 The coasts and trendings of the crooked shore." 
 
 To the eye of the pioneers of this community there was 
 indeed a sober side. In the very newness and fatness of the 
 soil they see miasm and death. Friends and physicians are 
 faraway. Who will be the first victims of disease? Then 
 what labors look them in the face! By deed, they have re- 
 ceived five thousand five hundred acres to subdue. But 
 there is not a whisper of return, no putting the hand to the 
 plow and looking back. Resolution rises with obstacles. 
 
 Soon the axe gives its clear, metallic ring through these 
 valleys. The giant Anaks of the forest creak, groan, stagger, 
 and come thunderimr to the "round. Fires roar and rush 
 
THE PASTOR. 213 
 
 througli tlie dry fallow. In the dim night, flames gleam from 
 eithei^side across the creek. Smoke obscures the sun, giving 
 the day the mystic hue of Indian-summer. The sprouting 
 wheat grows rank among the stumps. The reapers sing as they 
 bind the tall and golden sheaves. Rude but pleasant homes 
 rise along these hillsides. The buzz of the wheel, the stroke 
 of the loom, tell of domestic industry, of the discreet and 
 beautiful women once so aptly described by a king's mother. 
 Hearts are knit for life while fingers are busy in knitting 
 the woolen or flaxen fibre. Nuptials are celebrated in home- 
 spun. Little children look out the windows, and run among 
 the trees. The town-meeting is called. The schoolhouse 
 goes up. The master is abroad. Mutual necessities and 
 hardships among neighbors awaken mutual interest and hos-. 
 pitalities. Each has a helping hand to rear up a house for 
 the new-comer, to sow and harvest the fields of a sick brother. 
 The funeral as it files through the woods to the final resting- 
 place calls out a long and sympathetic procession. It does 
 not cost the living the last pittance to bury their dead. 
 Those scant in pocket can afford to die. Poor-laws are 
 superseded by the laws of kindness and reciprocity. . . . 
 
 As the little boat must bring its frame and fastenings with- 
 in itself, so the principles of your fathers were the ribs and 
 bolting of their character. They could not leave them be- 
 hind. These principles were a well-set, a vertebrated column. 
 At the base was individual responsihility directly to Heaven. 
 This doctrine of independent thought and direct account- 
 ability to Heaven met the Puritan's estimate of the Bible, as 
 the tenon the mortise. 
 
 ... As he regarded the conscience unbound by the ap- 
 pointments of men, so was he tenacious of the itistitutions of 
 God. To the Puritan, the family was as ancient as Eden,— 
 the arrangement of the Creator, cherished by nature, pro- 
 tected by direct command. The birds have their own nests. 
 How curiously they weave them ! hoAV lovingly they pillow 
 them with down, and cover them under the sheltering branch ! 
 The family is the downy nest for the first hopes, joys, and 
 sorrows of life. Parents and children nestle together under 
 
214 JiT^V. 11 on ACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 the wing of covenant love. Every man thought his own wife 
 the best. Indiana divorces and Mormon marriages had not 
 then abrogated the denunciations of Heaven against adul- 
 tei'ers and adulteresses. 
 
 The Puritan received the Sabbath on no mere human or 
 church command, as Michaelmas and St. Patrick's are en- 
 forced. It was the divine authority that hooked into his 
 conscience and fastened it, tlie " Sabbath of the Lord his 
 God," framed into the very structure of man's wants, ren- 
 dered perpetual by the Decalogue, and declared by the 
 Saviour, "made for man," — for man in all ages, in all climes, 
 the harbinger and foretaste of heaven. It was twenty-four 
 hours long, like other days; and God "challenged a special 
 .property " in the entire day. The sky was more serene, the 
 birds sang more sweetly, on the Sabbath day. Then the 
 harmonies of creation and redemption blended in the soul. 
 
 The clnircJi was a congregation of Christ's disciples, drawn 
 together b}^ the elective affinity of faith and love, fellow- 
 citizens of the saints and of the household of God, — a body 
 republican in constitution, tolerant in spirit, free in com- 
 munion. 
 
 It is not strange that the Puritan carried his principles of 
 personal responsibility into the State^ which, like the Church, 
 he regarded as the institution of God. He submitted to 
 every ordinance of man for the Lord's sake, provided Cresar 
 did not trench u|)on the prerogative of Jehovah, Tlien, like 
 Mordecai, he sat in the king's gate, neither bowing, nor doing 
 obeisance. The Puritan conscience has ever been a stubborn 
 thing to those who tyrannize by divine right. It has proved 
 the advancing iron prow, breaking its way through ice-bound 
 channels of const)lidated oppression, and often clearing tlie 
 way for those who at first denounced its firmness as ob- 
 stinacy. 
 
 Like the antagonistic cordage that holds the mast of the 
 ship firmly uj)right, or as the flexor and extensor of the 
 human arm, the piinciples of the Puritan went in pairs. 
 Affection for children and strict authority over them ; pri- 
 vate frugality and public generosity ; fervid emotion and 
 
THE PASTOR. 215 
 
 cool reflection ; freedom and responsibility ; faith and works ; 
 a dependence on God, as though the creature could do noth- 
 ing; an activity and adaptation, as though all success came 
 from his own agency, — these sentiments, only apparently 
 contradictory, were the balance and strength of the Puritan 
 life. He was not the man to go over the falls from persist- 
 ency in roAving with one oar. Conservative, yet progressive, 
 without contempt for the past, he looked out with hopeful- 
 ness and expectation upon the future. Said the devoted 
 John Robinson in his farewell to the Pilgrim band, - 1 charge 
 you before God and His blessed angels, that ye follow me no 
 furtlier than ye have seen me follow the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 The Lord has much more truth to break from His holy 
 
 word." 
 
 But it is especially befitting this hour to refer to the 
 fathers' estimate of the sanctuary. By no means forgetthig 
 that God was a spirit, to be enthroned in their loftiest 
 thoughts and holiest affections, they were yet careful to 
 strike a golden mean between a formalism that quenches 
 life and a spirituahsm too sublimed for this terrene state. 
 They saw that the purest oil could not give light in dark- 
 ness" without a wick around which the flame might play. 
 The pioneers felt the need of external worship, of a " taber- 
 nacle in the wilderness," where public instruction, prayer, 
 and song, should address the ear, the eye, and stir and cheer 
 the socfal nature. They also remembered their old sanc- 
 tuary left at their island home. . . . 
 
 The Sabbath drew on, in which they were to do no 
 work. Like the Pilgrims at Plymouth, your fathers conse- 
 crated their first Lord's Day in Palmyra to the worship of 
 God : and to the present moment not a Sabbath has gone by 
 without the solemn assembly. That spot is worthy of a 
 monument, where, young and old, they hallowed the first 
 Sabbath by thanksgiving for past mercies, and by invoking 
 blessings upon their future toil. As the trees waved in the 
 wind, their hearts bowed under the divine Spirit. As their 
 voices rose to heaven, 
 
 " The sounding aisles of the dim woods rang 
 To the anthems of the free." 
 
216 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Here was grove-worship without the taint of idolatry. . . . 
 
 In the summer of 1793 this church was organized, tlie first 
 west of Oneida Lake. Deacon Stephen Reeves and Deacon 
 David H. Foster were the Moses and Aaron of this infant 
 Israel : the former meek, retiring, yet strong in faith, 
 giving glory to God ; the latter gifted in speech, and a 
 leader in the service of song. As the new-born Saviour was 
 cherished in a manger, so this youthful church was sheltered 
 in a barn. At an early day a meeting was called to devise 
 means to secure the preaching of the gospel. Captain Joel 
 Foster was commissioned to hasten to Bloomfield, and engage 
 the services of a young clergyman by the name of Ezekiel 
 Chapman. A large audience gathered in Deacon Foster's 
 barn to listen to the inaugural sermon. The text (Acts 
 10 : 29), " Therefore came I unto you without gainsaying, as 
 soon as I was sent for. I ask, therefore, for what intent ye 
 have sent for me." Sermon the next Sabbath in the same 
 place (Acts 10 : 33), "Now, therefore, are we all here present 
 before God, to hear all things that are commanded thee of 
 God." 
 
 The Lord of angels, born in a stable, graced the assemblies 
 then worshiping in the place where the sheep and horned 
 oxen fed. There the heavens opened over the Sabbath con- 
 gregation. There the faithful celebrated the Holy Supper. 
 There the Hannahs and Elkanahs presented their children in 
 covenant faith. . . . That sainted mother in Israel, Mrs. 
 Ruth Durfee, daughter of Deacon Stephen Reeves, declared 
 that while her venerable father, with locks white as the 
 snows of winter, was offering the concluding prayer in 
 Deacon Mason's barn, on the Sabbath day, she turned her 
 face, not to the wall, but against the hay-mow, and while her 
 father plead with Heaven, she gave her heart to Christ. In 
 the secret cave, on the desolate moor or the solitary shore, 
 where God meets His people, there is the sanctuary of the 
 Most High. These migratory synagogues in the forest, barn, 
 and schodlhouse, continued for fifteen years. 
 
 In 180G the people met to discuss the expediency of 
 erecting a house of worship. The question of locality was 
 
THE PASTOR. 217 
 
 sharply contested. " One hundred dollars," said Oliver 
 Clark, " if on the north side of the creek ; fifty dollars if 
 on the south side." " One hundred dollars," said Humphrey 
 Sherman, "if on the south side; nothing if on the north 
 side." The south side had it. The amount suhscribed 
 was 1960.49. Dimensions of the house, fifty-four by sixty- 
 four. Eagerness to occupy the house outran the ability to 
 finish it. Kather than embarrass the enterprise with debt, 
 the house at its dedication, Jan. 11, 1810, was left somewhat 
 rude, compared with the present temple. In the heat of 
 summer, the sheep of an adjoining pasture used to take 
 shelter under the sleepers, — mark, I mean the timbers 
 under the floor, for there were no sleepers among the wor- 
 shipers above. Of the score of windows, but five were 
 glazed, the rest opaque with rough boards ; no steeple, no 
 plastering, no wainscoting, no furnace save a fire of coals in 
 the midst, like that in the hall of the high priest where Peter 
 warmed himself. And since the fathers could not bear 
 smoke in their eyes, more than Peter sin on his conscience, 
 this fire of coals was put away, and in the clear, cold light of 
 winter, devout men and women sat out long prayers and 
 long sermons, keeping warm by the glow of love to Christ, 
 by the mental effort of wrestling with the doctrines of free- 
 will and destiny, and by climbing amid the sublimities of 
 the divine government and j)erfections. Some of you can 
 remember the furtive eye of childhood as it glanced to the 
 naked rafters, where the swallow had found a nest for her- 
 self, or where some neighboring wheelwright was seasoning 
 his timber, or farmer curing his flax, in the loft above. The 
 pul[)it rested upon one pedestal and was formed in the 
 shape of a goblet or the socket of the golden candlestick, 
 having reference, without doubt, to the light that was to 
 shine there. There were doors to invite worshipers from 
 the east, the north, and tlie west. The gallery extended 
 around three sides, the choir occupying the entire front, — 
 Deacon David H. Foster in the centre with his pipe to give 
 the pitch. To catch the more perpendicular droppings of 
 the word, the other deacons were seated under the pulpit. 
 
218 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Such was the second, if not the first house of worship in 
 Western New York. It was built by sacrifice, and, though 
 " a tabernacle in the rvilder7iess^'' it proved a phice of power, 
 because accepted as a palace of the Lord our God. . . . 
 
 Of the pioneers, — embracing the first and succeeding 
 arrivals from Long Island, and those who joined with them 
 in laying the foundations of this community, — I have spoken 
 with the freedom, perhaps with the partiality, of admiration. 
 That every one bore the character I have drawn is not 
 probable ; that all were sinners, and needed atoning blood, 
 none felt more deeply than themselves: but they were 
 ahead of their age. We are not called to-day to go back- 
 ward with shame-facedness, holding up the mantle of charity 
 to cover their faults, but gratefully to look upward, and 
 receive the mantle of their virtues. Before we blame, let us 
 be sure that we e:^ercise equal fortitude and self-denial ; 
 that in their circumstances we should have done better for 
 God and posterity. Before we talk of rough diamonds, let 
 us see to it that we shine not in false brilliants. I am not 
 in a mood to put out my eyes in searching for spots on 
 the sun, or to use smoked glass in measuring eclipses and 
 obscurations. . . . 
 
 . . . Hold on then, advance in the doctrine of truth 
 and holiness. You have done well in adding beauty to the 
 strength of your sanctuary. You know too much to trust in 
 any thing short of the Spirit of God. When the children of 
 Israel looked to their ark for help, they and their ark were 
 carried away captive. You best honor your ancestors, not by 
 boasting of their piety, but by imitating it, and by going on 
 to higher degrees of faith and [)ower. With these new lines 
 of elegance and grace in architecture, foiget not the beauty 
 of holiness and the grace of God. Let family religion burn 
 clear and bright upon every hearth. Let the Sabbath ever 
 shine in hallowed rays upon your hearts, homes, and land- 
 scape. The Puritan has no preference for rudeness. His 
 worship invites all that is charming in music, attractive in 
 taste, redolent in fiowers, provided they do not divert from 
 the simplicity of his faith, or smother the fires on his altars. 
 
THE PASTOR. 219 
 
 If our love to Jesus be supreme, He accepts the condition of 
 His worshipers. To Moses on the rough mountain-side, He 
 appeared in the bush. While Israel abode in tents, the 
 Shekinah illuminated "the tabernacle in the wilderness." 
 When the people of God came to dwell in sealed houses, no 
 gold or gems were too precious to adorn the temple of His 
 praise. This comely edifice has grown out of the principles 
 of your fathers. Attractive to childhood, to mature mind, 
 and to pious affection, may this new temple long stand a 
 monument of the endurance., principles., and worship., of the 
 patriarchs of this Zion. 
 
 From this spire may tones mellow and inviting fall upon 
 the ear. May this orchestra vibrate the praises of the heart. 
 From this pulpit may 
 
 " The violated law speak out 
 Its thunders ; and, in strains more sweet 
 Than angels use, the Gospel whisper Peace." 
 
 As I behold in this audience ministers and members of 
 other churches, I rejoice that in our free, Puritan system, 
 "life takes the precedence of form," that the heart is left 
 to go out in cordial fellowship to every disciple of our 
 common Redeemer. . . . 
 
 . . . My young brethren, the old trees are falling. Let 
 the young orchard be so rooted and grafted as to bear fairer 
 and still more abundant fruit. As to-day we look into the 
 solemn future, we inquire. Shall these foundations again 
 be relaid? Shall a coming generation ever regard this 
 structure as antiquated, and replace it by a type of still 
 higher order and taste, — a type still further removed from 
 "the tabernacle in the wilderness"? In another century, 
 shall another dedication recall your memory? God grant 
 that you may be so true to the trust committed to you, that 
 it may then appear to your listening spirits, that you have 
 transmitted an unimpaired, yea an improved, inheritance to 
 the ages. . . . 
 
 Something like the following was his manner of jotting down the 
 framework of an extempore discourse : this was preached on a funeral 
 occasiou, and the memoranda taken after its delivery : — 
 
220 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Mark 4:35. "And the same day, when tlie even was 
 come, He saith unto them, Let us pass over to the other 
 side." 
 
 Describe scenery around Lake of Galilee. Jesus in boat. 
 Hill, Avhere people were gathered around Him, rising gradu- 
 ally from the shore. Jesus had ])reached all day : tired. 
 Gave command of text. Beautiful exhibition of human- 
 ity and divinity of our Lord. Jesus, a perfect man., was 
 weary ; laid " His head on a pillow ; " slept. Resting in 
 gunwale of that little boat, a flaw came down from mountain, 
 just as now. Winds roared, waves tossed their heads, tem- 
 pest raged. These noises did not awaken Jesus ; but the 
 single cry., the prayer of His disciples, did awaken Him. 
 Now behold His divinity. He speaks to Avinds, they lulled 
 to rest ; to waves, and not a ripple. " There was a great 
 calm." Christ can do the same now to the tossed and tried 
 sjjirit. 
 
 " And the same day, when the even was come, He saith 
 unto them, Let us pass over to the otlier side." 
 
 (1) There ts "another side." Those about to cross the 
 ocean look up every thing in regard to the other side. 
 Strange that we are so occupied in the present that we for- 
 get " the other side." 
 
 (2) Jesus said, " Let us pass over to the other side." He 
 does not say, " Pass thou over to the other side," but, " Let 
 ws," etc. Death is a night voyage. It may be stormy. But 
 Christ will be loith the believer as he passes "over to the 
 other side." AVhen the right, the best time comes. He will 
 say, " Let us pass," etc. 
 
 (3) Blessedness of " the other side." — An evergreen 
 shore, immortal youth, no weariness, pain, no heartache, no 
 sin. Refer to emigrants who embarked on our ship from 
 northern coast of Ireland. True, they shed some tears at 
 parting, but, on the whole, hopeful, cheerful. Their treas- 
 ures had been transferred ; their friends had gone on before. 
 They were passing "over to the other side," where was a 
 "better country." The Christian is going to "a better 
 country, even a heavenly." 
 
THE PASTOR. 221 
 
 We cannot omit an allusion to the vein of humor that was so truly a 
 part of Dr. Eaton's nature. Curbed and consecrated as it was, it proved 
 a handmaid rather than a hindrance to him as pastor and preacher. 
 What he said at the funeral of Columbus Croul, Esq., of Lyons, was 
 literally true of himself : — 
 
 His religion sanctified and subsidized for good a natural 
 trait which is too often a wayward and dangerous gift. 
 Mirth twinkled in his eye, facetionsness, pleasantry, repartee, 
 dropped naturally and pleasantly from his lips. Tempered 
 by conscience, restrained by kindness, they stopped short of 
 sarcasm and of foolish jesting, which are not convenient. 
 With him, "Wit was the yeast to enliven wisdom." 
 
 He enjoyed fishing. He loved to mingle in the sports of children. 
 He would stand at his window and with delight watch the boys and 
 girls as with shouts of glee they coasted down the sidewalk in front of 
 his house. 
 
 He early commenced work among the young of his congregation. To 
 all who correctly recited the Assembly's Shorter Catechism he presented 
 a gilt-edged reference Bible. In one year forty or fifty obtained this 
 prize. He preached a series of sermons to the children, entitled " Home- 
 ward Steps." They were to furnish his texts. On the first Sabbath 
 they were each to bring on a slip of paper a single word from the Bible. 
 From the many he selected one as the theme for the ensuing Sabbath. 
 Then they brought texts of two words, then of three, and so on. Much 
 interest and searching of the Scriptures were excited among the little 
 people. Late in life, he occasionally made a short sermon to the children 
 a prelude to his regular Sabbath morning's discourse. 
 
 The Fu'st Robin of the Spring. 
 
 Eccl. 10 : 20. " For a bird of the air shall carry the 
 voice, and that which hath wings shall tell the matter." 
 
 The last summer a pair of robins built their nest in the 
 lone apple-tree, not far from my stud3'-window. There they 
 rested, watched, and fed their two broods of young ones ; 
 there they sang through the long, bright, summer days. 
 They were the charm of the garden. After the last rose of 
 summer had faded, and the maple-leaf had grown red as the 
 bird's breast, at the sunset hour, the robin chanted his fare- 
 well song. 
 
222 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 The absence of the robins was mourned by the forsaken 
 nest, tlie trees, and the parsonage. 
 
 On the glad morning of the 12th of IMarcli, the hist year's 
 songster was again in the top of his ohl apple-tree, by his 
 old nest. His voice was clearer, louder, richer, than ever 
 before. To me, it was the first robin of the spring, and 
 started some grateful and profitable reflections. 
 
 As the dove with the olive-branch in her mouth brought 
 hope to Noah, so the first robin brought spring on his wings, 
 and said, "The winter is over and gone." Soon will follow 
 the warm shower, the oriole, the tulip, and the peach-blow. 
 
 The first robin's song carried me back to the springtime 
 of ray life. The robin was the favorite bird of my boyhood. 
 It was ever a bright day when the first robin of spring came 
 to my juountain home and sung his first carol in the oak-tree 
 down before the east door. 
 
 As the same moon and stars that shone upon me in life's 
 young morning shine upon me now, so the same robin red- 
 breast that chanted in " the old roof-tree " seems now singing 
 in my own garden, though so far away. 
 
 Do robins ever die? Ask your father and mother who 
 attend their funeral, where is their burying-place. 
 
 But may I not hold a short dialogue with my pilgrim 
 robin, and ask him something of his journal and his journey? 
 Dues not my text say, " That which hath wings shall tell the 
 matter " ? 
 
 "Well, my merry bird, why did you leave us the last 
 fall?" 
 
 "The skies began to scowl, the nest grew chill. But, 
 most of all, the grubs we ate in the spring, the cherries we 
 shared in summer, the red plums on which we lived in 
 autumn, failed us. Cold and hunger drove us away." 
 
 "And where did you find your winter home?" 
 
 "Amid the palmetto and orange-groves of the sunny 
 South." 
 
 " Did you go by rail, or by sail ? " 
 
 " Not by rail. My wings were my sails. I did not pay 
 my passage : I worked it. My course was the air-line, — 
 
THE PASTOR. 223 
 
 swift, gay, and free. If storms drove from the north, we 
 outstripped the wind, and arrived by a single flight. If 
 the sky\vas fair, at inviting fields we alighted for rest and 
 
 food."^ 
 
 " Where is vour mate this mornnig ? 
 
 "She is on" the way, and will soon join me here. I, who 
 am a bird of stronger wing, have come before to refit our old 
 home, and prepare for housekeeping anew. Our conjugal tie 
 is for life. We are no Mormons." 
 
 "By what almanac did you begin your voyage? By what 
 guide-book, compass, chart, did you direct your way ? " 
 
 "I cany my almanac, compass, and chart in my own red 
 breast. He that made me guides me. ' Doth the hawk fly 
 by thy wisdom, and stretch her wings toward the south? 
 How knoweth the stork her appointed time ? the crane and 
 the swallow, the time of their coming?' Who teaches the 
 blue-fish navigation, as through the ocean-depths he comes 
 back to the day to his native shores ? " 
 " Why did you come north this spring?" 
 " The north is my home, my birthplace. At the south I 
 roam in indolence : here I work, sing, and rear my brood." 
 
 Young friends, " Behold the birds of the air," their coming, 
 goin^, their beautiful dress, their innocent joy. Love the 
 robin. Listen to his morning and evening song, and, when 
 the parent bird sets up the shrill and plaintive cry for help 
 to rescue her young from the prowling enemy, fly to her aid. 
 Dear children, God has given you a life above that of the 
 bird. You are of more value than many robins. If you 
 love the Saviour, you will some day fly beyond the stars, to 
 have your home in the garden, the paradise of God, there 
 to sing the song of redeeming love. 
 
 Sermon to Children. " The Man in the Moon." 
 Gen. 1:16. "And God made two great lights; the 
 greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule 
 
 the night." r j* n • 
 
 Dear children, as Adam was created a man ot tulL size, 
 how do you suppose he felt when he first looked up into 
 
224 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 the sky, and saw the sun in all its glory ? IIoay did he feel 
 as the snn went down for the first time in the west, the first 
 nififht shuttincj in around him? Did he think there would 
 ever he another morning? Was it not a cheering sight when 
 the full moon came up in the east, and led on her train of 
 stars through the sky ? 
 
 Tlie soft and silvery light of the moon is easier for our eyes 
 than the dazzling rays of the sun, and Ave can look at it more 
 steadily. Tiie moon is beautiful in the night. It is the orb 
 nearest the earth. Through the telescope we see its moun- 
 tains. It was not made for other worlds : it is our lantern, 
 hung up in the sky to guide us safely by night. Young eyes 
 love to watch its changes, — the new, the full, "the harvest 
 moon." To the ancient shepherds Avho kept their flocks by 
 night, the dark spots on the moon presented the nose, the 
 eyes, the mouth, of a human face : hence they spoke, as we 
 do, of " the man in the moon." It is an innocent fancy^ 
 which we may for a moment treat as a reality. 
 
 " The man in the moon " is very ayed. He is older than 
 Adam. He looked down on Eden, where the tree of knowl- 
 edge and the tree of life grew. Though wrinkled, he is not 
 yet gray. He will hold on to attend the funeral of the last 
 of the sons of earth. We shall then no longer need his light, 
 and his lamp will go out. 
 
 Dear children, when you look the " man in the moon " full 
 in the face, you see the same old character that Adam, Noah, 
 and Job saw. 
 
