% '.^-"m^- V ^^ V A-- " .N^^ - <» NX, • N v^^ 0^ .^^% °. t.-o'^ ^0^ ^ .^P' .*^ '-^-0^ V^ o V •n^o^ 0.*^ -' V '- • * o « o V, .^* 4 O :^^ . v^ .p -3 i^ri. ' ■ '^'X O' >;: y-S - 1 ....... j^ <^ o o ■^ o \V ')' ^-^ ' • . 5 , . ■^-0^ -^^.^x '■■ :li^^ -^ '^0 >*^^x. ^-:p. .Ovv ' .0' •p s -> '^^ 2ri)e blessed memotB of tlje just. A DISCOURSE OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF JAREDSPARKS, LL.D DELIVERED MARCH 18, 1866, BEFORE THE FIRST PARISH IN CAMBRIDGE, WILLIAM NEWELL, MINISTEK OF THE FIRST CHURCH IN CAMBRIDGE. CAMBRIDGE: SEVER AND FRANCIS, BOOKSELLERS TO THE UNIVERSITY. 1866. .5 University Press : Welch, Bigelow, & Co., Cambridge. SERMON. "The memory of the just is blessed." — Proverbs x. 7. One of the most precious of God's gifts is the society of affectionate and virtuous friends. To live under the same roof, to share the same duties and pleasures, with those whom we can love with all the heart, — to feel the gentle influence of their virtues, shining around them with a mild, perpetual light, — to breathe the atmosphere of their lives, to enjoy the sweetness of their daily sympathy and support, — to be able to go for counsel and wisdom, for cour- age and patience, to minds into which we can pour out our hopes, fears, and doubts with entire freedom and trust, — to double and prolong our enjoyments by communicating them to others, to whom we are bound, not only by ties of kindred, but by the holier and stronger bonds of affection and respect, — to allay our anxieties and griefs by the thought that they are at our side, that they feel for us and with us, and that, whatever may betide, their counte- nances will beam benignantly on our way, — to have our good purposes quickened, our good principles invigorated, and the whole inner being softened and purified by intimate communion with the living ex- amples of Christian goodness and piety, — who can fully estimate these blessings ? A world, were it ours, would cheaply purchase, if a world could buy, the tender and thoughtful affection, the kind attentions, the cordial aid, the disinterested advice, the wise and pleasant conversation, of the dear companion, par- ent, kinsman, friend, the honored and the loved, in those favored families where the lives of the right- eous are still spared to gladden and to bless the lofty or the lowly dwelling in which the providence of God has placed them. But those lives are held by an uncertain tenure. Over them, as over all, hangs the suspended sword. Over them, as over all, is written the inexorable, yet hiddenly beneficent law. Believing, as we do, in a Father God, believing that he has mad6 the universe in perfect wisdom, and that all the parts of His administration, and all the events of our existence are in unison with the Infi- nite Benevolence that constitutes the essential glory of His nature, we feel that there are wise and kind purposes to be answered by death, which death only can accomplish. Sometimes it is attended with mysteries of pain, suffering, and apparently irrepara- ble loss to the survivors, both in temporal and spir- itual good, which we must wait for the revelations of another life to explain. But these exceptional cases must not shake our faith in truths written on the universe, and proclaimed to us by the messengers of the Most High. As Christians, we believe that all the events of our being are ordered and overruled by divine wisdom and love ; as Christians, we believe that death to the good is the greatest of blessings, — the portal of Heaven, the change which brings them into near and blissful communion with Christ and with God. A more living life is theirs in the spirit world ; nor is their life on eartl^ wholly ended when they cease to breathe. Their memory still dwells with a beneficent power in the places which they once gladdened with their presence, and in the minds with which they once took sweet counsel in the hal- lowed connections of a happy and religious home. Thus they continue to guide and to bless us, long after their mortal forms have been buried in the dust. They live in the hearts of their kindred. They rise again in the hour of musing to the eyes of mourning affection. They speak to us in accents unheard by the world, but known and felt as theirs in the silent depths of the soul. The memory of the just, of the wise, of the truly good, of the truly great, of the servants of Christ and the benefactors of men, has its place among the blessed influences by which the Spirit of God lifts us to a higher plane of feeling and action, and gives a quickening strength to our sometimes dim faith in the realities of the life to come. It rebukes the sad scepticism that hangs over the tomb, and sees only the pale corpse, the shell of the flown spirit, but cannot see the