tt 
 
 
 .^^% °^? 
 
°^'^--'/^ X'^^^v"" "v^^V^ ''"''* 
 
 
UBRA*^"^ ^ 
 
5^. 
 
AUTOBIOGEAPHICAL SKETCHES 
 
 EECOLLECTIONS, 
 
 A THIETY-FIVE YEARS' RESIDENCE IN 
 
 NEW ORLEANS. 
 
 BY 
 
 THEODORE CLAPP. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 PHILLIPS, SAMPSON & COMPANY. 
 
 185 8. 
 
■1- 
 
 ^ I I 
 
 '^ 5 U 5 % 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S57, by 
 
 PHILLIPS, SAMPSON & COMPANY, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 C Wt 
 
 Mrs. Henn«n Jennings 
 April 26, 1983 
 
 ELECXnOTTPED AT THE 
 BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOtJNDRY. 
 
Cjie Ptiultrs of i\t Cjjurclj of ^\t Ptssiirfj 
 
 IN NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA, 
 
 THESE PAGES 
 ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED, 
 
 BY 
 
 THEIIl LATE PASTOR, 
 AND ETEK-INDEBTED FRIEND, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Those who peruse this volume will see that my 
 life, ill many respects, has been uncommonly event- 
 ful. Nearly thirty-five years have been spent in 
 New Orleans. It has been my lot to pass through 
 twenty most fatal and wide-spreading epidemics, in- 
 cluding the yellow fever and cholera. Besides, 
 during many of those summers which were reported 
 to have been healthy by the medical authorities, I 
 have witnessed a great deal of suffering and mor- 
 tality among uiiacclimated strangers. 
 
 It may be a mere fancy, but it has always struck 
 me as a fact, that in Louisiana nature itself is, in 
 many elements, less steady and uniform tlian in the 
 higher latitudes of our country. Not unfrequently 
 the alternations of health and sickness, joy and sor- 
 row, commercial prosperity and misfortune, sweep 
 over the Crescent City with the suddenness and 
 fury of those autumnal hurricanes which occasion- 
 ally visit it, by which in a few moments of time the 
 strongest edifices are levelled with the dust, the ma- 
 jestic live oaks and cypresses prostrated, and the 
 vessels along the levee overwhelmed in the flood. 
 
 It has beeu my duty one day to officiate as a 
 
 (v) 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 clergyman, when a lovely daughter, shining in all 
 the charms and freshness of life's green spring, 
 stood before the bridal altar, and took upon herself 
 the beautiful vows of wedlock ; the very next, and 
 in the same room, by the side of her coffin, I have 
 been called to preside over that melancholy scene 
 which is the termination of all earthly prospects. 
 Standing in the pulpit one Sabbath, my attention 
 was arrested by the interesting form of a young- 
 gentleman before me, in the plenitude of health, 
 and listening with apparent attention to my words. 
 The Tuesday morning following it became my duty 
 to accompany his corpse to the Cemetery, and to 
 write a letter announcing the sad event to the sur- 
 viving relatives in a distant land. 
 
 Transitions from life to death equally sudden have 
 been common occurrences in my experience. The 
 New Orleans epidemics often prostrate hundreds of 
 friends and neighbors in a day, and like the flash 
 from the tempest-bearing cloud in a starless night, 
 disclose to survivors the perilous rocks iipon which 
 the bark of life may be dashed to atoms in an 
 instant. As to mortality, the bloodiest battles of 
 modern times can scarcely compare with the rav- 
 ages of yellow fever. In 1853, more lives were 
 destroyed than the British army lost on the field of 
 Waterloo. A volume, however ably written, could 
 not worthily portray the wretchedness caused by a 
 single epidemic — its long annals of bereavement, of 
 widowhood, of orphanage ; its unutterable griefs, 
 solitude, and destitution ; its heart-rending specta- 
 cles of thousands who fell without a relative or 
 
PEEFACE, VH 
 
 friend near to close their eyes and perform the last 
 sad offices for their remains. 
 
 Amid sucli melanclioly scenes a merciful Father 
 has allowed me to live more than a third of the 
 present century. The inhabitants of New Orleans 
 have treated me witli a noble and unfaltering gen- 
 erosity. I have been familiar in the confidence of 
 families of every name and denomination, not ex- 
 cepting the Creoles of the Roman Catholic church. 
 I have had access to all grades of character and 
 condition, in hours of sorrow, misfortune, gloom, 
 and despair ; and when the faces of friends grew dim 
 around their dying beds, and the outward world was 
 receding forever from their view, it has been my 
 privilege to point their spiritual eyes to that Re- 
 deemer who has conquered death and all our ene- 
 mies, who can enable us with joy and composure to 
 drink the last bitter cup of mortal grief, and beyond 
 the dark and dying struggle has promised at last to 
 introduce the race of man to the progressions of an 
 eternity, constantly increasing in the freshness, ex- 
 tent, beauty, and plenitude of its divine, unimagina- 
 ble charms. 
 
 During the period just referred to, my leading 
 views concerning Christianity have attracted a con- 
 siderable share of public attention. By many per- 
 sons they have been much commended ; by some 
 they have been severely denounced, as tending to 
 give countenance to errors hostile to the dearest 
 principles of morality and religion. Both of these 
 classes have, in some respects, misunderstood and 
 misrepresented my real sentiments. This, in addi- 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 tion to the facts mentioned in the preceding para- 
 graphs, makes me anxious to place on record a 
 short narrative of my teachings, doings, and suffer- 
 ings, from the commencement to the close of my 
 ministerial career in New Orleans. 
 
 To accomplish such an object it is necessary to 
 enumerate some of the antecedents of my earlier 
 days in the successive scenes of a New England 
 home, school, college, and theological training. It 
 may be said further, that I have been repeatedly 
 urged within the last few years to write my life by 
 several clergymen of different sects, on the ground 
 that such a work would afford something of novelty, 
 interest, and instruction for readers of every char- 
 acter, however diversified by religious faith and 
 predilections. Such, in general, are the reasons 
 which have induced me to prepare this volume for 
 the public. I pray that the offering may go forth 
 under the auspices of Him who is ready to help all 
 sincere laborers in the field of philanthro]\y ; that it 
 may not be entirely useless nor nncdifying to the 
 Christian community in general ; and especially that 
 it may be read with satisfaction by the numerous 
 friends, nortli, south, east, and west, with whom I 
 have the happiness to be personally acquainted. 
 
 The reader of these pages will be pleased to bear 
 in mind that the author has not attempted to exhibit 
 the identical words of the various conversations 
 herein recorded, but those which he believes are 
 essentially harmonious with what was actually 
 spoken. T. C. 
 
 LouiSMLLE, March, 1857. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I, 
 
 PAGE 
 
 My early History. ..... 7 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 College and Theological Studies. ... 17 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Andover. ....... 32 
 
 License. ...... 43 
 
 Ordination. • . . . . .43 
 
 Settlement in Lexington, Kentucky. ... 43 
 
 Anecdotes in Relation to the First Visit of the Rev. Sylvester 
 Lamed to the Valley of the Mississippi. . . .43 
 
 Peculiar Style of his Preaching. .... 47 
 
 1 (1) 
 
2 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 First Trip down the Mississippi. . . . .62 
 
 Walnut Hills. ...... 62 
 
 General Appearance of the Coast. . . . .64 
 
 Character of Stephen Poydras, Esq., the Philanthi'opist. . 66 
 
 Arrival at New Orleans. . . . . .69 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 My First Sermon in New Orleans. . . .83 
 
 Extemporaneous Preacliing. .... 83 
 
 Pecuniary Condition of the Chm-ch at ]Mr. Larned's Death. . 93 
 Generous Offer made by Judah Tom-o, Esq., . . 94 
 
 His peculiar Character, . . . . .95 
 
 Admission to the Presbytery of Mississippi. . . 95 
 
 Its Results . .100 
 
 Marriage. . . • • • .113 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 General Remarks upon the Epidemics which have prevailed 
 in New Orleans. . • • • .115 
 
 Asiatic Cholera in the Fall of 1832 and the Summer of 
 1833. . ... . . 117 
 
CONTENTS. B 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Change in my Theological Opinions and Style of Preaching. 153 
 Liberal Coui-so pursued by the Congregation, -with Respect 
 
 to these Modifications. . . • • .173 
 
 Generous INIanner in which I was treated by my Presbyterian 
 
 and other Trinitarian Brethren in the Ministry. . 175 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Epidemics of 1837 and 1853. . . . .185 
 
 Remarks on the Popular Views as to the Insalubrity of New 
 
 Orleans 187 
 
 The Causes of Yellow Fever, and its Remedies. . . 203 
 
 Its Bearings on the Morals of the Crescent City. . 209 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The State of Religion in New Orleans Tliirty-five Years 
 ago. . . . . . . . 222 
 
 The Roman Catholic Church of Louisiana. . . 223 
 
 Its auspicious Influence on the Welfare of its Votaries, social, 
 moral, and spiritual. ..... 235 
 
 The PecuUar Difficulties which Christianity encounters in 
 New Orleans at the Present Day. . . . 246 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Symptoms often accompanying the last Stages of the Yellow 
 Fever, &c. . . . . . .255 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 On the Connection between my Religious Teachings and the 
 Prevailing Character of the PecuUar Experiences tlu'ough 
 wliich I have passed in New Orleans. . . 265 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Dangerous Illness. . . . . . .284 
 
 Convalescence. . . . . . .286 
 
 Joiu-ney to Europe. ...... 296 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Incidents of Travel in Europe. . . . .313 
 
 Reflections which a superficial View of the Old World 
 awakened in my Mnd. . . . . .321 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Some further Particulars with Regard to my Interview with 
 Mr. Carlyle. ...... 345 
 
 Erroneous Impressions prevalent among the wise Men of 
 Europe concerning the United States. . . . 356 
 
 The Alps 366 
 
CONTENTS. 5 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Interior of Francfe. ...... 373 
 
 The ilonotonous Aspect of its Scenerj'. . . . 379 
 
 Manner of keeping the Sabbath on the Continent of Europe. 380 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Conclusion. ...... 385 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY 
 
 OP 
 
 REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MY EARLY HISTORY. 
 
 I WAS born in Easthampton, Hampshire county, 
 Massachusetts, on the 29th of March, 1792. The 
 place of my nativity is in the far-famed valley of the 
 Connecticut River, and is remarkable for the beauty 
 of its landscape ; scarcely exceeded by that of Boston 
 and its vicinity, as seen from the State House. The 
 house in which I lived was adjacent to the church 
 and parish school. From my earliest time I can 
 remember that both these institutions were zealously, 
 if not successfully, employed in developing the higher 
 facidties of my nature. Parental example and in- 
 struction did all in their power to promote my 
 intellectual and moral culture. 
 
 What was the result of all these combined ad- 
 vantages ? Did they make the morning of my life 
 calm, bright, and beautiful ? Parents and teachers 
 watched over and labored for my advancement with 
 the utmost assiduity. More kind-hearted, sincere, 
 
 (7) 
 
8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 and conscientious persons never lived. They, per- 
 haps, achieved all that was possible, considering the 
 principles upon which my education was conducted. 
 This was intended primarily to instil into my mind 
 the distinguishing doctrines of Calvinism. In the 
 nursery, the school room, and the pulpit I was 
 taught " that all mankind, (infants as well as adults,) 
 by the fall of Adam, lost communion with God, are 
 under his wrath and curse, and so made liable to all 
 the miseries of the present life, to death itself, and 
 to the pains of hell forever." The fii'st instance of 
 death which I witnessed was that of a little brother. 
 Standing on the vestibule of life, in the smiles and 
 beauty of his innocent age, he was cut down by the 
 illness of a few lioui's, — 
 
 "Like some fair flower the early spring supplies, 
 That gayly blooms, and e'en in blooming dies." 
 
 He had been my constant companion. I loved 
 him as my own soul. It was impossible to realize 
 that I should hear his voice and enjoy his company 
 no more on earth. In the paroxysms of my grief I 
 said to a weeping mother, " Will our dear Loring 
 never, never awake again?" She replied, at first, 
 only with louder and deeper sobs. It was near the 
 sunset of a lovely afternoon, at the close of spring. 
 From a window by which the corpse lay was a pros- 
 pect of gardens, shrubbery, orchards in bloom, green 
 meadows, lofty mountains, and the distant glories 
 of an unclouded sun, on the verge of the horizon. 
 Pointing to the magnificent scenery, she said, with 
 an expression of despair, indelibly impressed on my 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 9 
 
 memory, " Your brother -will never open his eyes 
 again to look on me nor you — he will speak to us 
 no more — no more listen to the voice of father, 
 mother, brother, or sister — no more join in your 
 plays — no more see the sun rise, nor hear the birds 
 sing." 
 
 Her words fdled my heart with unutterable feel- 
 ings of desolateness and sorrow. Not a syllable was 
 said with respect to that better world beyond the 
 mysterious grave, where surviving relatives and 
 friends may hope to meet the loved and lost, and 
 take them again to their everlasting embrace, on the 
 beautiful shores of a land immortal. For though 
 she firmly believed in heaven, her creed made the 
 question an awful, heart-rending uncertainty — 
 whether she was destined at last to embrace all her 
 children there — 
 
 " There ever bask in uncreated rays, 
 No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear, 
 While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere. 
 
 Next morning the funeral was solemnized. The 
 officiating clergyman, in the course of his remarks, 
 observed, that in every instance death was caused 
 by man's disobedience to the divine command, and 
 should be considered in tlie case of children, who 
 died before they were capable of actual transgres- 
 sion, as a just punishment for that hereditary guilt 
 and depravity transmitted from our first parents to 
 all their posterity. " The sinfulness of an infant," 
 said he, " that is not old enough to do a wrong act 
 itself, consists in the guilt of Adam's first sin, the 
 want of original righteousness, and the corruption 
 
10 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 of his whole nature." " We might hope," he added, 
 " that the benefits of the atonement would be extend- 
 ed to the millions who go to the grave in the period 
 of infancy ; but God, in perfect consistency with in- 
 finite justice and holiness, might have left all man- 
 kind, without an exception, to perish forever in that 
 state of sin and misery, which flowed inevitably 
 from the first act of transgression committed in 
 paradise." 
 
 Such were the ideas which the original teachings 
 of beloved parents and venerable ministers impressed 
 on my mind. All the subsequent instructions that 
 were given me on this momentous theme, by my 
 superiors in age and wisdom, were of an import 
 equally gloomy and preposterous. No inconsider- 
 able part of all the preaching to which I listened in 
 my youth went to show, that mortality, weakness, 
 pain, the countless forms of disease, sick rooms, 
 death beds, graveyards, hospitals, the shroud, coffin, 
 and tomb were the necessary, inevitable conse- 
 quences of the first sin. I was even taught that an 
 incensed Creator manifests his wrath in the volcano, 
 earthquake, flood, storm, thunder and lightning ; 
 the excesses of heat and cold ; sterility of soil ; 
 bleak, rocky wastes ; briers, thorns, and thistles ; 
 poisonous plants and reptiles, and all other objects 
 in nature that are the sources of pain and fear to 
 our misguided and unhappy race. 
 
 These melancholy views of human life were most 
 cordially and fully received, without even a suspicion 
 that they could be fallacious. For they were infused 
 into, what appeared to my unformed judgment, the 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 11 
 
 embodiments of the most sacred, sublime truths — 
 into prayers, public and private, sermons, conversa- 
 tion, books, the interpretations of Scripture, and 
 all the religious literature around me. They had 
 been handed down, I was told, by nearly all the wise 
 and good of former generations. I could not doubt 
 their reality. True, they were so repulsive that I 
 kept them out of sight as much as possible ; but, in 
 spite of my efforts, they would obtrude themselves 
 upon my mind often enough to darken and imbitter, 
 to a serious extent, each passing day. They hung a 
 cloud upon the serene and bright morning — tho 
 unutterable .beauties of early dawn — the various 
 and ever-renewed wonders of heaven above and earth 
 beneath, which were given to kindle and nourish in 
 the soul even of childhood a deep, joyous sense of 
 the constant presence of that great Father, in the 
 plenitude of whose infinite life, light, truth, love, 
 wisdom, power, and beneficence, we shall move and 
 have our existence forever. 
 
 I am almost afraid to utter my real sentiments, 
 lest it might expose me to the charge of being un- 
 charitable to those who difier from me in theological 
 opinions. I fully believe that if all children living 
 could be enabled to see God as he really is, — un- 
 veiled and unperverted by the false lights in which 
 his character is too often presented, — could they, 
 from the beginning, be led up to a correct perception 
 of the true nature and principles of his government, 
 as revealed by Jesus, they would almost spontane- 
 ously resist temptations to sin and folly, and cleave 
 with an unfaltering trust to the infinite One, as the 
 
12 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 little infant does to the bosom of its fond mother. 
 They would not dream that a real evil could, by any 
 possibility, be inflicted upon the objects of his love 
 and care. 
 
 Indeed, children should be early initiated into the 
 certainty of suffering a just punishment for all the 
 wrong which they may commit ; but, at the same 
 time, they should be carefully taught the doctrine, 
 that punishment is only one of the innumerable forms 
 under which boundless Love has been pleased to 
 make a revelation of his will and character ; that it 
 is one of the strongest proofs of his infinite, everlast- 
 ing, and immutable purpose to bring back all sin- 
 ners, finally, to the paths of peace and holiness. 
 Make a child believe that our heavenly Father can 
 hurt him, or allow him, by any evil whatever, to be 
 seriously and forever injured, and from that moment 
 he becomes incapable, even, of that highest love for 
 the Supreme, which, as our Saviour teaches, consti- 
 tutes the essence and glory of evangelical faith. 
 
 In New England, generally, at the period I am 
 referring to, the first impression which children, 
 almost without an exception, received of God, was 
 that of a Being from whom they had less to hope, 
 and more to fear, than from all the wicked men 
 and demons in the universe. This impression was 
 strengthened by the uniform tenor of pulpit teach- 
 ings. Hence religion was set before them, not with 
 the bright aspect and radiant smile of a good angel, 
 but looking like a fiend, with maniac eye, dishevelled 
 hair, wrinkled brow, pallid and emaciated counte- 
 nance — her expression that of unrelenting severity 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 13 
 
 — licr hands armed with whips and scorpions, to 
 drive us from every beautiful scene of nature into 
 rugged and desolate paths, beset with briers and 
 thorns, and bordered by impenetrable gloom. How 
 can children admire the character ascribed to the 
 great Parent, in the general strain of pulpit minis- 
 trations. It is a character " that they should not 
 love if they could." 
 
 When will the veil of darkness and deformity bo 
 removed from the face of the most glorious object 
 of contemplation in the universe ? When will re- 
 ligion be presented to children with more to cheer, 
 animate, and encourage, and less to awe, depress, 
 and break down their naturally buoyant and joyous 
 spirits ? It is high time that those accents wero 
 heard in every nursery, school, and temple of wor- 
 ship, which fell so gently and eloquently from the 
 lips of Jesus eighteen hundred years ago. 
 
 More than we can imagine do children every 
 where need the ministries of a true, hopeful, and 
 cheering Christianity, which shall bind them to 
 God's throne by the ties of a supreme, absorbing 
 love ; draw out their hearts in unreserved confidence 
 in the Most High, and forbid even the possibility of 
 a fear or suspicion, that they can fail of reaching, 
 ultimately, the regions of immortal and bouudless 
 good. The young would almost spontaneously 
 choose the morally pure and beautiful, were they 
 brought up with the certainty upon their minds of 
 enjoying a future life, free from sin, pain, sorrow, 
 sickness, and death, with the other attendant evils 
 2 
 
14 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 of mortality, in the presence and society of all whom 
 they loved on earth. 
 
 It is said that the American savage, when trans- 
 ported to England or France, sees nothing in the 
 splendid creations of art, and the luxuries of the 
 highest civilization, half so dear to his soul, as the 
 smoky wigwam, the widely-extended prairies, and 
 interminable forests of his native land. This at- 
 tachment to the scenes of early life is a universal 
 characteristic of humanity, yet it is possessed in very 
 different degrees. The barbarian has more of it, I 
 believe, than many persons who come into existence 
 amid the richest blessings which education and re- 
 finement can impart. When I call up before me the 
 spot where I drew my first breath ; the beautiful val- 
 leys, rivers, hills, ponds, plains, and grand mountain 
 scenery ; the old school house, with its thousand 
 associations ; the humble church ; its bell, ringing 
 the solemn call for worship ; its choir, raising the 
 voices of praise ; and above all, that sacred retreat, 
 that nursery of my youth, where a mother's warm 
 heart and a father's wisdom put forth all their en- 
 ergies to guide me in the pleasant paths of knowl- 
 edge and honor ; the whole, indeed, to-day presents 
 to my mind a picture of surpassing loveliness. 
 But it is a loveliness which, during the season of my 
 boyhood, I could neither imderstand nor appreciate. 
 Not until a later period could I realize the many 
 charms of that humble home in which my childhood 
 was passed. 
 
 Farther back than memory reaches, I learned to 
 spell and read. When my nature panted for free- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 15 
 
 dom, I "was shut up in a parish school, most of the 
 day, during two thirds of the year. The one to 
 which I was sent was kept in a small, uncomfortable 
 building, with narrow windows, unventilatcd, insup- 
 portably warm in summer, and cold in winter. In 
 such a dungeon, subjected to a routine of irksome 
 tasks, unrelieved by maps, charts, diagrams, globes, 
 and other aids in the acquisition of knowledge, and 
 which make it a pastime to the young, I was placed, 
 for the best part of twelve years, to be instructed in 
 the rudiments merely of reading, w^riting, arithmetic, 
 and grammar. Sunday was the only holiday in the 
 week. At sundown each Saturday night, all secular 
 labors were brought to a solemn pause. Till the sun- 
 set of the next day, we w^ere never allowed to leave 
 the house, except to enter the church. In prayers, 
 sermons, conversation, and books, heaven was repre- 
 sented to us under the symbol of an everlasting 
 Sabbath day. What an ingenious expedient to 
 make religion appear beautiful to the young, loving, 
 and innocent mind ! These, and other things which 
 I have no space to enumerate, produced, as I sup- 
 pose, a singular anomaly in my personal experience. 
 The actual amount of happiness which has fallen to 
 my lot, was less in childhood than it is to-day. I 
 was not so happy at ten as at twenty. Increase of 
 years, and wider experiences, have not contracted, 
 but enlarged, the sphere of my enjoyments. I have 
 learned to look upon the world, with all its imper- 
 fections, in the light presented by the poet : — 
 
 " Cease, then, nor order imperfection name ; 
 Our greatest bliss depends on wliat we blame ; 
 
16 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 Know thy ovm point ; this kind, this due degree 
 
 Of blindness, weakness, Heaven bestows on thee. 
 
 Submit; in this or any other sphere, 
 
 Secure to be as blest as thou canst bear ; 
 
 Safe in the hand of one disposing Power, 
 
 Or in the natal or the mortal hour. 
 
 All nature is but art, unkno^vn to thee ; 
 
 All chance, direction which thou canst not see : 
 
 All discord, harmony not understood ; 
 
 All partial evil, universal good." 
 
REV, THEODOPvE CLAPP. 17 
 
 CHATTER II. 
 
 COLLEGE, AND THEOLOGICAL STUDIES. 
 
 On the anniversary of my birthday, March 29, 
 1810, I commenced learning the Latin grammar, 
 under the tuition of a clergyman distingnished for 
 his classical attainments and skill in teaching. Pre- 
 vious to tliat time, I was acquainted with no lan- 
 guage but my vernacular tongue. By the end of 
 September of the same year, besides minor selec- 
 tions, I had perused, translated, and parsed the en- 
 tire works of Virgil, Cicero's orations against Cati- 
 line, Sallust, and the Commentaries of Cffisar, among 
 the Latin classics, together with the Greek Grammar, 
 the Greek New Testament, and the " Grceca Minora," 
 which at that time was much used in fitting students 
 for college. My preceptor, who had been a professor 
 of ancient languages in one of the best universi- 
 ties of New England, was pleased to say that I was 
 sufficiently acquainted with the writings above men- 
 tioned to become a teacher of them in any academy 
 or school of the land. He thought my case pre- 
 sented a remarkable instance of rapid proficiency, 
 and that no person of the same age ever made more 
 extensive acquirements in so short a space of time. 
 He said, one day, after examining me critically in 
 Latin and Greek, " Few men ever possessed an in- 
 tellect more ardent and powerful than yours. By 
 habits of persevering and systematic exertion, you 
 
 9 * 
 
18 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 may become entitled to a distinguished rank among 
 scholars, and be qualified to defend Christianity 
 against the specious errors now openly and ably 
 taught by some of the leading clergymen and literati 
 of Boston and Cambridge. We require a class of 
 ministers to meet the present exigency, who, in 
 addition to true godliness and profound theological 
 attainments, will be able to gratify their hearers 
 with the fascinations of a graceful delivery and an 
 elegant style." From that day, I began to entertain, 
 at times, serious thoughts of devoting myself to the 
 clerical profession. 
 
 I look back iipon the summer of 1810 as one of 
 the happiest parts of my early life. The window of 
 my study looked out upon a rich natural landscape 
 — fields in verdure, gardens, orchards, running 
 water, animals grazing, and other objects suitable to 
 such a scene. Especially before breakfast and late 
 in the afternoon, I used to look away from my books, 
 to hold communion with the various forms of na- 
 ture ; to enjoy, in sweet repose, the sense of beauty. 
 Memory has kept that prospect before my mind ever 
 since. To the present day, I delight in its contem- 
 plation. 
 
 " For my gayer hours, 
 It has a voice of gladness, and a smile, 
 And eloquence of beauty, and it glides 
 Into my dai-ker musings, with a mild 
 And healing sympathy, that steals away 
 Their sharpness, ere I am aware." 
 
 Those meadows, those fairly-rounded hills, mean- 
 dering streams, waving woods, white cottages, and 
 fine buildings, have always been mine, and have 
 
KEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 19 
 
 actually contributed as much to my real enjoyment 
 as if, to use the parlance of law, they had been con- 
 veyed to me in fee simple. 
 
 All the essential interests of mankind centre in 
 the soul. The poorest man, as well as the rich, 
 owns as much of the outward world as images to 
 his view the grandeur, loveliness, and perfections of 
 God ; as enables him to comprehend the Maker of 
 all ; to imbibe the inspirations of his Spirit, to 
 attain those noble thoughts and holy affections, 
 which are the only source of all the real blessings 
 that lie within the compass of time, or within the 
 boundless range of future and eternal developments. 
 Virtue, heaven, immortality, exist not, and never 
 will exist for us, but as they exist in the percep- 
 tions, feelings, thoughts of our minds. He is the 
 richest and wisest person who sees most of God in 
 the outward, physical universe, in the pages of sa- 
 cred writ, and in the wonders of his own nature. 
 Offices, stocks, monopolies, mercantile gains, sugar 
 and cotton estates, lands, freighted ships, and rich 
 mines, can do nothing of themselves to awaken those 
 sentiments, without which every human soul is dark, 
 debased, impoverished, and miserable. 
 
 I cannot remember the time when I did not prize 
 opportunities of study more than any other temporal 
 blessing, simply because nothing else within my 
 reach afforded equal pleasure. It was my ruling 
 passion. To most youth there is not a more ab- 
 horred exercise than that of committing to memory, 
 before the understanding can perceive their use and 
 application, the grammatical forms, rules, and prin- 
 
20' AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 ciples of a dead language. But I never could be 
 cloyed with this kind of labor. Strange as it may 
 appear, in seasons of relaxation, spontaneously, with- 
 out an effort, my mind used to run over the declen- 
 sions of the nouns and the conjugations of the verbs 
 in the Latin and Greek grammars, with as true a 
 pleasure as the poet or musician feels in the prosecu- 
 tion of his favorite studies. I was so pleased with 
 the story of Virgil's ^Eneid, the naturalness and beau- 
 ty of its scenes, and characters, and sentiments, that 
 I went through it with an accelerating interest which 
 rendered me almost insensible to the toil of master- 
 ing language. Occasionally, boys will make their 
 appearance on the stage having the same mental idi- 
 osyncrasies. It is the natural result of an eternal 
 law. Hence it is certain that the ancient classics 
 will never sink into oblivion. Let those who have a 
 taste for their beauties be gratified. I suppose there 
 are persons whose peculiar powers and sensibilities 
 of mind qualify them to be more useful, as well as 
 happy, in learning and displaying to the world the 
 wonders of Greek and Roman literature, than they 
 could be in any other department of human activity. 
 Those works of genius which the most cultivated 
 nations of the earth have concurred in admiring as 
 models, for so many centuries, can never be lost. 
 They must have been framed by the standard of 
 nature : — 
 
 " Unerring nature, still divinely bright, 
 One clear, unchanged, and universal light, 
 Life, force, and beauty must to all impart, 
 At once the source, and end, and test of art." 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 21 
 
 In September, 1811, one year and a half from the 
 time my preparatory studies commenced, I was ad- 
 mitted into the junior class of Yale College, Connec- 
 ticut. One of the gentlemen who examined me 
 remarked that I had compressed into the short space 
 of eighteen months acquisitions which no young 
 man, however vigorous his intellect, should attempt 
 to accomplish in less time than four years. The 
 fact is, that I had studied hard, from fourteen to six- 
 teen hours a day, without any efficient out-door ex- 
 ercise. This last want I endeavored to supply by 
 taking very little food. I lived chiefly on bread and 
 water. Milk I was very fond of, but it operated as a 
 narcotic. The carrying out of this programme, 
 which I might have foreseen, produced disastrous 
 consequences. It reduced me to a skeleton, and 
 brought on a complication of alarming ailments. I 
 was induced to call in a physician. He prescribed 
 abstinence from study, seclusion, and a course of 
 medicine. In one hour from the time he left my 
 room, I determined, without permission of the fac- 
 ulty, to take a journey for my health. Throwing 
 the pill box and vial out of the window, at 9 o'clock 
 P. M. the same day, I was a passenger in the mail 
 stage running from New Haven to Albany. Here I 
 wrote to my father, and the president of the college, 
 to explain the reasons of an elopement which, in 
 their sight, must have seemed mysterious, if not 
 criminal. In a few days, kind answers were returned 
 to my letters ; I was excused, and encouraged to 
 travel on, if it made my health any better. 
 
 Every week I felt stronger as I advanced, and 
 
22 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 
 
 never stopped, except a few days at a time, till I 
 reached my home at Easthamptoii, in the autumn of 
 1812. For seven months, I had wandered, some- 
 times on horseback, sometimes on foot, sometimes in 
 a stage coach, wagon, or buggy, through all the 
 western and central portions of New York, from 
 Albany to Buffalo. Travel, hunting, fishing, rough 
 fare, sleeping on the floors of log cabins, fatigue, 
 wet, cold, a constant change of scenery, and a suc- 
 cession of stirring adventures among those who were 
 then considered by many as border ruffians, com- 
 pletely metamorphosed my physical condition, and, 
 without a particle of medicine, placed me again in 
 the full enjoyment of life and health. I have men- 
 tioned this item of my experience as illustrative of 
 the chief causes of debility, consumption, and pre- 
 mature death, among the students of our colleges 
 and universities. Had I followed the advice of 
 my physician, I could not have lived through my 
 junior term. To be sure, I graduated one year later 
 in consequence of this excursion ; but it was the 
 means of my adopting a system of exercise quite as 
 essential to growth of mind as reading and medita- 
 tion. During the two last years of my collegiate 
 course, and the three devoted to the study of theol- 
 ogy, I never failed, in all sorts of weather, to walk 
 at least five miles every day, besides spending an 
 hour in sawing wood, working in a garden, or some 
 other labor equally active and invigorating. Proper 
 diet, exercise, sleep, and cleanliness, are the immu- 
 table conditions, not only of physical, but also of 
 spiritual health. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 23 
 
 A chronological account of my life's progress is 
 not required by the purpose of the present work. 
 If attempted, it could not be done by my plain, prosy 
 pen with sufficient spirit and beauty to interest my 
 readers. The object before me is to trace a slight 
 outline of those events and incidents only which re- 
 flecting persons can look at with pleasure, and I hope 
 witli profit, unconnected by the relations of time, or 
 cause and effect. The celebrated Walter Scott once 
 observed, that in an ordinary ride in a stage coach, 
 he never found a man so dull, if a free conversation 
 were opened, as not to utter thoughts to him original 
 and instructive, which he would have been very sorry 
 not to have heard. Were it possible, this record 
 should represent experiences, the perusal of which 
 would not be less edifying to great and distinguished 
 minds than the conversation of illiterate, plain, but 
 sincere and honest people in general. 
 
 It is a commonplace remark, that the events which 
 determine the course of one's life are controlled by 
 some unseen and irresistible power. I shall now 
 advert to an item of my personal history that may 
 serve as a commentary on the following words of 
 Scripture : " Lord, I know that the way of man is 
 not in himself; it is not in man that walkcth to di- 
 rect his steps." The last year of my residence in 
 New Haven, I was much in the society of a class- 
 mate by the name of Hopkins. The strongest at- 
 tachment grew up between us ; we were never apart 
 when disengaged from our studies ; we received the 
 nicknames of Damon and Pythias, the story of whose 
 friendship will never die, so long as Grecian literature 
 
24 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 is read and admired. Our class graduated Septem- 
 ber, 1814. It was agreed that, after spending a few 
 weeks at our respective homes, we should meet and 
 journey in company to Litchfield, Connecticut, to at- 
 tend a course of lectures in the most respectable and 
 systematic law school then existing in the United 
 States. In determining to pursue the legal profes- 
 sion, wc were guided chiefly by the belief that its 
 principles were more congenial to our mental tastes 
 and characters, than cither those of medicine or 
 divinity. 
 
 Young Hopkins lived about ten miles north of 
 Easthampton, on the banks of the Connecticut. He 
 wrote that he should pass my father's house in the 
 stage on a certain Wednesday. I was ready to take 
 my seat with him at the time specified ; but when 
 the coach arrived, my friend was not among the pas- 
 sengers. The conclusion was, that some trivial cir- 
 cumstance had induced him to put off starting for a 
 day or two. I waited patiently through the week, 
 without seeing him, or hearing from him ; I then 
 learned that he had been detained at home by seri- 
 ous illness. Immediately I went to visit him. Ho 
 received me with much emotion, saying, " My work 
 on earth is finished, and in a few hours I shall take 
 my departure to 
 
 ' That undiscovered country from whose bourn 
 No traveller returns.' " 
 
 He was perfectly calm and undismayed at the pros- 
 pect of death, about which he conversed with much 
 pathos and eloquence. When I bade him the last 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 25 
 
 farewell, with my hand clasped in his, he said to me, 
 " that it were in your power to view this world as 
 it now appears to mo, from the borders of the grave. 
 Were I to recover, and enter upon life again, with 
 my present thoughts and feelings, instead of going 
 to Litchfield, I should repair to Andover, or Prince- 
 ton, and become qualified for the ministry. The 
 memory of disinterestedness, of self-sacrificing labors 
 for our fellow-beings, and the hope of a glorious 
 immortality through Christ, are the only sources of 
 peace and support in a dying hour." 
 
 These words sank so deeply on my heart, that I 
 could hardly think of any thing else for months after 
 his death. They produced a total revolution in my 
 views and plans for life. 1 could not realize that he 
 had been removed from my presence and society. It 
 seemed as if he was still alive, and regarding me 
 with a sympathy purer and deeper than ever. The 
 unshaken belief that he was a constant witness of 
 my doings, was an irresistible motive, prompting me 
 to make every endeavor to lead such a life as would 
 give him the greatest joy, till permitted by a merci- 
 ful Saviour to meet again on the shores of a happy 
 immortality. The project of devoting myself to the 
 practice of law was abandoned, and in a few weeks 
 I commenced the stud^ of theology. 
 
 It might be argued that I acted with entire free- 
 dom in choosing a vocation which this beloved friend, 
 in his last moments, urged me to embrace. But 
 choice is in every instance an effect. This effect is 
 always produced by some motive acting on the will. 
 To say that I could have made an opposite choice 
 3 
 
26 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 with perfect case, is the same thing as to assert that 
 I have power to resist the strongest motives wliich 
 can be presented to my mind. In that case, I may 
 trample under foot the most powerful inducements 
 offered by the Creator himself to persuade me to 
 obedience, and, in spite of his almighty will, tread 
 the downward path to ruin. It is self-evident, then, 
 that the events and circumstances which led me to 
 adopt a profession for life, came from God, and ex- 
 erted an influence upon my will, which, at the time, 
 was as m.uch beyond human control as the winds, 
 weather, tides, or seasons. A true philosophy re- 
 solves all the differences, both physical and moral, 
 which exist among men, into " the will and arbitra- 
 tion wise of the Supreme." " I know, Lord, it is 
 not in man who walketh to direct his steps." 
 
 I will relate another anecdote bearing upon the 
 same point. In the summer of 1821, I spent a few 
 weeks at a celebrated watering place in Kentucky. 
 At that resort I met a large number of intelligent 
 and fashionable people from the principal cities of 
 the west and south, and a few from New Orleans. 
 Their time was passed in scenes of pleasure, gayety, 
 and excess, which I had never witnessed in the staid 
 regions of New England. When Sabbath came, a 
 discussion took place at the bj^eakfast table, with re- 
 gard to the best manner of spending the morning. 
 " We cannot," some said, " desecrate the day by 
 dancing, cards, and frolic. This would be a trespass 
 on the laws of civility as well as the church." The 
 company finally concluded, if possible, to have 
 preaching ; and the ball room was selected as the 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 27 
 
 only place sufficiently large to afford suitable accom- 
 modations. It so happened that I was the only 
 clergyman present. I had no written sermon with 
 me, nor any kind of manuscript which would answer 
 as a substitute. There was no time for premedita- 
 tion, nor did I believe it to be in my power to deliver 
 an extemporaneous discourse. 
 
 It was with some difficulty that a Bible was found. 
 The master of the hotel acknowledged that there 
 was none in his possession. Not a person there 
 could furnish a copy of the Scriptures, except my- 
 self, and that was in the Hebrew and Greek lan- 
 guages. To escape from a disagreeable dilemma, it 
 occurred to me that I might insist upon the impro- 
 priety of using the word of God in an unknown 
 dialect. This was done. The argument seemed 
 plausible, and for a moment held forth a prospect of 
 deliverance. At this juncture the landlady recollect- 
 ed that a missionary, travelling through those parts a 
 few weeks before, had left some books at the house. 
 Among them might be the one which the occasion 
 called for. When the servants were interrogated on 
 the subject, one of them said that the books had 
 been stowed away in the garret. A search was 
 made. A Bible was found and laid upon the table at 
 that end of the ball room appropriated to musical 
 performances. The room was soon filled with a silent 
 and attentive audience. There were none in the 
 company willing to sing. After a short prayer, I sat 
 down in the greatest agitation and uncertainty. 
 
 All at once the thought struck me that I would 
 read the first Psalm, and make some remarks on it — 
 
28 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 " Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel 
 of the ungodly," &c. A few days before I had read, 
 with great attention and delight, Dr. Paley's chapter 
 on happiness, in his Moral Philosophy. Its leading 
 ideas were fresh in my mind. With their help, and 
 that of the Psalm, I was enabled to discuss, very im- 
 perfectly, the question. How shall happiness be 
 found ? I spoke forty minutes by the clock, and 
 though the thoughts of the address were trite, snpcr- 
 ficial, and commonplace, it was one of the most 
 effective discourses which I ever pronounced, simply 
 because it suited the place, the hearers, and the oc- 
 casion. 
 
 This address was the primary cause of my settle- 
 ment in New Orleans. There happened to l^e in the 
 audience two gentlemen of that city travelling for 
 health, who were trustees of the Rev. Mr. Larned's 
 church, my illustrious predecessor. He had fallen 
 in the epidemic of the preceding year. They were 
 gratified with my extemporaneous effort, but were 
 total strangers to me, and I never saw their faces till 
 I became personally acquainted with them the next 
 winter, on my first visit to Louisiana. As soon as 
 they returned home, and at their suggestion, a letter 
 was written to me at Louisville, by which I was in- 
 vited to succeed Mr. Larned as pastor of the Presby- 
 terian Church in New Orleans. I declined the first 
 invitation, and also the second, because I was deter- 
 mined to spend my days in Massachusetts. Waiting 
 at the falls of the Ohio for the commencement of 
 steamboat navigation, which was obstructed by ice 
 and low water, I received a third invitation. Li it 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 29 
 
 the trustees proposed my returning to Boston by the 
 way of New Orleans, pausing to preach a few ^ah- 
 baths for them, long enough to form a partial ac- 
 quaintance with the congregation and the place. 
 This proposition I was constrained to accept. 
 
 I went on the excursion to the springs just referred 
 to, with mucli hesitation and reluctance. It was 
 done merely to please some intimate friends, whose 
 urgent solicitations overcame my will. The first 
 week of my sojourn in New Orleans, I assured the 
 trustees that nothing could induce me to stay there 
 longer than three months. At the expiration of this 
 time I made every effort in my power to get out of 
 the city forever. But God is stronger than man, and 
 he was pleased to confine me there thirty-five years. 
 
 A power as omnipotent as that which makes the 
 sun rise, or rivers descend, shaped the whole course 
 of my professional existence and career in New Or- 
 leans. One item subtracted, or changed as to the 
 circumstances above specified, would have modified 
 my destiny, and colored my days with different hues 
 for life. If it be asked what cause makes the fortunes 
 of one man so different from those of another, the 
 only scriptural and philosophical answer is, the icill 
 of God. In defiance of my strongest wishes, I was 
 compelled to settle in Louisiana. I did not covet the 
 allotment. Twenty-five years ago, if any man had 
 prophesied that I should one day become a Unitarian, 
 tlie reply to his prediction would have been, " Is thy 
 servant a dog, that he should do this thing ? " Then 
 I shoidd have thought it as likely that I might, at 
 some future time, turn pirate, or highwayman, as to 
 
30 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 
 
 become an advocate of liberal Christianity. Either 
 contingency would have appeared to me equally 
 shocking and improbable. To-day, next to tliat of 
 God's existence, the strongest conviction of my 
 understanding is a belief in the doctrine of the 
 final holiness and happiness of all mankind. And 
 the most inscrutable phenomenon within my 0I3- 
 servation is that of an intelligent, good man who 
 really doubts this great central, sublime truth of 
 the gospel. I would also remark that the causes 
 which brought about this revolution in my theology 
 are as much beyond human volition as the motion 
 of the planets. Profoundly do I admire these words 
 of tlie Holy Spirit : " It is not in man that walketh 
 to direct his steps." Cowper was an Orthodox, Cal- 
 vinistic poet, the genuineness of whose piety is uni- 
 versally admitted. Hear his words : — 
 
 " God gives to every man 
 The fortune, temper, understanding, taste, 
 That lift him into life, and let him fall 
 Just in the niche he was ordained to fill." 
 
 In another place he writes as follows : — 
 
 " Happy the man who sees a God employed 
 In all the good and ill that checker life. 
 Resolving all events, with their efFects 
 And manifold results, into the will 
 And arbitration wise of the Supreme. 
 Did not his eye rule all things, and intend 
 The least of our concerns, (since from the least 
 The greatest oft originate,) could chance 
 Find place in his dominion, or dispose 
 One lawless particle to thwart his plan. 
 Then God might be surprised, and unforeseen 
 Contingencies might alarm him and disturb 
 The smooth and equal course of his affairs." 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 31 
 
 Yet every man is perfectly free and accountable, 
 and deserving of punishment when he does wrong. 
 Every man has his own way — so he feels and be- 
 lieves — so he actually has. It is equally certaui 
 that God has his way in every thing. If he has not, 
 then there is something in the universe superior to 
 his almighty will. In this case, it may be inquired. 
 Is not every man directed by God ? Is he not una- 
 voidabhj compelled to do as he does ? Was it not 
 impossible for him to do otherwise ? These ques- 
 tions cannot be fathomed by philosophy, or theologi- 
 cal science. If man were not free in a certain sense, 
 he could not be blameworthy nor punishable. Still 
 all concede that if he were not a creature of circum- 
 stances and influences beyond himself, it would be 
 impossible for God " to work in Jiim to ivill and to 
 do of his good pleasure^'' and finally conduct him 
 to everlasting life. The same Power that overcomes 
 the infidelity of one human heart, can overcome 
 that of «//, if it be his sovereign pleasure. 
 
32 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ANDOVER. — LICENSE. — ORDINATION. — SETTLEMENT IN 
 
 LEXINGTON, KENTUCKY. ANECDOTES IN RELATION 
 
 TO THE FIRST VISIT OF THE REV. SYLVESTER LARNED 
 TO THE VALLEY OF THE MISSISSIPPI. — PECULIAR 
 STYLE OF HIS PREACHING. 
 
 When I Tvas a student in the Tlieological Seminary 
 at Andover, Massachusetts, it was my good fortune 
 to occupy, for some months, a dormitory in the pri- 
 vate residence of the celebrated Dr. Woods, at tliat 
 time professor of dogmatic theology in this lar- 
 famed institution. I was allowed by the doctor oc- 
 casionally to sit with him in his own private study to 
 learn my daily lessons. Only one condition was im- 
 posed — that I should never interrupt him by asking 
 questions when engaged in writing. He treated me 
 with uniform kindness, and apparently with great 
 confidence. I regarded it as a most enviable privi- 
 lege to spend so many of my hours in the presence 
 of such an eminent saint and tlieologian. One 
 morning, when we were both absorbed in our studies, 
 a stranger intruded himself into our presence, to 
 solicit advice in regard to some church difficulties 
 that had occurred not long before in a town some 
 miles distant. On the announcement of his er- 
 rand, I instantly rose to leave the room ; but the 
 professor told me that I had better stay and go on 
 with my labors, else I might not be prepared for the 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 33 
 
 next recitation. After the gentleman had made a 
 full statement of his case, Dr. Woods gave substan- 
 tially the following, decision. I do not pretend to 
 give his precise words. 
 
 " Your friend has indeed grossly violated the laws 
 of holiness ; but his misconduct is not generally 
 known. It has come to tlie knowledge, you say, of 
 but very few persons, who are all friendly to him and 
 the church, and are anxious that the scandal should 
 spread no farther. 
 
 " Moreover, he is a man of great popularity and 
 consideration in the place of his residence. He is 
 very rich, and liberal in his contributions to religious 
 and charitable societies. By bringing his case pub- 
 licly before the church for discipline, you may do an 
 irreparable injury, not only to the man himself, but 
 also to his amiable, unoffending family. In my 
 judgment, no good could possibly accrue from such 
 a measure. You had better pass it by with a pri- 
 vate admonition, and continue to use his elevated 
 position and extensive influence in building up the 
 Redeemer's cause in your peaceful and flourishing 
 parish." 
 
 After this case was disposed of, a second was pre- 
 sented for deliberation. A member of the same 
 church had been heard to avow repeatedly his disbe- 
 lief in the doctrine of the Trinity. He was in the 
 habit of talking against it among his acquaintances. 
 True, his moral character was unexceptionable ; nay, 
 it was excellent — rich in every virtue that could 
 serve to make one a light, charm, ornament, and 
 blessing in society. " But," said the doctor, " no 
 
34 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 matter how good or benevolent ho is ; clislDelieving 
 the Trinity, he denies tlie faith once delivered to the 
 saints, and is not fit to be the member of a Chris- 
 tian church. He should be arraigned for heresy, 
 and if he continue contumaciously in error, let him 
 be excommunicated." 
 
 The deacon then bade us farewell. During the 
 above consultation, my lesson for the morning was 
 totally unheeded. Two thoughts had for the first 
 time entered my mind. First, a rich member of the 
 church, honorable in the eyes of the world, may be 
 dissolute with impunity. SeconcUij^ it is not so hei- 
 nous an offence to break the seventh commandment, 
 as to affirm that there are not three persons in the 
 Godhead. Previous to this day, I had supposed that 
 those luitJiin were always not only superior in good- 
 ness to any persons outside of the church, but were 
 also invariably actuated by the principles of unsul- 
 lied honor, unswerving truth, and impartial justice 
 to all men, without regard to the distinctions of 
 wealth, rank, fashion, or office. It was painful to 
 give up my long-cherished and implicit faith in the 
 spotless purity of ministers and professors of reli- 
 gion. 
 
 Dr. Woods not only permitted, but urged me to 
 apply to him, whenever I needed assistance in solv- 
 ing difficult problems relating to theology, or the 
 interpretation of Scripture. A sermon had been 
 preached in the chapel, in support of the doctrine 
 of plenary inspiration, as it is called, or that the 
 original Bible was dictated by the infallible Spirit of 
 God — a standard of faith and practice in which there 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 35 
 
 was not a single error — nothing deficient and noth- 
 ing superfluous. The assertion was, that not only all 
 its thoughts came directly from Heaven, but even its 
 words ; that man had no more share, strictly speak- 
 ing, in producing the sacred Scriptures, than in cre- 
 ating seas, stars, or planets. Human hands, indeed, 
 inscribed the words on parchment, but they were 
 directed by a supernatural, resistless influence, so 
 that it was not in their power to record a syllable 
 but what was in accordance with the will of God. 
 
 A suspicion that this view of the subject was un- 
 true I had never before entertained for a moment. 
 It had been inculcated in my hearing from the nur- 
 sery up, by all those whom I listened to as oracles, 
 as teachers of indisputable authority. But the ser- 
 mon just referred to had the effect to set me think- 
 ing and doubting on the subject. Two difficulties 
 struck my mind. Was it possible that the disgust- 
 ing impurities and horrid imprecations recorded in 
 some parts of the Old Testament (for examples, see 
 Psalm cix., and twenty-third chapter of Ezckicl) 
 should have emanated from a being of infinite love 
 and holiness ? Further, it was admitted on all 
 sides, that the original manuscripts of the Bible arc 
 not in existence. Every copy now in the world 
 came from uninspired hands. Into our version, then, 
 or any other version extant, corruptions may have 
 crept, though its authors were ever so upright and 
 careful. 
 
 With hope and confidence, I applied to the doctor 
 to relieve me from these painful misgivings. I said 
 to myself, It is indeed a glorious privilege to be the 
 
36 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 
 
 member of an institution which can guide the anx- 
 ious, inquiring student through the intricacies of 
 error, and help him up the mountain of divine trutli, 
 " laborious, indeed, at the first ascent, but else so 
 smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospects and 
 melodious sounds on every side, that the harp of 
 Orpheus was not more charming." I thought that 
 if I could look at revealed religion aright, it would 
 appear to me only beautiful, grand, and harmonious. 
 The first objection was met by the remark, that " be- 
 cause God is infinite, we are not competent to sit 
 in judgment on the morality of his doings. Parts 
 of revelation may seem to contravene man's ideas of 
 refinement, honor, and rectitude. But God's thouglits 
 are not as our tJioug-hts, nor his ways as our icaijs. 
 What to the infinite One is fit, proper, and benev- 
 olent, may appear to short-sighted, sinful mortals 
 deformed, monstrous, unjust, and even malevolent. 
 It is enough for us to know that God is boundless 
 purity ; therefore, in the blessed volume which he 
 has mercifully vouchsafed to indite for our salvation, 
 and which is a transcript of himself, there cannot be 
 any thing corrupt or unholy. As it came from God, 
 every item of it must be Godlike, from the first 
 verse of Genesis to the last of the Apocalypse." 
 
 Such was the reasoning put forth to quiet my 
 doubts as to plenary inspiration ; to reconcile the 
 discrepant, to explain the absurd, and throw a haze 
 of moral beauty over passages inexpressibly abhor- 
 rent to my natural, unperverted taste and reason. 
 Notwithstanding my youth and inexperience, I then 
 felt, with all the force of intuition, that if God's sov- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 37 
 
 ereignty were divorced from what we arc compelled, 
 by the very constitution of our nature, to regard as 
 pure and righteous, then all the dearest interests 
 of mankind, for time and eternity, would be afloat 
 upon a boundless sea of doubt and peril ; and the 
 way wovdd be prepared for baptizing the foulest 
 despotism by the name of almighty and infinite 
 goodness. . 
 
 The second ol^jection was answered by advancing 
 a fixllacy. " True," said the great man, " all the 
 Bibles now in the world are but transcripts of an 
 original which vanished from the face of the earth 
 centuries ago. But from the infinite wisdom of 
 God, it follows that he would not suffer a book com- 
 posed by himself to fail of accomplishing the end for 
 which it was given. It is reasonable, then, to be- 
 lieve that the transcribers of the sacred volume, in 
 every age and place, have been the subjects of a 
 divine influence, qualifying them to set forth God's 
 word in the various languages spoken by man, ac- 
 cording to its primeval import and genuineness." 
 
 The above instances are fair samples of the so- 
 pliistical arguments employed to defend the peculiar 
 dogmas then taught at Andover. My desires to find 
 tlie trutli were most sincere and intense ; but instead 
 of being gratified, they were doomed to constant 
 disappointment. Reading and studying the pre- 
 scribed books and tlicses only served to thicken my 
 darkness and multiply my perplexities. The pro- 
 fessor said to mo one day, that my chief difficulties 
 undoubtedly arose from the fact that I had not been 
 thoroughly drilled in the principles of implicit faith. 
 4 
 
38 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 He defined implicit faitli to be " a tnisting- to the 
 word or autlwrity of another^ without doubting' or 
 reserve, or unthoiit examining' into the truth of the 
 thing' itself:' "The doctrine of the Trinity," he 
 remarked, " is inexplicable to human reason, and 
 fruitless attempts to solve the mystery may unsettle 
 one's faith, and plunge him into infidelity." 
 
 But was it not my mission at Andovcr^to investi- 
 gate truth, independent of human autliority, creeds, 
 and formulas? "No," said Dr. Woods, " your 
 proper business here is to learn to read the Bible 
 aright, and to receive its plain, undisputed assertions 
 with an unquestioning credence, as the oracles of 
 God. It is within the legitimate province of reason to 
 inquire, ^rs^, whether the Bible is divinely inspired ; 
 and secondly, what does it actually teach ? Fur- 
 ther than this you cannot go. Reason is not compe^ 
 tent to decide upon the philosophy of Scripture. 
 We receive tlie teachings of God, however strange 
 or incomprehensible they may appear to us, simply 
 because we know that he cannot utter an untruth." 
 
 These memorable sayings furnished a clew enabling 
 me to escape from tlie labyrintli in which I had been 
 long wandering. From tliat day to the present, the 
 object of all my researches has been to ascertain 
 whether God has actually spoken to the children of 
 men in the Bible, and what is the real import of the 
 communications therein addressed to us. I have 
 stood firmly iipon this platform for tlie last forty 
 years. 1 love the original Scriptures ; have read 
 them by day, and meditated thereon by night. 
 
 The study of the Bible, according to the most 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 39 
 
 approYcd rules of exegesis, has led me to repudiate 
 the theological views wliich were embraced at the 
 Aiidover Seminary when I lived there. They liave 
 also been repudiated virtually by the great body of 
 the New England churches. A milder and more ra- 
 tional faith prevails among the descendants of the 
 Puritans, than that of their stern, rugged forefathers. 
 Genuine Calvinism has died in the Northern States, 
 by a necessary and almost imperceptible decay. 
 Professor Stuart, of Andovcr, did more, in Ids time, 
 to bring about this revolution than Harvard Univer- 
 sity and all the Unitarian writings combined. 
 
 The opinion is quite common in the Southern and 
 Middle States, that evangelical religion of late has 
 suffered an alarming degeneracy among the peo}>le 
 of New England in general. These lugubrious 
 views are chiefly confined to clergymen of different 
 denominations — clergymen, too, most sincere, pious, 
 good, and charitable. They sec that some of the 
 long-established creeds and forms of our venerable 
 ancestors are fading away. Opinions wliich they 
 held sacred and essential are now not only contro- 
 verted, but denied and trampled under foot, by Uni- 
 tarian and other kindred sects. Multitudes look 
 upon this deviation from the ways of our predeces- 
 sors as the prolific parent of intemperance, libci'tin- 
 ism, ])rofanity, desecration of the Lord's day, and 
 other abominations. This is not to be wondered at. 
 The contemporaries of our Saviour were perfectly 
 honest in charging liimAvith the most odious offences 
 — irreverence towards God, dangerous heresies, in- 
 toxication, breaking the Sabbath, consorting with 
 
40 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 gluttons and wine bibbers, and preaching doctrines 
 which tended to latitudinarianism, and the sub- 
 version of all wholesome laws, both human and 
 divine. 
 
 I would say to all those clergymen who cherish 
 gloomy forebodings about the fate of revealed re- 
 ligion, that if you arc sincere in the belief that tlie 
 Bible came from God, you cannot consistently enter- 
 tain any apprehensions in regard to its accomplisliing 
 the ends for which it has been given to the world. 
 If a man, wlien gazing upon the sun in its sub- 
 limity, as it is sinlving below the horizon, should 
 say to you, " I am afraid we shall never see the sun 
 again — that it has set to rise no more ; " would you 
 not regard him as partially deranged — at least as 
 laboring under some strange hallucination ? How 
 much more absurd to be afraid lest man's folly and 
 delusions shall blot out the uncreated sun of right- 
 eousness, tliat illumines the moral universe with an 
 eternal radiance ! It is the promise of Jesus tliat 
 the gates of hell shall never overthrow the religion 
 of the New Testament. It will survive all the vicis- 
 situdes to which human society is liable, and demon- 
 strate its legitimate claims to that lofty character 
 which it assumes, as being not only the glorious, but 
 the everlasting- gospel of the blessed God. Wliat a 
 low estimate must that man form of Christianity 
 who supposes that it can be reasoned, legislated, 
 frowned, laughed, or ridiculed out of the world ! 
 
 Churcli history tells us of the rise, decline, and 
 disappearance of many denominations that, in tlieir 
 day, undoubtedly, were necessary and useful, and 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 41 
 
 represented the highest religious development of 
 which their respective votaries were capable. Could 
 the admirers of those ancient forms come back from 
 that unseen world, where pride, bigotry, and con- 
 tention will never be known, they would be able to 
 trace scarcely a resemblance between the ecclesias- 
 ticism of the present times and that mode of worship 
 and teaching to which their prayers, their writings, 
 their fortunes, and their lives had been devoted in 
 vain. But still, praised be God, revealed religion 
 has lost none of its original powers. And though 
 all the various sects that flourish in our day were 
 swept into oblivion, along with the accumiilatcd 
 rubbish carried down by the resistless surge of time, 
 Clu'istianity would live on in undecaying bloom and 
 beauty. Archbishop Whately says, " Christ did not 
 ordain an immutable outward style for administering 
 his religion, but left the machinery of its forms and 
 rules free, that, by a spontaneous unfolding, they 
 might accommodate themselves to the ever-varying 
 wants, taste, and progress of humanity. A system 
 wanting this freedom and flexibleness would carry 
 strong proof in itself that it did not emanate from 
 God. Different ages require different modes of wor- 
 ship and communion." 
 
 Geologists have proved that our globe, from the 
 beginning, has been constantly going through a suc- 
 cession of changes, while the principles by which it is 
 governed have always remained the same. So it is 
 with the church of Christ. In essence, it is the same 
 yesterday, and to-day, and forever. Yet it is con- 
 tinually manifesting itself in new and higher forms 
 4* 
 
42 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 of glory. The church evinces nowadays her love 
 for man in practical reforms never before attempted. 
 Think of what is doing among ns for the reforma- 
 tion of juvenile offenders ; for the improvement of 
 discharged convicts ; for the training of the blind, 
 the deaf, and the dumb. Think of those splendid 
 palaces, reared for the accommodation of the insane 
 and idiotic ; think of the numerous institutions for 
 the relief of widows and orphans ; for the benefit 
 of seamen ; for the promotion of temperance ; for 
 the suppression of war ; to ameliorate the condition 
 of prison houses ; and to exalt the state of the de- 
 pendent, industrial classes generally. Then we have 
 tract societies ; missionary enterprises ; the gratu- 
 itous distribution of Bibles and other books ; Sunday 
 schools, free libraries, lyceums, &c. ; by which pow- 
 erful instrumentalities the truths, hopes, and mo- 
 tives of the gospel are so wielded as not only to 
 secure the salvation of the young and inexperienced, 
 but also, in many cases, to arrest and reclaim hard- 
 ened and inveterate offenders. To assert that, under 
 such a multiplicity of divine means, — such a rich, 
 unprecedented array of appeals and agencies, — our 
 people are not advancing in religion and morality, 
 is just as absurd as to deny that the happiest system 
 of agriculture is adapted to increase the products of 
 our fields, or to deny that the best appliances of edu- 
 cation tend to promote the diffusion and increase of 
 knowledge. No creeds, no forms, are essential to 
 practical Christianity, but simply a life of pure, 
 humble, and systematic beneficence. The recogni- 
 tion of this principle, coeval with Jesus Christ, is a 
 
REV. THEODORE CLARP. 43 
 
 characteristic of the present age, and a cheering 
 proof that we have renounced fables for truth — 
 " have left the good old limes far behind, never to 
 see them again but in the retrospect of things gone 
 by." It is ushering in a brighter era, when Chris- 
 tianity will bear, in rich abundance, fairer flowers and 
 more delicious fruit than the world has ever yet tasted. 
 To me the principles of the gospel are unassaila- 
 ble and incomparable. They give us rules, hopes, 
 and consolations infinitely beyond the reach of 
 human philosophy. Take away this last and only 
 prop amidst the wreck of all earthly hopes and pos- 
 sessions, and to what shall the departing spirit clhig 
 for salvation, as it looks into the grave? It has no 
 Jesus to lean on ; it must sink in remediless agony 
 and despair. Human reason admires the truths of 
 the Christian revelation ; human experience affords 
 them her loud and uniform testimony, and they find 
 a congenial response in the affections of every noble 
 heart. What are these truths ? I would answer, 
 in general, the paternity of God ; the brotherhood 
 of man ; that true religion consists in piety, purity, 
 and disinterestedness, and an existence of immortal 
 blessedness for all mankind beyond the grave. 
 
 In October, 1817, license to preach the gospel was 
 given me, by an association of Congregational minis- 
 ters in my native county. A few weeks previous, I 
 had made an engagement to spend a year, in the 
 capacity of chaplain and teacher, to a private family, 
 in the neighl)orhood of Lexington, Kentucky. When 
 I reached the place of my destination, the Rev. Mr. 
 
44 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 Larnccl, my predecessor in the First Presbyterian 
 Church, New Orleans, was expected to arrive there 
 daily. His fame had preceded him as an eminent 
 pulpit orator. On a Saturday afternoon, advertise- 
 ments were posted along the streets and public 
 places, that he would preach in a certain pulpit the 
 next morning, at the usual hour of holding services. 
 Long before the appointed time, the house was com- 
 pletely filled, and multitudes sought in vain for an 
 admission. When he arose, and pronounced the 
 text, — "He is the propitiation for our sins," — 
 I thought that with such a subject, however ably 
 discussed, it Avould be entirely beyond his power to 
 answer the excited expectations of the audience. 
 But he had scarcely uttered half a dozen sentences, 
 before all fears of his failing vanished from my mind. 
 I was rapt, elevated, and carried away, in common 
 with others, by the charms of his singular and over- 
 powering eloquence, s I will present a brief sketch 
 of this remarkable sermon. 
 
 He began by saying, that " all acknowledged be- 
 cause all felt their need of a Saviour. Your lot, my 
 hearers, is cast in pleasant places, and you have a 
 goodly heritage ; your city is in the midst of regions 
 on which Nature lavishes her richest gifts. You 
 have all the comforts and elegances which wealth, 
 art, and refinement can bestow. Still the capacious 
 desires of yoiir immortal minds are not satisfied, 
 because they crave that higher and better good 
 which an outward world can neither give nor destroy. 
 Jesus came to point our eyes to the only and narrow 
 way that leadcth unto life. Your earthly posses- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 45 
 
 sions must perish. You may be great and powerful ; 
 magnificent in talents, designs, and achievements ; 
 admired, honored, and caressed by your contempora- 
 ries. Can such advantages save you ? — 
 
 ' The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
 
 And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, 
 Await alike the inevitable hour ; 
 
 The paths of glory lead but to the grave.' 
 
 " When vre reflect what human life is, however for- 
 tnnato ; wlicn we consider the ordinances and appoint- 
 ments, — the sudden alternations of health and sick- 
 ness, joy and sorrow ; these indescribable scenes of 
 endurance, privation, and bereavement ; these pain- 
 ful sunderings of the tics of affinity, friendship, and 
 affection that sadden our present existence, — how 
 obvious is it that the cross of Jesus is our only hope ! 
 For this makes it certain that the works of creation, 
 the events of life, and the destinies of a coming 
 world, are but the unfoldings of a Father's infinite 
 wisdom ; that whatever befalls us between the cradle 
 and the tomb, though so strange, inscrutable, and 
 trying, is working to issues great and glorious be- 
 yond the reach of thought and imagination. Jesus 
 came to assure us that the Power which brought 
 man into existence is eternal, boundless, uncreated, 
 and immutable love — a love that taketh care for 
 all ; not one is neglected ; that watcheth over all ; 
 that providcth for all ; for infancy, childhood, ma- 
 ture years, decrc})it age ; for Avant, for weakness, for 
 joy, and for sorrow, in every scene of this or another 
 life ; so that all forms of sin and evil shall fmally 
 
46 . AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 redound to the glory of God, and aid in accomplish- 
 ing the unsearchable wonders of redeemhig mercy 
 revealed in the gospel. The teachings of Christ 
 enable us to say all is good, all is well, all is right, 
 and shall be forever. Faith in Jesus, then, is an 
 inheritance, a refuge, and a rest for the soul, from 
 which the fates and fortunes of a mortal lot cannot 
 shake it. 
 
 "The gospel has abolished death, and brought to 
 light that spirit-land where the mysteries of earth will 
 be explained — the land of brightness and beatitude, 
 — tlie land of an immeasurable progress in wisdom 
 and glory — where, instead of trials, there will be only 
 triumphs ; instead of darkness, the effulgence of an 
 unveiled eternity ; instead of the bitter tears of sor- 
 row, the beamings of an ever-increasing joy beyond 
 the possibility of sin and temptation. ' Thanks be 
 unto God for his unspeakable gift.' What is death to 
 a true Christian ? It is the hour of release from the 
 burdens of mortality ; the hour of reunion with the 
 absent loved ones, who have gone before us ; the 
 hour when our inherent, irrepressible longings after 
 fairer forms of beauty, and more ecstatic degrees of 
 bliss than earth affords, will verge to their rich, ever- 
 lasting consummation. When I look on that cross, 
 illuminated by the radiance of God's own divinity, I 
 exclaim, How inexpressibly precious is the light it 
 sheds on our dark Avorld, opening a way for all 
 mankind through the gloomy shadows of sin and 
 sorrow, and through the dark gates of the tomb, to 
 the enjoyment of an inheritance incorruptible, un- 
 dcfilcd, and imfading ! " 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 47 
 
 I do not pretend to state the exact words of the 
 orator on this occasion, but the leading ideas of the 
 address, which were indelibly impressed on my 
 memory. He did not even allude to the doctrine of 
 Clu'ist's death being a substituted punishment, a 
 vicarious sacrifice to appease the divine wrath, in 
 order to make the salvation of mankind possible. 
 Passing by all the unintelligible points of controver- 
 sial theology touching the atonement, he presented 
 to view a beautiful and striking picture, which need- 
 ed only to be looked at to win admiration — a pic- 
 ture of man's frail, eventful life from the cradle to 
 the grave. The whole audience saw that the por- 
 trait was true to nature ; and every one present, in 
 spite of his creed, was made to feel that without the 
 hopes of the gospel he had no outward prop to lean 
 upon, no satisfying source of inward reliance, no 
 adequate object for his ever-expanding loves, and 
 no asylum to betake himself to in trouble, want, 
 peril, sickness, or the final hour. He did not dog- 
 matize about Jesus Christ, but produced in the hear- 
 ers a profound conviction, that without a Saviour 
 they were living in a fatherless and forsaken con- 
 dition, poor, benighted, trembling orphans, upon a 
 bleak and boundless waste, destitute, deserted, for- 
 lorn, and forsaken. The effect was wonderful. 
 Tears were shed by those who had never before wept 
 at the thought of all that is glorious and all that is 
 tremendous in the prospects of immortality. Many 
 of those seated in the pews at the beginning of the 
 sermon found themselves standing up at its close. 
 They performed the act of rising unconsciously. 
 
48 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Yet the entire delivery of that powerful discourse 
 did not occupy more than thirty minutes. I had the 
 honor of sitting in the pew of one of the most dis- 
 tinguished orators of Kentucky tlien living, "whose 
 son is now vice president of the United States. He 
 remarked, on coming out of church, " That was a 
 burst of natural eloquence infinitely superior to any 
 thing I ever heard l)efore, either in the pulpit, forum, 
 legislative hall, or popular assembly." 
 
 No doubt Mr. Larned's sermons were indebted for 
 much of their impressiveness to the striking superi- 
 ority of his personal charms and accomplishments. 
 A head of the most perfect outline ; the fire of ge- 
 nius flashing from large, prominent blue eyes ; 
 the fine features kindled up with intelligence ; a 
 symmetrical and Apollo-like form ; a deep-toned, nui- 
 sical, penetrating voice, whose whisper could be heard 
 through the largest audience ; and a general mien 
 unembarrassed, easy, and natural, at once graceful 
 and dignified, — conspired to bestow on him a com- 
 bination of natural advantages for speaking impres- 
 sively which very few of our race have ever pos- 
 sessed. A distinguished statesman, who for many 
 years was a meml^er of Congress, and familiar with 
 the first of American orators, remarked that " un- 
 til he had seen Mr. Larned he had never beheld in 
 the human form a perfect union of the sublime and 
 beautiful. His statue, if chiselled by the hand of a 
 Powers, w^ould be pronounced, by all competent 
 judges, to deserve a place among the finest models 
 in the galleries of either ancient or modern sculp- 
 ture." 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP, 49 
 
 Again, his eloquence was characterized by the 
 easy, simple, unstudied manner in which he deliv- 
 ered his thoughts. There were no marks of art and 
 labor either in what he said or in his mode of say- 
 ing it. He did not appear before an audience in the 
 air of an erudite, authoritative, pompous divine, 
 a formal, ex cathedra sermonizer, but as an earnest, 
 affectionate, loving friend, pouring forth the rich, 
 glowing, unpremeditated effusions of his heart with 
 the fulness and rapidity of a torrent, and with the 
 apparent artlessness and simplicity of a child. His 
 language was indeed rich and singularly appropriate. 
 He was full of metaphors, lively images, and pleas- 
 ing allusions ; but they flowed from him without 
 effort, and he seemed to speak as he did, in obedi- 
 ence to an irresistible impulse, because he could not 
 help it. Every one knows that simplicity is the 
 crowning ornament of the most effective eloquence. 
 It is that dress of nature without which all beauties 
 are imperfect, and fail of making a full and complete 
 impression. 
 
 The sermons of Mr. Larned were free from the 
 parade and dry technicalities of theological science. 
 He never manufactured a discourse out of general 
 and speculative propositions. He never couched the 
 truths of Jesus in abstract metaphysical terms. 
 Any child could comprehend his subject, words, ar- 
 guments, and illustrations. It is universally admit- 
 ted that no trait of good writing or speaking is more 
 important than perspicuity. Of what avail the eru- 
 dition and reasoning of the preacher, unless he be 
 clearly understood ? No ornaments can give lustro 
 6 
 
60 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 and beauty to a sermon when its language is ambig- 
 uous and its arguments are obscure. 
 
 Mr. Lamed had studied tlie vohuues of the human 
 heart and human life more attentively than the sombre 
 tomes of school divinity. Hence, though so young, 
 lie was enabled, in the happiest manner, to accom- 
 modate instructions to the different ages, conditions, 
 and characters of the diversified classes composing a 
 large, promiscuous audience. Each of those who 
 listened to him heard something that seemed par- 
 ticularly addressed to himself — exactly suited to his 
 trials, temptations, wants, sins, or sorrows. Tliose ser- 
 mons are not only most interesting, — most power- 
 fully occupy the imagination, — but also the most use- 
 ful, which advance what touches a person's habitual 
 conduct and cherished principles in every-day life. 
 They discover a sinner to himself in a light in 
 which he never saw his character before, and which 
 awakens within him the strongest desires to be deliv- 
 ered from bondage, and raised to a new and better 
 state. The object of every sermon should be to 
 persuade men to become good ; not to discuss some 
 abstruse theory ; to make a display of ingenuity and 
 acquirements ; nor to put forth startling novelties, 
 but to make the hearers better, to give them clearer 
 views, and more profound impressions of divine, 
 eternal truths. 
 
 Although the subject of these remarks was en- 
 dowed with the strongest sensibilities of soul and 
 loftiest powers of expression, he never allowed tlie 
 impetuosity of his feelings to transport him beyond 
 proper limits. The ardor of his genius never divert- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 51 
 
 ed his attention from the point of discussion, nor 
 betrayed him into any improprieties of look, man- 
 ner, or expression. His friends never had occasion 
 to remark, after leaving the church, that their pastor 
 in the unconscious fervor of the moment, had ut- 
 tered some imprudences, which an enemy or stranger 
 might turn to his personal disadvantage, or to the 
 detriment of the glorious cause which ho espoused. 
 This close attention to argument and propriety of 
 words, this self-command, this supremacy of rea- 
 son, this undeviating attention to the decorums of 
 time, place, and character, amidst the loftiest strains 
 of eloquence, was one of the most captivating and 
 persuasive charms of his pulpit exercises. 
 
 The manner of speaking, whose most prominent 
 traits have just been specified, is, in the strictest 
 sense of the phrase, a gift of nature. One could no 
 more acquire it by art and study than he could raise 
 the dead, or arrest the planets in their course. He 
 on whom it has been conferred speaks with the same 
 case with which he walks the ground or breathes the 
 air. 
 
 " Some beauties yet no precepts can declare, 
 For there's a happiness as well as care. 
 Preaching resembles poetry ; in each 
 Arc nameless graces which no methods teach, 
 And which a master hand alone can reach." 
 
 A perfectly correct, graceful, impassioned orator 
 is a phenomenon which the world seldom sees, since 
 so many extraordinary natural talents must concur 
 in his formation. But most public speakers might 
 be instructive and interesting, if they would only 
 
62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 follow nature, speak in public as they do in private, 
 and only when they have proper materials for a dis- 
 course, and have previously considered and digested 
 the subject. 
 
 We read that " the righteous perisheth and is for- 
 gotten." Why ? Because moral greatness is too 
 plain, quiet, and unostentatious to become the theme 
 and wonder, the gaze and admiration, of those who 
 live only for the evanescent possessions and pleas- 
 ures of time and sense. The exploits of the soldier, 
 though degraded as to moral character, may be bla- 
 zoned all over the civilized world, and go down on a 
 wave of glory to future times. The pens of learned 
 historians, the tuneful measures of the poet, the 
 eloquence of orators, the finest creations of the 
 pencil and the chisel, have often been employed to 
 perpetuate the name and achievements of bad men, 
 — oppressors and robbers, — whose lives appear only 
 hateful and infamous in the sight of the Christian 
 and philanthropist. But after all, clergymen have 
 no just cause to be dissatisfied with their peculiar 
 condition and allotments. If a minister of the gos- 
 pel be sincere and faithful, no matter how poor, op- 
 posed, persecuted, or despised he may be, yet he is, 
 in reality, among the happiest of our race. His lot 
 is preeminently glorious. Amidst the severest trials 
 he breathes the atmosphere of an immortal world. 
 The " soul's calm sunshine," nobleness of heart, 
 large attainments of wisdom, conscious peace and 
 virtue pure, open to him the sources of perennial, 
 sacred, and constantly increasing bliss. A clergy- 
 man who has no taste for his profession must lead a 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 58 
 
 life of degradation and wretcliedness. Of all men 
 living, a hypocrite in the pulpit is, perhaps, the most 
 mean, odious, and unhappy. 
 
 I remember my intercourse with Mr. Larned with 
 peculiar satisfaction. I was personally and inti- 
 mately acquainted with him. We were classmates 
 at the university for one quarter. Our rooms were 
 adjacent, and I saw him every day under all the va- 
 rious phases which a collegiate life presents. There 
 was a correspondence between us during his resi- 
 dence in New Orleans. Tlie last letter which I re- 
 ceived from him was written but a few days previous 
 to his death. These circumstances, with a deep 
 sense of the wonderful superiority of his native ge- 
 nius, make me anxious, if possible, by this brief 
 notice, to rescue his name from absolute oblivion. 
 
 No man was ever more agreeable in the social 
 circle. Though he was a great talker, yet no one 
 ever felt in his company that he talked to gratify 
 pride or pedantry, or for vain show of any kind. He 
 would often charm the listeners who hung on his 
 words, and even move them to tears, when he seemed 
 quite as unconscious of the power he was exercising, 
 as a child engaged in thoughtless prattle with sur- 
 rounding playmates. It was often said that he was 
 as affable and social among the vulgar, illiterate, and 
 profane, as when conversing with more congenial spir- 
 its. Yet his conversation was always unexceptiona- 
 ble in a moral point of view. A gentleman, travelling 
 with him on a steamboat, observed that he conversed 
 often with the crew, the deck passengers, and even 
 with certain persons who were known to be professed 
 5* 
 
54 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 gamblers. Some present thought this freedom was 
 very improper in a clergyman. He excused himself 
 by saying that all men arc equal in the sight of God ; 
 that he felt bound to bo civil and kind to every per- 
 son within his reach, irrespective of character ; that 
 the most humble and ignorant individual on board 
 might communicate to him, if an opportunity were 
 offered, some fact or item of experience which would 
 suggest useful thoughts for the discourse which he 
 expected to preach the next morning. It was a noble 
 observation, and the practice that it implied doubt- 
 less contributed materially to increase his knowledge 
 of human nature, and the uncommon skill which he 
 displayed in touching the sensibilities of those whom 
 he addressed. How often are the piety and learn- 
 ing of clergymen absolutely inefficient from their 
 want of a thorough knowledge of men, and a more 
 extensive acquaintance with the world ! 
 
