FEB 18 1886 FEB 18 1886 LETTERS FROM WALDEGRAVE COTTAGE. BY REV. GEORGE W.^NICHOLS, A. M. AUTHOB OF "CHILDHOOD'S MEMOBIES" AND "A PASTOB'S WEATH." NEW YORK : JAMES POTT AND COMPANY, 14 AND 16 AsTOB Place. 1886. FEB / ^1886 ) Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1886, by GEORGE WARNER MCHOLS, In the Oflace of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. From Press of The Standard Printing and Publishing Co., 161-165 FrankUn Street, New York. TO snsA:N" wae:ner niohols, OP Greenfield Hill, Conn. )Iy Dear Sister: I dedicate to you the following Letters. With many of the scenes, sketches and characters therein portrayed you are more or less familiar. I know you will appreciate them. I need not say that it is a great pleasure to me to dedicate them to one whose sisterly affection and kind sympathy, and whose intellectual gifts and graces constitute a rich source of enjoyment to the writer. Let me conclude with the most sincere and ardent wish that you may pass many years of serene and quiet enjoyment in our old family home at Greenfield, and may life's last evening be crowned with that golden sun-setting which betokens the brilliance of an unending day. Yours, In grateful love and affection, GEORGE W. NICHOLS. Jan't, 1886. PREFACE. Most of the following letters have already appeared in print, and are republished in deference to the wishes of many who have read them. A few others are printed now for the first time. The book is sent forth with the hope that it may not only give interest to some leisure hour, but may also be a means of usefulness in the hand of that Divine and Gracious Being from Whom all good gifts come and to Whom are due all our labor and all our love. G. W. N. CONTENTS. LETTER No. I. Origin of the Title of this Book, or why these Letters are called ** Letters from Waldegrave Cottage'* — Some Description of Waldegrave Cottage — Its Associations and Attractive Sur- roundings ,. 11 LETTER No. II. The Old Homestead of my Grandfather — Interesting Historical Incidents connected with it — A Description of the Home of my Father at Greenfield — Some Account of his Life 16 LETTER No. IIL Pleasant Recollections of my Father's Parsonage at Bedford, N. Y. — Description of Scenes and Events, connected with the Author's Ministry in the Parish of St. Stephen's, East Haddam, Conn 23 LETTER No. IV. Sketches of Scenes and Incidents, connected with Ministerial and Parish Life during Four Years' Residence of the Author in three Parishes of Litchfield County, Conn o 32 8 Contents. LETTER No. V. The Attractions and Beauties of New Haven— College Life — Some Notices of the Eminent Professors of Yale ; also some Account of the Life and Labors of the Eev. Dr. Croswell, Bector of Trinity Church — How he Assisted the Writer in Rebuilding a Handsome Eural Church, in the Vicinity — The Pleasures of a Brooklyn Residence 39 LETTER No. YI. Life's Retrospect — The Great Advance in Art and Science during the Author's Lifetime ; also, the Wonderful Changes in the Religious World during the same Period— Importance of the Bible 47 LETTER No. YIL Sketches of the Life and Character of Chief- Justice John Jay, of Bishop T. C. Brownell, D.D., L.L.D., of Conn., of the Hon. John A. Lott, one of the Judges of the Supreme Court, and of the Court of Appeals, N. Y. State ^o LETTER No. VIII. The Powerful Influence of a Christian Mother — Biographical Sketch of the Author's Mother 63 LETTER No. IX. The Bible — Its Evidences, its Inspiration, its Infallibility 73 LETTER No. X. A Summer Vacation in July, 1874, at Montpelier, Vt.—Scenery, Characters and Incident?, — A Summer Vacation in July and August, 1676, in Great Barrington, among the Hills of Berk- shire, Mass 80 Contents. 9 LETTER No. XI. Some further Observations on the Bible — The Church: its Broad and Catholic Nature — Some Reasons in Favor of the Epis- copal Church 8& LETTER No. XII. Visit to New York — Remarkable Changes — Some interesting Reminiscences of the Churches, etc 95 LETTER No. XIII Home and Family — A Divine Institution, framed in Eden — The Characteristics of a True Home: 1st, Christian; 2d, Cheerful; 8d, Healthy 104 LETTER No. XIV. Recollections of Two Distinguished Clergymen — Dr. Francis L. Hawks: a Brief Sketch of his Life and Labors — Bishop John Henry Hobart: his Birth and Early History; his Extraordi- nary Career of Usefulness ; his Sudden and Lamented Death 11^ LETTER No. XV. Summer Life at Waldegrave Cottage — Class Meeting at Yale 117 LETTER No. XVL **In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread." "Man shall not live by bread only, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.'* ** To do good and to distribute, forget not." The Great Object of Life 123 10 Contents. LETTER No. XVII, The Vital Question, **Wliat think ye of Christ." What thmk ye of Him as Saviour ? The Question a practical and personal one 130 LETTER No. XVIII. The Future hidden. * * It doth not yet appear what T7e shall be.'* This provision necessary, wise, and beneficent 137 LETTER No. XIX. Hope. Earthly and Christian hope contrasted 143 LETTER No. "XX. jBelshazzar's Feast — A Warning to every Nation against Irreligion and Infidelity — An Exhortation to God's Ministers that they iaithfully discharge the Duties of their high Office 151 LETTER No. XXI. The Divine hedges: 1st, Conscience ; 2d, Pleasure in Doing Good ; 3d, The Restraints and Privileges of Religion ; 4th, The Discipline of Adversities ; 5th, The Influences of the Holy Spirit 157 LETTER No. XXH. The Transfiguration. The Pre-eminence of the God-man, Jesus ^f Nazareth 165 LETTER No. XXIII. Easter. The Sacred and Historical Associations of the Holy Sepulchre. As in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive , 172 v\/^. I MAGDALEN WALDEGKAVE. J L Let me explain at the outset my reasons for naming the spot from which I am now writing, '^ Waldegrave Cottage." It is said, and with con- siderable show of truth, that the writer is a descend- ant of the Earl of Waldegrave, who died in England many years since/ leaving large possessions. That some of his descendants came to this country, and lived and died here is well known. At least, three of their tomb-stones may still be seen in Trinity Church-yard, in the City of New York. They stand to the north of the Church, about fifty feet west of the iron railing on Broadway. One of them is quite modern and in a good state of preservation. It is to the memory of George Walgrave who died in 1785, and his wife, Magdalen, who died in 1821 — the for- mer, aged sixty-two years, and the latter, ninety- nine years. Their daughter, Magdalen, was married to my great-grandfather, George Warner, on the second day of February, 1771. She died Janu- ary 2d, 1814, and her remains, with those of her husband and some of their descendants, are interred 11 12 Waldegrave Cottage, in the family vault immediately in front of the Emmet Monument, in St. Paul's Church-yard. Over this vault stands a chaste granite monimient to the memory of his daughter, Sarah Firman Williams, and in the interior of the Church, near the west entrance, may be seen marble tablets to the memory of her husband, who died in 1825, and her son, Effingham Warner, who died in 1796. My great- grandmother was always spoken of as a beautiful woman and as possessing graces and accomphsh- ments of a rare and high order — and this is my rea- son for calling this place ''Waldegrave Cottage.'' I came here about one year since, having pre-^ viously resided for some twelve years or more in the far-famed City of Brooklyn ; not that I wa& dissatisfied with it, for Brooklyn is a most charming and attractive city, with all its noble churches, distinguished preachers and hospitable homes, and pleasant friends. But I felt that a change from city to country would prove beneficial to our health; nor have we been disappointed. IsTor- walk, which is now a city of considerable size, having fourteen thousand inhabitants, is pleasantly located near Long Island Sound, and lies amid valleys and sloping hills, from which many elegant residences overlook the waters of the Sound. Our Waldegrave Cottage. 13 home, which is a beautiful and tasteful structure, lies on one of the principal avenues of the town. We have many of the comforts to be found in a city — ^gas of superior quality, pure soft water from the lakes near New Canaan; besides, a fine lawn is in front of the house, and a garden in the rear. A favorite horse takes us to ride every day. Indeed, the drives in this country are charming — some of them leading through the back country to Stamford, with its fine residences, New Canaan, with its little Gothic towers rising so gracefully among the trees; and some leading toward the water. At times we drive near the pleasant Summer home of Dr. Alonzo Clark, or the palatial residences of the Hoyts, with their fine grounds, near Stamford. At other times we drive through Westport, a pleasant village, and pass the beautiful and perfect little gem of a church built by Winslow, the New York banker; or drive a little further on, to the splendid seat and grounds of Morris Ketchum; or extend the ride still further to Greenfield Hill, formerly the residence of Dwight, the eminent scholar and divine, who was once Presi- dent of Yale College. By following on the road still further which leads to New Canaan, we come to the quiet inland village of Bedford, in the State of New York. In this town the writer spent the days of his 14 Bedford^ New York. childhood. Oh, how many delightful associations and pleasant memories cluster around that quiet parson- age and little quaint Episcopal Church, which stands^ about one mile north of the village, where my boy- hood was spent and where my father preached for twenty-two years ! How well do I remember that old parsonage, with its green lawn in front, over- shadowed by the trees planted there by the hand of the rector, and the venerable church, too, which stood beside it, and the many marble tablets which lay around it ! Time, though it seems to obliterate often the scenes and events of later years, yet seldom can efface from our remembrance the early impres- sions of our childhood or the tender associations of home. In that church of sweet memories, I may here mention, worshiped the various members of the family of that distinguished and honored patriot, John Jay. I remember him well, and recollect perfectly his venerable, mild and placid face as he sat at his own fireside, or in his pew on Sunday in the parish church, joining with devout sincerity in the prayers and hymns or listening to the sermon. There sat also his daughters. Miss Ann Jay and Mrs. Banyer, and Judge William Jay and John Jay, his son now living, late minister from this country to the Court of Austria. The Jay mansion 4 Bedford^ JSTew York. 15 stood about two miles north of the church, beautifully located upon an elevated slope of ground, from which the eye rested upon a broad landscape of diversified scenery. This distinguished and honored, statesman, after having spent the best part of his life in labors