glory and the beauty beyond. When the stunning blow that separates us from the objects of our affection first falls upon us, when that countenance which has long brightened our way is stamped with the stillness of death, it is hard to re- alize that the soul which once beamed through the eye, and spoke from the lips, is still living and con- scious and happy, though the light of that eye is quenched, and the accents of those lips hushed for- ever. But as we look back from a distance of time, and view the pageantry and circumstances of death in their true light, we are able to discern more clear- ly the sublime truth, over which they have thrown a momentary cloud. Then the bright image of the departed rises up before us, and we hear a voice, saying, as Christ to the doubting disciple, " Be not faithless, but. believing." Has it perished forever, that noble mind, stamped with God's image, trained for God's service ? Are those kind and tender af- fections, that diffused comfort and joy around them, those "thoughts that wander through eternity," those angelic aspirations and hopes that ally man to his Maker, those high capacities that on earth are but half developed, half satisfied, — are all extin- guished forever, buried in the dust ? Is there no other sphere in which they may yet live and grow ? " We cannot believe it. Our reason and our afFectionSj the whispers of hope and the instinctive cravings of our nature, re-echo the good tidings of the Gospel, and both welcome and confirm its message of the soul's immortal life. And never do we feel so pow- erfully the assurance of this truth, as when we recall the remembrance of the gifted and the good, taken from us in the ripening promise of youth, in the more extended usefulness of manhood, or in the venerable wisdom and mellowed virtues of declining age.* The memory of the dead not only quickens our faith in the future world, but it leads our thoughts and our affections heavenward. Our hearts over- leap the chasm that divides us from the world of spirits, and go in quest of their missing objects. We cannot forget them, even amidst all the crowding cares and dizzy excitements of the most busy life, — nor have we any reason to suppose that they will forget us. When we think of them, therefore, we see them waiting for us, as it were, watching anx- iously over our steps, praying for our welfare, invit- * I cannot help adding here the coincident expression, at a meeting of the Massachusetts Historical Society, commemorative of Mr. Sparks, by his friend, Professor Parsons, of the same thought, which " pressed upon me," he says, " during the days and evenings when I sat by the bedside where he was dying. There lay a man who had been gifted with excel- lent qualities, and these, during a long and busy life, were disciplined, cultivated, invigorated to the last of that life. Can a rational man be- lieve that all this long progress was towards — nothingness. His wisdom and his goodness were the means of usefulness and of happiness to him- self and to others. Through all those many years they grew and accu- mulated. Is it rational to believe that all this growth and accumulation were only for their own extinction ? I refer not now to religious faith. I appeal only to reasonableness and probability. His unusually long life was far more than commonly useful and happy. But it was also, if judged by any test we can apply, a constant preparation for more useful- ness and more happiness. What is there in the universe, or in its facts, or in its laws, which justifies the belief that all this long continued and ever advancing preparation was for — no end ? — I am sure, and I have reason to be sure that my dear friend would not himself have thought so. And I believe he would regard it as the crowning usefulness of his long and useful life, if the thought of him should suggest to any mind, or con- firm in any mind, the great truth, that Death is but a step forward in life." 8 ing us to the path which leads upward to their own, and urging us to perseverance in well-doing. Heav- en itself becomes more attractive, when we thus associate with its pleasures and its scenes of duty the images of those whom we have ali'eady loved upon earth. Then. too. the memory of the virtuous dead is blessed in the moi^al influence which it exerts over the heart and the life, quickening and strengthen- ing all that is good. And this it does not only b}'^ remindinor us of the uncertainties of life, bv showinsr us its true value and its noblest ends, and by pro- ducing a religious seriousness of feeling, but by keeping before us bright examples of high excel- lence ; and examples, too, to which personal affec- tion adds a quickening power. The life even of a good man whom we never saw wins us to the