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 A 
 
 DISCOURSE 
 
 PKEACIIED IN 
 
 THE FIRST CHURCH, DORCHESTER, 
 
 Sunday, Jan. 22, 18C5. 
 
 By NATHANIEL HALL. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 WALKER, WISE, AND COMPANY, 
 
 245, Washington Street. 
 
 308, Washington Street. 
 
 1865. 
 
 //■ 
 
e: -540 
 
 Dorchester, Jan. 24, 1865. 
 Rev. Nathaniel Hall. 
 
 Dear Sih, — The undersigued, members of the First Parisli, 
 respectfully request the publicatiou of j'our sermon, preached last 
 Sunday morning, in commemoration of the Hon. Edward Everett; 
 believing that it will be a fit and appropriate memorial of the superior 
 character and invaluable labors of our late illustrious citizen, as a 
 Christian gentleman and a true patriot. This town being the birth- 
 place of the great departed statesman and orator, it would seem but 
 just and proper that this noble tribute to his memory should be put in 
 a more permanent form. 
 
 THOMAS GROOM. 
 DANIEL DENNY. 
 JNO. H. ROBINSON. 
 FRANKLIN KING. 
 ELISIIA T. LORING. 
 J. C. LINDSLEY. 
 FRED. W. G. MAY. 
 EBENEZER CLAPP. 
 
 Dorchester, Jan. 25, 1865. 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 In deference to your judgment, I comply with your request, and 
 
 place my sermon in your hands for publication. 
 
 EespectfuUy, 
 
 NATHL. HALL. 
 To Thomas Groom, Daniel Denny, and others. 
 
SERMON. 
 
 "For, behold, the Lord, the Lord of hosts, doth take away from 
 Jerusalem and from Judah the stay and the staff, the honor- 
 able MAN AND THE COUNSELLOR, AND THE ELOQUENT ORATOR." IsR. 
 
 iii. 3. 
 
 1 SHALL not soon forget the feelings with which I 
 heard, on leaving my pulpit last Sunday morning, 
 that Edward Everett was dead. The tidings, I con- 
 fess — whether worthily so or not — were peculiarly 
 depressing to me ; the day wore thenceforth a cloud, 
 above whose shadows I could not rise. And since, 
 throughout the week, the event has been almost con- 
 tinually in mind, the commanding point of thought 
 and reflection. I would speak of him here ; well 
 assured that I am addressing those who have felt with 
 me the shock of the event, and with whom it has 
 also been the week's absorbing theme, — as where, 
 indeed, has it not been? as, from point to point, the 
 tidings have flown through the Great Republic that 
 claimed him as its son ; claimed a common ownership 
 in his fame, as it had enjoyed a common benefit from 
 his labors. I feel that the departure of one of gifts 
 
and a career so remarkable, and who has occupied, 
 and so honorably, such eminent posts in the i)ublic 
 service, has claims upon the pulpit which it has no 
 option but to attempt to meet. 
 
 And there are considerations of a local nature 
 which seem to demand, peculiarly, a mention of him 
 here. Our town claims him as hers, in the fact of 
 his birth within it ; our church as hers, in the ftict 
 of his name's enrolment on its records. Within the 
 present home of one of us he first saw the light. At 
 the hands of my predecessor he received baptism, — 
 brought hither for that purpose, as the Record shows, 
 on the second day of his life. In this immediate 
 neighborhood was passed his earlier boyhood. At 
 our public schools began his mental training, — the 
 training of that intellect which was to command, by 
 the wealth of its acquisitions and the splendor of its 
 eff"usions, the admiration of his generation, and of 
 others beyond it ; that intellect — receptive rather 
 than creative — which drew into itself, with such mar- 
 vellous retention, the world's knowledges ; which 
 roamed, with gleaming sickle, the fields of all its 
 literatures ; which bore away from every mine of 
 thought, by the election of a cultured taste and a 
 native apprcciativeness, their choicest gems, — not to 
 overlay, but to enrich and quicken, and become basis 
 and inspiration of new forms of beauty and new utter- 
 ances of wisdom. 
 