 Whilst in New Orleans, Mr, L. was in the hal)it of 
 receiving visitors as guests at the breakfast or dinner 
 table. This was done to save time. In this manner 
 he formed an acquaintance with a large circle of gen- 
 tlemen, both Americans and Creoles, belonging to 
 other denominations. On one occasion the Catholic 
 clergy of New Orleans, in a body, partook of his 
 hospitalities. It is thought by many that his out- 
 door influence did more good than all his labors in 
 the pulpit. Although his susceptible and finely attem- 
 pered constitution was so social in its tendencies, — 
 although he was so youthful, l)uoyant in spirits, full 
 of the sallies of wit, humor, and anecdote, — yet he 
 always maintained inviolate the dignity and propri- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 65 
 
 etics of the clerical vocation. No one ever accused 
 him of saying or doing any thing unbecoming the 
 character of a clergyman. 
 
 When Mr. Larned was only eighteen years of age, 
 he had occasion to journey from Pittsfield, Massa- 
 chusetts, his native town, to Albany, New York, in 
 the stage. On the way, a lively conversation was 
 kept up among the passengers, on a great variety of 
 topics. At the hotel where they stopped for the 
 night, an English traveller of the highest intelligence, 
 inquiring the name and profession of Mr. L., ob- 
 served, " Among the persons of all countries whom 
 I have seen, that young man shines most in conver- 
 sation, and possesses the greatest powers of elo- 
 quence." Such was the impression which he uni- 
 versally made on educated men of every name and 
 nation, Avho came within the reach of his fascinating 
 powers. 
 
 One of the attendant physicians of the Charity 
 Hospital, who was living when I first went to New 
 Orleans, told me that during the awful epidemic of 
 1820, Mr. Larned almost daily visited that institu- 
 tion, up to the very week of his death. He passed 
 much of his time in the abodes of sorrow, want, and 
 bereavement. In him the widow and orphan, the 
 sick and forsaken, the destitute stranger and seaman, 
 the tenant of the hospital, and the criminal chained 
 down in his dungeon under sentence of death, found 
 a warm-hearted, efficient friend. In the epidemic of 
 which he was a victim, August 31, 1820, he called 
 on the church treasurer one morning for pecuniary 
 assistance, saying that his means were exhausted, 
 
56 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 
 
 and nothing appeared to him more inconsistent than 
 to pray for the sick and dying, withont furnishing 
 them with the snppUes whicli their physical wants 
 demanded. To a physician who urged him to flee 
 from the destructive pestilence, he said, " I may lose 
 my life by staying here this summer, but I cannot 
 leave without violating my most imperative convic- 
 tions of duty. Death does not seem so great an 
 evil as that of deserting my post to escape the yellow 
 fever." Was there ever a more beautiful oifering 
 laid on the altar of benevolence, religion, or patri- 
 otism ? 
 
 When I reflect upon the charms of the character 
 but faintly sketched in the above remarks, its unsid- 
 lied honor, unswerving truth, and unflinching faith- 
 fulness, its noble, self-sacrificing, disinterested, and 
 magnanimous spirit, I feel how unfounded and un- 
 just is the sneering, disparaging insinuation of the 
 sceptic, that there is no reality in virtue ; that it is but 
 a pleasing fiction, a poetic dream. I thank Heaven 
 that the light of heroism and religion has shone 
 more or less brightly on all the preceding genera- 
 tions of men. It is my happiness to believe that 
 goodness exists in every latitude and longitude ; 
 tliat every where througliout the wide field of hu- 
 manity, tlie roses of virtue bloom ; that in every 
 community are those who are good because they love 
 goodness ; good in the inmost recesses of their hearts, 
 good in their most retired and secluded hours, when 
 no eye but that of the Omniscient beholds them. 
 Yes, there are hearts in the worst neighborhoods on 
 the banks of the Mississippi, and among the rufhans 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 57 
 
 (to use the parlance of the day) on our border set- 
 tlements, whose sympathies are warm, generous, and 
 noble. In every class of my fellow-beings, for the 
 last forty years, I have met persons enamoured of the 
 charms of moral excellence. I have found those 
 who, though poor and illiterate, born and reared 
 beyond the sphere of church influences, manifested 
 in their daily deportment the forgiving spirit of the 
 gospel, (the sublimest form of holiness;) who, amid 
 scorn, insult, injuries, and misrepresentation, ex- 
 pressed neither in the countenance, nor by words, 
 nor by actions, the principles of scorn, hatred, or 
 retaliation. I have seen mothers grow more kind, 
 gentle, subdued, and forbearing, in proportion to the 
 unfaithfulness, the cruel neglect, and unthankfulncss 
 with which they were treated by the members of their 
 own households, partners and children. Every day 
 have I been struck with the proofs, not of man's na- 
 tive corruption, but of his original rectitude and 
 glory. God made human nature. If it docs not 
 work out the results whicli he intended, must he not 
 look upon mankind with feelings of sorrow and dis- 
 appointment ? 
 
 Tuesday succeeding the Sabbath on which ]\Ir. 
 Lamed delivered the discourse which has been al- 
 ready described, I rode with him from Lexington to 
 Frankfort, the capital of the state. After our arri- 
 val, he was invited to preach the same evening, at 
 seven o'clock, before the legislature of Kentucky. 
 In this body were several gentlemen whose names 
 had been famous throughout the Union, and who 
 had been representatives and senators in Congress. 
 
58 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 The news of his successful effort at Lexington had 
 reached the place before him, and raised high expec- 
 tations. When Mr. Larned arose to read the hymn, 
 a person who sat near me said, " If tliat boy can 
 utter any thing about religion to enchain the atten- 
 tion of this thoughtless, ungodly crowd, I shall con- 
 fess indeed that he is a prodigy of eloquence." 
 
 When Mr. Larned announced his subject, it 
 seemed to me most unsuited to the place, hearers, 
 and occasion. These words were his text : " He 
 that believeth on the Sou of God hath the 'witness in 
 himself.'''' The topic discussed was, the evidences of 
 Christianity — a topic presenting a vast, boundless 
 field of thought. How could he even enter upon it, 
 I said to myself, in the short space of a single ser- 
 mon ? After I went to my room, I made the follow- 
 ing memoranda in my note book, giving not so much 
 the exact words of the discourse as its leading 
 thoughts. " Not one person in a hundred thousand," 
 said the orator, " has the mind and means, books 
 and leisure, requisite to investigate the truth of the 
 Bible upon logical principles. But there is one way 
 by which all, however weak and unlettered, may 
 arrive at satisfying convictions on this subject, with- 
 out examining the external proofs, documents, and 
 objections appertaining to the divinity of the Scrip- 
 tures. 
 
 " Is there one in this audience who has doubts as to 
 the heavenly origin of Christianity ? Act upon the 
 platform of the text, and your unbelief will grad- 
 ually and imperceptibly give way, as the bright and 
 balmy effulgence of morn dispels the mist and dark- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 59 
 
 ness of night. When you rise from your bed to- 
 morrow morning, read a few verses of the Sermon 
 on the Mount, or some devotional part of the Old 
 Testament ; then, kneehng down, offer to Heaven a 
 sincere prayer tliat you may be guided through the 
 trials, duties, and perils of the day by the spirit and 
 principles of what you have just read in his word. 
 Go forth, and act as nearly as you can in conformity 
 with your matin orisons. Do this with all your soul 
 every day forward, and before the expiration of the 
 present year you will have imbibed unconsciously 
 the elements of a true religious faith. You will feel 
 the divinity of the Bible, though you may not be 
 able to argue the question with the sceptic. ' With 
 the heart man believeth unto salvation.' Praying 
 sincerely, and acting accordingly, will cause your 
 soul to be warmed with the beams of a Creator's 
 love. 
 
 " You will then ' have the witness in your own 
 bosoms,' that revealed religion is a celestial, refresh- 
 ing stream from the inexhaustible Fountain of life. 
 In this way, you may acquire a faith of a more ada- 
 mantine firmness, a more intimate and unwavering 
 conviction, than any variety or amount of reading, 
 study, and scholastic attainments could inspire, un- 
 accompanied by prayer and a good life. There is 
 no royal road to heaven. The king and his sub- 
 jects, the noble and ignoble, the wise and the ig- 
 norant, the master and the slave, can commune 
 "with God, and feel his inspiration, only as they lead 
 prayerful, humble, just, pure, and conscientious lives. 
 As to the unspeakably important subject of personal 
 
60 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 religion, the decisive question is not, What are your 
 thoughts, researches, philosophy, or creeds ? but, 
 What are your lives ? Only those who do the vs^ill 
 of God can have true faith in him. This evening, 
 you have, perhaps, youth, bloom, friends, opulence, 
 power, and all that a worldly taste most covets. But 
 reflect, I beseech you, how soon these shadows must 
 vanish. When the days of darkness shall arrive, 
 when affliction and bereavement shall sink down like 
 an incubus upon your hearts, when the stern reali- 
 ties of life shall have scattered your visionary hopes, 
 — and that time must soon come, — you will be the 
 victims of unrelieved gloom, misgiving, and despair, 
 unless sustained and soothed by an unfaltering trust 
 in that almighty, infinite, eternal, and unchanging 
 love, revealed in the person, mission, teachings, mir- 
 acles, death, and resurrection of the Son of God." 
 
 These thoughts were recommended by all the 
 charms of a natural, easy, graceful, dignified, and 
 solemn manner, pronounced with tones and varia- 
 tions of voice clear, full, and melodious as the 
 strains of the richest music. 
 
 This sermon was but twenty-five minutes in length. 
 It is impossible to describe the effect it produced. It 
 was a universal observation, " We never heard any 
 thing like that from the pulpit before." The remark 
 was strictly applicable to my own feelings. Indeed, 
 Mr. Larned gave me new ideas about the best mode 
 of preaching. I learned from him the utter worth- 
 lessness of mere doctrinal, controversial sermons. 
 He delivered two addresses on topics concerning 
 which there is the greatest diversity of opinion in 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 61 
 
 the Christian world ; yet in these sermons he did 
 not so much as alhidc to any of the popular dogmas 
 of the day. One could not have divined, from any 
 thing which he said, to what particular sect he 
 belonged. His appeals embraced only truths that 
 are undisputed and indisputable — truths that strike 
 a chord which God has strung in every human heart. 
 
 I have been a traveller in the old world. It left 
 upon my soul an impression of mighty things, which 
 will forever remain in my mind — the ineffaceable 
 images of grandeur. I have crossed the Alps, and 
 looked down upon those lovely vales that derive an 
 increased beauty from the stupendous objects around 
 them. I have seen the glories of Europe — its cities, 
 palaces, castles, cathedrals, gardens, and galleries of 
 art. But none of these objects do I remember with 
 as deep emotions of wonder, admiration, and delight, 
 as the preeminent genius, and the noble, disin- 
 terested conduct, of that young, fearless missionary, 
 who laid down his life to add another church to the 
 temples of the living God in New Orleans. 
 
 Mr, Larned entered Williams College, in his na- 
 tive state, when only fourteen years of age. He 
 studied theology at the seminaries of Andover and 
 Princeton, and commenced his professional life in 
 the spring of 1817, being about twenty years of age. 
 He died on the 31st of August, 1820, — a victim of 
 the yellow fever, — in the morning of life, and to 
 human view, just entering iipon a brilliant -and use- 
 ful career. 
 
62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FIRST TRIP DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI. — WALNUT HILLS. — 
 
 GENERAL APPEARANCE OF THE COAST. CHARACTER 
 
 OF STEPHEN POYDRAS, ESQ., THE PHILANTHROPIST. 
 
 ARRIVAL AT NEW ORLEANS. 
 
 In the winter of 1821, I left Louisville for New 
 Orleans, to preach a few weeks, as I have before 
 mentioned, in the pulpit of the First Presbyterian 
 Church, which had been vacated by the death of ]\Ir. 
 Larned. The waters were high, and the steamboat 
 on which I embarked moved with great speed. In 
 less than a week I was wafted beyond regions where 
 the ice and snow still held dominion, into the tem- 
 perature, verdure, fragrance, and beauty of spring. 
 The effect of such a sudden transition was enchant- 
 ing. On the borders of the river we saw but one 
 small town, (New Madrid,) between the mouth of 
 the Ohio and Warrenton, in the State of Mississippi. 
 Just before reaching this place we were cheered with 
 the green tops of the Walnut Hills, where Vicksburg 
 now stands. They were then beautiful and rich 
 eminences, covered with an abundance of those trees 
 whose name they bear. It was not till some years 
 afterwards that the first house was erected on these 
 bluff's. 'To-day it is the site of a large commercial 
 city, from which vast quantities of cotton are shipped ; 
 whose broad streets, handsome public buildings, and 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. (58 
 
 numerous churches, show that its inhabitants are 
 intelligent, refined, opulent, and liberal. 
 
 In the rear of this city, the country is rich and 
 beautiful, the hills crowned with neat houses, the 
 valleys and plains presenting a landscape of almost 
 continuous and highly-cultivated plantations. In 
 New England, many persons think that this part of 
 the south has a pojjulation almost semi-barbarous 
 — characterized by lawlessness, profanity, desecra- 
 tion of the Sabbath, gambling, intemperance, and 
 deeds of sanguinary violence. This impression arose 
 from the setting up of a few isolated instances of dis- 
 order and bloodshed, which found their way into the 
 newspapers, and sent a thrill of horror throughout 
 the Union. I have travelled extensively in the 
 State of Mississippi, and can testify that, all things 
 considered, — the lateness of its admission into the 
 confederacy, the various disadvantages and hindcr- 
 ances in the progress of a frontier settled by an aggre- 
 gation of adventurers from all quarters of the civil- 
 ized world, — it is not inferior even to Massachusetts 
 or Connecticut in the manifestations of moral excel- 
 lence, truth, honor, justice ; a patriotism willing 
 to die for the land it loves ; a philanthropy that is 
 ready to pour out its treasures and its life for the 
 common weal. 
 
 Here we began to discover the magnolia grandi- 
 flora, an ever-verdant laurel, with its thick, soft, dark 
 foliage and fragrant flowers, which do not put forth 
 at once, but bloom in succession for a long time. 
 It was delightful, after having passed through an 
 unbroken, inundated wilderness for nearly eight 
 
64 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 hundred miles, to come suddenly into the climate of 
 the palmetto or fan palm, the China tree and ca- 
 talpa, the wild honeysuckle and jessamine. Here, 
 in the month of March, the wild wood displays such 
 a variety of flowers of every scent and hue, that the 
 gale is charged with fragrance, as if wafting odors 
 from " Araby the Blest." On our left hand was an 
 almost uninterrupted line of bluffs, between two and 
 three hundred miles, commencing at Walnut Hills 
 and terminating at Baton Rouge ; either bounding 
 the river, or receding far enough from the shore to 
 afford bottom lands, which have long since been con- 
 verted into luxuriant, widely-extended cotton planta- 
 tions. They have an endless variety of figure, and 
 are crowned with beech, hickory, and holly trees. 
 Even to this day, the traveller beholds no dwellings 
 on these finely rounded eminences, because, in the 
 apparently salubrious breezes of summer, by which 
 they are fanned, there lurks a malaria mucli more 
 noxious to health and life than that which hangs 
 over the low, swampy lands at their bases. 
 
 On the right hand shore was the same forbidding 
 scenery that had filled our entire horizon for several 
 days — impervious, tangled, sunken, interminable 
 forests ; the crape, the funereal drapery of long moss, 
 completely covering the branches, and sometimes 
 the whole trunks of the trees ; boundless ranges of 
 cypress, live oak, and malaria — the favorite haunts 
 of alligators, moccason snakes, mosquitoes, and other 
 nameless, most abhorred species of animated nature. 
 I said to myself. If there are '■'• fauces orcV^ — an en- 
 trance to the lower world — in our country, it must 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 65 
 
 be somewhere in these dismal, marshy tracts, more 
 hateful than the fabled Styx of Grecian mythology. 
 Now, after a lapse of thirty-five years, — in ascending 
 or descending the river, — yon see on the same shore, 
 every two or three miles, a splendid plantation, with 
 the usual appurtenances. When a stranger inquires 
 the use and object of a cluster of little buildings — 
 neat white cottages lying about the principal house 
 — he is told that they are the habitations of the 
 laborers. There tlie negroes live in separate fami- 
 lies. Each of them has as good a dwclhng, furniture, 
 table, and other physical accommodations, as the 
 great body of laborers in the free states. True, they 
 are not as elevated in the scale of intelligence and 
 enterprise ; if they were, they woidd not be slaves. 
 It is not in the power of man to meliorate their con- 
 dition so long as their intellectual and moral devel- 
 opment remains unchanged. 
 
 A little below the city of Natchez, on the western 
 shore, commences that artificial mound of earth called 
 " the levee," of considerable elevation, and extend- 
 ing down to the neighborhood of the Balize. Were 
 it not for these mounds, the rich, beautiful, and pro- 
 ductive strip of soil, called " the coast," would be 
 annually inundated and incapable of cultivation. 
 The word coaat is used to designate the land border- 
 ing the Mississippi River, for two or three hundred 
 miles above its mouth. At Point Coupe, the coast 
 commences wearing the aspect of a country which 
 has long been beautified by the plastic hand of 
 skilful agriculture. Here, too, you begin to see 
 extensive orange groves, intermingled with the wide- 
 6* 
 
66 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 spreading and verdant branches of that venerable 
 tree, the live oak — the monarch of southern for- 
 ests. Here, too, you see that magnificent plant, 
 which the French call " peet," with its foliage per- 
 fectly green during the winter, and the extremities 
 of its leaves terminating with thorny points. 
 
 In this village, our attention was directed to the 
 mansion of Stephen Poydras, Esq., a gentleman wlio 
 was alike distinguished for his wealth, personal ex- 
 cellence, and public charities. Good people, I said 
 to myself, must live all over the world ; for they are 
 found here in the midst of an old settlement of 
 French Catholics and slaveholders, where a Protestant 
 minister was never seen, and where the Catechism of 
 the Westminster Assembly of divines was never 
 taught. With this gentleman I became intimately 
 acquainted. A more pious, upright, self-denying, 
 humble, generous man never lived. He was every 
 whit as good as the late Amos Lawrence, of Boston, 
 and quite as charitable. But has the name of Poy- 
 dras been blazoned through our land ? Did any one 
 ever pronounce his eulogy in Faneuil Hall, or in any 
 of the New England pulpits ? 
 
 0, no ; he was a Frenchman and a slaveholder. 
 " Can any good thing come out of Nazareth ? " Yet, 
 in every respect, Poydras was not inferior to the 
 greatest of those philanthropists whose lives have 
 shed such an undying lustre upon the land of the 
 Puritans. He endowed an orphan asylum in New 
 Orleans, which will bear down his name forever. It 
 is called after him. It was the only institution of 
 the kind in the city in 1821. In the dreadful epi- 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 67 
 
 demic of the succeeding year, it took in liimdrcds 
 of destitute orphans, tliat might otherwise have per- 
 islied. He gave the proceeds of a very handsome 
 property, amounting, I beUeve, to twenty thousand 
 dollars per annum, to be distributed in marriage por- 
 tions to a number of poor girls in the parish of Point 
 Coupe and the adjoining parishes. He gave, in par- 
 ticular, a rich endowment to the school of the dis- 
 trict where he lived, besides various other magnifi- 
 cent charities, which I have not space to mention. 
 Let the really great have their names written on 
 pillars more durable than brass, — 
 
 '* Higher than pyramids, that rise 
 With royal pride to brave the skies ; 
 Nor years, though numberless the train, 
 Nor flight of seasons, wasting rain. 
 Nor winds, that loud in tempests break, 
 Shall e'er their firm foundations shake." 
 
 All the material glories of earth will one day van- 
 ish " like the baseless fixbric of a vision." The ele- 
 ments will waste even the marble of our tombs, and 
 our worldly achievements be lost in everlasting for- 
 getfulness ; but those beneficent deeds by which we 
 kindle smiles on the face of helpless orphanage, 
 decrepit age, or indigent manhood, — by which we 
 impart wisdom to the erring, give light, encourage- 
 ment, and consolation to those who are sinking be- 
 neath the allotments of a mysterious Providence, — 
 will never die. Instinct with the spirit of a divine 
 life, they Avill cross the theatre of time, and the gulf 
 of death, and grow more beautiful through the 
 countless ages of an unending existence. 
 
68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 Below Point Coupe, the banks on both sides of 
 the river are uniform. The levee is continuous. 
 The cultivation of cotton, rice, and sugar cane is 
 regular and universal. The breadth of the cultivat- 
 ed lands is generally two miles — a perfectly uniform 
 strip, conforming to the shape of the river, and every 
 where bounding the deep forests of the Mississippi 
 swamp with a precise line. For two hundred miles, 
 plantation touches plantation. I have seen in no 
 part of the United States, not excepting the Connec- 
 ticut River, a more ricli and highly cultivated tract 
 of the same extent. It far exceeds that on the banks 
 of the Delaware. Noble private residences, massive 
 sugar houses, neat villas, and numerous negro quar- 
 ters succeed each other in such a way that the whole 
 distance has the appearance of one uninterrupted 
 village. The mansion houses are spacious and airy, 
 some of them costly and splendid, situated in the 
 midst of orange groves and pretty gardens, in which 
 abound the delicious cape jessamine, miiltitudes of 
 altheas, bowers of the multifiora rose, and a great 
 variety of vines and flowering shrubs peculiar to this 
 climate of perpetual verdure and loveliness. The 
 fields, the gardens, the fine houses, the sugar man- 
 ufactories, &c., apparently move past you as you 
 descend, like the images in a magic lantern. 
 
 You see, too, that this whole region is not destitute 
 of the forms and institutes of Christian worship. 
 The Catholics have numerous churches along the 
 coast, and the spires, seen at the intervals of every 
 six or seven miles, cheer the eyes of all who are not 
 sceptics or bigots. Emerging suddenly from the 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. CO 
 
 sombre, sunken, moss-clad scenery of the Upper Mis- 
 sissippi into these enchanting regions of cultnre, 
 wealth, and beauty, I Avas greatly excited. 
 
 On a beautiful morning near the close of February, 
 ^we were landed at Lafayette, where the boat stopped 
 to discharge a part of her cargo, about three miles 
 above New Orleans. The passengers, impatient of 
 delay, concluded to walk to the city. Leaving the 
 levee, we took a circuitous route through unenclosed 
 fields, which a few years before had belonged to a 
 large sugar plantation. They were adorned with a 
 carpet of green grass, where herds and flocks grazed 
 in common. Here and there we passed a farm house 
 in the midst of gardens, luxuriant shrubbery, and 
 orange groves. The fruit was thickly scattered along 
 the ground, like apples in the orchards of New Eng- 
 land, when autumn pours forth her ample stores. 
 The air wtis cool, inspiring, and scented with the 
 blowers of early spring. The music of the thrush, 
 and various other species of singing birds, saluted 
 our ears with their sweetest notes. All things, as 
 far as our eyes could reach, seemed like a paradise. 
 These suburbs, then so radian^vith rural charms, 
 are now the site of a large portion of the buildings 
 belonging to New Orleans, and contain, at the lowest 
 computation, eighty thousand inhabitants. 
 
 With the beautiful and soothing sensations which 
 such a morning and such scenery naturally awaken, 
 my fu'st entrance was made to the metropolis of 
 Louisiana. I was cordially welcomed, and well pro- 
 vided for. The trustees formally waited upon me in 
 a body. They struck me as being remarkably line- 
 
70 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 looking gentlemen, with polished manners, and well- 
 informed, but so cheerful, easy, natural, and agreea- 
 ble in their conversation, that I concluded at once 
 that they were not communicants of the Presbyterian 
 church. In the course of our interview, I asccr- • 
 tained that such Avas indeed the fact. Not one of 
 the number was a Creole of New Orleans. They 
 were immigrants from various quarters of the Unit- 
 ed States and Europe, who had been led to unite in 
 establishing a church for Mr. Larned, not to gratify 
 any sectarian preferences, but to enjoy the society 
 and teaching of one whom they admired for his per- 
 sonal qualifications only — his extraordinary genius, 
 learning, and eloquence. They were so enthusiastic 
 in their praises of my predecessor, that I not only 
 despaired of being able, in any tolerable manner, to 
 fill liis place, but I felt that it would be presumption 
 to make even an attempt to address an audience that 
 had been accustomed to such an elevated style oft 
 pulpit exercises. I told them plainly that such were 
 my feelings, and Ijcgged them to excuse me from 
 preaching at all. T^o of tliem immediately replied, 
 " We once heard you preach at a watering place in 
 Kentucky, and if you preach now as well as you did 
 then, the people of New Orleans will be more than 
 satisfied — they will be highly pleased." The occa- 
 sion referred to has been already mentioned. 
 
 The next day — Wednesday — I wasJnvited to 
 dine with Dr. Davidson, g^n eminent physician, who 
 belonged to the board of trustees. There were no 
 gentlemen present but those of the medical pro- 
 fession. The company comprised all the American 
 
KEY. THEODORE CLAPP. 71 
 
 practitioners then in the place. They did not num- 
 ber, I thinlv, more than half a dozen. The two 
 doctors were present who attended Mr. Larncd on 
 his death bed. He had opened his church every 
 Sunday from the beginning of the epidemic, though 
 all his friends importuned him, in the strongest 
 terms, to desist from his labors, and to repair to the 
 pine hills, on the other side of Lake Pontchar train, 
 where the yellow fever had never been known. 
 
 " Last summer," said Mr. Larned, " when the epi- 
 demic broke out, I followed your advice, and ran 
 away into the country. In my absence, both the 
 Frcncli and English newspapers animadverted on 
 the course which I took, and inquired if it were con- 
 sistent with the character and obligations of a Prot- 
 estant clergyman to desert his i)Cople in periods of 
 calamity and general suffering. Catholic priests 
 always remain at their posts, whatever perils assail 
 them. I felt in my heart that these criticisms were 
 just, and resolved that I would never leave New 
 Orleans again in a sickly season. I must adhere to 
 this resolution. Duty is ours, events are God's. 
 Surely, a minister in his vocation should feel the en- 
 nobling principle of honor not less acutely than a 
 military hero. The soldier of the cross should al- 
 ways act on the motto, ' Victor// or dccil/t.'' It is as 
 ignominious for a clergyman to flee from the approach 
 of disease, as for an ofiicer of an army to skulk on 
 the field of battle." 
 
 In harmony with this sublime sense of duty, my 
 predecessor encountered the epidemic of 1820. For 
 more than t^yo months, he exposed himself, wherever 
 
72 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 the line of his profession called, to the shafts of the 
 dread enemy. From morning to night he was occu- 
 pied with the sick and tlie dying, and in attending 
 funerals. Unsolicited he walked through the wards 
 of the Charity Hospital every twenty-four hours. 
 The 27th day of August Mr. Lamed preached his 
 last discourse, at eleven o'clock, A. M. The weather 
 was beautiful, and the audience unusually large for 
 the season. It was observed that his countenance 
 was remarkably florid, as if flushed by some preter- 
 natural excitement. His delivery was uncommonly 
 animated and eloquent. This fact was noticed by 
 the whole congregation. His text was Philippians 
 i. 21, " For to me to live is Christ, and to die is 
 gain." 
 
 " "We never heard him speak before," said Dr. 
 Davidson, " with equal impressivcncss and solemnity. 
 In contrasting the burdens, frailties, and sufferings 
 of a mortal lot with the glories of immortality, he 
 seemed to be inspired. The bosoms of his hearers 
 were stirred with the strongest emotions of delight, 
 wonder, and astonishment. He intimated that his 
 own work on earth might be drawing to a close. 
 ' I am ready,' said he, ' to meet a final hour ; to 
 take a last look at the countenances of beloved rela- 
 tives and friends ; to see this fair and glorious scene 
 of sublunary shadows no more. For I have been 
 made certain through Jesus, that the universe of my 
 Father stretches far away beyond the islands, shores, 
 and oceans of earth's spreading continents. As I 
 see this audience with my bodily vision, so with the 
 eye of faith do I now gaze upon those higher regions, 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 73 
 
 where disembodied spirits are expatiating over the 
 verdant, smiling iields of an everlasting life — a life 
 unassailable by disease, toil, pain, infirmity, sin, 
 temptation, or death. To me there is nothing dark 
 or desolate in the entrance to a world of spirits. 0, 
 let me die, that I may go and live forever ! 0, wel- 
 come, thrice welcome the hour when the portals of 
 the tomb shall open to receive these mortal remains, 
 and the light of a better world shall break in upon 
 my forgiven, redeemed, and emancipated spirit!' 
 I do not mean to intimate that the above were the 
 precise words used by Mr. Larned, but the general 
 strain and import of his peroration, as described to 
 me by many, who were present on the occasion. 
 
 " As soon as I came out of church," said Dr. Da- 
 vidson, " I met a circle at the door, conversing about 
 the sermon. All remarked the unusual redness of 
 our pastor's face, and the unearthly eloquence of his 
 words. In a few moments after reaching my resi- 
 dence, a message came that Mr. Larned was taken ill 
 on his way home from church, and Avantcd to see me 
 immediately. I obeyed the summons without delay. 
 On inquiry, I found that he had been seized with a 
 severe chill and pain in the back, — the invariable 
 precursors of the yellow fever, — before daylight Salv 
 bath morning. He ate nothing at breakfast, but 
 drank two or three cups of strong coffee to relieve 
 his head, before entering the pulpit. This stimulus, 
 together with that of speaking, tended greatly to 
 aggravate his fever. His symptoms were most lui- 
 favorable. 
 
 " ' Doctor,' he inquired, ' do you call this the 
 7 
 
74 AUTOBIOGRAPPIY OF 
 
 yellow fever ? ' I replied, ' Your complaint is not yet 
 sufficiently developed to enable me to give a posi- 
 tive answer to your question. By to-morrow we shall 
 know better about it.' I passed most of the after- 
 noon and evening with him. He grew worse rapidly. 
 Early Monday morning, in a paroxysm of great suf- 
 fering, he repeated the question, ' Doctor, have I got 
 the yellow fever ? Do not deceive me ; I am pre- 
 pared to know the whole truth.' And the truth was 
 told him. ' I have another request to make,' he 
 said — ' that whenever you consider me beyond the 
 hope of recovery, you will let me know it.' 
 
 " The next day, on Tuesday, it became obvious 
 that he could not live many hours. I remarked to 
 him that it gave me great pain to say that his dis- 
 ease must soon terminate fatally. He received the 
 intelligence with perfect composure, and rehearsed 
 the text on which he preached for the last time — 
 ' To me to live is Christ, to die is gain.' All com- 
 pany had been kept from visiting him. His wife, 
 whose health was so feeble that she could not aid 
 the nurses and attendants by personal cooperation, 
 came into the room at his request. He bade her a 
 most touching, affectionate adieu, and when she left 
 the room desired her not to return, saying that he 
 should soon meet her in heaven, and that he wanted 
 to spend his few remaining moments in prayer and 
 meditation. He was sensible to the last, never mur- 
 mured nor complained, and was almost continually 
 uttering sentiments like these : ' All is right ; all is 
 ivell ; all is safe. Father, not my ivill, but thine, be 
 dune.' His last words were addressed to a lady of 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 75 
 
 the Methodist congregation, who was by his bed side 
 during a great part of his sickness. She asked him 
 whether his hopes remained unshaken. He replied, ' 1 
 know in whom I have believed, and that he is able to 
 keep that which I have committed to him against 
 that day. Without a doubt, fear, or misgiving, I re- 
 sign my spirit into the hands of God, who gave it.'" 
 Dr. Davidson related to me a curious fact during 
 our conversation at this time. He was a trustee, 
 church treasurer, confidant, and bosom friend of Mr. 
 Larned. During the ravages of the epidemic in 
 1820, Mr. Larned spoke to him, when returning one 
 day from the sick room of a dear friend, about to 
 die without what the Presbyterians call a religious 
 hope, in the following strain : " I must either re- 
 nounce the theology which was taught me at Andover 
 and Princeton, or abandon entirely the practice of 
 visiting the death beds of the irreligious. What can 
 I say to the poor sinner about to draw his last breath, 
 who confesses that he lias led a worldly and impeni- 
 tent life ? Such was the condition of the sufferer 
 whom I have just left with the chill of death upon 
 him. Around the bed was a circle of mourning 
 friends and kindred, stupefied with horror and heart- 
 rending agony, whose solemn silence was broken 
 only by the sighs and shudderings of grief and de- 
 spair. I confess that our religion could afford them 
 no words of hope or consolation. Could I tell thom, 
 wliat T had been led to regard as Bible truth, tliat 
 death in every instance is the awful consequence of 
 original sin ? that it is a thick, overshadowing cloud, 
 where God is present only in displeasure, unless the 
 
76 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 dying person has experienced a change of heart, and 
 leans on the vicarious atonement made by Jesus as 
 the only ground of salvation ? Impossible ! The 
 young man on whom the mortal stroke has fallen, 
 though amiable, has led a gay, thoughtless, worldly, 
 fashionable life. He is dying with a character which 
 cannot now be changed. It is too late. If there 
 be not in the great Father a free, independent, un- 
 conditional, undeserved, unpurchased mercy for our 
 lost race, then there can be no ground of hope for 
 the sinners around us, who in crowds are entering 
 the unseen world, without faith and repentance." 
 
 About this time, a great change came over Mr. 
 Larned's preaching. This was admitted by all who 
 attended his church. At the first prayer meeting 
 which I attended in the vestry room none but the 
 communicants were present. In the course of a 
 free conversation on the prospects of religion in the 
 Crescent City, the members of the Session and oth- 
 ers present remarked that, much as they admired 
 Mr. Larned for his personal accomplishments, genius, 
 eloquence, and noble bearing, they could not but 
 feel tliat he died at a fortunate moment, both with 
 reference to his clerical fame, and the prosperity of 
 evangelical faith in New Orleans. I was astonished 
 at these words, and asked for an explanation. They 
 replied, that during the last year of Mr. Larned's 
 life, he scarcely so much as alluded to the distin- 
 guishing doctrines of Prcsbyterianism in the pulpit. 
 His sermons were general homilies on the goodness 
 of God, and the excellences and pleasures accruing 
 from a religious life this side the grave. He also 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 77 
 
 manifested, they said, a fondness for worldly society, 
 which seemed incompatible with the character of a 
 devoted minister of Jesus Christ. The deacons told 
 me that they themselves, and nearly all of the com- 
 municants, had deserted the society, in a body, sev- 
 eral weeks before the death of their late pastor. 
 
 At the same dinner party I had much talk with a 
 Dr. Flood, at that day the oldest and most popular 
 of the American physicians in New Orleans. He 
 was a gentleman of great colloquial powers, and 
 much originality of genius. Speaking of New Or- 
 leans, he said, " Sir, the (/reole inhabitants, here, 
 enjoy as large a share of health as falls to the lot of 
 those who live in Boston, New York, Philadelphia, 
 or any other northern city. It is a most palpable 
 error which is circulating abroad, that the locality 
 of New Orleans precludes even those who are born 
 and brought up within its limits from the blessings 
 of hrm, full health. This idea is refuted by a thou- 
 sand facts — by the exemption from diseases in gen- 
 eral, which characterizes the native population ; by 
 the remarkable health of infants ; by the entire ab- 
 sence of those local maladies which are almost 
 universal in higher latitudes ; and hj the ajipcarance 
 of the population generally, which will compare 
 most favorably with that of any other people, for all 
 the indications of uniform and vigorous health. 
 Even during the last summer, amidst all the afflic- 
 tions, discomfort, and gloom of the epidemic, one 
 could see at the St. Louis Hotel, every morning, 
 among the old residents, who remain here perma- 
 nently, as j&ne specimens of health as can be found 
 7* 
 
78 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 any where on the continent. The same remark is 
 applicable to Charleston, South Carolina, Jamaica, 
 St. Domingo, Havana, and the West Indies generally. 
 Let a man become acclimated, and let him adopt the 
 habits of the old population, and he may be safely 
 insured at as small a premium as in any part of the 
 United States." 
 
 I received this statement then vs^ith iitter incredu- 
 lity ; but now I can cordially subscribe to its cor- 
 rectness. During eight months of the year. New 
 Orleans is blessed with an extraordinary degree of 
 health. From the first of October to the ensuing 
 summer, the weather is generally more agreeable 
 and salubrious than that of any other place with 
 which I am acquainted. Dr. Dewey somewhere says, 
 " Whilst the disastrous days of the year are carefully 
 recorded, preserved in memory, and often dwelt 
 upon, its happy days are forgotten. They pass un- 
 noted in the table of life's chronology, unrecorded in 
 the book of memory, or the scanty annals of thanks- 
 giving. My brethren, if, for a scries of years, we 
 could place before our minds the many happy months 
 which have been swept beneath the silent wings of 
 time ; if we could call up, from the dark back- 
 ward and abyss of years, the hours of ease, peace, 
 health, beatitude, in which the current of life has 
 flowed on, amid kind and blessed visitations of 
 Heaven's beneficence, bearing us calmly and gently 
 upon its bosom as the infant in its mother's arms ; 
 if we could make them stand up before iis as vivid 
 realities, and behold them as we do our faces in a 
 mirror, — we should deeply feel that God has con- 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 79 
 
 stantlj lavished upon us the richest bounties, and 
 that ingratitude is the most enormous and aggra- 
 vated sin of which we are guilty." These remarks 
 are applicable to those of every locality on tlie globe. 
 Is not the healthiest spot within our borders often 
 visited by the pestilence that walketh in darkness, 
 and the destruction that wasteth at noonday ? Not 
 imfrcquently, amid the bracing winds and snows of 
 winter, fatal epidemics prevail in the healthiest parts 
 of New England. It is thought by those well quali- 
 fied to judge correctly about the matter, that con- 
 sumption, in its various forms, causes a greater de- 
 struction of human life in Boston, during the space 
 (we will suppose) of every ten years, than the yellow 
 fever docs in the same time in New Orleans. At the 
 north, tlie ravages of this fearful scourge are almost 
 unnoticed, because they are regular, unintermitted, 
 and looked upon almost as a thing of course, belong- 
 ing to the ordinary current of human events. But 
 in the Crescent City, the enemy comes down in a mo- 
 ment, without Avarning, like an Alpine avalanche, 
 exciting the notice, wonder, and sympathy of the 
 whole land ; and after having fulfilled his mission in 
 the compass of six or eight weeks, mysteriously dis- 
 appears as he came, and is followed by a period of 
 singular and almost universal health, sometimes ex- 
 tending even to years. As to the cholera, it is not 
 peculiar to New Orleans, but pervades the globe. It 
 should be observed, also, that the yellow fever is 
 confnied almost exclusively to strangers. It is the 
 process by which exotics become assimilated to air, 
 climate, temperature, &c., diiferent from, and, in 
 some cases, almost antagonistic, to those where they 
 
80 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 were born and reared. So far as the arrangements 
 of God are concerned, I believe that all over the 
 globe, the blessings of the seasons, weather, climate, 
 soil, scenery, and other means of physical happiness, 
 are pretty equally distributed. 
 
 There is, indeed, no geographical position where a 
 low-minded, debased, and licentious man can be happy. 
 All the beauties of nature are lost upon his hardened, 
 perverse, and misdirected soul. The outward world 
 appears to such a person a dull, indifferent, common- 
 place, wearisome affair — a deep, narrow valley, 
 hemmed in by inaccessible rocks, filled with the rub- 
 bish of dull cares and tiresome vanities. But to the 
 eye of a good man, all nature is clothed in beauty. 
 " It unfolds in the numberless flowers of spring ; it 
 waves in tlie verdant branches of the trees, and the 
 green blades of grass ; it haunts the depths of the 
 earth and the sea, and gleams out in the hues of the 
 shell and the precious stone. And not only these 
 minute objects, but the ocean, the mountains, tlie 
 clouds, the stars, the rising and setting sun, all over- 
 flow with beauty." The same may be said of the 
 marsh, the swamp, the barren heath, the sandy des- 
 ert ; the shapeless rock and hanging precipice ; tlie 
 most rude, gross, and uncultivated parts of nature : 
 every thing wliich a noble man looks upon — the 
 clods of earth, the furrows of the field, the insensible 
 rock — are to his eye emblematical of the grand and 
 lovely attributes of an Almighty Father. I repeat 
 it, that to a virtuous man, wherever he is, — on the 
 Connecticut, Hudson, Ohio, or Mississippi, — nature 
 presents, in constant and ever-varying forms, images 
 of the fair, orderly, proportioned, and wise, filling his 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 81 
 
 soul with rapture, and lifting it up to the infinite 
 Parent. This is in accordance with Scripture. 
 " The heavens declare the glory of God, and the 
 firmament showeth his handiwork." 
 
 It is a common opinion that Louisiana is much 
 inferior to the Northern and Middle States, with re- 
 spect to the numerous advantages of climate, health, 
 temperature, and natural scenery. A distinguished 
 naturalist has endeavored to show that the inhabit- 
 ants of Lapland, for example, all things considered, 
 derive as much happiness from the physical influ- 
 ences by which they are surrounded, as those who 
 reside in the verdant regions of the south, where 
 reign eternal spring and summer ; where the seasons, 
 as they revolve, let fall no blight nor chill upon the 
 rich and smiling landscape. He contends that the 
 peculiar advantages of every latitude have corre- 
 s])onding disadvantages, so that God's goodness 
 shines as strongly on one spot as another. 
 
 When the native of Switzerland takes up his 
 a1)odc in the luxuriant and beautiful clime of the 
 soutli, — those green, sunny regions, where the glory 
 of former generations still glimmers on the falling 
 monuments and crumbling columns of immortal art, 
 where nature lives forever, and forever spreads its 
 unfading charms, and the bosom of the earth is fair 
 and fragrant through all the circling months, — he 
 beholds nothing so interesting as the mountain tops 
 covered with eternal snow — those rugged rocks and 
 frowning precipices that distinguish the wild land- 
 scape endeared to him by the tender reminiscences 
 of home and childhood. 
 
82 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 Not long since, I met at Niagara Falls a French 
 Oreolc family, intelligent and refined, who had never 
 before wandered beyond the limits of their native 
 state. Whilst they seemed to appreciate the new 
 and glorious objects which almost continually greeted 
 their sight, as they journeyed north and east, still 
 they remarked, that they had seen no plt^je which 
 they would prefer, as a residence for life, to the spot 
 where they were born. To their eye, no prospect 
 was more pleasing than that widely-extended planta- 
 tion, where they had lived from the beginning amid 
 all the endearments of a happy home. " How poor," 
 exclaimed they, " are the cultivated hills and narrow 
 intervals of New England, compared with the luxu- 
 riant soil of Louisiana, loaded with the richest pro- 
 ductions — rice, cotton, sugar cane, &c. ! " In our 
 gardens are the orange, fig, and olive, all sorts of 
 elegant shrubs, and every variety of flowers. We 
 are awakened each returning morn by the melodious 
 notes of the birds, whose lives have been passed upon 
 the spot where their existence began, and that 
 seem almost to be a part of the family. How bland, 
 balmy, fragrant, and salubrious, our atmosphere ! 
 One of the ladies belonging to the company applied 
 to her native state the following lines of Byron : — 
 
 " Know ye the land of the myrtle and vine, 
 Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine ? 
 Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppressed with perfume, 
 Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gul in her bloom ? 
 Where the orange and olive are fairest of fruit, 
 And the voice of the nightingale never is mute ? 
 Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky. 
 In color though varied, in beauty may vie ? " 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 83 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 MY FIRST SERMON IN NEW ORLEANS, — EXTEMPORANE- 
 OUS PREACHING. PECUNIARY CONDITION OF THE 
 
 CHURCH AT MR. LARNED's DEATH. — GENEROUS OFFER 
 MADE BY JUDAH TOURO, ESQ. — HIS PECULIAR CHAR- 
 ACTER. — ADMISSION TO THE PRESBYTERY OF MIS- 
 SISSIPPI. — ITS RESULTS. — MARRIAGE. 
 
 The first time I preached in the Crescent City was 
 on the morning of the last Sabbath in February, 
 1822. On the previous Saturday evening, a com- 
 mittee of the trustees waited on me, to ascertain 
 upon what plan I intended to conduct the services of 
 the church. They said, " In all probability, the next 
 day will be one of the loveliest of the spring season ; 
 and if so, there will be an overflowing house. Notice 
 has been published in all the newspapers that you 
 are expected to preach in the Presbyterian cliurch on 
 Sunday morning. Besides," they remarked, "your 
 name has been a subject much talked about among 
 us the last week ; great expectations have been 
 raised. We have assured our friends that you are 
 in every respect qualified to be a successor of our 
 former lamented pastor. Now, we have one request 
 to make : it is, that you will not attempt to read a 
 manuscript sermon. The hearers will expect you to 
 imitate Mr. Larned by speaking extemporaneously, 
 antl apparently from the inspiration of the moment. 
 You might read in our pulpit the best-written sermon 
 that was ever composed, equal to one of Chalmers's, 
 
84 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Eobcrt Hall's, or Dr. Channing's, characterized by 
 profound, original thought, neatness and purity of 
 style, happy metaphors, language perfectly appropri- 
 ate, and completely polished, yet the congregation 
 would retire dissatisfied, saying, ' We have heard a 
 discourse erudite indeed, and able, but it was not 
 like one of Mr. Larned's, — free, unconstrained, per- 
 suasive, coming warm and natural from a heart re- 
 plenished with ardent, impetuous feelings, poured 
 forth with the fulness and rapidity of a torrent.' " 
 
 I promised to comply with their wishes, and do 
 the best in my power to gratify a New Orleans audi- 
 ence, but begged them, in case of a failure, to allow 
 me to steal away as silently as possible the next 
 week, in some vessel bound for Boston or New York, 
 where the reading of sermons is tolerated in all pul- 
 pits. The committee retired. It was near nine 
 o'clock in the evening. I had prepared a written 
 discourse on the immortality of the soul, being de- 
 termined never again to attempt extemporizing in 
 the pulpit. I was in despair. I knelt down, and 
 prayed for divine guidance and support. Arising, I 
 paced the room for some moments in a paroxysm of 
 anxiety, during which many schemes for escaping 
 from the dilemma passed through my mind. Finally, 
 I came to the conclusion to commit to memory the 
 principal heads of the discourse I had written, and 
 some of the most prominent sentences under each 
 division, and trust for the remainder to the spur of 
 the occasion. 
 
 In performing this labor, I sat up till daylight, 
 then threw myself upon a sofa, and slept till the 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 85 
 
 servant called me to breakfast. I had become calm ; 
 but it was the calmness of despair ; for I had aban- 
 doned, even, the hope of succeeding in my mission. 
 When the bell rang at eleven o'clock, I went to 
 the church determined and reckless. It was one of 
 those delightful mornings which I have never seen 
 any where but in Louisiana. The large house was 
 crowded with the most noble-looking audience that I 
 had ever gazed upon ; for then, ladies and gentle- 
 men in New Orleans dressed as finely to go to church 
 as they did when they went to the opera, evening 
 party, or ball room. Tliere were a good organ and 
 excellent singers. During the music, immediately 
 before the sermon, I attempted to recall to mind the 
 heads of the discourse which I had spent the night 
 in committing to memory. Thoughts and words had 
 alike vanished from the tablets of my soul. I could 
 think of nothing but that " sea of upturned faces." 
 If there had been before me some sliort notes of the 
 substance of the discourse, I should not have looked 
 on my condition with so much despair. I said to 
 myself, " If the hearers are not solemnized, they will 
 doubtless be amused at my awkward, clumsy, feeble, 
 perplexed, embarrassed, and desultory efforts." A 
 cold perspiration covered me. Conforming as nearly 
 as was in my power to what had been said was the 
 habit of my predecessor, when the music died away, 
 I arose very deliberately, opened the Bible, and after 
 reading the text, closed it and laid it aside, that 
 tliere might be ample room for action. 
 
 The moment I looked upon the audience, the 
 words I had learned by rote the night before came to 
 
86 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 my recollection. I found no difficulty in rehearsing 
 them ; but I felt certain that they sounded to my 
 auditors stale, flat, and insipid, although they seemed 
 quite attentive and absorbed. Every eye was fixed 
 Upon me ; but I ascribed this attention to the polite- 
 ness of my hearers. They were too noble and high- 
 minded to manifest their indifference openly. I 
 confess, with shame and sorrow, that I thought 
 more of man than God in delivering that discourse. 
 This was the real source of all my perplexity ; and 
 to the present day, I cannot go into the pulpit with 
 becoming indifference to the opinions and criticisms 
 of those whom I address. Touching the subject of 
 popularity, I have a morbid sensitiveness, which be- 
 trays, if not an entire absence, at least an extremely 
 low condition of personal piety. If ministers felt 
 properly their responsibility to God, they would be 
 able always to preach well. 
 
 When I descended from the pulpit, the same gen- 
 tlemen who had given me their advice the evening 
 before, grasped my hand warmly, and congratulated 
 me on the brilliant effort that had been made. They 
 said it was enough to establish my fame. It was 
 almost impossible to believe in their sincerity. 
 Could it be that they would deceive me on such a 
 grave matter ? The disclosures of Monday proved 
 that they had expressed their sober convictions. 
 The audience on that occasion was composed of the 
 elite of New Orleans, with respect to refinement and 
 intelligence. Among them were tlie ablest members 
 of the bar, — those who had belonged to Congress, — 
 physicians, enlightened merchants, many strangers 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 87 
 
 of distinction, and the conductors of the daily press. 
 In my commendation every voice was joined. Whilst 
 my vanity was soothed by this unexpected success, it 
 awakened appalling apprehensions as to the future. 
 I was now fully committed to the position of an ex- 
 temporaneous preacher. But the excitement must 
 bo kept up. Another Sunday would soon come. 
 The favorable sentiments which had been inspired, 
 unless maintained and deepened on the next occa- 
 sion, might end in disappointment and disgust. I 
 thought of these Ihics of Pope : — 
 
 " Unhappy fame, like most mistaken things, 
 Atones not for that evil which it brings ; 
 Then mosl^our trouble still, when most admired. 
 And still the more we give, the more required." 
 
 But the Rubicon was crossed. Nothing but sickness 
 or death could withdraw me from the engagement 
 which had been made and ratified by the united 
 plaudits of the society. 
 
 In this quandary, it was requisite to act promptly 
 and decidedly. I first thought of writing out my 
 sermons in full, and committing them to mem- 
 ory. But I soon found that this course would make 
 an exorbitant demand on my time. I could not 
 master a manuscript sermon, so as to rehearse 
 it with ease and correctness, without several morn- 
 ings' study. My predecessor had a remarkalde fa- 
 cility of memory in committing his own com])0- 
 sitions. He spent the whole week, from Monday till 
 Saturday afternoon, in out-door avocations. About 
 dark, he drank strong tea, and then went into 
 
88 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 his study. Between that hour and ten or eleven 
 o'clock, he wrote down completely his sermon for 
 the next morning. When finished, he read it once 
 over very attentively, before retiring to rest. He 
 rose very late Sabbath mornings. About an hour 
 before the commencement of the services, he read 
 his manuscript a second time, threw it under his feet, 
 walked into the pulpit, and pronounced the discourse 
 precisely as it was written, in the easy, flowing, 
 unembarrassed manner of animated conversation. 
 This anecdote I had from Dr. Davidson, an intimate 
 friend, who was well acquainted with his haltits. I 
 have heard of one great American orator and states- 
 man who can do the same thing — the Hon. Edward 
 Everett, of Massachusetts. 
 
 Incapable of making such an effort, I was com- 
 pelled to have recourse to some other mode of prep- 
 aration. There was then in New Orleans one of 
 the most eloquent lawyers of his day. I obtained 
 an introduction to him. In the course of conversa- 
 tion, I remarked, that as I was just beginning to 
 speak in public, and experienced much difficulty in 
 the process, I should be very much obliged if he 
 would tell me what kind of previous preparation for 
 delivering a speech he had found most effective. He 
 replied, " I never speak without intense premedita- 
 tion on my subject, unless compelled by some un- 
 foreseen exigencies. With respect to ideas, you 
 cannot be too careful and accurate in your prepara- 
 tion ; but if you write down every word, and commit 
 it to memory, (I have tried this once or twice,) you 
 will overdo the matter, and render your discourse 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 89 
 
 heavy. In spite of yourself, it will appear stiff and 
 unnatural, labored and cold. I am a very wicked 
 man, but if I had to preach in your pulpit next Sab- 
 bath morning, I should select a subject to my taste, 
 then make, as the lawyers call it, a brief oi what I 
 intended to say. This I should carry with me 
 through the week, and during my leisure hours, even 
 when walking along the streets, think closely on its 
 divisions and subdivisions, till I had attained a full 
 and distinct view of the matter which I wished to 
 clothe in words, till I had become warm and inter- 
 ested in it, and made it perfectly familiar to my 
 thoughts. Then I could enter your pulpit, and 
 speak with fluency, earnestness, case, and with the 
 best ornaments of style, manner, and elocution, that 
 my poor genius could command. What do you 
 think of this plan of preparing sermons ? " he in- 
 quired. 
 
 " It strikes me as admirable," I answered. " If 
 you will try it next Sunday," he added, " I will be 
 present, and honestly give you my opinion of the char- 
 acter of your performances." I retired to my room, 
 chose a subject, made a brief, and faithfully followed 
 his directions, — with one exception, — I did not 
 take it into tlie pulpit with me. He kept his word, 
 and came to church on Sabbath morning. Meeting 
 me after the services, he said, " Sir, your discourse 
 was natural, easy, simple, and magnificent ; you laid 
 down sentence after sentence, and paragraph after 
 paragraph, entirely fit for the press ; I did not notico 
 that you tripped a single time, which you would have 
 done, had you used a manuscript. You will make 
 8* 
 
90 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 an extemporaneous speaker quite as popular and 
 brilliant as ever Mr. Larned was." This gentleman 
 communicated to me what was worth more, as to the 
 secret of speaking well in the pulpit, than all which 
 I had heard from the professors at Andover, or read 
 in treatises on the subject. 
 
 The above plan I have followed sedulously all my 
 life since. The first fifteen years of my residence in 
 New Orleans, I was particular in writing my briefs. 
 I had preserved a large basket full of them, which 
 were all burned when I left the people of my charge, 
 in May, 185G. For the last twenty years, I have 
 made only mental preparation for the pulpit. Each 
 of the sermons of mine published in the " Picayune " 
 was written off from memory, at two sittings — one 
 on the Sabbath evening after it was delivered, the 
 other on Monday morning, before breakfast. Not 
 one of those discourses was rewritten or revised. 
 
 I hope it will not look like presumption to give 
 my opinion concerning a question which has been so 
 extensively contested among the clergy, and remains 
 still undecided — whether extemporizing or reading 
 sermons is the most instructive and edifying mode 
 of delivery. Surely I may be pardoned for express- 
 ing a judgment dictated by the results of thirty-five 
 years' practice. I do not use the word extemporize 
 to mean preaching without study, premeditation, and 
 careful composition. It is an insult to an audience 
 to go before them, if it can be avoided, relying en- 
 tirely for utterance upon the spur of the occasion. 
 Whatever be his native genius, no clergyman can 
 succeed as a settled pastor, without fixed habits of 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 91 
 
 the most persevering and energetic study. He 
 should rise at four o'clock A. M. in summer, and 
 live A. M. in winter, so as to secure an opportunity 
 of from live to six hours of uninterrupted study, 
 before he is liable to be broken in upon by company, 
 or by applicants for parochial ministrations. This 
 routine I have faithfully pursued during the whole 
 of my residence at the south. Without such sys- 
 tematic, previous, regular application and toil, it is 
 impossible for any clergyman to make suitable pro- 
 visions for the spiritual nourishment and growth of 
 a large promiscuous congregation. 
 
 Think what resources are wanted to preach even 
 one good sermon ; but a hundred are needed for a 
 single year. Who is sufficient for these things ? 
 Can that man become adequately acquainted with 
 the natural sciences ; history, sacred and profane ; 
 the Bible, its exegesis ; the science of human nature, 
 of ethics, and of beauty, — can that man have a soul 
 warmed and enriched with the profound and diversi- 
 fied topics which appertain to pulpit instruction and 
 persuasion, who spends the most of nearly every day 
 in visiting, running about to make lyceum speeches, 
 and addresses at political meetings, in cursing our 
 civil rulers, and scolding them about those awful 
 derelictions of duty which threaten to ruin this glo- 
 rious republic ? What a pity the parsons were not 
 allowed to sway a sceptre over all human interests, 
 secular and divine ! In that case, the millennium, 
 no doubt, would soon be in its zenith. 
 
 Nevertheless, I am satisfied that if a minister con- 
 sults his highest usefulness, he will not depend much 
 
92 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 upon his notes in the pulpit. If he reads entirely or 
 chiefly, he cannot adopt an easy, natural, impressive, 
 and unaffected manner. There is an infinite differ- 
 ence between written and spoken language. If I 
 were to read to my people in New Orleans, from the 
 pulpit, one of Dr. Clianning's best sermons, it would 
 strike them as cold, artificial, elaborate, dull, and 
 uninteresting. Positively, it would have a narcotic 
 effect upon them. But let me present the same 
 thoughts in the style of vivid, unforced, agreeable 
 conversation, and they would be kept wide awake, 
 absorbed, and intensely interested. 
 
 The most effective pulpit style which I have wit- 
 nessed at the north (if we except occasional tcdi- 
 ousness, prolixity, and some other peculiarities,) is 
 that of the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, of Brooklyn, 
 New York. In one part of his discourse, there is 
 close reasoning ; in another, familiar talk ; in a 
 third, grand declamation ; in a fourth, a fine, origi- 
 nal picture of the imagination ; in a fifth, something 
 that will send a laugh like an electric shock through 
 the whole audience ; in a sixth, an appeal to the 
 sublimities of God, duty, and retribution, which 
 makes all present feel solemn, and moved perhaps 
 to tears. 
 
 In some instances, all these different manifesta- 
 tions are combined into a single paragraph. An or- 
 thodox " old fogy " would of course be shocked at 
 one of his discourses, as it would seem to him utterly 
 devoid of reverence, but he could not go to sleep 
 under its delivery. For myself, I cannot but honor 
 and admire the man who, in defiance of all the 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 93 
 
 prudery and pedantry of clinrcli conventionalisms, 
 enters the pulpit to pour out a Niagara of original 
 thoughts on the great themes of Christian truth and 
 duty, and social progress. I must say, however, 
 that I have no sympathy with his peculiar views on 
 slavery. Here I differ from him as far as the east is 
 from the west. If all ministers, like Mr. Beecher, 
 would abandon, but for an hour, their manuscripts, 
 and speak in public as they do in private, we should 
 not hear these universal complaints about cold, dead, 
 dry, metaphysical sermons. But, generally, people 
 would find the church a more interesting place than 
 the opera, theatre, ball room, museum, or evening 
 party. 
 
 A meeting of the society was called, on the third 
 Sabbath after my arrival in New Orleans, to elect a 
 permanent pastor. I was chosen to fill this oflice by 
 a unanimous vote, both of the pew holders and com- 
 municants. I told the committee, who waited on 
 me to ask my acceptance of the post to which I had 
 been called, tliat I could not give them an answer 
 till I had examined the pecuniary affairs of the 
 church. Tlie treasurer's books and papers were 
 placed in my hands. By the aid of a young gentle- 
 man familiar with the routine of a counting room, 
 I soon ascertained that the church indebtedness 
 amounted to forty-five thousand dollars. They could 
 sliow no assets whatever ; there was not a dollar in 
 the treasury. As soon as these facts were ascer- 
 tained, I informed the committee that I was immova- 
 bly determined not to accept their offer at all, unless 
 the above-named debt were in some way liquidated. 
 
94 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 The legislature of Louisiana happened to be in ses- 
 sion at that very moment. The trustees applied to 
 them for a lottery, which was then considered a 
 justifiable mode of raising money for charitable ob- 
 jects. It was granted at once, and the same week 
 the scheme was sold to the agents of Yates and 
 Mclntyre, New York, for twenty-five thousand dol- 
 lars. The balance of the debt was raised by selling 
 the church to Judah Touro, Esq., a merchant, ori- 
 ginally from New England. The property Avas 
 worth a great deal more than twenty thousand dol- 
 lars. The sale of the church was looked upon as 
 merely nominal, although it was purchased without 
 any conditions, expressed or implied, or any pledges 
 as to the final disposition which should be made of 
 it. All had confidence in the general character of 
 Mr. Touro, and were very glad to have the church 
 put into his hands. 
 
 Mr. Touro was left an orphan about the age of 
 ten, in his native place, Newport, R. I. After that 
 time he lived in Boston fifteen years, and was trained 
 to the pursuits of mercantile life. He immigrated 
 to New Orleans in 1802, and never left it for a day 
 till his death, with the single exception of marching 
 to the battle field, at the time of the invasion, in 1815, 
 to lay down his life, if necessary, (and he came near 
 doing it,) for the preservation of our liberties. Did 
 he not display a patriotism as noble and undaunted 
 as that of Washington, Warren, Lafsiyette, or any 
 others whose names are inscribed upon the brightest 
 pages of American history ? It is universally known 
 what sort of a i)lace New Orleans has been, cspe- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 95 
 
 cially for the last forty years, with respect to sudden, 
 extraordinary reverses and fluctuations in commer- 
 cial affairs. In rapid succession the storms of dis- 
 tress have desolated that emporium, sweeping away 
 like a crevasse, in a few short hours, the hopes and 
 possessions of hundreds and thousands, and producing 
 a complete revolution in the community. I have seen 
 the millionnaire of one year laboring in the next as 
 a clerk in a counting room or bank. 
 
 Through all these " times that tried men's souls," 
 Mr. Touro pursued the even tenor of his way, ever 
 calm and self-possessed, and with his robes unstained. 
 The poisonous breath of calumny never breathed 
 upon his fair name as a merchant and upright busi- 
 ness man. The most tempting opportunities of gain 
 from the shattered fortunes which were floating 
 around, never caused him in a single instance to 
 swerve from the path of plain, straightforward, sim- 
 l)le, unbending rectitude. He was uniformly just. 
 " Justice," says Plato, " is the divincst attribute of a 
 good man," I heard Mr. Touro once remark, that, 
 in his whole life, he had never knowingly, deliberately 
 injured a fellow-being, either as to his person, prop- 
 erty, or reputation. Of all the glories which men 
 have displayed in any age, none is more entitled 
 til an this species of excellence to our unqualified 
 admiration. None is more rare. I heard a deacon 
 of an orthodox church, in the interior of New Eng- 
 land, who was largely engaged in selling goods to 
 the surrounding farmers, say, a short time ago, that 
 he had to keep a strict eye even on a majority of the 
 church members with whom he dealt, or they would 
 
96 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 deceive him as to the quantity and quality of the 
 yarious articles which were offered in the way of 
 exchange. " Yet," continued he, " I do not doubt 
 their piety." 
 
 This same gentleman, a moment before, had ex- 
 pressed a doubt wdiether it was possible for ]\Ir. 
 Touro to have been a pious man, because he was a 
 Jew. I replied, that it was true, he was born, reared, 
 and had lived, and died in the Hebrew faith. It 
 was the foith of his father, who was a learned and 
 most esteemed rabbi. It was the faith that had been 
 handed down to him by a long line of illustrious 
 ancestors, reaching back to the patriarchal ages of 
 the world. It was the faith of Abraham, Isaac, and 
 Jacob, to whom those glorious promises were first 
 given, which embrace tlie final, complete, and ever- 
 lasting exaltation of all mankind. It was the faith 
 of Jesus himself, who was a Jew, and who declared 
 that the religion of the Old Testament contains all that 
 is requisite to guide us to eternal joy ; that he came 
 into the world not to destroy that f\iith, but to free 
 it from corruptions, and send it forth in its divine, 
 original, unimpaired vigor and freshness. " Besides," 
 I added, "all admit that the moral character of 
 Mr. Touro was spotless. He was one who was never 
 guilty of prevarication, falsehood, libertinism, or the 
 bartering of his conscience for filthy lucre." " All 
 this," answered the deacon, " amounts to nothing, so 
 far as the question of his piety is concerned. He 
 may be perfectly just, good, true, and lovely, as to 
 his moral conduct ; yet he cannot be saved without 
 faith in the Son of God." What a delusion ! Faith 
 
REY. THEODORE CLAPP. 97 
 
 in the Son of God is nothing more nor less than 
 goodness of heart and life. 
 
 Dr. Chalmers once said, " All right-hearted per- 
 sons are pious in the sight of God, whether Hebrew, 
 Christian, Pagan, or Deistical in regard to mere creed 
 or abstract opinions." A man who thinks himself 
 more wise, more enlightened, more pleasing to God, 
 or possessed of a fairer prospect of being admitted 
 finally to the kingdom of heaven than his neighbors, 
 because his creed is sounder than theirs, is not only 
 guilty of a narrow, mean, exclusive bigotry, but 
 deliberately tramples on that precept of the gospel 
 which says, we " must by no means condemn a 
 neighbor on account of his peculiar religious princi- 
 ples." " Who art thou that condcmnest thy broth- 
 er," <fcc. ? " To his own Master he shall give an ac- 
 count of himself, and be judged accordingly." It is 
 awful to think of this violation of the law of charity 
 among the various denominations ui the United 
 States. Multitudes of noble, high-minded men are 
 kept from joining any particular church, from the 
 conviction that such a step would expose them to the 
 hatred and persecution of antagonistic sects. I have 
 often heard Mr. Touro say, that, though an Israelite 
 to the bottom of his soul, it would give him the sin- 
 cerest pleasure to see all the churches flourishing in 
 their respective ways, and that he was heartily sorry 
 that they did not more gGiieraWy fraternize unth,lore, 
 and help each other. 
 
 This gentleman was the humblest man whom I 
 have ever been acquainted with. A person over- 
 modest is very seldom found, or rather is to be looked 
 9 
 
98 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 upon as an anomaly in this proud, selfish world of 
 ours. But Mr. Touro was too sensitive on this sub- 
 ject. The most delicate, deserved, and timely ex- 
 pressions of esteem from particular, intimate friends 
 and acquaintances, seemed to give him pain instead 
 of pleasure. I remember being in his company 
 once, when a friend proposed to read to him a para- 
 graph from a Boston newspaper, which spoke of his 
 character in terms of eulogy. He refused to listen 
 to the perusal, and remarked, with apparently excited 
 feelings, that " he would thank them to change the 
 subject of conversation." Several times, when alone, 
 I asked him some questions about the battle of New 
 Orleans, in which he received such a dreadful wound. 
 He declined making any particular remarks about it, 
 further than to express his deep sense of the kind- 
 ness of his friend, R. D. Shephard, Esq., who car- 
 ried him from the field of conflict and saved his 
 life. He is the only one of the veterans under Gen- 
 eral Jackson, on the plains of Chalmette, with whom 
 I have conversed, who seemed to take no pleasure in 
 describing the part which he acted on the ever- 
 memorable 8th of January, 1815. Mr. Touro once 
 said, in my hearing, that ho would have revoked the 
 donation given for completing the Bunker Hill 
 Monument, on account of their publishing his 
 name in the newspapers, contrary to his wishes, 
 had it not been for the apprehension that his real 
 motives would have been misunderstood and mis- 
 represented. And most assuredly the fear was well 
 grounded. 
 
 I Avish here to record a few lines as to the charac- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 99 
 
 ter of Judali Touro's philantliropy. The name of 
 John Wesley, founder of that h\rge, respcctabhi de- 
 nomination, the Methodists, is enrolled on the list of 
 eminent British philanthropists. For what reasons ? 
 Because, among other virtues, we are told that, hy a 
 life of the most unexampled economy, he saved, in 
 the space of fifty years, one hundred and fifty thou- 
 sand dollars out of his income, to be devoted to the 
 cause of charity. Judah Touro, by habits of frugal- 
 ity not less strict and admirable than those of the 
 eminent Christian just named, during a half century 
 accumulated five hundred thousand dollars, to be 
 used in promoting the same sublime purpose. Mr. 
 Wesley is praised because he was so generous in his 
 donations to the church that was nearest to his heart, 
 and of which he was the principal originator. Mr. 
 Touro gave to the church which he most loved not 
 less tlian the great Wesley did to the Methodists — 
 two liundred and twenty thousand dollare. I have 
 never lieard of but one religionist in the United 
 States who can be compared with Mr. Touro, as re- 
 gards the liberality of his benefactions to his own 
 church ; and he bestowed nothing on other denomi- 
 nations. 
 
 But Mr. Touro gave more to strangers than to his 
 brethren. On the former he conferred three hun- 
 dred thousand dollars ; on the latter, but two hun- 
 dred thousand. With a generous profusion, he scat- 
 tered his favors l)roadcast over the wide field of 
 humanity. He knew well that many of the recipi- 
 ents of his bounty hated the Hebrews, and would, 
 if possible, sweep them into annihilation. In this 
 
100 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 respect, did he not recognize the principle upon 
 which God himself distributes his bounties among 
 men ? For Jesus declares that the Father loves and 
 blesses his enemies as much as he does his friends. 
 So the person I am speaking of consulted not the ill- 
 desert, meanness, prejudice, or sin, of those whom 
 he was pleased to help, but only how they might be 
 best raised from debasement and destitution. If 
 God were to pour out on his foes vengeance instead 
 of love, his throne would crumble, and the universe 
 be reduced to chaos. Indeed, this feature of Mr. 
 Touro's beneficence is so exalted, noble, and godlike, 
 that I should but mar and obscure the bright ideal 
 by the most impressive description that language 
 could give. He once saw, when standing at the door 
 of his counting room, a poor, lost inebriate, in the 
 hands of the sheriff, passing on his way to prison for 
 debt. Mr. Touro stopped him, and spoke kindly to 
 him, as he had known him in better days. Ascer- 
 taining the sum for which he had been apprehended, 
 he immediately paid it, and effected his release. It 
 amounted, with costs, to nine hundred dollars. He 
 said, " I do not much expect tliat it will be of any 
 benefit to the individual himself, but I have per- 
 formed the act for the sake of his family." 
 
 It was a time of great business depression in New 
 Orleans, when Mr. Touro became the proprietor of 
 the church edifice and grounds. Many of the society 
 fell in the preceding epidemic. Some who were 
 most prominent in settling Mr. Larned had just 
 compounded with their creditors. The friends of 
 the institution were few, feeble, impoverished, bank- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 101 
 
 nipt, and pushed to the very brink of ruin. A noblo 
 Israelite snatched them from the jaws of destruction. 
 From that day down to its destruction by fire, he 
 held it for their use, and incurred an additional ex- 
 pense of several thousand dollars for keeping it in 
 repair. For myself he professed the strongest per- 
 sonal regard, and showed it by giving me almost the 
 entire income of the church — the pew rents — for 
 about twenty -eight years. He might have torn the 
 building down at the beginning, and reared on its 
 site a block of stores, whose revenue by this time 
 would have amounted to half a million of doUai's at 
 least. He was urged to do so on several occasions, 
 and once replied to a gentleman who made a very 
 liberal offer for the property, that " there was not 
 money enough in the world to buy it, and that if he 
 could have his way, there should be a church on the 
 spot to the end of time." 
 
 This man was a Jew. Is there a Christian society 
 in New Orleans that has ever offered the Unitarians 
 the slightest assistance, or even courtesy ? Is tlicrc 
 one that would put forth a hand to help them 
 to-day, if they were in danger of perishing? Is 
 there one that would not rejoice in their complete, 
 absolute destruction ? The Unitarians have aided 
 materially towards the erection of all the orthodox 
 Protestant churches in the Crescent City. But when 
 they were burned out, and asked for one of the or- 
 thodox churches to hold meetings in occasionally, 
 the favor was denied on the alleged ground that by 
 showing such a kindness, they might indirectly en- 
 courage the dreadful heresies which Ave were labor- 
 9* 
 
102 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 ing to promulgate. It was this spirit that burned 
 Servetus, that kindled the fires of the auto de fc, and 
 has condemned to the wheel, rack, gibbet, or cross, 
 the noblest benefactors of our race. But in this 
 emergency, the aforesaid Hebrew came to our relief. 
 He purchased a small Baptist chapel for us to wor- 
 ship in, free of charge, till he could put up a larger 
 building for the use of the congregation. 
 
 The question is often asked, whether Mr. Touro 
 was as liberal in the matter of private donations as 
 in his public charities. We cannot give an arith- 
 metical answer to this question, for he followed most 
 scrupulously the injunction of our Lord, " Let not 
 thy left hand know what thy right hand docth." It 
 has come incidentally to my knowledge, that since 
 my settlement in New Orleans, the amount of his 
 private benefactions has not been less than thirty 
 thousand dollars. It no doubt far exceeded this 
 statement. Touching this matter, did space allow, 
 I could give many interesting anecdotes. Though 
 Mr. Touro was exact, rigid, and methodical in his 
 business transactions, this trait of character had not 
 its origin in covetousness. When his impulses led 
 the way, he poured forth his money freely as water. 
 I was in his counting room one morning, when ho 
 told me, weeping, that he had just signed a doc- 
 ument resigning his legal title to the entire estate of 
 an only sister, recently deceased. It was worth, if I 
 remember aright, about eighty thousand dollars. 
 He refused to take the smallest fraction of it, and 
 requested his friends at the north to distribute it 
 for charitable purposes, in the manner which they 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 103 
 
 thought -would be most agreeable to her, were she 
 still living. Had avarice been liis ruling passion, 
 would he have allowed such a windfall to escape his 
 grasp ? 
 
 It has often been said by persons in New Orleans, 
 that Mr. Touro did not do for myself particularly, 
 as much, all things considered, as I had a right to 
 expect. But do they know the principles which 
 governed and directed his acts of kindness to me and 
 mine ? He often said, " Mr. Clapp, you are alto- 
 gether too profuse and indiscriminate in your chari- 
 ties. I admit that you are economical in your hab- 
 its and mode of living ; but were you to come into 
 the possession of a fortune, you would give it all 
 away in a year or two, unless you liad an overseer 
 appointed." I might have done so then, but I am 
 sure that I should not do so now, if I had the cliance. 
 It was his honest conviction that I ought not to 
 have access to much money at a time. But most of 
 my friends are not aware of the magnitude of the 
 benefits which he was actually pleased to confer on 
 me. Besides allowing me to take nearly the whole 
 income of the pew rent, he gave me in small sums, 
 from time to time, not less than twenty thousand 
 dollars. Whenever I told him that I was out of 
 money, he always supplied me, saying, " that was 
 the last lie could let me have, for the church ought 
 certainly to yield me enough." Indeed, it was 
 entirely owing to the unwise profusion of my chari- 
 ties, that I did not leave New Orleans with an ample 
 competence for life. 
 
 The title "Philanthropist" is the most honorable 
 
104 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 surname on earth. It has been most justly bestowed 
 on Judah Touro, and he will wear it till time is no 
 more ; it will be inscribed in light immortal on the 
 diadem of his everlasting reward. I thank God for 
 my acquaintance with this man ; I thank God that 
 he was my friend ; above all, I would be thankful 
 for the hope of meeting him in that brighter exist- 
 ence, where those who love each other will be sep- 
 arated no more. 
 
 Daniel Webster once said in an address before 
 the Hebrew Benevolent Association of New York 
 city, " We are indebted to the Jewish nation for 
 revealed religion, for the most important blessings 
 and refinements of civilized life, and for all well- 
 grounded hopes of immortal bliss beyond the grave." 
 It is a trite and commonplace remark, that charita- 
 ble institutions have never been known to exist, ex- 
 cept in those lands illuminated by the light of rev- 
 elation. When we look along the shores of the old 
 pagan world, we behold the relics of mouldering 
 cities, pyramids, palaces, temples, villas, obelisks, 
 military columns, spacious amphitheatres, and stat- 
 ues erected to immortalize heroes, poets, and schol- 
 ars ; but nowhere in those regions do we meet the 
 remains of free public schools, orphan asylums, 
 hospitals, retreats for the destitute and unfortunate, 
 nor monuments intended to perpetuate the memory 
 of those wlio consecrated their lives to the meliora- 
 tion of humanity. They are found only in those 
 lands which have derived their ideas of glory from 
 the Hebrew Scriptures, and from the life and teach- 
 ings of Him who uttered the parable of the good 
 Samaritan. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 105 
 
 What a striking evidence of the divine origin and 
 necessity of the Bible ! This sacred volume has 
 taught the world, that for man there is no heritage 
 on earth worth the seeking, worth the asking, worth 
 the having, but an upright and beneficent life. This 
 is that building spoken of by our Saviour, that rests 
 iipon an immovable basis. When the rains de- 
 scend and the floods rage, and the winds blow and 
 beat thereon, it cannot be overthrown, for it is 
 founded upon a rock. 
 