love and the following of the virtues that were beauti- fully manifested in Ms character, — how much more the pure lives of those whom we have ourselves known, and with whom we have had daily and sweet communion, and whose presence has been as sun- hght to our path I As we call back their departed forms, we see them in a more radiant aspect, — their goodness clothed with a heavenly lustre, and their infiiTuities disappearing in the distance, in that ten- der light which death throws over the venerated and the loved. We cannot think of them without being made better. Yes. the memory of the just is indeed blessed. Though for a time it may awaken a painful sorrow. not to be entirely subdued even by the power of religious faith, it will at length become, what it is designed to be, a means of spiritual improvement, a source of consolation, and a strengthener of Christian faith and hope; it will turn our affec- tions towards God and Heaven ; it will inspire us with holy purposes ; it will check the spirit of worldliness, and keep before us the higher ends of our existence ; it will tend to create or to quicken in our own souls the virtues that have made both our loss and our consolations so- great ; it will give fresh life to the hope of immortality, and prepare us for the unseen world, of which it so loudly speaks. So may it be, fellow-Christians, with the memory of every follower of the Lord, whose goodness, un- known perhaps to the world, and now forgotten by fame, still dwells shrined in the secret recesses of the fond kinsman's heart. So shall it be with the memory of that true disciple of Jesus, who, his earthly Sabbaths being ended, is now rejoicing in the rest and glory of Heaven. Ever blessed to his family and friends (and no enemy in the wide world had he, none knew him but to love him) will be the memory of that ex- cellent and eminent man, our fellow-worshipper for many years, who has just passed on into the spirit- world. Death has set his sanctifying seal on his character and his work, and neither will be soon forgotten. The remembrance of his life's labors is bound up with the history of our Washington and the history of the country of which we fondly call 10 Washington the Father, — now twice saved, with the promise that the bright dawn will be followed by a yet brighter noon, shining more and more unto the perfect day. The name of Jared. Sparks stands among the well-known and honored names that adorn our American literature and have acquired a European fame. No more devoted pioneer and explorer, none so full-sheaved a worker in his special department of the field of letters, can be found among the liv- ing or the dead of our .country. And to none do we owe so much as to him for the assiduous care and industry, the sound judgment, and the wise discrimination with which he has collected materials for a full understanding of the men and the times to which his inquiries were directed. He was born in Willington, Conn., May 10, 1789. Like so many of our most distinguished men, he had to contend with straitened circumstances in early life, and under the discipline of privation and diffi- culty won strength for a richer success. His boy- hood and youth were employed in the common work of a farm and in mechanical labor. But he had an intense thirst for learning, and gave all his spare time to reading and study. The scanty in- struction of the district schools in his native town served only to a\faken, not to satisfy, his mental cravings, and he seized every opportunity of intel- lectual culture.'" His uncommon attainments and * It is said that he shingled the roof of a minister's house in Willington, in return for instruction in Latin. 11 ardent desire of knowledge attracted the attention of the neighborhood, and by the kindness of friends, who became interested in him and saw his youth- ful promise, he was sent to the Academy in Exeter, N. H., making his way thither on foot, the Rev. Abiel Abbott, of Coventry, carrying his trunk for him swung under his chaise. Diligently using his new opportunities, he was in due time prepared for College, and entered Harvard University in 1811, under President Kirkland, of whom he was a special favorite, and for whom he always entertained the highest reverence and the most grateful and aftec- tionate reg-ard. Thouo;h he was on the whole of a strong constitution, active and vigorous in his hab- its, and capable of great physical exertion, he seems to have been subject to occasional turns of sickness, and to moods of depression. In consequence partly of ill health, partly of his poverty, he was but a little more than two whole years in college, and that, with this disadvantage, he should have graduated as he did, was a proof of his great ability, as well as of the confidence and respect in which he was held by the officers of the College. In his Sophomore year he was teacher in a private family at Havre de Grace, in Maryland ; was there when the town was burnt by the British troops under Admiral Cockburn in May, 1813, and was called out with the militia for the defence of the place.