4Vs we think of the boy, — whom there are those 
 among us that remember, Avith his fair face, and curly 
 hair, and marked inteUigence ; as we go further back, 
 and think of the babe, borne hither, from maternal 
 arms, in blank unconsciousness ; and then think of the 
 man, — scholar, orator, statesman, — these among 
 the world's foremost ; as we think of that little brow, 
 bared for that baptismal dew, and then wearing the 
 wreath of a w^orld-accorded fame ; of those lips, 
 knowing no language but the inarticulate plaint of 
 physical unrest, and then holding crowds in breath- 
 less silence by the magic of their speech ; as we think 
 of the infant, in his cradle, and the man, in "Liberty's 
 Cradle," lifting, with beaming intellect and glowing 
 heart, his last public plea ; and then consider the 
 insignificant space that separates these two condi- 
 tions ; that for all this unfolding those few short 
 years were a sufficing term ; that, moreover, all this is 
 but basis and preparation for accelerated growth ; the 
 showing of the first few morning hours of a day, 
 whose sun, for ever ascending, finds never its zenith, 
 — what impressiveness does the conception gain of 
 the capabilities, the greatness, of the human soul, — 
 the possibilities of its future, — the wonders of its 
 destiny ! 
 
 I shall attempt no studied eulogy of the eminent 
 man departed, nor a portraiture, even in outline, of 
 his remarkable career. My purpose is the far hum- 
 
6 
 
 bier one, of presenting some of the points in which 
 his memory claims our especial honor, in which his 
 example has instruction and incentive for us. The 
 air is full of eulogy of him : most of it, doubtless, 
 spontaneous and heartfelt ; but much, as is always in 
 like cases, labored and undiscriminating, — a rhetori- 
 cal marshalling of unqualified superlatives, for whose 
 truth they who use them have no data in their per- 
 sonal knowledge, but only in the supposed public 
 estimate. One can hardly help being offended at the 
 looseness, for the most part, of the eulogium, at their 
 decease, of distinguished men. Where indeed it is 
 the heart's estimate, excess is pardonable, and more 
 than pardonable. There is something beautiful in 
 that obliviousness of the heart to deficiencies and 
 defects, when the individual is no more ; that disposi- 
 tion to see only the praiseworthy and the good ; to 
 see the life in its leading purpose, and not in its infre- 
 quent aberrations from it ; reversing thus the rule at 
 other times, of allowing its aberrations to put from 
 view its leading purpose. There is something beau- 
 tiful in this, seen as an instinct of our being ; the 
 verdict that throbs forth from the deeps of the emo- 
 tional nature. We can pardon and honor the hearts 
 partial estimate ; but not the attempt, deliberate and 
 unimpassioned, to paint the life other than it was, 
 confounding eternal distinctions. 
 
 Certainly, few have lived among us, very few of 
 
eminent position, whose public eulogium was less 
 likely to be discrepant from sober fact than is his 
 whom we mourn. Few have lived among us — have 
 lived anywhere — in the occupancy, through a long 
 life, of such various and distinguished posts, setting 
 him, all of them, in the public gaze ; clothing him 
 with large authority and weighty trusts ; mingling 
 him with conflicting interests and passions and preju- 
 dices ; demanding of him an impartial judgment, an 
 even-handed justice, a iu'm resoluteness, — demand- 
 ing every high moral virtue, — few, I say, have so 
 lived and so stood with record so nearly stainless, with 
 repute so slightly qualified ; few, whose detractors 
 have been so disposed, at the last, to regret their 
 detraction ; whose honest censurers so willing to re- 
 view the grounds of their censure, and soften it by 
 all allowances consistent with historic truth ; whose 
 enemies, if there were such, so ready to drop upon 
 their bier the ready heart-blossom of a conciliated 
 friendlmess. 
 