 The names of those who built the Egyptian pyra- 
 mids are lost in oblivion. But if, instead of rearing 
 piles of magnificence for self-aggrandizement, they 
 had employed the same means in founding institu- 
 tions for the deaf and dumb, hospitals, and other 
 philanthropic establishments, their memories would 
 have been preserved green and flourishing by grate- 
 ful millions ; they would have floated down on a 
 gathering tide of glory to the last syllable of record- 
 ed time. 
 
 I staid in New Orleans this year, 1822, till the 
 middle of May. The congregations were constantly 
 as large as the house would hold. My extemporane- 
 ous style of preaching seemed to be generally accept- 
 able. Some, however, did not like me at all. One 
 gentleman of strong mind and great reading, and a 
 confirmed Deist, stopping me in the street one day, 
 spoke thus : " Since my settlement in New Orleans, 
 I never went inside of a church till Mr. Larncd came 
 here. I attended his meetings every Sabbath, not 
 because I believed in his ideas of religion, — they 
 were revolting to me, — but to enjoy the indescribable 
 
106 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 charms of his natural eloquence. I heard you 
 preach yesterday. As a didactic performance, your 
 sermon was respectable, perhaps equal to an ordina- 
 ry discourse of Mr. Larned ; but your delivery is 
 far less interesting. He seemed to speak because he 
 could not help it ; you speak in a labored manner, 
 as if it was a very unwelcome task. There is 
 nothing to interest me in your manner, and your 
 doctrines I repudiate ; but when you come across 
 poor, sick, and suffering people, call on me ; it will 
 always give me pleasure to aid in relieving them." 
 
 He was as good as his word. I cannot tell how 
 many hundreds he gave me, in times of public dis- 
 tress, to be distributed according to my best judg- 
 ment. I offered to give — but he never would 
 receive — vouchers for the faithful manner in which 
 the funds intrusted to my hands were disposed of. 
 For aught he knew to the contrary, the moneys 
 given were used for my personal emolument. 
 
 Another gentleman, a Calvinist, communicant, 
 and a constant attendant on church, urged upon me, 
 every time I saw him, the importance of getting up 
 in the Crescent City such revivals of religion as were 
 flourisliing at the north. " It makes me weep in 
 secret," he said, "when I think of the number of 
 unregenerate souls here that are hurrying to the re- 
 gions of eternal woe." Yet this man, though he was 
 wealthy, never could be persuaded to give me ten 
 dollars to relieve a sick, indigent, dying family. But 
 his creed was the very type of evangelical purity. 
 He knew the Westminster Catechism by heart, and 
 was eternally talking about justification l)y failh 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 107 
 
 alone, man's utter inability to do any thing good, 
 the glories of electing grace, and the certainty that 
 eternal damnation must be the portion of all those 
 who die in their sins. I have often revolved in my 
 mind the question, which of these characters was 
 most acceptable to God, the Deist, whose heart and 
 life were full of goodness and mercy, or the Calvin- 
 ist, whose belief and worship were in exact accord- 
 ance with prescribed, accredited formulas, but whose 
 daily walk yielded no fruits of purity or disinterest- 
 edness. 
 
 In general, I found the state of society in New 
 Orleans more agreeable than I had imagined. Most 
 of the gentlemen whom I became acquainted with 
 were distinguished for superior refinement and wide 
 knowledge of the world. Their frank, easy, open, 
 and generous hospitality was truly delightful. Most 
 of the families that I visited received me without 
 ceremony, as a friend whom they loved and confided 
 in ; not as a person preeminently holy, so purified 
 from the attachments of earth as to have no taste for 
 the scenes and enjoyments of society. One day I 
 was invited to take tea in a family of our congrega- 
 tion, and pass the evening with a small number of 
 friends. Being called to attend a wedding, I did not 
 reach the house till near ten o'clock. Instead of a 
 few persons convened simply for an hour's conversa- 
 tion, there was a large, gay company, whose move- 
 ments had resolved themselves into a dance, and were 
 directed by a band of musicians. Now, if I had fol- 
 lowed the advice of one of my venerable instructors 
 at Andovcr, I should have instantly retired, that I 
 
108 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 might not, even in appearance, have sanctioned, for 
 a moment, a species of recreation so inconsistent 
 with the dignity and serionsness of a Christian life. 
 But as I was politely conducted to a chair in the 
 midst of a circle of ladies, who preferred looking on 
 to an active participation in the festivity going for- 
 ward, I determined to make myself at home, and 
 commit what I had been taught to regard as a hein- 
 ous, nnjustifiable indulgence, by witnessing an en- 
 tertainment pronounced, among Presbyterian clergy- 
 men generally, to be sinful and injurious. There 
 was, however, in my heart, no sense of violated duty, 
 no feeling of guilt. I realized then my accountabil- 
 ity to God, and that were I to die instantly, my 
 future interests would be just as safe as if called to 
 draw my last breath in the pulpit, at a funeral, 
 by the bed of the dying, or in the sacred seclusion 
 of the closet. 
 
 I spent an hour or more in this cheerful circle, 
 where all things to the eye and ear were refined, 
 orderly, and decorous. The hearts of that company 
 were visible only to the Omniscient One. I shall 
 refer to the impressions made on my mind by their 
 external appearance. Before me stood the young 
 and happy, npon whose fates and fortunes the som- 
 bre shadows of adversity had not yet gathered ; their 
 minds were bright and buoyant, their steps elastic, 
 their ears opened to the melodies of sound, their 
 eyes radiant with pleasnre. As I was meditating 
 upon those comely brows, flushed with the bloom of 
 early life ; the fair forms of feminine grace and 
 loveliness ; the dignified, accomplished manners of 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 109 
 
 those more advanced in years ; the music ; sprightly 
 conversation, wit, love, gaycty, and joyousness which 
 characterized the whole scene, — a sweet, profound, 
 unwonted perception of God's goodness captivated 
 my soul. Such intense feelings of piety I had never 
 before experienced. I said to myself" It has, indeed, 
 pleased God, ' to make man but a little lower than 
 the angels, and to crown him with glory and honor.' 
 If he is so beautiful here, what will he not become 
 in that future state, where our loftiest ideals and 
 actual attainments both will regularly advance in a 
 progression that is infinite ! " I was rapt in delight- 
 ful visions of a spiritual world. This thought took 
 complete possession of my mind. God is too good 
 not to provide for us something nobler, better, 
 greater, more permanent, and more satisfying than 
 the transitory possessions and pleasures of time. 
 Can he present to us the chalice of existence, and 
 then dash it from our lips just as we begin to taste 
 its joys ? Is not his infinite love a pledge that he 
 will never treat us so cruelly ? Would a kind par- 
 ent promise his children favors which he never in- 
 tended to bestow on them ? Can God awaken irre- 
 pressible desires of continued, unending happiness, 
 only to be crushed out and disappointed forever ? 
 Nothing in mathematics is more certain than the 
 doctrine that the inherent, essential desires of our 
 moral nature will be completely gratified. Can they 
 be, if death is an eternal sleep ? 
 
 If the Holy Spirit ever breathed on my heart, it 
 was on that occasion, amid the music, thoughtless- 
 ness, levity, ceremonials, and sensuous attractions of 
 10 
 
110 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 an evening party. There, if ever, the inspirations 
 of God touched and ennobled my soul. Said a lady 
 who Avas sitting next to me, " Mr. Clapp, you seem 
 to be in a brown study. Are you thinking out a 
 
 sermon 
 
 ? " 
 
 " No, madam ; but a glorious subject for a ser- 
 mon has just entered my thoughts. We are cheated, 
 we arc deceived, by the very constitution of our na- 
 ture, if the pleasures of this evening are not a preli- 
 bation and foreshadowing of purer and ever-increas- 
 ing joy beyond the grave. If a bird or a beast 
 could cherish a conscious desire of happiness, this 
 fact would prove its title to an endless life." 
 
 " Indeed," continued the lady, " you have made a 
 notable discovery — the seeking of happiness even 
 in amusements demonstrates our immortality. Had 
 yoii not better preach on the subject next Sabbath ? " 
 
 Her suggestion, though made facetiously, Avas fol- 
 lowed. I took for my text Isaiah xxviii. 20 : " For 
 the bed is shorter than that a man can stretch him- 
 self on it^ and the covering narroiver than that he can 
 tvrap himself in it.''"' I began by saying, " 0, the mis- 
 ery, depression of spirits, gloom, ennui, and despair 
 of those who live below their highest capabilities and 
 aspirations ; who live in a merely physical and sensual 
 existence — a world of the bodily and animal senses ; 
 who never soar to feel their divinity, by expatiating 
 over the immortal regions of truth, knowledge, 
 beauty, and virtue ! Whatever may be the good 
 purposes for which the animal appetites and passions 
 were given us, they are a source of continual sorrow 
 and unhappiness to the pure and spiritual mind — 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. Ill 
 
 a mind that longs to rise to God, and live above the 
 plane of animal sensation only, which is so fatal to 
 honor, glory, and happiness, yet so inspiring and in- 
 vigorating to vice. The unrestrained indulgence of 
 a single natural desire, or passion of the physical 
 man, is enough to darken, prostrate, and destroy the 
 soul. This habitual neglecting to subject appetite to 
 a sense of duty is the real source of all the sin and 
 degradation on earth. 
 
 " Moreover, as intimated in the text, the person who 
 gives himself up to self-indulgence is never satisfied. 
 He chases a rainbow that is painted on a cloud, and 
 retreats before him as he advances, till finally it van- 
 ishes forever from his view. Not one of all the irre- 
 ligious millions who have lived, ever sat down for 
 one moment contented with present attainments, 
 without longing after some remote and inaccessible 
 good. They spent their days only to be broken by 
 toil, to be wasted by sickness, to be racked with 
 pain, to be desolated by one surge of sorrow after 
 another, till called to enter ' that undiscovered 
 country from whose bourn no traveller returns.' 
 Yes, my friends, like a pendulum, they were con- 
 stantly vacillating between the ecstasy of hope and 
 the lifelessness of possession — struggling, striving, 
 and wearying themselves out, till the curtain of mor- 
 tality fell, and their busy, restless, disappointed 
 hearts, crowded with plans, cares, and anticipations, 
 forgot to beat, and all their fluttering anxieties were 
 hushed forever in the cold silence of the tomb. 
 Without timely repentance, in like manner shall we 
 all perish. 
 
112 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 " What signifies this solemn fact, testified to by 
 universal experience, that our material bed and cov- 
 ering are too small for us ? What mean these im- 
 measurable longings, which no earthly forms of 
 beauty and bliss can satiate ? They teach us, my 
 friends, that at death we shall not be turned into 
 cold clay or dry dust, lifeless, senseless, and thought- 
 less, forevermore ; that the soul of man will last as 
 long as the throne of God ; that it will live through 
 more years, ages, centuries, and cycles than there 
 are drops of water in the ocean ; and even then the 
 morning of an endless existence will scarcely have 
 dawned around us ; that we have been created to 
 tread the broad and boundless pathways of a desti- 
 nation that has no limits. Solemn, sublime, incon- 
 ceivable, transporting thought ! If we realized it, 
 all the material possessions and glories around would 
 seem to us but as worthless spangles in the dust we 
 tread on — but as the baubles and playthings which 
 little children use in the sports of a summer's after- 
 noon. The pressure of sin would be removed fi'om 
 our bosoms ; free, elastic, and joyous, we should 
 stand upon the lofty eminence of Christian faith, and 
 look out upon a perspective of loveliness, rising and 
 spreading, in all the glories of immortality, beyond 
 the dark ruins of earth and time." 
 
 Such, in substance, was the sermon suggested to 
 my mind by witnesshig the profusion, splendor, and 
 beauty of a social entertainment. The lady above 
 mentioned remarked to me the next day, that last 
 Sunday's sermon was the best I had yet preached, 
 in the judgment of all the congregation. " We had 
 
REV. THEODOEE CLAPP. 113 
 
 better make a party for you once every week." Inci- 
 dents similar to the one just narrated, have given birth 
 to most of the discourses which I have delivered in 
 New Orleans. A settled minister cannot adapt his 
 homilies to the wants of his parishioners, unless 
 they are all embraced in his parochial visits ; unless 
 he is on terms of the most familiar, unreserved, and 
 intimate intercourse with them, so that they are in- 
 duced honestly to communicate to him the thoughts, 
 feelings, doubts, fears, hopes, and secrets of their 
 inmost souls. Never until I went to New Orleans 
 had I any just conception of the best mode of preach- 
 ing, nor the class of subjects which should be gener- 
 ally introduced into the pulpit. 
 
 On the 20th of ]\Iay, 1822, indispensable business 
 called me to leave the south on a jaunt to New Eng- 
 land. I returned to my post of labor before the ep- 
 idemic of that year had terminated. On my way up 
 the river, I made a pause at Louisville, to take upon 
 myself the vows of wedlock. I was married the 31st 
 of May, 1822, to Miss Adeline Hawes, a beautiful 
 and interesting young lady, originally from Boston, 
 Massachusetts, but at that time a resident of Ken- 
 tucky. For thirty-five years we have been sharers 
 of each other's joys, consolers of each other's sor- 
 rows, and helpers together amid the allotments and 
 vicissitudes which were ordained for us Ijy a wise 
 and merciful Providence. "We have had six chil- 
 dren ; three of them — one son and two daughters 
 — arc in the spirit land ; three sons survive. The 
 eldest is settled in the Crescent City ; the second is in 
 10* 
 
114 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Chicago ; the third and youngest is with his parents 
 in Louisville. 
 
 We have reason to bless God for the degree of 
 health and prosperity which have been bestowed 
 upon us in perilous times gone by ; that we still live 
 in peace and competence ; and above all, that we are 
 permitted, through Christ, to cherish the glorious 
 hope, that after having finished the eventful journey 
 of human life, we shall meet in those eternal scenes 
 of beauty and of bliss which await the children of 
 God in a brighter and better world. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 115 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 GENERAL REMARKS UPON THE EPIDEMICS WHICH HAVE 
 
 PREVAILED IN NEW ORLEANS. ASIATIC CHOLERA IN 
 
 THE FALL OF 1832 AND THE SUMMER OF 1833. 
 
 There have been twenty very sickly seasons dur- 
 ing my residence in New Orleans. The yellow fever 
 raged violently in 1822, '24, '27, '28, '29, and '30. 
 The epidemics that prevailed in '27, '28, '20, and 
 '30 were extremely fatal. In 1829, more than nine 
 hundred persons died from yellow fever alone ; yet 
 no report of these awful visitations was published 
 in the medical journals of the day. 
 
 In the excessively warm summer of 1832, my 
 strength was so much reduced, that a change of 
 climate was prescribed by friends and physicians. I 
 started with my family in a steamboat, bound for 
 Cincinnati, intending to spend the remainder of the 
 season at Niagara, Montreal, and Saratoga Springs. 
 But when I reached Ohio, news came that the chol- 
 era had made its appearance at Quebec and other 
 places. 
 
 It was travelling with great rapidity. In one 
 short month this terrific pestilence walked unseen 
 from the capital of Lower Canada westward to De- 
 troit, and in a southern direction to Lake Champlain, 
 Albany, and New York. It seemed to prefer follow- 
 
116 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 ing the courses of great rivers, like the St. Lawrence, 
 Ohio, and Mississippi. 
 
 Dr. Drake, of Cincinnati, expressed the opinion 
 tliat within a few weeks the disease would break out 
 in all our principal cities. Fearing that New Or- 
 leans might be attacked during my absence, I imme- 
 diately abandoned a journey which held out such 
 an attractive prospect, and retraced my course down 
 the river. I could not get rid of the presentiment 
 that a period of unprecedented calamity impended 
 over the Crescent City. The previous summer, in 
 the month of August, a frightful tornado had swept 
 over and inundated New Orleans. The Creoles said 
 that this was the forerunner of some frightful pesti- 
 lence. I proposed to leave Mrs. Clapp and the chil- 
 dren with her aunt in Kentucky, till the overflowing 
 scourge should pass through the land. But she 
 declined acceding to the proposition, and quoted 
 these memorable words of Scripture : " Whither 
 thou goest, I will go ; and where thou lodgest, I will 
 lodge ; thy people shall be my people, and thy God 
 my God. Where thou diest will I die, and there 
 will I be buried : tlie Lord do so to me, and more 
 also, if aught but death part thee and me." 
 
 We arrived at New Orleans, on our return home, 
 about the 1st of September. The weather was 
 most sultry and oppressive. To most of my friends 
 our conduct appeared so unwise, that they hardly 
 gave us a cordial welcome back. I said to them, 
 " ' Though neither a prophet nor the son of a proiihct,' 
 I see a dark cloud suspended over us, whicli will 
 soon discharge a tempest of unparalleled violence 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 117 
 
 and destruction." That very week, several cases of 
 yellow fever occurred in the Charity Hospital and 
 boarding houses along the levee. It soon grew into 
 an epidemic, and carried off hundreds during this 
 and the succeeding month. 
 
 On the morning of the 25tli of October, 1832, as 
 I was walking home from market, before sunrise, I 
 saw two men lying on the levee in a dying condition. 
 They had been landed from a steamboat which ar- 
 rived the night before. Some of the watchmen had 
 gone after a handbarrow or cart, on which they 
 might be removed to the hospital. At first there 
 was quite a crowd assembled on the spot. But an 
 eminent physician rode up in his gig, and gazing a 
 moment, exclaimed in a loud voice, " Those men liave 
 the Asiatic cholera." The crowd dispersed in a mo- 
 ment, and ran as if for their lives in every direction. 
 I was left almost alone with the sufferers. They 
 could speak, and were in full possession of their 
 reason. They had what I afterwards found were 
 the usual symptoms of cholera — cramps, convul- 
 sions, &c. The hands and feet were cold and blue ; 
 an icy perspiration flowed in streams ; and they com- 
 plained of a great pressure upon their chests. One 
 of them said it seemed as if a bar of iron was 
 lying across him. Their thirst was intense, which 
 caused an insufferable agony in the mouth and 
 throat. They entreated me to procure some water. 
 1 attempted to go on board the steamboat Avhich had 
 put them on shore. But the staging had been drawn 
 in to prevent all intercourse with people on the 
 levee. Thence I returned, intending to go to the 
 
118 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 nearest dwelling to get some relief for the unhappy 
 men, whom all but God had apparently deserted. 
 
 At that instant the watchmen arrived with a 
 dray. Happily, (because, perhaps, they spoke only 
 the French language,) they had no suspicion that 
 these strangers were suffering from the cholera. If 
 I had pronounced that terrific word in their hearing, 
 they too might have fled, and left the sick men to 
 perish on the cold ground. I saw them placed on 
 the vehicle, and subsequently learned that they 
 were corpses before eleven o'clock A. M. the same 
 day. 
 
 I walked home, attempting to be calm and re- 
 signed, determined to do my duty, and leave the 
 consequences with God. I said nothing to my fam- 
 ily about the sick men whom I had met, though they 
 tliought it strange that I had taken so much more 
 time than usual in going to and from the market, 
 and observed that I looked uncommonly thoughtful 
 and serious. I felt that the hour of peril had come. 
 I said in silent, inward prayer, " God, thou art my 
 refuge and fortress ; in tliee do I trust. 0, help me, 
 and strengthen me, for vain is the help of man. 
 His breath goeth forth ; he returneth to the dust ; in 
 that very day his purposes perish. O, happy is the 
 man that hath the living God for his help, whoso 
 hope is in Jehovah his God." I felt a delightful 
 sense of my dependence ; that Providence was my 
 shield and buckler, and that nothing could befall me 
 or my family, which, if we did our duty, woukl not 
 work out results great and glorious beyond all 
 thought and imagination. It seemed to me that, 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 119 
 
 trusting in the Most High, I could trample under 
 foot pain, sickness, death, and every other evil. 
 
 The weather, this morning, was very peculiar. 
 The heavens were covered with thick, heavy, damp, 
 lowering clouds, that seemed like one black ceiling, 
 spread over the whole horizon. To the eye, it almost 
 touched the tops of the houses. Every one felt a 
 strange difficulty of respiration. I never looked upon 
 such a gloomy, appalling sky before or since. Not 
 a breath of wind stirred. It was so dark, that in 
 some of the banks, offices, and private houses, candles 
 or lamps were lighted that day. 
 
 Immediately after breakfast I walked down to the 
 post office. At every corner, and around the prin- 
 cipal hotels, were groups of anxious faces. As soon 
 as they saw me, the question was put by several per- 
 sons at a time, " Is it a fact that the cholera is in the 
 city ? " I replied by describing what I had seen but 
 two hours before. Observing that many of them ap- 
 peared panic-struck, I remarked, " Gentlemen, do 
 not be alarmed. These may prove merely what the 
 doctors call sporadic cases. We do not yet know 
 that it will prevail to an alarming extent. . Let us 
 trust in God, and wait patiently the developments 
 of another morning." 
 
 That day as many persons left the city as could 
 find the means of transmigration. On my way home 
 from the post office, I walked along the levee, where 
 the two cholera patients had been disembarked but 
 three or four hours before. Several families in the 
 ncighljorhood were making preparations to move, 
 but in vain. They could not obtain the requisite 
 
120 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 vehicles. The same afternoon the pestilence entered 
 their houses, and before dark spread through several 
 squares opposite to the point where the steamer land- 
 ed the first cases. 
 
 On the evening of the 27th of October, it had made 
 its way through every part of the city. During the 
 ten succeeding days, reckoning from October 27 to 
 the 6th of November, all the physicians judged that, 
 at the lowest computation, there were five thousand 
 deaths — an average of five hundred every day. 
 Many died of wliom no account was rendered. A 
 great number of bodies, with bricks and stones tied 
 to the feet, were thrown into the river. Many were 
 privately interred in gardens and enclosures, on the 
 grounds where they expired, wdiose names were not 
 recorded in the bills of mortality. Often I was 
 kept in the burying ground for hours in succession, 
 by the incessant, unintermitting arrival of corpses, 
 over whom I was requested to perform a short 
 service. One day, I did not leave the cemetery till 
 nine o'clock at night ; the last interments were made 
 by candle light. Reaching my house faint, exliaust- 
 ed, horror-stricken, I found my family all sobbing 
 and weeping, for they had concluded, from my long 
 absence, that I was certainly dead. I never Avent 
 abroad without kissing and blessing them all, with 
 the conviction that we should never meet again on 
 earth. After bathing and taking some refreshment, 
 I started out to visit the sick. My door was thronged 
 with servants, waiting to conduct me to the rooms of 
 dying sufferers. In this kind of labor I spent most 
 of the night. At three o'clock A. M., I returned 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 121 
 
 home, threw myself down on a sofa, with directions 
 not to be called till half past five. I was engaged 
 to attend a funeral at six o'clock A. M,, 28tli Oc- 
 tober. 
 
 In the progress of my round on this occasion, I 
 met with a case of cholera whose symptoms were 
 unlike any thing that I had before witnessed. The 
 patient was perfectly free from pain, with mental 
 powers unimpaired, and suffering only from debility 
 and moral apj)rcliensions. From his looks, I should 
 have supposed that he was sinking under some kind 
 of consumption, such as prevails at the north. He 
 was an educated man, whose parents, when living, 
 were members of the Presbyterian church. His will 
 had just been made, and he believed himself to be 
 dying, which was actually the case. I have said 
 that his mind was uninjured ; more, it was quick- 
 ened to preternatural strength and activity. 
 
 When I took his hand in mine, he said, " TIic 
 physicians assure me that I must soon die ; I am 
 unprepared ; I look back with many painful regrets 
 upon the past ; I look forward to the future with 
 doubts, fears, and misgivings. What will become of 
 me?" I replied, "What, sir, is your strongest 
 wish ? " He answered, " That it may please God to 
 forgive and save me, for Christ's sake." I added, 
 " If this is the real wish of your heart, it will be grat- 
 ified, no matter how wicked or unwortliy you may be. 
 Is your father living ? " I inquired. He said, " No, 
 sir ; I saw him breathe his last in my native home. 
 He died happy, for he was good. Never shall I for- 
 get that last prayer which ho uttered in behalf of his 
 11 
 
122 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 surviving children." " Suppose," I continued, " you 
 were absolutely certain that death would introduce 
 you into the presence of that beloved parent, and 
 that he would be empowered by the Infinite One to 
 make you as happy as he pleased, and to receive you 
 to his bosom and embrace forever ; would you not 
 most willingly, joyfully, and with perfect confidence, 
 commit your fate for eternity to the decision of such 
 a pure, kind, affectionate father ? " He answered in 
 the affirmative. I said, " Is it possible that you have 
 so much confidence in an earthly parent, and at the 
 same time can hesitate to commend your spirit into 
 the hands of that heavenly Father, who loves you 
 as much as he does himself, — whose love is tran- 
 scendent, boundless, infinite, everlasting, — who can- 
 not allow you to perish, any more than he could de- 
 stroy himself? " 
 
 " I see I am in an error," he exclaimed. " God, 
 help me and strengthen me." I then made a short 
 prayer. " Can you repeat with all your heart, as in 
 the presence of God," I asked, " the words which I am 
 about to utter ? If you can, say them aloud, along with 
 me. ' My Father, who art in heaven, thou hast prom- 
 ised that thou wilt evermore draw nigh to those who 
 draw near to thee in true and earnest prayer ; that 
 thou wilt hear their cry, fulfil their desires, and help 
 them, and save them. Have pity upon me, God, 
 according to thy loving kindness ; according to the 
 multitude of thy tender mercies, hide thy face from 
 my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities. Create 
 within me, a clean heart, God ; renew within me 
 a faithful spirit ; cast me not away from thy pres- 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 123 
 
 ence, and take not thy Holy Spirit from me. Carry 
 me in thine almighty arms, and finally receive me 
 into glory. Though my flesh and my heart fail, be 
 thou, God, the strength of my heart, and my por- 
 tion forever. These blessings I humbly implore in 
 the worthy name of Jesus Christ our Saviour ; and 
 unto Thee, the only wise God, the King eternal, im- 
 mortal, and invisible, be ascribed praise and thanks- 
 giving, glory and dominion, now and forevermore. 
 Amen.' " 
 
 Every word of this prayer he repeated after me in 
 a distinct and audible voice. At the close, he ex- 
 claimed, " It is finished ; " then gazing with a fixed 
 eye, as upon some object on the ceiling over him, he 
 said, " God be praised, I see my father." Doubting 
 as to what he meant to say precisely, I asked, " What 
 father do you see, jour heavenly or your earthly 
 father?" He answered, " My earthly father. Can 
 you not see him ? There he is, (pointing upwards,) 
 smiling down upon me, arrayed in splendid garments, 
 and beckoning me to follow him to the skies. He is 
 going — he is gone." On the utterance of these 
 words, his arm, which had been raised heavenward, 
 fell lifeless, and he breathed not again. There was 
 a smile, and expression of rapture on his face which 
 lingered there for hours. It was the only good- 
 looking corpse which I saw in that epidemic. His 
 form was magnificent, his breast large and arched, 
 his whole appearance that of statue-like repose. 
 There he lay before me, as beautiful as life itself. 
 His countenance wore such a smile of ecstasy, I 
 could hardly realize that his immortal spirit had fled. 
 I laid my hand on his heart. It moved not. 
 
12-1 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 This incident made a lasting impression on my 
 mind. It deepened, it strengthened, immeasurably, 
 my belief that the soul survives the body. " Who 
 knows," said I to myself, " but every one of these 
 hundreds that are dying around me, when they draw 
 their last breath, are greeted by the disembodied 
 spirits of those whom they knew and loved on earth, 
 and who have come to convoy them to the scenes of 
 a higher and nobler existence?" 
 
 Shortly after this, I was standing by the bed of a 
 young lady in her last moments, when she called to 
 me and her mother, saying, " Do you not see my sis- 
 ter (who had died of yellow fever a few weeks be- 
 fore) there ? " pointing upwards. " There are angels 
 with her. She has come to take me to heaven." 
 Perhaps these facts are in harmony with the doc- 
 trines of modern spiritualists. One thing I know. 
 There is not a more delightful, sanctifying faith than 
 this — that as soon as we die, glorified spirits will 
 hover about us, as guardian angels, to breathe on 
 our souls their own refinement, and to point our way 
 to the heavenly mansions. 
 
 The morning after the death scene which I have 
 just described, at six o'clock, I stepped into a carriage 
 to accompany a funeral procession to the cemetery. 
 On my arrival, I found at the graveyard a large pile 
 of corpses without coffins, in horizontal layers, one 
 above the other, like corded wood. I was told that 
 there were more than one hundred bodies deposited 
 there. They had been brought by unknown per- 
 sons, at different hours since nine o'clock the even- 
 ing previous. Large trenches were dug, into which 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 125 
 
 these uncoffiued corpses were thrown indiscrimi- 
 nately. The same day, a private hospital was fonnd 
 deserted ; the physicians, nurses, and attendants 
 were all dead, or had run away. Not a living per- 
 son was in it. The wards were filled with putrid 
 bodies, which, by order of the mayor, were piled in 
 an adjacent yard, and burned, and their ashes scat- 
 tered to the winds. Could a wiser disposition have 
 been made of them ? 
 
 Many persons, even of fortune and popularity, 
 died in their beds without aid, unnoticed and un- 
 known, and lay there for days unburied. In almost 
 every house might be seen the sick, the dying, and 
 the dead, in the same room. All the stores, banks, 
 and places of business were closed. There were no 
 means, no instruments for carrying on the ordinary 
 affairs of business ; for all the drays, carts, carriages, 
 hand and common wheelbarrows, as well as hearses, 
 were employed in the transportation of corpses, in- 
 stead of cotton, sugar, and passengers. Words can- 
 not describe my sensations when I first beheld the 
 awful sight of carts driven to the graveyard, and 
 there upturned, and their contents discharged as so 
 many loads of lumber or offal, without a single mark 
 of mourning or respect, because the exigency ren- 
 dered it impossible. 
 
 The Sabbath came, and I ordered the sexton to 
 ring the bell for church at eleven o'clock A. M., as 
 usual. I did not expect to meet a half a dozen per- 
 sons ; but there was actually a congregation of two 
 or three hundred, and all gentlemen. The ladies 
 were engaged iu taking care of the sick. There was 
 11 * 
 
126 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 no singing. I made a very short prayer, and 
 preached a discourse not more than fifteen minutes 
 in length. It made such an impression that several 
 of the hearers met me at the door, and requested 
 me to write it down for their perusal and meditation. 
 I complied with the request. Here it is. My text 
 was the passage found in Isaiah xxvi. 3 : " Thou 
 wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed 
 on thee, because he trusteth in thee." 
 
 I began by rehearsing the closing lines of Bryant's 
 " Thanatopsis : " — 
 
 " ' So live, that when thy summons comes to join 
 The innumerable caravan, Mhich moves 
 To that mj-sterious realm, where each shall take 
 His chamber in the silent halls of death, 
 Thou go not like the quarry-slave at night, 
 Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed 
 By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave 
 Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
 About him and lies down to pleasant dreams.' 
 
 " My friends, death is a dispensation of love. Re- 
 flect that as many persons die every hour as there 
 are tickings of the clock in the same time. All die. 
 Not only the idiot, the fool, and the reprobate, but 
 also the best, wisest, and noblest, are laid in the 
 grave. That law which sweeps over all, irrespective 
 of moral character, cannot be a punitive infliction. 
 ]\[an would die if he were as spotless as an angel. 
 Were it not for the grave, how soon Avould this 
 globe be filled to absolute repletion ! V^'e die sim- 
 ply that we may awake to a new and nobler exist- 
 ence. We cease to live as men, that we may begin 
 to live as angels. There is a certain animal that 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 127 
 
 exists first in the shape of a worm. Its appropriate 
 element is water. At length it sinks in insensibility 
 and death. After a while, its grave opens ; it comes 
 forth from the grovelling dust a new being, an in- 
 habitant of the air, with beauteous wings and plu- 
 mage, to bask in the sunbeams, to sip the aroma of 
 the flowery world ; to move through the atmosphere, 
 a creature of ethereal endowment and loveliness, 
 lu the same manner, the soul of man must drop its 
 " mortal coil," that, disengaged from earth, sense, 
 and sin, it may be transformed into a being adapted 
 to the scenes of a higher and incorruptible existence. 
 Reflect upon the declaration of Jesus, that all 
 who die shall be made immortal. He also teaches 
 that in the immortal state they will sin no more, 
 hunger no more, thirst no more, weep no more, die 
 no more, but be like the angels of God in heaven. 
 There is no difference between the good and the bad, 
 as to the eternity of their duration. This is admitted 
 by all orthodox divines of every school and denomi- 
 nation. There is nothing frightful in death, except 
 to the unenlightened imagination. It is the slightest 
 evil that crosses the path of human life. Nay, 
 rather, it is not an evil ; it is the greatest blessing. 
 It is dust only that descends to dust. The grave 
 is the place where we shall be permitted to lay down 
 our mortality, weakness, diseases, sorrows, and sins, 
 to enter upon a higher existence, with angels, and 
 the spirits of the just made perfect. We arc taught 
 by the apostle Paul that it is impossible for either sin 
 or pain to go along with us into the unseen world. 
 "There the weary are at rest." Glorious prospect! 
 
128 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 In the eternal state, there are no bodies, no sickness, 
 no wants, no groans, no injustice, no forms of de- 
 pravity. 
 
 " Yes, my friends, if we looked at the subject 
 aright, we should rejoice in the thought, that before 
 another setting sun, before we reach our homes to- 
 day, death may come to release us from these bur- 
 dened, tempted, frail, failing, corruptible bodies, that 
 we may enter upon the wonders of a life immortal, 
 whose progressions will constantly increase, in the 
 freshness, extent, beauty, and plenitude of divine, 
 unfading, and unimaginable charms. Do not be 
 alarmed, my friends ; death cannot hurt you. ' But,' 
 you may ask, ' is there nothing for us to do, that we 
 may die in peace ? ' Yes, in the language of Scrip- 
 ture, ' you must cease to do evil, and learn to do 
 well.' If you are conscious of living in the com- 
 mission of any sin, however dear, you must resolve, 
 before you rise from your seats, to renounce it for- 
 ever, and cast yourselves on that boundless mercy, 
 revealed by Him who is the conqueror over Death, 
 and saith to us all, ' He tliat trustcth in me shall 
 
 NEVER, NEVER DIE.' 
 
 " Our eternal existence and bliss depend upon 
 laws which we can neither create, cancel, nor mod- 
 ify. They will be brought about in God's own time 
 and way ; by influences just as resistless as those that 
 produce day and night, the descent of rivers, the 
 tides of the ocean, or the succession of the seasons. 
 May the grace of our Lord Jesus Clirist, the love 
 of God, and the fellowship of their Holy Spirit, be 
 with you all, to-day and forever. Amen." 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 129 
 
 111 the above homily, I stated what I sincerely be- 
 lieved to be sound, scriptural views of death. Any 
 doctrines calculated to inspire men with a dread of 
 the grave are false, heathenish, and atheistical. 
 The next day, a gentleman said to me, " I verily be- 
 lieve that your sermon, yesterday, saved my life. I 
 went into church frightened, weak, in utter despair ; 
 I came out calm, resigned, full of hope, and able to 
 tread cholera, death, and all other ills under my 
 feet." 
 
 For several days after this Sabbath, the plague 
 raged with unabated violence. But the events, toils, 
 trials, and gloom of one day, in this terrific visitation, 
 were a facsimile of those that characterized the 
 whole scene. A fatal yellow fever had been spread- 
 ing destruction in the city six weeks before the chol- 
 era commenced. Thousands had left it to escape 
 this scourge. So that, at the time of the first chol- 
 era, it was estimated that the population of the 
 city did not exceed thirty-five thousand inhabitants. 
 During the entire epidemic, at least six thousand per- 
 sons perished ; showing the frightful loss of one sixth 
 of the people in about twelve days. This is the most 
 appalling instance of mortality known to have hap- 
 pened in any part of the world, ancient or modern. 
 Yet, in all the accounts of the ravages of this enemy, 
 in 1832, published in the northern cities and Europe, 
 its desolations in New Orleans are not even noticed — 
 a fact which requires no comment. The same ratio 
 of mortality in Boston, the next twelve days, would 
 call for more than twenty-three thousand victims. 
 Who can realize this truth ? The same epidemic 
 
130 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 broke out again the following summer, in June, 1833. 
 In September of" the same year, the yellow fever 
 came back again. So, within the space of twelve 
 months, we had two Asiatic choleras, and two epi- 
 demic yellow fevers, which carried off ten thousand 
 persons that were known, and many more that were 
 not reported. 
 
 Multitudes began the day in apparently good 
 health, and were corpses before sunset. One morn- 
 ing, as I was going out, I spoke to a gentleman who 
 resided in the very next house to mine. He was 
 standing at his door, and remarked that he felt very 
 well ; " but I wonder," lie added, " that you are 
 alive." On my return, only two hours afterwards, 
 he was a corpse. A baker died in his cart directly 
 before my door. Near me there was a brick house 
 going up ; two of the workmen died on a carpenter's 
 bench, but a short time after they had commenced 
 their labors for the day. Often did it happen that a 
 jjcrson engaged a coffin for some friend, who himself 
 died before it could be finished. On a certain even- 
 ing, about dark, a gentleman called on me to say a 
 short service over the body of a particular friend, 
 just deceased : the next morning I performed the 
 same service for him. I went, one Wednesday night, 
 to solemnize the contract of matrimony between a 
 couple of very genteel appearance. The bride was 
 young, and possessed of the most extraordinary 
 beauty. A few hours only had elapsed before I was 
 summoned to perform the last offices over her coffin. 
 She had on her bridal dress, and was very little 
 changed in the appearance of her face. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 131 
 
 Three unmarried gentlemen, belonging to my con- 
 gregation, lived together and kept bachelor'' s hall, as it 
 is termed witli us. I "was called to visit one of them 
 at ten o'clock P. M. He lived but a few moments 
 after I entered the room. Wliilst I was conversing 
 with the survivors, a second brother was taken wdtli 
 cramps. There was nobody in the house but the 
 servants. They were especially dear to me be- 
 cause of their intrinsic character, and because they 
 were regular attendants at church. We instantly 
 applied the usual remedies, but without success. 
 At one o'clock in the morning he breathed his last. 
 The only surviving brother immediately fell beside 
 the couch of the lifeless ones, and at daylight he 
 died. "We laid the three corpses side by side. 
 
 One family, of nine persons, supped together in 
 perfect health ; at the expiration of the next twenty- 
 four hours, eight out of the nine were dead. A 
 boarding house, that contained thirteen inmates, was 
 absolutely emptied ; not one was left to mourn. 
 
 Persons were found dead all along the streets, 
 particularly early in the mornings. For myself, I 
 expected that the city would be depopulated. I 
 have no doubt, that if the truth could be ascertained, 
 it would appear that those persons who died so sud- 
 denly were affected with what are called the pre- 
 monitory symptoms hours, perhaps a day, or a 
 night, before they considered themselves unwell. In 
 this early stage, the disease is easily arrested ; but 
 when the cramps and collapse set in, death is, in 
 most cases, inevitable. Indeed, that is death. Then, 
 nothinft- was known of the cholera, and its antecedent 
 
132 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 stages were unnoticed and uncared for. Hence, in 
 a great measure, the suddenness as well as the ex- 
 tent of the mortality. 
 
 Nature seemed to sympathize in the dreadful spec- 
 tacle of human woe. A thick, dark atmosphere, as 
 I said before, hung over us like a mighty funereal 
 shroud. All was still. Neither sun, nor moon, nor 
 stars shed their blessed light. Not a breath of air 
 moved. A hunter, who lived on the Bayou St. 
 John, assured me that during the cholera he killed 
 no game. Not a bird was seen winging the sky. 
 Artificial causes of terror were superadded to the 
 gloom which covered the heavens. The burning of 
 tar and pitch at every corner ; the firing of cannon, 
 by order of the city authorities, along all the streets ; 
 and the frequent conflagrations which actually oc- 
 curred at that dreadful period, — all these conspired 
 to add a sublimity and horror to the tremendous 
 scene. Our wise men hoped, by the combustion of 
 tar and gunpowder, to purify the atmosphere. We 
 have no doubt that hundreds perished from mere 
 fright produced by artificial noise, the constant sight 
 of funerals, darkness, and various other causes. 
 
 It was an awful spectacle to see night ushered in 
 by the firing of artillery in different parts of the 
 city, making as much noise as arises from the en- 
 gagement of two powerful armies. The sight was 
 one of the most tremendous which was ever pre- 
 sented to the eye, or even exhibited to the imagina- 
 tion, in description. Often, walking my nightly 
 rounds, the flames from the burning tar so illumi- 
 nated the city streets and river, that I could see every 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 133 
 
 thing almost as distinctly as in tho daytime. And 
 through many a windo^y into which was flung the 
 sickly, flickering light of these conflagrations, could 
 be seen persons struggling in death, and rigid, black- 
 ened corpses, awaiting tho arrival of some cart or 
 hearse, as soon as dawn appeared, to transport them 
 to their final resting place. 
 
 During these ineffable, inconceivable horrors, I 
 was enabled to maintain my post for fourteen days, 
 without a moment's serious illness. I often sank 
 down upon the floor, sofa, or pavement, faint and 
 exhausted from over-exertion, sleeplessness, and want 
 of food ; but a short nap would partially restore me, 
 and send me out afresh to renew my perilous labors. 
 For a whole fortnight, I did not attempt to undress 
 except to bathe and put on clean apparel. I was 
 like a soldier, who is not allowed, by the constant 
 presence of an enemy, to throw off his armor, and 
 lay down his weapons for a single moment. Morn- 
 ing, noon, and midnight, I was engaged in the sick 
 room, and in performing services over the dead. 
 The thought that I myself should be exempted from 
 the scourge — how could it be cherished for a mo- 
 ment ? I expected that every day would be my last. 
 Yet, as I said before, I did not have the slightest 
 symptom of the cholera. Two things render this 
 fact very remarkable. 
 
 First, I took no regular meals during all this time, 
 and really suffered a great deal from hunger. Peo- 
 ple stopped sending to market, and cooking, in a 
 great measure. They were afraid to eat any sub- 
 stantial food. One day, passing by the house of a 
 12 
 
134 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Spanish gentleman, a total stranger, I smelt some- 
 thing savory, and took the liberty to go in. He, 
 with two or three others, was dining. On the board 
 there were shrimps, cabbage, and bacon, with a good 
 supply of garlic. I told them who I was, and begged 
 for something to eat. They treated me very kindly. 
 I sat down, and gratified my appetite with fish, vege- 
 tables, boiled ham, garlic, and a glass of gin, and 
 then went on my way refreshed. Meeting a physi- 
 cian at the next square, I told him what 1 had done. 
 He exclaimed, " You are a dead man ; you will be 
 attacked with the cholera in one hour." 
 
 But I felt not the least inconvenience from the 
 dinner I had eaten. I am satisfied that in cholera 
 times, one may partake of any diet that he likes, in 
 moderation, with perfect impunity. I have always 
 acted on this belief. More are killed by medicine, 
 starving, and fright, than from eating improper food. 
 A mistaken opinion as to this subject has arisen from 
 the fact that multitudes have been seized with chol- 
 era directly after receiving a breakfast, dinner, or 
 supper, and have immediately ejected their food as 
 it was taken. Plence they have fancied that what 
 they ate brought on sickness. No. One of the in- 
 variable effects of the cholera is to suspend the pro- 
 cess of digestion ; and of course one of tlie peculiar 
 consequences of the disease is falsely ascribed to the 
 deleterious influence of some species of food. To 
 1)0 sure, gluttony and intemperance may bring on 
 this epidemic ; but they are hurtful at all times. 
 
 Secondly, my escape was wonderful, considered in 
 another respect. For fifteen days in succession, the 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 135 
 
 atmosphere was loaded with tlic most deadly malaria, 
 and every species of" noxious inii)urity. I had to 
 encounter not only the general insalubrity which 
 always infects tlic air when cholera j)revails, hut to 
 this were superadded the constant iidialations of 
 the sick-bed eflluvium which emanates from corpses 
 in every stage of decomposition, in which life had 
 been extinct for days, perhaps, and the offensive 
 smells of the cemetery. Most of the bodies laid in 
 the ground had a covering of earth but a few inches 
 in depth, and through the porous dust there was an 
 unimpeded emission of all the gases evolved from 
 animal matter, when undergoing the process of pu- 
 trefaction. The sick poor were often crowded to- 
 gether in low, narrow, damp, basement, unventilated 
 rooms. 
 
 Many times, on entering these apartments, and 
 putting my head under the mosquito bar, I became 
 deadly sick in a moment, and was taken with vomit- 
 ing, which, however, passed off without producing 
 serious effects in a single instance. Let the reader 
 imagine a close room, in which are lying half a dozen 
 bodies in the process of decay, and he may form a 
 faint conception of the physical horrors in which 
 I lived, moved, and had my being continually for 
 two entire weeks. My preservation has always 
 seemed to me like a miracle. It is true, some con- 
 stitutions are not susceptible of the cholera. Some 
 can never take the yellow fever or small i)OX. It is 
 not improbable that my safety ought to be ascril)ed 
 to some peculiar idiosyncrasy, which enabled me to 
 breathe the air of this plague with impunity. 
 
136 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 111 1822, I knew an iinacclimatcd gentleman who 
 slept on the same bed with an intimate friend, whilst 
 he was sick of the yellow fever: on the morning 
 of his death, he himself, his clothes, and the sheets, 
 were absolutely inundated by a copious discharge of 
 the vomito. After the funeral, he continued to oc- 
 cupy the same room, and had the best health all that 
 summer and autumn. During the next thirty 
 years, he never left the city for a day, and was never 
 sick. I have known numerous instances of the 
 kind. Such phenomena doubtless result from natural 
 causes ; yet they do not happen without the appoint- 
 ment and providence of our heavenly Father. 
 
 An atheist, in the midst of the first cholera, spoke 
 to me, one day, tlie following words, in substance: 
 " Mr. Clapp, you are laboring very hard among the 
 sick and dying ; I admire your benevolent and self- 
 sacrificing spirit ; you aid in imparting to the wretch- 
 ed victims medicine, nursing, &c. By these material 
 agencies, I believe you have already saved some lives. 
 All this is achieved in harmony with the philosophi- 
 cal relation of cause and effect. But do you really 
 imagine that your prayers can accomplish any good 
 whatever ? The cholera has a certain mission to 
 fulfil. It will march forward to its destined goal, 
 regardless of the chants of choirs, or the prayers of 
 saints. Its movements are determined by blind, un- 
 discriminating, and resistless laws. 
 
 " When you ask God for favors in behalf of a sick 
 man, which will be conferred upon him sooner or 
 later by the operation of inevitable, necessary laws, 
 your petitions are of course entirely useless. It is 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 137 
 
 equally apparent, that when you implore that assist- 
 ance of Heaven which cannot be granted consistently 
 with the ordinances of nature, your prayers are ut- 
 terly nugatory. They cannot avert the cholera, nor 
 any of the innumerable ills to which we arc liable, 
 any more than by a word you could stay the cat- 
 aract of Niagara, or arrest the planets in their 
 course." 
 
 This gentleman was apparently as moral a man as 
 I have ever met with. Just, sincere, self-denying, 
 kind, exemplary in all his life and conduct, I re- 
 spected his character and motives, and felt that I 
 was bound to answer his interrogatories honestly. 
 " In the first place," I replied, " we pray because we 
 cannot help it, any more than we can help breathing. 
 It is an irrepressible tendency of our nature. I have 
 not seen a person die in this epidemic, in possession 
 of his reason, who did not wish to have me pray for 
 him. You cannot, by reasoning, prevent men from 
 eating when they are hungry, or seeking the refresh- 
 ment of nightly repose after the fatigues of the 
 day. So neither can you dissuade them from pray- 
 ing in scenes of sickness, trouble, and death. They 
 want prayer just as much as they want the light and 
 air of heaven. Now, suppose it to be in point of 
 fact, philosophically considered, inefficacious ; still, 
 it gives the sufferer, at least, temporary consolation. 
 It makes him feel as if lie were in the hands of a 
 Supreme Being, who will take care of him, the ever- 
 blessed and only potentate — potentate over the laws 
 of nature, over the events of time, sickness, death, and 
 the grave. Call it a delusion, if you please ; yet it 
 12 * 
 
138 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 inspires the dying man with a soothing and unfalter- 
 ing trust, which enables him to meet a final hour 
 with composure, feeling the triumphant assurance 
 that though death must destroy his body, it cannot 
 separate his immortal soul from God, from the soci- 
 ety of spiritual beings, nor from eternal communion 
 with a beauty and grandeur infinitely surpassing 
 those of the visible, material creation. 
 
 " Besides, I must say, that to me your reasoning 
 is inconclusive. Your assertion is, that the universe 
 is so organized, that the efficacy of prayer is an ab- 
 solute impossibility. Now, prove it. Assertion is 
 not proof. You take the ground that the laws of 
 nature, forsooth, will not permit the Supreme to an- 
 swer the just, sincere, devout, and reasonable peti- 
 tions of his children. He is prevented from doing 
 so by difficulties of his own creating. Allow me to 
 ask, ' How do you know that such is the case ? Have 
 you seen every thing ? Have you travelled quite 
 through the regions of immensity ? Have you vis- 
 ited all these worlds upon worlds that revolve in 
 space ? Can you tell what " varied being peoples 
 every star " ? Is your reason capable of receiving all 
 truth ? Is your knowledge the measure of all that 
 is possible in a boundless universe ? Can you stretch 
 your inch of line across the theatre of our Creator's 
 works ? ' Why, sir, you cannot prove it to be absurd 
 for God to work miracles in answer to prayer. Yes, 
 for the accomplishment of special purposes, and with 
 reference to particular persons and exigencies. He 
 may consistently, for aught we can show to the con- 
 trary, actually suspend the laws of nature, cause 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 139 
 
 heat to lower instead of raising the mercury of the 
 thermometer, rivers to ascend on an inclined plain, 
 water not to drown, poison not to kill, lire not to 
 consume, and cold not to freeze. 
 
 " But, waiving this point, to me it is plain, that with- 
 out the aid of miracles the Almighty could answer 
 prayer by the mere arrangement or instrumentality 
 of nature's eternal and unchanging laws, as you call 
 them. The power of arrangement simply may pro- 
 duce results to us vast and immeasurable. Take as 
 an example what in the scientific world is called 
 galvanism. This, as you know, is in nature identi- 
 cal with lightning. You are familiar with the ef- 
 fects of this tremendous agent. You also are 
 aware that it is a power awakened by the mere using 
 of certain arrangements of various substances. If a 
 finite being can achieve so much by wielding nature's 
 laws in a particular direction, what cannot the Infi- 
 nite One accomplish by similar means ? Remember 
 that the cholera, or any other epidemic, is an effect. 
 What is its cause ? >^onie substance, poison or ma- 
 laria, (call it what you please,) imperceptible to tlie 
 senses, of whose nature and pro[)crties we arc conse- 
 (picntly ignorant. It is admitted that for every 
 poison in nature there is an antidote : that is, some 
 substance, which, if brought to bear upon it, can 
 destroy or neutralize its deleterious tendencies. It 
 is perfectly easy, then, for the ever-present, omnipo- 
 tent Father, l^y the mere order or juxtaposition of 
 different substances, to turn away disease, in answer 
 to prayer from individuals, families, or cities. By 
 the use of natural laws, it may please God to pre- 
 
140 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 serve me in this pestilence, which is now destroying 
 hundreds on every side. Suppose that, with your 
 limited intelligence, you had the power to arrange 
 and direct the laws of nature throughout tlie State 
 of Louisiana. In the exercise of such a commission, 
 what could you not achieve ? You might raise its 
 inhabitants to heaven, or sink them to perdition. 
 How easy, then, would it be for the infinite mind, 
 by similar means, to answer the prayers of his chil- 
 dren, from the angel who bends before the glories of 
 the unveiled throne, down to the humblest believer 
 that treads these low vales of sin and sorrow ! De- 
 pend upon it, nothing is more reasonable than the 
 doctrine that God hears and answers prayer. On 
 this topic nothing is more absurd than scepticism. 
 The largest faith, as to this point, is nearest the 
 truth." 
 
 This argument against my unbelieving friend was 
 strikingly illustrated and confirmed by what actually 
 occurred in the city, a few days after our interview. 
 The cholera had been raging with unabated fury for 
 fourteen days. It seemed as if the city was destined 
 to be emptied of its inhabitants. During tliis time, 
 as before stated, a thick, dark, sultry atmosphere 
 filled our city. Every one complained of a difficulty 
 in breathing, which he never before experienced. 
 The heavens were as stagnant as the mantled pool 
 of death. There were no In^cezes. At the close of 
 the fourteenth day, about eight o'clock in the 
 evening, a smart storm, something like a tornado, 
 came from tlie north-west, accompanied with heavy 
 peals of thunder and terrific lightnings. Tlie deadly 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 141 
 
 air was displaced immediately, by that wliicli was new, 
 fresh, salubrious, aud life-giving. The next morn- 
 ing shone forth all bright and beautiful. The plague 
 was stayed. In the opinion of all the medical gen- 
 tlemen who were on the spot, that change of weather 
 terminated the epidemic. At any rate, it took its 
 departure from us that very hour. No new cases 
 occurred after that storm. It is certainly, then, in the 
 power of God, not only by wind and electricity, but 
 also by other means innumerable beyond our powers 
 of discernment, to deliver a city from pestilence, in 
 answer to the prayers of his children. Some one 
 has said that " a little philosophy may make one an 
 unbeliever, but that a great deal will make him a 
 Christian." 
 
 I think it very wrong to apply disparaging epithets 
 to any person on account of his honest opinions on 
 religious matters. A minister should never de- 
 nounce, but he may discuss, and entreat with all 
 long-suffering and forbearance. I said to this gen- 
 tleman, as he was leaving me, " Your philosophy 
 may be right and mine wrong. You are a higidy 
 gifted man. I bow to the superiority of your genius. 
 You are wise, prudent, and sagacious, as to all mat- 
 ters appertaining to the present world. You are no- 
 ble and upright in your secular plans and enterprises. 
 Yet allow me to assure you that, by neglecting com- 
 munion with God in habitual prayer, you suffer a 
 loss, a diminution of happiness, that no words of 
 mine can depict. There is a higher wisdom in 
 heaven and earth ' than is dreamt of in your philos- 
 ophy.' Prayer would -make you a happier being. 
 
142 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 Prayer would impart to you, amid the mournful 
 vicissitudes and trials of earth, a deep, calm, and 
 immovable peace — a prelibation of that which is en- 
 joyed in the spirit-land of the blessed and immortal." 
 
 The young man with whom I had the above collo- 
 quy was the son of a Presbyterian clergyman. He 
 manifested great respect and love for his father, but 
 complained that he would never allow him to reason 
 about religion. He actually supposed that all the 
 follies and absurdities of Calvinism were taught in 
 the Bible. " I cannot believe in such a book," he 
 said. I replied, " Neither could I, if your supposi- 
 tion were correct. But I cannot find a distinguish- 
 ing doctrine of the Calvinistic system in the Scrip- 
 tures." 
 
 It is a curious fact, that though this man died in 
 unbelief, yet he sent for me to visit him on his death 
 bed. He fell a victim of the second cholera, which 
 occurred in June, 1833. Entering his room I found 
 him in perfect possession of his faculties. He said, 
 " I am about to die. My belief is unchanged. 
 I hold that man is nothing after death. Yet 
 I look upon my decease with no apprehension. I 
 have no solicitude and no regrets. I am in peace 
 with all the world. To me existence has been a 
 great blessing. But I am willing to take my exit 
 from the stage of life, to afford room for a successor. 
 I shall soon close my eyes, never again to open them ; 
 never again to gaze on this beautiful and magnificent 
 universe. I have sent for you because I love and 
 respect you. I also wanted to have you see with 
 what calm, conscious serenity I can submit to my fate. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 143 
 
 ' Like bubbles on a sea of matter borne, 
 "We rise and break, and to that sea retvu'n.' " 
 
 "Do you indeed love my society?" I inquired. 
 " Now, suppose it was optional with you, when you 
 die, either to be annihilated, or, leaving behind your 
 lifeless dust, to pass off to a world destined to enjoy 
 forever the highest means of both physical and men- 
 tal happiness, where sin, pain, want, sorrow, and 
 trouble cannot enter, where you would meet all the 
 lost and loved ones of earth, to be separated from 
 them no more, and where you would rise from one 
 scene of knowledge, refinement, and bliss to another 
 without ever reaching the ultimate boundary of im- 
 provement. You like to see me here — would you 
 not like to see me hereafter ? " 
 
 " I confess," he replied, " that a conscious, intelli- 
 gent, continued, ever-progressive existence is the 
 most glorious destiny which we can conceive of. 
 It is a captivating ideal. It is so lovely that men 
 cling to it in defiance of reason and argument. I 
 conceive that we are so organized that we cannot 
 help loving and longing for immortality." 
 
 " Do you not remember," I continued, " the lines 
 of Addison, — 
 
 ' 'Tis the divinitj' that stirs within us ; 
 'Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, 
 And intimates eternity to man.' 
 
 Again allow me to recall to your recollection the 
 words of the poet, whom you just now quoted, — 
 
 ' He sees why nature plants in man alone 
 Hope of known bliss, and faith in bliss unknown ; 
 Nature, whose dictates to no other kind 
 Are given in vain, but what they seek they find.' " 
 
144 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 " Yes," he went on to say, "poets and preachers 
 agree in their charming descriptions of a higher and 
 heavenly hfe beyond this vale of tears. But every 
 grave which is dug refutes their unfounded theo- 
 ries." I then suggested this thought. " You hold 
 that there is no God ; that some blind, unintelligent, 
 resistless law caused you to be born, to grow up, to 
 go through the mingled allotments of the past, and 
 will, in a few moments, command you back to mix 
 again with the elements whence you were taken. 
 Now, what evidence have you that this same stern, 
 unrelenting influence may not cause you, after 
 death, (according to the metempsychosis taught by 
 Pythagoras,) to enter the body of some brute, or to 
 sink to lower and lower degrees of wretchedness 
 throughout eternity ? If we are not in the hands of 
 a Father whose attributes are infinite love, wisdom, 
 and power, then we have nothing to hope for, and 
 the worst to fear, then the doctrine of endless mis- 
 ery, which your good, venerable parent believed in, 
 may turn out to be true at last." 
 
 As I perceived that he was fast declining, I stopped 
 the conversation at this point, and requested the fa- 
 vor of bidding him farewell, as I did all my dying 
 friends, by rehearsing a few texts of Scripture, and of- 
 fering a prayer. I opened the Bible, and pronounced 
 some sentences from different chapters, giving what I 
 believed to be the true sense of the original, in my 
 own words. " Jesus Christ has abolished death, and 
 brought life and immortality to light in the gospel. 
 For we know that when our earthly tabernacles shall 
 be dissolved, we shall enter a building of God, an 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 145 
 
 house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 
 As the children of Adam must all descend to the 
 tomb, so they must all one day be made alive in 
 Christ. The future state will be the complete an- 
 tithesis of the present. 
 
 " This side the grave all men arc mortal ; beyond 
 it, they will all be immortal. Here, all are corrupti- 
 ble ; there, all will be incorruptible. Here, all are 
 in a greater or less degree sinful ; there, all will be 
 holy. Here, all are weak ; there, all will be strong, 
 incapable of fatigue or infirmity. Here, all are de- 
 based ; there, all will be made glorious. All who 
 die, both good and bad, just and unjust, shall be 
 raised up again, and admitted to a resurrection state. 
 And in that resurrection state, they shall liunger no 
 more, thirst no more, weep no more, sin no more, 
 die no more, but be as the angels of God in heaven. 
 And there shall be no more curse, but the throne of 
 God and the Lamb shall triumph over all evil." 
 
 This reading was followed by a prayer, in nearly 
 the following Avords : " My Father, who art in 
 heaven, I commend this beloved friend, from whom 
 I am soon to be separated for a short time, to thy 
 infinite love and mercy, through Jesus Christ our 
 Lord. I thank thee for the assurance that he can- 
 not be crushed nor hurt by the forces of time, nature, 
 deatli, or the grave. I bless thee for the revelation 
 of the gospel, that his soul is a germ of thine own 
 infinite, eternal, uncreated, and unchanging life ; 
 that therefore it must live, and advance in knowl- 
 edge, worth, brightness, and beatitude, long as thy 
 ever-blessed throne shall endure. Amen." At the 
 13 
 
146 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 conclusion, he exclaimed, with a feeble but distinct 
 voice, " So mote it be. I fear nothing." He spoke 
 not again. Fifteen minutes afterwards, his pulse 
 ceased to beat. 
 
 I cannot believe that this man was insincere in the 
 views which he expressed concerning the soul's ever- 
 lasting extinction. He gave every evidence of an 
 undoubting assurance in the reality of those opinions 
 which he avowed. He led a most moral, upright, 
 and charitable life. He did not disbelieve on account 
 of his great wickedness, nor because he was afraid 
 of punishment in a future state, according to the 
 usual representations of the pulpit. He was alto- 
 gether too intelligent and noble to be actuated by a 
 principle so debasing. His was a mind singularly 
 earnest, honest, and conscientious. He met the final 
 scene in this brief drama of existence with an un- 
 shaken equanimity, and expired as calmly as an 
 infant falls to sleep in its mother's arms. I go so 
 far as to say, that he left the world in the exercise 
 of a humble and Christian spirit. As he was breath- 
 ing his last, the image conveyed in the following 
 stanza was forcibly impressed on my mind : — 
 
 " How sweet the scene when good men die, 
 
 When noble souls retire to rest ! 
 How mildly beams the closing eye, 
 
 How calmly heaves th' expiring breast ! 
 So fades a summer cloud away ; 
 
 So sinks a gale, when storms are o'er ; 
 So gently shuts the eye of day ; 
 
 So dies a wave along the shore." 
 
 In all my experiences, I never saw an unbeliever 
 die in fear. I have seen them expire, of course, 
 
REV. THEODORE ("LAPP. 147 
 
 without any hopes or expectations, but never in agi- 
 tation from dread, or niis^givings as to what might 
 befall them hereafter. I know that clergymen gen- 
 erally assert that this final event passes with some 
 dreadful visitation of unknown, inconceivable agony, 
 over the soul of the departing sinner. It is imagined 
 that in his case the pangs of dissolution are dread- 
 fully aggravated by the upbraidings of a guilty con- 
 science, and by the unwillingness, the reluctance of 
 the spirit to be torn with ruthless violence from its 
 mortal tenement, and hurried by furies into the pres- 
 ence of an avenging Judge. But this is all a picture 
 of superstitious fancy. It is probable that I have 
 seen a greater number of those called irreligious 
 persons breathe their last, than any clergyman in the 
 United States. Before they get sick, the unaccli- 
 mated are often greatly alarmed ; but when the en- 
 emy seizes them, and their case is hopeless, they 
 invariably either lose their reason, or become calm, 
 composed, fearless, and happy. This fact is a strik- 
 ing illustration of the benevolence of our Creator. 
 If men's minds were not disturbed by false and mis- 
 erable teachings, they would not suffer in death any 
 more than they do when they fall asleep at night. 
 Death is called a sleep in Scripture. " Death is the 
 sleep of the weary. It is repose — the body's re- 
 pose, after the busy and toilsome day of life is over." 
 Even the convulsive struggles of the dying are not 
 attended with pain, any more than the sobs and 
 groans with which we sometimes sink into the slum- 
 bers of nightly rest. This is proved by the testi- 
 mony of those who have been resuscitated after they 
 
148 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 became cold and pulseless, and restored again to life 
 and breath. Their agonies were all seeming, not 
 real, they tell iis. 
 
 Persons without religion often die uttering words 
 which indicate what are their strongest earthly loves 
 or attachments, their " ruling passion." A young 
 man of my acquaintance was once in that stage of the 
 yellow fever superinduced by the beginning of mor- 
 tification. Then the patient is free from pain, some- 
 times joyous, and very talkative. The individual I 
 am speaking of was perfectly enamoured of novel 
 reading. One of Walter Scott's romances was daily 
 expected in New Orleans. Not many minutes before 
 his death, it was brought to his bed by a friend 
 whom he had sent to procure it. It was placed in 
 his hands, but he was no longer able to see printing. 
 The pages of the book, and the faces of his friends, 
 were growing dim around him. He exclaimed, " I 
 am blind ; I cannot see ; I must be dying ; must I 
 leave this new production of immortal genius un- 
 read ? " His last thought was dictated by his favor- 
 ite pursuit and passion. Men must carry into the 
 other world the character which they possess at the 
 moment of death. 
 
 I knew another gentleman, whose admiration for 
 the Emperor Napoleon amounted to a monomania. 
 He had collected all the biographies, histories, and 
 other works tending to illustrate his life and charac- 
 ter. This one theme liad taken such exclusive pos- 
 session of his mind, that he could neither think nor 
 converse on any other subject. He was taken with 
 the yellow fever. I went to see him when he was 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 149 
 
 near his end. I took him by the hand, and hardly- 
 had time to speak, before he asked me what I thought 
 of the moral character of Napoleon. The gentlemen 
 standing by could not suppress a smile. I replied, 
 that according to the representations of Las Casas, 
 and others most intimately acquainted with him, 
 Bonaparte was a firm believer in God, a divine prov- 
 idence, Jesus Christ, and immortality ; and that it 
 gave me great pleasure to believe in the correctness 
 of their statements. He was of course delighted 
 with the answer given. I read from the Bible. I 
 then asked him if there were any particular subjects 
 or favors which he would have embraced in my 
 prayer. He answered, " There is but one blessing 
 which I crave of Infinite Goodness — that after 
 death, I may be conducted to those celestial regions 
 where I can enjoy the sight and society of the great- 
 est and best man who has lived — the late Emperor 
 of France." Poor man ! He could think of no 
 higher, no nobler destiny. 
 
 It would be well were all to remember that groat, 
 glorious thoughts, habitually cherished, spontane- 
 ously fill the mind in a dying hour, to bear it aloft 
 and buoyant over the dark gulf. 
 
 In all my experiences in New Orleans, I have met 
 with no dying persons who were terrified, except 
 church members who had been brought up in the 
 Trinitarian faith. Let me not be misunderstood. I 
 do not mean to insinuate that these individuals were 
 not good Christians. They were perfectly sincere, 
 and this very sincerity was the cause of their fear 
 and apprehensions. One, to whom I allude, em- 
 13* 
 
150 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 braced the Calvinistic doctrine of election. He Avas 
 a just, conscientious, most excellent man. I knew 
 him intimately. His last words were, " I have no 
 hope ; all is dark. There is a bare possibility that I 
 may be saved." This was the language of honesty. 
 For he held that salvation would be conferred upon 
 only a part of mankind, elected to this destiny by a 
 decree of God — eternal, immutable, and altogether 
 irrespective of character and works, and all the 
 remainder would be doomed to eternal woe, without 
 any regard to their merit or demerit. No honest 
 man, with such a creed, could die without the great- 
 est dread and anxiety. For if God has inflexibly 
 determined to destroy a portion of his children, 
 however pure and good they may be, no one can 
 know absolutely, from his character, that he is 
 among the saved ; no one can feel certain of en- 
 joying final, everlasting happiness. 
 
 When I first entered the clerical profession, I was 
 struck with the utter insufficiency of most forms of 
 Christianity to afford consolation in a dying hour. 
 Paul says, the revelation of Jesus was given " to 
 deliver those, who, through fear of death, were all 
 their lifetime subject to bondage." Ancient pagan 
 literature invariably represents death as the greatest 
 calamity of human existence ; it was denominated the 
 stern, terrible, insatiate, cold, bitter, merciless " foe." 
 It was the avenue to an eternal night ; where the fair, 
 the venerated, and the loved would be lost beyond 
 recovery. If all this were true, wc might justly 
 say, " Speak not to us of consolation ; there is no 
 consolation ; there is no support for such a lot as 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 151 
 
 ours ; nothing but dulness can bear it ; nothing but 
 stupidity can tolei-atc it ; and nothing but idiocy 
 could be indifferent to it." Jesus came into the 
 world to announce tlie sublime doctrine that no one 
 ever was, or ever will be, injured by death ; that 
 death is not so much as the interruption of existence ; 
 that death, indeed, is only death in appearance, 
 while in reality the sjnrit's life is progressive, ever 
 continued, and immortal. 
 
 Whoever, then, advocates those views of death, 
 the belief of which tends to make its recipients 
 afraid to die, ignores the messages of the gospel on 
 this momentous theme. The great prominent truth 
 of the Bible is, that, in every instance, " the day of 
 one's death is better than the day of his birth." 
 All these efforts to make death a scarecrow, to 
 frighten men into the church, are as low and de- 
 basing as they are irrational and anti-Christian. 
 Death is not the enemy, but the friend, of man. 
 
 Not the blue sky, not the richest landscape, not 
 the flowers of spring, not all the charms of music, 
 poetry, eloquence, art, or literature, present to our 
 contemplation any thing so lovely and magnificent as 
 death and its consequences, viewed through the tel- 
 escope of the New Testament. Yet almost all the 
 clergy, for fifteen hundred years, have employed their 
 utmost genius, learning, and oratory to portray, in 
 colors so appalling, that nobody who believes them 
 can think upon the grave but with the deepest dread, 
 dejection, and horror. It would be quite as wise to 
 bring up our children atheists, as to corrupt their 
 minds with the apprehension that the dissolution of 
 
152 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 the body may conduct them to everlasting evil. It 
 would be better, safer every way, for our children to 
 believe in annihilation, than in endless misery. 
 
 In the cholera of June, 1833, the disease lirst in- 
 vaded our own family circle. Two daughters, the 
 eldest four, and the youngest two years of age, died 
 about the same time. I was so fortunate as to pro- 
 cure a carriage, in which their bodies were conveyed 
 to a family vault, in the Girod cemetery, which had 
 been constructed and presented to me, some years 
 before, by the trustees of Christ Church, Canal 
 Street — a church characterized for large, generous, 
 and noble sympathies. I rode in the carriage alone 
 with the two coffins. There was not a soul present 
 but myself, to aid in performing the last sad offices. 
 Host desolate and heavy was my heart, at the 
 thought that they had left us to come back no 
 more, — 
 
 " No more would nm to lisp their sire's return, 
 Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share." 
 
 The chastening hand of the great Ordainer was so 
 heavy upon me, that, chilled and discouraged, I 
 should have sunk into the gulf of utter scepticism, 
 without the supporting hope of meeting the lost and 
 loved ones again, in a brighter and better world. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 153 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CHANGE IN MY THEOLOGICAL OPINIONS AND STYLE OF 
 PREACHING. — LIBERAL COURSE PURSUED BY THE CON- 
 GREGATION, WITH RESPECT TO THESE MODIFICATIONS. 
 
 GENEROUS MANNER IN WHICH I WAS TREATED BY 
 
 MY PRESBYTERIAN AND OTHER TRINITARIAN BRETH- 
 REN IN THE MINISTRY. 
 
 It is a truism among all tlio learned of the present 
 day, that religious faith is protluecd by infiuences 
 which we can neither create nor destroy. An hon- 
 est man is no more accountable for his belief than 
 he is for the movements of his heart and lungs, the 
 features of his face, color of his hair. In general, it 
 may be said that faith is the result of evidence. In 
 some cases, it is brought about through those exer- 
 cises of the mind which are by nature unavoidable. 
 Thus faith in a great First Caiise, in the existence 
 of the soul, in justice, and immortality, is insepara- 
 ble from human nature. It is not less essential to 
 man, than to possess the prerogatives of perception, 
 speech, memory, hope, fear, and desire. But many 
 forms of faith are created by one's voluntary efforts. 
 For example : faith in the Bible, in phrenology, 
 mesmerism, homoeopathy, democratic institutions, 
 the Copcruican system, geology, &c., is acquired 
 by observation, study, and research. 
 
 In examining and weighing the facts and evidence 
 appertaining to these subjects, one may bo fair or 
 unfair, just or imjust, impartial or prejudiced. If a 
 
154 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 man investigate Christianity itself, with no other 
 motive than an earnest and sincere desire to obtain 
 the trutli, and honestly comes to the conclusion that 
 it is false, he is not to blame for such a conclusion. 
 He cannot help it any more than he can avoid the 
 belief that two are less tlian eight. 
 
 When I entered the ministry, many of my opin- 
 ions, though sincerely held, rested only on the prin- 
 ciple of implied faith, or authority. In New Orleans, 
 I liad to encounter just, wise, and noble men, belong- 
 ing to each of the different denominations in Chris- 
 tendom. For some years after my settlement, I was 
 invited, almost every Sabbath, to preach on some 
 particular subject. This fact imposed upon me the 
 necessity of looking into tlie foundation of many 
 doctrines, whose truth I had always before taken for 
 granted. Hence I became a very hard student. 
 When not engaged in out-door vocations, I was 
 constantly occupied with my books and studies, in 
 order to prepare myself for a wide and almost 
 boundless range of pulpit discussion. 
 
 One day, it was incumbent to prove that Samson 
 actually lived, and performed the extraordinary feats 
 recorded in the book of Judges. The next Svmday, 
 I was called to explain the cherubim and the four 
 wheels, in the first chapter of Ezekiel, or the deluge, 
 or the destruction of the Canaanites, or Jonah and 
 the fish, or the case of Sliadrach, Meshecli, and 
 Abednego, wlio came out unhurt from the midst of 
 the burning, fiery furnace. Every biblical difficulty 
 was brought to me for solution, and it was my 
 especial province to elucidate all the dogmas which 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 155 
 
 have been professedly derived from the sacred vol- 
 ume since the days of Tcrtullian. I noticed, indeed, 
 no invitations but those which had the stamp of 
 respectable names, and such as I had reason to believe 
 were dictated by a worthy desire to obtain knowledge, 
 and promote the advancement of Christian truth. 
 These efforts to meet the wants of those who had a 
 right to call on me for spiritual information enlarged 
 my views, changed and rectified many of the opin- 
 ions which had been imbibed from venerable teach- 
 ers, and opened to me wonders and beauties which 
 I never should have seen, had my life been passed 
 in the regular, quiet, prescribed routine of ministe- 
 rial duties in a New England parish. 
 
 I will illustrate this remark by relating an inci- 
 dent. The only university in Louisiana, at the time 
 of my settlement there, was located in New Orleans. 
 From the beginning, all the presidents, professors, 
 and officers of the institution, had been of French 
 extraction, either Creoles or foreigners. One of the 
 most popular and efficient members of the board of 
 administrators was an English gentleman, of splendid 
 talents and acquirements. It was his wish to place 
 some northern man at the head of this college, " in 
 order," as he said, " to Americanize its usages, stud- 
 ies, and course of discipline." 
 
 The pastor of the Presbyterian church was recom- 
 mended to him as a person qualified to fill the office. 
 This was done without my knowledge or consent. 
 It happened in the spring of 1824, Judge W. — the 
 gentleman above mentioned — came to church one 
 
156 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Sunday morning to hear mc preach, not (as he after- 
 wards said) because he felt any interest about my re- 
 hgious tenets, but to form a general estimate of my 
 abilities as an orator and scholar. The subject of the 
 sermon on that occasion was the horrid dogma of 
 endless punishment. It was taken up at the partic- 
 ular request of a lady, whose husband undisguis- 
 edly and strongly repudiated the doctrine. She said 
 that he was a model of every yirtue that could 
 adorn home or society at large, but all this would 
 be of no avail, unless he became a disciple of Christ. 
 To become a Christian, and to embrace the Calvin- 
 istic creed, were things, in her judgment, perfectly 
 coincident. For myself, I then thouglit that the 
 doctrine of eternal suffering was true, and that a 
 belief of it exerted a most salutary influence on the 
 heart and life of its recipient. " Most happy," said 
 the good lady, " shall I be, if you succeed in rec- 
 onciling my husband to this solemn, sublime article 
 of the Christian faith." 
 
 At the outset, I told the hearers that this doctrine 
 was inexplicable to human reason ; that it was based 
 entirely on the authority of revelation. So I con- 
 fined myself simply to a rehearsal of those texts, 
 which, as I imagined, taught the eternity of future 
 woe. After the audience had dispersed, Judge W. 
 remained, and was introduced to me. We walked 
 home together. I found him learned, liberal, pol- 
 ished, and courtly in his manners. In the course 
 of our conversation he remarked that he had once 
 studied the sul>jcct on which I had been preaching. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 157 
 
 with special attention. It happened thus : After leav- 
 ing the university, he endeavored to prepare himself 
 for taking holy orders in the Episcopal church. But 
 it was out of his power to find the doctrines of tlie 
 Trinity, the vicarious atonement, endless punish- 
 ment, plenary inspiration, and some other articles 
 in the Bible. He therefore abandoned the idea of 
 obtaining ordination, and became a student in one 
 of the Inns of Court, London. Judge W. was a 
 superior linguist, and well versed in the original 
 Scriptures. 
 