* At the close of his en- * Soon after his arrival at Havre de Grace, while he was staying at the public house in that place, in a dejected state of mind, occasioned by some disappointment of his expectations and the loneliness of his sit- 12 gagement as a teacher he returned to Cambridge, and graduated with honor in 1815. The two fol- lowing years were spent in teaching a private school at Lancaster in this State.* nation, among people of a quite different spirit and training from his own, two gentlemen, travellers on their way to Washington, came to the inn. A beautiful island in the Susquehanna attracted their atten- tion, and one of them procured a boat, and invited Mr. Sparks, whom they had met on the piazza, a stranger to them both, to accompany him to the place. After a delightful excursion, and a walk around the island intensely enjoyed by Mr. Sparks in the pleasant society and conversa- tion of the new-comer, who treated him with double cordiality on finding that the young man was a student of Harvard, as he was himself a grad- uate of the College, the Hon. Josiah Quincy, then Representative in Congress, as the stranger proved to be, returned to the inn, and intro-^ duced Mr. Sparks to his companion, the Rev. Dr. Channing. The inter- view gave the forlorn and struggling student new life and spirit. Dr. Channing, who had himself had a similar experience in teaching in Vir- ginia, refreshed and strengthened him by words of sympathy, counsel, and good cheer. And his new friends were his warm friends ever after. — The imagination dwells with interest on the picture of this first meet- ing of his, at the Southern inn on the road to Baltimore and Washington, with those two distinguished men, little dreaming of the after events which were to connect them so intimately with the youthful scholar, the one as the famous preacher of his ordination sermon, the other as his predecessor in the Presidency of Harvard University, as well as his neighbor and associate for many years in Cambridge, where Mr. Sparks lived and died in the street called by the name of his honored friend. * He cultivated in this preparatory sphere of service the habits of steady and methodical industry which distinguished him through life. Soon after commencing his school, he writes : " I board at Major Carter's, a mile and a quarter from my school, to and from which I walk twice a day. I rose this morning an hour before suni'ise, and rode five or six miles before breakfast, — an exercise which I shall continue regularly. My school occupies six hours ; and I have resolved to devote, and thus far have devoted, six hours out of the twenty-four to study." And be- fore this he has a memorandum of his walking from Cambridge to Bolton, twenty-six miles, setting out at half past one P. M., and arriving at Bolton at eight in the evening. 13 In 1817 he was chosen Tutor in Mathematics and Natural Philosophy in Harvard University. Here he soon after commenced the study of divinity. He was at the same time one of an association for con- ducting the North American Review, which had been started two years before. In 1819 he was ordained as Pastor of the First Independent Church in Balti- more. It was on this occasion that Dr. Channing preached the powerful and famous sermon that cre- ated so much interest and excitement at the time, and gave a fresh impulse to the Unitarian contro- versy, ending, as you know, in the disruption, as in Cambridge, of many churches, and the drawing of the lines of sectarian distinction more sharply be- tween the Orthodox, so called, and the Liberal Churches of this country. He remained four years at Baltimore, performing, in addition to the common labors of his profession, in an arduous and important position, a large amount of theological and literary labor, in the editorship of the Unitarian Miscellany, and in controversial publications, called forth by the necessity of maintaining and defending the religious views which he had espoused. It was during his ministry at Baltimore, in 1821, that he was elected Chaplain to Congress ; a tribute to his rising worth which, on account of his Unita- rian faith, excited the ire and alarm of the zealots of the time. The clergyman of an Episcopal church in Washington, on the Sunday following the elec- tion, said to his congregation : " By a recent vote of a majority of one branch of our National Legislature, 14 they have proclaimed to the worlc". in language as