 The "■ man in the moon " is ati exact time-keeper. In some 
 cities they have a tower-clock as a regulator, by which they 
 set their watches. " God appointed the moon for times, for 
 seasons." The Jews, the Egyptians, the Druids, looked to 
 the new moon for the beginning of their months. New 
 moons measured off their years. New moons fixed the day 
 of their feasts. The increasing moon they trusted: the 
 waning moon they feared. 
 
 The " man in the moon " is a yreat discoverer. Columbus 
 found America; but the "man in the moon," in his first 
 balloon-voyage, looked down on all continents, islands, rivers, 
 
THE PASTOR. 225 
 
 oceans, and polar seas. This eye-witness in the moon not 
 only sees places, but things that have been done, both good 
 and evil. Could this old observer speak, he miglit tell us of 
 the wild flight of Adam and Eve from the garden, of Noah 
 riding in safety over a drowned world, of the ruin of Babel, 
 the wanderings of Israel in the wilderness, the grave of 
 Moses, the destruction of Sodom, Babylon, Palmyra, and 
 Jerusalem. The moon in full orb shone on Christ in His 
 agony in sad Gethsemane, and on His sepulchre. 
 
 TJie " man in the moon " is kind in his influence. He never 
 sleeps in his watch-tower. He holds out his lamp to the tem- 
 pest-tossed on the sea, to the wrecked on the shore. He 
 throws light on the path of the lost child, and guides the 
 traveler over the desolate moor. To give Joshua the victory 
 in battle, he stood still in the Valley of Aijalon. By his 
 timely ray he saved Constantinople from its besiegers, and 
 ever since, that city has held up the crescent as the emblem 
 of its national safety. 
 
 How much do we all owe to the moon as it shines into our 
 whidows, and lights us on our way! The "man in the 
 moon " never turns his back on our world. He always keeps 
 the same honest face toward old and young, rich and poor. 
 
 Children, when you see the new moon over the right or 
 over the left shoulder (it makes no difterence which), tliink 
 of the goodness of God, that through all the ages has given 
 men so charming a light by night. When you trace the 
 features of the human face in the full moon, resolve to be 
 always at your post, whether it be at work, or at church, or 
 at the Sabbath-school. » Where duty calls, or danger, be 
 never wanting there." The "man in the moon" never leaves 
 his post. 
 
 Be prompt — in your seat at school, everywhere. The 
 " man in the moon " is never tardy a second. 
 
 In itself the moon is dark. It borrows all the light it has 
 from the sun, and sends it down into our gloomy nights. So 
 you, my dear children, have no light in yourselves. But if 
 you look to Jesus, and study the Bible, you may receive light 
 from Christ, the Sun of righteousness, and by word and 
 
22G REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 example you may enlighten those who liave lost their way, 
 and lead them into paths of safety and peace. 
 
 Semion to Cliildi'en. The Xorth Star. 
 
 Job 22:12. ''Behold the height of the stars, Iiow high 
 they are ! " 
 
 Dear children, I knew a very good woman, ^ who lived 
 almost a hundred years. She was born on one of the cold, 
 bleak hills of Massachusetts. She told me that when she 
 was a child she was out one winter's evening, and that her 
 eyes and thoughts were directed above, to the stars. She 
 said she was so impressed with the greatness, goodness, and 
 purity of God, and with her own littleness, dependence, and 
 sinfulness, that there alone, under the stars, she gave up her 
 heart in penitence and prayer to the Saviour. Vrom that 
 time onward to the end of life, she regarded that looking-up 
 to "the height of the stars" as blessed by the Holy Spirit to 
 her conversion. In her long life she was the means of 
 "turning many to righteousness," and no doubt, according 
 to the promise, she herself is to " shiue as a star for ever and 
 ever." 
 
 Young friends, if you should give yourselves to counting 
 the stars this evening as they begin to peep out after sunset, 
 you could with the naked eye number some seven thousand. 
 Should you look through a good telescope, millions of stars 
 would seem to you like golden dust on the floor of heaven. 
 Some stars are larger, brighter, nearer, than others. Some 
 stars arc constantly changing their places. 
 
 But there is one star that docs not move. Job says, " God 
 stretcheth out the north over the empty place." If you look 
 away over Greeidand and the frozen ocean, you will see a 
 star fixed in that " em^ity place," set fast like a diamond in 
 the sky. While northern lights flasli, while meteors blaze 
 and die out, while comets come and go, that star always 
 shines from the same spot with a kind and steady ray. 
 
 This North Star is that faithful old sentinel to which the 
 
 1 Mrs. Dr. Gain llobinson. 
 
THE PASTOR. 227 
 
 sailor-boy looks when he keeps his midnight watch on deck, 
 far, far at sea. He remembers that this star shines down 
 upon the cot where he was born. 
 
 The North Star has lighted many a slave-mother fleeing 
 with her child before bloodhounds and negro-hnnters to the 
 land of the free. To those out on the ocean sailing, to those 
 lost on the prairie or the desert, it has been a safe guide, 
 a true friend. 
 
 Another wonder about the North Star. The magnetic 
 needle of the sailor's compass cares very little for other stars, 
 but always points for its rest and home to the North Star. 
 Guided by the compass and the North Star, the ship makes 
 her way through rough and stormy seas to the distant port. 
 
 Now, dear children, what the North Star is to the tempest- 
 tossed mariner, so is Christ to those out on the perilous 
 voyage of life. He is the sure guide. In the very morning 
 of your days you need a friend to whom it is safe to look, 
 as the sailor looks to the North Star. 
 
 " Behold the height of the stars, how high they are ! " how 
 many, how bright, they are ! See God in the stars. They 
 are His thoughts. His work, and, like the aged saint of whom 
 I have spoken, submit your heart in childhood to Him. 
 Take Christ, the Star of Bethlehem, as your light, your 
 guide. Then, as the North Star attracts the needle of the 
 sailor's compass, so Christ will touch the needle of your 
 heart with His love. He will be your delight. You will 
 sail under a faithful pilot with an unerring compass and 
 chart, and though seas be boisterous and wild, you will come 
 safe to the haven, you Avill anchor in the harbor. 
 
 Will not each one of you take Jesus as the Polar Star of 
 your faith, your hope, your life ? 
 
 Dr. Eaton was ever at the front on the question of temperance. He 
 was a total abstainer at home and abroad. No water in Naples or Rome 
 was so impure tliat bringing it up to 212° Fahrenheit and an effusion 
 of tea or coffee did not render it safe for him. Persistent waiters in 
 hotel or steamer, being before instructed of their employers, and deter- 
 mined to run up a wine-bill, did not intimidate him. In the pleasant 
 company with whom he traveled in Egypt, he had friends who feared 
 
228 liEV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 the results of his abstemiousness upon his health, as did the ancient 
 steward for the four young protcrjh of tlie Babylonian king. But when 
 he, the oldest of the party, reached the ground from the top of the Pyra- 
 mid of Cheops, they gathered around him, and exclaimed with cheers, 
 <' Bravo, Dr. Eaton ! We will urge you no longer to partake of our wine. 
 You have more courage and strength without it tlian we with it." 
 
 At tlie last meeting of General Assembly to which he was a delegate, 
 held at IMadison, Wis., May, 1880, he was appointed one of a com- 
 mittee of nine " to consider the expediency of establishing a permanent 
 committee of the General Assembly on Temperance." This permanent 
 committee made its first report in 1882. When Hon. Williani E. Dodge, 
 its chairman, was removed by death, it was Dr. Eaton's prayer that the 
 mantle of that standard-bearer might fall upon some one equally wise 
 and fearless. 
 
 While he welcomed every remedial agency and organization, he never- 
 theless believed that the Christian Church had a most important work to 
 perform in the cause of temperance, and that influences from the cross of 
 Christ and from the Holy Spirit were to be relied on to give success to 
 efforts for the recovery of the fallen. He was assured the time would ere 
 long come when the disciples of Jesus would utterly and forever free 
 themselves froni all complicity with the rum traffic, at whatever cost of 
 money, position, or political preferment. 
 
 By example and precej^t, Dr. Eaton sought to encourage the keeping 
 of the Sabbath day. In a letter he says : — 
 
 I always loved the Sabbath. It was ever a pleasant day 
 at the old home. I was never wearied in reading the Bible, 
 or listening to my mother's good words. But then perhaps 
 it was a matter of romance, of sympathy with friends. Now 
 I think I have an inward spiritual delight in the Lord's Day. 
 It is to me a foretaste of the rest that remains. 
 
 We copy a few paragraphs from a report presented by him at an 
 Annual Meeting of Geneva Presbytery, held at Palmyra, Feb. 7, 1854. 
 It was upon the question, " Is it right for a member of the church to 
 collect toll at the gate of a plank road upon the Sabbath ? " 
 
 The discoveries, improvements, and changes of every 
 succeeding period, bring the churcli in contact with new 
 duties and temptations, and yet the Holy Scriptures do not 
 pretend to describe the minutlce of every lawful or unlawful 
 act, nor to give specific directions for every position in which 
 tho Christian may be placed. Between the lines of right 
 
THE PASTOR. 
 
 229 
 
 and wrong, so clearly defined as not to admit of donbt, there 
 is often a space ^vhere the honest inqnirer may for a time 
 innocently hesitate. Bnt if tlie Bible does not prescribe the 
 precise steps of duty, in all the varying circumstances of our 
 probationary state, the spirit and great principles of conduct 
 are so clearly revealed and illustrated that the mind candidly 
 asking, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do," will not long 
 remain without clear and definite conviction in regard to the 
 course most consistent with the revealed will of God. 
 
 "But if to collect toll is Sabbath desecration, then the 
 compan?/ break the Sabbath by employing men to do it:' ^ This 
 deduction from our positions we must admit to be legitimate. 
 David committed murder by another. What we do by our 
 agent, we do ourselves. In human law this is a principle of 
 settled authority. The man who only aids and abets stealing, 
 forging, counterfeiting, is held guilty of the crime. 
 
 ff the collector at a toll-gate should overcharge or abuse 
 the public, the company would be accountable for the work 
 of their agent. What, then, shall we say of the moral 
 accountability of the company who invest their money, and 
 employ their agents, in Sabbath-breaking establishments? 
 What though the disciple of Christ may go to the house 
 of God, yea, come into the sacred desk, yet if he employ 
 men in forbidden labor upon the Sabbath, is he not as really 
 implicated in breaking the Sabbath as though he were a 
 conductor of a Sabbath train, or a collector of tolls on the 
 Sabbatli day? If individuals are held to keep the Sabbath 
 day holy, then any associated number are bound to keep the 
 Sabbath day holy. No company or corporation can become 
 so rich or numerous as to defy the command of God with 
 impunity. This should be well considered by every professor 
 of religion who holds stock in the great Sabbath-breaking 
 enterprises of the day. 
 
 But does any one thus implicated inquire. What shall I 
 do? We answer, Before you invested, you should have 
 known that your property would not have been employed in 
 violation of the holy day. It is a poor stewardship to use 
 God's money against His Sabbath. 
 
230 nEV. JionACE nArnx, 7)./). 
 
 But you are already implicated. Then bring all your 
 individual and corporate influence to bring back these other- 
 wise noble agencies from the desecration of the Sabbath. 
 Let the people of God present a bold, united front against 
 this great evil, and they will be rescued from the service of 
 Satan. Give us the key to the treasures belonging to the 
 church in this country, and we can command the observance 
 of the sacred hours by all these great enterprises. We have 
 God with us. We have the consciences, yea, the interests, of 
 worldly men with us. 
 
 We believe it is the cowering, yielding cupidity of the 
 church that is accountable in a great degree for this increas- 
 ing evil. 
 
 But you say you have done all 3'ou can, and have no hope 
 of reformation. Railroads, plank-roads, — they will continue 
 to break the Sabbath. Then the word of God is plain, 
 "Come out of them, my people," be not "a partaker of 
 their sins." Sacrifice, if need be. Be not accessory to the 
 desecration of God's holy day. Hundreds of good men have 
 already done it. J^et all good men do it. Let them stand 
 aloof from Sabbath-breaking railroads, plank-roads, and all 
 Sabbath-breaking enterprises, and what a change would 
 come over our villages, our churches, our land ! The busi- 
 ness, the voluj)tuousness, the intemperance of this age, are 
 pressing upon the sacred enclosure of the Sabbath. ]\Iillions 
 swarm among us from other countries where the true idea 
 of a Christian Sabbath is not known. If God's people do 
 not conscientiously observe the Sabbath, and stand boldly by 
 it, this moral sky-light will be sliut up, Egyptian darkness 
 will close in around us, and the hopes of our country go out 
 in despair. 
 
 The above argument has been strictly confined to the 
 question placed at the head of this discussion. Are not the 
 principles e(|ually fitted to try the right or wrong of other 
 practices in this community? We urge a self-applying con- 
 sitleration of the above positions upon every stockholder and 
 agent of Sabbath-running railroads, upon collectors, for- 
 warders, lock-tenders, and boatmen engaged on our canals. 
 
THE PASTOR. 231 
 
 ]Must not the professed disciple of Christ regard the Sab- 
 bath Labor connected with each of these employments as at 
 least doubtful, and as presenting the appearance of evil; 
 yea, more, as an actual infraction of the letter and spirit of 
 the command, " Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy"? 
 
 Dr. Eaton used to cite the manifest tokens of divine favor on the 
 Chautauqua Association, as connected with their consistent example in 
 literally following the command given by JSTehemiah (13 : 19) : " And 
 it came to pass when the gates of Jerusalem began to be dark before 
 the Sabbath, I commanded that the gates should be shut, and charged 
 that they should not be opened till after the Sabbath ; and some of my 
 servants set I at the gates." 
 
 In his private and public prayers, Dr. Eaton did not so much inform 
 Jehovah at length of creeds or events, as tell Him his needs, his wants. 
 Oblivious to every thing about him, with becoming reverence and loving 
 trust, he poured out his soul before the Lord. All who heard him felt 
 that he was in the presence of some one whom he had met before, and 
 who was then listening to him. None but God, and those most intimate 
 with him, knew how truly prayer was the habit of his life. Ejaculatory 
 prayer, " shooting-up prayers," as he phrased it, sending brief messages 
 to the mercy-seat at all times, unobserved by men, he esteemed a delight- 
 ful privilege. But he never allowed this practice to forestall his regular 
 seasons of prayer, when he entered into his closet and shut the door. 
 Often, when wrestling with God, his eyes were held waking. How was 
 he wont to plead to be delivered from "self-seeking, self-will, and dis- 
 trust of God " ! Thus one spiritual foe after another was vanquished, one 
 victory after another won. With him the trend was ever upward. 
 What were snares before lost all power to annoy. "Out of weakness he 
 was made strong." What he considered his shortcomings and imperfec- 
 tions were transmuted, by prayer and the blessed alchemy of the cross, 
 into "spiritual symmetry and power," until, to those who looked on from 
 the nearest view, it seemed that the apostle's words, " Triumph in Christ," 
 were written on his whole nature. Nothing was further from his thought 
 than that he had "already attained, either were already perfect"; but, 
 like Paul, he did "follow after," he did "reach forth unto those things 
 which were before," he did "press toward the mark for the prize of the 
 high calling of God in Christ Jesus." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 JOURNEY TO ENGLAND AND IRELAND. — "FIRST NIGHT 
 AT SEA." — RESIGNATION. — CLOSING SERMON AS TAS- 
 TOR. — THOUGHTS FOR THE AGED. — CHARGE TO THE 
 PEOPLE AT ORDINATION AND INSTALLATION OF HIS 
 SUCCESSOR. — LAST FOUR YEARS AND A HALF OF LIFE. 
 
 LABORS AT MARION, N.Y. — LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 In October, 1878, Dr. Eaton took a short trip to Great Britain. He 
 had been suffering for a few weeks previous from malaria. Tliis made 
 him more willing to accept the kind invitation of liis friend. He hoped 
 to come home well, and fresh for earnest, spiritual work in his parish at 
 the opening of the winter. The anticipated benefit was not realized. 
 The effects of a violent cold taken just before sailing were severe and 
 protracted. He prefaces a sermon preached on his return by a short 
 account of his journey : — 
 
 William R. Hart, Esq., thirty years ago a resident of Pal- 
 myra and a student in our Union School, now a merchant 
 in Philadelphia, feeling the necessity of a short season of 
 recreation, with a large generosity but a strange preference, 
 sent to me an urgent invitation to accompany him in a trip 
 to England. During the last three months, fearful storms 
 have swept the sea, and strewed many a shore with wrecks. 
 Our voyage out was tempestuous. On the thirteenth day 
 we came in sight of the Irish coast. " Land ahead," " Ban- 
 try Bay," "Cape Clear," "Galley Head," "Old Head of 
 Kinsale," " Fastnet Rock," " Roches' Point," were the suc- 
 cessive cries as we approached the splendid harbor of Queens- 
 town. We saw this city under a bright sun and a brilliant 
 sky. Our eyes were drawn to the fortifications, to Spike 
 Island, and tlie amphitheatre of mansions rising one above 
 another around the shore. Romantic scenery lined the River 
 Lee, as we passed up fourteen miles to Cork. There we 
 
LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. 233 
 
 were specially diverted by the green lawns tinged with yel- 
 low, by the dike shaded by the yew and the laurel, and by 
 Father Mathew's monument in the market-place. Just out 
 of Cork we passed Blarney Castle. For kissing the Blarney- 
 stone the train made no provision. From Cork around 
 through Tipperary, Queen's, and Kildare counties, to Dublin, 
 was one hundred and sixty-four miles. The whole way we 
 watched with interest the rural felicity and infelicity, — 
 stacks of grain and hay, fields where men and women were 
 gathering their harvests of roots, now a lordly dwelling, 
 then a straw-thatched cottage or more comfortable home, 
 churches and graveyards, — all dear to many a heart in 
 America. The attractions of the Irish capital Avere the 
 River Liffe}^ the castle, cathedral, park, university, and a 
 grand temperance convocation, in which Protestants and 
 Romanists were united in fervent zeal. Across the Irish 
 Channel, from Dublin to Hollyhead in Wales, was a de- 
 lightful sail of three hours. Through North Wales to 
 Chester we watched the well-cultivated fields, the black 
 cattle, the mountains, mines, manufactures, and modest 
 churches of these unconquered, original Britons. Chester, 
 that old city, with its Roman wall and battle-ground, where 
 iron Romans first contended with Britons, and where Crora- 
 Avell's "Ironsides" conquered the cavaliers of Charles I., 
 next commanded our time and thought ; then to Liverpool, 
 that centre of the world's commerce, with her eight miles 
 of docks up and down the Mersey ("the quality of which 
 is not strained ") ; then on two hundred miles over the rail- 
 road, where George Stephenson made his first trial of the 
 steam locomotive. — This brought us to Trafalgar Square. 
 Every road leads to London; every thing is marked for 
 London; and so were we. Here antiquities and wonders 
 multiply to any extent. The sun, meanwhile, was in a 
 chronic eclipse. The obelisk once hidden from the eyes 
 of Moses by the three-days' darkness, now transferred to 
 the shore of the Thames, was shrouded from our eyes by 
 the London fog. By the cold, thick, corroding atmosphere 
 of London, we were driven two hundred and fifty miles to 
 
234 REV. HORACE EATON; D.D. 
 
 the south of England, to Devonshire, Plymouth, Torquay, 
 where the soft breath of the continent ijivites the traveler 
 and the invalid. Here we remained till we returned by 
 the way of London to Liverpool. On the 4th of Decem- 
 ber we embarked on the "Ohio" for Philadelphia. The 
 ocean, so furious in our going out, wore a uniform smile on 
 our return. Nine days brought us to our native shore. 
 
 The First Night at Sea (Ps. 107 : 23-32). 
 
 . . . This night compels to a searching revieiv of the heart 
 and life. 
 
 When the sun shines, when the tide of life moves gayly, 
 we too often forget God our Maker; but danger brings us to 
 our senses. " Lord, in trouble have they visited thee. They 
 poured out a prayer when thy chastening was upon them." 
 A night of peril will flash before the soul the follies, impuri- 
 ties, dishonesties of life, which we feel we cannot take with 
 us into the presence of Jehovah. A storm at sea has brought 
 many a careless heart face to face with God, there to relax 
 its hold of idols, and to cast them overboard. Paul Avas a 
 night and a day in the sea ; and is not his word to the Corin- 
 thian Church tinged with this experience ? — " Ye sorrowed 
 after a godly sort. What carefulness it wrought in you, 
 yea, what clearing of yourselves, yea, what indignation, yea, 
 what fear, yea, what vehement desire, yea, what zeal, yea, 
 what revenge." The conviction of God's greatness and our 
 own insignificance brought us next to the supporting assur- 
 ance that the goapcl is the only religion for the tempest^ for 
 a shipwrecked soul, for a shipwrecked world. Our God is 
 available in the storm. " Our God is the God of salvation." 
 John Wesley, when coming to America, was overtaken by 
 a tempest, which aroused his fears. In the cabin he met two 
 Moravian missionaries awaiting in cheerful calmness the 
 result of the storm. He asked the ground of their serenity. 
 "Our Father," they replied, "holds the winds in His fists. 
 Our Saviour is at the helm. We are assured He will do all 
 things well." This testimony was blessed to Mr. Wesley. 
 From this time he entered into more abiding peace. 
 
LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. 235 
 
 In our outward voyage, a poor spent bird from the Irish 
 coast, driven a thousand miles before the wind, took refuge 
 in the rigging of our ship. A kind hand caught the lost one, 
 supplied meat for its hunger, and a cage for its rest. Soon 
 the stranger began to utter sounds of confidence and con- 
 tentment. Although of the raven brood, a carrion bird, a 
 bird of ill-omen, yet such distress, such trust, conciliated all 
 hearts, and secured the pledge that it should be restored to 
 the green isle where it once nestled under the parental wing. 
 Faith saved it from a watery grave. 
 
 By the winds of passion have we been driven on restless, 
 weary wing from the shore of peace ? Where can we fly for 
 refuge from the storm? "Where but to the gospel ark? A 
 divine hand is there, ready to take in every repentant and 
 believing spirit. 
 
 " There safe thou shalt abide, 
 There sweet shall be thy rest, 
 And every longing satisfied 
 With full salvation blest." 
 
 From his diary : — 
 
 Feb. 3, 1879. Good house yesterday. Communion ser- 
 vice. My sermon was on the texts, " When I am weak, then 
 am I strong"; "I can do all things through Christ which 
 strengtheneth me." After the last hymn I asked the audi- 
 ence to be seated, read to them my resignation, and hastened 
 home without a word to anybody. 
 
 The following is a copy of this paper : — 
 
 To the Western Presbyterian Church and Congregation, Palmyra, 
 N. Y. : — 
 
 Dear Brethren and Sisters, — For years I have lived 
 in view of the moment when it would be the will of our 
 common Master that the relation between us, of pastor and 
 people, should be dissolved. The thirtieth anniversary of 
 my coming among you will occur on Wednesday of this 
 week, the 5th inst. I have thought it timely to fix my 
 resignation on this Sabbath. No one has suggested this step 
 to me. But my own acquaintance with the duties of the 
 Sabbath, the calls of the sick and dying, the necessity of 
 
236 EEV. HORACE EATOX, D.D. 
 
 frequent visitation over a large and widely extended congre- 
 gation, has led me to shrink from furtlier assuming these 
 responsibilities. In tendering my resignation, be assured of 
 my confidence in your attachment, and my gratitude for 
 your co-operation, generosity, and forbearance. I love this 
 flock too well to remain its pastor one hour longer than its 
 best interests demand. To give you and myself an opportu- 
 nity of making the changes consequent upon the dissolution 
 of the pastoral relation, I would name the last Sabbath of 
 April as the time of my closing service. 
 
 Your servant for Jesus' sake, 
 
 Horace Eaton. 
 
 He thus briefly ■writes to his sister : — 
 
 Makch 11, 1879. 
 
 I have met m}" thirtieth anniversary with a resignation. 
 
 1. The duties increased. 
 
 2. 'Sly strength did not increase. 
 
 3. ]My beloved wife is breaking down under the care of 
 her mother, — now eighty-six years of age, — and other 
 duties. We both need rest. I think I have done right and 
 that God will go with me. I see great imperfections during 
 these years. My only hope is that I have a great Saviour. . . . 
 
 The action of the church and society toward him at this time was in 
 eveiy respect most gratifying and sustaining, — all that a filial, loving 
 people could do ; aU that the sensitive heart so knit to them could think 
 of asking. 
 
 Two letters — one from a home missionary' in the West, and the other 
 from a foreign missionary in the East — gave expression to the feelings 
 of many at the unexpected tidings. 
 