for the good of his beloved country,, sought this quiet and peaceful retreat, far removed: from all the turmoil and business of hf e, and there he spent a serene and happy old age in the bosom of his family, I have thus thrown together a few thoughts from this, my new home, chosen after having spent the greater part of life, while health and strength permitted, in the duties of the sacred ministry, and where I may perhaps pass what of earthly life yet remains to me; and should this brief letter be deemed of sufficient interest to occupy a place in that valuable journal, the Sunday Maga- zine, it is at your service. Waldegrave Cottage, Norwalk, Conru n. Since I last wrote you from this place, the autumnal season has commenced. The vegetation, which had begun to droop and wither, by the con- tinued drouth, has been revived, and all nature is clothed with its fresh robe of green. The country was never more attractive for rides and rambles than now. As you ascend the hill-tops, behind the cottage, and then look down on the valley below, the scene is a beautiful one. Everywhere, amid picturesque forests and dales, you see the residences of the inhabitants, and the tall church-spires point- ing heavenward, and one striking residence, erected by the late Le-Grand Lockwood, at a cost of $700,000, resembling, with its spacious grounds covered with trees and verdant shrubs, an English palace. Yes- terday we drove away toward the water, amid soft autumnal breezes, and in view of the waters, blue and sparkling, of Long Island Sound, to a charming residence now in possession of a New York family. The smooth, white pebbly roads, the grand old forest- trees, and the lakes which now and then rose to view 16 Family Beminiscences, 17 — ^the mansion, standing in leafy solitudes and creep- ing ivies, all served to enhance the beauty and var- iety of the scenery ; and we returned home just as the sun was setting behind the hills, and pouring its brilliance, amid golden and amber clouds, over the whole landscape. I have already spoken of some places and scenes of interest about here ; but of them all, I knov^ of none invested with a deeper interest or charm to the writer than the two follow- ing, viz.: one, the ^^old homestead of my grand- father"; the other, ^^ the home of my father"; and with your permission, I will proceed to speak of these places and some historical incidents connected i,nerewith. Both of them lie at a distance of about eight miles from Waldegrave Cottage, and make a very pleasant drive. The former, which was burned accidentally not long since, was an old and dilapi- dated structure, which had stood for something like one hundred years, and was built in the style of that period. It had large, square windows, a huge iron latch to the door ; a massive stone chimney ran up through the centre of the house, and a tall well- sweep stood near by, from which you might draw a most refreshing draught of cool water on a hot summer's day. I remember there was a very large fireplace in the sitting-room, and there how often 18 Family Reminiscences, would his children and grandchildren assemble to listen to the oft-repeated story of those battle scenes in which he took part, and never seemed to tire of telhng, or they of listening to him. Oh. how often in days gone by have I stopped to take a look at the old homestead I There it stood, old and g'oing* to decay. True, its rooms were deserted, and no longer echoed back the tread of former years. The broken panes were visible in the shattered windows* But it was interesting, and around it still clung'^ many golden associations of days that are past ; for it was once the residence of my grandfather — an old hero of the Revolution. Let me here give a brief synopsis of his history: He was born in April, l"oT^ in those stirring days when our forefathers were struggUng under oppression and fighting for free- dom and the right. Feeling the inspiration which then fired the hearts of the youthful sons of many of our countrymen, he set out at the early age of nine- teen to join the ranks of the Continental Army, and proceeded to the City of Xew York, and was there at the memorable time of the Declaration of Inde- pendence. He was present when the soldiers demol- ished the statue of King George, near the Battery, on Broadway. He was at the battle of Flatbush, L. I., and saw the British take possession of the Family Eeminiscences. 19 fortifications on Brooklyn Heights, after they had been quietly abandoned by the Americans during the night of August 30th, 1776. He assisted likewise in erecting the fortifications at Red Hook, which was done during the night, that our army might, if possible, take advantage of the enemy. About this time he suffered much from exposure and hardship, as all our soldiers did ; still he kept firmly to his post of duty, and marched on with the army into the County of Westchester, after the city had been evacuated by the Americans, and participated in and stood in the thickest of the fight at the famous battle of White Plains. After this indecisive engage- ment, as it proved to be, he still followed on with the army as far as Tarrytown and North Castle, and leaving the army he returned to his native place, and arrived home on Christmas Day, 1776. He joined the army a second time, and then started to aid in the capture of General Burgoyne, but had pro- ceeded only as far as Ridgefield when the news came that Burgoyne was a prisoner. This was the last of my grandfather's participation in the Revolutionary confiict. He then took up his abode in that old homestead. He was soon married, and reared a family of three sons and two daughters. I will not attempt to trace their history nor depict the varied 30 Family Reminiscences, scenes of joy or sorrow which were witnessed there. None of that household are now living — and yet they are not dead ; for they still live in the hearts and affections of their descendants. They still live in the deeds and actions of their lives. These give immortality to the man. These survive the corrod- ing touch of Time. I often think how much force and beauty there is in the following lines of Long- fellow: ** Happy he whom neither wealth and fashion, Nor the march of the encroaching city, Drives an exile From the hearth of the ancestral homestead. We may build more splendid habitations, Fill our rooms with paintings and with sculptures, But we cannot Buy with gold the old associations." But I hasten now, Mr. Editor, to give you a brief description of the home of my father, the late Eev. Samuel Nichols, D.D., which lies not far from the site of the old homestead just spoken of. It stands fronting the public green in the village wherein stood the church and school-house where Dwight taught his pupils. A little way down the village street may also be seen the identical house, now in possession of Mr. Frederick Bronson, where Dr. Dwight, the fam- RESIDENCE OF THE LA.TE REV. SAMUEL NICHOLS, D. D., Gbeenfield Hill, Conn, r Family Reminiscences. 21 ous scholar and divine, resided for twelve years. The house of my father is a wide, low-roofed struct- ure, with central hall and piazza, front and rear. Its rooms are large and commodious, and well adorned with fine pictures, the productions of one of his daughters, a distinguished artist. In this quiet and sequestered nook, looking out upon the green, covered with the grand old elms, my father spent the last days of life's quiet evening, and here he died some two years ago, at the advanced age of ninety-two years. He was born November 14th, 1787 ; fitted for college at Easton Academy, joined the Sophomore Class at Yale in 1809, and graduated in 1811. Shortly after his graduation he became an instructor in the academy at Fairfield, l^]". Y., where he married my mother, a lady of high Christian character, belonging to one of the old Knickerbocker families of N"ew York. Her father died when she was but seven years of age, and she was left in the care of her grandfather, George Warner, a citizen of New York, a man much esteemed in his lifetime, and distinguished for his good deeds. He belonged to the Episcopal Church, and was a prominent and active leader in old Christ Church in 1794, when that church stood near the Post-Office, in Anthony street, and afterward became connected with St. Stephen's 22 Family Eeminiscences, Church, in Broome street : and what was very sin- gular, he was very much hke a Methodist, for he held his revival meetings for exhortation and prayer, at which many converts were made, who joined the church under the venerable Dr. Moore. He was a member of the Legislature, and while at Albany held his religious meetings. What a surprise now would it be to see such a man at Albany 1 In 1815 my father became rector of St. Matthew's Church, Bedford, X. Y.. where he remained for twenty -two years. As rector of that parish, he was faithful, earnest, beloved by his people. It was from this parish that he removed to his native place, to spend the declining years of life. There, soothed and encouraged by the love and attentions of his chil- dren and friends, he departed hence to meet his reward. '' Thus star by star declines Till aU liaye passed away, And morning high and higher shines To pnre and p-rfect day ; Kor sink those stars in empty night , But hide themselves in heaven's own light." III. How rapid is the flight of time! Who would have thought a few weeks ago, as you rode along the w^ooded roads, and beheld the yellow leaves falling upon the ground, and the fields looking as green as ever, that Winter would so soon have come upon us ? — stern Winter, with its fierce winds and frosty nights. And yet it is even so. I sit in my cosy parlor and look out of the window, and the flowers have disappeared from the garden. The pines and hemlocks stand covered with snow. The shrill wind howls and moans through the chimney; and, as night approaches and reveals the starlit heavens, the moon casts her silvery beams over the snow-bound fields. How rapid is the flight of time ! And yet we cannot stay that flight; we cannot hold these precious days, and weeks, and hours, or pre- vent them slipping from our grasp. But (and it is a cheering thought), we can improve them; we can turn our thoughts to indoor life — to the pleasures of home and social intercourse and literary pursuits. 23 24 Parish Memories, It may not be amiss, Mr. Editor, that in the follow- ing letter I should ask the attention of your readers to a few recoUec'jions of scenes and places, such as have fallen within the writer's sphere of observation in years that are past. And — First — A few recollections of my father's parson- age. It is thirty years, or more, since the writer visited the spot, and yet I remember it distinctly as though it were yesterday. It was a neat, white, wooden building, surrounded with a forest of maples and locusts. The little antique church, built of brick, with tower and cupola, stood close by just outside the parsonage gate. I remember all its rooms — the parlor, where we sat — a family group, in pleasant converse; the study, with its shelves of books, and table where my father sat and wrote his sermons; the chambers, where we slept. It was a favorite walk with us down the lane, which ran through the parsonage ground to a piece of woods, and from thence, crossing the river, we frequently in Sununer ascended a tall mountain, from whose summit there might be seen a very picturesque view of forest and woodland. Oh ! how often have I climbed that mountain and looked down with delight on the many objects below, then so dear to the heart of childhood — the church and the parsonage, the Parish Memories. 