loud as thev can speak, that 'thev will not have Christ to rule over them.' One of the members in the minority, after the vote was taken, with deep regret observed, ' "We have voted Christ out of the house.' In looking to the future, what have we not reason to apprehend, when the rulers take counsel together against the Lord and against his anointed?" In the year following his ordination, he published a volume entitled '' Letters on the Ministry, Ritual, and Doctrine of the Protestant Episcopal Church";* and in 1823, "An Inquiry' into the Comparative Moral Tendency of Trinitarian and Unitarian Doc- trines.'' In 1822, he planned and commenced the publication of " A Collection of Essays and Tracts in Theology,*' from various authors, such as Newton, * In an able re%-iew of this work, in the Christian Examiner for July, 1820, the writer says: •• The work of Mr. Sparks is the best which has appeared, since the time of Chaimcy, on the Episcopal controversy. He had the advantage over Dr. ^liUer in not writing in Presbyterian fett«rs, and in possessing a learning possibly not so various, (for he is a much younger msm.) but far better digested, more systematic and accurate. The cause of letters owes much to this gentleman, and. if it had not sur- rendered him to higher claims, would yet hope much more. In his removal, the University resigned a member on whose reputation and services it set a high value, and it was felt like the loss of a distinguished freeman to the literary republic of the East Under his direction the North American Review made great progress towards that reputation which has enabled it at last (iu conjunction with other publications to the same end) to lower the tone of our Transatlantic traducers, and to give itself no mean proof of the intellectual advances which it vindicates. From this flattering path to a wide reputation, and from the pursuit of favorite studies, he hesitated not to withdraw himself to the ser^-ice of re- ligion, and went, with, to say the least, no elating prospects, to preach in a new field the doctrines of uncorrupt Christianity." 15 Whitby, Emlyn, Clark, Lardner, Chillingworth, and others, eminent for their talents, learning, and vir- tues, with biographical and critical notices. This extended to six volumes, the last of which was pub- lished in 1826. In 1823, after four years of work in the ministry, on account of impaired health and for various reasons satisfactory to himself, he re- signed his pastoral charge. In his letter of resigna- tion he says : " The religious views by which you are characterized, I believe to be the truths of Heaven, as revealed and proclaimed to the world by the Son of God. To me they aftbrd the choice'st solace in life, and to my mind they are fraught with the most consoling and encouraging hopes which a mortal can carry with him to the presence of his righteous Judge ; and my prayer is, that I may never be weary in using such powers and influence as I may possess to difiuse religious sentiments, which I deem so honorable to God, and so salutary to men." The feeling which he thus expressed never faltered or changed. Among the new scenes and pursuits on which he afterwards entered, he ever maintained his warm interest in the advancement of the doctrines of the Unitarian faith. Always mild, candid, and tolerant, he was yet most earnest in his desire and effort to spread the views which he deemed most " honorable to God, and salutary to men." After his retireitient from the ministry and his return to Massachusetts, he was for seven years pro- prietor and editor of the North American Review 16 In 1828 he published, from original materials, an interesting life of "John Ledyard, the American Traveller." Some years before this, in the course of inquiries undertaken for a friend connected with the University Press, he had conceived the plan of preparing a full and authentic life of Washington, and of collecting from all sources, at home and abroad, the correspondence of that great man, and the official and private documents that might throw light on his public career and the history of his times. In preparation for this work, on which he spent ten years of his life, he made extensive re- searches in various parts of our own country, and then went to Europe and employed a year in exam- ining the public offices in London and Paris, and taking copies of all important papers bearing on his subject. He was received with much courtesy and consideration, and through the kindness and friend- ship of the French Minister, Guizot, as well as of the English officials, he found unexpected facilities for the accomplishment of his enterprise. The first fruits of his labors appeared in 1829-30, in the "Diplomatic Correspondence of the American Revolution," a