 Brkxiiam, Tex. 
 
 Editor Journal. — Your issue of last week is now seven 
 days old ; but it was only on Tuesday that I received it. To 
 me as to many others its most interesting matter is Dr. 
 Eaton's letter of resignation. The New York " Evangelist " 
 is not astray when it says, " Thousands will regret to learn 
 that Rev. H. Eaton, D.D., pastor in Palmyra the last thirty 
 years, has tendered his resignation. This has been an excep- 
 tionally pleasant pastorate. By thirty years of patient, able, 
 
LIGHT AT EVEXIXG TIME. 237 
 
 and loving service, Dr. Eaton has become tenderly enshiined 
 in the affections of the old and the young. And in Lyons 
 Presb}i:ery he has long been regarded with love and venera- 
 tion as the patriarch of the body." Such words are only too 
 tame. There are many of us to whom these tidings bring 
 grief. Palmyra without Dr. Eaton would not be Palmyra. 
 We have never known it so bereft. There are indeed 
 tliousands to rise up and call the good — I cannot say old — 
 man blessed. It was a very exceptional privilege which we 
 eujoyed who had him for our only pastor. That is one thing 
 I would not change if I had the opportunity to live my life 
 over again. There never was any nonsense about Horace 
 Eaton. An honest scholar, a sturdy thinker, he gave his 
 people the very marrow of truth. Xo one will question the 
 statement that to him more than to any other single person 
 are due the best elements in the characters of those among: 
 whom he has lived. I say lived, for his life has been as clear 
 and straightforward as his sermons. A minister told me 
 once that there was not one such pastor as Dr. Eaton in ten 
 thousand. Another has said to me that he gained a clearer, 
 better system of theology under Dr. Eaton's p»reaching than 
 in the theological seminary. 
 
 WAE>rEE B. RiGGS. 
 
 S>r5rEXA. Asia ^Mln'oe. Feb. 15, 1S79. 
 My dear Pastor. — I see your resignation in the ■•Evan- 
 gelist,*' It gives me a pang. What next? Heaven? 
 
 Yours in sorrow. 
 
 IMaeia a. "West. 
 
 We copy the following remarks from his last sermon, as pastor : — 
 . . . This morning the voice of years comes over me, now 
 in the cheerful tone from the hTe on the myrtle-branch of 
 hundreds of nuptial scenes, now in the minor key from the 
 harp hung upon the willow and the cypress of as many rites 
 fimereal ; — 
 
 " With their labors, hopes, and fears. 
 With their rapttu-es and their tears. 
 Gone into the silent spheres, — 
 Thirty rears." 
 
238 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Memories and emotions, songs and sadness, gathered into 
 one tlirob, give depth and intensity to uiy own greeting to 
 you as adopted from the text: "But ye, beloved, building 
 up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying in tlie Holy 
 Ghost, keep yourselves in the love of God, h)()king for the 
 merc}'^ of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." 
 
 . . . INIy dear friends, I do not feel that I stand before you 
 to-day greatly condemned in my own conscience for idleness 
 or self-seeking during these thirty years. " I have coveted 
 no man's silver." But alas! had I taken faster hold of these 
 heljis, had I rested more implicitly on the finished work of 
 Christ, "prayed more in the Holy Ghost," breathed out more 
 of the life of Christ as the Spirit was ready to breathe it in, 
 what sins, failures, mistakes, had I escaped ! what power 
 with God and men had I gained! how many more of you 
 had I won as stars in the crown of the Redeemer ! When 
 the sheeted dead shall wake and come to judgment, and I 
 stand with the thousand whom I have committed to the 
 earth, how terrible may then appear the results of my lack 
 of faith and "prayer in the Holy Ghost"! Oh that I had 
 prayed more ! Nothing less than the merits of an infinite 
 Saviour can cover me in that day ; and how should I thank 
 God that I have such an Advocate ! . . . 
 
 Brethren, the moment of so much anxiety, the moment that 
 severs our relatiiMi as pastor and peo})le, has now come, — 
 come as one of the sorest trials of my life, yet a trial invited 
 by myself under the conviction that it was best for the cause 
 of Christ, whose I am, and whom I serve. Amid the con- 
 flicting emotions of this moment I have three sources of 
 comfort : — 
 
 First, we part in peace. Unbroken harmony has marked 
 our protracted intercourse. For your sympathy in my neces- 
 sities, for your forbearance toward my many infirmities, you 
 have my sincerest gratitude. Go on, dear brethren and 
 sisters, cultivating the unity of the Spirit in the bond of 
 peace. In the selection and election of a new pastor, let a 
 prayerful, conciliatory, unselfish temper pervade your hearts. 
 A special anointing of God's grace will rest upon all who 
 
LIGHT AT EVENING TIME, 239 
 
 in simplicity and godly sincerity shall now repel every 
 temptation to division, and shall set themselves in earnest 
 prayer for the peace of Jerusalem. " They shall prosper that 
 love thee;" "'Peace be within thy walls, and prosperity 
 within thy palaces ; " " For my brethren, my companions' 
 sake, I will now say. Peace be within thee." In our plead- 
 ings one for another and for this church we shall never be 
 ^5eparated at the tlirone of grace. 
 
 My second consolatory thought is this, — Jesus is the living 
 head of this church. He planted it in the wilderness. His 
 grace has watered it. He has written her name upon the 
 palms of both His hands. Built on Christ, cemented by His 
 Spirit, comforted by the Father's love, " What shall separate 
 us from the love of Christ ! shall tribulation, or distress, or 
 persecution, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Na}^ in all 
 these things we are more than conquerors through Him that 
 loved us ; for I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor 
 angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present nor 
 things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other creature, 
 shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in 
 Christ Jesus our Lord." 
 
 Finally, I am consoled by the hope I entertain of the 
 young people of this congregation. " The fathers, where are 
 they, and the prophets, do they live forever? " But "instead 
 of the fathers are the children." Dear young friends, those 
 gone before you have prayed, sacrificed, to establish this 
 church. We must deliver it over into your hands : assume 
 the responsibility ; bear forward the ark of God. A career 
 of "glory, honor, and immortality," opens before you. First, 
 give your own selves to the Lord. Consecrate strength, 
 enterprise, life, property, to building up this Zion, and in 
 your turn hand it over, enlarged and beautified, to another 
 generation. " And may the God of peace, which brought 
 again from the dead our Lord Jesus Christ, that great Shep- 
 herd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting 
 covenant, make you perfect in every good work to do His 
 will, working in you that which is well-pleasing in His sight. 
 Through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. 
 Amen." 
 
240 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 On the oOtli of ]March, 1879, he preached a sermon to the aged people 
 of his congregation, from the text, " Abide with us, for it is toward even- 
 ing, and the day is far spent." 
 
 . . . An abiding Christ will make old age leautiful. The 
 gospel imparts a mellowed effulgence to the setting sun. 
 Many of us, my brethren, have passed our threescore mile- 
 stone. " The day goeth away." " The shadows are length- 
 ened out." Our sun hastens to his going-down. It is at 
 least '•''toioard evening." But let us not fear as we enter into 
 the cloud. A transfigured Saviour, who has been walking 
 with us all tlie way, will yield to our cry, " Abide with us ; 
 for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent." 
 
 An abiding, indwelling Christ is a defence against the 
 infirmities that are wont to sear the aged heart, against 
 spleen, gloomy forebodings, morbid irritability, fault-finding 
 with the present, one-sided praise of the past, which some- 
 times comes out in the whine, "The former days were better 
 than these." The soul endued with the spirit of Christ will 
 never grow old. Its wonted fires will flash np out of its 
 ashes. Goodness, like Christ, is ever young. It will make 
 age the complement and culminating glory of life. The 
 keepers of this house of clay may tremble, the strong men 
 bow themselves, and those that look out of the windows be 
 darkened ; but if within there be the Christlike spirit, that 
 soul is clieerful, ho})eful, uj) with the times, never too wise to 
 learn, alert to catch the morning ray of improvement, inven- 
 tion, progress. Such a mind retains a love of Nature. In 
 the very winter of years it finds the rose opening with as 
 sweet a blush, the trees waving as gracefully, and the rainbow 
 si)anning the cloud with the same promise as in the early 
 spring-time of life. It also cherishes a keen sympathy with 
 the young in all tlieir joys, is free from the envious, jaundiced 
 eye. If frost gather upon the brow, there is no chill at the 
 heart. Sanctified age is often the centre of attraction in the 
 home circle. Nature is as beautiful in her October hues as in 
 her May blossoms, and the last lay of the robin is as sweet 
 as lier spring warble. If Christ is constrained to abide with 
 us, the soul will retain the bloom which will emerge into 
 
LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. 241 
 
 immortal youtli. Angels are represented as young. There is 
 no old age in heaven. 
 
 The ahlding ^presence of Christ will make old age not only 
 beautiful but useful. " The trees of the Lord are full of sap." 
 They should be full of fruit. For this purpose they were 
 planted in the vineyard. " They shall still bring forth fruit 
 in old age," fruit all the more mellow for the many suns and 
 the late gathering. The palm lifts its feathery coronal and 
 its hanging clusters in the sandy desert, and this because it 
 sends its roots down to the nether springs. The aged believer 
 can say, "All my springs are in thee." Hence, amid increas- 
 ing infirmities, by prayer, patience, wise, loving words, holy 
 deeds, he brings forth the fruits of the Spirit. The aged 
 believer recommends religion to the j'oung, and transmits it 
 to another generation. If we are to have greenness in any 
 period, when better than in a green old age, evergreen in 
 winter ? 
 
 But if the faculties retain their freshness, they must be 
 kept active, and, if kept active, the aged man must feel the 
 presence of responsibility ujy to his strength. To retire from 
 responsibility is to slip the band of motive, and the wheels of 
 the soul will stand still. How many a merchant has given 
 up business, and retired to some country-seat on the Hudson 
 only to drop out of sight as a dyspeptic, 03 nic, misanthrope ! 
 The burden should indeed be fitted to the back. Some can 
 carry more than others. But to make tlje most of the vigor 
 we have, we must use it. To use it, we must have an object 
 to call it forth. " Otium cum dig^iltate^'"' rest and dignity in 
 old age, is a heathen adage. An abiding Christ will teach 
 the aged man, by cleanliness, temperance, by sufficient sleep, 
 good air, warm clothing, to dispute inch by inch every 
 infirmity of body and mind, and fill up life to the last hour 
 with wholesome precept, good example. An aged disciple 
 should not be an indolent disciple, a garrulous disciple, a 
 croaking disciple, a smoking disciple. The Bible worthies 
 — Abraham, Moses, Paul — brought forth their richest, ripest 
 fruit in old age. Usefulness should be the end of every 
 period of life. 
 
242 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 The abiding presence of Christ will fill up the nights and 
 days of the aged man with comfort., and make liis last days 
 his best. His presence will pour light upon the Bible, upon 
 Providence, upon promises, upon prophecies of the future 
 glory of the church, till, if God so favor, he may go up, like 
 EHjah, in a chariot of light and glory. 
 
 To none of this congregation do I look with more solicitude 
 and trembling interest than to my elderly parishioners, who 
 have come along with me the last thirty years, and have 
 never yet constrained the risen Saviour, saying, ''Abide with 
 us; for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent." 
 
 You feel to-day the force of habit winch years of world- 
 liness have left upon you. Too long have you said to 
 the calls of the Spirit, " Go thy way for this time : when I 
 have a more convenient season, I will call for thee," Too 
 long have you grieved the Saviour, who, although unseen, has 
 attended you all your way. You feel that the world is 
 empty, that its attractions are "paling to an ash-colored 
 spark." Like a bird in a vacuum, you pant for something 
 better to satisfy your soul. 
 
 I pray you, dear friends, despair not. The word comes to 
 you, " To-day, if you will hear His voice, harden not 
 your hearts." " Let the wicked forsake his way, and the 
 unrighteous man his thought, and let him turn unto the Lord, 
 who will have mercy upon him, and to our God, who will 
 abundantly pardon." Let the providences, the preservations, 
 the blessings, of your past life, kindle in you the cheerful flame 
 of gratitude. Consider how short your time is. Now con- 
 strain tlie willing One, who has so long knocked at the door 
 of your heart with the words, " Abide with me ; for it is 
 toward evening, and the day is far spent." 
 
 " Hast thou wasted all the powers 
 God for noble uses gave ? 
 Squandered life's most golden hours? 
 Turn thee, brother ; God can save. 
 
 " Is a mighty famine now 
 
 In thy heart and in thy soul ? 
 Discontent upon thy brow ? 
 
 Turn thee ; God will make thee whole. 
 
LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. 243 
 
 " Fall before Him on the ground, 
 Pour thy sorrow in His ear; 
 Seek Him while He may be found ; 
 Call upon Him while He's near." 
 
 I see before me a large number in the morning of life. 
 There is but one thi7i(/, my dear young friends., that will keep 
 you from the dimmed eye, the trembling hand, the feeble step. 
 Tliat one thing is death. You prefer old age. Virtue, self- 
 control, an abiding Christ, alone will make your old age 
 beautiful, useful, happy. 
 
 From the account, in the Xew York " Evangelist," of the ordination and 
 installation of Dr. Eaton's successor, Rev. Warren H. Landou, Sept. -30, 
 1880, we take the following : — 
 
 ..." The climax of interest was reached when Dr. Eaton entered the 
 pulpit to deliver his cliarge to the people. In the fulness of that unself- 
 ish love of Christ and His cause which has through all this history 
 re-emphasized his ministry of thirty years, and with his own deep and 
 fervent unction, amid impressive and touching silence, he began. Mem- 
 ories, tender emotions, were awakened in all hearts, and tears came to 
 many eyes as he alluded to the past. I cannot forbear to repeat some of 
 his paragraphs : — 
 
 " Sixty-three years have fled since the western Presbyte- 
 rian church was separated from the mother-church of East 
 Palmyra. During this period eight pastors have been in- 
 stalled over this congregation. Seven of these, after having 
 'served their own generation, by the will of God are fallen 
 on sleep.' Saving one here and another there, still lingering 
 like autumnal swallows, the ordaining councils and ministers 
 officiating on those occasions have gone on before. You 
 must go from the walks of the living to yonder cemetery, 
 the ever-increasing congregation of the dead, would you 
 meet those who greeted these successive pastors at their 
 coming. This is essentially true of the audience who wel- 
 comed the retirhig and only surviving pastor thirty-two 
 years ago. Dying ministers among a dying people, and all 
 hastening to their last account ! Jesus elects, endows, 
 anoints, sends, his ambassadors to their appointed fields. He 
 is present at their ordination. The wings of angels rustle 
 
244 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 over this assembly. And have not ' the spirits of just men 
 made perfect,' who one after another fullilled their course 
 in this pulpit, heard beyond the stars the bells that call 
 to-night to the ordination of their successor into a field once 
 dearer to them than life ? Do not the spirits of Townsend, 
 Stockton, Whelpley, Shumway, Fisher, bend in listening and 
 joyful conclave as this beloved people receive from the great 
 Master a servant of God? And where are the elders, 
 deacons, fathers, mothers, members of this Israel, once 
 toilers here, now translated? Are they not among the 
 unseen agents who join us to-night in blessing and sealing 
 this union of pastor and people ? 
 
 " I have recurred to the church of the past, the better to 
 refer to the church of the future. To-day you turn over a 
 new leaf ; you rise to a new elevation. 
 
 " Tu a manner fatherly and affectionate, he then referred to the relation 
 of the pastor to the homes of the people, to the orchestra, the Sabbath- 
 school, the prayer-meeting, and showed how in all these the pastor might 
 receive lielp, as also by the prompt and faithful attendance of the people 
 upon the services of the sanctuary, and their careful hearing and doing 
 of the Word, repreaching it in their lives. He then exhorts them to 
 pray for their pastor. 
 
 " Dear brethren, if your pastor is quickened with pente- 
 costal power in this pulpit, tliere must be pentecostal prayer 
 for him in the church. A sermon prayed over by the church, 
 studied by the pastor, enriched by the Spirit, will come 
 freighted with comfort to the weary, conviction to the 
 thoughtless, pardon to the penitent. Power from the engine 
 in the recess is not more direct upon the trip-hammer in the 
 busy sliop than is spiritual power from the adjacent prayer- 
 rooiu upon this pulpit. What gave point, edge, victory, to 
 the sword of Joshua against Amalek? Was it not the 
 wonder-working rod held high by the three suppliants in the 
 mount of intercession ? Had INIoses, or Aaron, or Ilur been 
 absent from that prayer-meeting, where had been the victory 
 of Joshua over the enemies of God?" 
 
LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. 245 
 
 The history of the remaining four years and a half of Dr. Eaton's 
 life, the relation of his successor to him, '■ as a son with a father," of 
 his old people, as loving " brethren and fathers," his pleasant supplemen- 
 tary ministry at Marion, N.Y., his occasional journeys and closing labors, 
 may be gleaned from the following letters : — 
 
 Palmyra, May 13, 1879. 
 Dear Brother J., — . . . My resignation has brought me 
 no relief as yet. One week more and I give the pulpit up 
 to a young man from Union Theological Seminary, New York. 
 He comes recommended as a gem of a mind and heart. I fray 
 for Mm daily and hourly. If God will put him in my place, 
 and thus the transfer be made without a jar, I shall be 
 devoutly thankful to the Great Shepherd. . . . 
 
 Palmyra, N.Y., July 28, 1879. 
 
 Dear Brother Jacob, — Sixteen days ago I put eight 
 men, good and true, upon my house to make war upon old 
 shingles, old })laster, and the debris of ages. I have raised 
 the roof over the whole. I have smashed, torn up, and 
 rushed away a continent of rubbish. I do not believe you 
 ever worked sixteen days as hard, got as tired every night, 
 slept as well, rose as fresh for the fight the next morning. 
 " Totus in rebus " has been my motto. " Opus fervet." A 
 new story has risen over the wigwam. My study has gone 
 up from the basement to the third story. It is the eyrie 
 of the gray mountain eagle. It will be the finest room in 
 town for my use. The first ray of morning, the last ray of 
 evening, gild it. May it prove the prophet's chamber, 
 where divine light and power come down ! 
 
 Palmyra, Nov. 14, 1879. 
 
 Dear Sister R., — Stern duties seem to folloAv me, and 
 claim my time and strength. I had no sooner gone through 
 with the turmoil of repairing my house than a neighboring 
 pastor left his people, and I was called to supply that vacant 
 pulpit, — a kind of supplementary minister like that of Dr. 
 Bouton of your place. The village is six miles from my 
 home. 
 
246 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 He always went to his flock at INIavion ■\vitli a glad heart, thankful 
 that ho might be permitted still to work for the Master. " The sense of 
 something to be done " was ever to him " the most invigorating of medi- 
 cines." As he drove away from the door, this request was often on his 
 lips, " Pray for me." 
 
 Xov. 12, 1870. 
 
 My dear Brother Botsford, — The tracts you sent 
 me seem very fit and timely. I am trying to " sow the seed 
 by the side of all waters." I am encouraged to know that 
 your heart is drawn out for my people at Marion. Some 
 improvement is seen in the prayer-meeting. I lead in that 
 and in the teachers' meeting. The passages in the Uniform 
 Lessons are very rich and precious. I want you to make 
 your old pastor a special subject of prayer, that his ministry 
 at Marion may be more faithful than that of his more vigo- 
 rous 3'ears ; in short, that the thrums may be of stronger 
 texture than tlie previous web. May God help us io believe 
 His simple word. Faith honors Him, and brings the bless- 
 ing. How a revival of religion in Palm3'ra, and ]\larion, and 
 all through this region, would glorify Christ, and save souls ! 
 Pray for so glorious an end. 
 
 Palmyua, ]\Iarch 8, 1880. 
 
 Dear J., — I have just heard of the death of Rev. Dr. 
 Bush, a dear brother in the ministry. He died instantly after 
 preaching. This vividly brought to my thoughts the moment 
 of my own death. How near it may be ! How suddenly it 
 may come ! I am frightened that I am not more distressed. 
 But the truth is, I have ever liad so much that seemed pres- 
 ent duty, that I have not had time or interest to be ever 
 looking out for the arrows of the relentless archer. Indeed, 
 I do not know but it is as well to commit the whole matter 
 of our departure to Him who knows the end from the begin- 
 ning, and be found working instead of waiting. I have 
 sometimes comforting assurance that Jesus will be with me 
 in the dying-hour. I think I know what took off Brother 
 Bush. He was about my age. Last year he made the tour 
 of the Orient. It excited, exhausted him, and the lamp went 
 out for want of oil. Men at his aire and mine had better 
 
LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. 247 
 
 stay at home. My last voyage to Europe brought me down 
 to the nadir, and when I found I coukl not meet my accus- 
 tomed duties, I resigned, for I woukl not hokl a place I could 
 not fill. But rest and the out-door work of repairing my 
 house have driven the hoojjs anew. Besides doing some 
 work in my old parish, I have kept up the pulpit of a neigh- 
 boring church. But I advise you not to sail for Egypt, Pal- 
 estine, or even England, for this simple reason, you are 
 too old. 
 
 I translate your silence to be that Sister L. is about the 
 same. We pray that God will hold her up in her protracted 
 sufferings. . . . 
 
 Palmyra, N.Y., Oct. 20, 1880. 
 
 Dear Sister R., — "Grandma Webster" went home at 
 half-past six this evening as gently as though rocked to sleep 
 by the angels. She was in her eighty-eighth year. She was 
 in perfect health until within a few hours of her death. She 
 died in her chair. I have no idea she knew any thing about 
 the transition. She fell asleep, and woke up in heaven ; or, 
 as her little hymn has it, which she used to repeat every 
 night after " Our Father," — 
 
 "If I should die before I loake, 
 I pray the Lord my soul to take ; 
 And this I ask for Jesus' sake." 
 
 The night but one before her death, A. thought she heard 
 her speak, and, on going to her bed, asked her if she had 
 been dreaming. "Oh, no!" she replied, "but I was trying 
 to tell them '■Jesus loves you.'' " 
 
 Her mind was bright, and wonderfully interested in the 
 Bible and awake to the work of God in the missionary field. 
 Her faith and love in her last days were aflame. She read 
 every word in regard to the meeting of the American Board 
 at Lowell, Mass. She would call Mrs. Eaton to join with her 
 in admiring some of the promises of Isaiah, and other scrip- 
 tures. . . . 
 
 Palmyra, Jan. 6, 1881. 
 
 My dear H., — ... In the State of New Hampshire, in 
 which I was born, there was genuine heart in the word 
 
248 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 " Happy New Year " as it rang out on tlie chill air before the 
 sun lifted the night-cap off Kearsarge. The school did not 
 suspend; but there was more of sliding down hill, and a 
 brisker game at snow-ball. In the ashes of those years 
 "sleep their wonted fires." Our New- Year's Day was greatly 
 enlivened by hearing from you. Though I can say with 
 Moses, "My eye is not dimmed, or my natural force 
 abated," yet the elegant magnifying glass you sent me is a 
 very timely help. Minutiae, points in Greek and Hebrew, 
 small notes in my Bagster, are made large and plain. The 
 glass helps me to read the Bible. . . . 
 
 Our prayer is, as was the prayer of your devoted grand- 
 mother, that your future may be on the upward grade of a 
 true Christian life, culminating in eternal blessedness. 
 
 Your affectionate father, H. E. 
 
 Feb. 15, 1881. 
 
 My dear Sister R., — How stands the mercury at Con- 
 cord? I have never experienced such a winter in New York, 
 yet I have ministered to my little flock, six miles away, 
 every Sabbath ; I confess not without some exposure in going 
 and coming. . . . But I desire to assure you of the great 
 mercy of God. I know not a jar between my old people and 
 their old or young minister. The Lord's work is prospering. 
 My successor is a refined, educated Christian gentleman, a 
 faithful pastor, and an able preacher. In short, the evening 
 of life is far more serene than I had expected it to be. My 
 chief anxiety is to please the blessed God by growing more 
 and more into the image of Christ, and by improving the 
 opi)ortunities of doing good to others. I trust I have for- 
 giveness for the past, and hope for time to come. Through 
 faith in Jesus the future looms up gloriously. If a little 
 foretaste of Christ's presence here is so blessed, what fruition 
 to be forever with the Lord ! If our steps are less firm, let 
 us take hold of that strong and loving arm extended for our 
 support. . . . 
 
LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. 249 
 
 To a daughter who was teaching : — 
 
 ... I wish I could look in through some loophole upon 
 your school as you teach. A wakeful, self-composed, poised 
 serenity, like that of the eagle, will help you. Classify as 
 closely as possible. Make difficult points clear. All minds 
 are interested in neAV light. Don't be too fast in making 
 laws. ... I have generally found that hard things come 
 easiest in the morning, when I am rested. Don't do your 
 severe studying when the mind is jaded. Get as much sleep 
 as you need. Eat good, wholesome food. Take counsel 
 daily of God's word, and seek direction and strength from 
 the Master you serve, and your task will grow lighter, and 
 you will do good and get good daily. 
 
 YouPv Affectionate Father. 
 
 June 17, 1881. 
 
 Deae Brother L., — ... I am happy in the review of 
 
 the past. My mistakes and sins have been many and great. 
 
 But / have a great Saviour. "If any man sin, we have an 
 
 advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ, the righteous." I 
 
 look forward with joy. I have the promise that Jesus will 
 
 guide me with His eye, that He will defend me with His arm, 
 
 comfort me Avith His presence, and that, when this short 
 
 life is ended, the dear Master stands ready to welcome me 
 
 above. . . . 
 
 Eaton Grange, Warner, N.H., Aug. 20, 1881. 
 
 Dear H., — We started July 18 with Mr. Landon. The 
 next morning we awoke among the eighteen hundred islands 
 of lake and river. Down we shot, two hundred and thirty- 
 four feet, through the Rapids, the old Indian at the helm. We 
 did Montreal, Quebec, then biick to St. Albans,^ Sheldon, and 
 
 ^ In a letter written at another time, he alludes to a visit at St. Albans. 
 ..." I found the old shop where I learned niy trade. I craved the privilege, 
 of an Irishwoman now residing there, to look around the old walls and win- 
 dows. While I was noticing the marks of my hammer and file, the woman 
 came up to me with great earnestness, and said, ' In troth, sir, and what 
 would ye be after finding here ? ' I answered, ' Should you go back to Ire- 
 land, where you were born, would you not be after finding something ? ' The 
 Irish heart began to swell. The tears ran down her cheeks. 'Indade, sir, 
 I would ! Look as much as you plase.' " 
 
260 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 over to Grand Isle. "SVe liad a splendid visit at Mrs. Landon's 
 mother's ; then to Burlington, White Iliver Junction, Clare- 
 mont, here. . . . Your mother is sewing, and I am writing at 
 a window where Kearsarge never appeared in such dignity 
 and repose, so robed in the dark blue, the variegated green. 
 In short, the old mountain has had his face washed, and he 
 has come out in his gala dress. 
 
 A few days ago, Lucien took me around a by-path which 
 I had never threaded. We came at length to an obscure spot 
 about a mile and a quarter from the Grange. What was my 
 surprise when informed that the veritable schoolhouse built 
 by my father and grandfather, and to which I was introduced 
 by my sister, at four years of age, was standing a few rods 
 away ! More than fifty years before it had been taken down, 
 and removed to another neighborhood. As I caught the first 
 view, the image and the reality clasped each other. The 
 humble old house met the bill. The roof, the windows, the 
 siding, were the same. I bade farewell to it fifty-six years 
 ago. The old door retained the heavy iron handle. It 
 refused me admission ; but the window welcomed me to the 
 old floor where my little feet first stood as I recited my 
 A B C. As I "faced the mark" on which the spelling- 
 classes were arranged, I could remember my fellows, and 
 even some of the words by which I was handed up or down. 
 The desk of the teacher was in its place ; but the ferule and 
 the birch were not there. Teachers, comrades, schoolbooks, 
 scenes grave and gay, went by me as in a diorama. Did the 
 Muses favor, I would mount my Pegasus and sing the honors 
 of the old schoolhouse on the ledge. . . . 
 
 A hard worker but no poeta. 
 
 Your affectionate father, 
 
 H. Eaton. 
 
 To General John Eaton. Palmyra, N.Y., Sept. 21, 1881. 
 
 My dear Nephew, — The bottled oxygen is still uncorked. 
 I am surprised at the difference in strength, mind, heart, 
 between the weeks before and after I went to the Grange at 
 New Hampshire. I have found some rest at Saratoga. But 
 
LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. 251 
 
 tlie mountain air of mj own native hills is a more healthful 
 tonic than the mineral waters of Saratoga, and fishing for 
 trout in Stevens Brook, a fitter recreation than watching the 
 fashions and follies of a modern watering-place. A return to 
 the old natal rock is even better than a pilgrimage to Mecca. 
 You thank us for going. What, then, shall be said to the 
 Grangers for their entertainment? Sentiments of poetry and 
 piety went deeper and deeper into my sj^irit every day. As 
 I wandered and mused amid the familiar objects of the old 
 landscape, as I looked to "the mountain " on one side and 
 " The Minks " on the other, the scenes of my youth went 
 vividly by, picturing the family, the school, dear kindred, 
 and associates. Electrifying the nerves with these remote 
 memories imparted animation, circulation, to both body and 
 mind. 
 
 While I thus write, my heart is oppressed. The flag hangs 
 languidly at half-mast. The sun burns on from day to day. 
 The ground is chapped. Then the gloom that comes from 
 death ! Oh, how funereal ! The spirits sink. " But why art 
 thou cast down, oh, my soul? Hope thou in God." God is 
 the Sabbath and rest of the soul. If our dear President 
 Garfield has been called away, God has done it. And, if He 
 has done it, I doubt not, all things considered, it is best. So, 
 if our prayers have not been answered directly, we have the 
 substance sought in our jjrayers, something Infinite Wisdom 
 saw was better. Let us then trust for the better good though 
 we cannot see it as yet. . . . 
 
 The object you would promote, the education of the entire 
 population of our country, is grand in its intellectual and 
 moral aspects. Your arguments can but commend them- 
 selves to the patriot, philanthropist. Christian. 
 
 John, I feel an intense desire that all your dear family, — 
 I mean your brothers and sisters and their families — in all 
 their activity and influence, should be found clear over on 
 the side of evangelical religion ; and this for their own good 
 and the good of the world. I desire that they may come 
 into sympathy with Christ and that cause which is to triumph 
 over all the earth. Every soul united to Christ has victory 
 
252 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 and eternal life for its portion. Every soul arrayed against 
 Christ will meet a terrible overthrow. Let ns pray mightily 
 that none of our dear kindred may be found fighting against 
 God. Your gray uncle, 
 
 Horace. 
 
 Palmyra, X.Y., Xov. 8, 1881. 
 
 My dear Sister Rtjth, — I cannot realize that I am 
 older than King David when he died, and that you and your 
 three old brothers are the last remnants of a numerous 
 family. 
 
 But, dear R., I take no stock in that moping melancholy 
 that bows down the head like a bulrush. By nature I was 
 a stubborn, gnarly piece. My life has been marred by much 
 insensibility and ingratitude. But I regard my sins as no 
 barrier to my hope. I have accepted Christ as my substitute. 
 My sins are imputed to Ilim, and His righteousness is 
 imputed to me. At the sight of the cross the burden rolls 
 off, and is seen no more. "As far as the east is from the 
 west, so far hath He removed our trangressions from us.'' 
 How light the soul when Jesus says, " Thy sins are forgiven 
 thee"! Now as the sear leaf trembles on the stem, about 
 ready to fall, no gloom, no night, shuts in around me, but 
 I see the streaks of the morning, the morning of eternity. 
 Consider, dear sister, the destiny of the redeemed soul. 
 The bliss is unending. Beautiful is one day of this Indian 
 summer; but it will soon be over. But there is no wintry 
 sky, no pain, there are no infirmities of age, in the celestial 
 future. . . . 
 
 To General J. E. Dec. 31, 1881. 
 
 My dear Nephew, — I have a few moments before 1881 
 goes out. It has been, on the whole, a happy and profitable 
 twelve months. Save the Sabbaths I Avas absent in the 
 summer, I have preached constantly to my little church at 
 Marion. I suppose it the weakness of old men to think they 
 are strong ; but the rest and recreation of my sojourn at the 
 Grange in New Hampshire the past summer has seemed to 
 
LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. 253 
 
 turn back the shadow on the sun-dial ten degrees. Both my 
 wife and myself have been more than usually vigorous since 
 our visit there. . . . 
 
 Palmyra, N.Y., April 1, 1882. 
 
 Dear Brother Lucien, — Spring is escaping from the 
 lion-paw of March. ... I have never given much anxiety 
 about my temporal matters, and am surprised at the kind 
 providence of God that provides thus for all ni}^ wants. " I 
 dwell among mine own people." Our fellowship is very 
 cordial. The young minister is all that I could ask, — an 
 able, studious, and godly man. I am rejoiced to have my 
 people fall into so good hands. My health is unbroken. I 
 can do a good amount of study, preaching, and pastoral 
 labor. I don't think I can wrestle with severe problems 
 as I could twenty years ago, but I still love to work. 
 You and I have seen great things accomplished. Humanity 
 is being uplifted. " There's a good time coming." The 
 next battle is to be with the hydra-headed foe, alcohol. 
 I find more difficulty in fetching men up to a bold and 
 decided stand against cider and beer than any other stimu- 
 lating liquors. I know not how to take neutral ground. 
 The church is still militant, and ministers must lead the van. 
 I enjoy great peace in meditating on the wonderful mercy of 
 God in Christ. But I mourn over my insensibility to such 
 tenderness. ... 
 
 To his sick and aged sister : — Palmyra, July 31, 1882. 
 
 Dear Sister L., — I grieve that I hear from you no 
 more. Has that " right hand forgot its cunning " ? Those 
 arms that bore me so lovingly in infancy, do they droop? 
 Are those that look out of the windows darkened? Well, 
 my dear sister, that is fulfilling the description Solomon 
 gives of the winter of life. But beyond the winter there is 
 a perpetual spring. That body which is "to be fashioned 
 after Christ's own glorious body " will never grow old, lose 
 its vigor, or hang heavy upon the aspirations of the soul. 
 No, that glorified body will be like wings to the sanctified 
 
254 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 spirit. The soul, cleansed from all the paralysis of sin, will 
 find perfect fruition when united again with the body with 
 which it sojourned on earth. I think a great deal of the 
 redemption of the body. Your loving brother, 
 
 Horace. 
 
 We find in one of his sermons some thoughts on the theme just 
 referred to. 
 
 . . . This feature of the gospel, the redemption of the body, 
 is full of consolation. How often can we say, " The spirit 
 is willing, but the flesh is weak " ! But, when these bodies 
 '• are fashioned and made like unto His glorious bod}^" 
 these leaden clogs Avill be changed to wings. AVe shall think 
 without exhaustion, and worship without fatigue. 
 
 Our subject teaches the value and dignity of the body. 
 It is more than the house we live in, more than the shell of 
 the flown bird. Christ watches the garnered dust. The 
 chemistry of the grave shall bleach it. The resurrection 
 morn shall ini])ress upon it the dignity and loveliness of 
 Christ's glorified body. 
 
 Between the body and the soul there is an eternal wed- 
 lock. Both bear the impress of Christ ; one of His Spirit, the 
 other of His visible form. Our bodies are a part of us, an 
 immortal part. Our bodies and souls Avill be united after 
 the resurrection at the last day. They had been close friends 
 from birth till death. It was hard parting. The reign of 
 death over, the disembodied spirit will return from heaven 
 to earth with Christ, for it is said, "He shall come Avith all 
 His saints with Him." The body shall be raised, changed, 
 and fitted for the indwelling of the sanctified spirit, and both 
 shall have a meetness to be "forever with the Lord." 
 
 Our subject suggests a recipe for unfadimj beauty. The 
 beautiful and Christ-like spirit will surely be clothed with 
 the beautiful and Christ-lilve exterior. Would you be beau- 
 tiful to all eternity? Accept Christ, breathe the spirit of 
 Christ, and you shall appear in the image of Christ. . . . 
 How terrible that the body which has ministered to sin 
 should minister to eternal deformity and misery ! that the 
 
LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. 255 
 
 haggard features of unholy passion should be dehneated 
 upon the body at the resurrection of the dead ! 
 
 Palmyra, July 31, 1882. 
 
 Dear Brother Jacob, — It is not a little gratifying to 
 me that my old people are agreed in wishing me to preach 
 for them while the young pastor retires for four weeks to 
 the shadow of the Green Mountains. I would that this sup- 
 plementary ministry might be more fruitful than any of the 
 previous thirty years during which I have served them. I 
 have many hundreds of sermons which I wrote with care ; 
 but I am estranged from my older intellectual children and 
 take to the Benjamins of my threescore years and ten. I 
 love to make a new sermon. The young minister and wife 
 left this morning. We are very happy in the new pastor. 
 He has a clear head, is simple and Christ-like in purpose, 
 ingenious in reaching the young. God sets His seal to His 
 labors. I could not see my old people in the hands of a 
 loose and self-seeking pastor. 
 
 In one sense I have " set my house in order." I have lev- 
 eled and swarded my grounds, completed my walks, repaired 
 and enlarged my house, and am satisfied all things are in good 
 shape. Should I be taken from the world, my family would 
 have a home. Now I wish to cultivate that state of mind 
 which will enable me to pass without disquiet to the employ- 
 ments and enjoyments of the better world. ... 
 
 Eaton Grange, N.H., September, 1882. 
 Dear L., — Last Sabbath it was thought too moist for 
 prudent people to venture to the house of God. Your mother 
 thought best to make the attempt. The result was most 
 pleasant and profitable. The rain soon ceased. We returned 
 happy and refreshed both by nature and the word and wor- 
 ship of God. ... A solemn and strange coincidence occurred 
 last Friday. A Miss P. was to be buried at Warner, aged 
 seventy-one. I was called to officiate at the funeral. The 
 house was where mother, brother F., and myself lived when 
 I was seven years old. This woman was a child with me in 
 
256 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 the same house. I h:ul not seen her since we used to play 
 too-ether. How little we know of the future ! How little I 
 thought I should bury her ! We had the most gorgeous sun- 
 set last Sabbath evening I ever beheld. There were banks 
 of clouds of different density reaching around the western 
 horizon. Hence all the lines of the rainbow came out in 
 splendid brilliancy. At the same time Stevens Brook and 
 tributary rills down the mountain made music in the distance. 
 While my eye and ear were thus addressed, my memory was 
 recalling the Sabbath evenings of other years amid these 
 same objects of light and sound. Life is a transient scene. 
 Great-grandparents, grandparents, parents, and nine of my 
 mother's children have passed away to the land of silence. 
 Three only are left. 
 
 Next Sabbath I am to preach a dedication sermon in Mr. 
 Cressey's old church in Bradford. Last summer he was on 
 from Newark, N.Y., to see them. He told them he would 
 give them one dollar for every ten they would raise for church 
 purposes,- — ten dollars for every hundred. This timely help 
 has encouraged and stimulated them. The result is a good 
 young minister, and a church edifice remodeled and beauti- 
 fied. What an example for the wealthy emigrant sons of 
 New Hampshire ! I grieve over the death of D. S. A. Have 
 not decided when to return. Hope you are well, happy, and 
 useful. Your Father. 
 
 Eaton CxRAnge, Warner, N.H., Oct. 10, 1882. 
 Dear Brother L., — My wife and myself are just back 
 from the meeting of the American Board in Portland, Me., 
 — the great convocation of the American Israel. Six thou- 
 sand of God's people came together to consider the last com- 
 mand, " Go ye into all the world," etc. Like those on the 
 mount of transfiguration, we could say, "It is good to be 
 liere." Rays from tlie glory to be revealed slione upon us. 
 I would that the Saviour might attend us doAvn the mount, 
 and grant the power of healing to His servants working at 
 the foot of the mount. ... A true theology, self-denial, and 
 missionary enterprise can be sustained only by the prevalent 
 
LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. 257 
 
 influences of the Holy Spirit. I fear that decay from those 
 vivid impressions of sin, tlie holiness of God, eternity, and 
 the necessity of Christ's death and intercessions, is stealing 
 over the hearts of the ministry and the church. We need 
 the return of such a year of the right hand of the Most High 
 as was enjoyed in 1858. The revival of pure and undefiled 
 religion gives strength and substance to all reforms in the 
 State as well as the Cliurch. Praying men, like Daniel, are 
 the unknown, unseen pillars of the State. Tliey are in alli- 
 ance with God. Our strength for every good work is in 
 keeping near to God. 
 
 I have no time to tell you of Portland, — the birthplace of 
 Longfellow, the scene of the blessed Payson's labors. Not a 
 grog-shop, not a drunken man, marred our sight ! 
 
 You remember our dear old mountain, Kearsarge. The 
 frost-pencil has touched it with colors vivid and varied. A 
 gorgeous robe has been laid on the sides and summit. But 
 the hues are those of death. 
 
 Then the comet ! I have never seen the like. Is it the 
 day of judgment with some burning world, or is it the fusing, 
 nebulous matter out of which another world is to be formed ? 
 It is a bold stranger in our sky, " the work of God's fin- 
 gers." . . . 
 
 New York City, Feb. 16, 18S3. 
 
 Dear Brother J., — . . . A young man, T. G. Strong, 
 Esq., a child in Palmyra, now a prominent lawyer in New 
 York, invited j\Irs. Eaton and myself to visit him, and sent 
 the spelter to defray expenses. We greatly enjoy the stay 
 here. I find my old friends are nearly all gone. I am among 
 a new generation. May we "serve our own generation by 
 the will of God," and so "fall on sleep." 
 
 We shall return by the way of Washington and Frederick, 
 Md. . . . 
 
 One morning during this visit at New York, while conducting family 
 worship, lie gav-^e a niinute account of the conversion of Judge Theron R. 
 Strong, the father of his host. These, in brief, were the facts : Rev. 
 A. M. Stowe, under the auspices of the American Tract Society, had 
 presented to the church in Palmyra a plea for colportage in the destitute 
 
258 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 portions of our own country. Judge Strong, Avith two others, assumed 
 the salary of a colporteur. Several months after, Judge Strong sought 
 an interview with his pastor in the ofRce of the former. He said to 
 him, " I find myself in a singular position. I have been regularly 
 receiving for some time, warm-hearted letters from the colporteur I am 
 assisting to support. He speaks of souls brought to Christ through his 
 labors. He never dreams that I have not a responsive sympathj- in the 
 spiritual part of his work. But I am not a Christian. What must I do 
 to he sarcd?" The two kneeled side by side. The judge followed the 
 pastor in a sincere, tender, and earnest prayer. An extensive revival 
 of religion followed the conversion of Judge Strong. Outsiders said, 
 "If Theron R. Strong thinks he has become a Christian, there's no sham 
 about it. It is real." Many came to the meetings that they might 
 listen to prayer and testimony from his lips. 
 
 June 4, 1883. 
 
 Dear Brother J., — Tlie rain, "tlie great rain of His 
 strength," is over and gone. We rejoice in the clear shining 
 of the sun. IIoav briglit the face of Nature after the ])aptism I 
 A choir of robins, orioles, and bobolinks fill the air Avith their 
 songs. This leafy June is the heyday of the year, . . . 
 
 We have just liad a visit from Mr. and I\Irs. Grifiith, the 
 friends with Avhom I traveled in 1874. Last October they 
 set out again from London, this time for the circuit of the 
 world. At New Zealand they met two sons, one a farmer, 
 the other a Wesleyan minister. The congregation over 
 which their son presided were about to build a house of 
 worship. The architect presented Mrs. Griffith with a silver 
 trowel, and she had the honor of laying the corner-stone of 
 her son's church. The four days they spent Avith us Avere all 
 too short for old memories. My Avife declares she has seldom 
 met such splendid conversationalists, — their persons attrac- 
 tive, their minds like thousand-sided brilliants, their hearts 
 Avarm and pure. Visits of such English friends would bind 
 the tAvo countries in golden chains. . . . 
 
 The first sentence of the next letter refers to the retui-n of his absent 
 children. 
 
LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. 259 
 
 Palmyra, June 15, 1883. 
 
 My deak Br.OTHER Jacob, — Our tabernacle is just full 
 of light. " Our mouth is filled with singing and our tongue 
 with laughter." . . . 
 
 I cannot think of you as old. Some men never grow old. 
 If frost is upon the head, there is no chill at the heart. But 
 I find I am no longer young. ... I was sorry to hear that 
 your pastor was taken from you by death. I was much 
 interested in his sermon and kindly spirit. He was near to 
 your home, near to your heart. These Christian associations 
 will be renewed in heaven. "Blessed are the dead which 
 die in the Lord from henceforth, for they rest from their 
 labors and their works do follow them " ; from " liencefortli^'' 
 — from the time of the soul's departure from the body. 
 There is no intermediate purgatory, no sleeping till the resur- 
 rection. The holy dead go at once to heaven. " Tlih day 
 shalt thou be with me in paradise." In the last chapter of 
 Revelation we learn where this paradise is. It is \yhere 
 "the tree of life" is, and that is in the very "midst of the 
 street of it "; it is where "the throne of God and the Lamb " 
 are. Stephen " saw heaven opened and the Son of man 
 standing at the right hand of God. And he cried. Lord 
 Jesus, receive my spirit." The whole church is represented 
 either in heaven or on earth. " Of whom the whole family 
 in heaven and earth is named." Says Paul, "We know that 
 if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we 
 have a building of God, an house not made with hands, 
 eternal in the heavens." "I am in a strait betwixt two, 
 having a desire to depart and to be with Christ which is far 
 better." The "spirits of just men made perfect" are in the 
 heavenly Jerusalem. When John, the revelator, looked into 
 heaven, he saw multitudes of redeemed spirits standing 
 before God and the Lamb, "singing the new song, which 
 none can sing but those which were redeemed from the 
 earth." 
 
 Please give my regards to the afflicted family of your 
 deceased pastor. Love to the two " Almas." 
 
 Your brother, 
 
 H. Eaton. 
 
260 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Palmyra, N.Y., July 24, 1883. 
 Dear J., — I rise with the hark. I liave just read the 
 Niiiety-first Psahii with Spurgeoii's comments. There is 
 honey in this rock, — " The secret place of the Most High," 
 the " diceUhig under the shadow of the Almighty." I think 
 much of the hynni, "How firm a foundation, ye saints of the 
 Lord." The anchor and the anchorage ! How sweet the 
 promise, " As thy day so shall thy strength be." We can 
 hang a world on each of the promises ! . . . 
 
 Palmyra, Aug. 8, 1883. 
 
 Deae. H., — The summer is gliding away most pleasantly. 
 The girls are ver}- happy in each other's society. Your 
 mother and myself are well. The pastor and session were 
 anxious that I should occuj)y my old pulpit during August. 
 Mr. and jNIrs. Landon are in Alburgh, Vt. I preached last 
 Sabbath morning. In the evening Rev. Warner B. Riggs 
 spoke beautifully on the word " Cornel^' as found in different 
 Scrii)ture passages. We have union meetings in the evening 
 of the Sabbath. ... 
 
 I was much delighted to know you were so well, and 
 profitably employed evenings with those Chinese youth. I 
 think it marvelous that they should show such evidence of 
 improvement in so short a time. There must be native mind 
 in them. ... I think of and pray for you daily. 
 
 Youii Affectionate Father. 
 
 Palmyra, X.Y., Oct. 1, 1883. 
 
 Dear H., — The new postage-stamp is before me. This 
 is the first day of its issue. The new stamp suggests the 
 changes in the postal system of our kind and accommodating 
 Uncle Sam. Bela Morgan told me that in 1818, while 
 struggling with the hardships of a new settlement, he went 
 five miles t(j borrow the twenty-five cents that secured him a 
 letter from kindred he had left behind in old Connecticut. 
 I paid the same price for letters from my mother and sisters 
 while an exile at St. Albans, Vt. If I drop down a few 
 years, I find myself carrying on a brisk correspondence iu 
 
LIGHT AT EVENING TIME. 261 
 
 which it was 110 burden for me to pcay eighteen and three- 
 quarters cents each way. Then the stamp came down to 
 ten cents, then to six, to three ; and now we have but little 
 excuse for repressing the pen. Currente calimo is the voice 
 of the red, two-cent stamp, and so I let mine run. . . . 
 Study, coinnnt the Bible. 
 
 Your Affectionate Father. 
 
 Palmyra, Oct. 1, 1883. 
 