35 schoolhouse and other dwellings which occupied the neighborhood. How many sweet memories, how many fond recol- lections, cluster round that quiet old parsonage ! It was there that the young mind received its first impressions of truth and moral beauty; there that the young affections were trained, and linked by the tender associations of home — brother, sister, father and mother. That father, who presided over the household, counseled its inmates, and each morn and night kneeled and prayed for them, after the even- ing hymn was sung — forget him ? forget his counsel and his prayers ? Never ! That mother, who with gentle eye, and sweet smile, and loving face, watched over her children and gave them her gentle counsels and kindly admonitions. Forget her ? as well might you undertake to forget your own being. No ! it is impossible; you cannot forget them. They are both gone to the better land ! But oh ! how their teaching and examples live ! If you could lift the curtain that hides the future you would see that the first instructions and influences of home generally decide what is to be the great governing principle of life, and that the destiny of youth is mostly shaped by the hand of the mother. 26 Parish Memories. Second — Let me invite your attention to a few brief Teminiscences of scenes and places connected with parish life at East Haddam, on the Connecticut Hiver. One who has never visited this portion of the country can scarcely conceive the rare beauty of the scenery along the banks of the Connecticut. The picture is exceedingly attractive as you behold the majestic river winding along its course amid the hills and meadows. The white sails are ever moving upon its bosom, the steamboats passing and Tepassing. And then, looking out upon the opposite bank, you behold the country seats, farms and cot- tages amid the adjoining groves and woods. The town referred to, which was the scene of the writer's ministerial labors, is divided into two smaller vil- lages or hamlets, each having a landing for steam- boats and other vessels. There is a road, a little way back from the rocky banks of the river, which leads from one of these villages to the other; and, as you pass along this road, the country on the east rapidly ascends, sometimes almost precipitously. It is upon one of these heights, about midway between the two landings, that the Episcopal Church stands, upon a most commanding elevation. So lofty is the spot, that the church may be seen for a distance of twelve Parish Memories. 27 miles by any one viewing it from the deck of a steam- boat upon the river. It has an unpretending exter- ior, after the fashion of that early period, having l)een erected about the year 1797. The interior is plain. A simple arch overhead is supported by long, heavy fluted columns. It contains an organ of con- siderable size, and much power, and has one rare curiosity, viz., a bell with an inscription upon it, dating back 1,035 years. It was one of those old Spanish convent bells, a number of which, some years ago, found their way into this country, and v^ere distributed through the land. Could that old bell tell its history, how many interesting scenes vrould it disclose ! Upon coming to the place, my first business was to -occupy the room and study which had been fitted up by the kindness and generosity of my parishioners. It overlooked the waters of the river. The scene, as I sat there, busy with my books and papers, was very pleasing. A small ferryboat, large enough to contain two or three horses and carriages, was often cross- ing the river. I learned from one who had acted as ferryman for several years a most thrilling adven- ture which I here proceed to narrate for the benefit of my readers. In the Spring the river is subject to 28 Parish Memories. great freshets. The snow among the mountains^, melted by the warm sun, pours down in innumer- able currents into the river, causing it to be much swollen, and not unfrequently buildings, houses and barns, and sometimes families, are swept away. It was in one of these seasons of freshets in the river that Mr. , the gentleman just spoken of, undertook to ferry a team with a large load of hay across the river. The wind was blowing fresh as the com- pany, consisting of the ferryman and his boy, who assisted him, and the teamster with his load of hay, started from the shore. They had preceded safely as far as the middle of the river, when the wind seemed to swell into a gale. The clouds began to collect in wild and fearful commotion. Amid the howling of the winds, and the roar of the waters, the boat became perfectly unmanageable. Such was the fierce tumult of the wind and waves as to carry under the boat in a moment. By some strange chance of fortune, the team and driver were saved. The oxen became disengaged from the cart, and swam to the other side and were also saved. The ferry- man, after being thrown with his boy into the angry and tumultuous waters, swam down amid the cur- rent, the boy clinging to his back with a death- I Parish Memories. 29 grasp. He tried to shake him off, fearing that he would drown him, but found he could not. In the meantime, the interested crowd of spectators on the shore were anxiously waiting and gazing with dim eyes through the darkness to see the fate of the unfor- tunate crew. They immediately got out a large boat, followed hastily along the shore and rushed to the aid of the old ferryman and his boy. Both were saved, and the joyful news was soon borne to every house in the village. When Mr. narrated to me this wonderful adventure, he added : '' I never expected to weather the fearful perils of that awful gale." But to pro- ceed with my narrative. Upon entering on my duties in my parish, I found that the church of late had very much declined in numbers and spiritual prosperity. Some unhappy questions of a secular nature had been suffered to influence the minds of the parishioners and alienate them from each other. After laboring, however, for some months among the people, I had the satisfac- tion of beholding the parish manifesting a deeper interest in religious things than they had hitherto. The church was attended by larger and more atten- tive congregations, and a more cordial spirit of unity 30 Parish Memories. and good feeling began to exist among its members. And I was also delighted to recognize not only those profescedlv belonging to my own church, but many others belonging to various rehgious denominations, who live in the hamlets below, some thi^ee miles distant from their own church. Encouraged by the success of my labors, I con- tinued on in that parish, surrounded by a band of faithfiil workers, and upheld by the hands of devoted friends and parishioners, until declining health com- pelled me to leave for rest and recreation: nor shall I soon forget the scene, as I finally left a people who had shown me unremitting kindness, among whom I had labored with the Divine blessing. It is evening. The dusky shades of twihght deepen. The steamer has just come up to the wharf. I have shaken hands for the last time with many of my warm-hearted friends and parishioners. I hasten on board and the boat quickly recedes from the wharf, and as I stand upon the deck, I see, now and then, an anxious eye watching me and waving a parting signal. I see the window of my study, where I have spent so many pleasant hours, fading from my sight, and the church spire on the hill- top vanish, where we have so often communed Parish Memories, 3;l with God in prayer. Farewell ! ye temple walls,, which have so often re-echoed the praises of our God ! Farewell, ye peaceful homes, at whose fire- sides I have so often sat and talked on things spir- itual and divine ! Farewell, ye little children of the Sunday-school, whose sweet countenances have so often looked smilingly on me as I have tried to lead you in the Lord's pastures ! May we all meet a united parish in heaven 1 IV. AViLL you allow me, briefly, to continue in this and the following letter the sketches of scenes and incidents in ministerial and parish life begun in my last ? During 18J:9-5-2, it was the writer's privilege to minister in the town of , in the County of Litchfield, Conn. The j)arish had been once the scene of Bishop Griswold's saintly labors. It was here, amid these romantic hills, amid a simple- hearted, intelligent and spiritually-minded people that this great and good man began his early minis- try — a ministry that was afterward to ripen into a most glorious and fruitful harvest. I found there a high moral elevation, an exalted spiritual standard of conduct and life such as we might naturally ex- pect such a man would impart. And although years had passed away, it was easy to see still the traces of the good bishop's holy labors in this parish; and, as I often rambled in the fields or climbed the hills in search of the farmhouses of my parishioners — 32 I Parish Memories. 33 T^hich were scattered far and wide over the country — I could not but call to mind how these same hills had been trodden by the footsteps of him who once here broke the bread of life to his privileged flock. I found many aged persons in whose recollections the good bishop's life and labors were treasured up as precious mementoes of their early years. One aged lady, with whom the bishop lived, and where he studied and wrote, ever spoke of that good man with the utmost respect and friendship. I shall not forgot the deep interest with which another, an aged man, who had also had the honor of providing a home in his humble dwelling for the good bishop, spoke to me, during his last illness, of the life and ministry of Bishop Griswold. I found him confined to his sick bed, and in a state of want. But few, if any, of his distant kindred seemed to take any inter- est in the aged sufferer. I relieved his necessities from the charitable fund of the parish. But, oh, how he seemed to cherish the remembrance of his early pastor ! At the mention of that name there would kindle up in the old man's countenance a smile which made him almost forget his bodily suffering and the signs of destitution by which he was sur- rounded. Facts like these serve to show us what a mighty hidden power for good there is in the teach- 31 Parish Memories. ing and example of a faithful minister. Bishop Gris- wold was the father-in-law of the elder Dr. Stephen H. Tyng, and I have no doubt that his eminent example and singular devotion had an influence in shaping the future course and career of his son-in- law, and making him, as he has been, a man of great power. A somewhat singular episode occurred while the writer was in charge of the parish before named. I received, one day, a letter from a clerical brother — then officiating in the parish of Salisbury, in the northwestern extremity of the State — in which he wrote as follows : ^^Rev. and Dear Brother: I am about resigning my parish, in order to accept a call to the church at Niagara Falls. Our vestry here and myself are unanimous, and we have selected you as the future pastor of this church. We will not take No for an answer. You must come. Faithfully, yours. I immediately sat down and wrote as follows : ^'Rev. and Dear Brother: Your letter has been received. My parish here is united, and everything Parish Memories. 