 In considering more specifically that in the life we 
 are contemplating which claims an especial honor, I 
 would name, first, a fidelity to native gifts and en- 
 dowments. These in him were rare ; if not among 
 the highest, if not answering to what is meant by 
 that vague term " genius," yet of marked and shining 
 eminence. But the mere possession of great natural 
 abilities has no valid claim for honor. Too often, 
 
indeed, it receives it. The world idolizes talent. It 
 burns incense to genius. Nor is it a tendency wholly 
 condemnable. A certain admiration in the contem- 
 plation of high mental faculty and achievement is 
 no less natural and legitimate than that which is in- 
 spired by the wonderful and grand in nature. Still 
 we may not forget, that not the mere possession of 
 great original powers, but only a due cultivation and 
 improvement of them, has title to an honoring regard. 
 He of whom I speak presents in himself this title in 
 a most eminent degree ; presents, through his whole 
 life's career, if I know it aright, a signal example of 
 studious and pains-taking and conscientious fidelity to 
 faculty and gift, to that splendid dower which his 
 genius was. Nature did much for him ; but he did 
 very much, too, for himself. His powers were capital, 
 with which he commerced, through every realm of 
 learning, to their continual enlargement. He was the 
 most eminent example, perhaps, in all the land, of a 
 skilled intellect, of the results of mental training, of 
 the thorough and accomplished scholar. Well w-ere 
 it for our youth, if they would make him, in the 
 respect named, a model for their imitation ; if, while 
 they regard with admiration his remarkable powers, 
 they would consider the sedulous culture, hardly less 
 remarkable, which preceded and made possible their 
 brilliant achievements. 
 
 But while honor is due for the mere cultivation, in 
 
itself considered, of faculty and gift, much more is it 
 for their exercise in behalf of high and worthy ends. 
 Mr. Everett's career eminently demands of us this 
 greater honor. It has been an almost unbroken term 
 of devoted public service. Some of the dearest inter- 
 ests of the community, some of the highest concern- 
 ments of State, some of the noblest measures of 
 philanthropy and patriotism, stand in incalculable 
 indebtedness, not more to his persuasive oratory, than 
 to his wealth and profoundness of acquisition, his 
 habitual and conscientious thoroughness of investiga- 
 tion, his patient and self-devoting industry. What 
 various offices has he filled ! We might almost ask 
 what important office has he not filled ! And with 
 what distinguished ability ! What enthusiasms of 
 sentiment have been aroused by his appeals ! What 
 new and charmful interest imparted, by his presenta- 
 tion and advocacy of them, to themes historical, bio- 
 graphical, literary, political ; belonging to the domain 
 of letters and of afi'airs ; addressed to men of thought 
 and of action, to the scholar and the laborer ! No 
 idler was he in this world-field ; no trifier with his 
 great and shining powers. Amidst the thronging 
 instances of perverted talents, of desecrated genius, 
 he stands in glorious contrast, stands as grand incite- 
 ment. In order to render due honor to this fact 
 of his career, there is need that we appreciate the 
 
 peculiar temptations which beset the possessors of 
 
 2 
 
10 
 
 brilliant and commanding gifts ; which beset him, 
 there is reason to believe, in some of their forms, with 
 peculiar force. His love of approval and applause 
 was a marked tendency of his nature ; a love fostered 
 and fed from early boyhood by largest measures of 
 what it coveted. Few, probably, have lived more 
 continually in an atmosphere of adulation. It could 
 have been by no common strength that he rose above 
 its snares and debilitations, and kept so greatly his 
 manhood. And if not wholly, in certain instances, 
 as some may think, let this which has been named, 
 together with a natural conservatism, a constitutional 
 timidity, a peculiar sensitiveness, and the influence of 
 circumstances whose nature and force we mav not 
 know, — let these temper the judgment they may not 
 wholly reverse. His honor is not that of a reformer. 
 His place is not in that martyr-line, shining through 
 the mists of ages, and setting athrob the heart of gen- 
 erations. He was not one to lead a "forlorn hope ; " 
 to do lonely battle against popular wrongs and abuses; 
 to confront the aroused passions and prejudices of a 
 community. His nature had not the elements for 
 this as others have. He was shrinkingly averse from 
 contention and opposition. He was a man for hal- 
 cyon days. The very style of his oratory was adapted 
 to such. Less the language of bold invective than of 
 winning persuasion his lips loved, his heart prompted. 
 He was the barque, of wondrous perfectness and 
 