 When parting with me that morning, he said, " Mr. 
 Clapp, I have a particular favor to ask. You told us 
 in the sermon just delivered that there are hundreds 
 of texts in the Bible which affirm, in the most un- 
 qualified terms, that all those who die in their sins 
 will remain impenitent and unholy through the ages 
 of eternity. I will thank you to make me out a list 
 of those texts in the original Hebrew and Greek. 
 That some of such an import occur in our English 
 version is undeniable ; but I think they are mis- 
 translations. I do not wish to put you to the trouble 
 of multiplying Scripture proofs touching tliis point. 
 Two, five, or ten will be amply sufficient." I replied, 
 " Judge, it will give me great pleastire to grant your 
 request. I can furnish you with scores of them be- 
 fore next Sunday." He smiled, saying, " I do not 
 deny it," and politely bade me good morning. I 
 was perfectly confident that the judge would be con- 
 vinced that ho had most egregiously misunderstood 
 and misinterpreted the word of God. I rejoiced in 
 the thought of his speedy discomfiture. 
 14 
 
158 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 " For fools rush in where angels fear to tread ; 
 Distrustful sense with modest caution speaks ; 
 It still looks home, and short excursions makes ; 
 But rattling nonsense in full volleys breaks, 
 And never shocked, and never turned aside. 
 Bursts out, resistless, with a thundering tide." 
 
 The very next day, Monday, before going out, I 
 made, as I thought, the best arrangements for col- 
 lecting the proof texts which had been solicited. A 
 table was set in one corner of my study, well fur- 
 nished with the appropriate books — lexicons, He- 
 brew and Greek, concordances, commentaries, Eng- 
 lish, Latin, and German, with standard works on the 
 Pentateuch, the history and antiquities of the Jew- 
 ish nation. I had no authorities in my library but 
 those which were of the highest repute among Trin- 
 itarians of every denomination. With the help of 
 Gaston's Collections and the references in the Larger 
 Catechism of the Presbyterian Church, the access 
 was easy to all the passages of Scripture which are 
 relied on to prove the doctrine of endless sin and 
 sorrow. 
 
 I began with the Old Testament in Hebrew, com- 
 paring it as I went along with the Septuagint and 
 English version. I hardly ever devoted less than an 
 hour each day to this branch of my studies, and 
 often I gave a whole morning to it. Having been 
 elected to the presidency of the New Orleans col- 
 lege, I was in the enjoyment of constant intercourse 
 with Judge W. Almost every week he inquired, 
 " Have you discovered yet the proof texts which you 
 promised to give me ? " I replied, " No, judge, I 
 am doing my best to find them, and will accommo- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 159 
 
 date you at as early a period as possible." During 
 tliat and the succeeding year I read critically every 
 chapter and verse of the Hebrew Scriptures, from 
 Genesis to Malachi. My investigations were as 
 thorough and com})letc as I could possibly make 
 them. Yet I was unable to find therein so mucli as 
 an allusion to any suffering at all after death. In 
 the dictionary of the Hebrew language I could not 
 discover a word signifying licll, or a place of ])unisli- 
 ment for the wicked in a future state. In the Old 
 Testament Scriptures there is not, as I believe, a 
 single text, in any form of phraseology, which holds 
 out to the finally impenitent threats of retribution 
 beyond the grave. To my utter astonishment, it 
 turned out that orthodox critics of the greatest 
 celebrity were perfectly familiar with these facts. I 
 was compelled to confess to my friend that I could 
 not adduce any Hebrew exegesis in support of the 
 sentiment that evil is eternal. 
 
 Still, I was sanguine in my expectations that the 
 New Testament would furnish me with the argu- 
 ments which I had sought for without success in the 
 writings of Moses and the prophets. I scrutinized, 
 time and again, whatever in the Gospels, the Acts, 
 and the Epistles, are supposed to have any bearings 
 upon the topic, for the space of eight years. The 
 result was, that I could not name a portion of New 
 Testament Scripture, from the first verse of JMat- 
 thew to the last of the Apocalypse, which, fairly in- 
 terpreted, affirms tliat a part of mankind will bo 
 eternally miserable. But the opposite doctrine, that 
 all men will be ultimately saved, is taught in scores 
 
160 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 of texts, which no art of disingenuous interpretation 
 can explain away. Here I should say that at the 
 time above mentioned I had never seen or read any 
 of the writings of the Unitarian or Universalist 
 divines, not even those of Dr. Channing, with the 
 exception, perhaps, of one or two occasional dis- 
 courses that had been sent to me through the post 
 office. During the whole ten years my studies were 
 confined to the original Hebrew and Greek Scrip- 
 tures, and the various subsidiary works which are 
 required for their elucidation. My simple, only 
 object was to ascertain what '^ saith the LorcV con- 
 cerning the final destination of the wicked. It is 
 an important, most instructive fact, that I was 
 brought into my present state of mind b}^ the instru- 
 mentality of the Bible only — a state of mind run- 
 ning counter to all the prejudices of early life, of 
 parental precept, of school, college, theological semi- 
 nary, and professional caste. 
 
 My circumstances at the time furnish conclusive 
 proof that I could not have been actuated by any 
 selfish, mercenary, or improper motives whatever. 
 I was well aware how much was hazarded by ven- 
 turing to interpret the Bible for myself; that tlie 
 public proclamation of the results which had been 
 forced upon me would call down tlie severest anath- 
 emas of the church ; that, naked and almost alone, 
 I should encounter the bristling spears of tliat large 
 army, which, though it repudiates the use of the 
 wheel, the rack, and gibbet, still employs, for the 
 purpose of preventing free inquiry, the more cruel 
 engines of scorn, contempt, obloquy, and misrepre- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 161 
 
 sentation. It is sad to think that if in this land of 
 boasted freedom a clergyman feels bound, in con- 
 science, to interpret the Scriptures differently from 
 the majority of the denomination to which he be- 
 longs, it is impossible to follow his private judgment 
 without imperilling his good name, his standing in 
 the ministry, and even his Christian character, Avith- 
 out being driven like chaff before the storm of pop- 
 ular prejudice and persecuting clamor. 
 
 From this account the reader will perceive my 
 meaning, in the remark that faith is, in a great 
 measure, produced by causes which are entirely 
 above and beyond human control. In March, 1824, 
 it became my duty in the pulpit to avow a faith 
 which ten years afterwards I was compelled by the 
 providence of Almighty God to repudiate. I say 
 Divine Providence constrained me to adopt this 
 course ; for my introduction to Judge W., his com- 
 ing to hear me preach, the particvdar theme dis- 
 cussed on that occasion, the request which led to a 
 new and thorough examination of the Scriptures, 
 and to a decided revolution in my theological views, 
 were the appointments of the Infinite Intelligence. 
 As a parent takes his feeble, tottering child by the 
 hand, when treading a rough, difficult path, so 
 Heaven was pleased to guide me through the mazes 
 of error and superstition, in which I had wandered 
 from childhood, into the broad, beautiful fields of 
 evangelical truth. 
 
 On the first Sabbath of July, 1834, I proclaimed 
 distinctly from the pulpit, for the first time, my firrq 
 conviction that the Bible does not teach the doctrine 
 14* 
 
162 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 of eternal punishment. It was the happiest day that 
 I had ever experienced. I felt that now I could vin- 
 dicate the ways of God to man. I felt that revealed 
 religion, like the stars of the firmament, reflected 
 the glories of our Creator. I kept repeating to my- 
 self for weeks the following lines : — 
 
 " And darkness and doubt arc flying away ; 
 
 No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn ; 
 So breaks on the traveller, faint and astray, 
 
 The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn. 
 See Truth, Love, and Mercy in triumph descending, 
 
 And nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom ; 
 On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending, 
 
 And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb." 
 
 Some of my friends wonder that I should be so 
 much attached to New Orleans. One reason is, that 
 it is endeared by those sacred associations which 
 assure me that my origin is divine, and my destina- 
 tion eternal life. It is natural that I should love a 
 place where I was permitted, for the first time, to 
 catch glimpses and revelations of the infinitely Beau- 
 tiful — where, amid perplexities, discouragement, 
 and despair, the Holy Spirit came to my relief, and 
 enabled me to gaze upon the outspreading glories of 
 an everlasting, universal Father, the unchanging, 
 almighty Friend of man, however low, fallen, dark, 
 or depraved ; the place where, in the twinkling of 
 an eye, I became a new man, was born again, and 
 with indescribable rapture looked out upon another 
 and more glorious universe than that which addresses 
 the senses. 
 
 Yes, it was in the Crescent City, (and I can never 
 forget it,) not in my native place, not in New Ha- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 163 
 
 ven, Boston, or Andover, but in New Orleans, where 
 I learned to take shelter from all the ills with which 
 earth can assail us, under the brooding wings of In- 
 effable Goodness. Yes, there, amid " the pestilence 
 that walketh in darkness and the destruction that 
 wasteth at noonday," it was my privilege to feel the 
 heart of Infinite Love beating close to my heart, and 
 to be assured that it will throb forever through all 
 the pulses of my mental and deathless being. Can I 
 ever forget the place or time when I actually felt the 
 arms of everlasting Power, Wisdom, and Benefi- 
 cence clasping me about as the fond mother hugs the 
 babe to her bosom to soothe its grief and hush its 
 sighs ? To me the mysterious problem of life was 
 solved on the banks of the Mississippi. There I was 
 first led to repose on the bosom of my God, and to 
 say, " Thou wilt guide me with thy counsel, and at 
 last receive me into glory. Whom have I in heaven 
 but thee, and whom on earth do I love in comparison 
 with thee ? Though my flesh and my heart fail, God 
 is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever. 
 My soul thirsts, longs, lives, prays, and toils to be- 
 come one with thee, for assimilation to thee, for 
 the constant unfolding and enlarging of those men- 
 tal powers which constitute thy glorious image." 
 
 As it is natural to be thrilled at sight of the wide- 
 ly extended prairie, the firmament of heaven, or the 
 boundless expanse of the ocean, so the heart remem- 
 bers the spot where it was first warmed and lifted 
 up by those unfiiiling hopes, wliich, crossing tlic gulf 
 of death, the line of time, and the boundaries of the 
 visible creation, connect our fates and fortunes with 
 
164 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 the wide, boundless scenes of an imperishable here- 
 after. I can recall a single day, in New Orleans, dur- 
 ing which I received an amount of happiness more 
 than sufficient to counterbalance all the suifcrings 
 of my life ; nay, more, which enabled me to regard 
 these very sufferings as instruments by which 
 Heaven is working out for me kinds and degrees 
 of good inconceivably great and glorious. But this 
 spiritual enjoyment to which I allude never entered 
 my sovil until I had been brought to see that God is 
 incapable of destroying his own children, or, which 
 is the same thing, allowing them to be destroyed. 
 One of an opposite faith may be a very sincere Chris- 
 tian, but he can no more taste the peculiar delight 
 which I am now speaking of, than a blind man can 
 perceive the beauties of the rainbow. 
 
 In conjunction with a more thorough knowledge 
 of the Scriptures, the peculiar events of my profes- 
 sional career had an extensive influence in modify- 
 ing and changing the theological opinions which had 
 been imbibed in New England. It was among the 
 sick, prostrate, and suffering that the true interpre- 
 tation of the Bible began to dawn upon my mind. 
 I felt that the teachings of nature, providence, and 
 grace must be harmonious. I had been reading 
 books from a child, but as yet had not studied pro- 
 foundly the mysteries of human life. Upon the 
 principles of faith acquired at Andover, I saw the 
 crowds around me hurried, by an unseen, resistless 
 power, through the ordinances and appointments ; 
 the sudden alternations of health, sickness, prosper- 
 ity, and adversity ; the scenes of endurance, priva- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 165 
 
 tion, and disappointment ; the painful siinderings 
 of the ties of friendship, affinity, and affection ; and 
 the other indescribable vicissitudes, fates, fortunes, 
 and trials, which are condensed into the short span 
 of this momentous existence between the cradle and 
 the tomb, only as preparatory to a final residence in 
 the dark regions of inconceivable, unbounded, and 
 hopeless ruin. The more I thought upon tlie sub- 
 ject, the more deeply was the idea impressed, that 
 such a destiny was utterly irreconcilable with infinite 
 love. I used often to say, " If God be our Father, 
 could he expose us to an evil that has no limits, and 
 which no finite power can avert ? " It was conceded 
 on all sides that we could not save ourselves. 
 
 Tlie very best are more or less sinful and unworthy 
 at the moment of death. No degree of virtue, then, 
 attainable on earth, can prepare us for immortal 
 blessedness. True, I had heard, all my life, that the 
 only basis of salvation spoken of in the gospel was 
 the grace of God tlu'ough Christ. But tlie doctrine 
 had been uniformly presented to my mind in such a 
 shape, and with such surroundings, that I had never 
 discerned its genuine character and bearings. Con- 
 stantly was I reminded that we could do nothing 
 towards saving ourselves, and yet, at the same time 
 that faith, repentance, and holiness before death, 
 were the indispensable prerequisites to eternal life. 
 Upon this ground, it a})pcared to me self-evident that 
 the vast majority of my fellow-beings must pcrisli 
 everlastingly. No hopes could be rationally enter- 
 tained for the final deliverance even of those who 
 die idiots, or those who sink into the grave during 
 the period of infancy. 
 
166 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 Whilst in this state of perplexity and distress, I 
 was called one afternoon to visit a remarkably inter- 
 esting young man, sick of the yellow fever. I had 
 often met him in company, and enjoyed his conver- 
 sation. Every body admired him for his extraordi- 
 nary talents, and the moral charms of his life and 
 character. One of the deacons of the church hap- 
 pened to be in my study when I was sent for, and 
 being an intimate acquaintance of the afflicted fam- 
 ily, he accompanied me to the sick room. The usual 
 services were performed. Within five minutes after- 
 wards he expired. The m.other uttered shrieks of 
 grief and despair, enough to melt a heart of ada- 
 mant. I tried to make some soothing remarks, but 
 she refused to be comforted. As she was a commu- 
 nicant of the church, and beyond all question a very 
 pious lady, I referred her to the inexhaustible riches 
 of a Saviour's mercy. 
 
 " But the mercy of God," she replied, " is limited. 
 Our beloved James is now, I fear, in a world where 
 the blessings of a Creator's love will never be known. 
 He was noble, kind-hearted, faithful, true, and good, 
 but he was not religious. A few days ago he told 
 me that he did not believe in the Trinity ; that in 
 his opinion the Son of God was inferior, subordinate 
 to, and dependent on the Father. Dying with such 
 sentiments, how can I entertain the faintest hope of 
 ever meeting liim in a better world ? " 
 
 I replied very promptly, and perhaps with too much 
 warmth, " Madam, in the unseen world, the catechism 
 of our church is not the criterion by which persons 
 will be acquitted or condemned. You say your son 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 167 
 
 was honest, and most exemplary in the discharge 
 of all his duties. What more could he have done ? 
 If he is lost, who then can be saved ? " 
 
 " Do you mean to intimate," she inquired, " that 
 one who expires disbelieving the supreme divinity 
 of Christ, will ever be admitted to the kingdom of 
 heaven ? " 
 
 " I hope so," was the answer ; " nor do I read any 
 thing in the New Testament which forbids such a 
 hope." But this thought was more shocking than 
 consolatory to her. In a few weeks she left our so- 
 ciety, and went to another church. A purer, more 
 .affectionate, or conscientious woman I have never 
 known ; but the sentiment " had grown with her 
 growth and strengthened with her strength," that the 
 gospel holds out no promise of forgiveness and 
 restoration to those who leave the world in error and 
 unbelief. The reflection arose in my mind, " Can that 
 be true religion, which represents death as a calami- 
 ty so great and terrible, that it excludes, of necessity, 
 a great part of mankind from entertaining even the 
 hope of a better and blessed life beyond the grave ? " 
 
 As we were returning home, my friend the elder 
 remarked that it seemed to him quite unaccountable 
 that infinite mercy should be limited by any thing 
 whatever — by time, nature, space, death, human 
 folly, or corruption. " Can Infinite Mercy be gratified 
 if a single child be left to wander forever in sin and 
 unhappiness ? Has this young man gone to a world 
 where he will have no further opportunities of ac- 
 quiring truth and becoming holy ? "Was such a doc- 
 trine really taught by Jesus Christ ? IIow dark and 
 
168 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 desolate, then, the prospects of that future state ! 
 But I suppose it must be so. The clergy ought to 
 understand this subject." These questions opened 
 for me the way to another field of inquiry, analo- 
 gous, indeed, to the one I had been exploring so 
 long, but of a somewhat different phase. 
 
 Reaching my study, I took down Cruden's Con- 
 cordance to the Holy Scriptures, and turned to the 
 word probation. To my great surprise, I found that 
 there was no such word in the Bible. Yet the fol- 
 lowing phrase is contained in almost every sermon : 
 " Pro/>fl^/o« will end with the present life." I had 
 heard Dr. Woods assert that if a man's accountable 
 existence on earth was not more than twelve months, 
 in this short space of time he must establish a good 
 character, or he would be eternally ruined. No op- 
 portunity will be afforded a person after death to 
 qualify himself for a happy immortality. It struck 
 me that nothing could be more absurd than the sen- 
 timent that Infinite Wisdom had endued us with the 
 capacity of an endless being, in which there could 
 be no progression after the dissolution of the body. 
 I had already prepared a complete list of the passages 
 adduced in support of the doctrine of everlasting 
 woe. They were constantly spread out on my table, 
 like a map or chart which a ship master consults in 
 navigating his vessel through difficult and dangerous 
 waters. I looked them over and over most care- 
 fully, through the winter of 1833 and 1834, to 
 see if they contained the affirmation, or any thing 
 which in the remotest degree savored of it, that the 
 state of man in the present life is probationary/ — a 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 169 
 
 season of moral trial, upon the proper improvement or 
 abuse of which depends our eternal weal. I found 
 not a Bible argument in support of this dogma. On 
 the contrary, I read therein that " God doth not pun- 
 ish forever, neither is his displeasure eternal. For 
 as high as heaven is above earth, so great is his 
 mercy. As far as the cast is from the west, so far 
 hath he removed our transgressions from us. He 
 will not deal with us according to our sins, nor re- 
 ward us according to our iniquities. Even as a 
 lather pitieth his children, so doth the Lord pity the 
 sons of men. For he knowetli our frame, he re- 
 membereth that we are dust. As for man, his days 
 are as grass : as a flower of the field, so he llourish- 
 eth. The wind passeth over it, and it is gone, and 
 the place thereof shall know it no more. But the 
 mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting, 
 and his goodness to children's children. God is rich 
 in mercy, plenteous in mercy, delights in mercy. 
 Mercy shall triumph over justice. He will not af- 
 flict forever, because he delighteth in mercy. He is 
 gracious and full of compassion, infinite, immutable, 
 and everlasting in his benevolence. Mortality shall 
 be swallowed up of life ; " and so on to an indefinite 
 extent. 
 
 How large, how cheering, how magnificent are 
 these views of man's ultimate destiny ! In the the- 
 ory of theologians, the grace of God is jejune, narrow, 
 circumscribed, inefficient, conditional, contingent, 
 liable to be frustrated by the obstinacy, blindness, 
 follies, whims, and caprice of feeble, fallible, erring, 
 and unhappy mortals. In the Bible, it is an impar- 
 ls 
 
170 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 tial, universal, almighty, ever-living, ever-present 
 tenderness ; a sea of compassion, in which all the 
 guilt, sin, and unworthiness of our race will be lost 
 and absorbed as a drop of rain is lost, when it falls 
 into the ocean, and is seen no more. 
 
 Having reached what seemed to me an important 
 crisis in my theological career, I could not reconcile 
 it with the principles of honor to conceal from the 
 church the new phases of my spiritual position. For 
 ten years I had been employed in revising my faith. 
 I had searched the Scriptures anew, unbiased by 
 fear or hope, in regard to the final results. All this 
 was done in the sacred seclusion of my heart and 
 study, alone with God, and the enrapturing beauties 
 of divine, eternal truth. There was no clerical nor 
 lay friend with whom I could converse with respect 
 to the new direction of my researches, and their 
 effect in enlarging my intellectual and moral horizon. 
 
 Besides, it appeared to me wrong to communicate 
 to others the change of sentiments towards which I 
 was drifting, until they had assumed the shape of 
 clear, full, and undoubting convictions. No doubt a 
 sagacious, observing, regular attendant on my minis- 
 try might have detected the fact that I was not 
 standing still, — that I was passing through a mental 
 revolution of some kind or other. An intelligent 
 Presbyterian — a noble, generous, constant hearer — 
 said to me one day, " There has been of late a great 
 alteration in your style of preaching ; I cannot di- 
 vine the cause." In reply, I said, " I am not con- 
 scious of any such change. Will you be so good as 
 to describe your impressions touching the matter ? " 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 171 
 
 He answered me thus : "In your addresses to sin- 
 ners, your tone is more mild, gentle, and persuasive 
 than formerly. It seems as if you do not look upon 
 their guilt as quite so awful and aggravated as it is 
 represented to be in the Bible. I want to have you 
 speak to these godless, desperate men in your old- 
 fashioned way. You should lighten, anathematize, 
 and pour out upon them the denunciations of an 
 offended Heaven. You should speak to them oftener 
 of the horrors of that future world, ivhere the fire is 
 not quenched, and the ivorm never dics.^^ 
 
 During this transition, I had no books to aid me, 
 written by liberal divines. And really I did not 
 require them. Among all the Unitarian and Univer- 
 salist writings which I have seen, no work, as to ex- 
 pansion or liberality of spirit and sentiment, is com- 
 parable with the New Testament, especially the Ser- 
 mon on the Mount, the Acts, and the Epistles. 
 Finding myself firmly fixed in the new views to 
 which I have alluded, I determined to state them 
 explicitly from the pulpit. Accordingly, on the first 
 Sabbath of July, 1831, I arose in my place after 
 prayer, and remarked, " that I could no longer be- 
 lieve in, avow, teach, or defend, the peculiar doctrines 
 of the Presbyterian church." These doctrines were 
 specified as follows : particular election, the vicari- 
 ous atonement, original sin, ph//sical inabiliiij, and 
 endless punishment. 
 
 It was said that I was unable to find these senti- 
 ments in the Bible ; that my reason ignored them ; 
 and tliat hereafter I should deem it my duty to wage 
 against them, both in and out of the pulpit, a war 
 
172 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 of utter extermination. I then selected the subject 
 of future punishment as the theme of my homily at 
 that particular time. My discourse was unwritten, 
 though I had before me copious notes of Scripture 
 references. In conclusion, I gave them my new 
 creed, in plain, simple, unambiguous terms. 
 
 I will here transcribe it. " There are not three 
 persons in the Godhead ; there is but one Being in 
 the universe, of infinite, uncreated power, wisdom, 
 and love — the Father of all mankind, the Father 
 of a boundless majesty. Jesus Christ was not merely 
 a teacher, exemplar, martyr, for the truth, but he 
 was literally and verily God manifest in the flesh — 
 officialhj^ not actually a God. He came to enlighten, 
 forgive, and sanctify all men ; to immortalize the 
 race ; to carry them buoyant over death to the fel- 
 lowship of saints and angels in glory. He knows all 
 hearts, and in the redemption of mankind, performs 
 actions which require divine attributes ; so that we 
 are certain that God was in Christ Jesus, (as there is 
 a finite spirit in my body, now speaking to you,) 
 ' reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing 
 to men their trespasses.' 
 
 " All mankind are brethren, equally dear in the 
 sight of God, and will eventually be saved by the 
 renewal of their hearts through faith, repentance, 
 holiness, and the forgiving grace of which Jesus 
 Christ is the channel and dispenser. In this life, 
 men are under a system of perfectly just and equita- 
 ble rewards and punisluuents. No sin can ever be 
 forgiven, until he who committed it has suffered a 
 deserved retribution, and heartily repented of the 
 same. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 178 
 
 " Pure religion and undefilcd consists in loving 
 God with all the heart, and our neighbor as ourselves. 
 It is happily expressed by the three terms pielij, 
 purity, and disinterestedness — proper feelings to- 
 wards God, holiness of life, love, and kindness, and 
 brotherly affection for all. 
 
 " The Holy Scriptures are the record of a divine 
 inspiration. By inspiration, I mean a supernatural 
 mfluence, which qualifies its recipient to set forth 
 moral and religious truths, free from material, fatal, 
 or essential errors. These articles constitute the 
 platform on which I now stand, and hope to main- 
 tain so long as I live. 
 
 ' He who these duties shall perform, 
 Faithful, and with an honest heart, 
 Shall safely ride through every storm, 
 And find, indeed, that better part.' ' 
 
 The principles embraced in the above creed are 
 my faith to-day, essentially, and have been for the 
 last twenty-two years. 
 
 When I came out of church, my friends gathered 
 round me, especially the trustees and elders of the 
 society. They were all astonished ; some were 
 pleased ; many were alarmed ; but none were of- 
 fended. One of the most influential members pres- 
 ent remarked, •' Mr. Clapp, I cannot subscribe to the 
 declaration which you have made this morning, but 
 I think you have taken the only right, honorable 
 course. You have shown your colors ; you have 
 frankly avowed your real sentiments ; we know who 
 you are, and on what to depend, and what you mean 
 15* 
 
174 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 to teach in future. But I am afraid that, if the 
 truth be on your side, you are at least fifty years in 
 advance of the age. Christians in general will 
 struggle desperately, and a long time, before they 
 will part with the doctrines which you have openly 
 rejected. Consequently, those of us who adhere to 
 you will be branded, all over the United States, as 
 errorists and dangerous heretics." Others addressed 
 me in terms equally kind, noble, and forbearing. 
 Nothing of a bigoted, scornful, censorious, or self- 
 righteous spirit was manifested. Indeed, New Or- 
 leans is the most tolerant place in Christendom. All 
 the misrepresentations abroad touching my character 
 and opinions have been set afloat by strangers and 
 non-residents. 
 
 Before this out-door assembly dispersed, it was 
 proposed to postpone all action on the subject till I 
 had delivered a course of sermons on this new gos- 
 pel, as it was called. To this I joyfully acceded. I 
 commenced the very next Sabbath, and ke^Jt on un- 
 interruptedly till Christmas. l^Iy congregation gave 
 me a fair, candid hearing, and said repeatedly that 
 they would support me if convinced that I was right, 
 however much it might subject them to public odi- 
 um and unpopularity. The members of my society 
 were singularly independent. With them, the au- 
 thority of great names did not amount to much — 
 " names which serve to guide the multitude as the 
 bellwether guides his willing, faithful sheep, all of 
 which will jump just as high as he does, even after ho 
 has knocked the fence flat on the ground." To pur- 
 sue calmly, honestly, the investigation of truth in its 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 175 
 
 most retired, latent recesses ; to confess it when it is 
 in disgrace ; to endure contempt and ridicule in its 
 behalf; to suffer for it with a martyr's unflinching 
 constancy, require a firmness, a greatness of soul, a 
 superiority to all selfish considerations, which is tlie 
 very essence of moral heroism. 
 
 My friends supported me with an undaunted, un- 
 shaken, unwearied resolution. Most of them are 
 now gone. Forever fresh and sacred will be tlieir 
 memories in my heart. They have their reward. 
 Only a small number at tliat time — I think not 
 more than half a dozen — left me ; but a great many 
 more joined the society on account of the stand which 
 I had taken. It is natural for free men to love a free 
 church, whose spirit is as wide and expansive as the 
 heavens over us. And the seceders, too, were good 
 men, true and conscientious. Tliose of them who 
 are living at this day are my warm, steady, faithful 
 friends. Indeed, I did not make an enemy by my 
 Declaration of Religious Independence. Those who 
 most dissented from me in opinion respected my 
 candor and fairness. Here, as in every other de- 
 partment, it holds true that " honesty is the best pol- 
 icy." Tliose clergymen make a fatal mistake who 
 suppose that an honest avowal of their opinions, 
 however latitudinarian they may be, will detract a 
 particle from their good standing in the public esti- 
 mation — will lessen in any considerable degree 
 their influence and usefulness, or diminish tlie num- 
 ber of their friends and patrons. 
 
 Many persons have thouglit that the doings of tlie 
 Mississippi presbytery towards me in the emergency 
 
176 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 just spoken of were cruel, bitter, and vindictive. 
 This opinion I could not indorse without many 
 qualifications and apologies for my opponents. 
 With one exception, I believe that all the members 
 of that body, in their measures with respect to my- 
 self, and the church over which I presided, were 
 actuated by pure and worthy motives. The relations 
 between us had been most cordial and friendly. 
 They felt no hostility to me personally, but were 
 alarmed at what appeared to them the shocking- 
 errors into which I had fallen, and was endeavoring, 
 by all means in my power, to propagate. Had I been 
 in one of their places, I should have acted just as 
 tlicy did. I concede to others the same rights which 
 I claim for mj^sclf. 
 
 A clergyman of great celebrity passed through 
 New Orleans in the autumn of 1834. He called to 
 see me, and spent several hours in my study. In 
 the course of our conversation, he said, " Depend 
 upon it, the doctrine of God's infinite, elernal wrath 
 is a main pillar in the gospel of our Lord. What is 
 there in the Bible, as you interpret it, which is fitted 
 to restrain, alarm, arouse, and convert the base, igno- 
 rant, hardened sinner ?" 
 
 I replied, " The doctrine of endless woe, as I be- 
 lieve, since its first promulgation, has never prevented 
 a single sin, a single species of crime, nor reformed 
 a single sinner. On the contrary, it has operated, 
 immeasurably, to multiply and increase the very 
 mischiefs it was intended to suppress. To pure, 
 conscientious persons it has been a rack of torture, 
 a source of i-mutterable anxiety, gloom, and des[)air. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 17T 
 
 Instead of reclaiming the wicked from the paths 
 of turpitude, it has made them more reclcless, 
 desperate, and depraved. The unfounded tenet 
 that the Creator is capable of frowning upon his 
 children forever, and following them with his curse 
 and displeasure through interminable ages, for the 
 sins committed in this frail, erring, imperfect state 
 of existence, has contributed, more than all the 
 other corruptions of Christianity combined, to swell 
 that tide of vice, crime, and immoralities, which 
 for ages has rolled its dark and troubled billows, 
 foul as the recesses of the Stygian pit, across this 
 footstool of Jehovah. 
 
 " To me it seems more corrupting than any other 
 idea that has ever afflicted our weak, sinful, unhappy, 
 and misguided race. It represents the Father of all 
 as inexorable, a boundless fountain of cruelty itself, 
 gives him a character darker than Erebus, and pre- 
 sents him in that light which must, of necessity, 
 prevent the believers thereof from cherishing one 
 sentiment of cordial affection for their Creator. 
 And whoever docs not love God will be sure to sin 
 against him. The very thought of almighty ven- 
 geance is enough to cover earth with sackcloth, and 
 spread over the face of heaven the gloom of absolute 
 despair. AYe cannot be more perfect tlian the God 
 whom we adore. Whatever we look upon as supe- 
 rior, we assimilate to. If we embrace a sentiment 
 which represents the Creator as cruel, partial, or 
 revengeful, tins belief, in spite of ourselves, will tend 
 to harden and destroy all the finer feelings and sen- 
 sibilities of our nature ; make us, though ever so 
 
178 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 sincere, sour, morose, exclusive, and bigoted ; and 
 impart to our cliaracters the most harsh, stern, and 
 repulsive features. As the stream cannot rise higher 
 than its fountain, so no one can surpass, in moral 
 excellence, the Divinity at whose shrine he makes the 
 continual offerings of supreme homage and adoration." 
 
 The clergyman continued, " By what arguments, 
 motives, or inducements, then, do you expect to re- 
 claim the erring, sinful, and incorrigible ? " 
 
 I answered, " They can be subdued by nothing but 
 the power of gentleness, the melting influence of 
 compassion, the omnipotence of love, the control of 
 the mild over the turbulent and boisterous, the com- 
 manding majesty of that exalted character which 
 mingles with disapprobation of the offence the sin- 
 cerest pity for the offender. A depraved heart will 
 yield to nothing but love." Let me illustrate my 
 idea by relating a couple of anecdotes. 
 
 Some time ago, I was called to visit a man con- 
 fined in the calaboose of this city for murder. He had 
 been tried, and was condemned to be lianged. Tlie 
 sheritr of this parish was a very humane person, and 
 always procured a priest or minister to repair to the 
 cells of those who were about to suffer the death 
 penalty. The individual I am speaking of had been 
 reared in the Protestant faith ; so the duty devolved 
 upon me to administer to him the consolations of 
 religion. I found him intelligent, shrewd, but most 
 fearfully hardened and reckless. I asked him if he 
 entertained any expectation of being pardoned by 
 tlie governor. I found that he had no hopes of 
 this kind. V.'hen 1 urged upon him the importance 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 179 
 
 of making some preparation for the great change 
 he was to pass through so soon, I was met with the 
 assertion that he wanted not the prayers, the in- 
 structions, or the counsels of any clergyman. " I 
 know as much about the future world," said he, " as 
 you do, and am qualified to do my own praying." 
 I had the New Testament in my hands, but he re- 
 fused to hear me read a word of it. He said that 
 he had solicited the sheriff, as an especial favor, not 
 to allow him to be annoyed by the intrusion of min- 
 isters of any denomination. He was a native of 
 Europe, an educated, well-informed man, and a con- 
 firmed, scoffing atheist. Seeing that my presence 
 was not agreeable to him, I rose to depart. 
 
 When I took him by the hand, he said, " I per- 
 ceive that you are a sociable man. I feel very lonely, 
 and should be most glad to see you often, if you will 
 not obtrude upon me the subject of religion, which 
 I utterly abhor." I promised to call every morning 
 at ten o'clock, till the day fixed for his execution. 
 Walking home, I said to myself, " There must be some 
 good thing which this poor man loves. I will try to 
 find out what it is, and make it the subject of some 
 moralizing which will be agreeable to him, and per- 
 haps may indirectly reach and soften his heart." 
 When I visited him the next morning, I told him 
 that I had not called as a clergyman, but as ^friend., 
 and should indeed be happy to say something that 
 he could listen to with gratification and profit. I 
 began the conversation by making some inquiries 
 about his family. His mind at once reverted to his 
 childhood, youth, and early home ; his parents, 
 
180 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 brothers, and sisters ; his first warm loves, and first 
 bright hopes, ere he had wandered from innocence 
 into the dark regions of sin and ruin. In a few 
 moments he sobbed and wept lilve a cliild. I wept 
 with him ; it was impossible to refrain from it. The 
 prisoner was a young man, not over twenty-five 
 years of age. He had ardently loved a yourg lady 
 of his native place, who was married to a rival, and 
 he ascribed his fall to this disappointment. 
 
 When I left him that morning, he seemed to be a 
 new being. His countenance had lost its haggard 
 and ferocious aspect, and become humanized, mild, 
 and gentle in expression. " Pray," said he, " bring 
 to-morrow some book to read, which may help to 
 divert me from the terrible thoughts that prey upon 
 my heart." On the third day, I took along with me 
 Campbell's Pleasures of Hope and Thomson's Sea- 
 sons. In the space of twenty-four hours, his mind 
 was so changed, that he said, " Sir, I am sorry for 
 the manner in which I treated you during our first 
 interview. I recant the declarations which I then 
 made, and hope you will forget them. Last night I 
 dreamed that I was in my native place and home. 
 The rapture I enjoyed aroused me from my sleep to 
 consciousness, and the bitter certainty that I shall 
 never see that home again. that I could cherish 
 that hope of meeting my beloved relatives and friends 
 once more ! 0, I shall lose my reason before the 
 hour of punishment arrives ! 0, pray for me ! O, 
 teach me ! Arc there no powers above to pity and 
 bless me ? " I knelt down and offered a prayer, to 
 which he heartily responded amen. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 181 
 
 From that day forward, he gave himself up impli- 
 citly to my guidance and direction, and became, I 
 believe, a sincere penitent. Yet not one word was 
 ever said to him about the anger of God, or future 
 punishment. The very morning that he was doomed 
 to suffer the sentence of the law, I passed a good 
 deal of time in his cell, besides witnessing the awful 
 catastrophe. Among other things, he said, " If I 
 had known from early life that God was my Father, 
 that he truly loved me, as a devoted mother does 
 tlie babe of her bosom, and desired only my present 
 and everlasting welfare, I should have been saved 
 from a sinful life, and from this shocking and igno- 
 minious fate." 
 
 I will mention another incident to illustrate the 
 point, that genuine repentance chiefly springs not 
 from fear, but from the thought of the horrible in- 
 gratitude towards Supreme Love which the com- 
 mission of sin evinces. Several years ago there Avas 
 a lady — a mother — residing in one of the Northern 
 States, distinguished for her wealth, social position, 
 and her religious character. She had a favorite son, 
 for whose advancement in life great efforts had been 
 made. But notwithstanding, he became a profligate 
 and vagabond. I had known him in our school-boy 
 days. The mother addressed to me a letter concern- 
 ing her lost child. From the latest information, she 
 believed that he was wandering in the Southern States, 
 and besought me, if I should meet the hapless fugi- 
 tive, to acquaint her with the facts, and extend to 
 him such ofiices of kindness as I might judge expe- 
 dient. 
 
 16 
 
182 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 A few days after the receipt of this letter, the 
 young prodigal made his appearance in New Orleans, 
 and found his way to my study. He was in a most 
 woful plight, both physically and morally. In man- 
 ners he was rude, audacious, and grossly profane. 
 He wanted money. " Money will do you no good," 
 said I, " unless you reform your life." " Reform ! " 
 replied he ; " 'tis impossible ; it is entirely too late. 
 I have no hopes ; I can never retrieve my steps. I 
 have nothing to live for. I am the execration of 
 all who know me. I have not a friend left in the 
 wide world." On his saying this, I went to my 
 desk, and took out the above-named letter from his 
 mother. Sliowing him the superscription, I asked 
 him if he knew the handwriting. He replied, with 
 a changed, thoughtful air, " It is my dear mother's." 
 I opened and read to him one paragraph only. In a 
 moment he seemed as if struck by some unseen, 
 resistless power. He sank down upon his chair, 
 burst into tears, sobbed aloud, and convulsively 
 exclaimed, " O God, forgive my base ingratitude to 
 that beloved mother ! " 
 
 Yes, the thought of that fond parent in a far dis- 
 tant and dishonored home, who cherished for him an 
 undying affection, who overlooked all his baseness, 
 who never failed to mingle his outcast name with her 
 morning and evening prayers, saying, (and this was 
 the sentence I read to him,) " my heavenly Father, 
 I beseech thee to preserve, forgive, and redeem my 
 poor lost child ; in thy infinite mercy be pleased to 
 restore him to my embrace, and to the joys of sin- 
 cere repentance ; " — the thought of such tenderness 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 183 
 
 broke his obdurate licart, and the waters of peni- 
 tence gushed forth. To make a long narrative brief, 
 from that hour he was a reformed man, and is now 
 an inhabitant of his native place, shedding around 
 him the blessed influences of a sober, useful, and ex- 
 emplary life. 
 
 Now, I ask, what, probably, would have been the 
 effect upon that young man's destiny if a letter from 
 his mother had been read to him couched in a style 
 directly the reverse — a letter which breathed only 
 of scorn, indignation, wrath, hatred, and menace ; 
 which uttered only the harsh tones of bitter upbraid- 
 ings, reproach, and denunciations ? Would it not 
 have operated to harden his heart still more ? to 
 have given increased vigor and intensity to his des- 
 perate passions, and to have plunged him hopelessly 
 into the abyss of ruin and degradation ? 
 
 If all sinners could be brought to see that the 
 Father in heaven actually cherishes for them a ten- 
 derness infinitely greater than that of this mother 
 for her son, that he truly pities them, and pleads 
 with them to return, by all the wonders of Calvary 
 and all the sufferings of Jesus, and that he wills 
 nothing but their highest good, — however contempt- 
 uous, proud, haughty, selfish, and unfeeling they 
 might be, they could never again lift the puny arm 
 of rebellion and disobedience against a love so amaz- 
 ing, so boundless, and ineffable. 
 
 Love only can overcome evil. A man is not truly 
 penitent in the highest degree till he can say, in the 
 words of Paul, " For I am persuaded that neither 
 death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, noi- 
 
184 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 powers, nor things present, nor things to come " 
 — no being, no event, no created thing, no enemy, 
 not even my fearful guilt and unworthiness — shall 
 be able finally and forever to separate me " from the 
 love of God which is in Christ Jesus my Lord." 
 Every thing else may fail ; friends may die ; the 
 earth, with all that it contains, be dissolved ; but the 
 throne of Divine Love will remain unmoved. The 
 waves of eternity may beat thereon ; they have no 
 power to weaken, overthrow, or sweep it away. The 
 above scene has been described in words as like 
 those which were actually uttered as my memory is 
 able to recall. I can vouch only for the substantial 
 truth of what is recorded in this chapter. 
 
EEY. THEODORE CLAPP. 185 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 EPIDEMICS OF 1837 AND 1853. — REMARKS ON THE POP- 
 ULAR VIEWS AS TO THE INSALUBRITY OF NEW OR- 
 LEANS. THE CAUSES OP YELLOW FEVER, AND ITS 
 
 REMEDIES. ITS BEARINGS ON THE MORALS OF THE 
 
 CRESCENT CITY. 
 
 It is not necessary for the purpose of the present 
 work that a detailed account, in chronological order, 
 of the epidemics which I have witnessed in New 
 Orleans should be spread before my readers. I have 
 dwelt with some particularity on the great cholera 
 of 1832. I have virtually passed through the same 
 scenes of toil, anxiety, and suffering, at least twenty 
 times. To describe my experiences minutely, during 
 each of these periods of trial and hardship, would 
 lead me into useless repetitions. I should only be 
 exhibiting to spectators a succession of pictures of 
 one uniform, unvaried, heart-sickening, and depress- 
 ing gloom. There is a wonderful sameness in the 
 sombre realities of the sick room, the death struggle, 
 the corpse, the shroud, the coffin, the funeral, and 
 the tomb. 
 
 Let me ask the reader to pause here a moment, 
 whilst I attempt to suggest a general but very inade- 
 quate idea of my labors and sufferings in each of 
 the campaigns above referred to. The term of a 
 sickly season in New Orleans has never been less 
 than six weeks. In a majority of cases it has ex- 
 16* 
 
186 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 
 
 tended from eight weeks to ten. In 1824 it began 
 early in June, and did not entirely disappear till the 
 November following. On an average, it is within 
 bounds to say that the duration of each epidemic 
 spoken of in these pages was at least eight weeks. 
 Multiply eight by twenty, and the product is one 
 hundred and sixty. Hence it follows that since my 
 settlement in Louisiana I have spent over three 
 entire years in battling, with all my might, against 
 those invisible enemies, the cholera and yellow fever. 
 In those three years I scarcely enjoyed a night of 
 undisturbed repose. When I did sleep, it was upon 
 my post, in the midst of the dead and wounded, with 
 my armor on, and ready at the first summons to 
 meet the deadly assault. 
 
 A gentleman of New Orleans, who was in the bat- 
 tle of the 8th January, 1815, on the plains of Chal- 
 mette, by which General Jackson became immortal- 
 ized, was one of my neighbors during the first cholera. 
 He stood his ground manfully one day. The next 
 morning I saw him making all possible despatch to 
 cross Lake Pontchartrain into Florida. As I was 
 passing by to attend a funeral, he spoke to me thus : 
 " I consider it no sign of cowardice, but common 
 prudence, to run away from the enemy that is now 
 desolating our city. On the battle ground, under 
 Old Hickory, we could see the enemy, and measure 
 him, and cope with and resist him, with visible, sure, 
 and tangible means. But here is a foe that we can- 
 not see, with his fatal scythe mowing down hundreds 
 in a day. When contending against the British, also, 
 we had this advantage ; every night there was a com- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 187 
 
 plete cessation of hostilities ; and by sound sleep we 
 were recuperated, and awoke each morning ready 
 for the struggles of another day." He then repeated 
 the following stanza from Campbell : — 
 
 " * Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lowered, 
 And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky, 
 And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered, 
 The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.' 
 
 " But this terrible conflict allows no truce. The 
 enemy is as active at night as in the daytime. I 
 have chartered a schooner, and shall be off with my 
 family in a few moments. I have always had the 
 reputation of being a man of nerve and courage. 
 But you see now how pale and trembling I am. I 
 can stand unblenching to receive the assault of 
 sword, bayonet, musket or cannon balls ; but this 
 dark, unseen, infernal enemy makes me as feeble 
 and timid as a child. I am afraid we shall be 
 nabbed, some of us, at least, before we get into the 
 pine woods. Farewell ; I never expect to sec you 
 again." 
 
 But on his return at Christmas, ho found me in 
 good health, and learned, with surprise, that I had 
 not experienced a day's illness all the preceding 
 summer. Though this man was not a member of 
 any church, and rather sceptical in his religious 
 tendencies, he became one of the firmest friends and 
 supporters I ever had in New Orleans. He used to 
 say, " Mr, Clapp, I neither know nor care any thing 
 about your theology, but I know that there is some- 
 thing in your bosom that makes you intrepid in times 
 of peril, disaster, darkness, and death. I know, sir, 
 
188 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 that no array of terrors can drive you from the post 
 of duty, and that, consequently, you are the very 
 minister for New Orleans." 
 
 In addition, let the reader admit to his imagina- 
 tion another important particular, essential to even 
 a distant and faint impression of the endurance 
 allotted me in those " times that tried men's souls." 
 The exercises of our minds in sleep and dreaming 
 are determined, in a great measure, by the nature 
 of our employments through the day. An agreeable 
 day's work lays up a stock of delightful thoughts 
 and sentiments for the silent, peaceful hours of the 
 succeeding night. What, then, think you, must 
 have been the images before my mind during that 
 portion of each night, when an epidemic was pre- 
 vailing, in which I attempted to sleep ? As to per- 
 fectly sound, dreamless sleep, it was almost a total 
 stranger to me. Under the most favorable circum- 
 stances, I could only doze ; and the various sights, 
 horrors, and shudderings of the previous day, or 
 week, or month were constantly passing in review 
 before me. In those disturbed hours I often talked 
 aloud, or prayed over and soothed and encouraged 
 the dying sufferer. At another time I would pro- 
 nounce a soliloquy in view of some broken-down, 
 scathed, and bereaved widow, with her fatherless 
 cliildrcn, and earnestly supplicate the blessing of 
 Heaven in their behalf. If I had seen during tlie 
 day an uncommonly severe case of agonizing and 
 dying, the terrific image haunted me without inter- 
 mission for a long time, awake or sleeping. Perhaps 
 there is no acute disease actually less painful than 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 189 
 
 yellow fever, although there is none more shocking 
 and repulsive to the beholder. Often I have met 
 and shook hands with some blooming, handsome 
 young man to-day, and in a few hours afterwards, I 
 have been called to see him in the black vomit, with 
 profuse hemorrhages from the mouth, nose, ears, 
 eyes, and even the toes ; the eyes prominent, glis- 
 tening, yellow, and staring ; the face discolored with 
 orange color and dusky red. 
 
 The physiognomy of the yellow fever corpse is 
 usually sad, sullen, and perturbed ; the countenance 
 dark, mottled, livid, swollen, and stained with blood 
 and black vomit ; the veins of the face and whole 
 body become distended, and look as if they were 
 going to burst ; and though the heart has ceased to 
 beat, the circulation of the blood sometimes con- 
 tinues for hours, quite as active as in life. Think, 
 reader, what it must be to have one's mind wholly 
 occupied with such sights and scenes for weeks to- 
 gether; nay, more — for months, for years, for a 
 whole lifetime even. Scarcely a night passes now, 
 in which my dreams are not haunted more or less 
 by the distorted faces, the shrieks, the convulsions, 
 the groans, the struggles, and the horrors which 
 I witnessed thirty-live years ago. They come up 
 before my mind's eye like positive, absolute reali- 
 ties. I awake, rejoicing indeed to find that it is a 
 dream ; but there is no more sleep for me that 
 niglit. No arithmetic could compute the diminution 
 of my happiness, for the last forty years, from this 
 single source. Setting aside another and better 
 world to come, I would not make such a sacrifice as 
 
190 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 one epidemic demands, for all the fame, pleasures, 
 and gold of earth. What, then, will you think of 
 twenty ? 
 
 A clergyman said to me not long since, " You have 
 indeed had a terrible time in New Orleans. You 
 will be rewarded for it some time or other, but not 
 here^ not here. A suitable remuneration awaits you 
 in the kingdom of God, beyond the grave." 
 
 I shocked my friend exceedingly by saying, " I 
 neither expect any such remuneration nor desire it. 
 I have had my reward already. Virtue is its own 
 reward. I am no more entitled to a seat in heaven 
 for all I have done, (supposing my motives to have 
 been holy,) than the veriest wretch that ever expi- 
 ated his crimes on the gallows." I repeat it, every 
 person who does his duty receives a perfect recom- 
 pense this side the grave. He can receive nothing 
 afterwards, except upon the platform of mercy. For 
 the good deeds done in the body, there is no heaven 
 but upon earth. When will Christian ministers 
 learn this fundamental truth of the gospel ? 
 
 " The soul's calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy, 
 Is virtue's prize : a better would 5'ou fix ? 
 Then give humility a coach and six. 
 Justice a conqueror's sword, or truth a gown. 
 Or public spirit its great cure — a crown." 
 
 In my efforts and struggles in New Orleans, I can- 
 not presume to say that duty was always uppermost 
 in my mind. Duty is to me an important, but a 
 cold word. Yet I can assert, unqualifiedly, that I 
 was not actuated by selfish, mercenary considera- 
 tions — by any regard to the advantages of earth 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 191 
 
 and time. I did but follow the impulses of my na- 
 ture. I love my fellow-beings, and when I see them 
 in want, pain, sickness, and destitution, I fly to their 
 relief because I cannot help it any more than water 
 can help running downwards, or fire can help burn- 
 ing. I deserve neither praise nor reward for acting 
 in this manner. It is but a necessary carrying out 
 of those spiritual principles which God has given me, 
 and the very exercise of which is heaven itself — is 
 the " divinity stirring within my soul." The per- 
 sons who speak of Christians as not being fully re- 
 Avardcd in this life, it seems to me, have yet to learn 
 the alphabet of revealed religion. 
 
 Again, during these seasons of trial, there is a 
 constant drain on one's sympathies, which does not 
 operate to lower or dry up their current, but to 
 make it constantly more deep and rapid. It is often 
 said that the power of sympathy is blunted and be- 
 numbed by familiarity, and being frequently exer- 
 cised in the same way. This opinion has been ex- 
 pressed by the great Dr. Palcy, of England, a divine 
 whose defective powers of sensibility and imagination 
 rendered him utterly incompetent to discuss many 
 of the most interesting topics belonging to our spir- 
 itual nature. My own experience testifies that the 
 oftener a professional man, either a physician or a 
 clergyman, witnesses the distress and pain of a fel- 
 low-being, the greater will be his sympathy for suf- 
 fering. As a general fact, the old physician has a 
 much larger stock of tenderness than that with 
 which he began his professional career. The medi- 
 cal gentlemen of New Orleans are to a remarkable 
 
192 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 degree humane, sympathetic, and charitable. Every 
 picture of woe and agony which experience has hung 
 up in the gallery of their memories has added to 
 the nobleness of their hearts. 
 
 But it is said that increase of sympathy is of 
 course increase of happiness. I doubt the truth of 
 this proposition. To sympathize, in cases of dis- 
 tress and misfortune, is to have a correspondent feel- 
 ing of pain experienced by another. I have often 
 seen a man come into a room where his intimate 
 friend was dying of the yellow fever, and in one 
 minute after reaching his bedside, turn pale, faint, 
 and become violently affected with nausea and vom- 
 iting. I have seen the mother repeatedly go into 
 convulsions at the sight of spasms in her beloved 
 child. I might mention instances of this kind to an 
 indefinite extent. Is such sympathy a source of 
 happiness ? To be sure, this part of our nature is 
 divine, and prompts us to deeds of magnanimity, of 
 heroic sacrifice. And a magnanimous, self-sacri- 
 ficing mind is happy, compared with one that is 
 coarse, selfish, and unfeeling. Yet sjaupathy with 
 sufferers is in every instance a painful emotion. A 
 physician once said to me, " I had some time to 
 sleep last night, but was kept awake by a painful 
 remembrance of the agonizing scenes I beheld yes- 
 terday afternoon." 
 
 I will illustrate the position of a minister in New 
 Orleans with regard to this matter, by relating a 
 single item of my own experience. I was called one 
 afternoon to attend the funeral of a gentleman who 
 died of the yellow fever. Ho was a total stranger to 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 193 
 
 me, I had never heard of him in his life. I was 
 introduced to the widow, who was sitting in the same 
 room with the corpse. She had the stare, the 
 ghastly face, and wild expression of a maniac. I 
 tried to speak some fitting words to her. I said, 
 " Madam, it is our privilege to be assured that what- 
 ever befalls us in this life, however cruel and myste- 
 rious it may appear, is the ordination of God, and is 
 consequently intended to subserve our happiness." 
 At this point, she interrupted me, saying, with loud, 
 excited tones of voice, " Do not speak to me of a 
 God or Providence. Behold that corpse," (pointing 
 to the remains of her deceased husband.) " If there 
 Avas a good God controlling human affairs, he would 
 not have robbed mo of my children first, and then 
 taken away my husband — the only stay, prop, and 
 support left me on earth." I could say nothing 
 more. After a very short service, the funeral pro- 
 cession moved off. A gentleman who lived next 
 door to the deceased rode with me in the same car- 
 riage to the cemetery. 
 
 From him I learned the little that was known of 
 the history of the deceased. He arrived in New 
 Orleans the last of May, three months before his 
 death, perfectly destitute ; he obtained a situation 
 that yielded him a bare competence, by obligating 
 himself to stay the whole year in the city. The epi- 
 demic broke out. He was a man of honor, and 
 would not leave his post. He had two interesting 
 children, a son and daughter, who died but a few 
 days before him. The widow was left without a dol- 
 lar, and had not a single female acquaintance to 
 17 
 
104 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 sympathize with her. On my return from the funer- 
 al, I called at the house to see her again, hoping hy 
 that time she would be more tranquil. I found her 
 lying on a mattress, in the same room where her 
 husband had expired. She herself had just been 
 seized with the yellow fever. There was one hired 
 servant in the house, and a colored nurse, who were 
 preparing to leave immediately, because they had 
 not been paid for their services. I assumed the debt 
 which they alleged was due, and persuaded them to 
 remain till the lady died or recovered. They said 
 there were no provisions in the house, no fuel, and 
 no comforts. I gave them enough to carry them 
 through the night, promising the amplest remunera- 
 tion for the future, if they would but faithfully take 
 care of the sick woman. On my way home, I called 
 a physician to her aid. 
 
 When I saw her early next morning, she was ex- 
 ceedingly ill. Finding that there was nobody to do 
 any thing for her but myself, I started off at once on 
 a begging tour, for my own means were exhausted. 
 After running two or three hours in a blazing sun, 
 I obtained the requisite assistance. At that time 
 there Avere no Howard societies, no benevolent or- 
 ganizations, in the city. There was no concerted 
 action with respect to objects of charity, but every 
 thing was left to the spontaneous generosity of indi- 
 viduals. Yet, when I reported that a family was in 
 want, it was easy to procure the needed aid, by giv- 
 ing my personal attention to the matter. But this 
 took up a vast deal of my time. To the credit of 
 New Orleans bo it said, that her inhabitants have 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 195 
 
 always been munificent in their donations for the 
 relief of tlie sick and indigent. 
 
 This unfortunate lady, after a most severe attack, 
 became convalescent. The hand of charity paid all 
 her expenses — house rent, servants' hire, undertak- 
 er's bills, &c., till the return of autumn. Then a 
 sufficient sum was raised to send her, with the re- 
 mains of her husband and children, to her distant 
 relatives. I mention this incident, not as any thing 
 extraordinary ; it was with me an every-day occur- 
 rence. But it may serve to show what kind of hap- 
 piness accrues from the exercise of Christian sympa- 
 thy. There is certainly something in it superior to 
 mere selfishness. I have kept myself in a state of 
 pauperism by benefactions of the kind above named. 
 ]My charities for thirty -five years, in New Orleans, were 
 not less, on an average, than one hundred dollars a 
 month, or forty-two thousand dollars in sum total. 
 And tills was expended upon persons abject, poor, 
 unknown, and unhonored, who could make no re- 
 turn except that of a thankful heart. 
 
 The moral history of the lady I have been speak- 
 ing of is so interesting, that I cannot pass it by 
 entirely unnoticed. When restored to health, she 
 became very much attached to me, and very com- 
 municative. Her intellect was of the highest order, 
 and her reading extensive. In person she was not 
 beautiful. But she, as well as her late husband, 
 was a confirmed sceptic. On a certain time, she 
 said, " 3Iy own liistory is sufficient proof that there 
 is no God. I look back upon a life of unintermitted 
 sorrow and disappointment. I married against my 
 
196 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 parents' consent, and they disowned me. My hus- 
 band became a bankrupt, and at last we immigrated 
 here to retrieve our shattered fortune. 
 
 " You know the sequel. I often say to myself, 
 ^ Why did I not die in infancy ? Why was it that I 
 have been subjected to the terrible, crushing burdens 
 of such an adverse lot ? Now I have neither hus- 
 band, nor children, nor family, nor means, and no 
 friend to help me, except yourself. Let the fortu- 
 nate praise their kind Creator ; but I am a wretch 
 doomed to eat the bread of a bitter and neglected 
 lot — to walk sadly and alone through this cold, un- 
 kind, uncongenial world, till permitted to enter upon 
 the repose of the tomb.' " By conversation and the 
 help of appropriate books, I endeavored to inspire 
 her with higher, more ennobling, and more cheering 
 sentiments ; with what success will appear from a 
 passage in a letter which she wrote to me some 
 years afterwards. In the succeeding winter she 
 returned to her native place, taking along with her 
 the remains of her husband and children. She was 
 kindly received by her relatives, contrary to her 
 anticipations, and became comparatively a happy and 
 a truly pious woman. 
 
 Slie wrote me many times after her departure, 
 but is now an inhabitant of the spirit world. In 
 one of her last letters she recorded the following 
 words : " Suffering has humbled my pride and soft- 
 ened my heart. I remember when you first told 
 me that human life was not intended to ])e a scene 
 of enjoyment, but a school of discipline, where, by 
 a series of trials and instructions, the hiolier and 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 107 
 
 nol)ler capacities, which the Creator has implanted 
 in the soul, might be developed and brought into 
 activity. I now look upon the losses which I sus- 
 tained in New Orleans as in reality the greatest 
 blessings. Had my husband and myself lived there 
 till we had become prosperous and wealthy, free 
 from trouble, I should never have known that there 
 was any higher good than the pleasures of time and 
 sense. 
 
 " But now I behold and commune with an infinite 
 Father. I no longer look upon my existence as a 
 mystery, a curse, or a misfortune ; but I feel that 
 each passing day spreads before me glorious oppor- 
 tunities to be improved, and glorious forms of hap- 
 piness to be enjoyed. My health is feeble, and. the 
 physicians have pronounced me to be in a hopeless 
 decline. Yet I am happy, and take much exercise 
 abroad. My family bestow upon me every possible 
 kindness and attention. Every pleasant evening I 
 walk to the cemetery, and linger, till the setting of 
 the sun, around the tombs of my husband and chil- 
 dren. I have no doubts, no fears, no despondency. 
 The graves of those I love are upon the summit of 
 a Ijcautiful hill. From this spot I look out upon 
 the calm splendors of the departing day ; the golden 
 and azure beauty of the skies, with the inspiring 
 faith that beyond them are those brighter regions, 
 where I shall soon meet the true, good, and beauti- 
 ful whom I have lost, to be separated from them no 
 more. Under God, you were instrumental in bring- 
 ing me out of darkness into the light of a pure and 
 ha])pifying faith." I could relate instances of a 
 17* 
 
198 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 similar description, sufficient to fill a volume. And 
 I have referred to the subject simply to enable the 
 reader to form a faint idea of the peculiar scenes 
 in which my professional life has been passed. 
 
 But imagine what was, usually, my condition 
 after the termination of an epidemic. Health reigns 
 again throughout the city ; absentees, with strangers, 
 are rushing back in crowds. The weather is as 
 charming as that of paradise. All is stir, bustle, 
 cheerfulness, gayety, and hope. Were one unac- 
 quainted with New Orleans, to drop in ujjon us at 
 this moment, he would conclude that we were among 
 the happiest of communities. No hearses arc seen 
 wending their way to the burying grounds. The 
 doctors are comparatively at leisure. The posts of 
 employment, made vacant by the recent mortality, 
 are soon filled by strangers, as young, ardent, hope- 
 ful, and sanguine as were their predecessors, and 
 destined, most of them, to share the same fate. But 
 there is one class of persons whose hands and atten- 
 tion are still occupied by the melancholy duties 
 devolved upon them by the epidemic which has just 
 closed. 
 
 The work of the clergyman, occasioned by this 
 visitation, is protracted through the succeeding win- 
 ter, the year, and perhaps many succeeding years. 
 Poor families, in greater or less numbers, have been 
 left destitute and dependent. They have none to 
 look to but the minister, who stood by, in the dark 
 hour, to pray, soothe, and support them, when their 
 beloved husbands and children were consigned to 
 the grave. They conclude, as they ought to do, that 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 199 
 
 " pure religion and undefiled before God and the 
 Father is, to visit the widow and the fatherless in 
 their affliction." Though entire strangers, simply 
 because I was with them in the season of sorrow and 
 bereavement, they would come to me for counsel 
 and aid, with as much confidence as if I had been a 
 brother by the ties of natural affinity. I was re- 
 garded as the common friend and benefactor of the 
 unhappy of every age, church, character, clime, 
 and complexion. I have labored as much for those 
 belonging to Orthodox and Catholic societies as for 
 poor heretics and outsiders. I have always felt that 
 any one who could say, " I am a man," had a sacred 
 and imperative claim to my sympathies and kind in- 
 terposition. Neither God nor mortality liath any 
 respect of persons. 
 
 From Monday morning to Saturday night this 
 class of sufferers used to besiege my doors, and draw 
 upon my pecuniary resources. Young children had 
 places provided for them in asylums, or private fam- 
 ilies. Older boys, of a suitable age, were appren- 
 ticed to some merchant, mechanic, or planter. But 
 there is a great demand for such situations after an 
 epidemic is over. There is often much difficulty in 
 obtaining them. I could not tell how many weeks 
 I have spent in hunting patrons for fatherless, for- 
 saken, indigent boys. Then the widows were to be 
 taken care of, and their wants, taste, capacity, and 
 even whims could not be disregarded. Some had 
 never been trained to any useful employment wiiat- 
 ever, and had not the requisite skill to use the 
 needle. What could be done for them ? AVhy, they 
 
200 AUTOBIUGIiAPHY OP 
 
 would tell me that they were able to manage a 
 boarding house in excellent style, and there was one 
 close by which they could procure, if they had only 
 two or three hundred dollars to start with. Mr. 
 Somebody would advance the funds, if I would be 
 so kind as to indorse a note for them. 
 
 The note is executed ; the establishment is opened 
 under apparently favorable auspices. But, in the 
 space of a few months, through mismanagement, it 
 fails, and to prevent being protested, I have the note 
 to pay. The lady, then, perhaps, finds a second hus- 
 band, and embarks once more upon the dangerous 
 sea of matrimony. In a short time, she comes to 
 me with some doleful story of maltreatment and 
 desertion, and wishes me to put her upon the way 
 of obtaining a divorce. Another, who had an excel- 
 lent situation in a good family as a seamstress, had 
 some misunderstanding with the lady of the house, 
 and she has resolved not to live there another day. 
 Slic modestly asks me to get another place for her, 
 and she expects mo to attend to it without delay. 
 
 A third Avalks into my study when I am absorbed 
 in meditating a discourse for the next day, and in- 
 forms me that the man to whom I lately married 
 her, and who seemed to be the very pink of moral- 
 ity, is not as good as he ought to be — is quite lati- 
 tudinarian, indolent, and intemperate in his habits. 
 The landlord threatens to turn her out of doors, 
 unless the rent is paid before sundown. To prevent 
 this catastrophe, she wants a loan of twenty dollars, 
 which she will certainly return some day next 
 week. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 201 
 
 She obtains her request, and has hardly left the 
 room before a fourth calls, to let me kuow that her 
 son, for whom I got a place iu a certaiu store, ware- 
 house, or counting room, is overworked, besides 
 being subjected to indignities which his father would 
 not allow him to submit to an hour, if he were alive. 
 His month is out, and she is determined that ho 
 shall never set his foot in that establishment again. 
 It would be better for him to be in his grave than 
 longer to endure such ill usage. 
 
 She is succeeded by a fifth visitor, who, addressing 
 me with much warmth and a look of upbraiding, 
 says, " You, sir, recommended a certain family as 
 the best and safest place for my daughter in the 
 whole city. But she is not only made a menial of, 
 instead of being treated as one of the daughters, biit 
 the gentleman who, you said, was so pious, meeting 
 her yesterday alone, offered her a gross insvilt ; and 
 I have taken her home that she might not be abso- 
 lutely ruined." 
 
 In this way I am, perhaps, interrupted all Saturday 
 morning, till the hour for dining has arrived. Next 
 day, in all probability, the weather will be delight- 
 ful, and I shall have to speak to a large audience, 
 and among them will be many strangers of dis- 
 tinction, who have lately arrived ; I am entirely 
 unprepared. These thoughts weigh heavily upon 
 my mind, and make me sick. I am so nervous that 
 I can neither eat nor sleep till the labors of the 
 Sabbath are over. 
 
 Heaven have mercy upon a clergyman incessantly 
 molested by trials and importunities like these. 
 
202 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 They make the salubrious months of the winter 
 ahnost as undesirable as the precedin^^ autumn, 
 Avhich was so saddened with pestilence and deatli. 
 When a man is buried, he can trouble you no more ; 
 but these survivors of the conflict may follow you to 
 your grave. 
 
 Yet these unfortunate persons are not to be 
 blamed for the course they take. They can do no 
 better, as a general fact. Upon every principle of 
 honor and religion, the community is bound to take 
 care of them. In New Orleans this obligation is 
 recognized. A few years ago some charitable ladies 
 belonging to the different religious denominations of 
 the city, Protestant and Catholic, started an institu- 
 tion called the Widows' Home. It was fostered by 
 benevolent individuals, and by the legislature of the 
 state. Dr. Mercer, formerly of Natchez, Mississippi, 
 but now of New Orleans, a man not only of wealth, 
 but munificence, — another Poydras, Touro, or Law- 
 rence, — has taken this establishment under his 
 especial patronage. He has already bestowed on it 
 fifty thousand dollars, and is prepared to increase his 
 benefactions, if they shall be needed. This gentle- 
 man has higher and nobler aims than to make his 
 fortune merely subservient to his physical enjoy- 
 ment — to the throwing around him, in the greatest 
 superfluity, the luxuries and refinements of genteel 
 life. He gives bountifully to churches, schools, mis- 
 sions, almshouses, and other institutions. Ho docs 
 all that becomes the opulent friend and helper of 
 humanity to elevate it in knowledge and virtue, and 
 animate it Avitli hopes of a more glorious destiny 
 hereafter. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 203 
 
 The two most fatal yellow fevers which I have 
 witnessed were those of 1837 and 1853. In the 
 former year there were ten thousand cases of fever 
 reported, and five thousand deaths. The epidemic 
 broke out about the middle of August, and lasted 
 eight weeks. This is the greatest mortality which 
 was ever known in the United States, if we except 
 that which occurred in the cholera of New Or- 
 leans, October, 1832. The year 1837 is memorable 
 for the introduction of what is called the quinine 
 practice. It is now, I am told by the physicians, 
 generally abandoned. By some persons abroad, our 
 doctors have been much blamed for thinking to over- 
 come the yellow fever by the above-named medicine. 
 For myself, I do not wonder that they made such an 
 attempt. It had been recommended by the most 
 celebrated practitioners in the West Indies, and in 
 other tropical regions. New Orleans has always 
 been blessed with the most learned, skilful, and com- 
 petent physicians ; but they are neither omniscient 
 nor omnipotent. The cause of yellow fever is to 
 this day a profound mystery. It has been said that 
 this is a true but humiliating confession by Dr. Dow- 
 ler, of New Orleans. I quote from an article of his, 
 published in the New Orleans Directory in 1854: — 
 
 " Heat, rain, moisture, swamps, vegeto-animal de- 
 composition, contagion, and nnmerons other alleged 
 causes are altogether inadequate and unsatisfactory. 
 This might be shown by travelling over hundreds of 
 inconclusive and contradictory volumes, filled with 
 special pleadings, diluted logic, theoretical biases, 
 and irrelevant facts. 
 
20-i AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 " It is most certainly tlie duty of every writer on 
 yellow fever to explain the cause of it, if lie can ; 
 but it is equally his duty not to sin against the deca- 
 logue of logic, any more than against the decalogue 
 of Moses. Fortunately, the conditions, if not the 
 causes, of yellow fever are to a considerable extent 
 known. For example, it is known to be connected — 
 no matter how — with the warm season of the year, 
 with unacclimated constitutions, with aggregations of 
 people in towns and villages, &c. It rarely attacks 
 rural populations unless they crowd together so as to 
 become virtually towns. 
 
 " A correct appreciation of these conditions is 
 next in importance to the discovery of the cause of 
 yellow fever. Probably the former may j^rove, after 
 all, the more important ; for the discovery of the 
 cause by no means warrants the conclusion that it is 
 necessarily a removable or remedial one. The seeds 
 of plants taken from Egyptian mummies contain the 
 vital principle after the lapse of thousands of years, 
 and will grow when the proper conditions shall be 
 present, as heat, moisture, and earth, while the vital 
 cause is in the plant. It is, therefore, a fundamental 
 error to require a writer to explain the ens epi- 
 demicuni, or to receive the alleged doctrine of conta- 
 gion as the only alternative, when he cannot show 
 what the cause is. 
 
 "It is better to acknowledge ignorance than to 
 advocate an error. It is better to keep a question of 
 this sort open, than dogmatically to close it against 
 investigation. In the former case, the truth may be 
 discovered ; in the last, never. To knoiv ignorance is 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 205 
 
 preferable to ig-norance of ignorance. To know that 
 as yet we do not know, is the first step to be taken. 
 Despair is not philosophical. The possible who can 
 limit ? If the cause of yellow fever has not been 
 discovered, it may yet be ; and when discovered, it 
 may, or may not, be controllable. If it should never 
 be discovered, any more than the cause that pro- 
 duces on the same soil a poisonous and a nutritive 
 plant, it is probable that at least its essential laws 
 and conditions may be ascertained, so as to afford 
 advantages and protection equal to those derivable 
 from the knowledge of its time cause. All the les- 
 sons of philosophy teach that yellow fever has a 
 cause, without which it cannot appear, and with 
 which it cannot fail to appear. Its antecedents and 
 sequences must prove, when known, as invariably 
 connected and simple as any part of physics. 
 
 " The diversity of opinion on this subject among 
 the learned is wonderful. Dr. Rush and others af- 
 firm that the plague left London as soon as coal was 
 introduced into the city as fuel. Now, the part of 
 New Orleans most severely afflicted with yellow fe- 
 ver in 1853 was in the neighborhood of the foun- 
 deries, where vast quantities of coal were used. 
 Sometimes the firing of artillery in the streets and 
 public squares has been followed by the retreat of 
 the epidemic ; at other times it has added an impetus 
 to its march, as the eating of a salt herring was once 
 followed by the recovery of a Frenchman and the 
 death of an Englishman. The same is true of tar- 
 burning. ]\nik, coffee, London porter, and various 
 other articles have sometimes cured the black vomit, 
 18 
 
206 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 at others they only helped on the disease. A process 
 "which has cured the yellow fever one year, the very 
 next will destroy all the patients." 
 
 Consequently, when an epidemic sets in, the phy- 
 sicians are in a quandary. They begin, perhaps, 
 with medicine that was most efficacious in a former 
 year ; but it kills rather than cures. In this case 
 what can they do ? They must practise empirically. 
 It is inevitable. They must travel blindfold, in a 
 great measure. If they knew the cause of the com- 
 plaint, they could apply medicines with skill and 
 success, and avoid painful, and often most fatal mis- 
 takes. I have always sympathized with the physi- 
 cians in New Orleans. Their duties in a sickly sea- 
 son are most arduous and responsible. Often have 
 I seen them in a few weeks reduced to their beds by 
 anxiety, toil, watchhigs, and disappointment ; and 
 multitudes, instead of thanking them, have cursed 
 them, because they did not at once expel the epi- 
 demic from the city, which they could no more con- 
 trol than they could raise the dead. 
 
 Lately, our physicians have repudiated the use of 
 drastic medicines in the treatment of this disease. 
 They rely upon gentle remedies, the keeping up a 
 constant perspiration by rubbing, and various exter- 
 nal applications. The system of therapeutics at 
 present adopted in New Orleans, with respect to 
 diseases in general, approximates, in many particu- 
 lars, to that prescribed by the homceopathic faculty. 
 It is certainly much more successful than the prac- 
 tice which was prevalent some years ago. In one of 
 the earlier epidemics, I saw a physician, in his first 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 207 
 
 visit to a patient, who had been ill but four hours, 
 take from him, by the lancet, fifty ounces of blood at 
 one time. The sick man was bled till he fainted. 
 He then ordered him to swallow, at once, three hun- 
 dred grains of calomel and gamboge. So the physi- 
 cian himself testified. This sort of practice now 
 would be regarded as certainly inevitably destruc- 
 tive of life. 
 
 In May, 1853, I went to Boston, Xahant, and Ni- 
 agara, for my health. When at the Falls, I heard, 
 by the telegraph and private letters, that the yellow 
 fever had again become epidemic in New Orleans. 
 This was in the warmest weather of July. Leaving 
 my family, I immediately hurried home by the most 
 expeditious route. I went in a steamer to Charles- 
 ton, thence by railroad to Montgomery, on the Ala- 
 bama River. From that place I took the mail route 
 to Mobile, and reached the levee in about one week 
 from New York. I was put out at the depot just 
 before daylight. 
 
 This is on the banks of the river, about a mile 
 from the centre of the city. Whilst waiting to get 
 my baggage, I could smell the offensive effluvium that 
 fdled the atmosphere for miles around, resembling 
 that which arises from putrefying animal or vegetable 
 matter. As I rode upwards towards the heart of the 
 city, I became quite ill, and on reaching my resi- 
 dence was seized with fainting and vomiting. I took 
 a bath, and was partially relieved. I then ordered 
 some tea and toast, intending to spend the next 
 twenty-four hours in my room, for I was completely 
 overcome by fatigue and want of sleep. But the 
 
208 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 hackney coachman knew me, and, contrary to his 
 promise, spread the news of my arrival. 
 
 Before I had time to change my apparel, I was 
 called on for professional services. In about one 
 hour after entering my domicile, I left it to breathe 
 the pestilence of a sick room. Here I found a phy- 
 sician, who was one of my parishioners and intimate 
 friends. He exclaimed, " I am very sorry to see you 
 here. I did not suppose that you could commit 
 such an imprudent act as to come directly from the 
 salubrious regions of New England into this charnel 
 house, this receptacle of plague and death. It will 
 cost you your life." From that day forward till 
 November, I was enabled to attend to my duties 
 every day. I was not seriously ill for an hour. 
 
 At this time, the city was full of moisture. It had 
 been raining more or less every day for two months. 
 And this falling weather lasted till the 20th of 
 September. Some medical gentlemen thought that 
 the severity of the epidemic was owing to the exces- 
 sive rains of that summer. But the constant showers 
 washed the gutters every day, and kept them clean. 
 Besides, immense quantities of lime were strewed 
 along the streets, yards, and squares, the exhalations 
 from which were supposed to be antiseptic. It is a 
 curious fact, that in 1837 the season was remarkably 
 cool, clear, and dry. The weather resembled that 
 of tlie so-called Indian summer. Yet the pestilence 
 was never more destructive. And this very year, 
 the fever was as virulent in the balmy, delightful 
 weather of October, as it had been in the preceding 
 rainy months. I judge, therefore, that the yellow 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP, 209 
 
 fever is not affected, one way or the other, by mete- 
 orological changes. 
 
 On the day of my arrival, it rained incessantly 
 from morning till night. In the space of twelve 
 hours, the interments were over three hundred. 
 The same day, I visited two unacclimated families 
 belonging to my own church, who were all down 
 with the plague. In these families were nine per- 
 sons ; but two of them survived. I knew a large 
 boarding house for draymen, mechanics, and humljlc 
 operatives, from which forty-five corpses were borne 
 away in thirteen days. A poor lady of my acquaint- 
 ance kept boarders for a livelihood. Her family 
 consisted of eight unacclimated persons. Every one 
 of them died in the space of three weeks. 
 
 Six unacclimated gentlemen, intelligent, refined, 
 and strictly temperate, used to meet once a week, to 
 enjoy music, cheering conversation, and innocent 
 amusements. They had been told that it was a great 
 safeguard, in a sickly summer, to keep up good spir- 
 its, and banish from their minds dark and melan- 
 choly thoughts. They passed a certain evening to- 
 gether in health and happiness. In precisely one 
 week from that entertainment, five of them were 
 gathered to the tomb. One of the most appalling 
 features of the yellow fever is the rapidity with 
 which it accomplishes its mission. 
 
 There is some difficulty in arriving at the true 
 statistics touching the epidemic of 1853. It was 
 supposed by the best informed physicians that there 
 were fifty or sixty thousand unacclimated persons in 
 New Orleans when the epidemic began, aboiit the 
 18* 
 
210 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 
 
 1st of July. From that time to the 1st of Novem- 
 ber, the whole number of deaths reported were ten 
 thousand and three hundred. Of these, eight thou- 
 sand died of the yellow fever. The physicians esti- 
 mated that thirty-two thousand of those attacked 
 this year were cured. Of course, if this calculation 
 be true, the whole number of cases in 1853 was forty 
 thousand. 
 