35' is prospering. I do not think it advisable, even though my salary were increased, to leave the par- ish, and must therefore beg to decline your urgent invitation. Your brother in Christ, ." In about two weeks after this I received another and still more urgent letter, begging me to reconsider my former determination, and to come and spend a Sunday, which I finally consented to do. After vis- iting the parish, and thinking over the whole subject, I resolved to accept the call, and, upon my return, I resigned my parish; when, what do jou think occurred ? A letter came, informing me that my reverend brother of Salisbury had concluded not to resign his parish. Some rumor had been started affecting his moral character, when all his parishion- ers immediately rallied to his support, determined that he should not resign, and that they would stick by him and defend him to the last. This, to say the least, was placing me in a very awkward and unpleasant position. I was afloat without a parish. What was I to do ? I suddenly recalled to mind a little circumstance which had occurred some six weeks previously, when a gentleman belonging to one of two associated parishes in the western portion of the town called upon me and inquired how I 36' Parish Memories. would like to change mv present cure for that of the two parishes he represented ? "When the question was first put to me I replied in the negative. Were those parishes still open ? I resolved at once to solve that question and drove to the house of the gentle- man to whom I have just referred, a distance of about eight miles. He received me cordially, and an arrangement was made at once to accept the charge of these two parishes. It seemed to me a direct ordering of Providence; for it proved a far -more eligible and desirable field of labor than either the one I had left or the one I proposed to accept. How true is the saying that '-'man proposes, but God disposes.'' My cure now embraced two par- ishes, having two churches, four miles apart, and running over a territory eight miles long and four miles broad. And the blessing of the Lord prospered abundantly my labors in it. One of my parisioners, or pewholders, was the mother of the distinguished and most brilliant Presbyterian preacher. Dr. Char- les Wadsworth, who so long and so successfully filled the pulpit of the Arch Street Presbyterian Church, in Philadelphia. I never had the pleasure of a per- sonal acquaintance with him, but have been charmed and delighted with his pubhshed sermons. In the other parish, I nimibered among my most valued Parish Memories. 37 parishioners a lady of high accomplishments and fine education — a daughter of the Rev. Dr. Truman Marsh, who preached in St. Michael's Church, Litch- field, for many years. He was very hypochondriacal,, and every Sunday became so depressed that he could not muster courage to preach. But his wife would encourage him, give him some simple remedy, and tell him to mount his horse, and he would ride,, accompanied with a hired man, to the church, and preach two most admirable sermons, and then return home. This he did until he was very advanced in life. It was in Litchfield that the Rev. Mr. Bayley who was then a clergyman of the Episcopal Church, but who afterwards joined the Church of Rome, and became an archbishop — it was here that he became enamored of a young lady of high accomplishments — a Miss , who, though she did not marry him (the laws of the Roman Church forbidding it), yet imbibed his teaching, and embraced the faith of that Church, and went into a convent in the city of New York, where she resided for some time; but I think she subsequently renounced her faith in Romanism, and returned to her Protestant belief, friends and home again, to their great joy and satisfaction. She was a very intelligent and lovely woman, and her society was much sought after. In her family circle,, 38 Parish Memories. "svhich she graced, she was the idol of fond parents and a large circle of admiring friends. Thus passed away about four years of ministerial life, amid the hills of Litchfield, amid hospitable homes and kind parishioners; and in looking back to those four years, I have much to recall with pleasure, .and nothing to regret. V. There are few cities of our country around which gathers a greater interest than New Haven. The magnificent churches and other buildings which surround and occupy the pubhc Green, overshadowed by the tall, graceful elms; the highly educated, refined and intellectual character of its people; the College, with its numerous buildings; the Art Gallery; the Marquand Chapel; Library, etc., all these have given a justly-deserved fame to New Haven. During the writer's college days, the city had far less claim to renown. It was smaller than it is now, the churches fewer and less ornamental, the buildings belonging to the college plainer and much less in number. At that time there were no means of access to the place except by stage-coach and steamboat, and college students found it a long and forbidding journey from their homes to the college. Many college scenes, incidents and characters, still remain indelibly impressed on my memory. Though young and inexperienced, I had left my home well- trained under the teaching and example of Christian 39 40 Yale College. parents, and, therefore, was not so likely as many others to be drawn into any wild and dangerous pranks, such as often occur among college students. I remember hearing of one of these reckless and silly adventures which occurred many years since at Yale. A party of students, bent on mischief and fun, went out and robbed a neighboring farmer of one of his turkeys. They brought the turkey home, dressed it, and resolved to have a feast in one of their rooms. Here they assembled one evening, cooked the turkey, made the fixings and gravy, and all sat down to enjoy their evening's repast. They had nearly finished when a loud rap was heard on the door from a tutor or professor. What should they do ? It would not do to be caught in that situa- tion. It was instantly resolved to remove all traces of the feast. The turkey and dishes were secreted, and, not having any other place, they poured the gravy into one of their boots. One of their number reads from the Scripture the chapter containing the passage: ^^A wicked and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign; but no sign shall be given them, but the sign of the Prophet Jonas," etc. Another, with serious and solemn tone, utters a prayer. Thus, they escaped detection, and the professor passed on. Among those who left a very strong and enduring THE REV. HAHRY CROSWELL, D. D., Rector of Teinity Chtjech, New Haven, Conn. Bev. Dr. Croswell. 41 impression at that time on the writer's mind was President Day, a most excellent and venerable man, of whom it has been said wittily, that '^ he was a man without either original sin or actual transgres- sion." I remember, also, the striking appearance of Professor Daggett; Professor Goodrich, who taught the students in elocution; Professor Silliman, whose lectures on chemistry and geology were a rich treat to his audience; and last, not least, I remember dis- tinctly the appearance of the venerable Eector of Trinity Church — Dr. Harry Croswell — whose tall figure and manly form, clerical garb, and high- topped boots with knee-buckles, impressed every beholder, as they saw him walk the streets of J^ew Haven. Dr. Croswell was, in many respects, a most wonderful man. He was not a great or very eloquent preacher, but he had a right heart, and an earnest will, and an extraordinary knowledge of human nature, and could ingratiate himself into every man's heart. He commanded the highest regard, not only among his own people, but among Christians of every name. He died in 1858, aged seventy -nine. When he first entered on his duties as Rector of Trinity Church, there was but one Episcopal Church in New Haven. Now there are nine. It was during the early part of my ministry,. 42 Bev. Dr. CroswelL being then without a parish, that I made a call on "the Rev. Dr. CroswelL He received me most cor- dially, and directed my attention to two vacant parishes in the vicinity. One of these was a rural town, far behind the age in scientific and educa- tional advantages, and still clinging with great tena- city to their old superstitions and crude notions of men and things. A wag, one day, was asked by a person whom he met, '' What do you think of this town r " Why," said he, " I will tell you, and I do not know how better to express my meaning than in two lines of poetry: " * A big meeting-house, a tall steeple, A superstitious priest, and a rickety people.