11 
 
 grace, nor less of high utility ; passing, with costliest 
 freight, from point to point of the shores it hugs, 
 making each port and inlet glp.d by the beauty of its 
 presence and the blessing of its gifts ; this, rather than 
 the " man-of-war," ploughing, as if in joy, the stormy 
 seas, and belching thunders on opposing foes. And 
 yet who of us can ever forget, what American heart 
 can ever regard but with admiration and gratitude, the 
 heroic nobleness with which he threw himself into 
 our holy struggle ; the efficient, priceless services he 
 rendered the nation's cause ? It was a grand moral 
 spectacle, before which all else in the past than that 
 of which it was the fitting crown may well be for- 
 got, — that voluntary coming forth from his retirement, 
 which age, it may be supposed, had made desirable to 
 him, and — with a strength and glow of intellect, an 
 eloquence and force of utterance, unsurpassed in his 
 palmiest days ; breaking away from party ties and 
 associations ; heedless of whatever charges of incon- 
 sistency with his political past might be preferred 
 against him ; heedless of every thing but the perils of 
 his struggling country — giving himself, mind and 
 soul, in efforts for her salvation ; nor resting therefrom 
 till he rested in death. Fortunate for his countrv, 
 fortunate for him, that he lived to see these years 
 of war ; lived to gather on them new and richer har- 
 vests of renown ; to have twined for him, amidst their 
 stormy sweep, wreaths of benediction outvying all 
 
 V . 
 
12 
 
 tributes of the past, — wreaths that shall hang peren- 
 nial on his tomb. Fortunate life, — full of action, 
 full of service, full of honor, full of varied and bril- 
 liant and beneficent achievement ; closed before fac- 
 ulty gave sign of wane, while its evening was wearing 
 scarcely less than the splendors of its noon ; and 
 crowned with a self-devoting patriotism, ay, and with 
 a humanity, as beautiful, — giving the last plea of his 
 eloquent lips for those, who, though their attitude 
 had been that of foes, were in suffering and want ; 
 renewing, in that last public act, the exercise, in its 
 worthiest spirit, of his earliest calling ; and — making 
 Faneuil Hall his church, and its rostrum his pulpit, 
 and his text, " If thine enemy hunger, feed him " — 
 preaching then and there, unconsciously but blessedly, 
 his " farewell " to the world ; closing his course be- 
 neath the sway and in the interests of that " charity" 
 which is more than all knowledge, and all faith, and 
 all gifts of intellect, and all deeds of valor. 
 
 I must not fail to name, as among his claims to our 
 honoring regard, the exemplariness and purity of his 
 private life. There was, I believe, no stain upon it, 
 no shadow, no charge, no suspicion. Evil tongues 
 were silent before that. There was a beauty in his 
 daily life, — say they who knew it best, — the beauty 
 of gentleness, humility, kindness, a thoughtfulness of 
 others' feelings, a readiness for all befriending service ; 
 the beauty of an unassuming dignity, of an unaffected 
 
13 
 
 simplicity, of a moderation Avhich knew no excess, 
 of an integrity which knew no wavering. The uncor- 
 rupt statesman, he was the uncorrupt and uncorrupti- 
 ble man. If Washington, if the malign influences 
 that lurk within the nation's capital, could not cor- 
 rupt him, what could? And they could not. Honor 
 to him who could come forth from that ordeal, after 
 twelve years' subjection to it, with no smell of fire 
 upon his garments ! Let his example plead with our 
 public men for those virtues, public and private, whose 
 absence no station, no rank, no talent can atone for ; 
 while their presence is the adorning crown of all 
 talent and rank and station ! 
 
 Nor can I omit to name his habitually manifested 
 respect for religion and its institutions. He never 
 failed in his attendance upon their stated ministra- 
 tions. No pressure of labors, no exigency of affairs, 
 no need of recreation, no love of books, were enough 
 to make Sunday to him other than a day for religious 
 rest and public worship. Nor was the respect merely 
 outward, given as gracious patronage of a useful insti- 
 tution, — given on the miserable ground of "example's 
 sake," as by the educated and distinguished it often 
 is, — as if they did not need religion far more than 
 religion needs them ; did not need it absolutely and 
 peculiarly, — its guidance, its sanctions, its restraints. 
 It was with him, too evidently to be doubted, a respect 
 innate and heart-born, deepened by a sense of per- 
 
u 
 
 sonal insufficiency and need. No one could see him 
 in the House of God, and not be struck with his 
 devout demeanor; his respectful attention, however 
 humble the utterance, to the spoken word. 
 