 My dear Brother J., — You have read that the trial of 
 patience was much more precious than that of gold which 
 perisheth. But it was not to try your patience that I have 
 so long delayed answering your last letter. Scarcely do I 
 remember the month that has been so crowded with things 
 temporal and spiritual, things present and to come, as the 
 last. I am ha[)]iy to say that the summer has sped away 
 most delightfully, and more than usually profitably. M. and 
 L. came home worn with long teaching; and they unbent 
 the bow, and the sound of laughter and song went up from 
 the parsonage without restraint. H. came home in time to 
 be with tliem cue week. But you will say such cheerful 
 flow of soul is just fitted to indite letters to kindred. That 
 is true; but while the children were full of glee, I was 
 pressed with S(-ber duties. For my vacation I took back 
 my old parish, doing the preaching, visiting the sick, and 
 burying the dead One week I attended five funerals. At 
 the same time J had on my hands two reports to be pre- 
 sented to Pjesbv'tery, demanding no little investigation. 
 Then as soon as Mr. Landon had returned, and my ecclesi- 
 astical and luissionary efforts had been performed, I went 
 back to the church at ]\Iarion which I serve, some six miles 
 from home. In short, you will perceive that all my time 
 and strength were foreclosed upon. . . . 
 
 Don't forget to pray for me on the 7th of October. Should 
 I live to that day, I shall be seventy-three ! 
 
 From your youngest brother, 
 
 Horace. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 DEATH. — BUMAL. — FUNERAL SERMON. — ADDRESSES. 
 
 From the « Palmyra Courier" of Oct. 2G, 1883 : — 
 
 "Grief and sadness pervade every household in our conn n unity this 
 week. On Sabbath morning last, just as the sun was tinging the Octo- 
 ber foliage on our beautiful hills, tlie tolling of the church bell announced 
 to every person within its sound that a good man had gone to his rest. 
 Rev. Horace Eaton, D.D., for more than thirty years pastor of the Pres- 
 bj'terian Church in this village, and a man beloved in every home 
 throughout this entire community, had in the early niorning hours 
 passed peacefully and quietly from the scenes of his earthly Jabors to the 
 better land beyond. Oh, how sad it is for us to write these lines, and 
 with what deep sorrow will they be read by the many friends of the 
 beloved deceased in distant homes ! For nearly thirty five years this 
 Ivind, affectionate, and lovkig pastor has lived among us, carrying words 
 of cheer into the bereaved household and in every way ministenng to our 
 social and spiritual welfare. Xo man will be moie deeply mourned, 
 none so greatly missed ; and sadness deep and heartfelt rests over us 
 to-day like a pall. 
 
 " In the spring of 1879, Dr. Eaton was induced, by reasoii of impaired 
 health, to tender his resignation as pastor of the church over which he 
 had so long presided. This action was received with deep regret by 
 every member of the congregation, and strong effort! were made to 
 induce him to remain in charge with an assistant. But to this arrange- 
 ment the beloved pastor could not consent, and very reluctantly the 
 resignation was accepted. Ilev. W. II. Landon, the present able pastor, 
 succeeded Dr. Eaton. 
 
 " Another pen than ours will write the history of this noble man. His 
 sickness was of short duration. Less than two weeks ago he complained 
 of severe pains in the head, and later, congestion of the brain set in. He 
 lingered in a semi-unconscious state until four o'clock on Simday morn- 
 ing last, when he passed peacefully away, surrounded by his \\ife, son, 
 two daughters, niece, and a few devoted friends. 
 
 "On "Wednesday afternoon, the time appointed for the funeral, all 
 places of business were closed, and the stillness of a Sabbath day per- 
 vaded the villaire. Persons came from lone: distances. Before noon the 
 
SEEING "HIM AS HE IS." 263 
 
 people from the siirrounding towns began to arrive, and by one o'clock, 
 one hour before the service, every seat in the large church edifice, not 
 reserved, was closely filled. After a prayer at the house by Rev. W. L. 
 Page, the remains were conveyed to the church, the deacons and elders 
 acting as bearers, with the members of the Presbytery as pall-bearers. 
 The church was heavily draped, and decorated profusely with choice 
 flowers sent by loving friends. A favorite text of the deceased pastor 
 was set forth by a shock of corn fully ripe. The choir rendered 'Cast 
 thy burden on the Lord.' A large number of clergymen participated in 
 the exercises, among them the pastors of the village. Rev. Dr. A. A. 
 Wood led the audience in a solemn and affecting prayer. 
 
 " The eloquent remarks of the pastor. Rev. W. H. Landon, were 
 listened to with close attention, and the sad words of tribute to the mem- 
 ory of the deceased brought tears to many eyes. Rev. A. M. Stowe 
 briefly and tenderly spoke of the departed. Rev. A. P. Burgess alluded 
 very appropriately and earnestly to the great loss which the Presbytery 
 had sustained. Rev. L. A. Ostrander read a letter and poem from Rev. 
 G. II. Grifiin of Milford, Conn., a member of Dr. Eaton's Sabbath-school 
 while he was a pastor in Xew York City. The closing prayer was offered 
 by Rev. W. A. Rice. 
 
 " Just as the beautiful October day was closing, the solemn procession 
 began its march to the grave, — Sunday-school teachers, officers, deacons, 
 and elders walking in front of the hearse, the clergymen by tlie side, with 
 the family and a large concourse of friends following in carriages. The 
 sun was fast fading over the hilly slopes as all that was mortal of Rev. 
 Horace Eaton was consigned to its last resting-place." 
 
 The following is the sermon preached by Rev. "W. H. Landon at the 
 funeral of Rev. Dr. Eaton, abating those portions in regard to his life 
 and labors that have been embodied in the previous history. 
 
 2 Kings 2 : 14. " My father, my father, the chariot of 
 Israel and the horsemen thereof ! " 
 
 Elijah was being borne from earth to heaven in a chariot 
 of fire. He had come down from Jericho across the Jordan, 
 for even Elijah had to cross the Jordan before he took the 
 chariot that conveyed him to heaven. Elisha was looking 
 on. As he saw that man of God who had been so much to 
 him, and so much to all Israel, ascending, he cried, " My 
 father, my father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen 
 thereof!" By "the chariot of Israel and the horsemen 
 thereof," he referred to the strength of Israel. It seemed 
 
264 REV. HORACE EATON, D D. 
 
 as if the strength of Israel were being withdrawn. True, 
 Elisha was left, and at Jericho there was a good school of 
 the prophets. God's work would still go on. But yet there 
 was so much strength departing ! To-day we feel like say- 
 ing, "My father, my father, the chariot of Israel and the 
 horsemen thereof ! " There are Elishas left. There are 
 schools of the prophets. God's work will not stop ; and 
 yet a pillar of strength has departed from this community 
 with the death of our father. Dr. Eaton. 
 
 Friends, I do not stand here to preach to you to day. "We 
 are met together as a family. There are no denominational 
 lines here now. We all feel that Dr. Eaton belonged to us. 
 It is always comforting for a family, after the departure of a 
 loved one, to sit together and talk of the beautiful in his 
 life, and of the good he has done. We are here for this pur- 
 pose. ... 
 
 In the spring of 1879, the burden of this large charge 
 beginning to seem too heavy. Dr. Eaton resigned his position 
 as pastor. But such a man could not be idle. Soon after, 
 he began to minister to the church of Marion, still retain- 
 ing, however, his home among his old people. There he 
 labored for four years, till the time of his death, completing 
 a ministry of more than forty-two years. 
 
 Able as Dr. Eaton was to teach others, he boasted of no 
 great knowledge, but was willing to sit at the feet of the 
 humblest, and learn. To us lie seemed a fully-ripened Chris- 
 tian character, — to himself, only a poor sinner, saved by 
 grace. He gave self but little thought. He was nothing; 
 God and His cause were all. In preaching, he hid himself 
 behind the great truths he proclaimed. He was thoroughly 
 unselfish. Living with him in his own home for four years, 
 succeeding him in the pastoral charge of this church, I have 
 occupied a position in which, if there had been a selfish trait 
 in him, I should surely have discovered it. And now I wish 
 to testify that I have never heard him give utterance to the 
 first selfish thought. I have never seen him do the first 
 selfish act. It gave him pain to hear of the failings of others. 
 He had two responses : one, " I can't believe it, there must 
 
SEEING ''HIM AS HE IS." 265 
 
 be some mistake"; the other, a grave, sad, significant, '■'■ I am 
 sorry.'''' He took the blame of every one's faults in the 
 parish upon himself, — "Had I been what I ought, these 
 things would not have taken place." 
 
 His conversation was never trivial. He had a fund of 
 good stories, and he knew how to tell them. But they ever 
 "pointed a moral," or impressed a truth. He had a mind 
 richly stored with material for interesting and profitable con- 
 versation. It can be said of him as truthfully as of almost 
 any man, that tvhatsoever he did, he did to the glory of God. 
 He had a marvelous faculty of weaving the Scriptures into 
 common conversation, but he never did it irreverently. His 
 genial face, his pleasant discourse, his genuine Christian 
 spirit, were magnets of attraction. To see him and visit 
 with him but once, was to learn to know and love him. So 
 tenderly have we loved him here in Palmyra and in Wayne 
 Count}^ that we may have thought we Avere the only losers 
 by this death. But there are many elsewhere who are deeply 
 afflicted by this event. There is a large circle of kindred, 
 widely scattered, who have regarded this man with great 
 affection and reverence. The summer gathering at Eaton 
 Grange, in old New Hampshire, was never quite complete 
 without the presence of " Uncle Horace." In many States 
 and Territories are members of his old congregation, who 
 have loved to listen to the gospel from his lips in years gone 
 by. Their tears will fall with ours. He endeavored to com- 
 mend himself to every man's conscience. " Commending 
 ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God," 
 was a favorite text with him. 
 
 He was very generous, — generous to a fault, some thought. 
 To such fears he used to reply, " I have a good bank-note, — 
 it is this : ' Trust in the Lord, and do good. So shalt thou 
 dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed.' " He often 
 said, no one should deprive him of the joy of giving. I pre- 
 sume he rarely, if ever, turned a poor man away who asked 
 him for alms. He gave largely to the cause of missions. . . . 
 At the meeting of the American Board at Portland, Me., a 
 little more than a year ago, he rose with others, and signi- 
 
266 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 fied his willingness to double his contribution that year. He 
 said he was not sure he ought to have done it, but he could 
 not help it. He is not sorry now. It was his last offering 
 to that glorious charity. The incident was characteristic of 
 the man. 
 
 Dr. Eaton was a student, — a learned man. His large 
 library is filled with books that are well thumbed. He was 
 a profound scholar in the Scriptures. He knew more of 
 Greek and Hebrew than the large majority of ministers out- 
 side of theological seminaries. He always read from the 
 Greek Testament every morning in his private devotions. 
 He called that book his "pocket-pistol." 
 
 He was a great lover of nature. He saw more than most 
 men do. This made his letters which he wrote for the press 
 so rich and interesting. . . . He loved the fine elms in front 
 of his home. He had watched their growth from the time 
 they were small trees. Many a morning, after family prayers, 
 he would take friends out upon the front steps to admire 
 them. 
 
 In his private and family devotions as well as in public 
 prayer, Dr. Eaton seemed to get very near to God. . . . 
 None of us who were present at the ^Missionary Convention 
 in this church three weeks ago this forenoon will soon forget 
 the prayer he offered after our brother Riggs from Texas 
 had made his stirring address. It was his last prayer in 
 public. And dear friends of the Marion Church, if you 
 knew how he had prayed for you, you would all be encour- 
 aged to labor as you never have before. Every morning 
 during the last week in which he was able to lead the family 
 in worship, lie prayed earnestly for your church. " God 
 bless Marion," "God bless the dear little church," were 
 frequent expressions in his prayers. 
 
 In the pulpit it was his endeavor not to display his learning 
 or his wit, but to feed his people. He sought to obey the 
 injunction, " Take heed therefore unto yourselves, and to all 
 the flock over the which the Holy Ghost hath made you over- 
 seers to feed the church of God which He hath purchased 
 with His own blood." And many are the people who can 
 
SEEING ^'IIIM AS HE IS." 267 
 
 testify that he fed them "witli the sincere milk of the Word, 
 and that the}' liave grown thereby." The trutli that lie 
 preached he presented in an interesting, vivid manner. 
 Many of his sentences were short and crisp. He could pack 
 an immense amount of meaning into a single word. Under 
 his preaching here for thirty years, the people of this congre- 
 gation formed a habit of always looking toward the pulpit. 
 They knew that a sermon would come from that place which 
 they could not afford to lose. 
 
 Dr. Eaton was a broad man. He was interested in all 
 great moral and social questions, interested in all that per- 
 tained to the good of this entire community. He belonged 
 to the town as well as the church. He took a deep interest 
 in its history and growth. Beside a document printed in 
 1876, entitled "The Early History of Palmyra," he has left 
 many manuscripts full of statistics in regard to the families 
 of this town. One remarked to him, " You know, Dr. Eaton, 
 more about our ancestors than we, their descendants, know 
 about them." He often conversed with aged people with 
 his pencil in his hand and a note-book on his knee. He 
 would have enjoyed preparing an extended history of the 
 town ; but he had not time and strength for this and for his 
 other duties. He said, " Preaching Christ is the best and 
 the biggest business." . . . 
 
 It is impossible to measure the influence of his life or the 
 work that he has done in this community. He has been the 
 pastor of all who were not actually members of other congre- 
 gations. He has buried their dead. He has married their 
 children. He has attended over eleven hundred funerals 
 here, probably nearer twelve liundred. He has united as 
 many couples in marriage. It is not known how many he 
 received into the communion of this church, but the number 
 must be very large. It is doubtfid whether he ever counted 
 them. He did not spend as much time as most of us in 
 counting results. He worked with all his strength, and left 
 results with God. 
 
 He was certainly very remarkable as a pastor. Ministers 
 are rare who can do as much pastoral visiting as he did. 
 
268 REV. iron ACE eat on, d.d. 
 
 He would brighten np a home hy his presence, preacli the 
 glorious gospel of repentance and of comfort ^ in a few words, 
 and be off again, in the time that others would require to 
 introduce conversation by some commonplace remarks. 
 
 Vast were the proportions of his pastoral labors. Eleven 
 hundred funerals ! To how many liomes, to how many 
 hearts, he must have carried the consolations of the gospel ! 
 How many sick-rooms he must have visited before those 
 funerals, and how many prayers lie must have offered there ! 
 No wonder he endeared himself to all this people He had 
 been with almost every family in sorrow or in joy. When 
 he read his resignation to this church, it came as a great 
 surprise to the people. Many left the church weeping. 
 They felt in their hearts, "It must not be. We can know 
 no other pastor." Only the thought that he would remain 
 here, and still counsel and give the benediction of his pres- 
 ence, reconciled them to a change. During the four years 
 and a half that have passed since then, he has ])een as a father 
 to us all. He has been a pastor to the i)astor, — such a help 
 as few pastors ever knew. He has been called upon in this 
 time to attend many funerals and weddings, and to perform 
 other pastoral duties; but it has been his great anxiety not 
 to embarrass in anv way his successor's work ; and he never 
 has in the slightest degree. On the contrary, he has helped 
 him daily by his encouraging words, his kindly counsel, and 
 his prayers. 
 
 There is not time to tell of the great refreshings this 
 church has enjoyed under his ministry. 
 
 Time fails also to speak of the Christian literature he has 
 distributed through these homes. He has scattered thou- 
 sands and thousands of interesting and well-selected tracts, 
 — he called them "sharpshooters," — and thousands of Chris- 
 tian almanacs. F'or twenty-six years he presented every 
 
 * In a brief call on a mother wlio had just buried a little child, he spoke of 
 the sweet prospect of re-union. "Yes," said the mourner, "if we do not fail." 
 His few words of reply, and the manner in which he uttered them, sent 
 strength and hope to the stricken heart : " Mrs. , we must not fail." 
 
SEEING ''HIM AS HE IS." 269 
 
 family in his congregation with a Christian almanac at the 
 beginning of the year.^ 
 
 1 These almanacs sometimes contained a printed New-year's greeting of 
 his own ; — 
 
 " Deau Eeader, — Time is the twinkling through which the future is 
 darting by us into the past. Yesterday is gone. To-morrow is unknown. 
 Eigliteen lumdred sixty-nine is fled, with more than tliirty millions of souls. 
 Eighteen hundred and seventy will claim an equal quota from among the 
 living. Before another new year shall dawn upon the frozen earth, who of 
 us shall know the mysteries of death ? 
 
 " But these New-year's thoughts should chasten, not quench, the greeting 
 " ' Happy New Year ! ' 
 
 " As we. cross a new meridian, let us leave behind old vices, errors, 
 neglects, animosities. Let us seek new strength for new trials, duties, suc- 
 cesses. Let us borrow less trouble of the future, and be more intent on 
 present duty ; complain less that life is short, and make it long by acts of 
 kindness to men and of piety towards God. Life is measured, not by the time 
 we live, but by the good we do. Repentance of sin, 
 
 "Trust in Jesus, 
 reverence for the Sabbatli, punctual attendance upon the House of God, dili- 
 gence in business, fervency in Spirit, serving the Lord, will make this new 
 year glide peacefully along, and if it shall prove our last, it will be the 
 happiest of all. Your friend and well-wisher, 
 
 "Palmyra, N.Y., Jan. 1, 1870. "HORACE EATON." 
 
 "LOCK UP. 
 
 "Buffalo is five hundred and sixty-five feet above Albany. The boatman 
 must make this entire ascent before he comes to the harbor at the terminus. 
 To do this he must avail himself of the locks at the end of every level. 
 Reader, if we would finally ' cast anchor within the veil,' must we not 
 * lock up "? 
 
 "Dear child, enjoy your fun, your food, your play, your home, but let 
 no scar cleave to your young life. Let the early dew linger on the tender 
 leaf. Let innocence, obedience to parents and teachers, love to the precious 
 Saviour, raise you to a pure and promising youth. 
 
 "Have you just emerged from childhood ? Be careful now to make no mistake. 
 Contract no soil. Laughing health, a sunnj^ countenance, a good name, 
 incorruptible principle, a pure conscience, and trust in God, will carry you up 
 into a mature life, freighted with eflaciency and usefulness. 
 
 " Have you come to the responsibilities of manhood, to the hazards of business, 
 and the care of others ? Aim for a still higher plane. Look well to the 
 
270 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 He was in great request on special occasions, such as 
 silver and golden weddings. Though his labors were very 
 arduous in other directions, he was ever ready with felicitous, 
 facetious, and instructive remarks. 
 
 Besides his pastoral labors here, he was, as it were, the pastor 
 of all the feeble and pastorless churches in the Presbytery. 
 They came long distances to confer with him. They knew 
 he was their friend, and that he loved them. He has been a 
 father to the Presbytery. He has seen all those who were 
 associated with him in the Presbytery, when he first came, 
 depart to other fields or to their final reward. He has seen 
 otliers come and go, and still others come. lUit he has 
 remained the wise counsellor of all, having in some sense 
 " the care of all the churches." He has preached sermons at 
 the dedication of many of our churches, at the ordination 
 and installation of many pastors within and without our 
 bounds. When we hold our next meeting, dear l^rethren of 
 Lyons Presbytery, there will be a vacancy which we shall 
 very deeply feel. We shall be like a family bereft of a father 
 to whom they were accustomed to go with all their perplexi- 
 ties and fears, and in whose wisdom and advice they had the 
 utmost confidence. 
 
 freight you take on board. Do impenitence, impatience, evil liabits, idleness, 
 rum, tobacco, plead for a passage ? Before you change almanacs and enter 
 upon another year, throw them all overboard. 'Lock ?/p ' into a higher life, 
 that will bear you on to a serene old age and a blissful eternity. Postpone 
 no longer the pleasure and safety of true wisdom and true religion. The new 
 year is the time to lock up. 
 
 "To the cliild, the youth, the man, to the aged, the voice of the 'IIAITY 
 NEW YEAR ' of 1871 is, ' Friend, come up higher.' 
 
 "'For the faithful and victorious. 
 
 Out of blindness, wide the portal 
 Openeth into light how glorious ! 
 Out of death to life immortal! 
 , Come up higher ! 
 
 Fair in this sweet land 
 The many mansions stand; 
 Come up higher ! ' 
 
 " Your friend and well-wisher, HORACE EATON. 
 
 "Jan. 1, 1871." 
 
SEEING "HIM AS HE IS." 271 
 
 . . . His heavy pastoral labors were relieved somewhat by 
 pleasant vacations, pleasant journeys in our own and other 
 lands. He liad visited many parts of our own country, east, 
 south, and west. . . . 
 
 He preached his last sermon ^ to his old people in this 
 church seven weeks ago, Aug. 29. The text itself. Josh. 
 1 : 8, was a fit and beautiful parting message to this people, 
 a message that ought to ring in our ears all the rest of our 
 days : " This book of the law shall not depart out of thy 
 mouth, but thou shalt meditate therein day and night, that 
 thou maj'est observe to do according to all that is written 
 therein, for then thou shalt make thy way prosperous, and 
 then thou shalt have good success." In this sermon he 
 pleads earnestly with the people to read the Holy Scriptures, 
 and meditate upon them. 
 
 Dear friends, this is a time for meditation. Let us not 
 hurry away from these services to our work, and forget the 
 feelings and good impulses of this hour. This is a time for 
 meditation, and for consecration. Let us think upon this 
 career, its unselfishness, its devotion, its peaceful close, its 
 present reward, and begin a new and better life. We know 
 how this man loved us. He loved this church and this peo- 
 ple so well, that he would have been willing to lay down his 
 life for them, if it had been necessary. In one sense he did 
 lay down his life for them. He has given all the strength of 
 his best years to the one endeavor to lead this people to 
 Christ. Oh that his love to us might constrain us all to love 
 his Saviour! It was the great aim of his life to save 
 souls. . . . There was an unexpressed but apparent desire in 
 his last illness, that his death should do what he had been 
 
 1 The text of the sermon previous to the last was Ps. 78 : 41 : " And 
 limited the Holy One of Israel." He was greatly interested and absorbed 
 while writing on this theme. He talked about it when he " sat in liis house 
 and when he walked by the way." "This is a great subject, A.," he said. 
 " We don't begin to fathom it. It is a great sin to ' limit the Holy One of 
 Israel.' How much more are we permitted, commanded, to trust God! How 
 much more would He do for us, for our friends, and for those for whom we 
 pray, if we did not limit Him !" 
 
272 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 trying to do in his life, — quicken the hearts of his people, 
 and lead souls to Christ. Oh that the Holy Spirit would 
 bring to our remembrance the earnest appeals he has made 
 to us as a peo])le, and to so many of us individually ! Shortly 
 before he was taken sick, he remarked at his liome, " I think 
 I have conversed personally with all, or nearl}^ all, of my 
 impenitent friends in this place. But I want to go around 
 and see each one of them again, and once more entreat them to 
 believe on the Lord Jesus Christ u'ith their whole hearts" 
 Hear from these sealed lips the words of warning and of 
 love he would fain have uttered ! 
 
 I think we may discern the goodness of God in taking our 
 father and friend at this time. He usually seemed to have 
 all the vigor and enthusiasm of his earlier life. There were 
 times when we were constrained to say, "His eye is not dim, 
 nor his natural force abated"; and yet there Avere others, 
 when it was evident that he must soon give up regular 
 work, and this he was intending to do the first of January. 
 He would have borne this with all the patience that became 
 a man of God ; and yet it would haVfe been very hard for 
 him. Such men as Dr. Eaton cannot easily lie upon a shelf. 
 I think it is almost always the prayer of men of such activity 
 that they may die in the harness. He continued his regular 
 ministrations till this serious illness came. The third Sabbath 
 before his death he was in his pulpit at Marion. The fol- 
 lowing week he selected the hymns for the next Sabbath's 
 service, and on his couch dictated his resignation. It was 
 his last effort at composition. 
 
 Our loss is very great, yet not so great as his gain. He 
 has left us many thoughts to comfort us. In one of his 
 recent sermons, entitled "Between Migdol and the Sea," he 
 says, "God brings His people into exigencies, that they may 
 have a sweeter experience of His name. His guiding, pro- 
 tecting, and comforting presence." Again: "But to every 
 true believer tliere comes a moment when his faith stands 
 still, and waits the voice, the hand, the salvation, of God, The 
 position of Moses was grand when he looked up straight to 
 heaven, saying, ' My soul, wait thou only, o}ilg upon God.' " 
 
SEEING "IIIM AS HE IS." 
 
 273 
 
 His last days were full of peace. Sabbath, the 7th of 
 October, two weeks before his death, was his seventy-third 
 birthday. His memory teemed with reminiscences of his 
 youth, especially as preparatory, and related to his great life- 
 work, the gospel ministry. 
 