work in twelve volumes octavo, followed, two years after, by the " Life of Gouverneur Morris, with Selections from his Correspondence and Miscellaneous Papers," in three volumes octavo. " The American Almanac," a work of great value and various information, was also originated, and its first volume, for 1830, edited by him. He also became editor of the " Library of American Biography," of which two series were pub- 17 lished, comprising twenty-five volumes in all, be- tween the years 1834 and 1848, and for which sev- eral of the biographies, such as those of Benedict Arnold, Father Marquette, Count Pulaski, Charles Lee, Ethan Allen, and others, were, prepared by his own indefatigable pen. Thus, in the midst of the execution of his great and specially chosen work, he was carrying on with admirable diligence other lit- erary labors of much interest and value. In 1834, and the three years following, he gave to the world his "Life and Writings of Washington," in twelve octavo volumes, — a work which will ever claim the gratitude of all who love their country and revere the memory of the wise and noble man who did so much to secure its independence, and to lay the foundations deep and strong of our national union and greatness. In 1840, he completed the publication of " The Works of Benjamin Franklin, with Notes, and a Life of the Author," containing much before unpublished or uncollected matter, in ten octavo volumes. He soon after made a second journey to Europe, and, in his renewed researches among the French archives, discovered the map with the red line marked upon it, concerning which, and the use made of it in settling the question of the Northeastern Boundary in 1842, there was so much debate, both in this country and in England. In 1854 appeared " Correspondence of the American Revolution, being Letters of eminent Men to George Washington, from the Time of his taking Command of the Army to the End of his Pres- 3 18 idency, edited from the Original Manuscripts." This was the last of the important and interesting works, illustrative of American history, which we owe to the patriotic zeal, the patient industry and research of Mr. Sparks. He had previously, however, in 1852, in reply to the strictures of Lord Mahon and others on his mode of editing the writings of Washington, printed two pamphlets, fully vindicating his course, and showing that the only important criticisms were wholly unfounded and unjust. I need not speak, to those who are acquainted with his writings, of th^ thoroughness, carefulness, candor, and discrimination by which they are marked, and their clear, exact, and simple style, reflecting the qualities of his mind and heart. No finer examples can be found of patient research and conscientious devotion to historic truth. The brief survey which I have thus given of his literary labors and their abundant fruits, amounting to nearly a hundred volumes, a library in themselves, is enough to show, without any added words of mine, what an enterprising and indefatigable worker he has been ; and what an amount of service in his chosen and providential sphere he accomplished in his meridian strength and zeal, so quiet, yet so per- sistent and effective. Few have done so much as he, and so well. When to all this we add his academical engage- ments and lectures, the duties of the Professorship to which, in 1839, he was chosen, the Professor- ship of Ancient and Modern History, — an office which he held for ten years, until, in 1849, he was 19 elected President of the University which he had loved and served, the worthy successor of Kirkland. Quincy, and Everett, respected and beloved by offi- cers and students, — we may well admire and honor the fruitful industry of his well-spent life. An acci- dent, which for a time crippled his arm and disabled him for the accustomed use of his pen, about fifteen years since, interrupted and finally prevented the execution of a design which he had matured, and for which he had made large preparation, of writ- ing the Foreign Diplomatic History of our American Eevolution/^ But he never murmured. He bore the disappointment with a serene submission, a calm piety and patience, as admirable as the activity and energy with which he had labored in full health and strength. The memory of his virtues will forever abide with his friends, shining in their souls with a soft and pleasant light : and so he will continue to serve and to bless them in death, as he served and blessed them in life. Those who knew him best loved him most. "In simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God," he had his " con- * It was his orifjinal intention to write a history of the American Rev- ^^!^^ ,^ :.^%^r> t^ J' *"■: r . 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