* " This was literally true; the one minister, who had been there from time immemorial, had a large stone church, and had come to think that no one else ought to have any jurisdiction over the people, either in politics or religion; for at one time he had •driven out the Methodists, and at another attempted to scatter the Episcopalians, by preaching one Sun- day a sermon in his church in which he threw all the bishops off the throne and took the chair himself. The Episcopalian Church was a very diminu- tive, barn-like structure, and hence, on coming Bev. Dr. CroswelL 43 into the place, I immediately directed my most strenuous efforts to rousing the people and urging them to build a more decent and respectable house for the worship of God. I knew that it would help greatly to further this object to enlist the sympathies and attention of my friend, Dr. Croswell. I laid the whole subject before him. He brought the matter before the ladies of his church, and they helped us greatly in a fair which was held in the town-hall to raise funds for the new church. A subscription, which was very successful, was started in the parish, and the result was that a new and beautiful Gothic church was built, and furnished, and car- peted in the short space of three or four months, and, what was better than all, was paid for. After the edifice was completed, we held our open- ing service, at which Dr. Croswell was present, and took part, much to my satisfaction, as well as that of the congregation. Dr. Morgan, of St. Thomas Church, New York (then the assistant of Dr. Cros- well), also participated in the services. It was an interesting occasion, and one long to be remembered; and I was frequently afterwards accosted by neigh- boring brother-clergymen who would say to me : '' Why, Brother , it seems almost a miracle. I wonder how you could take hold of such a feeble 44 Bev, Dr. Ci^oswelL little church, in such a community — so much behind' the age, and withal so penurious as they were, and induce them to build that beautiful church." I have never regretted since that I called on my good friend, the distinguished rector of Trinity, and took his advice, for it proved a most successful under- taking; and the church has since prospered, a par- sonage having been built and the church well attended. After having spent about fourteen years of my life in ministerial duty, in various fields of labor in the State of Connecticut, Mr. Editor, I moved to your goodly city of Brooklyn, where I have resided, with, the exception of a few brief intervals, until my removal to this place — ^^Waldegrave Cottage."" When I went to Brooklyn, and during the many years of my sojourn there, my health had not been fully adequate to the care of a parish, so that I have been under the necessity of turning my attention to- business in order to live. By the blessing of God, success has attended me, and my years in Brooklyn have ghded on smoothly and happily amid the kindly intercourse of genial friends and intellectual com- panions. On Sunday, while we have frequented and enjoyed the privileges of worship in our sanctuary, we have Brooklyn, N. Y. 45 ^occasionally derived great satisfaction and profit from listening to the discourses of other eminent divines in the City of Churches — particularly those of the Rev. Dr. Scudder, whom I have always looked upon as a preacher having few rivals in this or any country. Frequently, when dull and depressed, I have started with my wife on a Sunday evening for the church, which was near by, and after listening with great pleasure to Dr. Scudder, have returned home, my whole moral and intellectual nature elevated and impressed by the theme of his discourse — so skillfully unfolded and illustrated as to form the subject for a most delightful hour's conversation. I wonder not that he is so successful in gathering large congregations around him. But while we often look back and recall with pleasure the many happy days and hours spent in the society of kindred and friends, the memories of pleasant and profitable Sabbaths, and week-day lectures by men of note and distinction to which we have listened with delight, yet we regret not that these have been exchanged for a new Summer home in the country, where, instead of being pent up in a narrow inclosure and confined to a space of a few feet, we may look out upon the broad landscape of mountain and valley, and listen to the matin songs of birds in springtime. 46 Brooklyn^ N. Y. breathe in the air scented with the perfume of blos- soms and the new-mown hay ; listening no longer to the continual clatter of carts and vehicles, nor to the endless buzz of business in the crowded street, but to the gentle sighing of the wind among the trees of the forest, the murmur of the mountain rivulet, or the bleating of the flocks and herds upon the hillside. But it is time, Mr. Editor, to draw this letter to a close. So I bid you adieu, and reserve what more I have to say to another time. YI. In the following letter I have thought it might not be amiss for me to present to the readers of your Magazine a few reflections which have suggested themselves to my mind at this somewhat protracted period of life. 1. And on looking back over life's pilgrimage, I have been profoundly impressed with the wonderful discoveries which have been made in human science^ as applied to the comforts and conveniences of civil- ized life. Had any one in my childhood told me that I would live to see the day when steam cars would fly across the country, carrying passengers and freight at the rapid rate of forty or fifty miles an hour; or messages would be transmitted from city to city in the space of a' few moments; or persons could converse with each other by telephone in distant places; or news from foreign lands would reach us, transmitted by cables under the ocean, so quickly as to be published in the morning papers and read at 47 48 Life's Betrospecf. our breakfast tables — I say, had any one made such marvellous statements as these, in my youthful days, who would have believed them ? And yet they iare true. I remember, when but a child, leaving home, scarcely ten years old, and riding with my father through the county of Westchester, in the State of New York — a distance of forty-five miles — .all the way in a rumbling stage-coach, and arriving just at the dusk of evening at the house of my grand- father, which stood then not far from Vauxhall Gar- den, surrounded by flower garden and apple orchard, with a plant-house and stables and carriage-house in the rear. It was his country seat, to which he had repaired from the heat, noise and dust of the city below, where he might enjoy the fresh air and the perfume of the sweet blossoms of fragrant tulips and hyacinths. I can remember, too, the public open road through which our four-wheeled coach and horses drove along, slowly, by a sohtary road, with a scattered dwelling now and then, where now stand ivhole blocks of palatial residences, marble palaces, and stores and gorgeous churches. I can also call to mind with what a thrilling sensation of delight we rose early in the morning and set out with our two- seated open farm- wagon (our company consisting of iather, mother and myself) and drove the whole day Life's Retrospect. 49 long till sunset— a journey of fifty miles— on a visit to our distant kindred in the State of Connecticut. Ah! those were happy, joyous days; we never tired of the beautiful scenery along the road, the faces we saw, the green fields and forest trees, the villages with their dwellings, and, above all, the hearty greetings we received and the warm welcome as we drove within the gate, and entered the old, well-remembered door with its iron latch. Oh, those were indeed happy days! we do not expect to see their like again. But we would not think of travel- ing so now. If we were going now to Newport or the White Mountains, we would, very likely, take a palace-car, and reach there in a single day. But, I remember, it was just after leaving college (no such thing then as steam-cars and steamboats), we set out (father and myself) with our faithful horse and open v^agon. It was a long, long journey. It took us weeks to accomplish it. We crossed into the State of Connecticut, and then followed the road leading through those beautiful towns lying on the Sound — to New Haven, with its colleges, its famous trees, its State-house and churches. Thence we drove on, passing through Wallingf ord, Meriden, Berlin, to the thriving city of Hartford, with its fine streets and noble churches; and from thence we passed on 50 Ijife's Retrospect. through Springfield, over Mount Tom, in sight of Holyoke; stopping a day or two at the romantic Httle village of Bellows Falls, also at Windsor, beneath the shadow of Mount Ascutney, until we reached the towering, majestic peaks of Mount Washington and Lafayette; and all this distance we drove on day by day, hour by hour, but did not tire; the endless diver- sity of scenery and new objects, the fresh, invigorat- ing air as we rode along, the rehsh we had for our meals at the neat and comfortable little inns scat- tered along the road, far more than compensated us for our lengthy travel. But who would think of taking such a journey, now, when you may ride in a single day or night all this distance in luxurious pal- ace-cars ? As we look back over the past to those by-gone days, what a mighty contrast it seems to present to this day, when in the onward march of civilization time and distance are almost annihilated; when huge ocean steamers, splendidly furnished can cross the water and reach their desti- nation in the brief space of seven days; or when we may look out upon that wonderful triumph of art and science, the Brooklyn Bridge, which may well com- mand the admiration of the world. 2, But another thought impresses me as I take a retrospect of life, and that is : the great change Life's Retrospect. 51 which has taken place during that time in the aspect of the moral and religious world. Fifty years ago, there were few churches, few educational and reli- gious institutions. The country was covered with a comparatively poor and sparse population. Clergy- men, few as they were, were much more appre- ciated, however, than they are now. Since that time the country has made rapid and wonderful pro- gress. States have been multiplied, towns have sprung up, all over the land the resources of material wealth have increased. Over fifty millions of people now dwell where then were but ten or fifteen mil- lions. Churches have been multiplied, theological seminaries have been established, and everywhere Christian temples and schools are to be found. Then, a few humble churches, such as the people could afford, were to be seen. Now, majestic temples are to be found, adorned with all the elegance and taste of magnificent architecture. When I think of those days of feebleness, those humble beginnings, and then glance at the present and think of the varied means and agencies, now in active operation, to pro- mote the moral and spiritual education of men, to diffuse the Gospel's saving truths among the desti- tute, the ignorant, and the degraded of our race, I cannot but wonder at the marvellous change that 52 Life's Betrospect, has taken place. I cannot but ask what is to be the future of this great country — a country which has already advanced during a hundred years, from three millions to fifty millions of inhabitants, and w^hich is large enough to contain four hundred mil- lions, with the same population to the square mile as Great Britain. • When I look at these blessed results, I cannot but take hope for my country. I have no sympathy with those downcast looks, those ■gloomy forebodings which some cherish, aye, even ;Some Christians, who seem to think that because infidelity, and crime, and wickedness prevail ; be- cause we hear an occasional outburst of blasphemy from some infidel ; or because Romanism lifts its head and seeks to dupe the free and enlightened citi- zens of this republic, but seeks in vain; or, because pohtical bribery and corruption are to be found, that, therefore, the Gospel must fail, the world is to be given over to sin and Satan, and things generally go to pieces. No, no ! away with such a pusillanimous, weak faith as that ! Let us act more worthy of the noble cause we have in hand, and instead of wasting time in vain regrets and desponding thoughts over the sad results of evil, let us rather gird up our loins afresh, and stand firm as defenders of the truth. And this