 Every morning of the week preceding that last week of 
 prostration, he observed family prayers as regularly as 
 before. Another would read, and he, lying upon his lounge, 
 with clasped hands, would pray. One week ago last Satur- 
 day morning he conducted family prayer for the last time. 
 ''Bead the Bible,'' said he; ''read a good whiles The pas- 
 sages selected by another were the healing of the centurion's 
 servant and the raising of the widow's son. " Shall we read 
 more?"' was asked. "Yes; that is goodr But no one had 
 the self-control to read more. So there in his chair, "the 
 saint, the father, and the husband," in a sweet, feeble voice, 
 offered his last prayer at the family altar. Twice he stopped 
 from exhaustion, then resumed where he left off. He com- 
 menced by thanking God that He had made the way of sal- 
 vation so simple and easy, thanking Him that when we had 
 sinned he had not forgotten us, thanking Him for all His 
 providential dealings and great faithfulness, especially for 
 granting him the glorious privilege of preaching His gospel. 
 Then he prayed at length for his children, one by one, then 
 in the most fervent manner for all his kindred, then for a 
 long time he besought God for "the dear people in this 
 place, whom he had so feebly tried to serve," then for the 
 dear little flock at Marion. After a pause, brightening up, 
 and speaking with somewhat of his wonted energy, he prayed 
 that, if it were the Lord's will, he might be restored to 
 health, so that he could proclaim His truth and speak of His 
 love a little longer. Then he said, " We thank thee that we 
 are in thy hands, that we are not in our own hands," closing 
 with the most confiding, filial expression of gratitude, sub- 
 mission, and love. He then went to his room, which he 
 never left again. He did not take his bed until late on 
 Saturday afternoon. All day he admired the autumn leaves, 
 noticing particularly that there were green leaves with the 
 
274 . REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 faded and the yellow. He seemed so thanlcfully satisfied with 
 every thing. The food was "so palatable," friends were 
 " so kind and sympathetic." " If I were a king," said he, 
 "I could not have a pleasanter room than this." He alluded 
 with great interest to the beautiful text from which Rev. 
 William L. Page preached the funeral sermon of his son in 
 1868: "For I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded 
 that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto 
 Him against that day." " Yes," said he, " keep against the 
 day of death, keep against the day of judgment, keep for- 
 ever." 
 
 When the bells rang for church on the last Sabbath morn- 
 ing that he ever heard them, he said, with a slight look of 
 anxiety on his face, "What will they do at Marion to-day?" 
 then, with a satisfied smile, he added, " God loves His cause 
 better than I do,'' and turning on his side went tranquilly to 
 sleep. 
 
 Though the disease was congestion of the brain, there was 
 rarely any wandering of mind when fairly roused. There 
 was no cr}^ or moan or motion of distress, save now and then 
 some contortion of face when the "waves and surges of 
 pain," as he called them, swept through his head. These, 
 however, were temporary. During the last fourteen hours 
 of his life there were no indications whatever of pain. 
 
 On Monday morning his daughter said to him, "Father, I 
 must go away for a little while ; but mother is here." He 
 answered, ''■And God is here, Jesus is here.'^ How like John 
 Wesley's dying words : " The best of it all is, God is with 
 us, Jesus is with us"! At another time that forenoon: 
 " Religion first, Christ in the top."" 
 
 On the Tuesday before his death he sank very rapidly. In 
 the afternoon and evening he was insensible, and his pulse 
 very rai)id. It seemed to most of us that lie could not live 
 till morning. His son and one daugiiter were still far away. 
 But Wednesday morning he returned to consciousness, and 
 appeared so much like himself as to awaken in our anxious 
 liearts some hope of his recovery. He remahied quite bright 
 until Thursday, — until all his family, whom he loved so ten- 
 
SEEING ''HIM AS HE IS." . 275 
 
 derly, had gathered around him. It seeins now as if God 
 gave back his life for a little while, in answer to prayer, that 
 all liis family might have the blessing and comfort of hearing 
 his Words once more. 
 
 On Wednesday morning his wife and physician were by his 
 bedside. He looked lovingly to the former, and, calling her 
 by her first name, said, "Let us review the way the Lord has 
 led us. It a wonderful way, — wonderful, loonderfiiiy Then, 
 folding his hands, he broke forth into a prayer exquisite in 
 language, and indescribable in its petitions and expressions 
 of trust: "We bless thee, O Lord, for what thou hast done 
 for us, especially in these latter days. Thou hast led us all 
 our lives long, and redeemed us from evil." Then he prayed 
 for his children ; then for " the dear people to whom we have 
 so imperfectly ministered," begging the Lord to infold them 
 all, to let none wander, or neglect the great salvation. In all, 
 he had but one or two requests for himself. The pra3^er was 
 for others: '■'•Carry on thy ivork all over the world!'"' Then, 
 " Lord, if it can be thy will, give us an easy passage." He 
 ended with an ascription of praise to the Deity, much like 
 that he was Avont to use in the pulpit. No words can give 
 any idea of this his last audible prayer. 
 
 Thursday morning he repeated this text, " A glorious high 
 throne from the beginning is the place of our sanctuary." 
 " It's a throne ; it's a glorious throne; a high throne, — yes, 
 high throyiey In intervals of consciousness he gave utter- 
 ance to such expressions as these: "The wonderful unfold- 
 ings of God's providence " ! " Greatly bless the dear people 
 we have tried to lead!" With what emphasis did he utter 
 the words, " Crod is good, so good " .'' 
 
 Thursday, just before noon, he awoke, after a refreshing 
 nap. His daughter said, " You've had a sweet sleep, father." 
 — " Have I ? " he replied. Then, pausing a little, " My days 
 are ahnost over for sleeping, — sinning, — repenti7ig ; — hut my 
 singing is yet to come.'''' 
 
 His hands frequently moved, making those significant ges- 
 tures with which we are all so familiar. It seemed as if he 
 would preach with his hands when his voice could no longer 
 
276 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 speak. Ilis last words were spoken on Friday afternoon, to 
 his family assembled around his bed. They were, ^^ Meet me 
 in he 
 
 aven .' 
 
 / " 
 
 Saturday afternoon the last scene began. The river was 
 wide in the place where he crossed, the time long that he was 
 in the current ; but the waves and billows were not higli, or 
 rough, or boisterous. At the first he gazed with eyes of ten- 
 derness and recognition from one to another, and "looked the 
 words he could not speak." He raised his hands in response 
 to the prayer of the pastor. The ripples on the river where 
 it touched the other shore were so gentle that they were 
 scarcely heard. The ph3'sician leaned over him, and said, 
 " Is it possible that that soul has stolen away, and we do not 
 know it?" 
 
 What was next for him? We stand in the position which 
 he occupied three weeks ago, when he wrote to a friend in 
 New York, after Dr. Hatfield's death : — 
 
 "In vain my fancy strives to paint 
 The moment after death, 
 The glories that surround the saint 
 When yielding up his breath." 
 
 As a parishioner listened to the solemn tolling of the bell 
 last Sabbath morning, she beautifully said, '•'' He has gone early 
 this morning., to he in season to hold a reunion-service with the 
 Palmyra Christians ivho loved him so much."" What a large 
 congregation of his old people must have greeted him ! There 
 are more there than here. Of the church-members who wel- 
 comed him thirty-five years ago, only forty-four remain. 
 
 "One family we dwell in Ilim, 
 One church above, beneath." 
 
 Our brother, friend, and father has gone to rest. His face, 
 so beautiful to us all in life, so peaceful in death, calls to mind 
 these words in one of the old hymns he loved : — 
 
 " Let cares like a wild deluge come, 
 And storms of sorrow fall. 
 May I but safely reach my home. 
 My God, my heaven, my all! 
 
SEEING ''HIM AS HE IS." 277 
 
 " There shall I bathe my weary soul 
 In seas of heavenly rest, 
 And not a wave of trouble roll 
 Across my peaceful breast." 
 
 Remarks of Rev. A. M. Stowe : — 
 
 For more than thirty years it has been my privilege to 
 call our deceased brother a dear friend. While a student 
 in Auburn Theological Seminary in 1850, he invited me to 
 spend a winter vacation with him. Those three weeks of 
 Christian work in Palmyra Avere the commencement of a 
 lifelong friendship. It was a great privilege to know such 
 a man as Dr. Eaton, and to know him in his family as well 
 as in his pulpit. 
 
 In these brief remarks I would emphasize two or three 
 thoughts which are just now prominent in my mind. 
 
 First, The exercises at his daily family altar gave me an 
 opportunity to observe his love and reverence for the Sacred 
 Scriptures. His explanations of the Bible were original. You 
 could carry them away with you, and feed upon them. He 
 was ever seeking after the root of the Scripture thought. The 
 Hebrew and the Greek were familiar languages to him ; and 
 those present had the advantage of his knowledge. 
 
 Very early in his ministry in Palmyra he sought to supply 
 this entire community with the Scriptures and with those 
 books which explain and enforce the truths of God's word. 
 This was my mission during that vacation. I left his door 
 in the morning with the precious load, and returned in the 
 evening to render my report. I remember those evening 
 talks, encouraging words, and good cheer. 
 
 Again: All classes loved Dr. Eaton, because he loved them. 
 You who compose this vast audience to-day have closed your 
 banks and offices and stores, and are here because of your 
 great regard for him. You can bear witness that he drew 
 you up to his heart. He prayed for you, he toiled for you, 
 in your sickness and in your health, in prosperity and adver- 
 sity: he was your interested friend. His devotion of soul 
 embraced every class of citizens. He was willing to serve 
 with diligence not only, but with a self-abnegation that often 
 
278 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 amazed the people. . . . He would pronounce those words 
 " Whosoever will, let him come " with peculiar power. He 
 was patient with the fallen ; and his wise guiding hand led 
 nianj- from paths of danger. In the lecture-room, in 
 public halls, and with his able pen, he aided every philan- 
 thropic cause. All these years he has given no uncertain 
 sound touching the great evil of intemperance. Few have 
 done more for the poor intemperate man than our dear 
 departed friend. His memory is very dear. Let us all 
 "remember the words he spoke while he was yet with us." 
 And may we be taught so to number our days that we may 
 also apply our hearts unto wisdom. 
 
 Remarks of Rev. A. Parke Burgess at the funeral of Rev. 11. Eaton, 
 D.D. 
 
 . . . With you all I am here as a mourner. ... I am to 
 speak in behalf of L3^ons Presbytery. Since Dr. Eaton has 
 been called out of it, I am forcibly reminded that I am now 
 the senior member, — oldest, in the ranks and in active ser- 
 vice, of all who are left. So, in behalf of my brothers, I place 
 a tribute of affection and veneration on the casket of our 
 loved father, the patriarch of our churches. It has been well 
 asked, " What will Lyons Presbytery do without him ? " For 
 years he has presented reports upon home missions and 
 Auburn Seminary,^ such as, for scope and mention and happy 
 
 1 From his last Report on Auburn Theological Seminary (1883). . . . 
 Thirty-five years ago I was invited to this more favored i)ortion of the prom- 
 ised land. Then I joined the company of those wlio went up to their yearly 
 festival at their AVestern New York Jerusalem. Tlie place, so "beautiful for 
 situation," the reception so cordial, the communion so fraternal, soon assured 
 me that I was not an alien, but "a fellow-citizen of the saints"; and the 
 memories that twined around another seminary were charmed away, and fixed 
 upon the school of my adoption. At my first visit, Drs. Hickok and Mills 
 were the rabbis. I saw the inauguration of Drs. Hall and Condit. Men die : 
 institutions live. New teachers filled the chairs made vacant. New man- 
 sions, splendid public halls, adorn the ground. Auburn has been favored of 
 earth and Heaven. 
 
 It is a pleasure to make a report to you of our school of the prophets. . . . 
 But the interest culminates in the theological examination. Here we found no 
 fractional orthodoxy, but a system self-consistent, and in substantial agreement 
 
SEEING ''HIM AS HE IS." 279 
 
 expression, I fear we shall not have, now that he is gone. 
 How his heart warmed and enlarged over these vast interests 
 of the kingdom ! Much as he loved and brooded over the 
 feeble churches here at home, — and none cared for them 
 more constantly, — yet it was always his desire to see our 
 home missionary gifts, as largely as possible, sent beyond 
 " the great river," the Mississippi, for the work of God 
 along that frontier of advancing population. Many will 
 remember how deeply his feelings were enlisted in that Home 
 Missionary Convention held in this church a few days ago. 
 How he enjoyed the whole of it ! And when he took by the 
 hand that artless, earnest young woman. Miss Alice W. 
 Robertson, after her tender appeal for the western tribes 
 among whom her father had lived and died, I remember how 
 warmly he congratulated her upon her work, and said, " Oh, 
 if I were a young man again, how I would love to go and 
 pour out my life on the great frontier ! There lingered yet 
 in his soul the zeal for missions that had come to him in 
 youth, in answer to his mother's prayer. And the "suppli- 
 cation in the spirit " which he offered to God in that conven- 
 tion, as he rose amid breathless silence, after the address 
 upon Texas, by Brother Riggs, his own son in the gospel — 
 who that heard it will ever forget? How he seized upon 
 the very heavens, and brought them down by his faith and 
 importunity ! It was like the prayer of the venerable Dr. 
 Schaufler, at the American Board meeting in Syracuse a few 
 years ago, when, with his hands lifted towards heaven, he 
 pleaded with God till it seemed as though he reached the very 
 summit of the ladder of prayer, and laid his burden at the 
 mercy-seat. 
 
 with, though not enslaved by, our creed. The appeal was " to the law and 
 the testimony," — everywhere "Let God be true." There was no shying by 
 distinctive, and, to some, offensive points. . . . The announcement "after 
 death the judgment," is taken as final. In regard to the discriminations of the 
 future world, the professor of theology thinks it unsafe to be more merciful 
 or less just than the Lord Jesus Christ. He seems to have no ambition to 
 discover another probation beyond this present life. 
 
 However haze may linger around other pinnacles, " sunshine settles on the 
 head " of Auburn. 
 
280 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 A secret feeling entered some hearts that day, as Dr. 
 Eaton sat down, that perhaps he woiiUI never again in public 
 give utterance to such a pra3"er; and it was liis last. 
 
 In Presbytery, Brother Eaton was universally loved, and 
 a favorite. He was a man of peace. His heart was so 
 tender and sensitive that any attrition with his brethren was 
 alwa3's too painful for him. And yet no man was braver 
 than he when the truth was to be spoken and the right 
 defended. 
 
 But he needs no eulogy. Perhaps some time a stone may 
 be erected to mark his resting-place ; but he has already a 
 monument. This puljjit is his monument; and these pews, 
 this Sunday-school, this prayer-meeting, this church, these 
 hundreds of homes where his voice was familiar in seasons 
 of joy and sorrow, — all are monuments to his sacred memory. 
 " How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of Him that 
 bringeth good tidings! " The very streets of Palm3'ra are 
 more beautiful because he has trodden tliem so often. . . . 
 
 As we gather around this casket, and look upon that loved 
 face, " beautiful in death," we can again say : — 
 
 " Servant of God, well done ! 
 Kcst from thy loved employ ; 
 The battle fought, the victory won, 
 Enter thy Master's joy." 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MEMORIAL SEUVICE AT MARION. — MEMORIAL SERVICE IN 
 THE SABBATH-SCHOOL AT PALMYRA. 
 
 On Sabbath evening, Oct. 28, memorial services were held at the 
 church in Marion, where Dr. Eaton had ministered for the last four 
 years. 
 
 From the " Marion Enterprise " : — 
 
 " Despite the unfavorable weather, the house was filled to its utmost 
 capacity. The wall, pulpit, and vacant chair were heavily draped. The 
 decorations were emblematic and beautiful. Appropriate music was 
 rendered by a select choir. Addresses were made by Brothers Runyan, 
 Merrill, Kolyn, Maxwell, Hammond, and Short. A deep and touching 
 interest was manifested throughout. All present seemed to join in the 
 heartfelt tributes to an able man, a remarkable pastor, and a servant 
 of the Lord universally venerated and beloved." 
 
 Rev. W. W. Runyan of the Methodist Church said, — 
 
 " It is not my purpose to pronounce a eulogy. I shall better consult 
 the proprieties of the occasion, and better honor the memory of our ven- 
 erable friend departed, by giving my estimate and impressions of him in 
 sober and selected words. 
 
 " I have known Dr. Eaton for eighteen years. For twelve of those years 
 I admired and revered him. During the six remaining years I have 
 admired, revered, and loved him, because I knew him better. Horace 
 Eaton was no ordinary man. Were other proofs of this wanting, his 
 successful pastorate of thirty years in Palmyra would sufficiently demon- 
 strate his intrinsic ability and the amplitude of his resources. His nature 
 was full and round. He was strong at many points, wise in many ways, 
 endowed with many gifts. He was genial yet dignified, prudent yet 
 courageous, polite without affectation, learned without pedantry, widely 
 honored and influential, yet humble in bearing, and meek in spirit. Open 
 as the day, he yet possessed a wakeful sagacity and admirable tact. With 
 the strength of his robust manhood was blended the simplicity, the trans- 
 parency, of a child. For my own part, I must avow I never knew any- 
 
282 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 where, in any denomination of Cliristians, a man who more fully realized 
 and exemplified tlie ideal minister. "We all know, everybody knows, 
 how nnifornily kind, friendly, benignant, he was. He had a courteous, 
 brotherly, or perhaps fatherly salutation for every one. In this respect, 
 and partly for this reason perhaps, 
 
 ' None knew him but to love him, 
 None named liim but to praise.' 
 
 And this habitual and unfailing urbanity sprang from the real goodness 
 of a philanthropic Christian heart. It was not assumed for a purpose or 
 an occasion. It was not put on. It was the spontaneous out-put of a 
 large and generous natui-e. It was the man himself shining through and 
 shining out, and sometimes it well-nigh transfigured him before our eyes. 
 His personal magnetism was something quite extraordinary, perhaps 
 incredible to those who did not know him well. I cannot here attempt 
 to analyze it, or account for it ; but certain it is that he possessed a singu- 
 lar power of attracting and attaching men to himself, and yet to all appear- 
 ances was unconscious of the gift. I wonder at it as I think of it, now 
 he is gone, and then again I do not wonder; for he was so good and 
 honest, so frank and friendly, so ingenuous, truthful, sterling, — an 
 * upright man,' perpendicular by the Lord's plummet. 
 
 " His preaching, especially while he was at the meridian of his physi- 
 cal powei's, held and edified all classes of hearers : sometimes it electrified 
 them, or moved to grateful tears. But perhaps he pleased best the most 
 cultivated and most spiritual in his congregation. He was a master of 
 statement. His sentences were crisp, incisive, clean-cut, luminous. His 
 diction was mainly from the sturdy old Anglo-Saxon. His written style 
 was a model of chaste elegance and vigor. It would bear a microscope. 
 Without superfluities, without gaudy ornaments, it was as beautiful as 
 the gleam of an angel's wing. Yet style was never the end with him, 
 but always a means to an end. He had something to say, and he said it, 
 knowing exactly how to say it. His discourses were terse, condensed, 
 cumulative, sometimes climacteric. They were richly freighted, too, from 
 alpha to omega, from exordium to peroration. Some speakers hammer 
 out the truth into gold-leaf : Dr. Eaton gave us truth in coin, ingots, and 
 solid bullion. It is needless to say that he made elaborate, conscientious 
 preparation for his jiulpit-work. Like the householder of the gospel, he 
 brought forth out of his treasure things new and old. He fed his flock 
 with a careful bounty. From the storehouse of the Scriptures he spread 
 forth the bread and wine of the kingdom, and oil well beaten. The 
 extent of his reading and research was surprising ; yet his vast wealth of 
 materials did not confuse or embarrass him; for it was fused, refined, and 
 
MEMORIAL SERVICES. 283 
 
 recast in the crucible of his own meditations. I found it a treat, often a 
 benediction, to listen to him, and could but admire his robust integrity 
 as a thinker. Perhaps he sometimes packed too much thought into a 
 discourse for the average congregation. If so, it was a fault in the right 
 direction, and one that intelligent hearers easily forgive. Would that 
 l^reachers in these days were more generally guilty of it ! They should 
 trust the people more, honor the intelligence of the people more. The 
 masses of men crave the truth, hunger and thirst and inwardly pant for 
 the truth. They know they are rushing onward to the grave, and they 
 will drink in whole Niagaras of truth when they can get it, — the living 
 truth of God ; for oh the soul of the people is parched and faint, and all 
 athirst for living water from the Everlasting Fountain. 
 
 "The doctor's occasional contributions to the weekly press were gems 
 of their kind, and I made it a pomt to read whatever came from his pen 
 in that line. 
 
 "I must not omit to say that Dr. Eaton was a pronounced and 
 imswerving advocate of the temperance cause under circumstances of 
 peculiar difficulty. He rebuked the manufacture and sale of intoxicating 
 drinks with the fire and vehemence of an ancient Hebrew propliet, and 
 he did so in public and in private, and in social circles ; but he ever 
 spoke the truth in love. He held aloft the temperance standard, and 
 held it high, with full knowledge that his course would rouse bitter 
 hostility. He saw the difficulties of his position — saw them plainly. 
 He felt the trial — felt it keenly. But he would not falter, would not 
 compromise the truth, would not lower the standard an iota or a tittle. 
 He deliberately and dispassionately resolved to act on principle, be the 
 consequences to himself what they might. Said he in my hearing, ' Let 
 us do our duty in this matter without regarding consequences. Conse- 
 quences belong to Ck)d.' Is he sorry now ? Could he have lived long 
 enough, his voice would have been heard again and again, ringing high 
 and clear in the din of the great conflict which is fast coming in this 
 land. But the INIaster saw fit to take him a^ay from the ti'oubles of this 
 present evil world. He had done enough, and had done it well. Yea, 
 verily, his was a fine courage. Underneath the lamblike gentleness of the 
 man there throbbed a lion-heart. The heroic and chivalric were cardinal 
 elements in his make-up. 
 
 " But, though Dr. Eaton was a man with positive convictions and a 
 marked individuality, he was not a man of one idea or a solitary hobby, 
 mentally warped or intellectually deformed. Xo. He was symmetry 
 itself embodied. He was cognizant of many relations to society and the 
 world. His sympathies were wide, and his sensibilities keen.- He 
 projected feelers and feeders in all directions. His nature was many- 
 sided, as the Germans say, and it was receptive on all sides. Travel and 
 
284 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 observation had made him a cosmopolitan, a citizen of the globe, in his 
 range of tlioiiglit. He loved science, poetry, and art. He loved to trace 
 the hand of God in current history. He loved little children. 'Behold, 
 how he loved them ! ' He loved the birds, the lilies, the mountains, the 
 deep, deep sea, and, next to the cross of Christ, the flag of his native 
 land. . . . 
 
 " He threw the arms of a loving, humble faith around the cross of 
 Christ. To lift up that cross befoi'e the eyes of dying men was the holy 
 purpose and the best achievement of his useful life. He turned many 
 to righteousness, and doubtless he will shine as a star for ever and ever. 
 
 "It is among the precious treasures of my life that I have known this 
 good man, and may remember him as a counselor and friend. To me 
 it was like sunrise to meet him on the street, like the smile of a benignant 
 Providence to see his face, and share his converse in the privacy of his 
 library, which he playfully called his ' den.' But none of us can 
 monopolize him. All good citizens can claim a share in Dr. Eaton, for 
 he was the friend of all. No denominational barriers can bound his 
 fame. No sectarian channel can confine the rolling river of his influ- 
 ence, for ecclesiastical bars could not limit his charity, his services, his 
 benefactions, or his friendships. The memory of the just is blessed. 
 
 " Dr. Eaton had laid up much treasure in heaven, and now he has 
 gone to possess it. From that eminence, I doubt not, he will continue 
 to contemplate the drama of time, which while here he watched with so 
 much interest. From that elevation he will gaze upon the angel having 
 the everlasting gospel as he flies from sea to sea and from the river to 
 the ends of the earth. From that happy seat he will by and by hear the 
 Sabbath chimes and mission-bells while they peal forth one continuous 
 triumph round a world redeemed. . . . Prince in Israel, farewell. 
 Farewell, loved and cherished friend. Thrice honored be tliy grave 
 among the graves of the good. Thrice happy be thy spirit among the 
 spirits of the blest." 
 
 A memorial service was held in the Sabbath-school at Palmyra on 
 the Sabbath following Dr. Eaton's funeral, under the lead of jNIr. Lucius 
 II. Foster, superintendent. We give some of the thoughts of the 
 speakers. Rev. W. II. Landon, the pastor, addressed the younger 
 scholars, and related some incidents in Dr. Eaton's childhood and 
 youth. 
 