 The horrors and desolations of this epidemic can- 
 not be painted ; neither can they be realized, except 
 by those who have lived in New Orleans, and have 
 witnessed and participated in similar scenes. Words 
 can convey no adequate idea of them. In some 
 cases, all the clerks and agents belonging to mercan- 
 tile establishments were swept away, and the stores 
 closed by the civil authorities. Several entire fam- 
 ilies were carried off — parents, children, servants, 
 all. Others lost a quarter, or a third, or three 
 fourths of their members, and their business, hopes, 
 and happiness were blasted for life. The ravages of 
 the destroyer were marked by more woful and af- 
 fecting varieties of calamity than were ever deline- 
 ated on the pages of romance. Fifteen clergymen 
 died that season — two Protestant ministers and 
 thirteen Roman Catholic priests. 
 
 They were strangers to the climate, but could not 
 be frightened from their posts of duty. The word 
 fear was not in tlieir vocabulary. Four Sisters of 
 Charity were laid in their graves, and several others 
 were brought to the point of death. It is painful to 
 dwell on these melancholy details, but it may suggest 
 profitable trains of thought. Set before your imagi- 
 
REV. THEODOEE CLAPP. 211 
 
 nations a picture of forty thousand persons engaged 
 in a sanguinary battle, in which ten thousand men 
 are killed outright. One thousand persons will fill 
 a large church. Suppose ten congregations, of this 
 number each, were to be assembled for worship in 
 Boston, on the 1st day of July, 1858, and that on 
 the first day of the following November, in the short 
 space of four months, all should bo numbered with 
 the dead. This mortality would be no more awful 
 than that which I have witnessed in the Crescent 
 City. 
 
 In a letter which was written by myself to the 
 Rev. Thomas Whittemore, September, 1853, are the 
 following lines : " Let us look for a moment at a 
 rainbow of beauty spanning this dark cloud of pes- 
 tilence. During the past season of gloom and afilic- 
 tion, the inhabitants of New Orleans have displayed 
 a degree of heroism, a power of philanthropy, to me 
 absolutely unparalleled. Families of wealth and 
 case, instead of going over to the delightful watering 
 places in this vicinity, on the sea shore, to enjoy 
 themselves, have passed the whole summer in the 
 city, and devoted their days and nights to the taking 
 care of poor, stricken-down, forlorn strangers, who 
 had no claims to their charities but the ties of our 
 common humanity. I know one gentleman and 
 lady in independent circumstances, who have had 
 under their charge, in the course of the summer, as 
 many as thirty poor families, and all strangers to 
 them. These they have taken as good care of as if 
 they had been of their own kith and kin. Such 
 things have been common all over the city, and in all 
 
212 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 classes of our heterogeneous population. The mem- 
 bers of the Howard Association have achieved mir- 
 acles of benevolence. I hesitate not to say, that this 
 city, in the late fearful visitation, has given to the 
 world an example of Christian philanthropy as lofty 
 as can be found in the records of all time. I have 
 often thought, that if our northern brethren could 
 have been in New Orleans the past summer, they 
 would no longer entertain a doubt but that a slave- 
 holder may be a Christian — the highest type of 
 man, the noblest ivork of God. Every means which 
 ingenuity could devise or benevolence suggest has 
 been employed to avert and mitigate the evils of the 
 plague. More than two hundred children have been 
 made orphans, and the ladies within and around the 
 city are making clothes for them, and doing every 
 thing possible to promote their welfare. 
 
 " Another thing which has deeply impressed my 
 heart is, the northern sympathy which has been dis- 
 played towards New Orleans, notwithstanding the 
 people of the free states are so widely separated from 
 us, in opinion and feeling, with respect to the subject 
 of slavery. Laying prejudice and antipathies aside, 
 they have shown that divine benevolence which dis- 
 dains all the limits dictated by selfishness, and looks 
 upon every human being within its reach as having 
 a sacred and imperative claim to its kind offices. 
 What more could have been done for us than has 
 been done ? I should like to shake hands with Mr. 
 Gcrritt Smith, and thank him with all my heart for 
 his munificent subscription for the relief of the suf- 
 ferers in our late epidemic. And Boston, the me- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 213 
 
 tropolis of my native state, lias given for ns, I be- 
 lieve, a larger amount, in proportion to her popula- 
 tion, than any other city. Massachusetts should be 
 the first in all noljle and illustrious charities, as she 
 is confessedly preeminent in the glories of science, 
 social refinement, and pure religion." Such were 
 my impressions of these scenes, which were com- 
 mitted to writing at the time they occurred, in the 
 autumn of 1853. 
 
 Tlmcydides has bequeathed to us a tragic and 
 striking description of a plague which, in his day, 
 took place at Athens. He tells us that demoraliza- 
 tion raged there equally with the epidemic — that all 
 the ties of friendship, of affinity, of moral responsi- 
 bleness, of honor and religion were dissolved. All 
 the refinements of civilized life, according to his 
 statement, were swept away by a deluge of licen- 
 tiousness — wild, frantic excesses, neglect of the sick 
 and dying, the plunder of houses, murder, and other 
 atrocities too awful to mention. The narratives of 
 the plagues which have prevailed in Europe in mod- 
 ern periods contain similar statements. Are they 
 credible ? If so, then it is certain that mankind are 
 infinitely better now than they were in the olden 
 times. 
 
 In the epidemics which I have witnessed, instead 
 of unusual depravity, an extraordinary degree of be- 
 nevolence has prevailed, shedding a heavenly light 
 upon the dark scenes of the sick room, the deathbed, 
 the coffin, the funeral, <tc. Yet, with respect to this 
 subject, New Orleans has been most shamefully mis- 
 represented. In the summer of 1821, an English 
 
214 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 officer came into our city on liis way from Jamaica, 
 West Indies. He was an intrepid, well-informed, 
 interesting man, and was induced to visit New Or- 
 leans simply to gratify his curiosity. It happened 
 that he came to ovir church one Sunday morning ; 
 after the services, I had the honor of making his ac- 
 quaintance. He said he was glad to be with us in 
 days of mourning, disaster, and death, for he wished 
 to become acquainted with all the phases of suffer- 
 ing humanity, and had much rather see New Or- 
 leans in the sickly season than in the healthy period 
 of Avinter. He accompanied one of our physicians 
 to the Charity Hospital, and walked with him 
 through all the yellow fever wards. He used no pre- 
 cautions, and seemed to be entirely superior to fear. 
 We admired his courage, equanimity, and gentleman- 
 ly bearing. After a fortnight's sojourn, he left us in 
 good health. 
 
 On his return to England, his travels in the United 
 States that summer were published. A copy of the 
 work fell into my hands. In turning to that portion 
 of the book descriptive of his experiences among us 
 during the time just mentioned, I was astonished at 
 the assertion, that New Orleans, in the midst of a 
 dreadful epidemic, was full of merriment, intemper- 
 ance, and gayety. He says the sick were neglected 
 and abandoned ; that crowds rushed every night to 
 balls, operas, and theatrical amusements ; and that 
 intoxicated persons were often seen uttering profane 
 and ribald language when employed in burying the 
 dead — in performing the last sad offices which hu- 
 manity calls for. Words more false, defamatory, and 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 215 
 
 unjust could not be written. Similar fictions are 
 propagated in our northern cities concerning New 
 Orleans every time an epidemic prevails there. Yet 
 the fact is, that in the darkest days its inhabitants 
 have deported themselves nobly, and recognized the 
 sacred claims of religion and humanity. Many of 
 these libels arc circulated in letters professedly writ- 
 ten by persons who were eye and ear witnesses of the 
 scenes which they described. 
 
 It seems to give some men peculiar delight to de- 
 preciate and vilify human nature. It is easy to be 
 severe, harsh, satirical, and disparaging in comment- 
 ing on the behavior of our fellow-beings. But no 
 one was ever too charitable in his views of other 
 men — their motives, principles, character, or con- 
 duct. It has been my lot, for the last forty years, to 
 reside in what are reputed to be the worst places in 
 the civilized world ; yet to this day I have not met 
 a person so hardened, so brutal, as to be capable of 
 treating with indifference, neglect, or levity, the suf- 
 fering forms of humanity within his reach. In New 
 Orleans, I have been often struck with admiration 
 to see persons in the lowest walks of life making 
 every possible sacrifice of time, ease, and money in 
 attending on the sick, soothing the dying, and pro- 
 viding tombs and a decent burial for those who were 
 absolute strangers, and utterly destitute. I go so 
 far as to say, that I have never, in a single instance, 
 seen poor and wicked people (as they are called) 
 declining to perform all the offices of charity in their 
 power to the ill and distressed around them. This 
 most terrible form of sin has sometimes, perhaps, 
 
216 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 been manifested in the higher circles of humanity. 
 I have never beheld it even there. 
 
 When I hear Inunan nature run down, — prayed, 
 preached, or talked against, — I feel that it amounts 
 to a virtual impeachment of God's own perfections. 
 It is but a depreciation, a slandering of his own 
 glorious work. I have witnessed noble and disinter- 
 ested actions among all classes of mankind, not ex- 
 cepting the rudest and most~~ vulgar. I knew a 
 woman, herself impoverished, and so ignorant that 
 she did not understand the meaning of tlie phrase 
 " self-sacrificing benevolence,^^ take a sick child from 
 an adjoining house, whose father and motlier had 
 just died of the yellow fever, and watch over it till 
 worn out with fatigue and anxiety, without the 
 slightest hope of any reward, and when even her 
 own children were dependent upon her daily labor 
 for subsistence. I saw much of this woman, on 
 wliom the proud and fashionable, perhaps, w^ould 
 look only with contempt. She was faithful, sincere, 
 truth-loving — the just, conscientious, generous 
 friend of the poor, cast down, forgotten, and suffer- 
 ing, who could make no return for her kind doings. 
 Yet she had never been a member of any cliurch, 
 and could not read her Bible. 
 
 I have seen poor young men, standing on the vesti- 
 bule of mercantile life, close their stores, suspend all 
 business, give their days and their nights, their toil 
 and their money, to the relief of sick, indigent, and 
 helpless strangers, from wdiom they could neither 
 wish nor hope for the smallest remuneration. I 
 have known them to carry on this work of charity. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP, 217 
 
 till their health was undermined, and their lives 
 were offered up as a sacrifice on the altar of philan- 
 thropy. And these persons were not members of 
 any Christian church. What is religion, or philos- 
 ophy, falsely so called, arrayed against such facts as 
 these ? 
 
 I was once at Niagara when a man was carried 
 over the falls. For fifteen long hours he clung to a 
 log jutting out from between the rocks in the middle 
 of the cataract. Thousands were spectators of the 
 awful scene. What was their conduct ? The suf- 
 ferer was a mere youth, al)out twenty years of age, 
 one of the laborers engaged in excavating a canal, 
 — a foreigner, without a relative near, — in the 
 humblest possible condition and circumstances ; yet 
 the multitude looking on wrung their hands, sighed, 
 struggled, and wept, as if he were united to them by 
 the tenderest ties of affinity and love. What efforts 
 were made for his deliverance ? Had it been practi- 
 cable, almost any sum of money might have been 
 raised to effect his rescue. For what ? Because his 
 life, on selfish principles, was of the least value to 
 any person present ? A gentleman from the Southern 
 States offered a reward of one thousand dollars to 
 any individual who would suggest a feasible plan for 
 saving him. Shame on the traducers of man's 
 heaven-descended nature. They simply felt that the 
 sufferer belonged to the great brotherhood of human- 
 ity. This was the secret of their excitement, their 
 sympathy, their tears, and labors for his salvation. 
 
 Now, during the prevalence of an epidemic, the 
 people of New Orleans act in the same way. They 
 19 
 
218 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 are in the highest degree earnest, excited, serious, 
 anxious, ready, one and all, to pour out their treas- 
 ures and their hearts' blood, if it could avail, to save 
 the victims of disease from the jaws of destruction. 
 
 The pulpit, literature, philosophy, and even poetry, 
 lend their combined influence in helping on the work 
 of misrepresenting and blackening the glorious traits 
 of our holy nature. The preacher sometimes tells 
 us that there is no real goodness outside of the 
 church. Who were the three hundred men that 
 laid down their lives at the Straits of Tliermopyla3, 
 to vindicate the liberties of their native land ? Who 
 were the thousands that have labored, toiled, and 
 died, in New Orleans, in the cause of benevolence ? 
 What estimate would be formed of their characters, 
 if they were tried by the line, square, and compass 
 of the AVestminster Catechism ? Call up from the 
 mists and shadows of bygone ages those noble and 
 sublime forms, those right, enlarged, generous, phil- 
 anthropic men, who poured out their lives for the 
 common weal. These men, in our day, would not, 
 on examination as to their creed, be admitted to the 
 communion of any Orthodox church. No, nor 
 would the Son of God himself. The church has 
 done more to propagate mean conceptions of human 
 nature than all the other influences which have 
 tended to corrupt, darken, and debase our misguided 
 race. 
 
 I repeat it, our books of travel, our history, poe- 
 try, romance, — the entire body of our literature, — 
 newspapers, reviews, works on political economy, 
 &c., all aid the pulpit in undervaluing and carica- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 210 
 
 tiiring human nature. I have never seen a letter, 
 j)ubHshed in the northern religious newspapers, pur- 
 porting to be a picture of the moral state of things 
 in New Orleans, which was not a gross libel. Every 
 one is exclaiming, " See, behold, how awfully wicked 
 the world is ! " I cannot join in this hue and cry ; I 
 long to exclaim in and out of the pulpit, " Behold 
 how good and noble mankind are ! " 
 
 I have mixed and conversed with the operatives 
 of Birmingham, Manchester, and Glasgow, and other 
 manufacturing cities of Great Britain. I have seen 
 the lazzaroni of Naples, and the most depi-cssed 
 classes of Europe ; among even these I witnessed 
 the manifestations of disinterested love, which Jesus 
 Christ defines as constituting the essence of true 
 religion. The very worst person has something of 
 this nobleness in his bosom. It is a perfection, the 
 idea of which, however dim and undefined, is more 
 or less the germ and element of every human soul. 
 Go to any state penitentiary, collect its inmates, set 
 before them the picture of a man " who loves the 
 most unlovely of his fellow-beings, as God himself 
 does ; who is accustomed to sympathize with the 
 most ignorant and debased ; to give to the most un- 
 charitable, if in need ; to forgive those who are 
 actuated only by revenge ; to be just to those who 
 would rob him of every farthing, if they had an op- 
 portunity ; to repay ceaseless hate with never-sleep- 
 ing love;" would they not gaze upon the portrait 
 with the profoundest satisfaction and delight ? But 
 all know that it is impossible for a human being to 
 sympathize with any virtue, unless he has in his own 
 
220 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 bosom some true perceptions of its charms, and a 
 capacity to become clothed therewith, I have often 
 come across the heroism of divine love in tlie hum- 
 blest walks of life, in the very lanes and hovels of 
 society. And on such occasions I always thank 
 God and take courage. 
 
 Cicero, in one of his moral treatises, remarks 
 that our affectional nature constantly improves. Be- 
 ginning with the tender sensibilities of home, it 
 imperceptibly enlarges, from the love of parent, 
 brother and sister, to those more expanded regards 
 which embrace the vast society of human kind. 
 Pope has thus paraphrased the thought : — 
 
 " Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake, 
 As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake : 
 The centre moved, a circle straight succeeds ; 
 Another still, and still another spreads 
 Friend, parent, neighbor, first it will embrace, 
 His country next, and next all human race." 
 
 Setting aside the Bible, with all its propitious influ- 
 ences, I have long thought that the progress and 
 experiences of human life, themselves, without any 
 other instrumentalities, except the Holy Spirit, which 
 operates on every heart, often inspire the soul with 
 those meek and gentle affections that are the essence 
 of evangelical holiness. I have been in the habit of 
 asking persons, in their dying moments, whether 
 they could, with all the soul, forgive their enemies 
 — their bitterest enemies. Invariably they have 
 answered in the affirmative. " We forgive all, as 
 we hope God will forgive us." I ask. Do not all 
 such persons die in possession of the right spirit ? 
 For Jesus declares the foro;iveness of enemies to be 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 221 
 
 the highest type of love. He tells us that in heaven 
 love is the only, the universal, and all-controlling 
 23rinciplc of action. It has glowed, and been groAV- 
 ing more intense, in the bosoms of angels, from 
 eternity. Here we may be neglected, forgotten, 
 despised, injured, and trampled upon. Biit be not 
 discouraged. All things will come out right at last. 
 Raise your eyes, saith Jesus, to that spirit land 
 where all things are radiant with the beams of an 
 unbounded benevolence. There we may anticipate 
 perfect love and confidence, the interchange of 
 benchcent deeds only ; a complete union of tastes 
 and feelings, hearts and fortunes. There we, and 
 all whom we love, are destined to become more inti- 
 mate and endeared, beauteous and refined, as long 
 as eternity shall last. 
 
 To me it is plain that the gospel affirms this doc- 
 trine : that no creed, no scheme of redemption, no 
 power of fiiith, or repentance, is sufficient to insure 
 one's salvation who hates his brother. Equally 
 positive is it in asserting, that all who die in the 
 exercise of a forgiving spirit will go to heaven. 
 This category embraces all mankind, excepting in- 
 fants and idiots. I know the clergy generally teach 
 that death, of itself, has no power to change or im- 
 prove the moral character. A more erroneous doctrine 
 was never taught. Mere dying does more towards 
 sanctifying a man than all the preceding acts, events, 
 and influences of his life. It is the furnace by which 
 he is purified, and prepared to enter, some time or 
 other, upon the scenes of a purer and nobler exist- 
 ence, with angels and the just made perfect. 
 19* 
 
222 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE STATE OP EELIGION IN NEW ORLEANS THIRTY-FIVE 
 
 YEARS AGO. THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH OF 
 
 LOUISIANA. ITS AUSPICIOUS INFLUENCE ON THE 
 
 HIGHEST WELFARE OF ITS VOTARIES, MORAL, SOCIAL, 
 
 AND SPIRITUAL. THE PECULIAR DIFFICULTIES WHICH 
 
 CHRISTIANITY ENCOUNTERS IN NEW ORLEANS AT THE 
 PRESENT DAY. 
 
 Multitudes suppose that genuine Christianity was 
 not introduced into New Orleans till after its ces- 
 sion to the United States, the beginning of the 
 present century. The first American missionaries, 
 who visited the place shortly after the close of the 
 last war with Great Britain, in their published let- 
 ters and reports, expressed the opinion that the 
 preaching of the gospel was as much needed in New 
 Orleans as in any other spot in the whole world. 
 They affirmed that there the pure faith of the New 
 Testament was unknown and untaught. Yet the 
 Catholic religion had been flourishing in that place 
 from its commencement, one hundred years pre- 
 vious. Churches, schools, asylums, nunneries, and 
 other institutiojis, such as are usually found in 
 Catholic communities, had been built, with great 
 labor and expense. 
 
 When deliberating on the expediency of- making 
 a settlement in New Orleans, I was told by divines 
 of my own denomination, that if I went there, the 
 most formidable enemy of the gospel would be 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 223 
 
 arrayed against me — namely, the Papal clmrch. 
 From a child I had been taught to regard Popery as 
 the man of sin, the great adversary of all goodness, 
 described in the Epistles and the Apocalypse by ^St. 
 John. In the chart of interpretation, pronounced 
 orthodox at the north, numbers, dates, persons, 
 places, and events were particularly laid down, to 
 })rovc that all the evils, woes, and calamities men- 
 tioned in the book of Revelation were the maledic- 
 tions of HeavQu, denouncing the Roman Catholics. 
 My instructors assured me that the Catholic faitli 
 was rapidly spreading in the western and southern 
 parts of our country. It should be counteracted, 
 they said, as far as possible, by sending out Protes- 
 tant missionaries, and establishing Sunday schools 
 throughout the great valley of the Mississippi. 
 
 One can hardly imagine how strong, blind, and 
 hateful were the prejudices against this Christian 
 sect which deluded my mind when I began a profes- 
 sional life in New Orleans. I had been there but a 
 few weeks before I was invited to dine at the house 
 of a liberal gentleman, where I was introduced to 
 several Catholic priests. I found them intelligent, 
 enlarged, refined, and remarkably interesting in con- 
 versation. Not a syllable was uttered about the dif- 
 ferences of our faith. I was charmed with their 
 style of manners. They left their clerical robes at 
 home, and deported themselves with all the ease, 
 elegance, and affability characteristic of well-informed 
 and polished laymen. Before we separated, I was 
 assured that they would be happy to see me at their 
 private residences any time, and in the most free and 
 
224 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 unceremonious manner. Gladly did 1 avail myself 
 of an opportunity to cultivate their acquaintance. 
 I wanted to obtain some personal knowledge of their 
 peculiar faith, principles, and ceremonies. Hereto- 
 fore, all that I had learned concerning these topics 
 had been derived from Protestant writings and con- 
 versation. I was anxious to hear them speak for 
 themselves. 
 
 In this respect my desires have been completely 
 gratified. The first time that I was alone with a 
 Catholic priest was an epoch in my existence. I was 
 encouraged, contrary to my expectation, to propose 
 Avhatever questions I chose in regard to his religion. 
 I did so, and was always answered with apparent 
 candor, directness, and sincerity. It seemed to 
 afford him great pleasure to impart the information 
 which I was solicitous to acquire. In a long conver- 
 sation we discussed the principal articles of the 
 Catholic creed — the authority of the pope, the 
 worship of images, transubstantiation, the infallibil- 
 ity of the church, auricular confession, &c. During 
 this interview I was struck with the fact that the 
 objections to these tenets usually made by Protestant 
 divines were met by explanations which I had never 
 before seen or heard of. For example, the charge 
 of worshipping images was denied, and refuted in 
 the following manner : " All persons," observed the 
 priest, " love to look on the picture of a deceased 
 friend, who was the object of their highest esteem 
 and affection when living. This is a universal trait 
 of human nature. The Catholic church, true to 
 this instinct, has employed art to preserve and trans- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 225 
 
 mit to otlier times, to bear onward from age to age, 
 the forms and expressions of those noble sufferers, 
 heroic apostles, and bright models of virtue that 
 flourished in the antecedent periods of the Christian 
 era. Wlio would not like to behold a perfect por- 
 trait of the Son of God, an exact representation of 
 his person, when he tabernacled in flesh? Would 
 not tlic sight warm, interest, and quicken our souls ? 
 Would it not exalt the tone of our piety ? 
 
 "It is not true," he continued, "that we offer 
 divine adoration — the homage due only to the Su- 
 preme Father — to these productions of human 
 genius, not excepting the Madonna, the image of the 
 Virgin Mary. We hold that the disembodied saints 
 of former and later times are really with us, behold- 
 ing our actions, and hearing our words, and helping 
 us to lead a good life. Is not this doctrine asserted 
 by Paul, in the following words ? ' Wherefore, seeing 
 we also are compassed about with so great a cloud 
 of irif.nesses, [meaning,* as all concede, departed 
 saints,] let us lay aside every weight, and the sin 
 which doth so easily beset us, and let us run w'ith 
 patience the race that is set before us ; looking unto 
 Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who, for 
 the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, 
 despising the shame, and is set down at the right 
 hand of the throne of God.' Now, with this beauti- 
 ful, inspiring faith, is it not both natural and proper 
 to request them to pray for us and bless us, as we 
 ask those holy persons whom we daily converse Avith 
 in the flesh, to remember xis in their thanksgivings 
 and supplications to God ? This is the head and 
 
226 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 front of our offending. And for such a simple, 
 scriptural practice wc are stigmatized as idolaters. 
 Do you think, sir, that this is fair and just ? " 
 
 I cannot resist the desire to relate an explanation, 
 given at the same time, of that sii,hlime mystery, 
 transubstantiation — the supposed conversion of the 
 bread and wine in the eucharist into the body and 
 blood of Christ. " We do not teach," he said, "that 
 there is any actual change in the elements percepti- 
 ble to our reason or our senses. The substances, 
 after consecration, are, externally and visibly, the 
 same as they were before ; but wc maintain that 
 then the body and blood of Christ are mysteriously 
 (in a manner incomprehensible to human reason) 
 present with the substance of the bread and wine. 
 So much Luther and his compeers professed to be- 
 lieve. So much is admitted by the Lutheran divines 
 of our day. Indeed, we defend transubstantiation 
 by precisely the same reasoning which is employed 
 by Protestant ministers generally in support of the 
 Trinity. Jesus says, ' This is my flesh and my blood.' 
 We stagger not at the declaration of God tln*ough 
 unbelief. We do not undertake to solve the mystery 
 upon philosophical principles, but receive it on the 
 authority of revelation, with a cordial, reverential, 
 and implicit faith. In the same manner your clergy 
 remark concerning the Trinity. For there are tliree 
 that bear record in heaven — the Father, the Word, 
 and the Hot// Ghost, and these three are one. Not 
 one literally, they say, not one to the eye of human 
 reason — that is impossible; but one in a glorious, 
 transcendental, s{)iritual sense, at present inexplicable 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 227 
 
 to our narrow, benighted, gross, and sensual minds. 
 Am I not right? " inquired the priest. 
 
 It was not in my power to return a negative 
 answer to the question. In a manner equally fair 
 were the other peculiar articles of the Catholic faith 
 simplified and explained. At the close of this inter- 
 view, and, indeed, ever since, I have felt that a recep- 
 tion of the theology which was at that time taught at 
 Andover required as much faith in what seems to the 
 natural mind irrational or absurd, as that of any 
 doctrine taught by the church of Rome. I have no 
 space to pursue this topic further. Its full unfold- 
 ing would require a volume. But no Protestant 
 Trinitarian can consistently object to the Papal 
 church, that its doctrines are repugnant to reason. 
 They are not a whit more so than many of those 
 which he most strenuously advocates. 
 
 I have often witnessed the celebration of high 
 mass, not only in New Orleans, but also in various 
 parts of Europe. There is not on earth another 
 ceremony so august, solemn, and impressive. When 
 the bell rings, at the instant of transubstantiation, 
 the whole audience fall on their knees simultane- 
 ously, in silent, profound prostration before the altar, 
 praying for the forgiveness of their sins, believing 
 with all the soul that the body and blood of Christ 
 are that moment before them, offered as a complete 
 expiation, if they are truly penitent, not only for the 
 sins they may have committed the past week, but 
 during the whole of their past lives. The effect is 
 thrillingly, incfflxbly sublime. There is nothing in 
 our Protestant churches superior to it, as it regards 
 
228 AUTOBIOOr'tAPIIY OF 
 
 impressivencss. I w.i.i unco, o.i a beautiful Sabbath 
 moriiiug, in St. Peter's, at Rome, and during tliis 
 part of the worship I coukl not help kneeling myself 
 upon the tessellated pavement, to recognize my rela- 
 tion to that cross which speaks a universal language, 
 which sheds the only light that shines on this dark 
 world of sin — that cross which is both the emblem 
 and pledge of our final triumph over death, and ad- 
 mission to the realms of everlasting life and happi- 
 ness. If I had been brought up from childhood in 
 the Roman Catholic fold, no modification of my 
 theological views, nothing this side the grave, could 
 tempt me to stray away from a worship whose forms 
 and ritual arc so simple and significant, yet, at the 
 same time, grand, elevating, divine, and pure. I do 
 not wonder that to those who have always been ac- 
 customed to a Roman Catholic church, our Protes- 
 tant meetings should seem so unedifying, and even 
 irreverent. Were I to become a Trinitarian this 
 year, I should, with all possible sincerity and earnest- 
 ness, seek for immediate admission to the most holy 
 Catholic church, " which is built upon tlie founda- 
 tion of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ him- 
 self being the chief corner stone." 
 
 I rejoice that some of the Protestant divines of 
 our day seem willing to acknowledge that there are 
 good and beautifvil things even in Catholicism. Dr. 
 Dewey, in his Journal of a Tour in Europe, writes 
 as follows : " Nothing in Rome has astonished me so 
 much as her three hundred and fifty churches. Any 
 one of them is such a wonder and beauty as, if 
 placed in America, would draw visitors from all parts 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 229 
 
 of the coiiiitiy. The entire interior walls of many 
 of these cliurehes are clothed with polished antique 
 marble. They are hung round with paintings, and 
 filled with marble pillars, statues, tombs, and altars. 
 These altars, built often of jasper, porphyry, and the 
 most precious stones, are commonly placed in re- 
 cesses or chapels on each side of the church, so that 
 they offer some retirement to the votary. 
 
 " I confess that I seldom enter these churches 
 without an impulse to engage in worship. My com- 
 panions both agree witli me. We have often said, 
 that if it were not for the air of pretension it would 
 have to any of our acquaintances who might chance 
 to pass, we should certainly do it. As we were 
 walking in St. Peter's to-day, one said, ' // does not 
 signifjj. I do luish in serious earnest that I could be 
 a Catholic. I like their forms. These ever open 
 churches, these ever ascending prayers ; the deep 
 seclusion and silence ; the dim religious light ; the 
 voices of morning mass or vesper hymn ; the sacred 
 themes depicted upon every wall and dome ; and 
 again and evermore these holy altars, whose steps 
 have been worn by the knees of pilgrims of ages 
 past, — all these things commend themselves, not 
 merely to the imagination, but to the most profound, 
 unaffected sentiments of devotion." 
 
 Again he says, " One of the interesting services in 
 the Catholic calendar consists of a periodical celebra- 
 tion of the virtues and sufferings of the saint or 
 martyr to whom any particular church is dedicated. 
 There are appropriate prayers and thanksgivings, 
 anthems sung in commemoration of former days and 
 20 
 
230 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 deeds ; the church is illuminated and clothed with 
 decorations, to make the ceremony as attractive and 
 interesting as possible. While many things ancient 
 and venerable are passing away, I would lay my 
 hand on the records of ancient glory, and preserve 
 them. The virtues of the world are the treasures 
 of the world. I would enshrine them in sacred 
 rites ; I would embalm them as the bones of the 
 saints are actually preserved, in the very altars of 
 the sanctuary. To praise virtue is to commend it to 
 the respect of others. But we never respect it so 
 feelingly and deeply as when we behold it clothed 
 with the beauty and power of example. Let, then, 
 I would say, goodness and good men be remembered 
 by appropriate times, seasons, and services ; let holy 
 rites set forth, let holy words recount, their deeds 
 and sufferings ; let their virtues be borne upon the 
 breath of music, an offering and a thanksgiving to 
 Heaven. 
 
 " And a festival in Catholic countries to commem- 
 orate all saints — all g-ood men — a season around 
 which is gathered the mighty host of those who, in 
 faith and patience, in suffering and triumph, have 
 gone to heaven, — this, I confess, strikes my mind as 
 something most meet, suitable, and hallowing. Our 
 Protestant religion is too naked of such associations. 
 "We are too reserved, I think, even in expressing our 
 regard towards living worth ; we arc not likely, then, 
 to give too much expansion and expression to our 
 enthusiasm for the heroism and .sanctity of former 
 days. It teaches a useful lesson to those who are 
 struggling against the tide of this world's tempta- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 231 
 
 tions ; it teaches a beautiful lesson to the young, the 
 ardent aspirant after virtue, to know that the piety 
 and fortitude which, in their day, were humble and 
 cast down, and fearful and despised, have at length 
 come to live amid anthem and prayer, in the ever- 
 lasting memory of all generations." How vehement, 
 passionate, and stirring, as well as just, is the elo- 
 quence of the above quotations ! 
 
 Since my acquaintance with Louisiana began, 
 there have been, I believe, at no time, less than 
 twenty priests stationed in New Orleans. Besides 
 performing clerical functions in churches, chapels, 
 convents, asylums, and hospitals, they have founded 
 and kept in vigorous operation numerous schools and 
 seminaries of learning for both sexes. In these 
 respective vocations they have displayed the most 
 unflagging zeal, and ardent, persevering industry. 
 No Protestant ministers in the United States, of any 
 denomination, accomplish as much hard service as 
 they do. Morning, noon, and night, at all seasons, 
 whether healthy or sickly, they arc engaged in the 
 prosecution of their arduous and responsible labors. 
 Apparently, they live as if each day were their last, 
 and as it becomes those to live who know not what a 
 day, what an hour, may bring forth. Like the sun, 
 which never pauses and never goes astray, so they 
 revolve in the orbit of duty, a light, a charm, an 
 ornament, and a blessing, to all who are embraced 
 in their spiritual guardianship. 
 
 In addition to the duties common to churches of 
 every name, they are required to keep their places 
 of worship open, not on the Sabbath only, but during 
 
232 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 each day of the week. At every altar, mass is per- 
 formed at least once a day. Thou, the labor in- 
 volved in the duties of the confessional is inconceiv- 
 able to one who has not lived among the Catholics. 
 I have known a priest engaged from daylight till 
 noon, uninterruptedly, in receiving penitents, and 
 that in the most inclement weather. All this time, 
 he sits in a small place like a sentry box, applying 
 his car, in a stooping posture, to an aperture in the 
 surrounding lattice work, wiiich separates him from 
 those who are making their confessions to him. 
 This toil is unintermitted and everlasting. In the 
 intense heat of July and the cold of December, (they 
 have no fires in their churches,) it imposes a drud- 
 gery more severe than that of the poorest operative 
 in secular life, whether he rolls the barrel and bale 
 in the city, or digs and toils on a plantation. 
 
 In the cholera of 1832, I was the only Protestant 
 clergyman that remained in the city, except the Rev. 
 Mr. Hull, of the Episcopal church, who was confined 
 to his house by a lingering consumption, and unable 
 even to leave his room. This gentleman never left 
 the city in sickly seasons, but fearlessly continued at 
 his post, however great and alarming the mortality 
 around him. So it was that in the first cholera I 
 had no coadjutors but the Roman Catholic priests. 
 
 One of these. Father K., was among my most in- 
 timate personal acquaintances. He often dined with 
 me, and spent hours at a time in the seclusion of my 
 study. A better man I have not known. He was 
 as liberal in his theological views as Dr. Channing 
 or Bishop Fenelon, and yet most ardently attached 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 233 
 
 to the Roman Catholic church. He was a firm dis- 
 believer ill the doctrine of endless misery, but did 
 not advocate this view of futurity in his public dis- 
 courses. His charities, like his soul, were large and 
 unbounded. He inherited a handsome property, 
 which enabled him to gratify his benevolent desires. 
 In his labors during the cholera, this gentleman 
 gave his services to all, indiscriminately, who needed 
 the consolations of religion, whether Protestant or 
 Catliolic sufferers. " I feel," he said, " that all men 
 are my brethren, and heirs of the same immortality. 
 I spend all my time among the sick, irrespective of 
 tlieir character or creed. 
 
 " I am not allowed, indeed, to administer the rite 
 of extreme unction to unbelievers. I do not attcm])t 
 it. But with respect to such cases, I have a peculiar 
 service of my own devising, dictated by the condition 
 and circumstances of the sufferers around me, and 
 which is not in any respect incompatible with my 
 relations to the priesthood. I propound one ques- 
 tion only to the departing sinner. I ask him if he 
 believes in Almighty God, his Creator. If he answer 
 affirmatively, (as all have hitherto done, without an 
 exception,) I then offer this short prayer : May 
 that merciful Creator, in whom you exist, forgive and 
 bless you, and conduct you finally to those immortal 
 joys which Jesus has procured for all men in that 
 ' undiscovered country from whose bourn no trav- 
 eller returns.' " Could any thing be more simple, 
 appropriate, or sublime ? He added, tears starting 
 from his eyes with the utterance, " If it were in my 
 power to prevent it, not one of these unhappy vic« 
 20* 
 
234 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OP 
 
 tims would be finally and forever lost." Will not, 
 then, infinite, everlasting, and immutable mercy 
 ultimately achieve their deliverance ? 
 
 This excellent man lost his life in carrying out an 
 enterprise of benevolence. He Tindertook to establish 
 an asylum and school for orphan boys on the Bayou St. 
 John. He had collected quite a number of fatherless 
 children, and made suitable arrangements for their 
 maintenance and education ; and when every thing, to 
 human view, promised a rich harvest of success, the 
 enterprise was suddenly blasted by the ravages of a 
 tornado. It commenced about sundown, and before 
 midnight caused the waters of Lake Pontcliartrain 
 to rise several feet, and flow towards the city like 
 the incoming tide of an ocean. At the dead hour 
 of night, Father K. was aroused by the rushing of 
 the waters into his room. He made all possible haste 
 to awaken the boys, and placed them under the di- 
 rection of a tutor, who soon conducted them beyond 
 the reach of danger. Then he took some servants 
 with him to the stables, to save a fine stock of cows 
 from drowning. This object was accomplished, but 
 with great difficulty. The good man waded and 
 swam in the water so long that it brought on a chill 
 and typhoid fever, which in a few days terminated 
 his invaluable life and labors. To the community 
 in general, and to myself in particular, his death 
 was an irreparable loss. Our views on religion, and 
 our tastes in general, were singularly harmonious. 
 Strong and deathless were the sympathies by which 
 we were united. I have not known a clergyman of 
 my own persuasion whom I loved with a purer, in- 
 tenser affection. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 235 
 
 It is a wide-spread opinion that Roman Catholic 
 priests practise certain immoralities, not only with 
 impunity, but with the entire approbation of their 
 parishioners, which, in Protestant communities, 
 would blast completely and forever the reputation 
 and influence of a minister. It affords me great 
 pleasure to testify, that in New Orleans, just as much 
 as in Boston or New York, a spotless moral life is 
 a qualification indispensably necessary to the good 
 standing of any clergyman, whether Protestant or 
 Catholic. Priests are never seen in Louisiana at 
 balls, theatres, private dancing parties, or operas 
 even. 
 
 They do not teach that these amusements, ab- 
 stractly considered, are sinful, but that, such are 
 the weakness and prejudices of large classes in ev- 
 ery community, they look upon it as incompatible 
 with the spirituality and refinement of the priest- 
 hood to participate in their enjoyment. In their 
 public deportment, the Roman Catholic priests of 
 New Orleans are models of clerical wisdom, decorum, 
 and propriety. They are sufhcicntly grave, serious, 
 and dignified, and at the same time free from affec- 
 tation, simple, natural, condescending, agreeable, 
 and unconstrained in tlieir intercourse with persons 
 of every age, character, and condition in life. I 
 have sometimes been present when their religious 
 peculiarities have been assailed by unjust, gross, and 
 insulting insinuations, and beheld with profound 
 admiration their imperturbable equanimity, meek- 
 ness, and forbearance. Happy would it be if all 
 who profess to be the ministers of Christ should 
 
236 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OP 
 
 faithfully follow the example of Him " who did no 
 sin, neither Avas guile found in his mouth ; not 
 rendering evil for evil, or railing for railing, but 
 contrariwise blessing ; who, when he was reviled, 
 reviled not again ; when he suffered, threatened not ; 
 but committed himself to Him that judgeth right- 
 eously." 
 
 Shortly after my settlement in New Orleans, I 
 was called to reside for two years in the lower part 
 of the city, in the midst of a population exclusively 
 Catholic. There was hardly a single Protestant 
 family within half of a mile from our domicile. 
 When we took up our abode there, we expected to 
 be quite solitary and lonely. But very soon our 
 neighbors became acquainted with us, and showed 
 the utmost civility and attention. We found them 
 sincere, warm-hearted, polite, affable, and as kind 
 when we were in sickness and trouble as if they 
 had been united to us by the closest ties of natural 
 affinity. It struck me that persons so agreeable and 
 exemplary in private life and the domestic circle 
 must have a religion not entirely devoid of exalted 
 and ennobling influences. Hence I determined to 
 avail myself of the opportunity afforded me of be- 
 coming thoroughly acquainted with the religious 
 hal)its and practices of the laity in every-day life, as 
 well as in the cathedral. 
 
 It was my good fortune to be admitted to a most 
 confidential and familiar footing with a Creole fam- 
 ily occupying a fashionable and distinguished position 
 in society. The lady was a native of New Orleans, 
 and had never been out of the State of Louisiana. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 237 
 
 She had not been personally acquainted with any 
 Protestant minister except myself. She had never 
 read any of our religious books. She had breathed 
 a Roman Catholic atmosphere only, from the cradle 
 upwards. As to every particular, I have not seen, 
 in the whole course of my life, a more charming 
 woman. Her personal attractions were of the high- 
 est order, set off with that indescribable ease, sim- 
 plicity, and elegance peculiar to French ladies, and 
 which render their style of manners so fascinating. 
 Her mind had been carefully cultivated. Besides 
 music and other accomplishments, her knowledge 
 of books and the world enabled her to shine in con- 
 versation. 
 
 She was an example of industry and economy in 
 the management of her domestic affairs. Xo mar- 
 ried lady of New England was ever superior to her 
 in this respect. She presided at the dinner table 
 with unsurpassed grace and dignity ; and before tlie 
 guests were seated, invariably called on some one to 
 supplicate the blessing of Almighty God upon the 
 entertainment. It is no exaggeration to say, that 
 this lady possessed those rare excellences and proi> 
 erties of a good wife so graphically described in the 
 last chapter of the book of Proverbs. 
 
 But what seemed to me most wonderful in the 
 person I am speaking of, was the superiority of her 
 attaimnents in spiritual excellence. She commenced 
 each day with pra3'er, reading, and meditation. On 
 one occasion, she was so obliging as to invite me to 
 examine her oratory, as she called it — the little 
 chapel appropriated for her private devotional exer- 
 
238 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 
 
 cises. Upon a table on one side of the room lay her 
 most favorite religious books. Among these were 
 the Bible, and the Imitation of Christ, by Thomas 
 a Kcmpis — a work praised and used by Protestants 
 of all denominations. It has been translated into 
 all modern languages, and republished more than a 
 thousand times. Indeed, this work is the storehouse 
 whence Dr. Doddridge drew his principal materials 
 in the composition of that celebrated manual called 
 the Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul. I 
 remember this work more particularly, because its 
 leaves were soiled, and almost worn out by constant 
 use, like the horn book in which little children learn 
 their letters and rudiments. Indeed, she said that 
 for years she had been in the constant habit of pe- 
 rusing this volume, along with the sacred Scriptures. 
 Of all uninspired productions, it had the warmest 
 place in her heart. 
 
 I learned one fact from this lady, which illustrates 
 the superior wisdom and efficiency of the Roman 
 Catholic religion. The whole routine of her every- 
 day life was particularly marked out and prescribed 
 by the rules of the church ; so that, by this means, 
 every moment and hour were occupied with that 
 faithful discharge of duties which consecrated the 
 whole scene of her existence, filling her soul with 
 an approving conscience, heavenly peace, and virtue 
 pure — " sacred, substantial, never-failing bliss." 
 But the Protestant minister contents himself with 
 meeting his communicants once or twice a week 
 only, in the church. Here he expounds to them 
 the principles and rules of a holy life. After the 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 239 
 
 benediction they disperse, and he sees them not 
 again till the succeeding Sabbath. He cannot tell 
 whether, during the intervening days, they have 
 lived like heathen or Christians. 
 
 But the pious Catholic, during the whole time 
 passed out of the church, feels that he is in the pres- 
 ence not only of Almighty God, but also of the priest- 
 hood. For every Sunday morning he expects to render 
 his father confessor an account of his doings for the 
 week just finished. The lady above mentioned, 
 speaking of the advantages of frequently confessing 
 to a priest, remarked, " Why, if I were not in the 
 habit of making a moral reckoning with myself every 
 week, but were to put it off to that unknown, dis- 
 tant, imaginary period, called the day of judgment, 
 with the sincerest intentions, I should be at the best 
 but a feeble, languid, vacillating Christian." Mem- 
 orable words ! Well would it be for every Protes- 
 tant to ponder their import with deep attention. 
 The Methodists have in their class meetings a sort 
 of substitute for these weekly confessions. Hence 
 this cluirch deservedly enjoys a distinguished repu- 
 tation for earnest, efficient, and every-day piety. 
 
 One evening I was at her house, when the conver- 
 sation turned on the topic of there being no salvation 
 out of the pale of the Catholic church. She expressed 
 her opinion touching this matter in terms like these : 
 " I believe that true religion consists in qualities of 
 the heart, not in ceremonies merely — in loving God 
 with all the said, and onr neighbors as ourselves. 
 They who are actuated supremely by these senti- 
 ments must be saved, whether Catholics, Protestants, 
 
240 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 Jews, Mahometans, or Pagans." A priest, sitting 
 by, exclaimed, " That is right ! Why, even Mr. 
 Clapp may he saved upon our own principles, for it 
 is a canonical doctrine among us, that any honest 
 errorist will be accepted on the ground of invincible 
 ignorance — an ignorance which he had no adequate 
 means of overcoming." In the preceding para- 
 graphs I have given a true, unexaggerated, but im- 
 perfect portrait of one woman who adorned the 
 Catholic communion. There are thousands like it 
 in different parts of our beloved land. Would to 
 God that every woman in this republic had essen- 
 tially the same beautiful character. 
 
 Never, till I went to Louisiana, did I behold that 
 living and most perfect exemplification of a Chris- 
 tian spirit exhibited in the conduct and benefactions 
 of those denominated Sisters of Charity. Look at 
 them. They were, in many instances, born and 
 bred in the lap of worldly ease and luxury. But, 
 in obedience to a sense of religious duty, they have 
 relinquished the pleasures of time for the charms of 
 a life consecrated to duty and to God. There, calm 
 and gentle as angels, they stay at their posts amid 
 the most frightful epidemics, till death comes to take 
 them to a better world. What a spectacle ! Their 
 whole existence is passed in watching the sick, and 
 performing for them the most menial offices. They, 
 indeed, fulfil the injunction of the apostle, " Honor 
 all men." They glorify our common humanity. 
 They feed the hungry and clothe the naked. When 
 I have seen them smoothing the pillow, and whisper- 
 ing the consolations of religion for some unfortunate 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 241 
 
 fellow-being, in his last moments, — dying among 
 strangers, far from home, never again to bcliukl 
 the face of "wife, cliild, relative, or friend this side 
 the grave, — I could hardly realize that they were 
 beings of mortality. Tliey seemed to me like min- 
 istering angels sent down from the realms of celes- 
 tial glory. 0, how immeasurable the disparity be- 
 tween one of these noble spirits and a mere creature 
 of the feminine gender, devoted exclusively to the 
 follies and vanities of fashionable life, who makes a 
 dazzling show for a few hours, and then sinks to be 
 seen no more. These angels are seen in all our hos- 
 pitals, both public and private, and in other places 
 where their services are required, irrespective of 
 the distinctions of name, religion, party, clime, or 
 nation. 
 
 Indeed the Roman Catholic church is infinitely 
 superior to any Protestant denomination in its pro- 
 visions of mercy and charity for the poor. They 
 seek to inspire the most wretched and forlorn with 
 those hopes that point to a better world. When I 
 was in St. Peter's Church at Rome, on a Sunday 
 morning, I saw the poorest, most obscure and neg- 
 lected persons kneeling on its splendid pavement, 
 by the side of the most noble inhabitants of the 
 Eternal City. In that cathedral, there is no place 
 assigned for the exclusive use of fashionable people, 
 any more than there is in heaven. All meet on the 
 same level, as children of one common Father ; as de- 
 pendent on the same pardoning mercy ; as travellers 
 to the same grave ; as partakers of the same promises, 
 and heirs of the same immortal glory. Throughout 
 21 
 
242 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Catholic Europe, the doors of the churches arc kept 
 open day and night, from year to year, and century 
 to century. There, at any hour of the day, the for- 
 saken outcast, on whom the world has ceased to 
 smile, can repair, and falling down before the altar 
 of his God, feel supported by the sublime faith that 
 he has in heaven a better and everlasting inherit- 
 ance. I may say that Catholic churches are the 
 homes of the poor. In countries enjoying this form 
 of Christianity, the most fallen are incomparably 
 less degraded than the worst of those who live in 
 Protestant lands. 
 
 Besides, they all, without distinction, participate 
 in the sacraments of religion. No one is permitted to 
 die without the rites of the church. So it should 
 be. Few Protestants know what is the nature of 
 that last benediction, which the priest pronounces 
 over the dying man. It runs, if I have been cor- 
 rectly informed, in a strain somewhat like the fol- 
 lowing: "Go forth, thou immortal spirit, in the 
 name of the Father who created thee, in the name 
 of the Son who died to redeem thee, and in the name 
 of the Holy Spirit that sanctifies thee ; and when 
 thou leavest the body, may the resplendent multi- 
 tudes of angels greet thee ; may the spirits of the 
 just, clad in their white robes, embrace thee, and 
 conduct thee to the everlasting mansions of the 
 blessed." Could there be any thing more appro- 
 priate, more beautiful, touching, and grand ? But 
 with us the poor die without a clergyman, without 
 a prayer, without a friend, without any recognition 
 of their immortality, as if they were about to lie 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 243 
 
 down with kindred brutes, in the same ditch, to exist 
 no more forever. 
 
 No Protestant denomination, with the exception 
 of the Methodists, have suitably remembered the 
 poor. This remark was once made by a distin- 
 guished prelate of the church of England. In our 
 Northern cities. New York, &c., there is an actual 
 rivalry as to which church shall be the most exclu- 
 sive. And one congregation has erected a separate 
 building for the poor to worship in. Churches are 
 constrncted on purpose to shut out tlie poor. The 
 pews are sold, like the boxes of a theatre, to the 
 highest bidder. The poor can never enter there. 
 O, what a commentary on the Christianity of our 
 times ! After spending the week in folly and dissi- 
 pation, the aristocratic among us can repair to a 
 fashionable place of worship on the Lord's day 
 morning, to gratify a love of dress, to indulge that 
 wicked, pitiful vanity, which one act of true reli- 
 gious worship would annihilate forever. I do not 
 know where all this will end ; but I do know that 
 Protestantism will soon go down into the dust and 
 darkness of death, unless it clianges its entire eccle- 
 siastical plans and policies. Eternal honor be to the 
 Roman Catholic church, for practically observing 
 the distinctive precept of our religion to remember 
 and bless the poor. For the larger the charity of a 
 church, the nearer it is to God. 
 
 Now, the Catholic church, as I have described it, 
 went along with the first colonists, who settled them- 
 selves on the banks of the Mississippi. It has grown 
 with their growth and streno-thencd with their 
 
244 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 strength, and the religious wants of the people of 
 Louisiana have been as well supplied as those of 
 Massachusetts, all things considered. I never go 
 abroad without being compelled to listen to the ut- 
 terance of tlie most disparaging and unjust remarks 
 about my adopted state. 
 
 Travelling in Europe in 1847, when introduced to 
 distinguished literary gentlemen as a resident of 
 New Orleans, they almost invariably said, " We have 
 always been told that your city is the most wicked, 
 immoral place in the United States." One distin- 
 guished author, speaking of Louisiana, observed, 
 " Its physical resources are undoubtedly very supe- 
 rior ; but, alas ! you have no literature and no his- 
 tory — the only things which can shed glory on a 
 state. This is the first time I have ever met an 
 educated gentleman from New Orleans. I am really 
 glad to see you. Has Louisiana yet produced any 
 scholars, poets, orators, or savans, worthy of note?" 
 This question was asked, as I thought, in the spirit of 
 sneering and sarcasm. It seemed intended merely 
 to wound my feelings ; for, a moment before, I had 
 remarked that the first log cabin on the spot where 
 New Orleans is built, then a wretched swamp, was 
 erected within a century, and that nearly all the 
 improvements in the state had been made within 
 the last fifty years. 
 
 I ventured to reply thus : " Sir, you are familiar 
 with the circle of luiman history. Did you ever 
 read of an instance in which a nation only one, two, 
 or three hundred years old had enriched itself with 
 crio-inal works of science and literature ? It took 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 245 
 
 nearly one hnndred and twenty years to build St. 
 Peter's Church. What a long succession of ages 
 was requisite to produce the cities, temples, palaces, 
 and galleries of art, which adorn England, France, 
 and Italy ! Hitherto, the people of Louisiana have 
 been occupied, of necessity, in reclaiming and for- 
 tifying their lowlands against the annual inunda- 
 tions of the Mississippi, building houses, turning 
 cypress swamps into beautiful plantations, and pro- 
 viding themselves with the various physical accom- 
 modations and improvements upon which the super- 
 structure of civilized life every where rests. At 
 present, for the most part, they import their books, 
 not because they want the genius, but the time and 
 other means essential to the creations of art and 
 philosophy. As to our history, it is very recent, but 
 contains some items of interest. You have heard, I 
 suppose, of the invasion of New Orleans l)y your 
 countrymen in 1815, and remember the results." 
 
 "True," he said, " the victory to which you have 
 referred must be classed with the most l)rilliant dis- 
 plays of military skill and bravery recorded in the 
 annals of time." He was surprised to learn that 
 the conquerors of Napoleon were subdued by a 
 patriot band of peaceful planters and merchants, 
 who fought for their homes with the same undaunt- 
 ed, invincible spirit which has inscribed the names 
 of Leonidas, Miltiades, and Washington on the tab- 
 lets of immortal glory. Charles Gayarre, late sec- 
 retary of the State of Louisiana, has given to the 
 world a noble work upon our history. It is replete 
 with narratives of wild, romantic, and thrilling intcr- 
 21 * 
 
246 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 est. The author is a Creole, thoroughly acquainted 
 with the character of Louisiana, deeply enamoured 
 of its beauties, and has painted them in elegant and 
 polished language. 
 
 When I travel in New England, too, I am often 
 pained by hearing Louisiana spoken of in terms of 
 disparagement and vituperation. Last summer, a 
 clergyman of Massachusetts observed to me that he 
 could hardly conceive of a greater calamity than for 
 a pious and enlightened minister to be compelled to 
 spend his days in Louisiana, where Christianity was 
 encumbered by the corruptions of the Roman Catho- 
 lic church. I have already given my opinion con- 
 cerning the practical Cliristianity displayed by the 
 priests, and their care for the poor, the outcast, the 
 sick, and the dying. 
 
 There is indeed less religious display in Louisiana 
 than in some other sections of our Union ; but if 
 what Paul asserts in the thirteenth chapter of First 
 Corinthians be admitted, that the essence of Chris- 
 tianity consists in generous affections and sympathies 
 towards onr fellow-beings, I contend that the inhab- 
 itants of Louisiana have qnite as much religion as 
 those of Massachusetts, New York, or any otlier 
 northern state. Charity, says the apostle, as above 
 quoted, is the only thing absolutely needful in order 
 to our acceptance with God, the charm and glory of 
 the intelligent universe, the very soul, life, and 
 breath of heaven itself. I would simply ask our 
 traducers whether they can see our hearts, and posi- 
 tively pronounce them to be destitute of those noble 
 sentiments denominated charity in the New Testa- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 247 
 
 ment. I would invite them to remember and act 
 in accordance with the following words of Jesus : 
 "Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what 
 judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged; and with 
 what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you 
 again. Who art thou that judgest another man's 
 servant? to his own master he standcth or falloth." 
 If gospel benevolence proves the existence of Chris- 
 tian principles, it is certain that true religion reigns 
 and flourishes as vigorously in Louisiana as on the 
 banks of the Hudson or Connecticut. 
 
 Some reader may feel inclined to say, "If the above 
 statements are true, would it not be best for us all to 
 join the Roman Catholic church immediately ? " I 
 should answer, " Yes, provided you can honestly sub- 
 scribe to its theological opinions." For myself, I can- 
 not believe in the Athanasian doctrine of the Trinity. 
 If it were in my power to adopt this system, I should 
 as soon as possible become a Roman Catholic. I 
 cannot but regard our doctrinal views as more sim- 
 ple, true, and evangelical than theirs. But their 
 ecclesiastical organization, rules, and polity are infi- 
 nitely superior to that of any Protestant denomina- 
 tion in Christendom. And the more closely a sect 
 imitates Popery in these particulars, the greater will 
 be their usefulness and prosperity. I wish well to 
 this ancient, venerable dispensation of Christianity. 
 I rejoice that her churches, schools, and nunneries 
 are multiplying on every side. I should like to see 
 them spread from the Atlantic to the Pacific, from 
 the Arctic Sea to the Antarctic, till the matin and 
 vesper bells shall resound along the valleys, from hill 
 
248 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 to hill, and from mountain to mountain, tlu'ougliout 
 a republic covering the entire western continent. 
 
 A great deal has been said of late about the dan- 
 ger to this country in consequence of the immigra- 
 tion to our shores of Catholics from foreign lands. 
 It is thought that the poor Irish, who are constantly 
 coming among us in such crowds, will exert a most 
 deleterious influence, putting in jeopardy our civil 
 liberties, and sowing broadcast over the land the 
 seeds of moral contagion and death. The poor 
 Irish — may Heaven bless them! I Avant not their 
 aid at the ballot box. Never shall I be a candidate 
 for their suffrages. Yet I can say witli entire disin- 
 terestedness that I cherish towards them the liveliest 
 sympathies. 
 
 I have seen much of the Irish in New Orleans, 
 in seasons of peril and disaster. I love them, 
 however poor, for their many generous and noble 
 traits of character. I do not fear that their influ- 
 ence will be injurious to us, either in a political or 
 religious bearing. But I am reminded that they 
 bring to our shores degraded, dangerous characters 
 and habits. If it were really so, is it to be wondered 
 at, when we remember what scenes of the most atro- 
 cious despotism have been grinding them to the dust 
 for a long series of ages ? They are exiles, seeking 
 a refuge from want and oppression. They are God's 
 children. They are our brothers. In the extremest 
 need and destitution, should we not open our arms 
 to receive them with a cordial welcome, and rejoice 
 that they can find a home in this happy land of 
 peace, freedom, and plenty ? It is not in my heart 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 249 
 
 to speak of them in terms of contempt and bitter- 
 ness. He who applies to them vile and opprobrious 
 epithets virtually " reproaches their Maker." 
 
 But, some say, they are stupendously ignorant. 
 Is it their fault, if they are so ? For more than 
 seventy years, in Ireland, a Catholic schoolmaster 
 was liable to be transported, and if he returned, to 
 be adjudged guilty of high treason, barbarously put 
 to death, drawn and quartered. This most iniquitous 
 law broke up their schools. The children of neces- 
 sity grew up uneducated, and must come here igno- 
 rant, if they come at all. I thank God that they 
 do come ; there is room enough for them all. I 
 rejoice on their own account ; for it is an encour- 
 aging, well-established fact that, in general, Irish 
 immigrants, as soon as they land among us, begin to 
 improve, and rapidly to assume a more elevated 
 character, especially when they do not forsake their 
 national church, and prove recreant to the faith of 
 tlieir forefathers. Their children can hardly be dis- 
 criminated from those born of English ancestors, 
 and lose all trace of their original descent, except in 
 those impulses of a naturally noble and generous 
 heart, which distinguish Irishmen in all times, in all 
 latitudes, and under every phase of outward condi- 
 tion and circumstances. 
 
 Some are afraid of their religion. It is perfectly 
 safe in a free country to tolerate all forms of religion, 
 because the principle of reverence in man, uninflu- 
 enced by coercion, can never lead to any species of 
 immorality. If the Roman Catholics become more 
 numerous in this republic than any other sect, the 
 
250 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 fact will prove conclusively the superiority of their 
 teachings and mode of worship. That they should 
 grow, till finally to outnumher all the Protestant 
 denominations, is hardly possible. Besides, church 
 despotism belongs to the things forever gone by. It 
 cannot be resuscitated. We might as easily revive a 
 belief in knight-errantry, witchcraft, the mythologies 
 or fabulous traditions of the old Greek and Roman 
 states. The press, the free school, the ballot box, 
 and universal education " have already opened to 
 every view the palpable truths that the mass of man- 
 kind was not l)orn with saddles on their backs, nor a 
 favored few booted and spurred, ready to ride them 
 legitimately by the grace of God." It is a most un- 
 founded alarm, then, that these annually increasing 
 immigrations of foreigners into the United States 
 can essentially interfere with our national prosperity. 
 The majority bring with them the means of a com- 
 petent support. How could we get along without 
 them? Deprived of their aid, what would become 
 of our canals, railways, manufactories, rising towns 
 and cities, and public works in general, on which 
 depends our progress in civilization, wealth, freedom, 
 science, morals, and religion ? With the help of 
 foreigners this republic was founded ; by their help 
 it has been preserved and advanced to its present 
 state of glory and happiness. 
 
 The first Protestant church in New Orleans was 
 built about forty years ago, belonging to the Episcopal 
 denomination. The second was founded by my pred- 
 ecessor, the Rev. Sylvester Lamed, and was first 
 opened for public worship on the 4th day of July, 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP, liol 
 
 1819. On the lower floor there were one hundred 
 and eighteen pews. The galleries were spacious, 
 and capable of accommodating about four hundred 
 persons. Both sides of the galleries contained free 
 seats, which were always filled by strangers. On 
 this account, our place of worship was often called 
 the Strangers^ Churck. It was generally believed 
 that its pastor was a " setter forth of strange gods," 
 to use an expression of St. Paul. Hence those who 
 regarded him as a false teacher not unfrcquently 
 came to the Presbyterian meetings to listen to the 
 novelties of an heretical pulpit. Whatever may have 
 been the cause, our church was honored by tlie at- 
 tendance of the most respectable strangers during 
 the winter season. The pews were always taken by 
 residents of the city, and there were more applicants 
 than could be accommodated. It was a usual saying 
 among my orthodox friends, that the merchants and 
 planters who came to New Orleans during the healthy 
 months to transact business never left the city with- 
 out going to " the American theatre, the French 
 opera, and Parson Clapp''s church." The insinua- 
 tion is obvious. But notwithstanding the slander, 
 perhaps the friends of truth have cause to rejoice in 
 the greater facilities which were thus afforded for its 
 wider dissemination. Whenever and wherever I 
 have travelled, on this or the other side of the At- 
 lantic, I have constantly met with strangers whose 
 first words were, " We have seen you before ; we 
 have heard you preach in New Orleans." 
 
 I dined out in London on the second day after my 
 arrival. When I entered the drawing room, filled 
 
252 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 with a most brilliant circle, as soon as I crossed the 
 threshold, a lady ran to greet me, saying, " Though 
 I have never been introduced to you, I feel as if we 
 were old acquaintances, for I visited your church 
 several weeks in succession one winter, when so- 
 journing in New Orleans." She then mentioned 
 some of the subjects upon which I had preached, and 
 the anecdotes and arguments which were employed. 
 It affected me so deeply that I could scarcely refrain 
 from tears. She was hardly seated before another 
 lady claimed an acquaintance, on the same ground. 
 One winter, it was her good fortune, she said, to be a 
 regular attendant at our meetings in New Orleans. 
 
 In Liverpool, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Belfast, Dub- 
 lin, even Paris, and Geneva, in Switzerland, I was 
 made to feel as if I were at home, by those who rec- 
 ognized me at once, but had never seen me except 
 in the pulpit, or at a funeral. Merchants, and the 
 agents of large mercantile houses from various parts 
 of Europe, flock to New Orleans every winter. 
 They are, with scarcely an exception, intelligent and 
 liberal. Among them are some of the warmest 
 friends I have ever had. If I have spent my days 
 in advocating sentiments essentially and fatally erro- 
 neous, perhaps no minister living has done more hurt 
 then I have done. But if, as some believe, I have 
 espoused the true and right, it is a pleasing reflec- 
 tion, that my humble efforts have perhaps contrib- 
 uted to the advancement of virtue and knowledge in 
 matters of the deepest importance, both for time and 
 eternity. 
 
 Within the last twenty years, Protestant churches 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 253 
 
 have greatly multiplied in New Orleans. At the 
 present day, I believe they number twenty-five or 
 thirty. The Catholic churches have increased in an 
 equal ratio, so that Christianity has the same exter- 
 nal means of growth and prosperity in the Crescent 
 City as in New York or Boston. The greatest hin- 
 derance to the spread of the gospel in New Orleans 
 is the peculiar condition of its inhabitants. Nearly 
 half of these are what may be called a floating pop-, 
 ulation. They go there only for the honorable pur- 
 pose of accumulating property. No one of them, 
 hardly, looks upon New Orleans as his home. Of 
 course, all are anxious to gain a fortune as soon as 
 possible. What care they for New Orleans, provided 
 their respective personal schemes of profit and inde- 
 pendence can be achieved ? Hence the number is 
 comparatively smaller than in places where the pop- 
 ulation is stable, who feel a deep, abiding interest in 
 building up churches and other useful institutions. 
 Those who do favor such objects are singularly de- 
 voted and self-sacrificing. The society is fluctuating 
 and heterogeneous almost beyond a precedent. It 
 is constantly changing. In a very short time, the 
 settled pastor sees his pews emptied, and filled with 
 new occupants. He has hardly time to form tlicir 
 acquaintance, before they vanish, to be succeeded by 
 another set of strangers. The disadvantages neces- 
 sarily attendant on such a state of things are obvi- 
 ous. I do not mean to intimate that the people of 
 New Orleans are more immoral than city population 
 in general. We do not think they are more corrupt, 
 or depraved, or worldly, than those who live in Bos- 
 22 
 
254 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ton and its vicinity. It is not to be wondered at 
 that those who go south merely to buy, and sell, and 
 get gain, should say to the clergyman and his solici- 
 tations, " Go thy way for this time : when I have a 
 convenient season I will call for thee." Upon the 
 whole, New Orleans perhaps is rising as rapidly in 
 the scale of moral and religious improvement as 
 could be reasonably expected. 
 
REV. THEODOEE CLAPP. 255 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 STItlPTOMS OFTEN ACCOMPANYING THE LAST STAGES OF 
 THE YELLOW FEVER, ETC. 
 
 In tliG epidemic of 1829, a young man of very 
 superior character, and a member of our church, 
 fell a victim to the yellow fever. I was called to 
 visit him but a short time before he died. I entered 
 his chamber precisely at noon. It was a cool, lovely 
 day in the latter part of October. I found him 
 dressed and walking the room with a brisk, lively 
 step. To the inquiry, " How do you do, my friend ? " 
 he replied, " I never felt better in my life. I am 
 free from pain, and if my attendants would allow it, 
 I should immediately go into the streets, and take a 
 walk. But the doctor, who has just gone out, says 
 that if I have any unsettled business on hand, it 
 should be arranged without delay. I have sent for 
 you to help me." At that instant, other friends 
 came in. His will was made, signed, sealed, and 
 witnessed, in a few moments. The company then 
 retired, except the nurse and myself. I was asked 
 to read the Scriptures, and pray with him. After- 
 wards, he intrusted to me some messages for his 
 widowed mother and relatives, who lived in a distant 
 state. He then remarked, " It is possible I may be 
 near my end, but I think that the doctor has mis- 
 taken my case. Will you tell me honestly what you 
 think about it?" I did not undeceive him. He 
 
256 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 had made every possible preparation for his last exit, 
 and no harm could accrue from his being buoyed up 
 with the hope of a speedy recovery. 
 
 And I have sometimes known men apparently in 
 the same condition that he was, get well. Nothing 
 conduces more to promote the convalescence of a 
 yellow fever patient than good spirits. If he makes 
 up his mind that his case is a hopeless one, he will 
 most certainly die. I have sometimes seen persons 
 convalescent before they suspected what was the real 
 nature of their malady. In two or three days more, 
 they would have been out ; but a careless servant or 
 indiscreet visitor, contrary to the express orders of 
 the physician, happened to disclose the secret in his 
 hearing. He was alarmed by the intelligence, fan- 
 cied that he felt worse, and in spite of all our assur- 
 ances that he was out of danger, in tlie space of a 
 few hours sank rapidly into the arms of death. 
 
 " With thee, sweet Hope, resides the heavenly light 
 That pours remotest rapture on the sight ; 
 Thine is the charm of life's bewildered way, 
 That calls each slumbering passion into play." 
 
 In yellow fever, a strong, unwavering expectation 
 of a happy issue often accomplishes more than any 
 kind of medicine which could be administered. 
 
 In a certain epidemic, a young man of my ac- 
 quaintance had the yellow fever in the severest form. 
 As he was near me, and an intimate friend, I became 
 one of his nurses. He had not the slightest idea of 
 dying, and often said, " Don't be alarmed ; Yellow 
 Jack cannot kill me." He indulged in facetious 
 remarks, to keep up our spirits, for he saw that we 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 257 
 
 ■were anxious and alarmed. On the third day, about 
 noon, he was seized with the black vomit. The doc- 
 tor came in, loolced at him a moment, and then tak- 
 ing me one side, observed, " It is all over with him ; 
 he will die before sundown ; I shall give no further 
 prescriptions ; do with him now whatever you 
 please." There was an old French nurse in the 
 room, who had spent her days in taking care of the 
 sick, and was familiar with the Creole mode of treat- 
 ing the yellow fever. She exclaimed, " If you will 
 allow me, I think I can cure this gentleman." We 
 of course consented that she should make the trial. 
 By this time, the respiration of our friend was get- 
 ting very difficult, and his limbs were cold. She 
 called for ptisans, spirits, warm water, and various 
 other remedies, intended for external application 
 only, whose nature I do not remember. We com- 
 menced rubbing his body all over, and using every 
 possible means to excite perspiration. In less than 
 two hours, he began to grow warm ; the vomito 
 ceased ; his breathing became easier ; he perspired 
 freely, and slept soundly the latter part of the night. 
 In the morning, the doctor stopped at the door in his 
 gig, to ask what hour the patient had died. To his 
 great astonishment, he learned the favorable results 
 of our experiment. In a few days after, the man 
 entered his store, well. He is still living, and enjoys 
 good health. 
 
 In the same epidemic, I visited a young married 
 
 gentleman, not so sick as the one just mentioned, and 
 
 perfectly confident that he should recover. On the 
 
 third day, when the fever had reached its crisis, his 
 
 22* 
 
258 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 wife became exceedingly alarmed. Beckoning me 
 into an adjoining room, she said, " I am afraid my 
 luisband will die. He has never made a will. If lie 
 leaves us without making one, myself and children 
 may be left penniless. I wish you would broach the 
 matter to him." I replied, " Your husband is full 
 of hope ; he has no thoughts of dying ; and if you 
 will let him remain undisturbed till sundown, his 
 danger will be passed." However, she refused to 
 follow my advice, and declared that if I declined 
 acceding to her wishes, she should mention the sub- 
 ject to him herself. I was then young, timid, and 
 inexperienced, and consented to comply with her 
 request. I approached the subject as delicately as 
 possible, and remarked to the gentleman that al- 
 though he was doing well, and in all probability 
 would be abroad in a few days, yet to guard against 
 contingencies, it might be expedient to give some 
 directions as to his temporal affairs. " Your lady 
 would like to have you make your will this morn- 
 ing." " Make a will ! " he exclaimed, with a stare 
 of astonishment ; " is it possible that I am in any 
 danger of dying ? " He became exceedingly agitat- 
 ed in a moment, lost his hopes and courage, and in 
 three hours was a corpse. In my judgment, if ho 
 had been let alone, he would have gone through the 
 ordeal safely. From that day to the present, I have 
 sought by all lawful means to inspire the sick with 
 the most pleasing hopes, and never to intimate any 
 thing which may tend to produce alarm, misgiving, 
 or despair. 
 
 To return from this digression. I sat with the 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 239 
 
 young gentleman referred to on the first page of this 
 chapter three quarters of an hour. All this time 
 he was either walking or sitting, and engaged in 
 cheerful and animated conversation. Suddenly, lay- 
 ing his hand upon his heart, he exclaimed, " I feel 
 strangely ; I feel as if I should faint ; I must lie 
 down." I immediately rose, and helped him to his 
 bed. In one moment after his head was laid upon 
 the pillow, a stream of warm, fresh, healthy-looking 
 blood gushed forth from his mouth, covering his ap- 
 parel, bosom, and bed clothes, as if he had been 
 stabbed at the heart with a dirk. After that issue 
 of blood he breathed not again. I felt of his heart, 
 and it was still beating, and continued to pulsate for 
 some moments after respiration had ceased. His 
 body was quite as warm as my OAvn. I expected 
 with the utmost confidence that life would return ; 
 but the next morning he was buried. All these 
 things happened in the space of one hour — between 
 noon and one o'clock P. ^l. 
 
 This young man was very intelligent, and twenty 
 minutes before he expired, conversed with more bril- 
 liancy than I had ever heard him before, wlien in the 
 plenitude of health.. He repeated poetry, and made 
 profound philosophical remarks on life, death, and 
 immortality. Among other things, he observed that 
 nothing written by man ever impressed him more 
 deeply than the following lines of Gray's Elegy : — 
 
 " For who, to dumb Forgetfulness a prey, 
 
 This pleasing, anxious being e'er resigned, 
 Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, 
 Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind ? 
 
260 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 " On some fond breast the parting soul relies ; 
 Some pious drops the closing eye requires ; 
 E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries ; 
 E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires." 
 
 He asked me a curious question but a few mo- 
 ments before he lay down to die. It was this: 
 " Suppose," said he, " that I was placed in some ves- 
 sel composed of the densest and hardest materials, 
 and hermetically sealed, like the glass receivers used 
 in chemical laboratories ; would my disembodied soul 
 find any difficulty in permeating this exterior cov- 
 ering ? I conclude," he added, " that my spirit, if 
 freed from mortal encumbrances, could, in an instant, 
 pass directly through the globe, and pay a visit to 
 our antipodean brethren, and perhaps make a jour- 
 ney to Orion, Pleiades, or Arcturus, in less time 
 than it now takes to walk down to a store on Char- 
 tres Street." In this voluble and imaginative style, 
 like a clairvoyant or mesmerized person, he poured 
 forth words with the rapidity of a torrent, till the 
 moment of dissolution. His whole being, both intel- 
 lectual and physical, seemed to be preternaturally 
 and powerfully excited. 
 
 " In cases of yellow fever," says Dr. Dowler, one 
 of the most eminent physicians in New Orleans, " at 
 the moment of death, the circulation of the blood is 
 sometimes more active than it ever was in the zenith 
 of life and health. In one instance, a thermometer 
 was placed in the armpit of a corpse at the last expira- 
 tion, and remained tliere fifty-five minutes. The first 
 five minutes gave 105° ; the next five minutes, 10G|° ; 
 the next, 108° ; ten minutes more, 108° ; ten min- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 261 
 
 iites, 108° ; ten minutes, 108° ; and the last ten min- 
 utes, 108|°. The veins were greatly distended. A 
 ligature was placed on the arm ; a vein was opened ; 
 about two ounces of blood jetted out, after which a 
 trickling took place for a considerable time, amount- 
 ing to twelve ounces. The circulation was found to 
 be very rapid about tlie head. The left jugular was 
 opened, as for ordinary blood-letting, but no bandage 
 or pressure was used, the head being raised, so that 
 the orifice was on a level with the breast bone. The 
 blood jetted out completely, without wetting the 
 skin, forming an arch, the diameter of which con- 
 tinued to extend for five minutes ; at tlie end of 
 eight minutes, the arch had contracted, owing, ap- 
 parently, to small clots on the margins of the orifice, 
 and tlie skin having once become wet, the blood, 
 without being materially diminished, ran down the 
 neclv, jetting occasionally on removing clots from the 
 orifice. 
 
 " For about one hour, the flow was copious, Init at 
 the end of that time, was diminishing rapidly. I 
 caught nearly tliree pounds at first ; this, with what 
 ran down the neck after the jetting ceased, I estimated 
 to amount to five pounds, or eighty ounces, from the 
 jugular alone. As the blood-letting progressed, the 
 discoloration of the skin of the face diminished. 
 There was, as already mentioned, no bandage or 
 pressure. It would be impossible, in tliis way, to 
 bleed a living man half as much, as collapse of the 
 vein, clots, fainting, <tc., would prevent it. Hence 
 the circulation in the veins was probably more active 
 and persistent than in health. Let it be supposed 
 
262 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 that the upper or distal end of the jugular contained 
 an ounce, when opened ; this being discharged, no 
 more could replace it, only by a circulatory force. 
 But here the tube is filled eighty times in a few 
 minutes. 
 
 " The heat of the patient in the early stages of 
 the yellow fever is usually very great, but it falls off 
 towards the close of the disease, both in the conva- 
 lescent and dying stages ; but among the dead, in 
 m,any cases, it rises higher than in life, from a quar- 
 ter of an hour to six or seven hours after death, 
 rising sometimes to one hundred and thirteen de- 
 grees, and falling in the very same and in different 
 regions both internally and externally." 
 
 The cases just enumerated arc phenomena not, 
 indeed, ordinarily witnessed in yellow fever epidem- 
 ics. In this as in all the works of God, amidst a 
 general uniformity, individual instances are greatly 
 diversified. Is the yellow fever one of God's dispen- 
 sations ? Undoubtedly. It is a deduction of reason, 
 — may I not say of common sense ? — that there is but 
 one efficient Cause of all the phenomena, both phys- 
 ical and moral, which take place in our world. The 
 Bible affirms repeatedly, and in the strongest terms, 
 that no evil can befall man without the knowledge, 
 permission, and appointment of our heavenly Father. 
 God does not love men less because they are writh- 
 ing in pain, and " stretched in Disease's shapes ab- 
 horred." These calamities are just as necessary for 
 man's development and highest good as the charms 
 and advantages of ease, health, youth, bloom, and 
 beauty. 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 263 
 
 111 New Orleans, the instances have been numer- 
 ous of patients rising from their beds, putting on 
 their apparel, and engaging in conversation about 
 their business, and plans for the future, but a few 
 hours, or even only a few minutes, before death. 
 Dr. Cartwright, in his account of the epidemic yel- 
 low fever which occurred at Natchez, in 1823, says 
 that " in the last stage, in which fever, in the etymo- 
 logical sense of the term, disappeared, and all severe 
 pain with it, the patient, before debilitated, often 
 regained his strength so as to be able to walk about 
 the room, and converse cheerfully with his friends. 
 When there was no evident cause for this apparent 
 recuperation, it invariably portended a fatal ter- 
 mination. 
 