leads me to state one thing more, which Life's Retrospect, 53 the review of the past has most strongly impressed upon me, viz., this : 3. That the older I grow, and the longer I live, the more I am convinced of the vast and unspeakable- importance of the Bible. It is, emphatically, the Book of books. There is nothing which can be sub-- stituted for it. It is infallible. It teaches the truth concerning a future life, and the relations of that life to us, and how we may make that future life a happy one. It is our rule of life, our hope in death ; placing our faith and trust in the Saviour thereiii revealed to us, we may die happy and peaceful. You may try to disparage the Bible if you will, or put away from you the truth that that book, and that book alone, tells you of, namely, your immortality^ and how to secure it, but you will be left in darkness^ afloat on a sea without chart or compass. John Jay, when Ambassador to France, was onco in a company of infidels. They talked on recklessly^ venting their spite on the Bible ; Jay was silent ; it troubled them. He did not pronounce their shib- boleth. They could not go on, while that grave, just man sat there, a sort of solemn judge, riveting at last their gaze. No wonder his bearing forced them to speak, and when they asked, as if to relieve them- 54 Life's Retrospect, selves of their confusion, and provoke his acquies- cence, '' Do you beheve in Jesus Christ ?" his silence had prepared the way for his confusing and con- founding answer : '' 1 do, and I thank God that I do." He was silent at the right time, and when he spoke said the right thing. VII. Allow me in the following letter to lay before yon a few pen-pictnres of life and character which it has been my privilege to know and admire. Looking back over the past, I will endeavor to draw them as they stand in memory's portrait gallery. I. The first shall be that of John Jay — the pure, noble patriot and Christian statesman; the friend and associate and co-laborer of Washington; the stanch defender of truth and right ; the man of stern principle and incorruptible moral integrity, both in public and private life. How his character looms up, like a bright star in the political horizon, reflect- ing glory and lustre on his name and rebuking the selfish political corruption and bribery of this degen- erate age. I remember well — though then but a small lad — the open, serene, placid countenance of John Jay, as he sat at his family fireside, in the old family mansion, at Bedford, in the State of New York. His noble and impressive features, fine forehead, bright eye, his intellectual cast of coun- 55 56 Chief 'Justice John Jay. tenance and polite, engaging manners, could not but impress the beholder at once. You could see there intellectual greatness combined with the mod- esty and humility of the Christian. As a statesman, he was distinguished for his intellectual force and political sagacity. In all the high positions to whick he was called — as guide and counselor with other eminent patriots and statesmen of the Revolution; as author of the State Constitution of 1777, and as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States ; as Ambassador to foreign courts, in trying and difficult periods of the history of the country ; as Governor of the State of New York — in all these positions of trust and power John Jay shone pre-^ eminently as a man of far-reaching political wisdom and incorruptible moral integrity. What a bright and illustrious example does he present to the men in power of this day ? Would to God that more might follow him as their model. In the domestic relations of life, too, as an excellent father and wise counselor of his children, he was a rare model. Dr. A. H. Stephens, an eniment physician of New York,, once said: ^'I was summoned to Bedford to visit, professionally, the overseer of Governor Jay's farm ; after having finished my duties at the farm-house I went, by invitation, to the mansion of the vener^ Chief -Justice John Jay, 57 able statesman. That the seeds of evil implanted in our nature have not borne more and ranker fruit in the speaker, I owe to that night's rest under the roof of that honored family. When tempted sorely to evil, I recall the scene in the family parlor of the venerable patriarch, his children and household, and those within his gates, uniting in thanksgiving, con- fession and prayer. Sir, it was more like heaven upon earth than anything I ever witnessed or con- ceived. It was worth more than all the sermons I ever listened to." John Jay was a devout, exemplary member of the Protestant Episcopal Church, believing it to be most evangelical and scriptural. He gave liberally of his means for its support. Indeed, more than half the cost of the erection of St. Matthew's Church, at Bedford, was borne by him. But, while he loved his own church, and participated in its^ worship every Lord's Day, as long as he was not prevented by age and increasing infirmities, he ever manifested a kindly sympathy and regard for all other Christian bodies, having little or no respect, however, for the idle ceremonies and arrogant and corrupt teachings of the Romish Church and priest- hood. I have still, as memory wanders back to those eventful times, a most distinct and beautiful 58 Chief-Justice John Jay, impression of John Jay surrounded by his children at the old Bedford home — all bound to each other by the tie of deep unselfish love. It was a beautiful sight to behold, as the members of that household vied with each other in bestowing httle acts of kind- ness, and a watchful sympathy over their aged and honored father. There were those two Christian sisters — his daughters, Mrs. Banyer and Miss Ann Jay — whose pure lives and noble deeds of mercy and charity have been bequeathed, a rich heritage, to the Church on earth. There, too, was an honored son of John Jay, the late William Jay, who enjoyed, during his lifetime, the well-deserved reputation of an able advocate and learned judge, who died in the Christian faith, and whose dust reposes now, along with others of his family, beside the old parish church of St. Matthew. These lives, spent in the seclusion and retirement of this Christian home and in active efforts to relieve the poor and afflicted, their spiritual labors and works of charity, which were done, in a quiet way, for the benefit of the widow, and orphan, and destitute missionary — these present a bright and interesting record, and form a fitting close to that eventful life which took place May 17th, 1829. Thus lived and died John Jay, the friend and associate of Washington, having THE KT. REV. THOMAS CHURCH BROWNELL, D.D., LL.D., ( Thibd Bishop of Connecticut. Bishop BrotvnelL 59 borne a noble part in the formation of this great Repubhc, honored and lamented by the whole coun- try, whose respect and confidence he had so richly enjoyed during his lifetime. II. I will briefly touch upon the life and character of Dr. Thomas C. Brownell, Bishop of the Diocese of Connecticut, for forty-six years, and engaged in active service during that period, with the exception of a few years previous to his death, which occurred January 13th, 1865, at the advanced age of eighty- five years. During his episcopate, the Episcopal Church made rapid advances in Connecticut, there being at the time of his entrance upon office but seven self - supporting parishes, and thirty - four clergymen. These, at the time of his death, had increased to ninety parishes, and one hundred and thirty clergymen. Few bishops have fulfilled their sacred trust, and discharged the high duties of their sacred office, with more zeal, devotion and wisdom than good Bishop Brownell. To the varied gifts of human learning and theological attain- ments of the highest order, he united the most ardent piety and spiritual devotion, together with all the kindness, and courtesy, and affectionate regard, and personal interest in his clergy, which ^0 Bishop Brownell. make a bishop so acceptable. It fell to the lot of the writer to be under the supervisor! of Bishop Brownell for a period of ten years, during his active ministry in various fields of labor in Con- necticut. I frequently look back with the utmost satisfaction and pleasure to my intercourse with him. He always manifested a most friendly and affectionate regard for me, took great pains to see that I was usefully occupied in some field of parish work, and rejoiced to know that my labors were successful. He did not wait for his clergy to come to him, but he sought them out, and kept them engaged in useful fields of labor, and soon made every one of his clergy feel that he was their best friend, as well as their bishop. No considerations of personal dignity or ecclesiastical honor could make- him forget the welfare, or be indifferent to the wishes or wants, of those over whom he was set ta watch as their spiritual overseer. The name of Bishop Brownell. and the memory of his life and deeds, will be fragrant in the Church during the ages to come. He was strongly attached to his own Church and faith, and lived and toiled and labored incessantly to promote its best welfare. But none ever heard him speak otherwise than with the kindest Christia,n feeling and courtesy toward Hon, John A, Lott. 61 all other Christian bodies. One has only to read his work called " The Religion of the Heart and Life/' in which he quotes largely from eminent Presby- terian ministers, to see how highly he esteemed them. Such was the character of Bishop Brownell. III. But I proceed to give a brief sketch of one more character whom it was my privilege to meet with and know well, viz., the late Hon. John A. Lett, long one of the judges of the Supreme Court in Brooklyn, and also a judge of the Court of Appeals in the State of New York, one of the highest judicial offices of that great State. It is scarcely necessary to say much of the high standing and character of Judge Lott. He was too well known to require it. Suffice it to say he was a great lawyer and a great judge, and filled all the high positions of office and public trust to which he was called, with distinguished ability and success. He was not only a learned judge, distinguished for his marked ability, industry and accurate knowledge of the law, but he was a good man — good as he was great — active and zealous in the service of the Church to which he belonged, and gave liberally of his means to promote its welfare. In the beautiful rural village of Flatbush, which lies just out of ^ 62 Hon. John A, Lott, Brooklyn, adjoining Prospect Park, there stands on^ the main avenue, which runs through the centre of the town, the plain house which was long the home and residence of Judge Lott and his family. His two sons occupy stately, fine residences near him, and his son-in-law, Rev. Dr. C. L. Wells, lives in the parsonage of the Dutch Church near by. I shall not soon forget the exceeding kindness, the genial temper and most hospitable, pleasant manner of the judge as I have made occasional visits with my wife (she being related