 Remarks of Deacon ^I. B. Riggs : — 
 
 " Dr. Eaton went home one week ago this morning. Blessed man ! 
 Dear old pastor! We know your humble soul was surprised at the 
 height of your place in heaven. When Dorcas died, they showed Peter 
 
MEMORIAL SERVICES. 285 
 
 the coats and garments which she had made. The importance of her 
 life to the living was thus vividly portrayed to Peter ; anii the picture 
 led him to kneel, to pray, and to exclaim, ' Tabitha, arise ! and she sat 
 up.' "With such a notable example before us, may not we appi'oiiriately 
 and profitably exhibit a few coats and garments which our late pastor 
 made for us as a church ? Although we may not expect him to be 
 presented to us alive, will not the review aid us in estimating his char- 
 acter, the value of his life, and enforce the example which he has set for 
 us, the precepts he has left, and help to perpetuate his influence upon us 
 and upon the community ? 
 
 " At his suggestion, several young men undertook to surround the 
 church with trees. Most of them were recent converts, students in our 
 school, and at that time had the ministry in view. They repaired to the 
 woods and selected fine, vigorous saplings. Dr. Eaton w^as present at 
 this tree-planting,i and the beautiful maple near the south-east corner 
 of our church was set out by his own hands. He was upon his knees 
 while he did the work. Many a time has he been on his knees before 
 our heavenly Father, pleading earnestly that we might be planted and 
 rooted in the faith of the Bible. Many of the sturdy pillars of our 
 church were planted and watered by him ; ay, and have not his teach- 
 ings enhanced the spiritual growth of us all? Let us never pass that 
 tree without recalling to mind the one who planted it, and his prayers on 
 bended knee for us. 
 
 " When we needed a lecture-room, it was Dr. Eaton who solicited and 
 obtained the funds necessary for the work ; and the money which paid for 
 the spacious and substantial pavement in front of our church was raised 
 by him. When we needed shelter for our teams, he was instrumental in 
 effecting the very judicious purchase of the grounds where our sheds now 
 stand. When our house of worship required modernizing and enlarge- 
 ment, his necessary and untiring services were cheerfully rendered to 
 assist in providing funds ; and so was it when the money was contributed 
 to pay for our melodious and beautiful organ. 
 
 " But among the many efficient and earnest efforts of our late pastor 
 to promote the welfare and prosperity of our congregation, perhaps none 
 more clearly exhibited his thorough unselfishness and his earnest zeal 
 than what he did towards securing to us a parsonage, and making it 
 available for his successor. He did not expect to occupy it, or that his 
 family would do so, yet that did not stay his efforts ; but, Samuel-like, 
 the same cheerful service was as freely rendered as that which he gave 
 before his resignation. 
 
 1 Dr. Eaton used laughingly to call the trees around the church his 
 " vegetable children." 
 
286 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 " But greater things than these has he done for us. He "svas our spir- 
 itual teacher. We have all i^artaken of the heavenly manna with which 
 he fed us, and although we may have eaten it as we did our daily bread, 
 without realizing that it was aliment as necessary to our spiritual growth 
 as the staff of life to our bodies, yet results show its importance. Dur- 
 ing his pastorate here, some fourteen have gone out to proclaim the gos- 
 pel message, — some in our own and some in foreign lands. Others beside 
 these fourteen commenced preparation for the gospel ministry, but were 
 oblif'-ed, by ill-health and other reasons, to abandon it. 
 
 " He was the pioneer and faithful supporter of a ministers' Monday- 
 morning Prayer and Conference Meeting, which has doubtless been an 
 important factor in securing the very cordial relations which have ever 
 existed between the several churches of our village. Dr. Eaton has been 
 laying foundations as imperishable as adamant. God grant that we may 
 be worthy sons and daughters of such a father, and may our last end be 
 like his ! " 
 
 Samuel B. McIntyre, Esq., spoke in substance as follows: — 
 
 " To us among whom he walked. Dr. Eaton did not seem to be occu- 
 pying any commanding position. Yet the brilliant names of orators, 
 soldiers, authors, and statesmen of the present, will gradually fade away, 
 while the name of Dr. Eaton for long years will be held in loving 
 remembrance, and be a very household word, not only in this community, 
 but in the hearts of many scattered over this nation and in foreign lands. 
 Other lives may now seem splendid in comparison with his ; but his life 
 and examjile will always remain in sight, like the star which steadily 
 shines on in its serene height, while the meteor-flashes have disappeared 
 in the darkness they have but temporarily illumined. 
 
 "lie was humble. He sought no fame. He perfectly expressed in 
 his pure and crystalline character and life what is most precious and 
 pure in any character and life, — Christian love and charity. We can- 
 not rightly understand such lives, unless we take them as a whole, unless 
 we enter in some measure into sympathy with them, and thus are able to 
 comprehend the secret springs, motives, and pui-poses that ennobled 
 them. How much like Paul was Dr. Eaton ! It was because of this 
 sympathy that Dr. Eaton so loved Paul. And when we fully sympathize 
 •with such a life as that of our departed pastor, then will we begin also 
 to realize as he did the idea of a living, active, personal Saviour, full of 
 power, but also full of simplicity, kindness, and love. Tluis will our 
 souls be dilated and remodeled, and our hearts filled with a perpetual 
 fountain of joy. But is not his life a terrible rebuke to those of us who 
 have doubted the possibility of exercising the faith required of a true 
 servant of the Lord? — to those who have halted at the promises, and 
 
MEMORIAL SERVICES. 287 
 
 have felt that they were true only in a certain spiritualized sense, and 
 have never realized their fulness, power, and richness? To those of 
 us who have not dared to follow Christ as our exemplar in all things 
 and at all times, from a fear, perhaps belief, that it was not in human 
 nature to obey the command to ' take up our cross daily, and follow 
 Him, with what force of i^ebuke comes this life, that has before our eyes, 
 for over thirty years, been acting out the possibility, nay, the reality, of 
 so living, resolving all doubts hy the fact ! Here has been one to whom 
 all could point and say, ' Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom thei'e is no 
 guile.' 
 
 "I have been asked to refer to the mental characteristics of Dr. 
 Eaton. I find it impossible to analyze and detach any portion of his 
 mental from his religious life. As the component colors of God's 
 sunlight are so blended together into a pure white radiance, that the 
 unaided human eye cannot resolve them into their different shades, so 
 the religious and mental characteristics of our dear friend were closely 
 interwoven, and I have no prism with which to separate them. They 
 all together went to make the man. ... It is impossible to point out in 
 the whole range of my acquaintance one who was so simple and yet so 
 grand. One could not but involuntarily compare him to a block of 
 granite hewn from the adamantine hills of his native State, strong, firm, 
 sturdy, solid, yet shaped and polished by divine grace and intellectual 
 culture; and so he stood, simple in his grandeur, and grand in his 
 simplicity. I wondered in my younger days at this peculiar union of 
 seemingly contradictory characteristics, but came fully to understand 
 it later in life. All recollect his great love for the strong, solid, and real 
 in every thing, and his aversion to all shams. He was an ardent lover 
 of animal and physical nature. To his kitten and horse he talked as to 
 friends. He was not 'looking through Nature up to Nature's God,' 
 but 'saw God in every thing.' 
 
 " Whatever came under his observation, at home cr abroad, became 
 to him vivid in significance, and rich in suggestion of moral fact or 
 religious doctrine. . . . 
 
 " In many particulars there were points of harmony between Dr. Eaton 
 and my deceased father.^ There was the same love of the strong and the 
 solid, the same love of Nature. They early became friends ; and it was 
 no wonder they were friends, for Dr. Eaton was the friend of every one. 
 And when they meet above, as I believe they will, my father will be one 
 among the many who will say to him, ' It is owing to your words, your 
 life, and your example, that I am here.' " 
 
 ^ Alexander Mclntyre, M.D., of Palmyra, N.Y. 
 
288 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 Remarks of Henry R. Durfee, Esq. 
 
 " When the elders of Ephesus went down to Miletus for what proved 
 to be their farewell interview witli Paul, at the close of that most affect- 
 ing scene, it is related that 'they all wept sore . . . sorrowing most of 
 all for the words which he spake, tliat tliey should see his face no more.' 
 The apostle liad spoken to them of the dangers and trials which they 
 were to encounter ; but it was not of these that they thought as tliey said 
 farewell. 
 
 "It was their sense of personal loss which filled their eyes with tears 
 as they realized that the loved presence of their friend and teacher would 
 shortly disappear from their sight forever. 
 
 " And so it is with us as we gather here to make some expression of 
 our grief at the loss of our friend and teacher. It is our loss that we 
 lament to-day. For him, to die is gain. In this assemblage it is not 
 so much the man of mark, of wide influence, of high attainments, fitted 
 worthily to bear the title of ' doctor of divinity,' as it is our friend, 
 endeared to us by long acquaintance and companionship, Avhom we 
 mourn. And I think that the personal qualities and traits which 
 attracted us, and gained him our affection, are at this time uppermost 
 in all our minds. 
 
 " In recalling the personal characteristics of our dear friend and pastor, 
 it has seemed to me that one of the most marked was his constant and 
 abomiding cheerfidness. There was nothing lugubrious or forbidding 
 about his piety or his presence ; but they shone with the gladsome light 
 and warmth of the sunshine wherever he went, whether it were to the 
 house of feasting, or to the chamber of the sick and the house of mourn- 
 ing. Neither his familiarity with the sorrows of his wide circle of 
 friends and parishioners, nor his personal and private griefs and disap- 
 pointments, seemed able permanently to depress his spirits. This arose, 
 not from cynical indifference, or stoical fortitude, — for none was more 
 sympathetic, compassionate, and tender-hearted than he, — but from the 
 dejith and serenity of his faith. 
 
 " Having that hope which is ' an anchor to the soul, both sure and 
 steadfast,' and an implicit trust in the wisdom and goodness of our 
 heavenly Father, his elastic and sanguine temi^erament rose above all 
 the gloom which obscured the way into the pure sunlight of the divine 
 love. 
 
 " Another characteristic was his keen perception and love of the sub- 
 lime and beautiful. His was the true poetic soul, to which ' a thing of 
 beauty is a joy forever.' Whether he listened to the giant harp of the 
 wind-swept woods, the 'breezy call of incense-breathing morn,' the songs 
 of the birds, the pealing thunder, or the deep diapason of the sea, his ear 
 
MEMORIAL SERVICES. 2S9 
 
 was attuned to all their harmonies. And, in driving \vith him about the 
 country, I have frequently noticed how quick he was to observe the vary- ' 
 ing beauties of the landscape, and to note the changing forms and colors 
 of "the clouds, and the fields and flowers and foliage on our way. He 
 recognized with reverent delight the voice of the Great Creator in every 
 harn°ony of wind or wave, and His creative hand in every perfect form 
 or tint of earth or sky. 
 
 "We who have listened to his preaching cannot fail to remember 
 with what a skilful touch, and with what a glow of enthusiasm, he pre- 
 sented to us the pictures in which the Master is the central figure, and 
 described the grassy mountain-sides and the sparkling waters of Galilee, 
 or spoke of the lilies of the field, the great oaks of Bashan, and the tall 
 cedars of Lebanon. 
 
 " And as in Nature, so also in literature and art, whatever was grand 
 and beautiful found in him an appreciative and enthusiastic admirer. 
 
 " Nor was this refined, aesthetic taste and perception at all allied to 
 weakness. On the contrary, he had in his character not a little of the 
 granite of his native hills. Gentle and affable and kindly as he was, no 
 man ever knew him to flinch where a principle was involved, or, from 
 fear of personal sacrifice or discomfort, to shrink from an arduous 
 undertaking. 
 
 " A little incident which I witnessed will illustrate this. A number 
 of years ago the snow fell to a very great depth, and on the morning 
 after the storm ceased, as one of the neighbors and myself were out 
 shovellmg off the sidewalk, we saw Dr. Eaton coming up the street, on 
 his way to visit a sick parishioner. 
 
 " The walk had been cleared for a part of the distance, and, when he 
 reached the end of the path, I called to him to wait a few minutes, and 
 we would shovel down to him. ' Oh, no ! ' he shouted cheerily back : ' I 
 wasn't born in New Hampshire for nothing ! ' And without more ado he 
 plunged waist-deep into the drifted snow, and lustily struggled through. 
 " And so it was in all his work. No war of elements or opinions, and 
 no obstacles, natural or conventional, could deter him from vigorously 
 and valiantly following the path in which he believed duty called him. 
 
 "To the preaching of the Word, also, he brought a like courage and 
 vigor, and robustness of understanding. He was not afraid to grapple 
 with the great problems of the life that now is and that which is to 
 come, and\vith the profound truths of the Scriptures ; and he brought 
 to their consideration a grasp of mind, and an intentness and clearness 
 of thought, to follow which, may indeed have sometimes required a 
 severe intellectual exercise on the part of his hearers, but which was 
 most truly edifying to thoughtful minds. And yet I think he loved 
 
290 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 especially to dwell upon the divine tenderness and compassion, and to 
 entreat us by the mercies of (iod to be reconciled to Him. 
 
 "Of the beauty and purity of his life and character, of his many years 
 of faithful, loving labor among us, of the influence which he has exer- 
 cised and the good which he has done, we all are witnesses, and it is 
 needless for me to speak. Much as we revered, admired, and loved him 
 living, we realize these things now, perhaps, more than ever, — now that 
 his life among us has ended. 
 
 "As I took my final look at the dear, familiar features, so calm and 
 peaceful in their last sleep, it seemed to me that they had caught a reflec- 
 tion of the beauty and the glory and the joy of the saints' rest. 
 
 " Well may we sorrow that we shall see his face no more. Yet his 
 teachings and his life shall not fail from our memory. These shall rest 
 upon and remain with us like a benediction, — and an inspiration, also, 
 — leading each of us with sweet persuasion to a nobler, purer, and higher 
 life." 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS. — PRESS NOTICES. — RESOLU- 
 TIONS. — MURAL TABLET. — ANNIVERSARY ELEGY, "BE- 
 SIDE HIS GRAVE," OCT. 24, 1884. 
 
 The richest feature of the multitude of letters received from dear 
 friends, expressive of esteem, love, and even reverence for the departed, is 
 that they so gratefully refer to helpful and uplifting influences received 
 from him. Selections from a few give the drift of many. 
 
 From E. Payson Griffin, Esq., New York : — 
 
 " For many years I have seen but little of him, but I had not forgotten 
 him. How could I forget him who had been the means, under God, of my 
 conversion ? Many of the pleasantest recollections of my life are asso- 
 ciated with him. ... I thank God for bringing me in contact with such 
 a man." 
 
 From William D. Porter, Esq., treasurer of National Temperance 
 Society, New York : — 
 " . . . I remember the Thanksgiving sermon, November, 1845, when 
 your husband preached upon the sinfulness of war. I recall one sugges- 
 tive remark, ' Volcanoes are the world's safety-valves.' The sermon he 
 preached on Sabbath morning, INIarch 15, 18-iG, from Luke ]4::28, led 
 me, after a two-hoiu's' struggle, to accept of Christ as my Saviour ; and I 
 shall bless him for that sermon through eternity. . . . The last time we 
 met was at the golden wedding of Uncle William E. Dodge, at Tarry- 
 town, June 21, 1870." 
 
 From Gen. John Eaton, Washington, D.C. : — 
 
 "Dear Uncle Horace seemed to me the same growing character from 
 the first to the last memory I have of him. The freshness of spirit that 
 attracted me as a child he never lost. He always had the same strength 
 and firmness joined with tender sympathy and consideration. His self- 
 sacrifice knew no limits when required by the Master. He would do all 
 and siiffer all, that he might serve Him, and win souls. I have before me 
 now his first letter and his last to me. How much of his influence upon 
 me and our family they compass and recall ! The first, yellow with years, 
 
292 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 and torn, was written Avhen I was too small to read it. He Avas then in 
 college, and engaged in a struggle for his education, in which few stu- 
 dents would think of benefiting a child. The last bears date Aug. 31, 
 and was written a short time before his death. How like him are both ! 
 These letters especially show how he felt the duties and privileges of kin- 
 ship. "When did he ever meet a relative without acknowledging the tie, 
 and without some effort to use it for good ? In his first letter, recalling 
 the fact that we were born in the same place, he drops into a familiar 
 chat about stones, mountains, and stars, alike fan)iliar to his childliood 
 and mine, and seeks to impress my infant mind with ideas of immor- 
 tality, and to inspire me to act, even in childhood, as becomes one with 
 great possibilities before him. The characteristics of this letter pervaded 
 all his intercourse with me. He attracted me, and I always cherished 
 the hours with him and their memory, whether we met amid the scenes 
 of youth, or by the way, amid the urgency of events of advancing manhood, 
 or at his home or at mine. My mother, long since sainted, early called 
 to leave her little flock, held him up as a most worthy example. We 
 never could forget him. Besides, he made himself among us one of our 
 most welcomed companions. 
 
 " Uncle's last letter to me begins, ' I snatch a moment to inform you of 
 this red-letter day. Lucien stopped off, and spent a few hours with us. 
 It was inspiring to have a viva voce account of the times that have gone 
 over the dear old spot.' And so, with the enthusiasm of youth, he refers 
 to the incidents recounted in their conversation that occui-red at the 
 Grange in his absence." . . . 
 
 From Charles E.\ton, Esq., Toledo, O. : — 
 
 " The inspiration we received from Uncle Horace can never be 
 repeated from his lips again. It can only be treasured up in our memo- 
 ries. His stories of his mother, of his boyhood, of his brothers and 
 sisters, were always feasts for the soul. His philosophy of life was ele- 
 vating, purifying, joy-giving. How we shall miss him at Kimball Ilill ! 
 His memory could put in their proper jilaces in the field, by the fireside, 
 on the ' muster-ground,' and in the church, all the actors in our ancestral 
 path, and restore our family drama with all its music, lights, sorrows, 
 and joys. He knew the gown and frock each actor wore; he knew 
 their cups and their food ; he could repeat their words, their speeches, 
 and their prayers. . . . Uncle Horace's crown was humility. He pur- 
 sued duty every day with diligence, vigor, and patience. He never lifted 
 up his eyes to see if others were looking at his achievements. Distinc- 
 tion and display were banners that he never carried. He was content to 
 give all the wealtli of his heart and all the jewels of his mind to his own 
 
LETTERS. 293 
 
 country parish. His pen was terse and strong, and when it touched 
 Nature, it was as beautiful as Nature itseK. In his private letters and 
 public discoiu'ses there are pictures as brilliant as an autumn leaf, as 
 fragrant as a Mayflower, and as musical as the brooks. Nature refreshed 
 him. He loved to climb all her hills and mountains. The birds were 
 his delight : the bobolink and the thrush were his joy. I can see liim 
 now as he would pause to listen to their melodies. He noticed the wild 
 flowers. There was a charm to him even in the dull blossom of the 
 elecampane. His love of kindred was an intense flame that never flick- 
 ered. No son who loves his mother as uncle loved his can ever wander 
 far in a bad path." • . . 
 
 From Rev. George H. Griffin, MiKord, Conn. : — 
 
 " I desire to lay my humble tribute on the bier of this beloved friend. 
 My earliest recollections of a minister are associated with him. ... I 
 remember the strong impression he made upon my boyish mind by the 
 deep earnestness and evident sincerity of his manner in the pulpit. His 
 love for the children was manifested by the time (on Saturday afternoons) 
 he gave to our catechism class ; coming in, I believe, at the close of the 
 hour to hear us repeat the answers, on which good old ^lother Dodge 
 (whose son, AVilliam E. Dodge, was superintendent of the Sunday-school) 
 had been drilling us. ... I think I can truly say that I owe it, as far as 
 pastoral influence was concerned (aiding and supplementing the home 
 training of pious parents), quite as much to this departed friend as to any 
 other that I am to-day serving God in the ministry of His Son." . . . 
 
 From Henry M. Baird, D.D., Professor in N.Y. University : — 
 
 "Nov. 9, 1883. 
 "... I have ever cherished, and shall ever cherish, the deepest regard 
 and affection for your husband, to whose faithful ministry in the days 
 of my boyhood I owe so much. I remember well his earnest, spiritual 
 preaching, full of stimulating truth, and having but one end, — that of 
 bringing souls unto Chi-ist. I myself received from it my first strong 
 convictions of sin and duty, and T shall ever bless God for having enjoyed 
 the privileges of so long sitting at his feet." . . . 
 
 From Kev. Dr. Theodore F. White, Sunnnit, N.J. : — 
 
 "... How much I loved him you know, or, rather, you do not know. 
 His death brings up afresh precious memories of past days. I remember 
 him as a theological student, as the young pastor of the Sixth-street 
 Church. I recall his visits at our home and consultations with my father. 
 T can never forget the seasons of spiritual blessing in that church, — least 
 of all that time when I was led to Jesus, and all my struggles, my dark- 
 
294 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 ness, and my light, and how faithful he was towai'd me. Oh, how many 
 things come up more and faster than I can write ! And then the separa- 
 tion, the long pastorate at Palmyra, the delightful meetings, though so 
 few and far between, and yet all along the feeling that he was to me the 
 dearest man in the Synod." . . . 
 
 From Kev. IIexry T. Perry, Sivas, Turkey: — 
 
 "... I can never forget the great kindness shown by your husband 
 to me when I was sent as a colporteur on the Erie Canal, in the vicinity 
 of your beautiful town. The work presented many obstacles, espe- 
 cially to one so inexperienced in Christian endeavor as I then was. 
 His cheerful question, 'Well, what have you gleaned to-day?' often 
 turned my discouragement into joy and hope. I have carefully pre- 
 served the copy of the sermon which he preached at my ordination at 
 North Adams, Mass., in December, 1805, and have often read it in remem- 
 brance of him. ' And fill up that which is behind of the sufferings of 
 Christ,' — not to add any thing to the meritorious work of the crucified 
 Redeemer, but to join Him in the spirit of self-denial for others, effectu- 
 ally to reach the wicked by sympathy, and glorify God by maldng known 
 to the world a suffering Saviour." 
 
 From Rev. E. Wilmot Cummixgs, Elba, N.Y. : — 
 
 "... ]\Ionday evening I was at Horace Deming's. "We did not then 
 know of Dr. Eaton's death, but were hoping he might recover. Horace 
 said he could never think of Dr. Eaton as an old man : he always seemed 
 young to him. It was so in my case. I often feared that I had been too 
 familiar ; but while with him he appeared as ' one of lis.' I could not 
 help it." 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 ****** 
 For truth and right lie stood, 
 
 Firm as his native liills, 
 Whose rock-ribbed grandeur well he loved. 
 
 As sj)ortive as their rills. 
 
 Intemperance and crime, 
 
 Twin source of lunnan woe, 
 Stirred his compassion and his ire, 
 
 His pity, and his blow. 
 
 Chosen of God was he, 
 
 And fitted for his place 
 Within tiie church ; a pillar strong. 
 
 Ornate with trutli and grace. 
 
PRESS NOTICES. 295 
 
 A living, polislied stone, 
 
 From out lier wall he cried, 
 Rejoicing in the gospel truth 
 
 That Christ the Lord has died. 
 
 C. B. BoTsroKD. 
 
 PRESS NOTICES. 
 
 From Rev. John Q. Adams, San Francisco, Cal., in the "New York 
 Evangelist " : — 
 
 " The sad news has just reached us that another of the honored stan- 
 dard-bearers in the Presbyterian Church has gone home. It hardly seems 
 possible that our Dr. Eaton has gone. But, like a shock of corn fully 
 ripe, he has been gathered in. Again earth seems poorer, and heaven 
 richer. 
 
 " It will doubtless be given to other hands to tell the story of his life 
 and work, — one of the most interesting of which we have ever known. 
 But, as one of the young men who knew and loved him well, I would add 
 a few words to the many that will be spoken. 
 
 " Dr. Eaton is associated with some of my earliest recollections. My 
 first visit made away from my father's house was in the family of which 
 he was the honored head, and often since has that home welcomed the 
 boy and man. What he was there, what he was in the church of God, 
 and in the families of his flock, God knoweth, but no man can tell. As 
 a husband and father, a j)astor and friend, woi'ds seem cold when applied 
 to him. 
 