 " A shoemaker, the day before death, got out of 
 bed, went to work, and nearly finished making a 
 shoe." He also says that " in the hospital, four or 
 five patients, in the last stage of the disease, ac- 
 quired great strength, left their beds, got brooms 
 and the like, and after parading through the rooms 
 for a time, died almost instantaneously." A man 
 has been known to arise, shave, make his toilet with 
 unusual care, sit down and write a letter to his dis- 
 tant relatives, informing them of his convalescence. 
 It was folded, sealed, put into the hands of a ser- 
 vant to be conveyed to the post office, and before he 
 could return to his master he had expired. In an- 
 other instance a man arose, dressed himself, and 
 walked the streets the length of several squares, and 
 fell lifeless on the banquette. Monsieur Robin, in 
 his Travels in Louisiana, mentions the case of a 
 
264 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 physician attacked with yellow fever, who, iincou- 
 scioiis of any sickness, continued to attend his pa- 
 tients until just before his death. When interrogated, 
 he declared that he was in good health. Others 
 died reading, apparently in the greatest joy, and 
 sometimes in raptures of delight. A young man 
 indited a beautiful epistle to his betrothed as the 
 world was receding forever from his view. Going 
 to see a sick man one morning, I found him sitting 
 at a small table, with his usual costume on, and 
 reading a newspaper. He w^as in the greatest flow 
 of spirits, full of wit, laughter, merriment, and jest- 
 ing. I was requested to take a chair directly oppo- 
 site to him, and the table was so narrow tliat our 
 faces almost touched each other. He was very fond 
 of talking on phrenological subjects. There was an 
 acquaintance, whom he did not prize very highly, 
 who had just before left the room. He was describ- 
 ing his craniology in terms so irresistibly facetious 
 that we both burst into a peal of laughter, when, in an 
 instant, — in the twinkling of an eye, — he dropped 
 his head upon his arms, which were laid upon the 
 table before him, and breathed not again. We im- 
 mediately placed him upon the bed, to see if he 
 could not be resuscitated. But life had fled to re- 
 turn no more. 
 
REV. THEODOEE CLAPP. 265 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ON THE CONNECTION BETWEEN MY RELIGIOUS TEACHINGS 
 AND THE PREVAILING CHARACTER OF THE PECULIAR 
 EXPERIENCES THROUGH WHICH I HAVE PASSED IN NEW 
 ORLEANS. 
 
 Fenelon, ill a work which ho wrote on preaching 
 and the composition of sermons, says that " no book 
 is more important to a clergyman than the volume 
 of human life. He should read it by day, and medi- 
 tate thereon by night. Such a study will enable 
 him to accommodate directions and exhortations to 
 persons of all ages, conditions, and circumstances. 
 And whenever a preacher advances what touches a 
 man's character, or is applicable to his peculiar state 
 and deficiencies, he is sure of being heard. To 
 discover a person to himself, in a light in which he 
 never saw his portrait before, produces a wonderful 
 effect." 
 
 Since my settlement in New Orleans, I have tried 
 to adopt the platform recommended by this venera- 
 ble prelate of the Roman Catholic church. Setting 
 aside the Bible, I have learned more about religion 
 from reading the phenomena of the human heart 
 and human life, than could be acquired from all the 
 uninspired books in the world. The topics to which 
 I allude in this remark are the following : What is 
 man ? Why have we been created capable even of 
 angelic virtue, in a world where unavoidable circum- 
 23 
 
266 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 stances render us so vile and grovelling, so frail, un- 
 wise, and unworthy ? Whence these longings for 
 exquisite, uninterrupted, ever-increasing happiness, 
 where existence is made up of such adverse fates, 
 hardships, and sufferings ? We feel desires, aspira- 
 tions, that soar upwards to the illimitable heavens, 
 yet, in fact, are as destitute as the worm under our 
 feet. Whence these strange extremes of joy and 
 sorrow, light and darkness, good and evil, earth and 
 heaven, which are mingled in our nature and allot- 
 ments ? These questions weigh heavily upon every 
 reflecting mind. 
 
 With the exception of man, we see all things 
 around and above us moving on in obedience to laws, 
 wise, orderly, and harmonious. How magnificent is 
 yon firmament ! How bright and blessed are the 
 beams of the sun ! Mountains, hills, plains, valleys, 
 and lakes arc formed into scenes of indescribable 
 loveliness, as if earth was intended to be a paradise. 
 The groves are full of melody. Happy beings range 
 every walk and department of the brute creation ; 
 but man groans under the crushing burdens of ex- 
 istence. He struggles and wears himself out in 
 efforts to obtain that food, and other accommoda- 
 tions, which the brute enjoys in absolute exemption 
 from labor and anxiety. Finally, at an unexpected 
 moment, death steps in to close this short, eventful 
 career. The curtain falls ; the actor takes his final 
 exit for regions hidden from mortal sight by clouds 
 and shadows utterly impervious to the light of 
 human reason. 
 
 How inexplicable do these things appear ! I have 
 
REV, THEODORE CLAPP. 267 
 
 been surrounded with honest and inquiring sceptics. 
 Often have they addressed mo thus : " Why were 
 we not made like the brutes, to run a constant round 
 of gratification only ? Why were we not so created 
 as to be capable of accomplishing all the purposes 
 of our existence, and attaining the highest happi- 
 ness, by the indulgences merely of our natural 
 desires and appetites ? How different is our con- 
 dition from this ! At every step we encounter vari- 
 ous forms of opposition. Obstacles and obstructions 
 come from without and from within. Every day we 
 feel the pressure of wants which earth cannot supply ; 
 every week, in spite of ourselves, is more or less a 
 week of trials, sorrow, temptation, and bereavement. 
 Now, reason looks upon this state of things, not with 
 wonder only, but also witli utter amazement. Rea- 
 son inquires. If God is good, why is not man a larger 
 recipient of his goodness ? Why do not conscience 
 and pleasure, desire and duty, always speak the 
 same language ? Why are they ever clashing, oppo- 
 site, and contradictory, the one clamorously de- 
 manding what the other forbids ? Why have not 
 things on earth been so arranged that our state liere 
 might correspond with the picture suggested by these 
 lines of the poet : — 
 
 ' To virtue in the paths of pleasure trod, 
 And owned a Father when they o^viied a God ; 
 No ill could fear in Ilim, but understood 
 A sovereign being, but a sovereign good ' ? 
 
 Yet in the sublime depths of Nature above, around, 
 beneath, and within us, wo see no traces of a 
 
268 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 Father's hand. As if in contempt of our weakness 
 and misery, she rolls on in her course — dark, stern, 
 silent, resistless, and appalling as the grave." 
 
 To such objections I have usually replied in the 
 following terms : It is obvious that if we had notli- 
 ing to guide us but animal appetites and passions, 
 we could not occupy the rank of moral and account- 
 able beings. We should in that case, like the bird, 
 reptile, or fish, belong to the brute creation merely. 
 What, then, would become of glory, wisdom and 
 worth, indomitable energy and resolution, the tram- 
 pling upon the mean and base, the triumphing over 
 the vile — all those beauties and sublimities of virtue 
 which shed eternal lustre on the character and his- 
 tory of man, that proclaim his alliance to the Divin- 
 ity, and the everlasting expansion of his destiny ? 
 If our passions were not so constituted as to rebel 
 often against our sense of the true, good, and proper, 
 we should be as incapable of performing noble actions 
 as the oak of the forest or a buffalo on the prairies. 
 
 I am compelled, then, to regard the world in wliich 
 we are placed as perfectly adapted to our wants and 
 the sublime purposes of our creation. There is no 
 other spot in the universe where we could be as well 
 off for the time being as we are here. God has 
 placed us in this school of difficulties for benevolent 
 purposes only, that by resisting, struggling against, 
 and overcoming them, we might develop our powers, 
 rise to a more intimate union with himself, and form 
 the habits required for our exaltation and blessed- 
 ness, as we shall travel onward upon the line of an 
 existence that can never terminate. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 2G9 
 
 The peculiar life which I was called to pass through 
 in New Orleans enforced upon me the conclusion of 
 Scripture that there is no absolute, eternal evil in 
 the boundless universe of God. Nothing that we 
 call evil is final. It is only the necessary means of 
 a greater and ever-expanding good. 
 
 " Presumptuous man, wonldst thou the reason find 
 "Why made so weak, so little, and so blind ? 
 First, if thou canst, the harder reason guess, 
 Why made no weaker, blinder, and no less ; 
 Ask of thy mother earth why oaks are made 
 Taller and stronger than the weeds they shade ; 
 Or ask of yonder argent fields above 
 Why Jove's satellites arc less than Jove; 
 Say not, then, man's imperfect, Heaven in fault ; 
 Say, rather, man's as perfect as he ought. 
 His knowledge measured to his state and place, 
 His time a moment, and a point his space." 
 
 Again, by living in New Orleans I have been deeply 
 impressed with the vanity of human ambition, and 
 the worthlessness of what men usually most covet — 
 the possession of wealth. Cases of the following 
 description have been constantly passing before my 
 eyes, like the successive pictures of a panorama. A 
 young man settles in New Orleans. He is noble and 
 highly gifted, the delight and hope of his friends, 
 relatives, and acquaintances. After the ordeal of 
 the yellow fever, he becomes established in a profita- 
 ble course of business. With a most commendable 
 perseverance he carries forward his various enter- 
 prises, till he believes himself independently rich. 
 Happening to be in the counting room of one of 
 these fortunate persons, on a certain morning in the 
 month of November, he spoke to me thus : — 
 23 * 
 
270 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 " I pity you, when I think of the hard, cheerless, 
 and unprofitable labors of your professional life. 
 You are just emerging from the toils and horrors of 
 another epidemic. Poor you are to-day, and proba- 
 bly always will be. Nor is your destitution to be 
 regarded in any other light than a misfortune beyond 
 your control. The sufferings which you are com- 
 pelled to relieve will always keep your purse empty. 
 It will be impossible for you, as long as you live 
 here, to lay up any thing against sickness or old age. 
 My own fortune I consider as a fixed fact. This 
 coming winter I intend to wind up my affairs, and 
 retire to some healthy part of the world, to enjoy 
 the remainder of my days in leisure, in the tran- 
 quil pursuits of an independent country life. What 
 is the use of clerical labors in such a place as this, 
 where Mammon and Bacchus reign supreme ? If 
 you were a lawyer, merchant, or politician, you 
 might succeed here. And if you are determined to 
 pursue your present vocation, would it not be better 
 to repair to a more propitious latitude — to Boston, 
 or some northern city, where the institutions of 
 religion are settled, and where your labors and tal- 
 ents would be better understood and appreciated ? " 
 
 This advice emanated from a noble and sincere 
 mind, but it was a mind which had never been lift- 
 ed above the low plane of a merely physical and 
 sensual world. At that time I was upon the vesti- 
 bule of my clerical career, young, and inexperienced 
 as to the vicissitudes of a temporal life. Walking 
 from this interview to my study, the reflection was 
 deeply impressed on my heart that the counsel of 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 271 
 
 my friend was deserving of serious consideration. 
 It might be that he was right. It might be that I 
 was making a foolish and visionary sacrifice, by 
 occupying sucli a forbidding and unpromising field 
 of labor as New Orleans. The subject weighed 
 heavily on my mind. I never for a moment har- 
 bored the idea of engaging in any secular profession. 
 But the thought occurred to me that it would per- 
 haps be expedient to accept the invitation of my 
 friend to accompany him the next summer on a tour 
 through the Northern and Western States, with a 
 view, among other things, of selecting a more eligi- 
 ble theatre for my professional pursuits. 
 
 Here the matter rested for a while. In tlie in- 
 scrutable scheme of divine Providence, this person 
 was not permitted to realize the beautiful plan which 
 he had marked out for future consummation. It 
 was otherwise decreed in the counsels of Heaven. 
 Within a few weeks after the conversation just men- 
 tioned, and before he had enjoyed an opportunity to 
 call in his means, and invest them in permanent 
 securities, a great, sudden, and most unexpected 
 revidsion in the commercial world swept over our 
 city. His darling fortune, which ho had looked upon 
 to be as stable as the everlasting hills, was swallowed 
 up forever. All his possessions and glories vanished 
 in a day. He never recovered from the blow. A 
 few years afterwards I saw him laid in the grave, a 
 bankrupt not only as to property, but also in regard 
 to moral worth and spiritual excellence. 
 
 This and similar incidents put an utter end to all 
 thoughts of taking any steps to better my outward 
 
272 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 circumstances in life. I felt the surpassing wisdom 
 of those words of the Psalmist, " Yerily, every man 
 in his firmest state is but a vapor. Surely every 
 man walketh as a shadow. Surely he disquieteth 
 himself in vain. He heapeth up treasures, and know- 
 eth not who will enjoy them." The heathen poet 
 Horace somewhere says, " What is less durable than 
 flowers in spring ? What is more changeable than 
 the moon ? Yet these are the best images of hu- 
 man life. Why, then, should creatures, by nature 
 formed to mortality, fatigue themselves with endless 
 and uncertain projects ? " The anecdote to which I 
 have adverted presents a point of instruction, al- 
 though not, indeed, novel, nor extraordinary ; yet 
 I look back upon it as an epoch in my moral history, 
 and as such, it is, perhaps, deserving a place in 
 these very humble records. I could multiply in- 
 stances of the kind, in my subsequent experiences, 
 whose recital would fill volumes. 
 
 About that time my mind was first opened to real- 
 ize the truth and beauty of the following description, 
 which, though familiar to me from a child, I had 
 never before appreciated : — 
 
 " Know then this truth, (enough for man to know,) 
 Virtue alone is happiness below ; 
 The only point where human bliss stands still, 
 And tastes the good, unmingled with the ill ; 
 Where only merit constant pay receives. 
 Is blessed in what it takes and what it gives ; 
 The joy unequalled, if its end is gain, 
 And if it lose, attended with no pain ; 
 Without satiety, though e'er so blessed, 
 And but more relished as the more distressed ; 
 The broadest mirth unfeeling folly wears 
 Less pleasing far than virtue's very tears; 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 273 
 
 Good, from each object, from each place acquired, 
 Forever exercised, yet never tired ; 
 Never elated while one man's oppressed, 
 Never dejected while another's blessed ; 
 And where no wants, no wishes can remain, 
 Since but to wish more virtue is to gain." 
 
 This is a poetic paraphrase of those memorable 
 ■words of Scripture, " Great peace have they who 
 love thj law. They have a happiness which the 
 world can neither give nor destroy." For years I 
 have been in the habit of repeating this quotation, 
 many times in a day — I might almost say continu- 
 ally. Its beauties have pervaded my soul, and dic- 
 tated the predominant thoughts, feelings, and actions 
 of my life. They have afforded me not only a purer 
 but an infinitely higher degree of happiness than I 
 could have derived from all the merely temporal pos- 
 sessions and glories of earth. That hour I became 
 richer than gold could make mo, when God was 
 pleased to reveal to my heart the sublime sentiment, 
 that human happiness does not consist in the pleas- 
 ures of a physical and sensvial world, in whatever 
 profusion or variety they be enjoyed. 
 
 Jesus Christ began his first discourse by declaring 
 to his hearers that it was not in wealth, fame, office, 
 power, or pleasure, to confer the bliss they sighed 
 for. Blessed, he said, are they only who are enam- 
 oured of the charms of wisdom, integrity, and moral 
 excellence ; who admire a gentle, meek, forgiving, 
 pure, social, loving spirit ; who have the livinp; God 
 for their help, and whose only hope is in his infinite 
 life, light, truth, love, wisdom, power, and benefi- 
 cence. 
 
274 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Of the whole number of young men who have 
 immigrated to New Orleans since my first acquaint- 
 ance with that place, very few have succeeded in 
 acquiring an independence. One of the fortunate 
 few retired to his native place, and built a charming 
 villa, where he and his family might be happy for 
 the rest of their days. But in one year after their 
 removal, the father, mother, and two children were 
 laid in their graves, and left their wealth to others. 
 Now, this gentleman was wise in accumulating prop- 
 erty by all the honorable means in his power. I 
 think, too, that he was wise in leaving New Orleans 
 when he did, and fixing his residence in a more salu- 
 brious and beautiful place. But he was not wise in 
 abjuring religion, and going upon the ground that 
 his happiness depended upon outward condition and 
 circumstances only. There is no delusion by which 
 mankind are greater sufferers than this. 
 
 It is hard for them to believe that virtue and hap- 
 piness are coincident. The doctrine of the New 
 Testament is that all living, whether high or low, 
 learned or ignorant, rich or poor, would be happy 
 to-day, if they wore sincerely actuated by the princi- 
 ples of the gospel. It is hard to admit this truth. 
 "We struggle against it to the last. Tell a young 
 man that he may live and die poor, and yet be a no- 
 ble being, obtain the highest honors of life, and enjoy 
 its purest pleasures, your words will sound to him 
 like the very essence of folly and fanaticism. He 
 thinks that his mission in this world is to get riches, 
 to amass gold, to scrape together the dust of earth, 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 275 
 
 and that without these he will sink into utter wretch- 
 edness and insignificance. 
 
 Imagine the external condition of mankind to be 
 represented by a scale resembling that of a ther- 
 mometer. Place a rude, illiterate, inexperienced, 
 wicked young man, say of the age of twenty, at the 
 lowest degree in this scale. Now, suppose that, 
 without the slightest intellectual or moral improve- 
 ment, he were to ascend from one stage to an- 
 other of success, till he became invested with the 
 splendors and advantages of a millionnaire. During 
 all this progression of outward good, he would suffer 
 a regular diminution of enjoyment, and in his final 
 state would be more wretched than he was at the 
 beginning. This may seem incredible to some, 
 but I feel certain of its truth, because in several in- 
 stances I have witnessed the identical experiment, 
 and carefully noted the result. 
 
 I once heard a merchant, now in his grave, who 
 began life with nothing, and had acquired a large 
 estate, confess that no successes which attended 
 him in the accumulation of property had added a 
 particle to his happiness. " So far as circumstances 
 of fortune are concerned," he remarked, " I was far 
 happier when a poor boy fifteen years old, in a coun- 
 try store, and earning a few dollars only per month, 
 than I have been at any subsequent period of my 
 life." Yet this man had never failed in his business, 
 had never met with any considerable reverses of for- 
 tune. The course of his affairs had been remarka- 
 bly smooth and prosperous. At the same time ho 
 was surrounded with the endearments of a refined, 
 
276 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 happy family, and not a member of his domestic 
 circle had ever died. 
 
 This gentleman took a pew in our church. He 
 had occupied it but one Sunday previous to the visit, 
 during wliich the conversation just referred to took 
 place. Monday morning I called on him, and was 
 conducted into a private apartment, a recess to his 
 counting room. Alone and undisturbed we had a 
 long conversation on the subject of religion. He 
 led off by saying that " yesterday was the first time 
 he had ever attended church in New Orleans, and 
 that he had never in his life before had any conver- 
 sation with a clergyman on religious matters." It 
 was evident that he had read and thought much. 
 But from a youth ho had cherished the idea that 
 Christianity was but a delusion, and that death was 
 an eternal sleep. When I asked why he came to 
 hear me preach, he replied " that Judge C. had told 
 him that our pulpit advocated some new views of 
 the Bible and a future state, which he thought would 
 be interesting to me." Then he made the remark 
 already quoted, that he had not found happiness in 
 temporal prosperity. " Can you explain," said he, 
 " the reasons of my failure ? " 
 
 I answered him by making a quotation which 
 seemed to me relevant. In my efforts to enlighten 
 and convince honest inquirers after truth, it has long 
 been my habit to use, as far as possible, the argu- 
 ments and words of distinguished writers in prefer- 
 ence to my own suggestions. In this manner I have 
 given to the ideas which I wished to communicate 
 the power and authority of a great name, that to 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 277 
 
 many minds is quite irresistible. I said Dr. Palcy 
 somewhere remarks, " It is a well-established fact in 
 the science of human happiness, that no plenitude 
 of outward gratifications can make their possessors 
 happy, unless he have something in reserve, some- 
 thing to look forward to, and hope for, beyond the 
 the grave. The merely worldly man feels himself 
 confined ; he sees the limits on every side, there is 
 no room for an adequate expansion of his soul. The 
 human mind is so organized that it can never bo 
 filled, sufficiently interested by the realities of to- 
 day. It is constantly looking beyond the scenes of 
 the present tense, to find refreshment and support in 
 the anticipated glories of some distant event or at- 
 tainment. Condition, external circumstances, have 
 so little connection with our true welfare as to ren- 
 der it probable that the means of happiness are 
 equally distributed among mankind, and that in this 
 respect one person has no advantage over another. 
 Throughout society, every external blessing that one 
 possesses, not enjoyed by his neighbor, has some off- 
 set or counterbalancing drawback, every peculiar 
 evil to which he is subjected some peculiar compen- 
 sation." 
 
 He replied, " Dr. Palcy was a great man, but I 
 cannot receive, even on his authority, what seems 
 unreasonable, repugnant to common sense. That 
 poor mechanic, whom you see there laying brick, 
 is obliged to work hard every day to support him- 
 self and family. Do you intend to say that his 
 means of felicity, so far as external matters are con- 
 cerned, are equal to those which I possess ? Does 
 24 
 
278 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 not my fortune enable me to taste of a multitude 
 of enjoyments absolutely inaccessible to this work- 
 
 man 
 
 ? " 
 
 I replied, " You may not estimate correctly the 
 connection between mere wealth and inward peace. 
 What do you actually gain by your superior abun- 
 dance ? Can it purchase for you mental acqui- 
 sitions — the joys, hopes, treasures of wisdom, 
 knowledge, and piety ? Is there any golden key 
 wherewith one can unlock the gates of paradise ? 
 Can silver buy exemption from weakness, sin, error, 
 pain, disease, bereavement, death, or any other evil ? 
 0, how little can it add to our real satisfaction ! Ju- 
 venal, a heathen poet, says, ' In your prayers do not 
 ask the gods for silver, gold, houses, lands, fame, 
 power, and other gifts of an outward fortune, but 
 rather beseech them to bestow on you the blessings 
 of good sense, a generous heart, moral excellence, a 
 pure and virtuous life.' These constitute the only 
 source of substantial happiness. And the means of 
 enjoying these, like the light and air, are universally 
 diffused, 
 
 " I repeat it, that poor operative has essentially 
 the same means of satisfaction which you enjoy. He 
 has the same body, with its wondrous mechanism, 
 and power of action and enjoyment ; the same at- 
 tributes of mind — reason, conscience, love, joy, hope, 
 and immortal aspirations ; the same access to the 
 pleasures which are derived from the pursuits of 
 business, society, books, the intercourse of friend- 
 ship, and the domestic circle. He has the same sun, 
 air, earth, water, food, nightly repose. He has the 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 279 
 
 same Bible, the same God, the same Saviour, and 
 the same prospect of final, ever-progressive bliss in 
 the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 " Contrasted with these sublime possessions, how 
 utterly insignificant are those accidents which flatter 
 pride and vanity ! That man may, this instant, as 
 he is adjusting that brick, cherish a single thought 
 which, on the score of happiness, is worth more than 
 all your perishable treasures." 
 
 Not long after the conversation above narrated, 
 this gentleman, who had become a regular attendant 
 on our preaching, was called to taste the bitter cup 
 of grief. Two of his children died, not far from the 
 same time ; then his wife expired, very sxiddenly. 
 His own health soon failed, and he was numbered 
 witli the dead. In the last conversation which I had 
 with him, he said, " I no longer doubt the reality of 
 a future state of existence. Could I have been so 
 made as to remember and love my wife and children 
 after their decease, if we were destined never to 
 meet again ? It seems to me impossible. In tliat 
 case, I am deceived, trifled with, and cheated, by the 
 inevitable laws and operations of my own mind. 
 Besides, if there be no future state, human life is 
 not worth having. We exist here only to be broken 
 with toil and years ; to be racked with pain ; to be 
 wasted with sickness ; to be desolated witli one surge 
 of sorrow and disappointment after another, till we 
 sink, to be seen no more on earth. If I thought 
 that this was the last of us, I should be an atheist." 
 He died a firm believer in God, revelation, virtue, 
 and immortality. 
 
280 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Is there a greater delusion among men than the 
 false estimate, which is almost universal, concerning 
 the external advantages of life, as a means of happi- 
 ness ? Cowper somewhere says, " I have no doubt, 
 if we saw the whole truth, we should behold more 
 of divine love in what is called the evil, than the 
 good, of human existence, and should rather encoun- 
 ter every day the greatest difficulties and sufferings, 
 than to float smoothly and quietly down the current 
 of a being, calm and untroubled, but self-regarding 
 only." 
 
 My experiences have taught me another lesson — 
 that, in every instance, persons are happy just in pro- 
 portion as they are earnest, self-sacrificing, and un- 
 wearied in endeavoring to discharge the offices of 
 mercy. Cold, narrow, unsympathizing, self-indul- 
 gent people are always miserable. In the epidemic 
 of 1853, a wealthy family of my acquaintance left 
 New Orleans before the sickly season set in, to spend 
 the summer in travelling. They crossed the At- 
 lantic to gaze upon the wonders of the old world — 
 its scenery, its palaces, parks, and galleries of art. 
 It was wise and commendable in them, no doubt, to 
 employ their time and means in this way. I allude 
 to the fact simply for tlie purpose of illustration. 
 
 Near my residence was another family, in mod- 
 erate circumstances, who never went out of the city 
 during that awful visitation. They spent the sum- 
 mer in the labors of philanthropy, visiting the poor 
 and sick, devoting their days and nights to the re- 
 lief of destitute and deserted strangers, for several 
 months in succession. Now, if these people were 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 281 
 
 animated by the beautiful sentiments of love, by- 
 sympathy, heroism, and the soul-exalting spirit of 
 self-sacrifice, — to say nothing of duty, — were they 
 not happier in performing those noble works of phi- 
 lanthropy than their neighbors, who passed the same 
 time in journeying through foreign lands ? I an- 
 swer this question affirmatively ; for true happiness 
 comes not from the perishable glories of earth, from 
 luxury, the accumulation of wealth, from case, van- 
 ity, or pride, but from conflicts with and triumph 
 over selfish desires, the subjugation of dishonorable 
 appetites and passions, the devotion of our lives, 
 and all our resources, in the service of God and hu- 
 manity. 
 
 Happy is he who feels the nobility of a humble 
 and benevolent spirit. We read that Jesus Christ 
 lived to deny and sacrifice himself for the salvation 
 of a world. A child knows that " for the joy tliat 
 was set before him, he endured the agonies of the 
 cross." He tells us that we must follow his example, 
 tread in his footsteps, and daily take up the cross. 
 This is, of course, figurative language. It means 
 that we must be ready at all times to sacrifice our 
 feelings, taste, convenience, and emolument to pro- 
 mote the well-being of those around us. We are 
 bound to goodness by the laws of an everlasting ne- 
 cessity. He who feels not the impulses of Christian 
 love, though in possession of the amplest means, 
 excludes himself even from temporal enjoyment. 
 He can derive no real bliss from heaven above or 
 earth beneath — from nature, business, amusements, 
 art, society, science, or literature. 
 24* 
 
282 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 There is an ordinance appointed by heaven for the 
 government of the planets, sun, moon, and stars. 
 Fire, earth, sea, air, times and seasons, trees and 
 animals, are in harmony with the laws prescribed for 
 them by the Creator. Now, God has so fashioned 
 and attuned our intellectual and moral faculties, 
 that as the thrusting of the hand into a flame of fire 
 awakens acute pain, so a merely self-indulgent life 
 narrows, darkens, and agonizes the soul, and by a 
 law as fixed as that which carries the heavenly bod- 
 ies through the fields of space. 
 
 If, then, we thoroughly understood the soul, and 
 consulted its essential wants, we should be lovers of 
 God and duty more than lovers of self and selfish 
 pleasure. We should realize the impossibility of 
 getting along happily without rejoicing with those 
 that rejoice and weeping with those that weep. We 
 should esteem it of more importance to be actuated 
 by a strong sensibility to the wants and sorrows of 
 our fellow-beings, than to gain wealth, ease, or ag- 
 grandizement. If we understood ourselves, we 
 should realize that our own welfare and advancement 
 were indissolubly connected with the interests of 
 our neighbors. 
 
 0, there is no bliss for man on earth but that which 
 flows from noble and divine thoughts, a soul alive to 
 God, energetic, spotless, unwearied, zealous in doing 
 good, a heart warmed with the sunshine of a heav- 
 enly world, enriched with a godlike, calm, unwaver- 
 ing liope, through Jesus, of that immortal blessedness 
 which awaits the children of God. The man who 
 lives only for himself, and cares not for others, is 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 283 
 
 always restless and dissatisfied. Preaching, argu- 
 ments, the impressive appeals of human experience, 
 affect him no more than if he were " a brotlier to the 
 insensible rock, or sluggish clod, which the rude 
 swain turns with his share, and treads upon." 
 
 I have studied the Bible every day for the last 
 forty years. This devotedness to the volume of re- 
 vealed truth has given to my theological views and 
 preacliing those peculiarities wliich liavc been so ex- 
 tensively regarded as erroneous and unscriptural. 
 But the particular subjects of my sermons in New 
 Orleans were generally suggested by things which 
 parochial visiting enforced upon my attention. 
 Events, incidents, casual remarks, hints given in 
 some hasty discussion of a supposed fallacy in my 
 customary teachings, or something else wliich hap- 
 pened in my usual rounds each Monday morning, led 
 me into trains of thought and reasonings which 
 were embodied in my next Sunday's discourse. I 
 have never advocated in the pulpit what is techni- 
 cally called the faith or creed of any particular de- 
 nomination, but have endeavored to accommodate 
 instructions to those individual cases and exigencies 
 which at the time seemed to demand especial and 
 immediate attention. My daily out-door experiences 
 and sermons on the Sabbath sustained to each other 
 the relation of cause and effect. Hence my preach- 
 ing had some novelties, and a great many imperfec- 
 tions ; but they were unavoidable, and grew out of 
 circumstances and influences which were above and 
 beyond my control. 
 
284 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 DANGEROUS ILLNESS. — CONVALESCENCE. — JOURNEY TO 
 EUROPE. 
 
 The first week of November, 1846, disease, in one 
 of its most painful and incurable forms, made me a 
 prisoner in my chamber for the space of ten weeks. 
 Some years previous to this date, I had suffered at 
 times severely from a morbid state of the liver, one of 
 the most prevalent complaints among those residents 
 of Louisiana who were born in the latitude of snow 
 and ice. An internal abscess was formed, which, 
 fortunately for my preservation, matured and came 
 away (to use a phrase current in the medical pro- 
 fession) spontaneously. 
 
 During the whole month of November, my strength 
 gradually but constantly declined, till I was pros- 
 trated to infantine weakness. It was a great effort 
 to raise my hand, and respiration was so difficult, I 
 felt as if every breath would be my last. That point 
 of my disease termed the crisis continued two or 
 three days. During this time I was unable to close 
 my eyes, and had abandoned even the hope of recov- 
 ery. One night I said to Mrs. Clapp, " I am dying." 
 She thought so too. An icy coldness had nearly 
 reached the citadel of life. We were alone. I was 
 in perfect possession of my consciousness. From 
 some cause or other, my mental powers were much 
 more active than when in health. My memory was 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 285 
 
 SO excited, vigorous, and grasping, that I recalled 
 easily the whole of my life, and could repeat to my- 
 self passages in the Hebrew, Greek, and Latin lan- 
 guages without an effort. All the literature that I 
 had acquired came up before me with supernatural 
 freshness and charms. A true record of my thoughts 
 and feelings that memora1)le night would fill a vol- 
 ume — and a volume infinitely more interesting than 
 any other exercises that I have ever enjoyed. 
 
 Strange as the declaration may sound to some, 
 tliat was probably the happiest night of my life. 
 My soul was filled with delightful imaginations. I 
 fancied that I saw angels playing on their golden 
 harps, in the most exquisite and enrapturing airs. 
 A kind of profound curiosity, mixed with the high- 
 est delight, dwelt on my mind. For at that period 
 I was not afraid to die. I kept looking to catch a 
 glimpse of the spirit land, whose scenes I expected 
 every moment would burst upon me, when I should 
 close my eyes on earth and open them upon the light 
 of a day whose sun will never go down. Xotliing 
 which I had ever read seemed so sweet to me as the 
 following words of the Psalmist : " Yet am I ever 
 under thy care ; by my right hand thou dost hold 
 me up. Thou wilt guide me with thy counsel, and 
 at last receive me to glory. Whom have I in 
 heaven but thee, and whom on earth do I love in 
 comparison with thee ? Though my flesh and my 
 heart fail, God is the strength of my heart, and my 
 portion forever." Had my death occurred that 
 night, I should have expired with the lines of Dr. 
 "Watts upon my lips : — 
 
286 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 " Jesus can make a dying bed, 
 Feel soft as downy pillows are, 
 Whilst on his breast I lean my head, 
 And breathe my life out sweetly there." 
 
 As to the sins or the virtues of my past life, the 
 thought of the former gave me no pain, and that of 
 the latter afforded me no joy, hope, or consolation, 
 with respect to my future destiny. I could think of 
 nothing but the infinite, everlasting, unchangeable 
 mercy of God in Christ. I felt certain that he would 
 go with me through the valley of death, and beyond 
 the dark, dying struggle, introduce me to the inherit- 
 ance incorruptible, undefiled, and unfading. I re- 
 joiced in the thought, that before another rising sun, 
 I should be permitted to lay down the burdens of 
 this "worn being, so full of pain." A feeling not 
 unlike regret accompanied my first impression that 
 I was returning back to mingle again in the trials, 
 duties, and vicissitudes of earth. 
 
 About one o'clock in the morning I began to lose 
 my sight, and was for some time almost blind. 
 Now I said, " ' This is the last of earth.' Father, 
 into thy hands I co7nmend my spirit.'*^ After the lapse 
 of an hour or two, during which consciousness never 
 forsook me an instant, my vision began to return. 
 The vital powers rallied, the chill of death abated 
 into a genial warmth and gentle perspiration. Be- 
 fore the dawn of day the physicians were in the 
 room, and announced that a favorable change had 
 taken place in my symptoms. Yet, they said, my 
 debility was so extreme, that nothing but the most 
 careful nursing could raise me again. There was 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 287 
 
 but one person on earth able and willing to afford 
 me the attention which my case required. That 
 was my wife, who scarcely left my bedside for two 
 months. She watched over me day and night, 
 and administered with her own hands the various 
 restoratives prescribed by the physicians. Her ex- 
 traordinary and unintermitted efforts saved my life. 
 And were I in possession of the whole earth, I could 
 not make adequate returns and acknowledgments 
 for her unparalleled self-sacrifice in my behalf. 
 
 I have not mentioned my feelings in the imme- 
 diate prospect of death as furnishing any evidence 
 of personal piety, or the correctness of my religious 
 faith at the time. No test of character is more 
 vague, indefinite, and unsatisfactory, than the expe- 
 riences of a dying hour. I once saw a man, who 
 had led what is called an immoral life, walk down 
 that valley of mystery with a sustained demeanor, with 
 a calm aspect, with a firm step, with expressions of 
 the gentlest sympathy towards surrounding relatives 
 and friends, and with a hope triumphant and trans- 
 porting. On the contrary, I have seen the timid, 
 pure, conscientious Christian die in despair, though 
 professing to believe in One who has destroyed the 
 power of death, who came to deliver us from its fear, 
 and unfold to a suffering world the bright and exalt- 
 ing hopes of a future, endless, and blessed existence. 
 Why ? Because he had imbibed the erroneous sen- 
 timent, that future happiness will be awarded to 
 those only who die in the possession of a peculiar 
 fiiith. Eternal bliss is bestowed upon the principle 
 of grace irrespective of our character and conduct 
 
288 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 this side the grave. The New Testament makes it 
 certain that a disembodied spirit cannot commit sin, 
 nor suffer pain. 
 
 The beginning of the year 1847 was blessed with 
 mild, balmy weather, precisely like that which pre- 
 vails in what is termed the Indian summer. The 
 thermometer for a fortnight ranged, on an average, 
 from sixty to seventy degrees with a clear, bracing 
 atmosphere, and a lovely Italian sky, " which does 
 not seem to bound your thought, scarcely your vision, 
 but carries them away to the serene, ever-opening 
 depths of the illimitable heavens." Every one, who, 
 after suffering severe illness, has, from the extreme of 
 emaciation and weakness, recovered a new existence, 
 has probably been conscious of the same delightful 
 sensations of convalescence which I experienced. 
 "When I became strong enough to walk across my 
 room, though in such a state of debility that two min- 
 utes' exercise fatigued me so much that I was obliged 
 to sit down and rest, my bosom was filled with 
 calm, placid, and serene sensations, not unlike those 
 which are supposed to be the portion of the perfect 
 and sinless in the land of immortality. 
 
 Often during the day my feelings became buoyant, 
 elastic, bounding with thrills of happiness which I do 
 not remember to have experienced before or since. 
 The recollection of the manner in which the world 
 had affected me in former years, its ten thousand 
 hopes, desires, and passions, seemed like a dream. 
 I felt sure that those vanities would never return 
 iipon me ; that they had departed forever from my 
 bosom and embrace. But alas ! when health returned, 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 289 
 
 life and earth regained their wonted charms, and feel- 
 ings and passions revived which I had hoped would 
 never again knock at the door of my heart for ad- 
 mission. But they did knock with a fiendish impa- 
 tience, and a legion of demons at their back, ready 
 to commence dread havoc upon that beautiful struc- 
 ture, which I fancied sickness and renewed promises 
 of faithfulness to God had reared to be the everlast- 
 ing dwelling place of my soul. This illustrates the 
 meaning and truthfulness of that portion of Scrip- 
 ture in which the apostle affirms that God has 
 placed us here, under the dominion of laws which 
 make all men more or less foolish, weak, erring, sin- 
 ful, and unhappy, in spite of their utmost wisdom, 
 prayerfulness, resolution, and self-denial. 
 
 1 shall never forget, until memory has lost her 
 seat, the first time I rode out after being shut up in 
 my chamber more than two months. It was on a 
 pleasant morning, about eleven o'clock. Every ob- 
 ject had a new aspect and a new coloring. I looked 
 with fresh and admiring views upon the heavens and 
 earth, the gardens and fields, as if I had never before 
 beheld the beautiful face of nature. I thought of 
 the words of the dying Rousseau. When he appre- 
 hended that his final exit drew near, he desired the 
 windows of his apartment to be opened, that he 
 might have the pleasure, as he said, of beholding 
 nature once more. " How lovely she is ! " he ex- 
 claimed ; " how pure and serene thy countenance !" 
 Were not those feelings natural and becoming a 
 Christian ? Who knows but they sprang from the 
 workings of a heart touched at that solemn crisis by 
 25 
 
290 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 divine grace, and prepared to be ushered into the 
 higher scenes, wonders, and glories of a spiritual 
 existence ? I had a quantity of happiness that morn- 
 ing more than enough to counterbalance the pains 
 of my whole life. 
 
 I think the greatest sin of which we are guilty is 
 ingratitude. Life here, properly viewed, is crowned 
 with glory and honor, with loving kindness and ten- 
 der mercy. " It is a great and ineffable good. God 
 saw and pronounced that it was good. It is good in 
 the unnumbered sources of happiness around it. It is 
 good in the ten thousand buoyant and happy affections 
 within it. It is good in its connection with infinite 
 goodness, and in its hope of infinite glory licreafter. 
 True, our life is frail in its earthly state, and it is often 
 bowed down with heavy burdens ; but still it endures, 
 and revives, and flourishes ; still it is redeemed from 
 destruction, and crowned with superabounding mer- 
 cies. Frail, indeed, and yet strong is it in its heav- 
 enly nature. Here the immortal is clothed with 
 mortality, and the incorruptible with corruption. 
 It is like an instrument formed for celestial melody, 
 whose materials, like those of an organ, were taken 
 from things that moulder and go back to dust ; but 
 lo, the hand of the divine Artificer has been upon 
 it ! It is curiously wrought ; it is fearfully and won- 
 derfully made ; it is fashioned for every tone of 
 gladness, hope, and triumph. It may be relaxed, 
 but it can be strung again. It may send forth a 
 mournful strain, but it is formed also for the music 
 of heavenly joy. Even its sadness is pleasing and 
 mournful to the soul. Even suffering is hallowed 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 291 
 
 and dear. Life has that vahie, that even misery 
 cannot destroy it. It neutralizes grief, and makes 
 it a source of deep and sacred interest. Ah, holy 
 hours of sorrow and suffering ! hours of communion 
 with the great and triumphant Sufferer ! Who that has 
 passed through your silent moments of trust, prayer, 
 and resignation, would give you up for all the bright- 
 ness and beatitude of earth's temporal prosperity ? " * 
 The third Sabbath of January, 1847, though still 
 too feeble to study or preach, I insisted upon being 
 carried to the church, that I might once more sit in 
 the pulpit a few moments only, and look out upon a 
 congregation that I had never expected to meet 
 again on earth. Notice of my intention was inserted 
 in the papers of the previous day — Saturday. The 
 morning was fair, and the house was filled to over- 
 flowing. When the carriage was at the door, my 
 friends advanced the strongest motives to dissuade 
 mo from fulfilling the appointment. But my family 
 pliysician overruled their objections, on the ground 
 that it would probably do me good to gratify the in- 
 tense longing which I had to revisit the sanctuary of 
 God. It was agreed that I should not attempt to 
 speak at all, but sit quietly in the pulpit whilst the 
 choir sang an anthem, accompanied with the organ. 
 I fully intended to keep my promise. My friends 
 helped me up the pulpit stairs. The ascent exhaust- 
 ed me, and I sank into the chair in a fainting condi- 
 tion. I could not see the faces of the hearers. Cor- 
 dials were applied freely, and in a few moments I 
 felt better. The organ struck up its heavenly tones. 
 
 * Dr. Dewey. 
 
292 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Soon I could see the audience distinctly, and recog- 
 nized many countenances of dear and beloved ones, 
 to whom I had in my mind bidden an eternal adieu. 
 The effect was overwhelming. I felt as if I had re- 
 turned from the dead, to afford ocular demonstration 
 that our life will not be lost in the dark, silent tomb. 
 
 When the music ceased, prompted by an irresistible 
 impulse, I rose to speak. One of the trustees, Avho 
 sat in a chair near me, in a whisper said, " You must 
 not attempt to address the audience. Pronounce 
 the benediction and retire." But I could not help 
 repeating a few verses of the 103d Psalm : " Bless 
 the Lord, my soul, and all that is within me, bless 
 his holy name," &c. This excited me so much, I 
 felt such an excess of joy, that I was compelled to 
 relieve my mind by giving it utterance in something 
 like the following words : — 
 
 " My brethren, I have been raised from the bor- 
 ders of the grave by that ever-present Friend who 
 giveth us life, breath, and all things. One night 
 during my late confinement, I expected every mo- 
 ment to breathe my last. My mind was never more 
 calm or composed. What made me so ? An unfal- 
 tering faith in God, Jesus, and immortality ; the 
 thought that I belonged to God, not only by creation, 
 an upholding providence, and a solemn accountabil- 
 ity, but by a love vast as infinitude — a love that no 
 amount of iniquity on my part could change into 
 coldness, indifference, or hatred — a love that can 
 never, even for a moment, intermit its depth, fervor, 
 strength, tenderness ; can never waver or fail ; which 
 makes it certain that we cannot be finally and for- 
 
REV. THEODOEE CLAPP. 293 
 
 ever lost, because our own glory and happiness are 
 identified with those of the Creator himself. The 
 atoning, reconciling sacrifice made by Christ is sim- 
 ply a clear, unambiguous revelation of God's love 
 for man. 
 
 " The moment that a person understands and ap- 
 preciates the doctrine of the gospel, — that the works 
 of nature, the events of time, and the destinies of a 
 coming eternity, are but the counsels and unfoldings 
 of a perfect, boundless beneficence ; that the Power 
 which called us into existence, and has ordained all 
 the changes of health, sickness, joy, sorrow, pros- 
 perity, and gloom, which we experience, is infinite, 
 unchanging, eternal, and almighty love, — that 
 very instant he becomes an enlightened, rejoicing 
 disciple of the Son of God. As the light of this 
 revelation dawns upon his soul, he exclaims, ' All is 
 good, all is well, all is right, and shall be forever.' 
 His religion is not a cold, barren speculation, but a 
 profound sentiment ; a deep, intense, all-subduing, 
 and sanctifying faith ; a faith that every thing which 
 befalls him, from the cradle to the grave, will issue 
 in results great and glorious beyond the reach of 
 thought or imagination. Through the telescope of 
 the Bible, he looks out upon the enrapturing scenes 
 of a future state, rising in all the effulgence of an 
 ever-progressive glory, beyond the sad ruins of earth 
 and time. Hope in an inheritance so exalted lifts 
 the mind above all the reverses, sorrows, and convul- 
 sions of earth. What can reach or disturb the pro- 
 found peace awakened by a principle so divine ? 
 
 " My friends, when you come to die, if blessed 
 25* 
 
294 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 with an unimpaired consciousness, how utterly 
 worthless will then appear to you the wealth, fame, 
 and aggrandizement for which so many strive and 
 struggle, weary and wear themselves out, regardless 
 of their higher interests ! Then, too, you will hnd 
 no satisfaction in the memory of your good deeds — 
 deeds of faith, repentance, devotion, holiness, or 
 charity. Though ever so eminent in Christian at- 
 tainments, you will feel that you have no more claim, 
 on the score of justice, to the divine mercy than the 
 greatest reprobate that ever died. Your only prayer 
 will be that of the publican, ' God be merciful to me 
 a sinner.' Your only hope, then, will be that it is the 
 free, undeserved, omnipotent purpose of the Father, 
 in spite of your sins and follies, to raise you finally 
 to that higher existence where wisdom, virtue, and 
 holiness will reign unclouded and immeasurable. 
 
 "I do not believe that it is in our power to love God 
 at all without a firm, full, and immovable expecta- 
 tion of living forever in a world to come. Suppose 
 that at this very moment, by irresistible arguments, 
 or any other means, each of us should become in- 
 spired with a deep, intense, undoubting conviction 
 that we had no souls ; that the Bible, church, pulpit, 
 and philosophy are themselves deluded, and are de- 
 luding the world, touching this subject ; that what 
 we call the mind, is destined to pass away with the 
 body, bend before the same resistless law of change, 
 decline, die, and go back to dust ; imagine, I moan, 
 that we were compelled to feel, with absolute certain- 
 ty, that as beast, bird, fish, and insect retire at last 
 from every blade of grass, flower, shrub, tree, plain. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 295 
 
 and valley, hill and mountain, from every region of 
 water and air, to exist no more, so we, also, at the 
 expiration of this feverish, transitory life, will be 
 doomed to close our eyes on a glorious universe, and 
 he swallowed up in the dark gulf of eternal forgct- 
 fulness. Now, I ask, with such a gloomy, revolting 
 creed, could we possibly cherish the emotions of piety, 
 offer adoration to the Supreme, rehearse even the 
 Lord's prayer with sincerity, present upon the altar 
 of this or any other church the sacrifice of a calm, 
 contented, grateful, and rejoicing heart ? This ques- 
 tion requires no answer. We must be able to look 
 away with buoyant hope beyond the grave, before 
 the thought of an almighty Creator can inspire us 
 witli wonder and delight — before we can become 
 enamoured of the charms of virtue, cease to indulge 
 and obey the bodily appetites, or exult in the mani- 
 festations of infinity, omnipotence, and boundless 
 love displayed in the beautiful, but shadowy, evanes- 
 cent scenes of the present world. "When a person 
 fully believes that a nobler, immortal destiny awaits, 
 not himself, relatives, and friends only, but all the 
 race of Adam, he must of necessity become pious ; 
 his heart is instantly replenished with holy, divine 
 affections, and goes forth to engage spontaneously in 
 the love, worship, and service of the great Father. 
 
 " In my late sickness, I was made unspeakably 
 happy by the assurance, resting on the revelation of 
 Jesus, that my heavenly Father can never allow a 
 real hurt or injuri/ to be inflicted upon me here or 
 hereafter ; can never permit me to be hurt or injured 
 by myself or others, (punishment is not hurt, but 
 
296 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 healing ;) can never allow my intellectual, moral 
 being to be crushed out by the mysterious forces of 
 time, nature, change, sin, or death. All the inhab- 
 itants of New Orleans would become Christians to- 
 day, if they could be made to realize the true char- 
 acter of God — if they could be brought to see the 
 wonders of that higher existence which Jesus has 
 unfolded ; an existence where, instead of sin, sick- 
 ness, broken, bereaved hearts, and bitter tears, will 
 reign unmingled purity, ever-advancing knowledge, 
 and constantly increasing joy in the realms of a life 
 which can never terminate." 
 
 I was occupied twenty minutes in delivering the 
 above address. My friends remarked that at tlie 
 commencement my face was as pallid as that of a 
 corpse ; but as I warmed with tlie subject, it was 
 flushed with a glow rarely exhibited even in my days 
 of health. Words flowed from me with the ease and 
 freedom of one speaking under the influence of mes- 
 merism. The perspiration flowed in streams. I was 
 carried home and laid upon the bed, where I slept 
 profoundly till the next morning. No alarming conse- 
 quences followed the cifort, as ray friends anticipated. 
 On the contrary, I felt much better for it, and went 
 to the church every succeeding Sabbath morning the 
 next two months. On the first Sunday in April, 1847, 
 I preached a farewell discourse preparatory to my 
 leaving for Europe. It was the wish of my physi- 
 cians that I should select a mode of crossing the At- 
 lantic which would protract the period of my voyage 
 as long as possible. I therefore embarked in a mer- 
 chant vessel for Liverpool, which left New Orleans 
 the beginning of May. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 297 
 
 It took IIS fifty-fivo days to make the passage. For 
 one week we advanced scarcely a mile, being obliged 
 to lie to in order to repair damages received from a 
 tornado. Dr. Dewey, in his Journal of a Tour to Eu- 
 rope, says, " I defy any body, not thoroughly accus- 
 tomed to the sea, to enjoy its grandeur, after having 
 been rocked into that indescribable state of ennui, 
 disquiet, discomfort, and inertness which the sea 
 often produces. I do not mean seasickness, but a 
 sickness of the sea, which has never, that I know, 
 been described. It is a tremendous ennui, a com- 
 plete inaptitude to all enjoyment, a total inability to 
 be pleased with any thing. Nothing is agreeable — 
 neither eating, nor drinking, nor walking, nor talk- 
 ing, nor reading, nor writing ; nor even is going to 
 sleep an agreeable process, and waking is perfect 
 misery." 
 
 My experience was directly the reverse of this 
 description. Every thing was agreeable to mo. I 
 never passed as many happy days in succession on 
 land as I did during my voyage from New Orleans to 
 Liverpool. I will speak of the delightful sensations 
 which I experienced under two heads, to adopt the 
 sermon style — those which came from an external 
 source, and those derived from an internal origin. 
 I will begin with the external, premising that, like 
 Dr. Dewey, I was never seasick for a moment in my 
 whole life. On the contrary, when at sea I have a 
 more voracious appetite, and a keener gusto for the 
 indulgences of the table, than I ever feel on shore. 
 I could sit all day and gaze with rapture on the great 
 sea, that majestic and lovely emblem of the all-wise, 
 
298 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 all-perfect, all-beautiful, and eternal One. The 
 mighty deep mirrors his amazing, illimitable perfec- 
 tions. Its wonderful extent, of which we can form 
 no adequate conception, — its unexplored abysses, 
 lower than plummet ever sounded, — are appealed to 
 by inspired writers as the most striking revelations 
 of infinitude and omnipotence which our globe pre- 
 sents. The continual motion and irresistible force 
 of that mass of waters compel us to feel our noth- 
 ingness — how entirely dependent and insignificant 
 we are. I cannot imagine how it is possible for even 
 an unreflecting person to look on this theatre of a 
 Creator's manifestations without a sublime, thrilling- 
 sense of his presence and attributes. 
 
 " Thou glorious mirror, where the Ahiiighty's form 
 Glasses itself in tempests ; in all time, 
 Calm or con\iilsccl, in breeze, or gale, or storm, 
 Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime 
 Dark-heaving, boundless, endless, and sublime — 
 The image of eternity — the throne 
 Of the Invisible." 
 
 The ocean docs not, as some suppose, exhibit al- 
 ways to our view the same unvaried and monotonous 
 scene. Far from it. Its aspects are endlessly diver- 
 sified. No genius of poet, painter, or scholar can 
 adequately delineate them. I remember one morn- 
 ing, when in the middle of the Atlantic, that, as far 
 as my eye extended, there was an expanse whicli 
 looked smooth, unruffled, and shining like a surface 
 of polished glass. Not a breath of air disturbed tlie 
 deep serene. All was still — silent as the tomb. I 
 fancied, almost, that I had entered some new, strange 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 299 
 
 "world, some boundless solitude of waters, that were 
 incapable of motion. But all at once a change came 
 over the scene ; from the point where I was sitting 
 on the deck to the utmost verge of the horizon, the 
 surface of the sea began to crisp or quiver ; it was 
 roughened as if fanned "by the invisible wings of 
 elves and fairies on some maritime expedition." This 
 was followed by a slight, delicate, graceful undula- 
 tion of the waters, of surpassing and ineffable beauty. 
 If we beheld the ocean only in this state, we should 
 not suspect that it was an element made for this dark, 
 stormy planet, " but to kiss and lave with blessed- 
 ness the beautiful shores of some sunny emerald 
 isle of unfading flowers, eternal spring, and cloud- 
 less skies." 
 
 But in a few moments, all this • loveliness disa]> 
 pcared. I was struck with a sublime, awful sound, 
 like the mighty roar of Niagara. It was the pre- 
 cursor of a storm. Soon the main was lashed into 
 terrihc fury. I thought of that magnificent descrip- 
 tion of a tempest in the first book of Virgil's ^Eneid. 
 On every side, white-crested billows were seen rising 
 up in the shape of pyramids ; hills and mountains, 
 alternated by corresponding depressions ; eddying, 
 boiling, maddened whirlpools of foam. For some 
 reason or other, the waves all seemed rushing 
 towards the vessel. But this appearance, as the 
 captain informed me, was a mere ocular deception. 
 When a mountainous mass of waters fell upon the 
 deck of the ship, it trembled in every plank and 
 timber, like a leaf in the wind. Sometimes her 
 course was checked by the crushing weight, so that 
 
300 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 for a moment she would seem to stand still. The 
 force of a downward billow often breaks in pieces 
 the bows of a vessel in an instant, consigning all on 
 board to a watery grave. The wind continued to 
 blow harder and harder through the day. 
 
 The night came on, terrible with blackness, thun- 
 der and lightning. All nature seemed to be in com- 
 motion. My berth was a hammock, suspended in 
 the centre of the main cabin, on which I hardly felt 
 the motion of the vessel. And although to my in- 
 experienced eye our condition was very perilous, I 
 laid myself down, and slept as soundly as I ever did 
 on shore, in my own chamber, in the full quietness and 
 peace of a happy home. Every thing that human power 
 could effect was done to secure our safety. With 
 perfect composure, I was enabled to leave the issue 
 in the hands of God, under whose providence we are 
 just as safe in one situation as another. I thought 
 of the following eloquent passage in the writings of 
 an old divine : " We are all travellers, prosecuting 
 the voyage of time ; launched upon an ocean where 
 storms and tempests often prevail ; where the ele- 
 ments are agitated, and the waves boisterous ; where 
 clouds frequently gather upon our prospects, dark 
 and fearful, and the winds blow bleak and wild. 
 Thus endangered, nobody can be happy without the 
 firm faith that some arm mightier than that of man 
 or nature holds the helm of affairs, and some wisdom 
 more far-reaching than mortal ken is our guide, 
 guard, and panoply, amid the rocks, shoals, and 
 whirlpools that beset our perilous way." 
 
 A clear, placid, summer evening at sea is a scene 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 301 
 
 resplendent with beauty. The last red hues of ex- 
 piring day are fading in the twilight ; seated on the 
 deck, you are charmed with the evanescent loveliness 
 of the setting sun, and think, " Even thus transitory 
 is all of earth, which we so much admire." As tlie 
 heavens seem to be sinking into utter night, a soli- 
 tary liglit shines out ; it is in the direction of your 
 home ; you think of those relatives and friends whom 
 no distance can remove from your affections ; in a 
 few moments, hundreds more make their appearance. 
 Then comes the galaxy, — the milky way, which the 
 ancient poets called the high road or pathway of the 
 gods, — having a boldness and brilliancy never seen 
 on land. With what grandeur does a sight of the 
 firmament strike the imagination, when beheld in a 
 clear night at sea, filled with stars scattered in such 
 infinite numbers, and in such splendid profusion ! 
 The ship runs so smoothly that you are almost un- 
 conscious of motion. All her sails arc filled ; and 
 seen at a distance, she resembles " some snow-white, 
 beauteous bird, afloat in the heavens on her airy 
 pinions." 
 
 But a change comes over the prospect. The moon 
 unveils her peerless light ; tlie stars hide their di- 
 minished heads ; a silvered radiance sparkles over all 
 the waters ; you witness the same phenomenon which 
 Homer described three thousand years ago, at the 
 close of the eighth book of the Iliad : — 
 
 " At length the moon, refulgent lamp of night, 
 O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light ; 
 When not a breath disturbs the deep serene, 
 And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene, 
 A flood of glory bursts from all the skies." 
 
 26 
 
802 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 As you dwell on the scene, your imagination is over- 
 powered, and you wander in a world of fancy and 
 encliantment ; your bosom is filled with those pure, 
 ennobling, and refined sentiments that recognize the 
 infinite — which open to the inward eye glimpses of 
 the calm, bright, unbroken peace of that happier 
 and immortal state of being to which death will in- 
 troduce us. 
 
 One's enjoyment at sea depends materially upon 
 his daily habits. He should arouse himself in the 
 morning at the first peep of dawn. Whilst the decks 
 are being washed, let him attend to his toilet, and 
 with as much care and particularity as when on land ; 
 then let him read his Bible, and say his prayers ; by 
 this time, breakfast will be ready ; when finished, he 
 should walk on deck an hour at least ; the rest of 
 the morning may be spent in study, reading, and 
 conversation. These remarks refer to one who does 
 not suffer from seasickness. If such a person is mis- 
 erable at sea, it is because he eats too much, sleeps 
 too much, or gives way to sensations of indolence. 
 
 How glorious a morning on the ocean ! " Yonder 
 comes the powerful king of day." At first you see 
 only a small portion of his disk — not more than a 
 hair's breadth above the ocean's bed. Bright rays, 
 like long lines of gold, are sent out over the trem- 
 bling waters, that seem rejoicing to welcome the 
 new-born day. Soon tlie whole orb appears, bathed 
 in a flood of light, brilliant in all the orange, azure, 
 and purple glories of the rainbow. Presently light, 
 fleecy clouds collect around the sun. These are 
 constantly changing their tints, from a deep yellow, 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 303 
 
 then a straw color, then a willow green, and finally 
 perhaps the dark, beautiful gray of autumn. Be- 
 neath all this glory, the boundless field of waters 
 reflects, with nnspeakablc beauty, the splendor of 
 the clouds and sky, leaving the impression that you 
 are in some fairy regions, infinitely removed from 
 the dull realities of earth. The same wonders are 
 often repeated at the close of the day. Is it strange 
 that the poor Indian, when gazing upon the sublimi- 
 ties of the sunset, should realize the presence of the 
 Great Spirit, and cherish the hope of a humble 
 heaven " behind the cloud-topped hill," where he 
 will some day repose under the shade of the tree of 
 life, and bathe in the waters of perennial bliss ? O 
 the surpassing freshness and beauty of an early dawn 
 at sea ! Its glowing radiance, its crimson splendors, 
 its rich, variegated drapery of clouds, present to the 
 eye the most glorious assemblage of beautiful objects 
 ever beheld. 
 
 Nothing to me is more mysterious than the idio- 
 syncrasy of an educated gentleman who is miserable 
 on the ocean, although not seasick. For myself, I 
 should like to make a voyage once a year, if I had 
 the means and time. I can say with Byron, — 
 
 " And I have loved thee, Ocean, and ray joy 
 Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be 
 
 Borne, like thy bubbles, onward ; from a boy 
 I wantoned with thy breakers ; they to me 
 "Were a delight, and if the freshening sea 
 
 Made them a terror, 'twas a pleasing fear." 
 
 To me it seems an enviable end to be submerged 
 or lost at sea. All is soon over ; there is no trouble 
 
304 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 about a shroud, coffin, funeral, or tomb. " Old 
 ocean's gray and melancholy waste " is a magnificent 
 sepulchre. Who would not like to sleep in it ? Per- 
 haps it may be my own destiny to be buried there. 
 I have no objection, if such be the will of Heaven. 
 I ought to have been a sailor. My natural taste and 
 feelings fit me for such a mode of life ; and a good 
 sailor is quite as useful and respectable a being as a 
 good clergyman. Some may wonder at the taste 
 above expressed. 
 
 " Let him who crawls, enamoured of decay, 
 Cling to his couch, and sicken years away. 
 Heave his thick breath, and shake his palsied head, 
 "While gasp by gasp he falters forth his soul ; 
 Ours with one pang, one bound, escapes control." 
 
 Now I will look at a few of those pleasures which 
 a thinking man may enjoy at sea, derived from in- 
 ternal sources. To illustrate this topic, I will state 
 an item of my own experience. When I crossed the 
 Atlantic, I carried in my pocket a small edition of 
 the New Testament in Greek, with the Polymicrian 
 Lexicon, in the same language. Along with them, I 
 kept by me constantly the Psalms of David, in the 
 Hebrew. They were three little books of the duo- 
 decimo size, with paper very thin, and distinctly 
 printed. They occupied such a small compass, and 
 were so handy, that I was never without them for a 
 moment. For the last forty years it has been my 
 habit to abjure desultory reading. I never think of 
 perusing a book through in course. I use it just as 
 an advocate does his law books, to find arguments, 
 facts, or beauties, with reference to some particular 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 305 
 
 subject. Before reaching the Balize, I adopted the 
 following platform : First, to examine what the 
 New Testament says about Jesus Christ ; secondly, 
 what it teaches on the subject of rewards and pun- 
 ishments ; thirdly, the revelations it contains in re- 
 gard to a future state ; fourthly, I resolved to collect 
 and to compare all the representations in the gospel, 
 as to the nature of true holiness. I determined to 
 devote every morning to these biblical investigations, 
 and every evening to other reading, conversation, 
 and exercise. 
 
 During the whole voyage to Liverpool, which oc- 
 cupied nearly eight weeks, I followed faithfully this 
 programme, with the exception of three or four days, 
 when, the vessel being sorely tempest-tossed, there 
 was no opportunity for reading. I will barely state 
 the result of my scriptural researches on the topics 
 which have just been specified. First, it cannot be 
 denied that there is a mystery in Christ's nature, 
 mission, and saving influences, not solved in the New 
 Testament. But there is a mystery in every thing. 
 " Science," says Lord Bacon, " is built upon, and 
 encompassed on every side by, problems which the 
 human mind never has, and never will be able to 
 solve this side the grave. So Christianity may be 
 compared to a monument, lifting its head to heaven 
 upon the very boundaries between the known and 
 unknown. Still, we are taught that Jesus Christ is 
 not, strictly speaking, an infinite being, a being 
 whose nature is coextensive with God's, and covering 
 the whole immeasurable area of the universe, physi- 
 cal and spiritual, created and uncreated. As we are 
 20* 
 
306 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 SO organized that we cannot help feehng that five 
 is less than twenty, so we know that the same being 
 cannot be at once finite and infinite, dependent and 
 almighty, bounded and at tlic same moment un- 
 bonnded. The mind of Jesus is a human mind, 
 perfectly immaculate, and endowed with the highest 
 possible gifts and graces." For it pleased the Father 
 that in Him all fulness should dwell — the fulness of 
 the Godhead bodily. Hence he is called our elder 
 brother, which he could not be, unless his intrinsic, 
 inherent, essential nature was precisely the same as 
 ours, sin excepted. In addition, he was sent forth 
 into the world and commissioned by the Father to 
 teach, enlighten, sanctify, and immortalize the chil- 
 dren of men. 
 
 Secondly. It cannot be proved by the teachings 
 of Christ and his apostles, that punishments dis- 
 pensed for the bad actions which men do in the 
 present world will continue forever. On the con- 
 trary, we are told that death, the last enemy of man, 
 shall be destroyed ; and also that he who is dead 
 has lost even the power of sinning. Consequently the 
 future world is a very different one from this. Where 
 there are no bodies, no earthly appetites or passions, 
 there can be neither sin nor suffering. In the dis- 
 embodied state individuals will doubtless enjoy a 
 higher or lower degree of happiness in proportion to 
 their previous attainments ; but none can be mis- 
 erable. Yet the consequences of our conduct in 
 time will flow on forever, sin and pain excepted. 
 
 Thirdly. The happiness of man in the future 
 state is based by the New Testament writers alto- 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 307 
 
 gether upon the resurrection from the dead. It 
 affirms repeatedly that all mankind, both just and 
 unjust, will be brought to enjoy a state of immor- 
 tality beyond the grave. It affirms also that in the 
 immortal world there will be no death, no sin, no 
 suffering, because all there, being the children of the 
 resurrection, will be the sons of God, and equal 
 unto the angels. A person has no more power to 
 fit himself for a happy immortality than he has to 
 create a world. Our only ground of hope as to the 
 future is the promise of Jesus that all mankind, 
 irrespective of their character or conduct here, in a 
 future state will be endued with a nature spiritual 
 and incorruptible. 
 
 Fourthly. Paul and his coadjutors represent the 
 hope of a blessed existence after death, as a most 
 efficient principle of sanctification. He who has 
 this hope will no longer " be foolish, deceived, diso- 
 bedient, serving divers lusts and pleasures, living in 
 envy and malice, hateful, and hating others." No 
 longer Avill he be irreverent and unthankful towards 
 God. No longer will he prevaricate or falsify, or 
 stain his conscience for profit or pleasure. No longer 
 will he steep his soul in the gross and debasing in- 
 dulgences of sense. The charms of rectitude, hu- 
 mility, and other moral qualities, that constitute 
 Christian excellence, will so captivate his heart as to 
 render him insensible to the inferior attractions of 
 an outward, worldly life. Holiness, as defined in the 
 gospel, is a deep, intense, supreme, absorbing love of 
 spiritual beauty, self-government, the joy of a benev- 
 olent spirit, the smiles of an approving conscience, 
 
808 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 the calm, gentle, soul-satisfying affections of hope, 
 gratitude, and trust in God. 
 
 I am well aware that there is no originality in 
 these views. But during this voyage they came to 
 my mind with a freshness, power, and plenitude 
 that I had never before experienced. I kept them 
 before me morning, noon, and night. By them I 
 was enabled to commune with God and feel the in- 
 spiration of his Spirit, as I gazed upon the amazing 
 manifestations of divine majesty in the mighty deep. 
 I felt that Christianity was from God, that mere 
 men were no more competent to originate it than to 
 create the Atlantic Ocean. When I sat on deck in 
 a pleasant night, admiring the diffuse light of the 
 galaxy, that astronomers tell us is composed of the 
 mingled effulgence of innumerable stars, each of 
 which is probably tlie centre of a system, like our 
 own sun, — when I thought of the immensity of the 
 physical universe, those worlds upon worlds, and 
 systems upon systems, stretching onward and on- 
 ward to infinitude, and all revolving in the course 
 of inconceivable ages around some common centre., 
 — all these external glories did not appear to me 
 more striking and magnificent than that s])iritual 
 world which Jesus has unfolded, and of which the 
 material creation is but a type, symbol, or representa- 
 tion. Nay, the moral character of Jesus struck me 
 as more grand than the outward universe, with all 
 its sensible laws and phenomena. As 1 look upon the 
 Son of God, in that last trying scene, when the storm 
 of a world's scorn and hatred was beating over him, — 
 calm, gentle, forgiving, intrepid, resting solely upon 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 309 
 
 the eternal truth of God, — superior to vulgar pas- 
 sions and fear, to pain, peril, and death in its most 
 appalling form, — I am impressed with a sense of the 
 sublime, in comparison with which, heaven, earth, 
 and sea, and all that is therein, seem poor and insig- 
 nificant. 
 
 Akenside, author of the Pleasures of Imagination, 
 in the following beautiful passage, describes the vast 
 superiority of moral sublimity, when contrasted with 
 that of the natural world : — 
 
 •' Look, then, abroad through nature to the range 
 Of planets, suns, and adamantine spheres, 
 Wheeling unshaken through the void immense ; 
 And speak, O man ! does this capacious scene 
 With half that kindling majesty dilate 
 Thy strong conception, as when Brutus rose 
 Refulgent from the stroke of Cn:sar's fate, 
 Amid the crowd of patriots, and his' arm 
 Aloft extending, like eternal Jove, 
 When guilt brings down the thunder, called aloud 
 On TuUy's name, and shook his crimson steel, 
 And bade the father of his country hail ! 
 For lo ! the tyrant prostrate on the dust ; 
 And Rome again is free." 
 
 But who was Brutus, (conceding tlie purity of 
 his motives,) who was Socrates, or Plato, compared 
 with Jesus ? And yet, if Jesus has taught truly, 
 tliere is not a child of Adam who will not become, 
 ultimately, as wise, as immaculate, as great, as 
 divine as he himself was on the day of his cruci- 
 fixion. The mind of Jesus was essentially a human 
 mind filled with the fulness of God. Nothing loftier, 
 notliing less. lie could not be higher without be- 
 coming God himself — very God. lie came to save 
 
310 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 all men. Hence it is certain that the lowest and 
 weakest person of our race will make an everlasting 
 advancement in wisdom and goodness. His facul- 
 ties will go on unfolding and ripening forever ; his 
 acquisitions more extended, his range of thought 
 wider, his perceptions more clear, his character more 
 beautiful ; and thus he will ascend from height 
 to height, from glory to glory, without ever reach- 
 ing an acme — the final summit of intellectual and 
 moral attainments ; for that summit is the infinite 
 Jehovah. 
 
 Yes, it was when sailing 
 
 " O'er the glad waters of the dark-blue sea, 
 My thoughts as boundless, and my soul as free," 
 
 that grace was given me to realize, with new, fresh, 
 ecstatic delight, my relation to Jesus Christ, the 
 Author and Finisher of our faith. I used to be con- 
 tinually saying to myself, as I looked out upon this 
 vast creation, " I am indeed a child of its infinite 
 Author — bound to his throne by the indissoluble 
 ties of a common nature ; a child ennobled and 
 redeemed by the mission of Jesus, standing in the 
 centre of this magnificent panorama of worlds, with 
 the glorious certainty that they are all my own 
 inheritance, that I shall live to enjoy them forever. 
 For all things are mine, whether the present world, 
 or life, or death, or things present, or things to 
 come ; all arc mine, because I am Christ's, and 
 Christ is God's." Such were the thoughts that 
 made those fifty-five days an epoch in my life — an 
 epoch brighter than any of its predecessors. I felt 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 311 
 
 all the time as if I could see God, as if I were a 
 partaker of his spirit and perfections, and through 
 them was destined to triumph over nature, frailty, 
 change, sin, corruption, and the grave. And even 
 in the worst weather, I laid myself down and slept 
 as sweetly, with a heart as calm, and light, and 
 joyous, as if, like the sea bird, I could weather 
 the fierce storm, and float unhurt on the tossing 
 billows. 
 
 In the afternoons my reading was more easy, mis- 
 cellaneous, and discursive, interspersed with the 
 pleasures of social intercourse. Yet there were but 
 two persons on board with whom I held much con- 
 versation — the captain and the only passenger 
 except myself. The former was a native of Salem, 
 Massachusetts, a gentleman of extensive reading, 
 who had spent forty-three years of his life at sea, 
 and seen the whole globe. His memory was most 
 retentive, and he had a fund of information and 
 anecdote absolutely inexhaustible. He was a pious 
 man, and had prayers in his state room every morning 
 and evening. A love stronger than death grew up 
 between us during this voyage. He was blessed with 
 the taste of a finished scholar, a knowledge both of 
 books and mankind, which I have rarely met with, 
 and freedom from bigotry more perfect than I ever 
 saw before or since. He died two years ago, and is 
 now beyond the praise or censure of mortals. 
 
 My fellow-passenger was a resident of New Or- 
 leans. Although a most intelligent, agreeable, and 
 worthy gentleman, and most excellent company, 
 he was at that time inclined to be sceptical on 
 
312 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 the subject of religion. But when I met him hist 
 winter, I found that he had become an ardent, zeal- 
 ous spiritualist, and of course a firm believer in God, 
 inspiration, and immortality. The change was to 
 me the more extraordinary, because he has a mind 
 remarkably cool, clear, and philosophical. I have 
 never known a person less liable to be led astray by 
 sophistries and enthusiasm of any kind. Who dares 
 say that there is nothing true, divine, or beautiful 
 in modern spiritualism ? 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 313 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL IN EUROPE. — REFLECTIONS WHICH 
 A SUPERFICIAL VIEW OF THE OLD WORLD AWAKENED 
 IN MY MIND. 
 
 I HAD read with deep interest and close attention, 
 for many years, the most celebrated works concern- 
 ing Enrope, published by the tourists and literary 
 men of the United States, before I saw the old world 
 with my own eyes. I carried with mo across the 
 Atlantic Dr. Dewey's Journal of a Tour in Europe. 
 From what I knew of this great and good man, I 
 was able to rely on the fidelity of his pen with a full, 
 unlimited confidence. By a universally acknowl- 
 edged superiority of culture, imagination, and ca- 
 pacity of oljserving, he was eminently qualified to 
 give a vivid and beautiful description of the various 
 scenes and objects which attracted his notice. 
 
 A careful perusal of what he had written, I vainly 
 imagined, wo\dd present ideas and pictures to my 
 mental eye essentially resembling those derived 
 from actual observation. Before landing at Liver- 
 pool, I thought myself pretty well acquainted with 
 that city and the objects of interest which it con- 
 tained, because my reading about them had been so 
 minute and thorough. When we were sailing up St. 
 George's Cliannel, I observed to the captain that I 
 did not expect to be much smitten with the external 
 appearance of any thing which I might see in Wales, 
 27 
 
314 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 England, or Scotland ; for long familiarity with the 
 best descriptions of the various objects which they 
 exhibit would probably make them seem to me like 
 old acquaintances. He replied, smiling at my stu- 
 pidity, (I suppose,) " You may have acquired from 
 books a rich fund of information concerning the 
 geography, statistics, and history of these regions, 
 but the impressions which the seeing of them makes 
 on the minds of beholders cannot be expressed by 
 words. Words can bear no natural resemblance, 
 like a picture or statue, to the external objects which 
 they signify." 
 
 This is a fact of which many writers, as well as 
 readers, do not seem to be aware. One wlio lias al- 
 ways been deaf cannot enjoy the pleasures of mel- 
 ody and harmony ; the blind cannot be initiated into 
 the charms of color by words. Equally impossible 
 is it for a stranger to acquire, by reading, the ideas 
 and feelings which would be poured into his mind 
 by the sight of any particular scenes of nature or 
 art, such as Mont Blanc, Jungfrau, Lake Geneva, 
 the wonders of Rome, Paris, London, or Edinburgh. 
 A writer, after having been admitted to these striking 
 spectacles, may amuse and entertain tlie minds of 
 readers by his glowing and eloquent delineations ; 
 but no power of mere words could inspire their souls 
 with one of the thoughts or sentiments which the 
 actual beholding of them would produce. 
 