to him) at that home just described. It was an exceedingly pleasant drive from our Brooklyn home through the shaded roadways of the park, in sight of flowering shrubs and dog- wood blossoms, into the pretty village of Platbush — past the venerable old Dutch Church, with its tall spire peering through the trees, to the pleasant residence of the judge. Nothing could exceed the kind, cor- dial reception given to us by him and his excellent lady; and as memory wanders back, we love to recall those pleasant hours. Although these dear friends no longer greet us with their presence and kindly words, sleeping silently beneath the shades of Greenwood, yet we love still to think of them, not as lost, but only gone before. VIIL The three sweetest words in the Enghsh tongue ^ it has been justly said, are '' mother/' '' home/' and '^heaven." To the first attaches a peculiar charm. It is associated with all the early years of childhood, with all the numberless little acts of kindness and love, with all the cares, anxieties and unwearied watchings of the domestic household; no earthly tie or bond is stronger than that of mother's love, especially if it be that of a Christian mother's love. It stretches and weaves its silken cords around the heart, from the cradle to the grave, and awakens a responsive echo in the heart amid all the cares and perplexing turmoils of life. * * My mother ! at that holy name Within my bosom there's a gush Of feeling which no time can tame, And which for many worlds of fame I would not, could not, crush. ^' There's no human heart so incrusted by worldliness or so hardened by sin and crime as not to feel the thrilling power of that word ''mother." Were you 63 64 The Author's Mother, to speak to the poor, hardened criminal, bound by Ms chains in his lonely dungeon, of that sainted mother who once taught him to pray and say, " Our Father, which art in heaven," you would find that €ven he had a place, down deep in his heart, conse- crated to a mother's memory. He would doubtless bow in contrition, and tears would flow down his haggard face, as you carried back his thoughts to the days of his childhood, when he once laid his innocent head on his mother's bosom. If we look back over the world's history we shall find that most of the great and good names and characters which have adorned the world and the Church have owed a vast deal to the influence of good mothers. What John Wesley was is owing, and can be traced, to the influ- •ence and power of a Christian mother's teaching and example. John Newton also received his train- ing and Christian instruction at the hands of a good mother; and though he was afterward led astray and often surrounded by evil influences, yet those early maternal counsels prevailed and kept him iik the right path. Listen to the following testim.ony from another : " When I was a child," he writes, ^^ my mother used to bid me kneel beside her, and place her hand upon my head while she prayed. Before I was old enough to know her worth she died, The Author's Mother. Qb and I was left too much to my own guidance. In the midst of temptations, whether at home or abroad, I have felt myself again and again irresistibly drawn back by the pressure of that same soft hand, and a voice in my heart seemed to say, " Oh ! do not this wickedness, my child, nor sin against God." Such is the power and influence of a Christian mother. We all respond to those beautiful lines of a world- wide fame : ** *Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roaio, Be it ever so humble, there*s no place like home; A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there, "Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere." But what is home without a mother ? It is a tree without leaves, a hearthstone without any fire, a night without the placid radiance of the moonbeams. I have introduced the foregoing thoughts by way of prelude to the following picture here given from memory's portrait gallery — that of my mother. She was born on January 4th, 1799, in New York city, and was the daughter of George James Warner, a jeweler by trade, and also a man of taste and educa- tion. His residence was a small, neat cottage, and stood on the Bowery, not far from Bleecker Street, while that of his father, George Warner, stood a lit- 66 The Author's Mother. tie further up, on what is now the corner of Bowery and Fourth Street. These then were country-seats of men doing business down-town, below what is now called Canal Street, which was then the outer limit of the city. Her mother was a daughter of Elias Nexsen, one of the old, most respected merchants of New York city, who was first Collector of the Port, and a prominent leader in the Dutch Church. She was thus brought up under the eyes of Christian parents, and early taught the truths of our holy religion. The family consisted of two sisters and a brother, all united by the tender ties of family affec- tion. The unbroken union, however, was but of short continuance, for at the early age of seven years her father died, and she was left in the care of the widowed mother. Her character was shaped and molded, to a great extent, through her grandfather, George Warner, who owned the famous ^^old sail loft," in William Street, New York, in which the British pressed him to make sails for the English ships during the war of the Revolution; but he would not. He was also an eminently devoted and religious character. Of the other members of the family, her sister married Thomas Murphy, of New York, and died, leaving several children, one of whom, John McLeod Murphy, was State Senator from New York. The Author's Mother. 67 His brother, the late Effingham H. Warner, was a prominent public man, and while a member of the Connnon Council of the city, he projected and was instrumental in carrying through the establishment of Union Park, and other city improvements. He was the founder of St. Bartholomew's Church, and his grandfather's coat-of-arms stood over the door of entrance to the first church built in Lafayette Place. He married a sister of the celebrated Methodist preacher, John Summerfield, a woman of great per- sonal charms and highly cultivated intellect, who possessed many of the tender qualities, and religious and lovely traits of her illustrious brother. She died March 13th, 1878, leaving an interesting family. One of her daughters married the Rev. A. McLean, a minister doing active and useful service in the Methodist Episcopal Church. Soon after my mother's marriage, a new field of duty and labor opened before her, as she moved soon after that event to the village of Bedford, in the State of New York, where my father became rector of the Epis- copal Church, and continued there in the faithful discharge of ministerial duties for the space of twenty-two years. I scarcely dare trust myself to speak of that beautiful, sweet and holy life which my mother led during all those years — how faithful 68 The Author's Mother. and true she was, a help-meet to her husband, sharing' with him all the trials and disappointments which fall to a minister's lot, faithfully training and instruct- ing her household and family in the principles of our holy religion, setting them a pure example, molding their Christian characters, watching over them in sickness, and soothing them with words of kindness and love, and ever acting toward her fam- ily the part of a true Christian mother — a mother whose memory will be sweet and precious to her children all the coming years. Not only was she faithful and true as a wife and mother, but faithful as a follower of Christ, and co-worker with Him in labors of love; being intimately associated in many noble deeds of charity and works of Christian benev- olence with such eminent and pure women as Mrs. Banyer, and Miss Ann Jay, Mrs. Judge William Jay, and others, belonging to the parish of Bedford. Oh! how often, as I have since journeyed along life's toilsome road, in sunshine and storm, does mem- ory recall the modest, quiet little parsonage where my childhood was spent. It was the scene of many childish sports. There I often strolled by moonlight, through the apple orchard, and plucked the delicious fruit from the trees, or went down the lane to the river's bank to angle for perch and sunfish, The Axtthors Mother. 69 or sat with my book on the moss-covered rock at the "base of an old miountain which still bore its Indian name, " Aspetong/' which always looked interest- ing, whether dressed in the light verdure of the bud- ding year, or draped in the thick green of ripe Summer, or gorgeous with Autumn's golden hues, or Winter's snowy robe of white. I often now imagine myself standing beneath that mountain, beside the familiar stream which ran along its base, meander- ing among green bushes and trees, and rich meadows, with the dear old parsonage in the distance, and just a little beyond it the church, with its towers and cupola peering through the forest trees, surrounded with its burying-ground — an omnipresent witness of human mortality — its marble monuments telling the same story amid Summer and Winter, by sunlight and by starlight, and its flowers blooming there, emblematic of a life to come. Amid all the remem- brances of childhood and that home in the parson- age, I can recall none so interesting as the picture engraven on my heart of that mother who once lived there, moved round with her pleasant look and smile amid the family group, lived there the life of faith and prayer, knelt morning and evening at the family altar, joining in the devotions after the chapter was read in the Bible, and lifting her voice in one of two 70 The Author's Mother, sacred hymns which were sung at the family altar for half a century; the one commencing with the words: " The day is past and gone, The evening shades appear, Oh ! may we all remember well The night of death draws near.'' The other : ' Blessed be the tie that binds Our hearts in Christian love, The fellowship of kindred minds Is Hke to that above." About the year 1841 my father's health became Impaired, so that he was obliged to procure assist- ance in his clerical duties, and the Rev. A. H. Part- ridge was appointed to fill that position. Soon after, my father resigned the rectorship of St. Matthew's, Bedford. Mr. Partridge was called to succeed him, and remained in charge of that church for a period of sixteen years. After a useful pastorate in build- ing up the church and organizing some new churches in the county, Mr. Partridge received and accepted a call to Christ Church, Williamsburg; L. I. Here he was a devoted and most successful minister. The large and elegant church on Bedford Avenue was built through his instrumentality, and, after a career of great usefulness and success, he died, much The Author's Mother. 