 " Of only one characteristic would I speak now, one of the first and 
 most abiding his personal presence impressed upon me. He was an irule- 
 fatigahle worker for his Lord ami Saviour. Possessed of a strong consti- 
 tution, he did not know what it was to give up any woiHv set him to do 
 till it was finished. This was illustrated in his study all his life. He 
 was a scholar even to old age, devoting much time to his Greek and 
 Hebrew, while keeping abreast with current thought — and all that he 
 might be more efficient in his work for God. Dartmouth College, his 
 alma mater, honored herself as truly as she honored him, when at her 
 centennial in 1869 she made him a doctor of divinity. If the ministry 
 generally would show equal diligence in this direction, so far as strength 
 and means will allow, there would be fewer complaints that the young 
 men were crowding out the old, or that some one had crossed the 
 ' dead line.' . . . 
 
 " It ought not to be forgotten that he always was a kind, loving, sym- 
 
296 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 pathetic friend of young men. Many a young man in the ministry will 
 feel a personal loss when they know that he has fallen asleep. 
 
 " ' Servant of God, well done ! 
 Rest from thy loved employ ; 
 The battle fought, the victory won, 
 Enter thy Master's joy.' " 
 
 From " The Corning Democrat " : — 
 
 "Rev. Dr. Bacon closed his discourse last Sunday morning with an 
 extended tribute to the character and life of the late Dr. Eaton, for thirty 
 years pastor of the Presbyterian Church, Palmyra, N.Y. Dr. Eaton was 
 well known to many of our citizens, his intimate and pleasant relations 
 \vith the families of Hon. C. C. B. Walker and lion. S. T. Ilayt having 
 been the occasion of his frequent visits to our town. Now the joyful pur- 
 pose of his coming would be to pronounce a benediction upon a union of 
 hearts and hands, and now it would be to weep with those who wept, in 
 a solemn burial-service for their beloved dead. 
 
 '• We make the following extract from the sermon referred to above : — 
 
 "'. . . He was the personal friend of everyone of his people. The 
 old and the young, the rich and the poor, were all alike to him ; for the 
 facts of manhood, rather than the accidents of life, were the standard by 
 which he nieasured the value of a human soul. 
 
 " ' Dr. Eaton was a preacher who was always interesting ; for he had 
 the happy art of "putting things," always expressing his thoughts with 
 vigor and originality. And with the unfailing sympathy of his great, 
 loving heart, the helpfulness of his willing hands, and his hopefulness for 
 the best things in human nature, he was in every regard a model pastor. 
 His heart was always bubbling over with the practical expression of kind- 
 ness and good will. He was himself the best illustration of the princi- 
 ples which he preached, and the duties which he enjoined. 
 
 " ' He always took a deep interest in the young, and especially in young 
 men He has lielped many a young man to decide the question of his 
 life-work, when sound advice was the supreme need of the hour. It was 
 under his wise instruction and judicious counsel that T, when a young 
 man, was brought into the fellowship of the Christian Church. And 
 through sucji personal and prayerful interest as a father might take in 
 the welfare of his son, I was led to reconsider the question as to what pro- 
 fession I should choose ; and I have no doubt that I am your pastor 
 to-day, because Horace Eaton was my pastor some twenty-five years 
 
PRESS NOTICES. 297 
 
 From the "New York Evangelist," Nov. 15, 1883 : — 
 
 "On the twenty-first day of October, 1883, the Rev. Horace Eaton 
 D D died at his residence in Palmyra, N.Y. I had the pleasure m 18o7 
 and 1858 to know and love him well. Since that, I have met nm trom 
 time to time, and it has been ray privilege to continue the friendship then 
 beo-un What was true of the granite a quarter of a century ago is true ot 
 its%ssential qualities to-day. The solidity of Dr. Eaton's character was 
 such that once to know him was always to know him. Everybody who 
 knew him loved him with such sincere devotion that his praises have 
 come in volumes from loving and grateful hearts, and I find it difhcult to 
 know what is left for my pen. 
 
 "Dr Eaton had a remarkably rare combination of gifts and elements 
 of character. He was always intensely persistent in pursuit of any 
 obiect he decided to attempt. His early life, eloquently and affection- 
 ately described by others, conspicuously illustrates what pluck, will, 
 eneroy and the corn-age to surmount apparently insurmountable obstacles, 
 can do for the boy, laying broad and deep, and firm as granite the touiv 
 dations of the character of the man. It seemed as if difficulty ^^s to 
 him but 'the stimulus to exertion.' One of the chief supports of this 
 element of his character was the underlying fact that he never attempted 
 any thing unworthy of the purest ambition. In all this it is clear that 
 God had taken the poor young Horace to make him a prince and a noble 
 in the court of the King of kings, -the only King to whom his loyal 
 heart ever paid homage. When the Lord adopted him to become a rare 
 and valiant disciple, to illmuine every dark place where sorrow or suf- 
 ieL- led him, his soul became lighted as with e ectric lights, biungmg 
 out the brilliants of a nature all adorned with God-given 8-- of rai-es 
 histre. He came as near being a man with a < conscience void of offence 
 lusue. X Vnown To great talents and learning 
 
 as any human being I have e\er kno\^n. ^^ j, u^^ , ^^^ 
 
 as a theologian, and a classical and Mles-lettres scholar he united a mod- 
 esty so swe^t and so sincere, that nobody felt the ^^ ^a^^W -"• *^^ 
 consciousness that he was absorbing the affections o all about him 
 
 "His dailv life was the farthest remove from 'the pride that apes 
 humility.' lie was transparently guileless. He had large learning, but 
 on one subject great ignorance. He never learned -^^^ ^Hi h'pri 
 essential value. Chief of saints, he might at times have ±elt - th Pau 
 that he was chief of sinners. Being human, he must have had faults 
 but I never had the time or opportunity to find them. I do not use the 
 language of exaggeration: I know that what I say of him can only 
 be truiy said of tLse rare and precious gems Christ has prepared with 
 peculiar care to shine in His diadem. But the dear departed was in truth 
 one of these. Self-sacrificing, and enduring all hardships, he would go on 
 
298 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 foot in storm and in the rigors of cold, or the enervations of heat, to do 
 his Saviour's business in a way as noiseless and unseen as the process of 
 germination in the earth beneath, scattering smiles and blessings in 
 abodes which but for him and his Lord knew but little else than drear 
 darkness. In these lowly places the gems of his character sparkled with 
 seraphic splendor. Aleet him after such toil at the evening twilight, and 
 say, ' Brother Eaton, you look tired, you have had a hard day's woi'k,' 
 and his self-forgetfulness even then instinctively asserted itself. He 
 would probably answer, 'Brother, it is a great privilege to do even a 
 little, in a humble way, for the Lord.' Bless the dear man! Hunger, 
 cold, weariness, toilsome struggles, were all amply compensated and for- 
 gotten in intense absorption of his daily walks with God and for God. 
 There was no crevice anywhere about him for sham. 
 
 " As a preacher he was a godly power. A consistent and persistent 
 Presbyterian, he was not a bigot. His practical language was '■Homo 
 sum; humani nihil a me alienum puto' (I am a man, and nothing pertain- 
 ing to man is indifferent to me). I venture the assertion that no member 
 of any church, Roman Catholic or Protestant, ever found a chilled sym- 
 pathy from Dr. Eaton by reason of creed. His great heart could take a 
 fellow-being in its warm folds without stopping to ask or care whence he 
 came, so only that the heart's visitor needed a brother's welcome. As I 
 used to look out of my office, and see the dear, good man in his daily 
 walks, I felt that in his measure he Avent about doing good, as did the 
 * Son of man,' ' God manifest in the flesh.'' Such a character never dies. 
 It exhales that subtle, intangible, unseen but potential power we call 
 influence. . . . Thankful for the lesson of his life, I reverence his memory 
 as a priceless treasui-e. J. D. Husbaxds. 
 
 " Rochester, X.Y., Oct. 30, 1883." 
 
 From Rev. S. M. Campbell, D.D., Minneapolis, Minn., in " New York 
 Evangelist " : — 
 
 " In my last ' Evangelist ' I read with deep interest the elegant tribute 
 of Hon. J. D. Husbands to the memory of Dr. Eaton of Palmyra, N.Y. 
 "What impresses me in regard to all these men is their goodness. I do 
 not mean goodishness. These were all manly men ; but they were pre- 
 eminently kind and loving men. And Dr. Eaton was one of the best in 
 both particulars. No man had stronger convictions than he. No man 
 was ever truer to such convictions, or more ready to avow them. But he 
 had the gift to do all that without making enemies. What a tribute that 
 was to his worth when the Roman Catholic priest of the village where he 
 died told liis people that a good man had fallen, and that they would all 
 do well to show him their respect by attending his funeral ! . . . Dr. 
 
RESOLUTIONS. 299 
 
 Manning of the Old South Church of Boston was nearly sixty years old 
 when he died. Knox, Weed, Hatfield, McColl, and Eaton were consid- 
 erably older. They all lived to full age ; and this world is the poorer, 
 and the better world is the brighter, that they have passed away." 
 
 RESOLUTIONS. 
 
 At a meeting of the session of the Western Presbyterian Church of 
 Palmyra, N.Y., held Nov. 5, 1883, the following minute was adopted, and 
 ordex'ed to be recorded : — 
 
 " Whereas it has pleased the Supreme Disposer of events to call from 
 the scenes of his earthly labors the Rev. Horace Eaton, D.D., who was for 
 thirty years the pastor of this church, while we bow with resignation 
 to the will of Him who doeth all things well, we find it not merely a duty, 
 but a privilege, to record our sense of bereavement in the loss of him who 
 had so long and so nobly filled the place of spiritual guide to this people ; 
 a loss, great, in that we lose his eminently valuable counsel in the affairs 
 of the clnirch, of the community, and of ourselves ; great, in that we lose 
 his efficient help in all the great moral movements of the present time ; 
 great, in that we lose his example, so pm-e, so peaceful, so lovely, so full 
 of all the Christian graces ; great, in that we lose the further products of 
 such scholarly acquirements ; great, in that we lose the further products 
 of such mental powers; great, in that we lose the prayers of one who 
 prayed for this church and people without ceasing. 
 
 " We would record our gratitude to our heavenly Father that he has 
 so long permitted us — and the wide community who joined with us at 
 the funeral in testifying to their affection for this ' father in Israel ' — to 
 enjoy the example, the teachings, and the prayers of him whose death we 
 now mourn. We are also grateful that we are shown in this noble life 
 and this triumphant death that to be a faithful follower of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ makes one more truly great, and more honored among men, 
 than any mere worldly life. We are also grateful that in this life and 
 death we have another evidence of the truth of the scriptural declaration, 
 ' He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he that ruleth his 
 spirit greater than he that taketh a city,' and of the faithfulness of the 
 promise, ' If a man love me, he will keep my words ; and my Father will 
 love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him.' 
 
 " Wakrex H. Laxdon, il/of/er«/or." 
 
300 REV. IIOUACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 A Testimonial of Love and Ttcspect for the late Rev. Horace Eaton, D.D., 
 
 and of Sympathy with his Family : — 
 
 We the undersigned, members and guests of the Palmyra Steamer 
 and Hose Companies, assembled in a social gathering, which was ap- 
 pointed long before the illness and decease of our beloved friend, the 
 Rev. Horace Eaton, D.D., feel forcibly that his death is every one's loss; 
 and remembering with gi-eat gratitude the comforting ministrations he 
 has brought to so many of our families in times of similar sorrow, we 
 wish to send to his family now our Jieartfelt sympathy, and make known 
 to them that, with all our conniiunity, we share in their grief. 
 
 AVe also desire to bear our testimony to his purity of life, and beauty 
 of character. In him we saw the ideal Christian man and pastor, — one 
 without a moral blemish. Unselfish to a fault, his heart constantly over- 
 flowed with benevolent love for all mankind. To his neighbors and 
 fellow-creatures of all degree he was the familiar, sympathizing friend, 
 the wise, painstaking, faithful counselor, and in conduct the noble 
 exemplar. Xone could know liini without being made better thereby. 
 Beneficent in life, blessed shall be his memory. 
 
 Dated, Firemen's Hall, Palmyra, N.Y., Oct. 23, 1883. 
 
 Officers. 
 George H. Craxdall, President. W. A. Powers, Ass't Foreman. 
 
 Edward D. Brkmiam, Vice-President. A. P. Seeley, Foreman Hose. 
 H. E. Negus, Treasurer. George Barron, Ass't Foreman. 
 
 A. D. La.msox, Secretary. J. C. Coaxes, Drill Master. 
 
 E. B. Anderson, Foreman Steamer. 
 
 Memueus. 
 
 T. W. Ilicks. A. M. Beadle. Euijcnc Conant. R. T. Webster. 
 
 F. L. Williams. E. W. Tappenden. G. L). Williamson. N. R. Gardner. 
 Kelson G. Drake. J. E. Scofield. E. J. Hall. G. W. Bennett. 
 C. W. Powers. H. N. Harmon. Charles Lyon. AV. B. Pulver. 
 A. T. Foskett. D. E. Lyon. ■ E. S. Lewis. Isaac Sanford. 
 
 W. H. Bowman, 2d. George L. Clark. LaRue Olvitt. George G. Throop. 
 
 Frank 11. Brown. F. S. Herbert. John Griffin. 
 
 Honorary Members and Guests. 
 
 Pliny T. Sexton. E. S. Averill. L. D. Trowbridge. Wright Gardner. 
 
 Johii G. Webster. F. C. Brown. Selnier E. Braman.W. E. Clark. 
 
 George MeCiown. Henry R. Durfce. Mark C. Finlcy. J. Edgar, Jr. 
 
 W. H. IJunip. S. W. Sawyer. Oliver Durfee. Gifford II. Post. 
 
 C. B. Bowman. S. E. Harkness. Hiram G. Chirk. Don Lncava. 
 
 Lyman Lyon. R. L. Leland. W. 11. H. Osborne. F. T. Jones. 
 
 C. D. Johnson. C. H. Brighain. Henry A. Chase. John Copin. 
 
 J. W. Taylor. C. E. Major. i. C. G. Crandell. S. Nelson Sawyer. 
 
RESOL UTIONS. 301 
 
 Palmyra Lodge of Good Templars. — In Memoriam : — 
 
 "Through the interposition of Divine Providence the shadows have 
 fallen ; once moi-e the cup of enjoyment is made to overflow witli the 
 bitter waters of Marah ; once more death has invaded our circle, and 
 removed from our midst our well-beloved brother, ay ! our father, — 
 Rev. Horace Eaton. In the evening of life, in the abundance of useful- 
 ness, he has been called to lay aside his armor, and rest from his labors. 
 One of the charter members of our Order, associated with us for sixteen 
 years in mutual friendship, attending meetings when pastoral duties and 
 health permitted, we as a Lodge desire to express our respect for his 
 memory, and record our ajjpreciation of his merits, consistent and exem- 
 plary life. Underlying his unassuming deportment was a firm conviction 
 of duty which characterized his whole being. In devotion to the interests 
 of religion and the cause of humanity he has left an imperishable monu- 
 ment in the hearts of all who knew him : therefore 
 
 ^^ Resolved, That as an Order we realize the loss in the death of our 
 brother of an effective co-worker in the cause of temperance, ever ready 
 with assistance and sympathy. 
 
 "Resolved, That we sincerely sympathize with the family and friends 
 of our deceased brother, earnestly recommending them to Him who 
 knoweth all their sorrow. 
 
 "Resolved, That as a tribute of resjiect our Charter be draped in 
 mourning, and the above resolutions be spread upon the record of our 
 Lodge, and a copy presented to the family of our deceased brother." 
 
 Action of the Presbytery of Lyons : — 
 
 The committee appointed to prepare a minute on the death of Dr. 
 Eaton reported the following, which w-as adopted : — 
 
 " A Memohial Minute. 
 
 "Rev. Horace Eaton, D.D., the senior member of this Presbytery, died 
 at his home in Palmyra, after a brief illness, Oct. 21, 1883. lie had been 
 a member of this body from its organization in 1857, and had been its 
 ]\Ioderator several times. Since the re-union in 1869 he had served the 
 Presbytery efficiently as its Committee on Home JNIissions. He repre- 
 sented the body as Commissioner to General Assembly in 1861, 1870, and 
 1880, and held the position of Commissioner to Auburn Theological Semi- 
 nary three full terms, having been elected for the fourth term at its last 
 meeting. 
 
 " Dr. Eaton had long been venerated as one of the fathers of this 
 Presbytery and of the younger men in its niembersliip; and many remain 
 
302 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 to testify tliat ho ^vas a remarkable counsellor, — cautious, considerate, 
 ■wise, and kind. 
 
 " He was universally known among us as the friend of the feeble 
 churches, and carried them always in his heart and prayers and sympa- 
 thies. As a preacher he was affectionate, earnest, and direct. lie made 
 Christ, the Saviour of men, the centre of his theology and of his sermons, 
 as well as of his life. 
 
 " lie had a great heart, Avhich took in all the world, giving the home 
 and foreign interests of Christ's kingdom an abiding-place in his warm 
 and consecrated ministry. 
 
 "In all his relations to this Presbytery he was venerated and loved; 
 and now, that in the fulness of time he has been called to his reward, his 
 labor done, we make this record of his worth and the love we bear to his 
 honored memory. 
 
 A. Pai;ki: Burgess, '^ 
 W. II. Laxdon, I 
 
 William L. Page, f ^'"'»»"''^^- 
 
 William K. Johnson, J 
 
 " Done in Presbytery at Newark, N.Y., Dec. 3, 188;?. 
 
 " II. M. Clark, ^'Za^e(/ CYer^-. William II. Bates, J/or/era/or." 
 
 Chi Alpha ^Memorial Tribute, New York City, Oct. 27, 1883: — 
 
 " Foi'ty years ago this circle welcomed to its confidence and fellowship 
 a brother beloved, who has just entered into rest. . . . 
 
 " His struggles for self-support while getting an education gave 
 muscle to his character and enlargement to his usefulness in all his 
 after-life. He was naturally modest and unassuming, conceding to 
 his brethren the highest places and honors ; but, where a fundamental 
 doctrine or pi-inciple was at stake, lie was bold as a lion, and firm as 
 his own native granite. The cordial manner with which he received 
 the young pastor who became his successor in Palmyra, together with 
 the constant fatherly sujiport and encouragement he gave him, are 
 worthy of all praise. In his s^iirit there was no guile : frank, sincere, 
 and honest as the little child. His Christian sympathies were always 
 fresh as a mountain spring: hence liis presence was more than wel- 
 comed at the bedside of the sick and dying, and at the burial of the 
 dead. He was noted for what the old divines called spiritual-minded- 
 ness. God and His law. His word. His worship, and His service were 
 always first in his affections. To honor Him, to live and preach His gos- 
 pel, and save the souls Christ died to redeem, was his highest ambition 
 anil aim. Zealous and generous himself in his blaster's work, he longed 
 
MURAL TABLET. 303 
 
 and labore;! to make others like-minded. Nor did he labor in vain. His 
 was a successful ministry. Both the dead and the living speak of the 
 good he did them and through them. The churches and communities he 
 served so long and so well will long hold him in grateful and affectionate 
 remembrance. And now, as we gather up these memories of our con- 
 fiding, loving, and beloved brother, we feel some as Elisha did when, 
 gathering up Elijah's mantle, and looking after him into heaven, he 
 cried, 'My father, my father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen 
 thereof ! ' 
 
 '• The Cln-istian sympathy and heartfelt condolence of Chi Alpha are 
 tendered Mrs. Eaton and her family. 
 
 " E. A. Reed, Secretary of X A." 
 
 MURAL TABLET. 
 
 From the " New York Evangelist " : — 
 
 " Paljiyra. — On Sabbath morning, Oct. 19, 1884, we held a very 
 interesting and impressive service. It was the first anniversary of the 
 death of the Rev. Dr. Eaton, who was the well-known pastor of this 
 church from 1849 to 1879. The Young People's Society of Christian 
 Endeavor had just erected in the church, to his memory, a beautiful memo- 
 rial tablet. The Methodists and Baptists, of their own accord, came in 
 to participate in this service, making a congregation of nearly a thousand 
 people. The original company of Jubilee Singers from Fisk University, 
 who have been spending some weeks among us, practising and preparing 
 for their winter's work, furnished the music. It is contrary to their cus- 
 tom to sing in the churches on the Sabbath ; but they consented on this 
 occasion on account of Dr. Eaton's lifelong interest in their race. They 
 sang with wonderful pathos three selections from Gospel Hymns, ' It is 
 well with my soul,' ' Gathering Home,' and 'The Sweet By-and-by.' The 
 exercises commenced, as usual, with Scripture and prayer. A short 
 address was made by Mr. George S. Johnson, one of the young men, the 
 youngest elder in the church. It was able, touching, and impressive, and 
 ought not soon to be forgotten by the many young people who were pres- 
 ent. At the close of his address, the tablet was unveiled, and in behaK 
 of the young people he formally presented it to the church. It is of 
 beautiful Italian marble, and bears this inscription: — 
 
304 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 REV. 
 V\OU^CE EATON, oq 
 
 OUR PASTOR. 
 
 1849 1879. 
 
 DIED 
 OCT, 21, 1883. 
 
 BLESSED ARE THE DEAD THAT DIE IN 
 THE LORD FROM HENCEFORTH : YEA, 
 SAITH THE SPIRIT, THAT THEY MAY 
 REST FROM THEIR LABORS ; AND 
 THEIR WORKS DO FOLLOW THEM. 
 
 Rev. xiv. 13 
 
 " Short responsive addresses in behalf of the church and congregation 
 were made by Henry R. Durfee, Esq., and Elder Franklin Williams. 
 Their interesting and appropriate remarks made a deep impression upon 
 the congregation. After a few words by the pastor, Deacon M. B. Rigga 
 offered prayer, and the service was brought to a close. It is touching and 
 encouraging to see the interest all this community take in any thing con- 
 nected with the history of this honored but humble man of God. 
 
 "W. H. Laxdon." 
 
 On the day previous to this Sabbath, loving hands covered Dr. Eaton's 
 grave with beautiful flowers ; and during the memorial service at the 
 church on the Sabbath the pastor read the following anniversary elegy, 
 written by Rev. W. W. Runyan : — 
 
 "BESIDE HIS GRAVE." For Oct. 24, 1884. 
 Rev. Horace Eaton, D.D. Died Oct. 21, 1883. 
 
 Time's twelvemonth retinue, in solemn train, 
 (How like a cortege on its graveyard way !) 
 
 Hath borne the sear October round again, 
 With thronging memories of its saddest day. 
 
 Here paused the cortege. Here the mortal form 
 
 By tender liands was lowly laid to rest, 
 Where nevermore Time's rude, relentless storm 
 
 May smite the brow, or chill the guileless breast. 
 
ANNIVERSARY ELEGY. 305 
 
 All, how beloved was he, and how revered ! 
 
 How he did knit our liearts to him in love' 
 Is he less honored now, or less endeared ? 
 
 Is he less worthy since he lives above ? 
 
 A year of sainthood where the seraphs sing • 
 
 No idle year of slumber in a tomb. 
 Full free from world to world his flight to wing, 
 
 How could he choose to bide the charnel gloom ? 
 
 Methinks I see him in his angel youth. 
 
 Where Time is not, and bells do ne^er knoll, 
 New forms of beauty and new lines of truth 
 
 Fresh sculptured on his pure and stainless soul. 
 
 As shepherds kind, in deserts bleak and cold. 
 
 Call long and loudlv to the sheep that roam, 
 So did this pastor watcn his ilouk and fold, 
 
 And woo the wanderer to his distant home. 
 
 Once, 'mid these hills, these vales, and verdant glades, 
 
 He faithful toiled the weary years along ; 
 But requiems now breathe through the whispering shades, 
 
 From nodding reeds and insects' vesper-song. 
 
 While rustling foliage and the ripened grass, 
 
 With billowy tributes pile his bed of clay, 
 His feet, enfranchised, tread the Sea of Glass ; 
 
 His eyes, anointed, drink the perfect day. 
 
 We call him dead. We deck the sod with flowers, 
 And dewy Night o'erweeps them, for they die ; 
 
 But he would chide this halting faith of ours : 
 He lives in memory, and he lives on high. 
 
 O sainted pastor, from thy realm serene 
 
 Dost thou not hover o'er the flock beneath ? 
 Dost thou not bend above this pious scene, 
 
 And yearn to tell us that there is no death ? 
 
 So sang a poet once, "There is no death "; 
 
 And such sweet song might soothe a mourner's cry; 
 For One diviner than the poet saith, 
 
 " Believe in me, and ye shall never die ! " 
 
306 REV. HORACE EATON, D.D. 
 
 'lis well wo ponder near liis narrow house. 
 That earth's careers all gravitate to dust. 
 
 But better far that we renew our vows 
 To live, like his, a life of holy trust. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 PRESSWORK BY BERWICK i. SMITH, BOSTON.