 To illustrate my meaning, I will give an instance. 
 " On the 24th of September, we had such a sky 
 as I have not before seen in Europe — as I never 
 saw surpassed in America. Nor do I look for any 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 315 
 
 thing more glorious in Italy. Such splendid trans- 
 parency, such serenity, such unfathomable depths of 
 ether, such heavens indescribable, seem to me the fit 
 clement in which Mont Blanc, fourteen thousand 
 seven hundred and fifty feet above the sea, should 
 appear, to give the fullest and fittest impression. 
 The evening, too, spread the light of a full moon 
 upon the mountains ; and here were all objects, — 
 snowy peak, bare, sharp pinnacle, rising, a single 
 cone, from its base three thousand feet ; the deep 
 gorge ; the dark fir grove ; the bristling glacier ; the 
 embosomed valley, — every thing of majestic sce- 
 nery that could make such a night an appropriate 
 close to such a day. Surely no fire from heaven, 
 no altars built with hands, could be needed by him 
 who came to worship here. It was one of those 
 seasons of life when you are silent all the day long, 
 and can scarcely sleep at night, from the burden and 
 pressure of thoughts that can find neither utterance 
 nor repose. Tbc next morning we began our return 
 to Geneva. Perhaps it would not be possible that 
 any contrasts in light and shade sboiild surpass those 
 which were presented in the panorama of moun- 
 tains that we left behind us. In the distance lay tbc 
 snowy range of Mont Blanc, beneath the dazzliug 
 splendors of the morning, and there was brightness ; 
 nearer, and on the left, lay mountains covered 
 with fir, which the morning ray had not touched, 
 and there was darkness ; on the right were hills, 
 partly cultivated, partly wooded, on which streamed 
 the rich light of early day, and there was beauty." 
 To me — for I have seen all the objects here men- 
 
olG AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 tioned — the above description, thoiigli as good as 
 words could make it, is ineffably flat, feeble, frigid, 
 and inadequate, it falls so much below the glorious 
 reality. To one unacquainted with them it can no 
 more convey a true image of the original, than a 
 single brick or stone could represent the accurate 
 symmetry, the beautiful and sublime proportions, of 
 St. Peter's Church at Rome. Whilst in Europe, I 
 made notes enough, as to outward and visible things, 
 to fill a volume or two. Wlien I reached home, my 
 intention was to have them arranged and published. 
 But a single incident changed my resolution. I pre- 
 pared as good an account as I could make of some 
 of the most interesting objects which I saw in cross- 
 ing the Alps, accompanied, as it seemed to me, with 
 fit and impressive moralizings. I delivered it from 
 the pulpit, in my own church. Walking homo with 
 one of my warmest friends, a plain, uneducated, but 
 sensible and strong-minded mechanic, who had never 
 travelled, I asked him how he liked my discourse. 
 He said, " that it impressed him as something very 
 splendid and well-sounding, but really he could 
 gather no definite instruction from it." I felt that 
 the criticism was just, and followed its suggestions. 
 ]\ry descriptions of St. Peter's, St. Paul's, Mont 
 Blanc, Snowdon, Arthur's Scat, Menai Bridge, Ab- 
 botsford, Oxford, Cambridge, Hampton Court, Wind- 
 sor Castle, Shakspcarc's birthplace, &c., will never 
 be laid before the public, though in my best judg- 
 ment they are not vastly inferior to the common run 
 of American literature touching these and similar 
 objects of interest which travellers in Europe so 
 much admire. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 817 
 
 I reached London on the last Thursday of June. 
 I had numerous letters of introduction to distin- 
 guished persons, and among them, one to a Unita- 
 rian clergyman, who, at the time of my arrival, was 
 out of the city. It was left at his residence on Fri- 
 day morning ; in the course of the same day, I re- 
 ceived a note from his wife, giving me an urgent 
 invitation to preach for her husband the next Sun- 
 day at eleven o'clock A. M. She observed that Mr. 
 T. was not expected home till a late hour on Satur- 
 day night, and would be most glad to hear, on his 
 arrival, that a brother, fresh from the United States, 
 had consented to preach for him. Although I had 
 not a single manuscript sermon with mc, nor any 
 memoranda adapted to aid memory in the delivery 
 of a discourse, I felt it to be a duty to accept the 
 invitation. My time was divided between company 
 and sight-seeing the whole of Saturday. After din- 
 ner, a gentleman of my acquaintance, and formerly 
 of New Orleans, walked with me to see "Westminster 
 Abbey. By this time, I began to feel no little anxi- 
 ety about the engagement I had made for Sunday 
 morning. My mind was, to be sure, not inert, but 
 so excited and absorbed by the objects and novelties 
 on every side, about which I had read and dreamed 
 so often from my childhood, that I could think of 
 nothing else. As we were about entering the Poets' 
 Corner, I remarked to my friend that I had very 
 foolisldy promised to speak for a clerical brother 
 to-morrow. " I have no sermon in my pocket or head, 
 and it is impossible, at this late hour, to prepare one 
 suitable to the place, hearers, and occasion." He 
 27 * 
 
318 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 replied, " I should think that the inspiration of this 
 memorable spot, these monuments of distinguished 
 statesmen, warriors, scholars, and artists of renown, 
 would suggest to your mind materials enough for a 
 dozen homilies." At this moment, we reached the 
 place where stands the statue of Shakspeare, the 
 arm of which, extended, seems to point the spectator 
 to the following lines : — 
 
 "The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
 The solemn temples, the great globe itself, 
 Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, 
 And, like this insubstantial pageant faded. 
 Leave not a rack behind." 
 
 " Here is a text for you," remarked my friend. 
 The hint struck my mind forcibly, and awakened 
 trains of thought, which in the course of a few hours 
 were moulded into what seemed to me might possibly 
 answer for a sermon, if delivered even with mod- 
 erate graces of style and elocution. Forgetting the 
 extreme shortness of the nights in that latitude, the 
 morning dawn found me walking my room in deep 
 study. I did not leave it till the bells rang for 
 church. I was conducted to the vestry, where I saw 
 for the first time the gentleman whose pulpit I was 
 to occupy. After a moment's conversation, he in- 
 quired, "Have you forgotten your gown?" "I 
 have none," was the answer. No clergyman of any 
 denomination ever preaches in England without a 
 robe. Several were suspended in a recess of the 
 room, of different sizes. - One was selected which I 
 could wear. This difficulty being obviated, my cler- 
 ical friend asked, " Where is your sermon ? " "I 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 319 
 
 have brought none with mc," was the reply. " Good 
 God," he instantly exclaimed, " arc you going be- 
 fore a London audience without a written dis- 
 course ? " " Sir," said I, " for the last twenty-five 
 years it has been my duty to preach regularly to a 
 Unitarian congregation in New Orleans, and I have 
 never taken a manuscript, nor even a note, into the 
 pulpit with me. During all this time, I have not 
 written out fully more than two or three sermons ; 
 and were they this moment in my hands, it Avould be 
 of no avail as to the present emergency. But if you 
 have any misgivings as to my competency, I beg you 
 to allow me to be disrobed, and excused from preach- 
 ing on this occasion. It would be much more agree- 
 able to me to take a scat among your hearers." 
 This proposition he politely declined, and led my 
 way to the pulpit. I was forty-five minutes in de- 
 livering my message. The subject selected was from 
 these words : " Who hath abolished death, and 
 hath brought life and immortality to light through 
 the gospel." 
 
 I preached exactly as if I had been addressing my 
 own people at home. The thoughts which were 
 advanced on the subject of immortality had been 
 essentially familiar to my mind for years, and were 
 therefore uttered with more case and fluency than 
 if they had been read from a manuscript. Most 
 preachers are not aware of the great difference be-- 
 tween written and oral language. The latter mode 
 of communicating ideas is vastly more effective than 
 the former. To be sure, in a set, carefully-composed, 
 manuscript sermon, a minister may ))e more correct 
 
320 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ill his expressions, avoid redundancies and repeti- 
 tions, and use words tliat are perfectly appropriate. 
 Still, though he may be admired as learned and elo- 
 quent, he cannot be so agreeable and persuasive as 
 those who in preaching adopt the easy and natural 
 manner of an unaffected speaker. 
 
 After the services were finished, my friend was 
 pleased to say that he was delighted with my per- 
 formances, and that, if it were in his power, he 
 would adopt a similar style of preaching. It was 
 the first time, he added, that his congregation had 
 ever listened to extemporaneous preaching, and 
 " they were interested, raised up, and carried along 
 with you." One gentleman from New Orleans was 
 present, who had often heard me ; he said this ser- 
 mon was one of my happiest efforts. I was, indeed, 
 much excited. I thought of the antecedent genera- 
 tions who had acted their parts in that great metrop- 
 olis, and were that moment in a higher, nobler, and 
 deathless existei\ce ; and I asked my hearers to look 
 out upon the perspective of that better land, and 
 tell me whether, in their estimation, the evanescent 
 advantages of wealth, rank, and fashion, were the 
 brightest things within our reach ; Avhether there 
 was not something in our horizon more sublime than 
 the attainments of ease, profit, pleasure, or aggran- 
 dizement, which could be enjoyed only for a moment. 
 And, with what seemed to me affecting views of the 
 vanity of human ambition, and the utter worthless- 
 ness of merely mortal possessions, when I summed up, 
 at the conclusion, all that is sublime and tremendous 
 in the prospect of a future destiny, lost in the fath- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 321 
 
 omless abysses of an immortal being, and contrasted 
 it with the shadows, the dreams of earth and time, 
 my feeHngs bore me away, and tears started from 
 the eyes of many persons, whose faces had looked to 
 me previously as cold and immovable as marble stat- 
 ues. My liearers appeared to be deeply stirred, and 
 most of them, as I learned afterwards, were highly 
 cultivated, educated gentlemen — savans, artists, and 
 authors. 
 
 Travelling through Europe,! met with many intel- 
 ligent men, who said they had no faitli in Christian- 
 ity. On conversing more freely with them, I ascer- 
 tained that it was not the absolute truth taught by 
 Jesus which they denied, but only some of those 
 numerous follies, which, througli a long course of 
 ages, have been assumed, by the benighted and su- 
 perstitious, as so many doctrines of Christ and his 
 apostles. If the New Testament were properly ex- 
 plained and understood, there would hardly be an 
 unbeliever in it throughout all Clnnstendom. 
 
 The next day I was invited to dine, with a select 
 company, at the house of the clergyman whose pul- 
 pit I had occupied Sunday morning. I had hardly 
 crossed the threshold of the drawing room before a 
 lady rushed forward and grasped me by the hand, 
 saying, " I do not wonder that you look astonished 
 at what may seem to you an act of rudeness ; but I 
 heard you preach in New Orleans some years ago, 
 and am most happy to greet you in my native city." 
 She had hardly finished her address, before another 
 lady came forward and claimed to be an acquaint- 
 ance on the same e;round. Then a gentleman, whom 
 
322 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 I had never seen before, called me by name, saying 
 that he was acquainted with scores of my relations 
 who resided in the county of Devonshire, where lie 
 was born and lived till he came to London. At this 
 time I was standing on the vestibule of the room, 
 and had not yet had an introduction to the company 
 within. This imceremonious, warm, and friendly 
 treatment, where I had expected to pass as one un- 
 known, moved me even to tears, and I passed through 
 that scene with more freedom, cordiality, and happi- 
 ness, than I ever before experienced in any social 
 circle to which I had been admitted in the United 
 States. I love the English. I love their manners, 
 character, and society. What an illustrious nation ! 
 One fact astonished me, because it was so contrary 
 to all my preconceived ideas. A learned, well-bred 
 Englishman, blessed with a knowledge both of books 
 and the world, is quite as candid, liberal, and un- 
 prejudiced, as any gentleman belonging to the higher 
 and best informed classes of France or the United 
 States. 
 
 While travelling through Great Britain, I heard a 
 considerable number of her most celebrated preachers 
 of different denominations. It was my good fortune 
 to have an opportunity to attend worship one Sab- 
 bath in the chapel of Cambridge University, that 
 ancient and venerable seat of learning. In the course 
 of the day, two sermons were delivered by divines 
 of the highest reputation for piety, learning, and elo- 
 quence. A gentleman who accompanied me, a native of 
 England, and a graduate of one of her universities, 
 remarked, at the close of the day, " that in all his life 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 323 
 
 he had never listened to abler discourses." Suppos- 
 ing his judgment to be correct, I think it no injustice 
 to say that the ordinary style of sermonizing in the 
 United States is not at all inferior to that of the 
 church of England, either as it regards delivery, 
 sound doctrine, literary merit, or the power of mak- 
 ing efficient and salutary impressions on the con- 
 science. I admit that my expectations were raised 
 to the highest pitch, and nothing but superior per- 
 formances could have fully answered their de- 
 mands. 
 
 I will give a sample of the reasoning that character- 
 ized the morning's discourse, which was pronounced 
 by a distinguished doctor of divinity, and a man of 
 extensive scientific acquirements. This sermon had 
 two separate heads, or general divisions. The first 
 undertook to specify the cardinal or leading doc- 
 trines of the Christian religion. It began with the 
 Trinity. The speaker said that one of the strongest 
 proof texts in support of the supreme, absolute di- 
 vinity of Jesus was the 27th verse of Luke, 11th 
 chapter : " And it came to pass, as he spake tlicse 
 things, a certain woman of the company lifted up 
 her voice, and said unto him. Blessed is the icomb 
 that bare thee, and the paps ivhich thou hast svcked." 
 The gist of his argument ran thus : At the time 
 these words were uttered, it was a settled, universal 
 liclief of the Jews, that God was about to appear 
 among them in a human form. This form, of course, 
 must be born of a woman. Under all the circum- 
 stances of the case, in this instance, the calling Mary 
 " Blessed,'" &c., was the same precisely as to say, 
 
324 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 " All hail, mother of our God." Therefore the 
 Son of Mary is the second person in the ever-blessed 
 and adorable Trinity. This may be sound logic in 
 Cambridge University ; it would not satisfy Trinita- 
 rians on this side of the Atlantic. 
 
 Next to the trinity of persons in the Godhead, the 
 orator expatiated on the time-hallowed doctrine of 
 original sin. Under this head the audience was re- 
 galed with the richest fragrance of Calvinism. He 
 solemnly reminded us that the first sin of Adam and 
 Eve, which blasted the immortal bloom and beauty 
 of an earthly paradise, was the source of all the ills 
 to which man is liable, either here or hereafter. 
 Upon this doctrine, he said, rests the superstructure 
 of revealed religion. Then were quoted the follow- 
 ing beautiful lines of Milton : — 
 
 " So sa5'ing, her rash hand, in evil hour, 
 Forth reaching to the fruit, slie phicked, she ate ; 
 Earth felt the wound, and Nature, from her seat, 
 Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe 
 That all was lost." 
 
 "Without the chimerical creations of Dante and Mil- 
 ton, what would become of that system of theology 
 which accepts the Calvinistic idea of the fall of man ? 
 I was surprised to hear tlie bishop assert that the 
 physical evils of every description, which now afflict 
 mankind, are the necessary, legitimate consequences 
 of the original transgression in the garden of Eden. 
 He specified sickness, want, pain, the dissolution of the 
 body, inclemency of weather, the fading of flowers, 
 the suffering and death of brutes, earthquakes and 
 volcanoes, the Ijoisterous ocean, the tempestuous 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 325 
 
 wind, thunder and lightning, all violent, destructive 
 elements, sterility of soil, briers, thorns, and poison- 
 ous reptiles, and laid down the doctrine that all these 
 have proceeded from the eating' of the forbidden 
 fruit. " If our first parents had not sinned," said 
 he, " earth would have been entirely beautiful — an 
 Elysian scene, free from all imperfections, inhabit- 
 ed by beings pure and deathless as the angels of 
 heaven." Alas! alas! that such tempting and dele- 
 terious fruit should have been placed within the reach 
 of the first man and woman, whose conduct was to 
 decide for eternity the fates and fortunes of countless 
 millions then unborn ! He summed up this topic by 
 saying " that the fall of man was not unforeseen nor 
 unprovided for in the arrangements of Infinite Wis- 
 dom ; and that without it Jesus and the glories of 
 his mediation for a ruined world would have had no 
 place in the universe of God." 
 
 When giving his views concerning the Holy Spirit, 
 this doctor of theology, with particular emphasis, 
 cautioned his hearers against the use of reason in 
 interpreting Scripture. " Reason," he told them, 
 " is so dreadfully darkened by the fall, that we can- 
 not be safely guided by its judgments on the subject 
 of religion." What is the use, then, of preaching? 
 What is the use of the Bible itself? Is it not ad- 
 dressed to the reason of mankind — " the divinity 
 that stirs within us"? Scepticism and bigotry are 
 not always distinguished by very distant boundaries, 
 but in many instances seem to sustain to each other 
 the relation of intimate, congenial friends. Both 
 concur in assuring us that we have no natural facul- 
 28 
 
326 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF 
 
 ties which qualify us for the successful iiiTestigation 
 of religious truth. Both affirm that revelation is the 
 antagonist of reason, and cannot be believed without 
 renouncing the noblest and highest powers which 
 God has bestowed upon us. 
 
 Under the second head of his discourse, the posi- 
 tion was maintained in the most unqualified terms, 
 that the only true church in the world is the ecclesi- 
 astical establishment of Great Britain. He said that 
 God had smiled upon England, and had raised her 
 to her present pinnacle of prosperity, because she 
 adhered so faithfully to the only immaculate, genu- 
 ine form of Christianity on earth. " The same age," 
 he remarked, " that beholds the downfall of our na- 
 tional church will also witness the obsequies of our 
 secular empire and glory. Our civilization and 
 church are inseparably associated." A powerful ar- 
 gument, indeed, for the annual disbursement of forty 
 millions of dollars from the public treasury, to feed, 
 clothe, and enrich the only true successors of the 
 apostles ! I was sorry to hear all other denomina- 
 tions (even the Roman Catholics were not except- 
 ed) expressly named only to be denounced and 
 stigmatized as beyond the pale of the Christian 
 church, with nothing to depend upon but what was 
 styled by the orator " tlie uncovenanted mercies of 
 our heavenly Father.''^ The Unitarians came in for 
 the most vehement and especial vituperation. They 
 were called infidels, who, with ineffable audacity, 
 had assumed the Christian name and paraphernalia. 
 
 Tlie above synopsis is a fair representation of the 
 staple thoughts contained in the ablest orthodox ser- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 327 
 
 moil which I heard cliunng my rambles in Europe. 
 The style as to clearness, purity, and precision of 
 language, and the structure of sentences, was fault- 
 less ; . not needlessly overcharged with technical 
 phrases, nor squeamishly avoiding them when the 
 subject required their introduction. The manner of 
 this eminent prelate was calm, quiet, dignified, and 
 polished, but cold as ice. The true church would 
 be shocked by a sermon, however superior in intrin- 
 sic merits, delivered hi the ardent, impassioned tones 
 and manner suited to the eloquence of nature. Of 
 the sincerity of this distinguished preacher I did not 
 entertain a doubt ; but he exhibited a sample of big- 
 otry whicli it is painful to think of. He said there 
 was no power under heaven that could authorize a 
 person to become a teacher of Christianity, and an 
 administrator of its sacraments, but the hierarchy of 
 the Episcopal church ; that if a man should appear 
 in England as wise and holy as the Son of God him- 
 self, he would have no right to preach, baptize, or ad- 
 minister the communion, unless he were ordained by 
 some bishop belonging to the national establishment. 
 In the English preaching which I heard, there 
 were two capital defects. First, it was overshadowed 
 and encumbered with the dismal, chilling, imintelli- 
 giblo dogmas of an obsolete, antiquated, scholastic 
 theology. What interest can this active, enlightened 
 generation feel in the metapliysics of St. Augustine 
 and Athanasius, touching the mysteries of the God- 
 head, original sin, the fall of Adam, supernatural 
 conversion, and the unimaginable glories or terrors 
 of the world eternal. It is time that clergymen 
 
328 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 should every where abjure the folly of wasting their 
 days and talents in worse than useless efforts to 
 fathom the unsearchable, and reconcile contradic- 
 tions. What is wanted in Great Britain is a more 
 simple, popular, earnest, practical style of pulpit 
 communications, showing the important relations of 
 the Christian code to the every-day affairs of life — 
 to commerce, trade, government, pauperism, litera- 
 ture, amusements, ancient usages and customs, and 
 all the nameless diversified scenes, pursuits, and in- 
 terests of mankind this side the grave. In England 
 the Christian minister should have the disinterested- 
 ness and moral independence requisite to enable him 
 to set his face resolutely against all those principles 
 and practices which he considers, in his inmost soul, 
 contrary to sound morals and undefiled religion, 
 however popular, prevailing, or fashionable they 
 may happen to be. 
 
 Again, the English pulpit is lamentably deficient 
 in fervor and pathos, in all those qualities necessary 
 to arouse and kindle the passions. The sacred desk 
 should every where, like that of England, possess 
 large and various knowledge, correctness of taste, 
 fertility of illustration, a clear and copious flow of 
 words ; but these will be of no avail, unless it deep- 
 ly sympathize with all those natural forms of beauty, 
 truth, and goodness, Avhicli strike, charm, and capti- 
 vate the great heart of humanity. The business of a 
 preacher is not so much to convince the understand- 
 ing of his hearers, as to persuade their wills — to 
 communicate to their hearts rapture at the morally 
 beautiful, joy in the true, exultation in the pure 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 329 
 
 and good — those far-reaching sympathies and sub- 
 lime sentiments wliich proclaim our origin divine, 
 and our destination immortal. 
 
 During the last week of June, 1847, I enjoyed 
 several fine opportunities of listening to the best 
 speakers in the Parliament of Great Britain. I 
 heard Lord Brougham, Sir George Bentinck, Lord 
 John Russell, Lord Morpeth, Mr. Disraeh, Mr. 
 Hume, and many others. I will here record a few 
 paragraphs from a note book containing an account 
 of my daily experiences at that time. 
 
 When I first cast my eyes on this far-famed assem- 
 bly, the personal appearance of its members made a 
 deep and quite agreeable impression. Their mien in 
 general is imposing, and highly expressive of the 
 wisdom and refinement which should adorn the rep- 
 resentatives of an ancient, powerful, and splendid 
 nation. English gentlemen present the most perfect 
 model extant, as it regards the proprieties of man- 
 ner, costume, and external bearing. Horace some- 
 where remarks, that a man of great intellectual abil- 
 ities, but of forbidding, uncultivated manners, may 
 be compared to a field possessing a rich soil, yet 
 untilled, its surface rough with weeds, briers, and 
 tliorns. True it is, that a legislator of clownish ap- 
 pearance, slovenly in dress, who mixes the spirting 
 of tobacco juice with the finest sentences which fall 
 from his lips, may be a man of great worth and 
 genuine patriotism. 
 
 The most distinguished talents may be concealed 
 beneath his unpolished exterior. But a moderate 
 share of gentility would not only render him more 
 28* 
 
330 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 agreeable to our perceptions, but also make an im- 
 portant addition to his weight and influence in the 
 scale of usefulness. I regret that my countrymen, 
 when travelling in foreign lands, sometimes act as if 
 they thought it would involve a sacrifice of personal 
 freedom and independence to observe the decorum 
 of time, place, and circumstance, in their intercourse 
 with others. To avoid the least approach to servility 
 on some occasions, they rush into the opposite ex- 
 treme of rudeness, and gross disregard of conven- 
 tional rules and customs, which have an imperative 
 claim to our notice, when they do not conflict with 
 the requirements of morality. For reasons which I 
 cannot now examine, the people in the southern parts 
 of our Union are more mild, gentle, refined, and obU- 
 ging in their manners, not only at home, but abroad, 
 as a general fact, than the inhabitants of the free 
 states, Boston and our other large cities excepted. 
 
 The members of Parliament, as far as I could 
 judge, possess the advantage of a finished education. 
 At any rate, those who spoke when I was present 
 appeared to be perfectly accpiaintcd with the busi- 
 ness that was going on, never wandered from the 
 main point, and advanced only the most apjjropriatc 
 facts and arguments tending to elucidate the subject 
 upon which they were deliberating. Long-winded, 
 rambling orators are never tolerated in the English 
 legislature. They arc put down by concerted noises, 
 such as coughing, stamping with the feet, &c. 
 Hence no one attempts to speak on a subject of 
 which he is ignorant ; but only when he is provided 
 with an ample stock of materials, that have been 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 331 
 
 thoroughly digested and lucidly arranged. Indeed, 
 the condensation of the speakers in Parliament, their 
 close, rigid attention to the business before them, 
 and the beautiful appropriateness of their language 
 were so striking, that on one occasion I listened, with 
 an almost unvaried interest, to a series of speeches on 
 different topics, but mostly of a local character, which 
 were protracted from seven o'clock P. M. till near two 
 the next morning. And I remarked that in those 
 replies, which must have been strictly extemporane- 
 ous, the prominent characteristics were relevance, 
 distinctness, brevity, and wit. Their coruscations 
 of wit were often vivid and irresistible, but always 
 polished and good natured. In a legislator, knowl- 
 edge is power ; and the more copious the fund of his 
 intelligence, the more efficient will be his oratory. 
 When a speaker is full of important, connected facts 
 and arguments touching a given subject, his address 
 may be forcible and persuasive, without the graces 
 of a pleasing voice and elocution. Good sense is the 
 foundation of every species of eloquence, and it can- 
 not be compressed into too small a compass". I have 
 heard a fluent speaker in our Congress, for an hour 
 or two, pouring forth liis loose, vague, indistinct, 
 cloudy abstractions, when the most attentive and 
 enlightened listener could gain no clear, definite 
 conceptions from his pompous, frothy declamation. 
 Such a phenomenon is unknown in the legislature I 
 am speaking of. 
 
 In Parliament, as I saw it, there was one charac- 
 teristic to me alike surprising and inexj)licable. I 
 allude to the invariable deficiency of feeling, the ap- 
 
332 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 parent apathy which distinguished their greatest ora- 
 tors, even when expatiating on topics fitted to arouse 
 the strongest emotions. I should have inferred from 
 their style of speaking that the predominant trait of 
 their minds was stoicism — a calmness of soul as 
 incapable of pain, pleasure, or passion of any kind, 
 as a block of marl)le. In both houses of the Eng- 
 lish legislature there is the finest scope for the most 
 animated species of eloquence ; for that ardor of 
 speech, that vehemence and nobleness of sentiment, 
 which can proceed only from a mind enriched by the 
 elements of science and learning and inspired hy 
 some great and magnificent theme. One night, al- 
 most every word that was uttered related to the 
 passage of a bill that had been introduced primarily 
 to afford relief to the starving poor of Ireland. In 
 the House of Commons the matter underwent a 
 thorough and lengthened discussion. And all the 
 time, to the eye of a spectator, that assembly was 
 still as the Dead Sea. Not a ripple disturbed its 
 glassy, polished surface. Yes, living, breathing men, 
 in the attitude of communicating their ideas on a 
 theme of all others, perhaps, most likely to excite 
 the human mind, were, to appearance, as passionless 
 as those portraits which transmit to us the forms 
 and features of orators that are now no more. I 
 could not but feel the striking difference between the 
 scene before me and the meeting which was held 
 the winter previous in the Commercial Exchange, 
 New Orleans, to devise measures for the relief of suf- 
 fering Ireland. At that meeting the two most promi- 
 nent orators were the late Hon. Henry Clay and 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 333 
 
 S. S. Prentiss, Esq. In the course of their remarks 
 they were so deeply affected as to shed tears, and 
 there was a mutual sympathy between the orators 
 and the audience. We who listened were stirred 
 and carried along with them. Our hearts wept in 
 view of the miseries which they painted. It was 
 enough for us to know that thousands on the other 
 side of the Atlantic, united to us by the ties of a 
 common nature, were perishing for want of food. 
 Prompted by those generous sentiments which make 
 the wants and sorrows of others, however distant, 
 our own, we loaded vessels with the requisite sup- 
 plies, and sent them relief with all possible despatch. 
 But let me not do injustice to the distinguished 
 men of whom I have been speaking. I most fully 
 believe that the apathy to which I have alluded was 
 not real, but only apparent. They cherished in their 
 bosoms the appropriate emotions, but fashion, or 
 something else, forbade the manifestation of them. 
 I was told that they would have exposed themselves 
 to ridicule by speaking in that pathetic, vehement 
 tone which is suited to the American taste. It gives 
 mo pleasure to testify that the orators, on the even- 
 ing before mentioned, with one or two exceptions, 
 admitted the sacred claims of Ireland to English phi- 
 lanthropy. " Ireland," said they, " is not only vis- 
 ited by the judgments of Heaven, (alluding to the 
 himine,) but it is also crushed by the misrule and 
 ()])pression inflicted by the English government for 
 centuries past. We must help her; we will not 
 allow her to perish." One of the members stated, 
 that during that session of Parliament, (1847,) eight 
 
334 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 millions of pounds sterling had been already appro- 
 priated to the relief of the neighboring island, and 
 " now this bill," said he, " calls on us to give for the 
 same object nearly another million. I shall vote for 
 it." Neither the American heart, nor the French 
 heart, nor any other human heart, is in reality 
 more noble, more humane, more generous, or phil- 
 anthropic, than that of those very orators whoso im- 
 perturbable calmness of countenance and manners 
 might lead a stranger to suppose that they wxrc 
 given over to the insensibility of utter, obdurate, in- 
 vincible selfishness, and indifference to the misery of 
 their fellow-beings. Indeed, the almost boundless 
 charities of the English to relieve every species of 
 want and suffering among them, demonstrate the 
 vitality of their religious principles, and that they are 
 quite equal, if not superior, to any other nation in 
 recognition of the claims of our common humanity. 
 The opinion prevails in the United States, that 
 piety is at a very low ebb in the church of England. 
 This is an error. That church is not inferior to any 
 other on earth in fulfilling God's command to do 
 good to all men, without distinction ; in toiling and 
 suffering for the cause of human progress ; in diffus- 
 ing freedom, virtue, and intelligence ; in relieving 
 the poor; in succoring the fallen, the orphan, and 
 the widow ; in breaking the yoke of the enslaved 
 and down-trodden ; in sending the Bible all over the 
 globe ; and in redeeming our misguided, unhappy 
 race from the countless forms of sin and woo. The 
 chm-ch of Oxford, and Eomc too, are not below their 
 neighbors in genuine holiness ; they comprehend 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 335 
 
 within their limits millions, who, according to the 
 measure of their knowledge and means, are sin- 
 cerely striving to be conformed to the will of the 
 common Father of us all, and obey the precepts of 
 his Son. Some seem to think that when an assembly 
 worships with harmonics of splendid music, fumes 
 of incense, ancient liturgies, and a gorgeous ceremo- 
 nial, it cannot be pure and holy in the sight of God. 
 But they who look below the surface which the 
 church militant presents to a superficial eye, and 
 who are not bewildered by the din and confusion of 
 conflicting sects, creeds, and diversities of forms, 
 know that men who differ ever so much in opinions 
 and rites may nevertheless feel in their hearts as 
 becomes Christians, and gaze with admiration, grati- 
 tude, and hope, on the divine and benignant image 
 of that Redeemer who has tasted death for every 
 member of Adam's race. 
 
 Some one has said, our minds are steeped in im- 
 agery, and where the visible form is not, the impal- 
 pable spirit escapes the notice of an ignorant, unre- 
 flecting multitude. Cuvier could trace the sublime 
 unity, the universal type, the central idea, existing in 
 the creative intelligence, which connects as one the 
 mammoth and the snail. So profound Catholic ob- 
 servers can perceive the holy unity that pervades 
 all those of every name and denomination, who 
 " confess with their lips the Lord Jesus, and believe 
 in their hearts that God hath raised him from the 
 dead." As to church organization and forms, to be 
 sure I have my preferences, and indulge them ; but 
 I should be chars-cable with one of the most dcbasino- 
 
380 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 forms of bigotry, if I thought that one denomination 
 was any more acceptable to God than anotlier. 
 Whoever worships the Fatlier with sincerity of in- 
 tention will be blessed, though he kneel before the 
 altar with a mind darkened with vidgar superstitions, 
 unfounded fears, narrow prejudices, and vain imagin- 
 ings. The different sects in Christendom have no 
 just reason to look upon one another with unfriend- 
 liness, antipathy, and discord. " I admire," says 
 Dr. Channing, " the venerable names of Thomas a 
 Kempis, Fenelon, and Cheverus, of the Romish 
 church ; I admire the names of Latimer, Hooker, 
 Barrow, Heber, Milton, Newton, John Locke, and 
 Samuel Clark. They breathe a fragrance through 
 the common air ; they lift up the whole race to which 
 they belonged towards the illimitable heavens. With 
 the churches of which they were pillars and chief 
 ornaments I have the warmest sympathies. To con- 
 fine God's love, or his good spirit, to any sect, party, 
 or particular church, is to sin against the fundamen- 
 tal law of the kingdom of God, to break that living 
 bond with Christ's universal church, which is one of 
 our most important helps to perfection." 
 
 When I was in St. Peter's Church, Rome, on a 
 beautiful Sunday morning in July, 1847, the Lord's 
 Prayer, in Latin, was repeated by the priest who Avas 
 officiating at one of the altars. Nothing which I 
 ever heard uttered in a church affected me more 
 deeply. "Our Father," <fcc., — that is the Father 
 of all. These words inspired me w^th the thouglit 
 that mankind are indeed one, — one in origin, in 
 birth, in life, in love, in sulTering, in death, — one, 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 337 
 
 too, ill hope of that inheritance incorruptible, uncle- 
 filed, and unfading, through Christ, reserved in 
 heaven for all the countless millions of woman born. 
 The love of which tlie cross is the emblem is as un- 
 circumscribed as that of the Lord's prayer. It ena- 
 bles us to look beyond the shadows and sorrows of 
 mortality, to a future existence of endless and ever- 
 progressive glory, in which all mankind will event- 
 ually participate. " Uniformity of creeds, of disci- 
 pline, of ritual, and of ceremonies, in such a world 
 as ours ! a world where no two men are not as dis- 
 tinguishable in their mental as in their physical 
 aspect ; where all that meets the eye, and all that 
 arrests the ear, has the stamp of boundless and infi- 
 nite variety ! What are the harmonies of tone, of 
 color, and of form, but the results of contrasts — 
 contrasts held in subordination to one pervading 
 principle, which reconciles, without confounding, the 
 component elements of the music, the painting, or 
 the structure ? Just so in the spiritual works of 
 God : beauty could have no existence without endless 
 diversities." The human constitution is so organized, 
 that honest men, however enlightened, are compelled 
 to form dissimilar views of divine truth as long as 
 they live in the body. Honest men can no more 
 think alike than they can look alike. Truth is God's 
 law, indeed ; but if all will profess to think exactly 
 alike about it, all must be hypocrites, and live a life 
 of habitual falsehood. How cold, dull, deformed, 
 uninteresting, even hateful, would be a community 
 in which there was no difference of opinion on moral 
 and religious themes ! There are no more nor other 
 29 
 
338 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 forms of Christianity among men than are wanted. 
 Their existence demonstrates their necessity. Nor 
 has any particular form a right to arrogate to itself 
 precedence or superiority over their neighbors. 
 
 I can enjoy the communion of any church where 
 the Lord's Prayer is understood and sincerely 
 adopted ; where the worshippers are taught to believe 
 that God is not almighty wrath, but an infinite Par- 
 ent, who introduced them into this world without 
 their consent, and has watched over them in all their 
 past vicissitudes of sickness and health, joy and sor- 
 row, and who will continue to take care of them — 
 be the friend, strength, and portion of their spirits 
 through the serene, unclouded, eternal processions 
 of a heavenly state. I feel at home in any church 
 where I see a banner floating aloft above its dome, on 
 which is inscribed the motto, God our Father, Man 
 OUR Brother, Jesus Christ our Redeemer. 
 
 I went into churches of every denomination when 
 travelling in Europe, from the Roman Catholic to 
 the Unitarian, was permitted to commune in all, and 
 felt that the " Holy of Holies " was in each of those 
 communions ; that in each were humble, sincere, 
 thankful Christians, bearing faithfully the trials of 
 their lot, forgiving their bitterest enemies, shedding 
 the tear of sympathy at the sight of a neighbor's 
 suffering, toiling with disinterestedness to relieve it, 
 and transported by a hope in Christ triumphant 
 over time, nature, death, and the grave. Religion 
 is flourishing all over Europe, not excepting Ger- 
 many. Things may appear the reverse to superficial 
 observers. Since Christ expired on the cross, his 
 cause has been progressing every hour. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 339 
 
 We sometimes feel inclined to despondency, when 
 we see scepticism in the pulpit, or the professor's cliair, 
 or in the circulating literature of our times. But 
 we forget that by these very means the glorious 
 cause of revealed religion is carried forward. Look 
 through the annals and eras of the past, and behold 
 when the church seemed to human view to be de- 
 livered completely into the hands of its enemies, it 
 was only undergoing a transition to a higher and 
 more brilliant state. When Jesus was laid in the 
 tomb, to mortal eye annihilated, then was the most 
 signal triumph of the cross. No events can retard 
 or retrograde the advancement of God's truth. If 
 the Bible is divine, no real adversity can befall the 
 church. Tlie church can no more fail, nor be re- 
 tarded, than the eternal Cause that breathed it into 
 existence. All storms, all waves that beat upon it, 
 all the wrath and opposition of men, are the instru- 
 mentalities which Providence uses to promote its 
 dcvclo[)mcnt and prosperity. 
 
 I was very anxious not only to see, but to converse 
 with some of the most celebrated scholars and au- 
 thors of Great Britain. Mr. Bancroft, the historian, 
 who was then oar ambassador at the court of St. 
 James, afforded me all the attention and civilities in 
 liis power. I was especially desirous to become per- 
 sonally acquainted with Thomas Carlyle. Mr. Ban- 
 croft told me that it would be impossible for me to 
 obtain an introduction to him except at one of his 
 evening levees, because he spent every morning in 
 bis study, and received no visitors until after dinner. 
 " But these levees are always crowded," said he. 
 
340 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 " and allow no opportunities for extended conver- 
 sation." As he had called my countrymen a nation 
 of bores, I concluded to assume the character and 
 impudence which the term designates. Mr. Carlyle 
 resided two miles from Morley's Hotel, where I had 
 lodgings. I was told that his breakfast hour was 
 eight o'clock. I found my way to his dwelling one 
 morning, when the clock was striking nine, with let- 
 ters from distinguished men on both sides of the 
 Atlantic. A lady, with a very intelligent appearance, 
 met me at the door. I said to her, " I have called 
 this morning to see Mr. Carlyle : is he at home ? " 
 She replied, " Mr. Carlyle has just entered his study, 
 and no gentleman can see him this morning. If the 
 Queen of England should now call here and request 
 an interview with him, it would not be granted." I 
 then asked her if she could oblige me by carrying a 
 written message to his study. " With pleasure," 
 said she. I sat down and wrote with a pencil the 
 following words. " Dear sir : No gentleman, but a 
 man, is at your door, — a Unitarian, a Yankee, a dem- 
 ocrat, and a radical, all the way from the banks of the 
 Mississijipi ; a careful reader and great admirer of 
 Mr. Carlylo, — and begs the favor of a short interview, 
 which must be granted nom, or never this side the 
 grave." I sent my letters along with this scrawl. 
 Directly the invitation came : " Walk up, sir ; I shall 
 be happy to see you." 
 
 I was received in the most kind and unceremoni- 
 ous manner. The topics on which we conversed 
 were so numerous that I have not room even to 
 mention them. The colloquial style of this gentle- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 341 
 
 man is plain, easy, natural, and unaffected, and 
 bears no resemblance to that of his later writings ; 
 has none of those qualities commonly called tran- 
 scendental. Our conversation was protracted till 
 afternoon. Though I rose several times to depart, 
 he insisted upon my staying longer so earnestly, that 
 I acceded to his wishes. Much of the time Avas 
 spent in answering his inquiries concerning the sta- 
 tistics of the United States, the peculiarities of our 
 government, laws, manners, schools, churches, litera- 
 ture, &c. He professed to be much gratified with the 
 information which I gave him in regard to these sub- 
 jects. He was very particular in his questions about 
 slavery, and the narratives of the terrible sufferings 
 to which African bondmen are habitually subjected 
 in our country. The real facts appertaining to the 
 case, as I stated them, were in direct antagonism to 
 all the representations of anti-slavery writers and 
 orators which he had seen. He was rejoiced to hear 
 that the slaves in our Southern States were well fed 
 and clothed, not over-worked, and mercifully treated 
 in all respects. I told him that they were quite as 
 well off, both as to their temporal and spiritual in- 
 terests, as any class of operatives, either in the field 
 or shop, that existed in Great Britain or any part of 
 continental Europe. 
 
 He then uttered words nearly as follows : " From 
 what you say, — and I cannot doubt the correctness 
 of your statements, — it seems that slavery, as it exists 
 in your republic, is a subject enveloped in the thick 
 mists of ignorance, prejudice, and misrepresentation. 
 It is indeed true that not more than fifty years ago our 
 29 * 
 
342 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 own merchants were employed in transporting native 
 Africans to your shores for sale. It is true that 
 Great Britain originated the system when you were 
 colonies, under her influence and jurisdiction. At 
 the same time the ships of New England were de- 
 voted to the odious traffic. The Southern States 
 were never engaged in the slave trade. To he sure, 
 they purchased the captives whom we sent to them, 
 because they were exactly fitted by nature for the 
 climate, and because they believed, as every body 
 then did, in the entire rectitude of such exchanges. 
 I understand what you say — that southern planters 
 cannot possibly manumit their slaves immediately 
 without involving them in ntter perdition. It is 
 their duty to keep them in bondage for the present, 
 till it please Providence to open a way for their exal- 
 tation to a higher state. The blame of African 
 bondage in your land, if blame there be, belongs 
 chiefly to us. We set up the institution among you 
 by the force of law, even against your desire and 
 earnest remonstrances. And we are doing all in our 
 power to foster and perpetuate it. We live by slave 
 labor. What feeds our immense cotton manufacto- 
 ries ? Destroy them, and we should be ruined. All 
 those communities that use the cotton, rice, sugar, 
 coffee, etc., produced by slave labor, arc just as mucli 
 implicated in the wrong as slaveholders themselves, 
 and just as criminal in the sight of God. In tlie 
 guilt of slavery, as things are, the whole civilized 
 world participates. How unjust, then, the reproaches 
 and vituperation poured out upon you, for a state of 
 things which was forced upon you by an inevital)le 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 343 
 
 providence, and the cancelling of which is out of 
 your power ! The principle, I admit, is wrong ; 
 ' but let him who is without sin cast the first stone.' 
 It is idle, it is worse than idle, for one to indulge in 
 acrimonious declamation against African slavery in 
 the United States, who is unable to specify any feasi- 
 ble method of abolishing it." 
 
 Such was the strain in which this far-seeing, just, 
 and noble man expressed ideas touching slavery, 
 which must appear true and beautiful, I should think, 
 to every candid, impartial, and enlightened mind. 
 And all the anti-slavery men with whom I conversed 
 in England, spoke on the same subject in the accents 
 of a calm, gentle, humane, profound, and considerate 
 philosophy. They are free from that spirit of harsh- 
 ness, invective, and denunciation, which character- 
 ize, almost invariably, the effusions of American ab- 
 olitionists. 
 
 We have few literary men, who, in depth, com- 
 pass, dnd variety of learning, can be compared with 
 such' scholars as Macaulay, Martineau, Beard, Car- 
 lyle, and many others of the same description. In 
 my judgment, Ralph Waldo Emerson has as much 
 acquaintance with literature, and is as great a 
 thinker, as any person in Europe. The Hon. Ed- 
 ward Everett, and Mr. Bancroft, the historian, be- 
 long to the same category. Outside of the circle of 
 my acquaintance are scores, perhaps, of educated 
 Americans, who are entitled to be placed upon the 
 same platform with the distinguished men just 
 named. But as a general fact, our scholars and 
 professional men are sadly deficient in culture. The 
 
344 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 clergymen whom I saw in England do not confine 
 themselves to the study of theology, but are con- 
 versant in every department of learning. They are 
 not so showy as a certain class of ministers in the 
 United States. They have not the same knack of 
 dressing up trite and commonplace thoughts witli 
 those ornaments of style which are most fitted to 
 attract the gaze of an ignorant, unreflecting crowd. 
 But they are more solid, lay more stress upon their 
 matter than manner, and prefer the plain, simple, 
 manly, and strong, to the empty, foppish, gaudy, and 
 superficial. American literature is too often diluted, 
 unoriginal, adapted to secure the ephemeral apj)lause 
 of the day, rather than to command lasting and uni- 
 versal admiration. 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 345 
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 SOME FURTHER PARTICULARS WITH REGARD TO MY IN- 
 TERVIEW WITH MR. CARLYLE. ERRONEOUS IMPRES- 
 SIONS PREVALENT AMONG THE WISE MEN OP EUROPE 
 CONCERNING THE UNITED STATES. — THE ALPS. 
 
 The news of Dr. Chalmers's death, the great divine 
 of Scotland, had just been received. Reference was 
 made to the ojjinion expressed in his Bridgewater 
 Treatise, that all which we call evil is phenomenal 
 only — the necessary means of something in itself 
 good ; or, as R. W. Emerson has expressed it, " Evil 
 is good in the process of formation — good in em- 
 bryo, in incubation." " Dr. Chalmers," said Mr. 
 Carlyle, " was as good as he was great. His heart 
 was expanded, and in conversation he often uttered 
 sentiments which are directly at variance with the 
 dogmas of the church to which he belonged. I en- 
 joy an extended personal acquaintance with minis- 
 ters of various denominations in England and Scot- 
 land. Neither in nor out of the pulpit have I ever 
 heard one argue in favor of the doctrine of endless 
 evil. I am satisfied that no intelligent clergyman 
 among us embraces it. It is a melancholy fact, that 
 until the present century, a great majority of pro- 
 fessedly Christian teachers represented the Almighty 
 Being as decreeing and delighting in human misery. 
 How inexplicable that educated men, closing their 
 eyes against the irresistible evidence of unbounded 
 
346 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 goodness and power in the natural world around 
 and within them, should make themselves believe 
 that final, hopeless, remediless misery is the grand, 
 sublime consummation of the Creator's moral achieve- 
 ments ! The horrid doctrine is not to be found in 
 the New Testament. There is no intimation given, 
 in any part of the Scriptures, of a doom so inscru- 
 table, and so repugnant to those inevitable ideas 
 which we all entertain of the divine perfections. It 
 is certain that the Greek word aionios, which is 
 sometimes applied to punishment in the gospel, does 
 not prove its eternity. For througliout Greek litera- 
 ture, sacred and profane, it is often employed to 
 signify a limited duration." 
 
 When speaking about the Athanasian creed, he 
 remarked, " The doctrine of three persons in the 
 Godhead had no existence in the primitive church 
 till after the Council of Nice. The question of de- 
 Ijate at that meeting did not relate to the equality 
 of the Son with the Father. This idea was not then 
 advocated by any divine in Christendom. It was 
 universally admitted that Jesus was inferior to God 
 himself The subject of discussion in that far-famed 
 assembly amounted to this : Was the Son formed 
 out of the very substance of the supreme Jehovah, 
 or was his spiritual nature essentially the same as 
 that of angels, or that of Adam before he had 
 sinned ? This was a thesis sufficiently subtile and 
 absurd, to be sure, but it was infinitely removed 
 from the Athanasian theory concerning the God- 
 head." 
 
 The last thing published by Dr. Chalmers, Init a 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 347 
 
 few days before his decease, was a letter in which he 
 expressed his opinion, that tlic Christian religion 
 cannot be permanently prosperous in any country, 
 without the support of legislative enactment. " Con- 
 versing on this subject," he said, " it was remarked 
 by an intelligent American whom he had met in 
 London, that more persons, in proportion, resort to 
 some place for religious worship every Sabbath, in 
 our republic, than in any other civilized land on tlie 
 face of the globe. A little band of pioneers go into 
 the wilderness to subdue it — to spread around them 
 green pastures, cultivated fields, blooming gardens 
 and orchards, with all the charms and luxuries tliat 
 follow in their train. They build their cabins, and 
 begin to fell the trees. Almost at the same instant 
 the log school house and church spring into exist- 
 ence." He subjoined these words : " It would, no 
 doubt, be best that church and state should every 
 where be completely divorced. Men in all grades 
 and conditions of life, barbarous and civilized, have 
 their gods to whom they flee for help in their hours 
 of weakness, peril, or suffering. If unacquainted 
 with the God of the Bible, they will carve out an 
 idol, an image of brass, marble, or some other sub- 
 stance, and repair to its altar for protection. Some 
 repose their confidence in the sun, the moon, or 
 stars ; in beast, bird, tree, reptile, or insect. Thus, 
 through every land, from every temple and altar, 
 from every bleeding victim, and from every prayer, 
 a voice proclaims that every man, however vague or 
 erring his notions of spiritual truth may be, must 
 betake himself to some real or imaginary divinity in 
 
348 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 scenes of weakness, change, sorrow, disease, and 
 death. Worship, then, is enforced upon the children 
 of men by inevitable laws. 
 
 " It is the dictate of our nature. The principles of 
 of piety are deeply founded in the human mind. It 
 is no less essential to us than to possess the attri- 
 butes of speech and reason. The most sceptical and 
 misanthropic person must trust in something supe- 
 rior to himself ; and that object of trust is to him 
 divine. The influences best calculated to refine and 
 moralize mankind are education, domestic training, 
 parental example, literature, the customs and fash- 
 ions of society, and the Sabbath, with all its beauti- 
 ful, hallowed ceremonies. Mere arbitrary law is an 
 odious thing in the sight of all the world. The mass 
 of any people will therefore look with suspicion and 
 dislike upon a church which is identified with the 
 civil government. The voluntary system is vastly 
 preferable to any of those that recognize the recti- 
 tude and expediency of coercion in matters of faith. 
 It is just as absurd to vote that men shall be religious 
 at all, or in any particular way, as to vote that they 
 shall be initiated into tlie science of fluxions, mathe- 
 matics, or natural philosophy." 
 
 Mr. Carlyle, speaking of modern poetry, said that, 
 " although Wordsworth was not so popular, so gener- 
 ally read and admired as many of his contemporaries, 
 yet he ascended to the highest grounds ever occu- 
 pied by poetic genius. In his writings are sounded 
 some of the noblest strains of poetry recorded in 
 ancient or modern literature. No author is more 
 original, happy, and delicate in the use of metaphors 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 849 
 
 and comparisons." Several instances were quoted, 
 one of wliicli seemed to me so transcendently noble, 
 that I will give it a place here. Wordsworth de- 
 scribes the tendency of human life to beautify man's 
 nature in the following lines : — 
 
 " As the ample moon, 
 In the deep stillness of a summer even. 
 Kising behind a thick and lofty grove. 
 Burns, like an unconsuming fire of light. 
 In the green trees ; and kindling on all sides 
 Their leafy umbrage, turns the dusky veil 
 Into a substance glorious as her owii ; 
 Yea, with her own incorporate, by power 
 Capacious and serene, — like power abides 
 In man's celestial spirit ; Virtue thus 
 Sets forth and magnifies herself; thus feeds 
 A calm, a beautiful, and silent fire. 
 From the encumbrances of mortal life. 
 From even disappointment — nay, from guilt; 
 And sometimes, so relenting Justice wills. 
 From palpable oppressions of despair." 
 
 The philosophy contained in these words came 
 from the Bible. It is the great, immutable truth often 
 expatiated upon by the sacred writers, that all events 
 are made to subserve the march of knowledge and 
 happiness ; that by all which happens through the 
 years, ages, centuries, and cycles of time, tliat by 
 all the ordinances, appointments, fates, vicissitudes, 
 sins, and sufferings of our earthly allotments, only 
 great, everlasting, and beneficent results arc accom- 
 plished. 
 
 " Respecting man, whatever wTong we call 
 May, must be right, as relative to all." 
 
 Or, to use the ideas of Emerson, in his profound 
 work, " Representative 3Ien,''^ " That pure maligni- 
 30 
 
850 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ty can exist, is the extreme proposition of nnbelief. 
 It is not to be entertained by a rational agent ; it is 
 atheism ; it is the last profanation. 
 
 ' Goodness and being in the gods are one ; 
 He who imputes ill to them makes them none.' 
 
 To what a painful perversion has that theology ar- 
 rived which admits no conversion for evil men here- 
 after ! But the influence of the Holy Spirit is never 
 relaxed ; the power of the sun will convert carrion 
 itself into grass and flowers ; and man, though now 
 in dungeons, or jails, or on gibbets, is in a state of 
 preparation for all the beauty and bliss of which he 
 is capable. Atheism is not so dreadful as that vin- 
 dictive theology which peoples an Inferno with devils 
 utterly depraved and incorrigible. Every thing is 
 superficial, and perishes, but love and truth only. 
 The largest is always the truest sentiment. Every 
 man can exclaim, — 
 
 ' Immortality o'erswecps 
 All pains, all tears, all sins, all fears, 
 And peals like the eternal tliimdcrs of the deep 
 Into my ears this truth — Thou liv'st forever.' " 
 
 The most painful sight which I saw in England 
 was the great inequalities which mark the different 
 classes of society. The established church is pro- 
 verbially rich. Wealth in itself should never be re- 
 garded as an evil, either as it respects individuals or 
 communities. The ministers of religion cannot be 
 too opulent, provided they make a beneficent use of 
 their means. In this instance the evil arises from a 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 351 
 
 most unrighteous distribution of the funds appropri- 
 ated for the support of religion. The bishops liave 
 princely incomes. The inferior clergy, who do all 
 the preaching and parochial labor, are in the main 
 very poor, and sometimes straitened for the neces- 
 saries of life. If the annual disbursements of the 
 English government on behalf of Christianity were 
 divided equally among its ministers, each man would 
 receive only about five hundred dollars a year, which 
 is not larger than the average salary paid to clergy- 
 men in the United States. It appears hard that tbe 
 dissenters should be compelled to contribute towards 
 the maintenance of the establishment, besides sup- 
 porting their own institutions. It seems to be the 
 most flagrant injustice and iniquity that six or seven 
 thousand persons — the younger sons of noblemen — 
 should receive their livings from the chiirch funds, 
 who never perform clerical duties. They hold their 
 stations as benefices, or sinecures. Besides, they arc 
 often openly, desperately depraved and dissolute. 
 
 Here I would remark that the opinion most prevalent 
 in this country concerning the character of the Eng- 
 lish bishops is altogether erroneous. When will men 
 learn to do justice to their fellow-beings ? Although 
 these prelates have large revenues, and are surround- 
 ed with a temporal splendor, which, in the eyes of a 
 plain democrat from this western world, may ap- 
 pear utterly irreconcilable with the character of a 
 gospel minister, as described by Paul in his Epistles 
 to Timothy and Titus, yet for the most part they are 
 humble, self-denying, noble men, worthy to be con- 
 sidered as the successors of the apostles. To be sure, 
 
852 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 some melancholy exceptions might be mentioned ; but 
 bad men arc found in every hierarchy under heaven. 
 I admire and honor the English church, that during 
 the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and that 
 portion of the nineteenth already elapsed, has stood 
 forth like an impregnable fortress against the assaults 
 of infidelity, a spiritual promontory, on which the 
 storms and waves of opposition have expended their 
 fury in vain. Ever since we ceased to be colonies, 
 some dissenters among us have cherished the most 
 bitter and unfounded prejudices against Episcopacy. 
 No church in this republic is more useful or glorious. 
 It is a haven of repose, whither the calm, intelligent, 
 and refined of all the dissenting denominations may 
 repair, and find a refuge, after having been tossed, 
 perhaps for years, on the boisterous sea of theologi- 
 cal strife. Not a minister of this denomination has 
 ever been known to pervert the gospel by making his 
 pulpit the arena of political huckstering, forgetting 
 the fundamental precepts of Christ — the merciful 
 designs and charitable spirit of his mission — to deal 
 out falsehoods, bitterness, and vituperation, instead of 
 the gospel, to subserve the vilest purposes of unscru- 
 pulous ambition and depravity. 
 
 The American traveller in England, I have before 
 said, is continually pained with those disparities of 
 condition and marked contrasts which arise from an 
 aristocracy established by law from entailed estates 
 and hereditary titles to honor and power. The 
 whole west end of London shows like a city of the 
 gods ; St. Giles, Wapping, and other sections are 
 filled with squalor and the cxtrcmcst wretchedness, 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. Sbo 
 
 whose inhabitants seem more like devils than human 
 beings. In these districts, I was told that children 
 grow up not only crushed and blighted by destitu- 
 tion, but taught to believe that lying, theft, licen- 
 tiousness, and kindred vices are right and honorable. 
 Are they to blame, then, if they put on terrific attri- 
 butes, bid defiance to morality, or even imbrue their 
 hands in blood ? They know no better. They arc 
 not to blame, but the society is which tolerates such 
 a state of pauperism and ignorance. In London 
 there are thirty thousand persons, perhaps, or more, 
 who live in all the luxuries and magnificence which 
 their imagination can devise, and there are quite as 
 many who know not when they rise in the morning 
 where they shall lay their heads at night. 
 
 When in Liverpool, I went one morning to visit an 
 extensive park, more than twenty miles in circum- 
 ference. In it were lawns smoothly shaven, avenues 
 of majestic trees, and gardens presenting every va- 
 riety of vegetable beauty. It was a perfect paradise. 
 The stately mansion of its owner, through long 
 ranges of splendid apartments, is filled with the 
 works of art and the creations of luxury, with paint- 
 ings and statues, with silken couches, gorgeous fur- 
 niture, and costly libraries, exhibiting a scene of 
 magnificence hardly surpassed by the grandeurs rep- 
 resented in the pages of Arabian romance. Througlu 
 out England, travelling in any direction, every few 
 miles you come across these magnificent domains 
 belonging to the aristocracy. Indeed, they own 
 nearly all the land in Great Britain. Consequently 
 the surface of England presents scenes of splendor, 
 30* 
 
354 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 which makes the stranger feel as if he ■were journey- 
 ing through some fairy land. 
 
 In Enghmd, about thirty-two thousand persons 
 out of a population of thirty-two millions, possess 
 aristocratic wealth and honors. Eight or ten mil- 
 lions own the entire property of Great Britain, Loth 
 real and personal. The remaining twenty-four 
 millions are paupers, doomed to severe, unintcrmit- 
 tcd, crushing toil through life, in order to obtain a 
 bare subsistence. From infancy their food is of the 
 poorest kind, and insufficient in quantity. Millions 
 of them feel the pain of unsatisfied hunger perhaps 
 every moment during their waking hours. They 
 are half clothed ; and cold, wet weather is to them a 
 scene of constant suffering. They cannot read or 
 write, and are cut off from the endearments, joys, 
 and blessings of domestic life. Their domicile is a 
 hedge or a hovel. In mind they are inert, stupid, 
 and mean beyond any specimens of humanity that 
 have fallen under my observation elsewhere, either 
 in the old or new world, cither white or black. 
 Strolling one day along the banks of the Avon, I 
 accosted a peasant who was engaged in haying. 
 Among other questions, I asked him the name of the 
 stream on whose bank we stood. He replied that 
 he did not know. On further inquiry, I found that 
 he was born in that neighborhood, and had been a 
 laborer in those fields for more than forty years. 
 When sickness, age, infirmity, and decrepitude over- 
 take them, they are conducted to the poorhouse, and 
 breathe their last with no one to shed the tear of 
 sympathy. They are followed by others who run the 
 same round of wretchedness and almost brutal dco- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 3o5 
 
 radation. So it has been for a long scries of ages — 
 from time immemorial. This description is applica- 
 ble to eight or ten millions of persons. 
 
 Now, such a state of things, as all admit, — such a 
 depression of the many to exalt the few, — is the result 
 of feudal aristocracy, the transmission of hereditary 
 honor, entailed estates, &c., factitious distinctions, 
 created and upheld by the theory of the English 
 government. " If any one can doubt about the es- 
 sential injustice of this system, let him go back in 
 his thoughts to the origin of society. Let me ask 
 him to suppose that he, with a thousand other })er- 
 sons, all standing upon terms of c(iuality, were al)out 
 to reconstruct society, or to establish a colony on 
 some distant shore. Suppose this company assem- 
 bled, at the commencement of their enterprise, to 
 form a civil constitution ; at this meeting, they all 
 stand upon the same level. Now, imagine ion of 
 these colonists to propose that they shoidd be made 
 earls or lords ; that they should be made an hereditary 
 branch of the legislature, with a negative upon the 
 wishes and interests of all the rest ; and that, in order 
 to secure their permanent respectability, they sho\ild 
 be permitted to hold their estates in entail — a prop- 
 osition very pleasant and palatable to the ten, doubt- 
 less ; but could the rest of the company listen to it ? 
 I put it to the veriest tory in the world, whether, as 
 one of that company, he would listen to it ; I put it 
 to him to say, whether he would consent that lots 
 shoTild be cast to determine on whom the mantle of 
 nobility should fall." * 
 
 * Dr. Dewey. 
 
356 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 Attending a dinner party at the residence of a 
 wealthy banker of London, I had a good deal of 
 conversation with a very learned man, who was a 
 graduate of Cambridge University, but had never 
 travelled the distance of one hundred miles from the 
 metropolis. To him England was of course the 
 cynosure of nations, a perfect model as to civil gov- 
 ernment, laws, literature, manners, church, and all 
 else that belong to civilized life. He was saturated 
 with knowledge of books and theories, and so purely 
 English in his tastes and prepossessions, that his 
 conversation was rich, lively, and entertaining. His 
 prejudices against republican forms of government 
 were so strong, that I did 2iot venture to utter a syl- 
 lable by way of their defence or explanation. He said 
 " it was a Utopian dream that any nation could enjoy 
 permanent order and prosperity without a throne, an 
 established church, and a privileged, hereditary class 
 of nobles. The people are the base of the social 
 superstructure ; the lords, temporal and spiritual, 
 are tlie pillars which support this edifice, the columns 
 and Corinthian capitals by which it is adorned. 
 
 " Where are the republics of former times ? Where 
 is Athens of old, tlie birthplace of democracy, the 
 spot first consecrated to freedom, where the arts and 
 graces danced around man in his cradle, bound his 
 head with laurel wreaths, built for him cities, tem- 
 ples, theatres, statues, and tombs, and irradiated the 
 pages of literature with the light of genius ? A 
 monarchy, an establishment, and an aristocracy like 
 ours would have made Greece eternal. But now 
 she is a mere vision, existing only in the fanciful 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. ' 357 
 
 schemes of political dreamers, and flashing upon the 
 pages of history — 
 
 ' Like the rainbow's lovely form, 
 Evanishing amid the storm.' 
 
 Your republic has lasted a little more than half 
 a century, because you have a widely-extended 
 territory and a sparse population. But when you 
 shall have as many inhabitants on a square mile 
 as England contains, what will prevent the igno- 
 rant, vulgar, reckless, unprincipled, and impov- 
 erished rabble from laying violent hands on the 
 possessions of their neighbors, and subverting the 
 sacred rights of property ? Indeed, upon the prin- 
 ciple of universal suffrage, they can appropriate to 
 themselves the estates and chattels of the wealthy 
 witliout open violence. It may be done under the 
 a^gis of your laws and constitution. The majority, 
 if it pleases, every five years, will be able to enforce 
 an agrarian division of property by the ballot-i)OX ; 
 and where property is insecure, civilization will soon 
 die out." 
 
 It is almost impossible for an untravelled English- 
 man to realize that property is nowhere perfectly 
 safe but under a government like ours, which enables 
 tlie poorest man, if healthy, to become a landholder, 
 to live in his own house, and to possess in fee simple 
 whatever is essential to his subsistence and comfort. 
 Tlie great body of the people here — nine out of ten 
 — have a spirit of contentment and independence, 
 because in possession of a reasonable competence. 
 When I hear men talk about the danger of their 
 
358 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 rising, in fury and madness, to destroy that very ten- 
 ure, that very security, upon which their own posses- 
 sions rest, their words seem to me dreamy and chi- 
 merical. It supposes that will happen which the 
 laws of human nature render impossible ; that men 
 may enter into a conspiracy to sweep into the pit of 
 ruin themselves, their wives, their children, their 
 houses, their lands, and all that is dear to them on 
 earth. To pass an agrarian law in such a country as 
 this, would be striking a blow that must so certainly 
 and instantly react upon its authors, that no civilized 
 and reading people, no people capable of even the 
 foresight of a child, could possibly be guilty of such 
 folly ; it would be an act so plainly and perfectly 
 suicidal. Besides, if we turn over the histories of 
 the past, we shall find invariably that the rich, oli- 
 garchical few, and not the poor plebeians, have been 
 the assailants of the rights of property. If any one 
 will take the trouble to examine the annals of for- 
 mer ages, he will see that mobs, conspiracies, and 
 insurrections have always originated in the mutual 
 dissensions and persecutions of the loftiest and most 
 privileged classes of society. The mass of the people 
 are always sound, and if allowed to take their own 
 way, unseduced and unterrified, would seldom choose 
 the wrong path ; and when led into error, they would 
 soon find it out, and promptly and cheerfully retrace 
 their steps. The state of things with us, touching 
 this topic, is happily described in the following 
 lines : — 
 
 " Self-love in each becomes the cause 
 
 Of what restrains him — government and laws. 
 For what one likes, if others like as well, 
 What serves one will, when many wills rebel ? 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 359 
 
 How shall he keep what, sleeping or awake, 
 A weaker may surprise, a stronger take ? 
 His safety mvist his liberty restrain ; 
 All join to guard what each desires to gain. 
 Forced into order thus by self-defence, 
 The worst learn justice and benevolence ; 
 Self-love forsook the path it first pursued, 
 And found the private in the public good." 
 
 Our conversation next turned upon the bill before 
 Parliament for the establishment of free schools — ■ 
 to extend to all children born into the kingdom the 
 knowledge of reading, writing, and numbers. He 
 said, " To me it is plain that tlie common people 
 ought not to be educated. Popular education is one 
 of the delusions which, in my day, have taken pos- 
 session of the public mind. Lord Brougham has 
 exerted his utmost abilities and eloquence to give 
 it currency. He talks about raising the body of 
 the people to intelligence, self-respect, and self- 
 dependence. They know enough already to fulfil 
 aright their missions in life ; more knowledge would 
 tend to destroy their habits of subordination and 
 submission to their superiors ; it would render them 
 rebellious to lawful authority, and discontented with 
 the condition which Providence has allotted tliem." 
 Referring to Cousin's Report to the French Govern- 
 ment on the Prussian School System of Education, 
 for authority, he added, " It contains this extraordi- 
 nary and astounding statement, viz., that in the best 
 educated departments, the greatest amount of crime 
 has been found to exist. This is a matter of statis- 
 tics. Cousin says, that in France, education, where 
 it has been tried, has made the common people 
 worse. The knowledge of readinc; and writing, com- 
 
oGO AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 muiiicated to the lower orders, would qualify them 
 to run more successfully the career of crime. lie 
 who writes a good hand can easily become an adept 
 forger or counterfeiter ; he who is skilful in arith- 
 metic may carry on those stupendous schemes of 
 fraud which would be forever beyond his. reach, were 
 he ignorant of numbers. A reading people, who 
 through the newspapers form an acquaintance with 
 those measures of government, or conduct of indi- 
 viduals whom they dislike, may easily be inspired 
 with ambition, envy, discontent, and unhappiness, and 
 by these means be urged on to excesses, vice, and 
 extravagance ; to treason, rebellion, mobs, tumults, 
 and massacres." 
 
 Such sentiments are almost universally expressed 
 by the aristocrats of England. I heard them ad- 
 vanced by a bishop in the House of Lords ; but in 
 justice I must add, that he expressed the opinion 
 that it would do to teach all children to read, if they 
 could be taught by ministers of the established 
 church, who would subject them to a wholesome 
 spiritual influence, and train them up to religion by 
 the facile and insensible degrees of a pious and vir- 
 tuous education. He asserted that the doctrine 
 which considers intelligence in itself favorable to 
 virtue an " utter follv," a most " dangerous mis- 
 take." Even in the United States, I have often 
 heard gentlemen urge arguments against the cause 
 of popular education ; yet these men, at the same 
 time, were employing teachers, books, travel, and 
 every other means, to make their own children wise 
 and learned. There is no culf into which we are 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 361 
 
 liable to fall but the dark gulf of popular ignorance. 
 Into it the nation will inevitably descend, unless it 
 be closed up in time. " No single sacrifice, like the 
 fabled sacrifice of the Koman Curtius, can avert the 
 danger. A representative government represents 
 the character of the people. And that government 
 which represents prevailing ignorance, degradation, 
 brutality, and passion, has its fate as certainly sealed, 
 as if, from the cloud that envelops the future, a 
 hand came forth, and wrote upon its mountain walls 
 the doom of utter perdition." 
 
 But the majority in this land are not a blind, igno- 
 rant, reckless, unprincipled rabble. The blessings 
 of a free press, free scliools, a free church, and uni- 
 versal suffrage, pour upon the minds of our people 
 the effulgence of knowledge and refinement. As 
 returning spring covers the earth with verdure and 
 beauty, so these divine principles shed upon the 
 moral landscape the light and loveliness of order, 
 peace, and intelligence. The fundamental error of 
 all our moral, religious, and political systems is the 
 hateful doctrine that men are naturally depraved — 
 incapable of goodness and self-government. This 
 error pervades the very spirit of civilized society, all 
 its maxims and institutions, and the general tone of 
 education. How much of all literature has been 
 prostituted to the unholy work of traducing and de- 
 preciating Imman nature — the noblest creation of 
 infinite love with which we are acquainted ! The 
 popular and prevailing idea, that sin is an essential, 
 inherent part of man, is so wide spread, radical, com- 
 prehensive, fearful, and fatal in its bearings, as to 
 31 
 
362 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 overshadow almost with despair the moral prospects 
 of an enslaved and benighted world. 
 
 That portion of the English who possess culti- 
 vated minds, wealth, and all its advantages, are to 
 me less than nothing, and vanity, compared with the 
 millions of wretched, impoverished beings there, that 
 for a long series of ages have been the iinpitied vic- 
 tims of injustice and oppression. Yes, my sympa- 
 thies arc with that rabble — as I often heard them 
 called — whose rights and interests are crushed down 
 to earth by the banded tyrannies of church and state. 
 And with sorrow I asked wise men the reason of all 
 this. The only answer was, " They must be kept in 
 this depressed condition to prevent them from rising 
 to carry on a war of extermination against property 
 — against the government, the throne, the church, 
 and the nobility. It is necessary to our preservation 
 that they should be excluded from the higher 
 advantages of literature, art, science, freedom, and 
 civilization." 
 
 Tliis undervaluing of human nature, this blind- 
 ness to its original worth and capabilities, is a lead- 
 ing defect in the preaching and measures of many 
 clergymen in the United States. The pulpit here 
 is often exceedingly troubled with apprehensions lest 
 the mass of the people, through ignorance and de- 
 pravity, should imperil and subvert their civil rights 
 and prosperity. They show a great want of confi- 
 dence in the good sense and rectitude of their fellow- 
 beings. Hence liundreds of ministers in the Nortli- 
 crn States have been engaged, the past summer, in 
 preaching politics. They tell their hearers that they 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 863 
 
 must look to them for guidance and information in 
 all these things, as well as m matters appertaining 
 to the salvation of their souls. Though the peoi)le 
 are trained to investigate political affairs for them- 
 selves ; though books and newspapers abound which 
 treat of these subjects, and are in the hands of every 
 one ; and although they are ably and constantly 
 discussed every week day, in legislatures, mass meet- 
 ings, the family, the shop, the field, the store, the 
 rail car, and the steamboat, yet these clergymen 
 think it necessary, for the enlightenment of the people, 
 to address them from the pulpit on the slavery ques- 
 tion, and other topics, which should be left to the 
 exclusive management of statesmen and professed 
 politicians. 
 
 As a class, the laity are much better informed on 
 these subjects, and more competent to their discus- 
 sion than ministers. Besides, by this practice the 
 church is entirely desecrated. People go there on 
 the Sabbath to have their thoughts lifted up towards 
 God, heaven, and the life immortal. And what do 
 they hear ? A mere political harangue, bitter de- 
 nunciations of a large class of their follow-citizcns, 
 and inflammatory appeals calculated to inspire them 
 with hatred, prejudices, and all the worst passions 
 of which our nature is capable. Such ministers do 
 more to destroy respect for Christianity than all the 
 infidel writings and preaching in the world. If 
 these ministers are right, then professors should be 
 appointed in all our theological seminaries, to initiate 
 the pupils into the elements of political science. I 
 thank God that the people of the United States arc 
 
364 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 capable of managing their own affairs, and that if 
 every clergyman in the Union were this clay to 
 breathe his last, laymen in sufficient numbers, and 
 well qualified, would immediately step forward to 
 fill their places. 
 
 I went through England, Scotland, "Wales, and 
 Ireland, and examined the most interesting objects 
 which they present to the notice of travellers. A 
 description of my experiences would fill volumes. 
 I had read the history of those lands from a child. 
 England was endeared to me as the birthplace of 
 my ancestors, as adorned with all the embellishments 
 which art, science, learning, and religion can bestow. 
 I hardly saw a town, city, castle, river, lake, a hill 
 covered with shrubbery and heather, a plain, valley, 
 or mountain, which did not awaken in my mind long 
 trains of historical associations. So that the glories 
 of my fatherland for centuries past, as I moved 
 along, rose and stood before me, with all the vivid- 
 ness of real life — a panorama of the grand, beau- 
 tiful, good, and picturesque of former ages. Every 
 step of my way was on classic ground. For instance, 
 at Holyrood Palace, near Edinburgh, I saw the bed- 
 room and dressing room of Queen Mary, and the 
 apartment in which Rizzio was murdered before her 
 face by Darnley, Ruthven, and others. I lingered 
 on that spot for hours. For a time I was a spiritu- 
 alist. I beheld and conversed with the beautiful, 
 accomplished, but unfortunate Mary. Perhaps, were 
 it not for her beauty and sufferings, her name 
 would not have been embalmed in the memory of 
 everlasting ages. With Mary, thoughts of the per- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 365 
 
 sons and scenes that determined her extraordinary 
 fates and fortunes, the events of the age in which 
 she lived, the distinguished men and women who 
 were her contemporaries, rushed into my soul with 
 the fulness and rapidity of a torrent. Overborne, 
 carried away with the images and emotions inspired 
 by the place, I staid there till it Avas nearly dark, 
 and then went to my room to write notes and pass a 
 sleepless night. This I did more than half the time 
 whilst I was in Europe. 
 
 The next day, taking leave of the Scotch metrop- 
 olis, I went round through the Highlands to Glasgow. 
 I saw the beautiful windings of the Forth, the 
 Grampian Hills, the wild, magnificent Trossachs, 
 Ben Nevis, and Ben Venue, the haunted waters of 
 Loch Katrine, and the bold, majestic shores of Loch 
 Lomond. From Glasgow I directed my course to 
 Belfast, Ireland, and the Giant's Causeway. I had 
 previously become acquainted with the scenery of 
 Wales and the northern counties of England, Cum- 
 berland and Westmoreland, which present a most 
 indescribable assemblage of sublime and beautiful 
 objects : lofty craggy mountains, prcci})itous cliffs, 
 looking down upon the sweetest valleys ; small, 
 secluded, verdant farms, in the highest state of culti- 
 vation ; crystal lakes of the most romantic forms — 
 sparkling gems in the landscape ; streams of pure, 
 living, transparent water ; trees and flowers of the 
 most elegant hues and shapes ; animals grazing ; gar- 
 dens ; cottages with their slieltering bowers ; and oth- 
 er things innumerable, whose expressiveness, delicacy 
 of coloring, gracefulness of figure, and boldness of 
 
366 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 
 
 outline, can be understood by those only who have 
 seen them with their own eyes. 
 
 But I must confess that the scenery of Switzerland, 
 the Alps, and Italy far surpasses the noblest exhibitions 
 of nature in British landscapes. It is on a larger 
 scale, and has peculiar features of grandeur and 
 beauty, which adorn no other part of the world that 
 I have seen. What is there in Great Britain, which 
 her poets have sung so mvich about, comparable with 
 Lake Colno and its enchanting shores ? I entered 
 Switzerland from the soutiiern or Italian side, 
 through one of the beautiful valleys of Piedmont, 
 which commences near Lake Maggiore, about dark. 
 There was no passenger in the diligence but myself. 
 The sky was clouded and lowering. In a few mo- 
 ments it began to rain violently, accompanied with 
 vivid flashes of lightning and tremendous peals of 
 thunder. This was the only thunder storm which 
 I witnessed in Europe. By the help of the lightning 
 I could see the towering mountains on each side 
 of me. By the echoes from the surrounding sum- 
 mits the claps of thunder were intensified, and made 
 awfully grand. I felt and enjoyed the truth of the 
 lines from Byron : — 
 
 ♦' The sky is changed ! and such a change ! O night ! 
 And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, 
 Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light 
 Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along, 
 From peak to peak, the rattling crags among. 
 Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, 
 But every mountain now hath found a tongue ; 
 And Jura answers through her misty shroud 
 Back to tlie joyous Alps, who call to her aloud I " 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 367 
 
 In the midst of wind, rain, night, clouds, lightning, 
 and thunder, we stopped at a small hotel to change 
 horses. Here I was joined by two English gentle- 
 men, who were on their way to Geneva. They 
 proved to be quite intelligent, agreeable companions, 
 and in the space of ten minutes the most cordial 
 and friendly relations were established between us. 
 I had been alone not more than two hours before 
 they entered the diligence. At the beginning of the 
 valley above named, a Scotchman, who accompanied 
 me all the way from Milan, was stopped by the police, 
 in consequence of some alleged informality in his 
 passport. Behig pressed with want of time, 1 was 
 compelled, with much regret, to part with him. 
 This short period was the only occasion in which I 
 was left absolutely solitary during the whole of my 
 wanderings on the continent of Europe. 
 