 Thus " the Lord hath taken away from {our) Jeru- 
 salem and Judah the stay and the staff, the honorable 
 man and the counsellor, and the eloquent orator." 
 The State, the nation, mourn him. There is a sense 
 of loss in his decease as of a presence that could not 
 be spared ; as of a pillar of public confidence, a leader 
 of public sentiment, withdrawn when most needed. 
 So many were accustomed to look to him for guidance, 
 to lean upon his judgment, to wait his lead. His word 
 was influence ; his name, a spell ; his presence, a host. 
 His loss is felt in anticipation of that work to which 
 the nation will soon be summoned, of political recon- 
 struction and re-adjustment ; a work perilously glori- 
 ous, demanding the wisest experience and the soundest 
 statesmanship, and in which that conservatism, of 
 which he was a recognized representative, will be a 
 needed element, — as indeed it always is, to keep in 
 safe and healthful check the radical tendencies of our 
 national life. And yet why mourn him thus despond- 
 ingly % For God takes care of his generations ; and 
 who knows what souls of noble mould, and more fully 
 attuned to the key-note of the coming day, he may 
 have in training for it ? 
 
 There are, also, natural regrets that, for his own 
 
15 
 
 sake, he should not have hved to see what he 
 so longed and labored for, — a restored and peace- 
 cemented Union. But he saw the rosy streaks that 
 foretell the dawn. The latest watches of the night 
 had come. The surging storm had lulled. And who 
 will say that death veils to the immortals the scenes 
 of their earthly toils ; the progress of those interests, 
 dear to Heaven, for which here they lived and 
 pleaded] Who will say that the book of human 
 fortunes is thenceforth sealed to those desiring eyes? 
 I believe it not. 
 
 And, looking from that yonder world to this, how 
 must all else seem unimportant, to its newly-risen 
 dwellers, in their life's record, compared with what 
 they did, or sought to do, in fidelity to sacred duty 
 and Heaven-committed trusts ! Oh, what a poor and 
 empty thing is life, viewed only in its earthly aspects 
 and results, — poor and empty even with those Avho 
 have won its brightest smile and worn its loftiest 
 honors ! What is if? A birth, a welcome, a shout, — 
 popularity, station, fame ; a funeral, a eulogy, a 
 statue, a name ! What is there, after all, worth 
 living for but the approval of conscience, the smile 
 of God, the interior and eternal wealth of a loving 
 heart and a holy will? Friends, will we not live for 
 these more steadfastly and devotedly, in our several 
 spheres, — the humblest and narrowest of them great, 
 in its opportunities and possibilities? Will we not, 
 
16 
 
 each, so heed the Great Master's call, " Occupy till I 
 come," that we shall hear, at last, — sweeter than 
 the million-voiced echo of human praise, — those 
 words of gracious approval and unfathomed import, 
 " Well done, good and faithful servant ; enter thou 
 into the joy of thy Lord " "? 
 
 boston; printed by john wilson and SOX. 
 
i 
 
 % 
 
 i 
 
 lltcmoriiil oi CEbtoarb (!5bcrctt: 
 
 A 
 
 DISCOURSK 
 
 PREACHED IN 
 
 
 THE 
 
 FIKST CHURCH, JJORCHESTER, 
 
 
 
 Sunday, Jan. 22, 1865. 
 
 
 
 By NATHANIEL HALL. 
 
 
 , 
 
 BOSTON:, 
 
 
 
 WALKER, WISE, AND COMPANY, 
 
 
 
 245, Washington Strket. 
 
 
 
 E B E N K Z E R. C Ij J^ 1? JP, 
 
 
 
 308, Washington Street. 
 
 
 
 1865. 
 
 

 
 
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