 The morning came " with breath all incense, and 
 with cheek all bloom," glowing with life, radiance, 
 and beauty. After breakfast we crossed the bridge 
 of Crevola, and began to ascend what is called the 
 Simplon road, which was constructed by the Em- 
 peror Napoleon, and is generally called Bonaparte's 
 road. The highest part of this road is six or eight 
 thousand feet above the level of the sea. It is forty 
 or fifty miles in length, and passes on the extreme 
 declivity of ridges, over awful gulfs, that seem to be 
 tliousands of feet deep, and roaring torrents, and 
 through tremendous precipices, which, as you ap- 
 proach them, appear like perpendicular barriers of 
 impassable rock, reaching to the heavens. Yet over 
 these ravines, gorges, and cascades, and down tre- 
 
o68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 meiidous cliffs, you arc carried as easily as if you 
 were riding in a pleasure carriage along a smooth, 
 level turnpike. The ascent is so gradual that it no- 
 where exceeds two inches and a half in six feet, and 
 carriages can descend without locking the wheels at 
 any place. I am speaking now of the Italian side 
 of the Alps, which to me was much more striking in 
 scenery than that of Switzerland. The road some- 
 times is terminated in one direction by a perpen- 
 dicular precipice, towering from unfathomed depths 
 below, absolutely precluding farther progress, except 
 liy making a tunnel through the solid rock. Of 
 these galleries, the largest, if I do not mistake, is 
 six hundred feet long, twenty-seven wide, and thirty 
 high, with three wide openings through its side to 
 admit light. On the lower side of the road there is 
 a wall laid with stone and mortar, whose solid ma- 
 sonry resembles the sublime works described in 
 ancient story as the creation of giants. The road 
 passes over nearly three hundred bridges. At cer- 
 tain intervals, stone houses are Iniilt across the 
 mountains, the occupants of which are bound to 
 keep' their stoves heated night and day, in cold 
 weather, and a room ready for travellers. The Cath- 
 olics have small oratories on the route, where the 
 faithful may pause and perform their devotions. 
 Near the summit is a hospice, in which strangers 
 may find good entertainment. 
 
 No work of art ever made so strong an impression 
 on my mind as this road. Its features arc in keep- 
 ing with the sublime and awful scenery through 
 which it passes. As the traveller makes his way to 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 369 
 
 the top of the Alps, panoramas of mountains are 
 presented to his view one after another, each of 
 which has a type of wildncss and grandeur peculiar 
 to itself. No two are precisely alike. Some arc 
 snowy peaks ; others rise in the shape of a cone 
 formed of bare, naked rocks, utterly devoid of every 
 kind of vegetation. One summit, whose altitude is 
 perhaps thousands of feet, is clothed with dark fir 
 groves. Another, separated from this only by a 
 deep gorge, and to the eye not much more lofty, has 
 on its sides the mingled phenomena of summer and 
 winter. In point of fact they may he miles apart, 
 but to the eye of the traveller they appear to be 
 neighbors. Here is every form of majestic scenery, 
 within the circumference of fifty miles, which our 
 globe exhibits. Travelling through the Alps, you 
 may see masses of snow descend to a certain point 
 on the sides of the mountains ; and at that very 
 point vegetation commences ; the cattle feed ; and 
 even up to the very fields' of snow, within twenty feet 
 thereof, are grass, shrubbery, trees, gardens, herbage, 
 and cottages. But there is no space, had I the power 
 to describe these things. No words can picture the 
 charming valley of the Rhone, the beautiful Lake of 
 Geneva, Mont Blanc, as seen from the surrounding 
 mountains, Cliamouni, Mer de Glace, or the Glacier 
 de Boisson, with their stupendous masses of ice, 
 crowding down into the verdant valleys, or shoot- 
 ing up in the figures of pyramids and pinnacles, 
 stupendous, unequalled, and ineffably sublime. 
 
 Northern Italy, about Lakes Como and Maggiore, 
 has made indelible impressions on my memory. 
 
370 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 That and Switzerland awakened in my soul higher 
 ideas of natural beauty and sublimity than I had 
 ever before entertained. There is nothing- in the 
 United States comparable to them as it regards in- 
 teresting scenery. I was struck with the singular 
 blending and contrasts which they present of all 
 that is most magnificent and lovely in nature. There 
 is hardly a spot in those regions where the travel- 
 ler's horizon does not at the same moment embrace 
 in its sweep mountain tops, ragged cliffs, fertile 
 valleys, rich plains, verdant meadows, vineyards, 
 gardens, embowered cottages, hills moulded into 
 exquisite forms of elegance, crystal streams spar- 
 kling in their purity, and clear, placid lakes, — so 
 clear that, like a mirror, they reflect the blue depths 
 of azure above, — the surrounding shores, with their 
 terraces rising one above another, and lessening 
 towards the top, the clouds and mountains, and the 
 variegated hues and tints of the sky. These objects, 
 innumerable and indescribable, set up in the gal- 
 leries of my soul pictures of loveliness and grandeur 
 which can never fade away — which enable me to 
 commune with God, to feel the inspirations of his 
 Spirit, and to catch partial glimpses and revelations 
 of the wonders and glories of that higher world, 
 destined for our immortal inheritance. Yes, the 
 seeing of Italy and Switzerland filled my soul witli 
 treasures, — perceptions, feelings, glorious images, 
 worth more than all the material wealth of Europe, — 
 treasures that will last long as the throne of heaven, 
 wliicli are tlie dispensers of all tlie true happiness 
 tliat lies within the sweep of time, or the boundless 
 walks of futurity. 
 
KEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 371 
 
 For myself, I am accustomed to see God in every 
 thing which awakens my love and admiration. 
 Whenever I behold any object, new, fair, orderly, 
 proportioned, grand, or harmonious, in the physical 
 world ; whenever 1 witness a high display of moral 
 excellence, honor, faithfulness, and truth ; when- 
 ever heaven from its majestic heights, or earth from 
 its lowly vales, sends one sweet, delightful, or ele- 
 vating thought into my mind, — that thought is to 
 me but a revelation of the ever-present, ever-beauti- 
 ful, ever-blessed Creator. The outward universe of 
 majesty and beauty, as much as the Bible, is an un- 
 folding of our Father's infinite perfections. And if 
 we could think thus habitually and constantly, we 
 should soar upward above these dark vales of time, 
 their sorrows and gloom, and realize that no joy, no 
 rapture on earth, can be likened to the ecstasies of a 
 soul whose supreme affections centre on God. The 
 holiest prayer which I am capable of offering is the 
 thoughts and feelings which seize upon me when 
 thinking of the character of Jesus, and the wonders 
 of Calvary. Scarcely less profound and absorbing 
 are my emotions when I hold deep communion with 
 nature — nature, that possesses not an item of glory 
 but what radiates far more brightly from the person, 
 truth, and history of the Son of God. 
 
 I cannot but repeat it, I thank God that I have 
 been enabled to see Switzerland, — its endlessly- 
 diversified mountains, cragged pinnacles, deep defiles, 
 wild and romantic scenery, the varieties of hue 
 and shade, the images of purity and repose, the flit- 
 ting shadows and changing colors, which at the ris- 
 
372 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ing and setting of the sun pass in rapid succession, 
 like fairy forms, across the gently rippled, tremiUous 
 waters of her lakes. When gloomy or melancholy 
 thoughts come over me, I recall to memory some of 
 these charming scenes, and sadness flees away. The 
 clouds are dispersed. All around is like a bright, 
 balmy, fragrant morn of spring. I listen to a sweet 
 concord of melodious sounds. I look through 
 " golden vistas, into a serener, happier world," and 
 exclaim, — 
 
 " Thou art, God, the life and light 
 
 Of all this wondrous world we see ; 
 Its glow by day, its smile by night, 
 
 Are but reflections caught from thee ; 
 Where'er we turn thy glories shine. 
 And all things fair and bright are thine." 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 373 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 INTERIOR OF FRANCE. — THE MONOTONOUS ASPECT OF 
 ITS SCENERY. — MANNER OF KEEPING THE SABBATH 
 ON THE CONTINENT OF EUROPE, ETC. 
 
 After sojourning in Paris a few days, I engaged 
 a seat in the covpe, or front apartment of a diligence, 
 for Clialons, a town situated on the Saone. When 
 I ascended to my place, I found that my companions 
 for the tour were two gentlemen, one on my right 
 hand and one on my left, with an air, mien, and ex- 
 pression completely French. Not a word was uttered 
 by either of us while the carriage was rattling along 
 the paved streets of the city. When we entered the 
 country, the road became as level and smooth as 
 a parlor floor. Then I ventured to break the disa- 
 greeable silence by addressing some questions in 
 French, (which I supposed was their vernacular,) 
 first to one and then to the other of my fellow-travel- 
 lers. They pretended not to understand my patois, 
 shook their heads, and continued dumb. I then 
 tried the English, but was equally unsuccessful. 
 The man on my left had the looks of one belonging 
 to some learned profession. I ventured to speak to 
 him in Latin, a language with which all scholars on 
 the continent of Europe are familiar ; but even this 
 attempt elicited no response. They were as still as 
 marble statues. I was about giving up the case as 
 utterly hopeless, when the thought occurred that 
 
374 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 
 
 perhaps they mistook me for an Englishman ; for 
 my friends in London had remarked that I looked 
 much more like John Bull than Brother Jonathan. 
 Immediately I remarked that I was a stranger from 
 the United States, and this was my first visit to 
 Europe. At this announcement their faces no longer 
 wore a forbidding frown, but were lightened up with 
 joy and kind expression. They apologized for the in- 
 civility with which I had been treated, by confirming 
 what I had before suspected. One was a merchant 
 of Paris, who spoke the English with ease, and had 
 visited Boston, New York, and Philadelphia. The 
 other resided in Lyons, and was a lawyer of the 
 largest information and the most agreeable powers 
 of conversation. He knew every rod of ground we 
 travelled over, and pointed out the localities of some 
 of the most interesting scenes recorded in the history 
 of France. 
 
 From Belgium to Marseilles almost every acre of 
 land is under the highest state of cultivation. Im- 
 mense open fields, separated by no hedges or enclo- 
 sures of any kind, stretch along in almost unbroken 
 succession for hundreds of miles. Through un- 
 known centuries past, they have poured forth their 
 annual crops of fruits and vegetables. The stock in 
 the pastures are kept from wandering, not by fences, 
 but by shepherds, with the aid of dogs, which mani- 
 fest a degree of intelligence almost equal to that of 
 man. I scarcely saw a piece of woodland or swamp ; 
 but through my entire route I remarked long ave- 
 nues of trees, — elm, poplar, beech, — all trimmed 
 up so as to be very lofty, without any imder branches. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 375 
 
 For many miles together the road is lined on both 
 sides with them ; and ranges of trees, forming squares, 
 triangles, and groves of parallel rows, arc seen every 
 where. But the scenery was so monotonous that I 
 soon grew tired of looking at it. In travelling more 
 than five hundred miles by land, from the north of 
 France to the Mediterranean, we did not meet a sin- 
 gle pleasure carriage, or any other vehicle, except 
 mail coaches and the carts of the peasantry going to 
 or returning from their daily labors. All whom I 
 saw had a melancholy air, were poorly clad, and ap- 
 parently broken down with excessive toil. 
 
 "When I passed through these regions it was the 
 season of harvesting. A great majority of the la- 
 borers in the fields were women, and they performed 
 the hardest kind of work, for the men mixed with 
 them seemed in general to be aged, infirm, and fee- 
 ble. All over England, Scotland, and Wales, I be- 
 held the same spectacle — women in companies of 
 ten, twenty, &c., digging, drudging, and delving in 
 the fields, doing precisely that kind of work which 
 slaves perform with us in the Southern States. By 
 the help of my intelligent companions I learned 
 much of the statistics that regard the peasantry of 
 France. Millions in that country do not live as well 
 as our slaves, work harder, are a great deal poorer, 
 and incomparably less happy and less free. 
 
 Yet, in conversation with enlightened Frenchmen, I 
 was often reminded that the glory of our republic 
 was impaired by the shocking evil of slavery. In 
 reply, my invariable practice was to ask for a clear 
 and precise idea of the term slavery. A talented, 
 
376 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 disingenuous man may conceal truth, and build up 
 error by the use of equivocal and uncertain combina- 
 tions of speecli. Vague and indefinite terms and 
 statements have filled the moral world with doubts, 
 misapprehension, and falsehood. All whom I met 
 on this subject were willing to subscribe to these 
 words, found in the treatise of Dr. Paley on Moral 
 Philosophy : " Slavery is an obligation to labor for a 
 master without one's own consent." " But our peas- 
 ants and operatives," said one of my fellow-travellers, 
 " are free ; no master can compel them to work." 
 
 In answer to this assertion, I remarked, " You 
 have just told me that the multitudes whom we see 
 (most of whom are women) going to the fields with 
 hoe and shovel in hand, or to the markets with 
 heavily-laden baskets on their heads, are so poor that 
 they cannot obtain the most scanty fare without this 
 wearing toil and exposure, which deprives them of 
 all the charms and advantages of civilized life. Ac- 
 cording to your own statement, these women would 
 starve if they did not regularly hire themselves out 
 to work in the field, at the price of eighteen sous 
 (less than eighteen cents) per day. At the same 
 time, they, in part, support themselves, take their 
 breakfast, which consists of nothing but a plate of 
 thin, mean, sometimes rancid soup, at home ; their 
 employer providing some bread and a pint of sour 
 wine for their dinner, and not a particle of meat of 
 any description. 
 
 " They have no holidays but the Sabbath and the 
 festivals of the church. They have never had, at 
 one time, money enough to travel twenty miles from 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 377 
 
 the spot where they were bom. And as to their not 
 being compelled to toil, they can no more help it, — 
 they can no more emancipate themselves from the 
 fetters and manacles which bind them down with an 
 adamantine necessity, — than they could create the 
 vegetables and fruits that they grow and carry to 
 market. More, this hopeless indigence and depres- 
 sion, which have been handed down from time im- 
 memorial, are the result of your laws. It has been 
 ordained by your civil constitution in the same sense 
 that the government of America has legalized Afri- 
 can bondage. It is one of the sad remains of an- 
 cient feudalism. Besides, your slaves are ' bone of 
 your bone, and flesh of your flesh.' They are as 
 noble and capable by nature as their masters. But 
 with us the slaves are black, belong to an inferior 
 race, and are just as incapable of enjoying equal 
 rights and freedom with their masters, as the horse, 
 the ox, or the mule. It is an empty boast that you 
 have no slaves in France. "Within your territories 
 are millions enslaved by the hand of law, and be- 
 yond all comparison more destitute, helpless, and 
 wretched, than African bondmen in our republic." 
 
 I noticed the prevalence of the same delusion in 
 England. The morning on which I reached Man- 
 chester, the newspapers stated that fifty thousand 
 persons in that city were suffering from starvation, 
 and eloquent appeals were made to the community 
 on their behalf. In a few moments after reading this 
 notice, I called on a distinguished scholar and phi- 
 lanthropist, with whom I had held some correspond- 
 ence, through the introduction of a brother who 
 32* 
 
378 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 resided in New Orleans. I was scarcely seated be- 
 fore he introduced the subject of American slavery, 
 remarking- that he was president of the Abolition So- 
 ciety in Manchester, and that the day before a hand- 
 some collection was taken up to further their objects. 
 " Though far off," said he, " our hearts bleed for and 
 sympathize with those among you, whom, in defiance 
 of the sacred principles of the Declaration of American 
 Independence, you are subjecting to a cruel and most 
 merciless bondage. We learned from a speech deliv- 
 ered here a few days ago by one of your own country- 
 men, that the poor slaves in the south are habitually 
 scourged and tortured by inhuman masters, to make 
 them work harder ; that they have insufficient cloth- 
 ing and inadequate food. He showed us pictures 
 exhibiting the dreadful form of punishment practised, 
 as he alleged, on the cotton and sugar plantations 
 in general." In my reply, it was attempted to prove 
 that the impressions which this gentleman had im- 
 bibed in regard to American slavery were entirely 
 erroneous. He listened to the statistics whicli were 
 given him with the greatest joy. He used no invec- 
 tives, no harsh, unchristian language, such as con- 
 stantly Ml from the lips of anti-slavery apostles in 
 this country, who generally meet the mildest argu- 
 ments of their opponents by foaming out their anger, 
 malevolence, and shame. Indeed, he went so far as 
 to say that if my statements were true, (and he fully 
 believed in their correctness,) the condition of our 
 slaves, all things considered, would not be bettered 
 by emancipation, were the experiment actually tried, 
 and that the funds raised by British philanthropists 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 379 
 
 for their relief should be expended in feeding the 
 starving millions at their own doors. " 'Tis distance 
 lends enchantment to the view." Constantly, when 
 conversing with the wise and good of the old world 
 about the American republic, I was asked how it was 
 possible that a people so enlightened and generous 
 could deliberately unite in disfranchising a large 
 class of their fellow-beings, and withholding from 
 them all the blessings which freemen most highly 
 prize. But I found no difficulty in convincing them 
 that we were not guilty of conduct so immoral and 
 inconsistent with our political principles ; that wc 
 allowed the negroes among us as much liberty as 
 they were capable of, and that they had a much 
 larger share of temporal means and happiness than 
 any class of operatives that I had mot on the conti- 
 nent of Europe. 
 
 Paris and the other cities of France far surpassed 
 my expectations. But I was sadly disappointed with 
 the country, though it is so old, so rich, and so highly 
 cultivated. About forty years ago, I took a journey, 
 with two friends, through the State of Illinois. It 
 was in the summer, and in several instances wc trav- 
 elled for a whole day witliout meeting a human hab- 
 itation, directing our course entirely by a pocket 
 compass. Although the widely-extended prairies, of 
 which the eye could find no limits, covered Avith grass 
 and wild flowers of every form and hue, filled with 
 deer, grouse, and other game unterrificd by the a]> 
 proach and presence of man, presented a rare com- 
 bination of sublime and beautiful scenery, yet the 
 journeying across them inspired me with strange feel- 
 
380 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 ings of desolateness and melancholy. No loveliness 
 of natural scenery can render an immense solitude 
 agreeable, so strong and predominant are the social 
 propensities whicli God has given us. In travelling 
 through the interior of France, amid all its rich fields 
 and vine-clad hills, I saw no beautiful country seats, 
 no cottages embowered with trees, no fine houses, no 
 briglit and happy faces, no children going to school 
 with book in hand, no equipages, no persons appar- 
 ently walking or riding for pleasure ; but a dreadful 
 solitariness and seclusion seemed to reign every 
 where. There may be people in those rural districts 
 who possess the advantages of wealth, learning, 
 leisure, and taste. None of this description are seen 
 along the roads. Almost the entire population that 
 meets the eye of the traveller belongs to the toiling 
 multitude — miserable-looking people, tramping about 
 in wooden shoes, heavy in their movements, their 
 faces weather-beaten and unintelligent, living in low, 
 filthy stone houses, destitute of comfortable furni- 
 ture, whose large, projecting roofs embrace not only 
 domicile, but also barn, stable, wood house, sty, <tc., 
 where the accommodations for man and beast are 
 almost equally mean, dirty, and disagreeable. 
 
 But on the Sabbath, the country diifers very much 
 in appearance from the aspect which it wears on the 
 other days of the week. One Sunday I chanced to 
 be in a lovely district on tlie banks of the Saone. 
 The people, dressed in their best apparel, through tlic 
 morning repaired in crowds to the churches. The 
 Sabbath, all over the continent of Europe, in the 
 afternoon is kept as a holiday. I saw small parties, 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 381 
 
 families, kindred, and friends, when their religious 
 services were over, engaged in conversation and ap- 
 propriate amusements, Tliey seem cheerful, re- 
 freshed, elastic, and happy. I could hardly realize 
 that they were the same beings whom I had gazed 
 on the evening before with sad emotions, as, ex- 
 hausted, haggard, and care-worn in their looks, they 
 were lifting off from their necks the iron yoke of toil. 
 I was strucic with the quietness and decorum which 
 marked these laborers during the hours devoted to 
 relaxation. Though the population was all abroad 
 after the season of divine service, in the streets, gar- 
 dens, and public places, there was an entire, remark- 
 able abstinence among the multitudes from all bois- 
 terous mirth, loud talking, and laughter, frolicking, 
 profaneness, intemperance, and excesses of every kind. 
 Indeed, they were as quiet, orderly, and restrained 
 as the collections around our church doors, when 
 assembled for public worship. I noticed the same 
 peculiarity all over France, Italy, and Switzerland. 
 May not this extraordinary decorum be ascril:)ed to 
 the fact that the whole Sabbath is not, as with us, 
 devoted to religious services, but a part of it is em- 
 ployed in innocent and useful recreations ? 
 
 At any rate, I could not help feeling, with respect 
 to these poor people, that the Sabbath was the most 
 glorious portion of their earthly allotments ; that it 
 far outweighed in value all their other temporal 
 blessings and possessions. No words can describe 
 the importance to the humbler classes of that reg- 
 ular return of hallowed rest, which secures to them 
 a Aveekly day of release from injustice and servility, 
 from ignoble toil and Avearing drudgeries. By this 
 
382 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 divine appointment, the poorest peasant has one day 
 in seven for the ennobling pursuits of knowledge 
 and virtue, for the enjoyment of freedom and inde- 
 pendence, and for the concentration of his thoughts 
 upon God, Jesus, and immortality. The Sabbath 
 tells the meanest slave that, however sad and for- 
 saken on earth, he has an ever-present, almighty 
 Father in heaven, who will one day admit him to 
 " the glorious liberty of the children of God." To a 
 poor family, the Christian Sabbath is more important 
 than all the external wealth and magnificence of an 
 evanescent world. The observance of this sacred 
 day is not to be traced to the selfish, arbitrary enact- 
 ment of a cunning, interested priesthood, but is en- 
 forced upon us by a law as eternal, omnipotent, and 
 unvaried, as that which causes our globe to revolve 
 in its annual circuit around the sun. If death were 
 an eternal sleep, the Sabbath w^ould still be indispen- 
 sably necessary to secure the highest enjoyment of 
 health, bodily vigor, temporal peace, and prosperity. 
 To destroy the sabbatical institution, then, you must 
 take human nature to pieces, and reconstruct it upon 
 another far different and sublimer economy — an 
 economy assimilating us to the inhabitants of that 
 celestial world where toil, pain, fatigue, sleep, and 
 mortality are never known. 
 
 A distinguished American divine, writing home 
 from France, says, " There is no Sabbath here ; for 
 the Catholic custom prevails of spending the after- 
 noon of the first day of the week abroad in the 
 gardens, promenades, streets, &c. The most pious 
 parents may be seen desecrating holy time by 
 walkinc; or ridinc; out with their households for 
 
EEV. THEODOEE CLAPP. 383 
 
 amusement. Nor is the practice regarded by the 
 most scrupulous as inconsistent with the Christian 
 character." I shoukl like to ask this eminent man 
 if any law of God contained in the New Testament 
 forbids the walking or riding out with children and 
 friends on the Sabbath. On the contrary, the law 
 of reason, of common sense, and Jesus Christ, pro- 
 claims that both practices are highly becoming and 
 salutary. I can scarcely imagine a more improving 
 exercise of the head and the heart, than that of tak- 
 ing one's children, and leading them abroad, in a 
 sweet afternoon, to inhale the balmy air, to gaze on 
 the flowers and herbage of the fields, to look on Na- 
 tnre, and " through Nature up to Nature's God," 
 till, rapt above this sublunary sphere, they break 
 forth, perhaps, in the glorious words of Thomson, — 
 
 " These, as they change, Almighty Father, these 
 Are but the varied God ; the rolling year 
 Is full of thee." 
 
 From the bottom of my heart I commiserate the 
 narrow soul who can look upon such forms of relax- 
 ation as tending to dishonor God or his ordinances ; 
 who conceives the Creator as capable of frowning a 
 parent down to hell, and following his children from 
 one generation to another with his wrath and curse, 
 for the crime of an hour's innocent recreation on a 
 Sabbath afternoon. Such absurd views have in- 
 vested the Christian Sunday with forbidding gloom 
 and melancholy, darkness and mourning, made it 
 revolting to the glad spirit of childhood, and sur- 
 rounded it with associations to young minds inex- 
 pressibly odious and terrific. 
 
384 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 At Marseilles, I went on board a steamer which 
 plies as a regular packet between that city and Na- 
 ples, touching on its way at Genoa, Leghorn, and 
 Civita Vecchia. I visited the principal objects of 
 interest around the Bay of Naples, the delightful 
 environs of Naples itself, Vesuvius, Hcrculaneum, 
 Pompeii, the tomb of Virgil, the grotto of Pausilippo, 
 Capri Baiffi, and the mouldering remains of villas, 
 gardens, palaces, baths, and museums, which were 
 the ornament and boast of the civilized world two 
 thousand years ago. From this interesting spot I 
 went to the Eternal City, crossed the Apennines to 
 Milan, thence over the mountains to the Rhine, to 
 Holland and Belgium. Soon as I entered London 
 on my return from the continent, I ceased to feel as 
 if I was in a foreign country. The accents of my 
 native language, and all the objects which greeted my 
 senses, bore such a striking resemblance to those of 
 an American city, as to render it impossible to realize 
 that the broad expanse of the Atlantic intervened 
 between me and the land of my fathers. I could 
 not help fancying that I was already on the banks 
 of the Mississippi, in the presence of wife, children, 
 and friends. 
 
 When I commenced this writing, it was a part of 
 my plan to include in it a more extended account of 
 my experiences in journeying through the regions 
 above named. Such a narrative would present many 
 curious and interesting details, but there is no room 
 for their admission into these pages, which have been 
 already multiplied beyond my original intention. 
 
EEY. THEODOKE CLAPP. 385 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Born on the 29tli of March, 1792, 1 am now well 
 advanced in my sixty-fifth year. I contemplate the 
 end of my earthly existence full of gratitude and 
 delightful hope. I thank Heaven that my lot has 
 been cast in tliis wonderful age, and in this glorious 
 land. This age has advantages wliich were not pos- 
 sessed by any of its predecessors. The beautiful 
 thoiiglits and brilliant deeds of the antecedent genera- 
 tions of time constitute a portion of our inheritance. 
 The earliest period of which history gives an account 
 has contributed its quota to the resources of wisdom 
 and happiness enjoyed by those who are now actors 
 on the stage of human life. To us belong the poems 
 of Homer, the writings of Plato and Virgil, the elo- 
 quence of Demosthenes, and other luminaries which 
 irradiated former days. To us belong the lofty ex- 
 amples of heroism given by all the great and good 
 whose names are inscribed on the annals of time. 
 The reformation commenced by Luther, is now lav- 
 ishing its benefits on every part of the civilized world. 
 " For us the sailor at the mast head, on the evening 
 of the 11th of October, 1492, cried out, Land ! land 
 ahead ! and Columbus with his followers kissed the 
 dust of a new continent." For us the Puritan 
 Fathers, amid the horrors of winter and a rock- 
 bound, savage, inhospitable coast, reared their altars 
 33 
 
386 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 and sang their hymns to the God of civil and religious 
 freedom, imploring his blessing upon their efforts to 
 found " a church without a bishop, and a state with- 
 out a king." From those who have gone before us 
 have been derived most of the arts, science, learning, 
 institutes, comforts, and blessings of the present 
 civilization. 
 
 But the good, true, and useful accumulate as time 
 rolls on, and this age is richer in the beautiful than 
 any which has preceded it. Does the correctness of 
 this position appear doubtful to any one, I would 
 say to him, let us look back only as far as our own 
 memory reaches. During that time, what progress has 
 been made in the means of personal, domestic, and 
 ■social peace ! What advances have we ourselves 
 witnessed, running through the whole circles of educa- 
 tion, art,, government, and literature ! Improvement 
 has taken wings and visited the remotest lands, 
 every where asserting her claims, and emancipating 
 millions from the dominion of ignorance, injustice, 
 and oppression. And this spirit of improvement, 
 which has done so much in our time, is instinct with 
 the principle of self-preservation and everlasting 
 growth. Education, freedom, and the sublime, en- 
 nobling principles of Christianity are the recupera- 
 tive means which must one day overspread the earth, 
 and roll the mighty burden of man's bondage and 
 sorrow into the gulf of annihilation. The human 
 mind can never stand still. Its faculties continually 
 grow more vigorous and expansive — become fitted 
 for wider excursions and higher views of truth and 
 duty. The world never stands still, nor takes a step 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 387 
 
 backward. To do the one or the other is not within 
 the limits of possibility. It cannot be doubted but 
 that in time to come civilization will increase more 
 rapidly than it has done during the last half century. 
 No mortal can foresee its progress. But judging its 
 future triumphs from the past, we may conclude 
 that the day will certainly come when all mankind 
 will be completely delivered from evil, and the king- 
 doms of this world become the triumphant kingdoms 
 of the Prince of Peace. 
 
 We are intimately and forever allied to all who 
 have lived in former ages. " We should consider 
 ourselves as links in that vast chain of being which 
 commences with our race, and runs onward through 
 its successive generations, binding together the past, 
 the present, and the future, and terminating with tlic 
 consummation of all things earthly at the throne of 
 God."* The revelation of Jesus Christ enables us 
 to look back through the dim and misty shadows of 
 by-gone times, with all their vicissitudes of honor 
 and shame, tears and rejoicings, crimes and virtues, 
 and discern the divine, mysterious web of that sub- 
 lime destiny by which God is weaving for each and 
 all of Adam's race the issues of everlasting life, 
 brightness, and beatitude. The Creator has never 
 been disappointed. He sees the end from the begin- 
 ning. Mankind, in each of the antecedent epochs 
 and eras of earth's history, have been in exact ac- 
 cordance with that plan of creation which has ex- 
 isted eternally in the unsearchable counsels of the 
 Father. The question is often asked, Why did not 
 
 * Webster. 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 the advent of our Saviour take place at an earlier 
 date ? The true answer is suggested by the apostle 
 — " The fulness of time had not yet come." The 
 world was not ready to receive him sooner. 
 
 Mankind have always been rising in the scale of 
 perfection, and as soon as they were sufficiently ele- 
 vated to justify the dispensation, Jesus Christ ap- 
 peared among them. Far be it from me to utter any 
 sophistries calculated to lower the ideas which Chris- 
 tians generally entertain concerning the enormity of 
 sin. But I have long thought, that as water cannot 
 run up stream, so the moral characters of individu- 
 als and nations cannot range in general above the 
 level of their allotments. By allotments I mean 
 place of birth, parentage, succeeding years, with all 
 their surroundings. Reflect on the almost inevita- 
 ble fate of one born in China ; on the banks of the 
 Ganges, Missouri, or Niger ; in Constantinople, 
 Boston, New Haven, or Mexico. The most dark, 
 disgraceful pages of civil or ecclesiastical history do 
 not prove that former generations were more corrupt 
 in the sight of God than we are, but simply that 
 their means of exaltation and happiness were inferior 
 to those which we enjoy. All things considered, 
 they did as well as they could. Their capabilities 
 and as})irations could not have been more elevated 
 than the plane of their allotments. 
 
 I have said that this age is more glorious than any 
 of its predecessors. Why ? First, because the hum- 
 bler, poorer, dependent, and industrial classes pos- 
 sess a much larger share of physical comforts than 
 they ever did in former times. When Egypt was in 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 389 
 
 the zenith of prosperity, serfs, poor, broken, and 
 crushed to the dust, built cities, pyramids, and tombs, 
 tilled the ground, and gathered harvests, not for them- 
 selves and children, but for others — a proud aristoc- 
 racy, who looked upon the condition of a laborer as 
 base and dishonorable. What a change has taken 
 place since ! I am satisfied from the best data, that 
 the wealthiest person living in Great Britain six 
 hundred years ago did not enjoy more extended 
 means of physical happiness, than the poorest man 
 in possession of good health and good character now 
 has throughout the United States. Nor is it im- 
 probable that in the year 2500 of the Christian era, 
 the humblest operative will be better off in a tempo- 
 ral point of view than the wealthiest inhabitant of 
 London, New York, or Boston at the present day. 
 The prediction of Dr. Franklin is not absurd, that 
 the time will arrive when the burden of immod- 
 erate and oppressive labor will be taken off from 
 all classes, and the most impoverished will have 
 leisure enough, every day, to cultivate their minds, 
 acquire mental wealth, enjoy society, and prepare 
 themselves for the destinies of a higher existence. 
 
 Again, I thank God that I have been permitted to 
 live under the best civil government which the world 
 has ever seen. I rejoice that my birth was in the 
 land which Washington, Franklin, Adams, Jeffer- 
 son, and their illustrious compatriots, rescued from 
 the severest of all the curses which have afflicted 
 our race — the curse of tyranny and superstition 
 combined. Above all other parts of the world, I love 
 the soil where repose the ashes of those noble and 
 
390 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 magnanimous fathers, who, in the spirit of the blessed 
 Jesus, gave up their all — wealth, ease, sacred honor, 
 and life itself, for the benefit of after ages, for the po- 
 litical and moral regeneration of a world, I love the 
 soil in which my mortal remains must shortly be 
 laid, but not without the transporting hope that it 
 will be trodden, to the last verge of time, by innu- 
 merable millions, free, enlightened, and happy. 
 
 That God, who was a Friend, Benefactor, and Sa- 
 viour in the eventful and perilous exigencies which 
 marked our progress during the protracted war of 
 the revolution, till we had attained a place and name 
 among the nations of the earth, has been our shield 
 and protection ever since, and is this day enriching the 
 inhabitants of the United States with a greater vari- 
 ety and amount of the means of happiness than were 
 ever bestovv'cd upon any other people, either of an- 
 cient or modern times. Within a little more than 
 two centuries, large tracts of the vast continent on 
 which we are placed have been changed from an un- 
 broken, unsightly wilderness, into a succession of 
 rich plains, fertile valleys, green meadows, waving 
 wheat fields, gardens, orchards, peaceful hamlets, 
 smiling villages, splendid cities, with all the diversi- 
 fied laws, institutes, manufactures, charities, and 
 public works that are requisite to raise a community 
 to the highest enjoyment of art, science, social re- 
 finement, and the countless blessings of Christianity. 
 Our territory reaches from the regions of eternal 
 ice to the unfading verdure and flowers of the trop- 
 ics. On the one hand it touches the shores of the 
 Atlantic, on the other those of the Pacific. We 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 391 
 
 have every variety of climate and soil, and inex- 
 haustible resources of mineral wealth. If all our 
 natural riches were developed, we could easily feed 
 and clothe the present population of the globe. Our 
 commerce spreads its white pinions to the winds of 
 every zone, ploughs the bosom of every sea, and brings 
 home the fruits and treasures of all latitudes. Our 
 schools and seminaries pour forth the light of knowl- 
 edge upon the humblest persons, however unadorned 
 by wealth or unknown to fame. Our ciiurches, from 
 the unpretending chapel made of logs to the costly 
 sanctuary of granite or marble, stand open for all, 
 without distinction, where they may enter to worship 
 God according to the dictates of their own con- 
 sciences. Our young artists are attracting notice, 
 praise, and admiration in London, Paris, Florence, 
 and even the Eternal City, Rome. I heard the cele- 
 brated Carlyle say that the eloquence of our Con- 
 gress, pulpit, and press was unsurpassed by that of 
 any nation in Europe. 
 
 Where on earth is the country that can, at this 
 moment, be pronounced in so prosperous a condition 
 as ours ? Traverse the whole globe, and where can 
 you find a land in possession of so many blessings, 
 contrasted with so few disadvantages, as tliis in which 
 Providence has assigned ns a home ? God be 
 praised that, contrary to the predictions of its ene- 
 mies, both foreign and domestic, the American re- 
 public stands forth to-day, in the sight of heaven and 
 before an admiring world, beaming with all the fresh- 
 ness and bloom of a young existence ; perfecting her 
 establishments by the collected wisdom of all former 
 
392 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 ages, and the fruits of its own rich experiences ; a 
 lighthouse to the whole earth, an example to all who 
 would be free, the common benefactress of humanity, 
 the destined redeemer of all the enslaved, oppressed, 
 and injured millions that tread our globe. The 
 
 words RATIONAL, EQUAL, WELL-DEFINED, CONSTITUTION- 
 AL LIBERTY for all, is the motto inscribed upon our 
 banner, our device, our polar star, the secret of all our 
 glory. This diffuses the lustre of heaven over every 
 part of our land ; this is the crowning beauty of our 
 mountains, plains, valleys, rivers, lakes, seas, homes, 
 schools, churches, tribunals of justice, and halls of 
 legislation ; this is an essential ingredient of the at- 
 mosphere we breathe, and is embedded in our soil 
 firmly as the granite of the ever-enduring hills. 
 
 The American government rests upon the great 
 principles that God is the Father of all ; that all 
 men are equally precious in his sight — equally im- 
 portant in the counsels of the Infinite One ; and that 
 we are under sacred, most imperative obligations to 
 respect the rights, welfare, and happiness of all, 
 whatever may be their origin or color. Instead of 
 traducing, depreciating, and wishing to dissolve this 
 government, those who enjoy its blessings should 
 strive to maintain it inviolate, as a legacy of inesti- 
 mable value, dearer than life itself, and be willing 
 to pour out their hearts' blood, if necessary, to 
 transmit it unimpaired to succeeding generations. 
 May the universal Father, in his infinite mercy, 
 grant that, as age after age shall pass away, adding 
 to our population and multiplying our resources, the 
 people of this great republic may become more and 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 393 
 
 more wise, thankful, and self-governed, more devoted 
 in their attachment to private and to public virtue, 
 be actuated by more generous affections for each 
 other and for mankind, and be ennobled by a pro- 
 founder consciousness of their responsibility to the 
 God of nations. 
 
 Every point relative to the perpetuity of our Union 
 is of general, transcendent, and ineffable moment ; 
 for the experiment which we are now making is to 
 determine the problem whether the whole human 
 family will hereafter be free, intelligent, and happy, 
 or ignorant, enslaved, and miserable. Were I not 
 permitted to believe that the unfavorable predictions 
 relative to the stability of our precious institutions, 
 uttered by so many, were the mere effusions of dis- 
 appointed, murmuring, splenetic ambition, in de- 
 spair I should bid adieu even to the hopes of the 
 universal triumph of civil and religious freedom, and 
 the exaltation of man to millennial glory. 
 
 Once more, I thank God that my lot has been cast 
 in an age rendered illustrious by the rapid increase 
 and more extended diffusion of useful knowledge. 
 When Lord Bacon wrote the Novum Organum, 
 when Newton composed his Principia, and Locke 
 wrote his Essays, wlien Milton and Shakspeare sang 
 the never-dying strains of poetry divine, the idea of 
 a common school education had not been seriously 
 entertained by any of the wise men living in Great 
 Britain. It was thought that the mass of the people 
 were destined to grope their way forever in a thick 
 night of ignorance and mental bondage. What a 
 revolution has passed over that country since ! 
 
394 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 As to our own happy land, I may almost say, with- 
 out qualification, that the humblest operatives under- 
 stand reading, writing, and numbers. They have 
 their newspapers, journals, books, and literary asso- 
 ciations. After the labors of the day are over, instead 
 of going to pass the evening in some haunt of dis- 
 sipation, they repair to a lyceum or club room, 
 where the lecturer spreads out before them the glit- 
 tering phenomena of the heavens, or the recently- 
 developed wonders of geology. In these calm, 
 peaceful retreats, they listen to able discussions on 
 the weightiest matters of history, law, political sci- 
 ence, and religion. On the Sabbath, they can go 
 to the church, and, with perfect freedom and safety, 
 criticise the sermon they have heard. If it so 
 please, they boldly proclaim that the preacher is in 
 error, and that his discourse was a miserable failure. 
 When Calvin lived, and preached in Geneva, no per- 
 son could openly condemn his creed or homilies, 
 without being exposed to imprisonment, exile, or 
 some other form of martyrdom. 
 
 But in our day, the pulpit is less gloomy, appalling, 
 and repulsive. It is no longer chiefly employed in 
 sending forth what have been called the thunders, 
 lightning, and anathemas of divine wrath, but, clothed 
 with beauty and love, it speaks the language of a 
 fond mother to her dear children. It has come 
 down from the cold, misty, mountainous regions of 
 dogma and denunciation, to describe, in terms which 
 the dullest intellect can understand, and in tones 
 sufficient to soften the hardest heart, the boundless 
 wonders of a Saviour's love. Most encourai^ing 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 395 
 
 fact, the pulpit is ceasing to philosophize, and de- 
 lights rather to point the poor sinner to that cross 
 which is the memento of infinite mercy — the me- 
 mento of that light with which Heaven is pleased to 
 irradiate this dark valley of graves, and make sor- 
 row, bereavement, and mortality rounds in that 
 spiritual ladder on which we may ascend to ever- 
 lasting mansions in the skies. 
 
 Furthermore, I rejoice to have lived in a day when 
 the Bible has passed through the severest ordeal to 
 which it has ever been subjected, and has come forth 
 from the trial, shining not only with undimmed, but 
 with increasing brightness, Strauss and his co- 
 adjutors have employed all the resources of their 
 learning and fascinating style to throw discredit 
 upon the miracles of the New Testament. Let 
 Christianity be assailed by every weapon that can be 
 found in the armory of sound discussion and legiti- 
 mate reasoning. It is ill defended by refusing audi- 
 ence or toleration to the objections of honest in- 
 quirers. We pay but a poor compliment to the 
 sacred volume by supposing it liable to be injured or 
 destroyed by the pens of philosophers. Could the 
 ablest scholars, by putting forth their profound and 
 charming productions, overthrow men's confidence 
 in arithmetic, Euclid's geometry, Cicero, Virgil, 
 Newton, or Laplace ? Could their pens demolish the 
 loom, the plough, the press, the chronometer, the 
 compass, the railway, the telegraph, or the steamer? 
 No more can their words destroy Moses and the 
 prophets, Jesus and his apostles, whose writings have 
 withstood the assaults of infidelity for so many cen- 
 
396 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 tiiries. A book that is adapted to man's highest and 
 eternal wants, and to his noblest aspirations, can 
 never die. This is the secret of that indestructible 
 life which the Holy Scriptures possess. 
 
 Mr. David Hume was at the head of a literary 
 club in Edinburgh, composed of the greatest scholars 
 in Scotland. These gentlemen openly avowed the 
 opinion, that at the expiration of one hundred years, 
 the Bible, in the minds of enlightened men, would 
 stand upon the same level with all the uninspired 
 poets and philosophers of superior genius that have 
 come down to us from by-gone ages. A century has 
 passed, and what has become of the prophecy ? The 
 Bible is more loved and rightly appreciated now 
 than it was then. The tornado of infidelity, all 
 these long years, has been sweeping over tlie sturdy 
 trunk of revealed religion. " It has not even been 
 bent by the fury of the storm ; none of its leaves, 
 flowers, fruits, nor branches, have been shaken down, 
 nor so much as the dependent parasites clinging to 
 their tops." There is hardly a family in the United 
 States, that can read, where the Bible is not found 
 and cherished. As the clouds which interpose be- 
 tween us and the rising sun often reflect the richest 
 hues, so the works written to obscure the word of 
 God have only served to unfold and recommend its 
 divine, ineffaceable glories. And now an open, deep, 
 genuine reverence for the gospel characterizes the 
 freest, profoundest, and most successful inquiries in 
 science, philosophy, and literature. 
 
 The divines of my native state — Massachusetts — 
 have been foremost in their endeavors to restore the 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 397 
 
 Scriptures to their original simplicity, power, and 
 glory. In no part of the world has the spirit of im- 
 provement achieved greater wonders, since the com- 
 mencement of the present century, than in New 
 England. All over the variegated surface of that 
 romantic land, new villages, towns, and even large 
 cities, have suddenly sprung into existence, as if 
 indeed raised by the magician's wand. But more 
 memorable than any outward creations or triumplis, 
 that reflect so much glory on the north, are the val- 
 uable researches and discoveries which her accom- 
 plished scholars have lately made in the departments 
 of biblical criticism and theological science. In the 
 spirit of a humble, but thorough, fearless, and inde- 
 pendent inquiry, the New England clergy have ven- 
 tured to scrape off the moss from the rock of " eter- 
 nal truth," not, as enemies insinuate, with the pre- 
 sumptuous, wicked intention of erasing the words 
 engraved thereon " by the diamond pen of inspira- 
 tion," but rather to ascertain whether the autographs 
 — the original letters inscribed upon these unwasting 
 pillars — have not been slurred, glossed, changed, or 
 corrupted, during a long course of dark and super- 
 stitious ages, by the dexterous management of un- 
 inspired, unauthorized hands. In otlicr words, they 
 have simply taken the liberty to discriminate be- 
 tween what is human and divine in their formulas, 
 creeds, catechisms, religious books, and sacred insti- 
 tutions in general. 
 
 To me it is a subject of thanksgiving, that within 
 the last few years, a new and more efficient system 
 of religious literature has been brought into exist- 
 34 
 
398 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ence. The Roman Catholics, the Episcopalians, 
 and the various Protestant denominations, arc en- 
 lightening the American people with vade mecums, 
 prayer books, spiritual guides, sermons, pamphlets, 
 reviews, newspapers, and tracts, on innumerable sub- 
 jects, adapted to all classes of minds. Who can de- 
 scribe the extent, variety, and riches of our Sunday 
 school and juvenile libraries ? When I was a boy, 
 there was only one book in our Union, besides the 
 Scriptures, especially intended for the use of chil- 
 dren — the New England Primer. Now, religious 
 truth is served up in every shape most likely to ar- 
 rest, beguile, and please the youthful mind — in a 
 fable, a romance, a poem, a story, even in books of 
 travels, of natural history, and natural philosophy. 
 Some clergymen object to these modes of conveying 
 spiritual instruction, but, as it seems to me, without 
 good reason. The great Mr. Wesley introduced 
 some tunes into church music, which for a long time 
 had been appropriated exclusively to plays, theatres, 
 and convivial entertainments. In reply to those 
 who censured him for doing so, he said he had no 
 idea that sin and Satan should have all the best mu- 
 sic to themselves. So I would say of fine literature, 
 — let it not be entirely devoted to the cause of irre- 
 ligion. It is an engine of inconceivable power, and 
 is just beginning to be wielded with effect for tlie 
 promotion of Christianity. In our religious reading, 
 there are, to be sure, for the present, some crudities 
 and imperfections ; but these will soon be removed, 
 when a stream of pure, beautiful erudition will flow 
 forth, spreading a divine light and life over every 
 part of our beloved republic. 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 399 
 
 Within the last year, I have heard many worthy 
 and enhghtened persons remark, that to their eyes, 
 Christianity has of late been rapidly declining in the 
 United States, and that if it go on much longer to 
 fall in the same ratio, it will soon be obliterated from 
 the map and hearts of the American people. Now, 
 such a gloomy prediction is alike opposite to my judg- 
 ment, faith, and strongest aspirations ; I cannot bear to 
 entertain it ; I cannot believe that it has the slightest 
 foundation in truth. To me the very reverse is the 
 case. Christianity, I think, has been more flourish- 
 ing among us the last thirty years than at any for- 
 mer period. 
 
 The basis of this opinion is the universally ac- 
 knowledged fact, that within this time there has been 
 a great and unprecedented multiplication of churches 
 and kindred organizations among us, and that of 
 every name and denomination. I rejoice in the rapid 
 increase of all those various societies called churches, 
 as furnishing conclusive evidence of the growth of 
 genuine Christianity ; for they all recognize the 
 Bible as their standard of faith and practice. I 
 look with unqualified delight upon the founding and 
 building up of a temple for the use of any sect. 
 AYhen I behold such a sight, I do not pause to ask 
 what it is called, nor what its particular creed and 
 forms are to be ; nor do I cherish any other wish 
 concerning them, than that they may be congenial 
 to the taste and advancement of the congregation 
 for whose benefit the new edifice is erected. Every 
 church seems to me a most beautiful spot, like an 
 oasis in a surrounding desert. I regard it as adding 
 
400 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 
 
 important strength to that holy bond, which I trust 
 will cement in unbroken, everlasting union the con- 
 federated states which compose our great republic. 
 It is like gazing upon a lovely landscape, to sec a 
 building where my fellow-behigs meet to forget for 
 an hour the vanities and vexations of earth ; to offer 
 their united orisons to a common Father ; to trust in 
 that Redeemer who died for them, who is the con- 
 necting link between earth and heaven, the mortal 
 and deathless, time and eternity ; to obtain a partial 
 respite from the ennui and burdens of life, by catch- 
 ing glimpses of that higher and better world re- 
 vealed in the gospel, towering in all the glories of 
 immortality beyond these shadowy and evanescent 
 scenes. 
 
 There is another proof that evangelical religion is 
 on the increase in this land. I allude to the rapid 
 decline of the spirit of sectarianism. The fact is 
 not denied. As explanatory of this phenomenon, I 
 will state a curious circumstance. For hundreds of 
 years, the different denominations of Christians were 
 alienated and kept asunder by the sincerest convic- 
 tion that erroneous opinions, honestly hold, were a 
 sufficient cause for refusing to fraternize with each 
 other, though they might all agree in accepting the 
 Scriptures as a divinely-inspired standard of faith 
 and duty. In the present day, this ground is almost 
 entirely abandoned. Now, a reception of the Bible, 
 without any particular creed, is nearly the universal 
 bond of Christian union. It is a memorable fact, 
 tliat the only heresy condemned in the New Testa- 
 ment, is not an error of the understanding, honestly 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 401 
 
 entertained, but a sin of the heart. St. Paul teaches 
 that the only Antichrist is an evil intention, a bad state 
 of the affections — "hatred, variance, emulation, 
 wrath, strife, envyings, ill-will, and murder ; " but 
 that all who are actuated by the pure sentiments of 
 "joy, peace, meekness, gentleness, goodness, forbear- 
 ance, love, and charity, are acceptable to God, and 
 entitled to the respect and approbation of man." 
 Here is a broad scriptural platform, on wliich all 
 the clergy and laity of Cliristendom may meet, to 
 maintain a heartfelt, an harmonious, and a heavenly 
 intercourse. 
 
 It is laid down by Washington, in his Farewell 
 Address, that a belief in the principles of revelation 
 is requisite to make a man a good member of polit- 
 ical society. lie expresses the opinion that, without 
 the aid of the Bible, no form of free government 
 can have a lengthened existence. Thank Heaven, 
 the humble Christian pastor can now greet as his 
 co-laborers, in commending and upholding the word 
 of God, presidents, senators, governors, and repre- 
 sentatives, judges, members of the bar, all the learned 
 professions, and every one of superior grade in in- 
 tellect and influence throughout the land. So long 
 as all feel that the glorious superstructure of our 
 freedom is based upon the sacred volume, must they 
 not cling to it as our ark, our palladium, the sheet 
 anchor of our nation's prosperity and glory ? 
 
 It is not enough that reform, secular improvement 
 
 in every department, arts, education, schools, and 
 
 learning sliould be carried on among us with all 
 
 possible skill and energy. They, indeed, are all 
 
 34* 
 
402 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 wanted, and are divinely appointed instruments of 
 usefulness and refinement. But something more is 
 requisite to perpetuate our civil institutions, which 
 is forever beyond their reach, too mighty for mere 
 human agents and instrumentalities to accomplish. 
 This is the sublime ideas of God, virtue, and immor- 
 tality, derivable only from the sacred Scriptures. 
 This is the subordination of the hearts of the Amer- 
 ican people, with their dark, wild, wayward, ungov- 
 erned passions, to the spirit and laws of the Chris- 
 tian religion. A nation may possess a boundless 
 physical prosperity, yet, without the guiding and 
 guardian genius of the gospel, it will be only a more 
 shining mark for the shafts of destruction ; like 
 some gallant ship, the owner's pride and glory, 
 richly freighted, but launched upon the boisterous 
 main without star, rudder, or compass, to enable her 
 to find a haven of safety. If the majority of this 
 republic repudiate Christian principles, our existence 
 will indeed be short and troubled, and we shall 
 speedily go down, to be mingled with the ashes of 
 our predecessors in the vast cemetery of departed 
 states and empires. 
 
 In consequence of early training and associations, 
 I left my native state (Massachusetts) carrying with 
 me the prejudices which the people of New England 
 are very generally accustomed to cherish towards 
 their neighbors at the south. Among the wise men 
 who directed my education, it was an undisputed 
 principle, that instances of superior intellect, culti- 
 vated taste, and high moral worth, were seldom 
 found in the slaveholdiug states. They seemed to 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 403 
 
 be unconscious of the fact that philosophic culture, 
 creative art, and the inspirations of immortal 
 genius, rose the highest in the civilized nations of 
 antiquity, when three fourths, at least, of their in- 
 habitants were disfranchised, and doomed through 
 life to endure the evils of a slavery vastly more 
 aggravated than that which now exists in any part 
 of the world. 
 
 The Bible furnishes incontrovertible evidence that 
 slaveholders may be saints, sages, apostles, and pa- 
 triots ; that it is quite possible for them to exercise 
 towards their dependants (and that in the great- 
 est perfection) all those strong and tender sensibil- 
 ities comprehended in the precept, " Thou shalt 
 love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy 
 neighbor as thyself." For the wise and holy men 
 whose names are mentioned in Genesis and other 
 portions of the Old Testament, and whose charac- 
 ters are declared to l)e models of benevolence, jus- 
 tice, and patriotism, in accordance Avith the express 
 permission of Heaven, sustained precisely the same 
 relation to that part of their families denominated 
 servants in Scripture, as southern masters, at the 
 present day, do to their slaves. Yes, in every age 
 and clime, as far back as history runs, the greatest, 
 wisest, and best men on earth, both in theory and 
 practice, have sanctioned the principle of slavery. 
 How absurd, then, the idea that it is of necessity 
 only corrupting and deleterious in its effects on the 
 character of masters and the most precious interests 
 of civilization ! 
 
 For forty years past, it has been my lot to reside 
 
404 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 
 
 south of Mason and Dixon's line. I went there 
 fresh from the Theological Seminary at Andover, 
 Massachusetts, a firm believer in the superiority of 
 the north, in every respect, over all the rest of the 
 Union. Though a youth " to fortune and to fame 
 unknown," I was cordially welcomed, and treated 
 with a more noble hospitality, a more marked and 
 uniform kindness, than I had ever experienced in the 
 land of the Puritans. I found the slaveholders in 
 general possessed of a wider range of knowledge, 
 much more refined, gentle, and condescending in 
 manners, far superior in the graces and amenities of 
 social intercourse, to those regarded as well-bred 
 and respectable people throughout the cities, towns, 
 and villages of New England. I was sorry that the 
 prejudices of education and northern society had led 
 me, even in thought, to undervalue and disparage a 
 large class of fellow-citizens entitled to my sinccrest 
 respect and admiration. In a worldl}'- point of view, 
 I had nothing calculated to recommend me to their 
 civilities and attention. Yet I was admitted into the 
 most distinguished circles as a friend, equal, and 
 intimate companion. Nowhere, in any part of the 
 world, have I ol)served less of aristocratic preten- 
 sions, of pharisaic, cold-hearted, unsympathizing 
 conduct towards the poor, humble, and unfortunate. 
 By an acclimating process suffered in Louisville; 
 Kentucky, my life was brought near unto death. 
 After convalescence commenced, when still in a very 
 weak and precarious condition, an opulent planter in 
 the neighborhood, witli whom I was personally un- 
 acquainted, but who had once listened to my words 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 405 
 
 from the pulpit, heard of my illness, and, unsolicited, 
 paid me a visit. Immediately, he employed the re- 
 quisite means to have me removed from the heated, 
 enervating atmosphere of the city to his own de- 
 lightful villa, which was fanned by cool, refreshing 
 breezes, and replenished witli rural charms in the 
 greatest variety and abundance. His wife and 
 daughters nursed me with as much assiduity and 
 attention as the most affectionate mother could be- 
 stow on a beloved child. Such unexpected kindness 
 from the liands of total strangers revived my sinking 
 spirits, enlarged my views of human nature, and 
 taught me the sublime lesson, that the noblest forms 
 of Christian excellence are not confined to any par- 
 ticular class, creed, sect, or condition of humanity. 
 
 This gentleman, who under God was instrumental 
 in preserving me from an early grave, had always 
 lived in the State of Kentucky, and never journeyed 
 beyond its boundaries, except in a single instance. 
 Yet he was a person of varied and extensive infor- 
 mation, a great reader, and a profound logician. I 
 have met but few clergymen in any land whose con- 
 versation was more edifying, even in relation to those 
 topics of inquiry peculiar to the clerical profession. 
 In defiance of the narrowness of early teaching, and 
 the prevailing forms of faith around him, he had 
 unconsciously imbibed, from a careful and systematic 
 perusal of the Holy Scriptures, Unitarian views of 
 Christianity. At that time, my own creed respecting 
 the Trinity was Calvinistic. Touching this theme, I 
 had listened to the reasonings of the greatest theolo- 
 gians at Yale College and Andover, and fancied my- 
 
406 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 self in possession of all that could be said on the 
 subject. 
 
 One day, this gentleman proposed to mo tlie fol- 
 lowiiio- question : " Does the Bible teach that there is 
 but one uncreated, undivided, indivisible Being in 
 the universe, possessing the attributes of infinite, 
 indei)endent life, power, wisdom, truth, rectitude, 
 and love ? " This question was answered in the 
 affirmative — "There is only owe God.'''' He then 
 added, " You cannot, therefore, with propriety, use 
 the term Trinity to denote the idea that there arc 
 three separate persons or beings in the Godhead — 
 three individuals, each of whom is absolutely infinite, 
 in the divine nature ; for you have already said 
 that there is but one boundless individiial, or person, 
 in existence. "What, then, do you mean, when you 
 say that there are ///rce persons in the Godhead?" 
 I was compelled to acknowledge, after a lengthened 
 discussion, that it was impossible to give any definite, 
 rational, or scriptural signification of the word Trin- 
 itij, except upon the plan of exegesis adopted by the 
 Unitarians. From that day to the present, I have 
 uniformly repudiated the distinguishing views of the 
 Athanasian creed. I am under everlasting obliga- 
 tions to this gentleman, denounced by the fanatics as 
 a godless slaveholder, for opening to me trains of 
 thought, by the pursuit of which I was so happy as 
 to obtain an answer to my doubts, and rest to my 
 inquiries, in regard to one of the most difficult and 
 sublime themes of Christian theology. And if I had 
 passed my life in the Orthodox atmosphere of my 
 native state, I should probably have died in darkness 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 407 
 
 and unbelief as to the real character of my heavenly 
 Father, and the true teachings of his Son Jesus 
 Clu'ist, our Lord and Saviour. 
 
 The instructive conversations which I enjoyed, 
 when entertained l)y the hospitalities of this ben- 
 efactor, led me to change and modify my ideas on 
 many important to])ics relating to morals, society, 
 political science, and religion. To him might be a|> 
 plied the following lines : — 
 
 " Unbiased or by favor or by spite ; 
 Not dully prepossessed, nor blindly ri^ht ; 
 Though learned, well-bred ; and though well-bred, sincere ; 
 Jilessed with a taste exact, yet unconfined, 
 A knowledge both of books and humankind, 
 Generous converse, a soul exempt from pride, 
 Who loved to praise with reason on his side." 
 
 When I l)ocnme strong enough to travel, this noble- 
 hearted man sent me off, in his own private carriage, 
 and at his own expense, to seek the recuperation of 
 my health at a ccleljratcd watering place. If I had 
 been a son, he could not have done more for me. 
 When memory retraces the past, I cannot call to 
 mind a more beautiful character. He was adorned 
 with every species of moral excellence — wisdom, 
 humility, unsullied honor, unswerving truth ; all the 
 gentle, soft, social, and refined virtues — mildness, 
 compassion, generosity ; and the most conscientious 
 regard to the rights and welfare of the bondmen 
 whom God had committed to his hands. Yet he was 
 a self-made man. His genius had been developed 
 entirely l)y private study and application, without the 
 fostering aid of any public institution of learning. 
 
408 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Having been graduated at Yale College, under the 
 presidency of Dr. Dwiglit, as a general student, in 
 the regular progress of a university education, I 
 was of course made acquainted with the outlines of 
 the principal branches of human knowledge. Not- 
 withstanding, during my stay witli this gentleman, 
 no topic of conversation engaged our attention which 
 did not appear familiar to him. Indeed, the com- 
 bined resources of science and literature seemed to 
 shed their lustre over his intellect and words, Avitli 
 the exception of what are called the ancient classics, 
 or a knowledge of Latin and Greek authors in their 
 vernacular tongues. The best translations of these 
 works he had diligently perused. 
 
 Now, although, in my forty years' sojourn at the 
 south, I have not met numerous instances, in rural 
 districts, of persons equally enlightened and exalted 
 with the one just named, yet I can testify that, 
 throughout the entire range of the slavcholding 
 communities, the owners and cultivators of the soil 
 are quite as intelligent as in any section of the free 
 states. And although the children of poor parents 
 too often grow up with little or no schooling, yet 
 from other sources they obtain a degree of knowledge 
 vastly superior to what they are generally reputed to 
 possess by their northern brethren. In almost every 
 family, however humble, the newspaper, teeming with 
 the thoughts of the best scholars, statesmen, and 
 thinkers of the land sheds a cheering light. Even 
 the cabin or cottage, whose inmates are devoid of the 
 rudiments of learning, usually has within its reach 
 some neighbor who reads and writes for his unlet- 
 
KEY. THEODOEE CLAPP. 409 
 
 tered acquaintances. There is hardly a hamlet or 
 house in the Southern States which is not embraced 
 in the circuit of some itinerant Methodist or Bap- 
 tist clergyman. By preaching, Sunday schools, class 
 meetings, and other instrumentalities, the noble and 
 self-sacrificing pioneers of the gospel spread abroad 
 much valual)le iriformation on secular matters among 
 the ignorant, besides initiating them into the funda- 
 mental principles of the Christian faith. Moreover, 
 the universal practice of listening to popular orations 
 from aspirants for political offices, which prevails at 
 the south, is a great means of diffusing knowledge 
 and wisdom throughout all the humbler classes of 
 society, so that most of those who have not enjoyed 
 the advantages of even a rudimental education have 
 the intelligence requisite to fill their stations in life 
 with honor to themselves and usefulness to others. 
 Often have I formed the acquaintance of persons 
 that could not write nor read, who moved with repu- 
 tation and success in the sphere of duty which had 
 been assigned them by Providence. Among such I 
 have seen many pure-minded, conscientious, and 
 lovely characters. 
 
 I have been struck with the marked and peculiar 
 character of southerners, in their hospitality to those 
 who come to reside among them, either from the old 
 world, or from the free states of the Union. In al- 
 most every parish of Louisiana are persons living 
 born in New England, whom the generous encour- 
 agement of their Creole neighbors has raised from 
 indigence and obscurity to the possession of wealth, 
 honor, and usefulness. Among the Catholic Creoles 
 35 
 
410 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OP 
 
 there are persons not imfrequently to be met, whose 
 lives reflect the highest charms of moral excellence 
 — integrity, truth, honor, disinterestedness, and 
 Christian worth. When I call to mind the pure, 
 high-minded, liberal friends, who were my stay and 
 support throughout the trying scenes which consti- 
 tuted my allotments in the Crescent City, I can say, 
 in the language of Scripture, " If I forget them, let 
 my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not re- 
 member them, let my tongue cleave to the roof of 
 my mouth, if I prefer not them above my chief joy." 
 
 I remember that the purchase of Louisiana, dur- 
 ing Jefferson's administration, was considered by my 
 venerable father, and the majority of wise and good 
 men in Massachusetts, as a measure imperilling the 
 perpetuity of our Union, as fraught with the most 
 destructive consequences to the peace and prosperity 
 of the American people. The clergy condemned it 
 in terms of coarse and bitter denunciation, pro- 
 nounced from the pulpit, amid the holy services 
 of the sanctuary. Mr. Jefferson, in a printed ser- 
 mon, was called a " traitor," " infidel," " profligate," 
 " an apostate from the political principles of Wash- 
 ington and his illustrious compeers." What has 
 been the result ? 
 
 Fifty years have passed since the dreadful deed 
 was done which annexed Louisiana to these con- 
 federated states. And our population has grown 
 from five to nearly thirty millions of inhabitants. 
 An area larger than that of the old thirteen states 
 has ceased to be a wilderness, and is to-day filled 
 with plantations, towns, cities, churches, schools, 
 
EEV. THEODORE CLAPP. 411 
 
 manufactories, inextinguishable enterprise, learning, 
 equitable laws, and all the unnumbered blessings of 
 the highest civilization. No part of the country has 
 been more benefited by this extension of our terri- 
 tory than the New England people themselves, who 
 once allowed their groundless fears to cheat them 
 into the delusive idea that it would ultimately prove 
 the ruin of our glorious republic. Now they all ex- 
 claim, " What a wise, just, far-seeing, and provident 
 statesman was Jefferson !" He is ranked in the same 
 class with "Washington, Franklin, Adams, Hamilton, 
 and other American patriots of world-wide and ever- 
 lasting renown. And I doubt not but after the lapse 
 of a few years, the intelligent, patriotic men of the 
 north will look back upon the policy and measures 
 of our national government at the present day with 
 approbation and joy, and pronounce them to have 
 been, all things considered, as wise, just, and benefi- 
 cent as those of any preceding administration with 
 which it has pleased Heaven to bless and build up 
 this confederacy of states. 
 
 Humble as I am in every particular, few persons 
 have lived to my age who could call to mind a hap- 
 pier retrospect than that which memory presents to 
 my grateful, contented, and rejoicing heart. I have 
 always had troops of friends, who delighted to do 
 their utmost to promote my honor and prosperity. 
 There is not a person living Avhom I regard as an 
 enemy. Even among those who reprobate my reli- 
 gious teachings as erroneous, and calculated to sow 
 moral contagion, I have many warm and affection- 
 ate friends, who, if it were necessary, would be will- 
 
412 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OP 
 
 ing to lay down their lives to secure my everlasting 
 salvation. In the allotments of a lowly life, Provi- 
 dence has invited me to taste freely of every kind 
 of temporal happiness which earth can afford. For 
 though without wealth, I have had access to all the 
 selfish pleasures which the largest wealth is able to 
 bestow. 
 
 To my eye the future, whether relating to myself 
 or to the entire race of man, — the future both of 
 time and eternity, — is inexpressibly bright and glo- 
 rious. The world is just beginning to see the power 
 and sublimities of the principle expressed in the 
 following words of inspiration : " Love your ene- 
 mies, bless them that curse you, do good to them 
 that hate you," &c. Throughout civilized lands it 
 is now the prevailing conviction of the wisest and 
 best of patriots. Christians, and philanthropists, that 
 the resources of that love of which Jesus Christ was 
 a living, spotless embodiment, as set forth in the New 
 Testament, may be so wielded as to overcome all the 
 moral evil on earth. 
 
 The worst person is not totally depraved, nor 
 wholly and forever cast off, and shut out from the 
 vivifying beams of infinite, inexhaustible, unchan- 
 ging Love. The elements of undying virtue lie dor- 
 mant in the most corrupt heart, waiting for the 
 auspicious moment, when, quickened by the Holy 
 Spirit, they will arouse from the trance of sin to run 
 the race of everlasting progression in refinement and 
 glory. No sinner ever was, no sinner ever will be, 
 no sinner ever can be, placed beyond the reach of 
 final redemption. Let the truth that God is love pen- 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 413 
 
 etrate the mists of error and ignorance which becloud 
 the most abandoned mind ; let the veriest wretch feel 
 that the Creator has showered upon him the richest 
 blessings, by ordaining his existence in this world of 
 death and depravity, and that He is infinitely more 
 devoted to the welfare of the poorest sinner than 
 the fondest mother to that of an only and beloved 
 infant, — then the scales would immediately fall from 
 his eyes, allowing him to gaze with unobstructed 
 vision upon the perfections of the Supreme Divinity, 
 and the transporting prospects of a spiritual state 
 rising in all the glories of immortality beyond the 
 dark ruins of earth and time. 
 
 The Bible authorizes us to anticipate a millennial 
 era, when every individual will enjoy the knowledge 
 of God — the only source of man's highest good ; 
 when all the impoverished, prostrate, broken and 
 contaminated millions of our race will rise to intel- 
 lectual culture, freedom, faitli, penitence, sanctity, 
 and that everlasting life which Infinitude, Omnip- 
 otence, Boundless JVIercy has provided for man's 
 present and everlasting inheritance. 
 
 Moreover, it is an item of revealed truth that all 
 the events, errors, and calamities of time are over- 
 ruled by Infinite wisdom, so as to secure the highest 
 happiness of each member of the human family. 
 God cannot be disappointed. He has his own way. 
 His whole pleasure is accomplislied in defiance 
 of the sins and follies of his children. All things 
 are contained in the Eternal Cause, as the oak is 
 contained in the acorn ; and without the will, the ai> 
 35* 
 
41-1 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 pointment of that Cause could never have come into 
 existence, whether good or had. 
 
 " One adequate support 
 TVIidst the calamities of mortal life 
 Exists, one only — an assured belief 
 That the procession of our fate, however 
 Sad, or disturbed, is ordered by a Being 
 Of infinite benevolence and power, 
 Whose everlasting purposes embrace 
 Whatever happens, converting it to good." 
 
 The criminal, the drunkard, the libertine, and the 
 gambler — the most atrocious transgressors of every 
 gi'ade — are unconsciously and every moment under 
 the government of laws which cannot fail to work 
 out, ultimately, the great and beneficent results for 
 which they were created — the enjoyment of a per- 
 fectly holy and happy existence. 
 
 This divine faith has been my panoply against the 
 assaults of foes without and within. It has con- 
 stantly opened to my view a boundless prospect of 
 beauty, a prospect all brightness and beatitude, un- 
 dimmed by the clouds of gloom, despondency, and 
 secret scepticism, which must, of course, darken and 
 chill the souls of those who cannot see Infinite Love 
 enthroned and reigning over the destinies of every hu- 
 man being throughout time and eternity. When I 
 look upon the most forbidding forms of sin and suffer- 
 ing around me, I am encouraged by the teaching of 
 Scripture, that they are the necessary means, to us 
 inscrutable, of spreading before an admiring universe 
 the sublimest dispensations and counsels of Heaven's 
 highest wisdom and benevolence. I am happy be- 
 cause Jesus Christ has enabled me to see the hand 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 415 
 
 of God directing all the events and ordinances, fates 
 and fortunes, trials and vicissitudes which make up 
 the allotments of man's mysterious life on earth, caus- 
 ing even disease, disappointment, error, depravity, 
 infatuation, the excesses and frivolities of pleasure, 
 avarice, and pride, sadness and sorrow, oppression 
 and injustice, sickness, mortality, and the grave, to 
 work out issues, like himself, good and glorious only, 
 and whose consequences will be commensurate witli 
 the unfoldings of eternity. 
 
 When I commenced these sketches, it was a part 
 of my programme to dwell with a good deal of par- 
 ticularity on the remarkably noble and generous 
 deportment towards me invariably practised, not by 
 my parishioners alone, but also by all classes of in- 
 habitants in New Orleans, both Protestant and 
 Catholic. In most cases the opposition which I 
 encountered while residing there was started and 
 kept up by strangers and non-residents. My own 
 congregation stood firmly l)y me when I was ma- 
 ligned, denounced, and excommunicated by the gen- 
 eral voice of ministers and churches beyond the lim- 
 its of New Orleans. There, in the darkest hours, 
 when storms of vituperation beat upon me, I al- 
 ways found a refuge, a complete asylum, in the 
 smiles and encouragement, the protection and sym- 
 pathy, of enlightened, disinterested, and munificent 
 friends. I look back upon those instances of kind- 
 ness as the most beautiful spots in the retrospect of 
 the past, as the happiest scenes of my earthly allot- 
 ments, and with the liveliest emotions of joy and 
 gratitude to my heavenly Father. 
 
416 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Though receiving a salary of five thousand dollars 
 a year, yet I laid up nothing, in consequence of in- 
 cessant disbursements for the relief of the distress 
 and destitution which parochial visits or direct appli- 
 cations brought me acquainted with, nearly every 
 day of my life. Who can refuse to administer to 
 the wants of the sick and dying within his reach ? 
 But though always poor, I was never embarrassed or 
 straitened, with respect to either the necessaries or 
 comforts of life. The bounty of my personal friends, 
 when the church treasury happened to be empty, was 
 a rich and inexhaustible bank, and my drafts there- 
 on, however exorbitant, were never dishonored. My 
 parishioners did not care to ask what my poor ser- 
 vices were worth, upon the quid pro quo principle of 
 commercial transactions, but simply what was neces- 
 sary to supply my reasonable wants. No minister 
 ever lived in the United States more blessed with 
 the sunshine of warm, liberal, and unwavering 
 friends, than I have been. They threw over me the 
 S3gis of their protection in the dark hour when the 
 storm of popular prejudice and persecuting clamor 
 was imperilling, not simply my standing in the 
 church, my Christian character, but also my reputa- 
 tion as a man of honor and fair dealing. My con- 
 gregation enriched me with unfailing stores of sym- 
 pathy and love, more precious, in the estimation of a 
 right-minded pastor, than all the gold of California. 
 The attachment which always characterized my rela- 
 tion to the church in New Orleans is dimly shadowed 
 forth in the following communication : — 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 417 
 
 To the Members of the First Congregational Unitarian ChurcJi, 
 New Orleans, Louisiana. 
 
 Dearly Beloved Brethren: Compelled by ill 
 health to relinquish a pastoral connection of thirty- 
 five years' standing, — a connection endeared to me 
 by all that is sacred, precious, and affecting in 
 memory, by those absorbing and unspeakable hopes, 
 Avhich, crossing the theatre of time and the gulf of 
 death, open to our view the ever-expanding scenes, 
 wonders, and glories of an immortal being, — the 
 mournful duty devolves upon me of bidding you 
 each and all a most affectionate farewell ! Fare- 
 well ! I have written the word weeping — with a 
 heart overflowing with those deep and tender emo- 
 tions which no language has power to express. 
 
 For a long time, it has been one of my strongest 
 desires that I might be permitted to breathe my last 
 in your presence, surrounded by those who are as 
 dear to me as my own soul. Yes, it was ever to me 
 a most cherished, favorite hope, that the hands of 
 kind parishioners would at last close my eyes, and 
 consign my frail body to its final resting place, to the 
 long, peaceful sleep of the tomb — that gate of a 
 nobler life, that portal through which, after the trials, 
 distresses, and bereavements of time are over, we 
 shall pass to enter upon joys unimaginable, unal- 
 loyed, and unceasing, in the presence of God, and 
 Jesus, and all the loved and lost ones of our earthly 
 pilgrimage. 
 
 But a wise and merciful Father has been pleased 
 to disappoint me ; and this disappointment is the se- 
 
418 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 verest trial wliicli I have ever been called on to en- 
 dure. There are hours when it comes down upon 
 me like a crushing, insupportable burden. I solicit 
 an interest in jowr daily prayers, that the grace of 
 God may be sufficient for me. New Orleans is ren- 
 dered to my soul the sweetest spot on earth, by in- 
 numerable associations of the most interesting char- 
 acter, by those heartfelt attachments, by those joyous 
 and sorrowful experiences, and by tliose elevated, 
 sanctifying contemplations and labors with respect to 
 the great themes of religion, which the oblivious 
 waters of time, change, or death itself can never 
 erase, but will only stamp thereon the seal of an 
 endless perpetuity. 
 
 The happiest portions of my past life were the 
 calm, sacred hours of heavenly peace and satisfaction 
 enjoyed when I met you from Sabbath to Sabbath, to 
 be baptized in the life-giving truths and hopes of 
 Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith — a peace 
 and satisfaction never marred by a single instance of 
 serious alienation, harshness, or discordance of feel- 
 ing, during the thirty-five years' continuance of that 
 most exalted and affecting relationship by which we 
 were united. The spiritual peace of which I have 
 been so long a partaker in your communion is worth 
 more, in my most deliberate estimation, than all the 
 perishable treasures of earth. Most tenderly, sa- 
 credly, and thankfully shall I remember it, until 
 memory has lost its seat in my soul. 
 
 I wish it were in my power to find words to con- 
 vey to you my grateful sense of your uninterrupted 
 friendship and kindness from the beginning of our 
 
REV. THEODORE CLAPP. 419 
 
 acquaintance to the present hour. More especially do 
 I thank you for the considerate and forbearing spirit 
 which you have invariably manifested, in throwing 
 the mantle of charity and oblivion over the numer- 
 ous peculiarities of my constitutional temperament, 
 and the many short-comings and imperfections that 
 marked my professional career whilst with you. I 
 rejoice to hear of the safe arrival of my successor in 
 New Orleans. He comes to you in all the freshness 
 of youth, animated with the fire of a superior genius, 
 ardent piety, noble sensibilities, a copious fund of 
 knowledge, and powers of oratory, by which, united 
 to habits of systematic, persevering exertion, and the 
 blessing of Heaven, he may become a most useful, 
 honored, and brilliant minister of tlie gospel, and 
 build up a church that will be a light and ornament 
 to the city in whicli it has pleased Providence to 
 cast your lot. 
 
 And now, dear brethren, I commend you to God, 
 and to the word of his grace, whicli is able to build 
 you up, and to give you an inheritance among all 
 them which are sanctified. However separated in 
 space, may we be cemented by tender and hallowed 
 memories on earth, and beyond the grave meet again, 
 to unite in the ineffable worship of that temple not 
 made with hands, eternal in the heavens. The grace 
 of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God our Father, 
 and the communion of their Holy Spirit, be with 
 you all, now and forcvermore. Amen. 
 
 T. Clapp. 
 
H 98 89 '^'-^ 
 
\] 
 
 ^ 
 
^0' 
 
 >^ '7^'^ ^^"^ 
 
 
 O,. ^ • « O ' -O "^ *^ » ; t * 
 
 0^ »1V°' '^^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 -^h^ 
 
 
 •f** « 
 -^0^ 
 

 ^0^ 
 
 .4 0xv 
 
 
 
 
 
 V . « • 
 
 
 
 
 
 y . ,^;«^ NOV 89 
 
 _ N. MANCHESTER, 
 
 ^^^ INDIANA 46962 
 
 
 
 0^