71 lamented by his people. After leaving Bedford, about the year 1841, my mother spent the remaining years of her life at Greenfield Hill, Conn. , the home of her husband's ancestors. Here the family had a Summer residence, and often spent their Winters either in New York city or in Brooklyn. During the years spent at Greenfield she always exhibited the same loving tenderness and regard for her family, the same faithful devotion to household duties; much of her leisure time was spent either in reading good books or the cultivation of flowers and plants, of which she was passionately fond. The roses and flowering shrubs which adorned the pathways of her charming home were planted by her hands. The Winter of 1872, which was the last Winter of my mother's earthly sojourn, was spent at her city home on Lafayette Avenue, Brooklyn. Everything which loving children and kind friends could suggest was done to add to her comfort and prolong her life, but it was evident that she was declining in health; she had lost that bright eye and sprightliness of manner which belonged to her; her bodily illness assumed constantly a more discouraging aspect, until, at length, in the stormy, dreary month of March, not- withstanding all the advice and best skill of two able physicians, she fell asleep with hands clasped 72 The Author's Mother. together as if in the attitude of prayer and resigna- tion. Ah ! it was a sad and dreary hour in that Lafayette Avenue home when my mother closed her eyes and we were left alone without a mother. Without a mother ! Oh, what a chasm I how diffi- cult to fill ! what a separation of a most tender tie ! "What can we do in such an hour of bereavement but strive with faith's discerning eye to look above, beyond. There is, blessed be God, a silver lining to the dark, overhanging clouds — a heaven on the other side — a home where partings are not known, and where the scattered members of the household may be gathered at last in one eternal communion and fellowship. ** Oh ! sweet and blessed country, The home of God's elect ! Oh ! Eweet and blessed country, Which eager hearts expect ! Jesus, in mercy bring us To that dear land of rest, Who art, with God the Father And Spirit, ever blessed." IZ. In a previous letter, I remarked, that, in view of the retrospect of life, one thought, which impressed itself with much force upon my mind, was, the very great and growing importance of the Bible. As this» subject has elicited more than usual attention of late, especially since the publication of Rev. Heber New- ton's sermons on '' The Right and Wrong Uses of the Bible,'' it may not be amiss to devote this present letter to a few thoughts upon this most important subject. And the first thought that strikes us, a& we enter upon the subject, is this, viz. : that there can be nothing more self-evident than the absolute necessity of a divine revelation, to an intelligent and immortal being like man, to teach him the correct knowledge of God, and of human duty and destiny ? What am I ? What is my destiny ? How am I re- lated to God and the rest of the universe ? These are questions which must arise in every thoughtful mind, and in order to be answered intelligibly and correctly, require a revelation from the Creator and Author of our being. Nature is silent, the light of 73 74 The Holy Bible. reason and conscience within us gives but snght inti- mations of the future and our immortality. Unless God teach us the things of God and the future condi- tion of our race, we can know little upon these sub- jects. If the fact that we are immortal be not revealed to us, by a Being who knows and who cannot lie, then we are in darkness; then we float anxiously on a sea of doubt and uncertainty, and descend at last into the shades of an endless night. But blessed be God ! we have such a revelation, telling of the great future; telling us of God, our Father and Creator, and our relations to Him and the universe; telling us of the gradual unfolding and development of the great scheme of human redemption through a Divine Saviour. It contains God's revealed will to us. It speaks to us on its every page, telling us how we may escape the guilt and misery of sin and be restored to the divine favor and immortal happiness in the life to come. But another thought arises. By what evidence is this revelation upheld and sustained ? To this we reply: 1. It is sustained by the evidence of miracles, that is, supernatural exhibitions of divine power — such, for example, as the raising of the dead to life, the healing of bodily diseases by a single word, the creation of food miraculously, like manna, for the The Holy Bible. , 75 Israelites, the opening of the solid rock, causing the waters to flow and thus quenching their thirst. All these were acts of Divinity, and were actually true. Do you suppose that Moses could have persuaded half a million of people that they were fed by a miraculous power from the clouds, or that the water actually gushed out from the rock, if it were not actually so ? Jesus stilled the raging tempest. He raised the dead Lazarus from the grave. He put his hand on the bier and the only son of the widow of Nain rose to life at His bidding. Think you that Lazarus's sisters and the multitude of Jews there assembled, could have been made to believe that Lazarus actually came forth alive from the sepulchre, if he did not ? But again : 2. This Divine Book is sustained by the evidence of prophecy. The prophets of the Old Testament foretold events that should happen hundreds of years afterward, with the utmost minuteness and particularity; such as the coming of Christ, the time, place, mode and manner of His birth, also the circumstances of His death. The prophets also foretold the overthrow and destruction of Tyre, Nineveh, Jerusalem, the fall and dispersion of the Jews. Now, as no mere 76 The Holy Bible. human foresight could look thousands of ages ahead and tell what was to happen, there can be but one conclusion, and that is, that the Bible is divine. You have only to compare ancient prophecy with modern history to be convinced of this. But 3. There is one more evidence of which we will speak, namely the experimental one; and this is, perhaps, the strongest and the best, for the truth of the Bible. "Whoever studies that Divine Book with faith and prayer, and an earnest desire and wish to be enlightened and saved by its truth, will be con- vinced that it is divine. He will have such a convic- tion that it is from above, as no cunning syllogisms of infidels or skeptics will be able to shake or laugh out of him. There is many a poor, unlettered and humble individual who possesses this internal evi- dence of the truth of God. He has never read any book on evidence; he has never heard of Paley, or Butler, or Chalmers; he knows nothing, it may be, of what learned divines and great philosophers have written on these subjects; and yet, he has in his own heart, a most eloquent and a ceaseless witness, that the Bible is God's book, and inspired by His divine Spirit. He was once a sinner, now his heart is changed by the grace of God. He was once sad and miserable, now he rejoices in God. He has believed The Holy Bible. 77 and trusted in the promises of that Divine Book, and they have comforted him and given him hope. He has obeyed those divine counsels, and his footsteps have been enlightened. Now this is a species of evidence the very strongest and best. It cannot be overturned, and is capable of withstanding all assaults. Such a person feels within himself the transforming power of the Gospel, and knows by a consciousness within him, surer than argument, and clearer than logic, that he believes on the Son of God, and that the religion he professes is inspired of God. And, furthermore, we may remark that this Divine Book of God, which comes to us sustained and upheld by such a weight of testimony, is God's greatest and best gift to man, for it is infallibly true, N"ow this is just what we all need, an infal- lible guide to life eternal. Either it is infallible or it is nothing. If it has God for its Author, and comes from Him, then it is infallible. And here lies one of the chief characteristics of the vast superiority and importance of the Bible. When the Romanist says to me: ^^ We are the oldest Church, and the only Church; you should receive the Bible as we interpret it," I beg leave to reply: " You are not the oldest Church, nor the only Church. There is the Greek Church, from which 78 The Holy Bible. you separated, and there is the Anglo-Saxon Church,, in England, which existed there before a popish monk or priest ever came there. Besides, you 1 3ach false dogmas, heresies and superstitions, such as transubstantiation, priestly absolution, clerical celib- acy, the adoration of the Virgin Mary, of saints and images — all of which receive no countenance in God's Word. No, I want no such error and super-^ stition. Give us the Bible pure, unadulterated, divine, infallible.'^ I stick to that from Genesis to Revelation. It is God's greatest and best gift to man. It is the anchorage-ground of all our Churches, and by it they stand or fall. That Church which is nearest to and most conformed to its divine sanctions will assuredly triumph in the end. Let us keep the Bible in our churches, our homes, our public schools. Let us remember that the welfare of this free and glorious republic of ours is closely bound up with the Bible. All its civil institutions and its govern- ment are founded on it. Without its divine sanc- tions, no civil government, no courts of justice, could exist. Most opportune and proper was that late commemoration of the birth of Martin Luther, who exposed the dismal darkness of papal Rome, and restored the lost treasure of the sacred Scrip- tures; for out of that Divine Book have come the The Holy Bible. 79 mighty influences which have made this country what it is to-day. God be thanked for the glo- rious work which this great man has wrought. Far distant be that dreadful day when this land of ours, which our forefathers founded in tears and blood on the broad foundations of civil and religious liberty, shall lose its hold on the Bible, For if we lose our hold on that, then all is lost. X In the following letter it will be my aim to present some brief recollections of a Summer vacation in the beautiful town, or rather, I should say, capital city, of the State of Vermont, Montpelier ; and also to give some reminiscences of a similar period passed, in the Summer of 1876, at Great Barrington, Mass., amidst the striking scenery of the Berkshire hills. These are both spots of surpassing interest, and a Summer sojourn in either place cannot soon be forgotten. First. — It was in the month of July, in the year 1874, that I set out in company with my wife, for the first-named place, Montpelier, Vt. The streets of the city of Brooklyn were hot, dry and dusty, for the burning rays of the sun beat down with great force on the stone pavement making the air oppres- sive and stifling ; and we were glad to escape from the heat and dust of the city, and exchange them for the cooling and invigorating breezes of Long Island 80 A Summer Vacation. 81 Sound. It was a delightful change, as we sat on the steamer's deck viewing the various objects of inter- est along the shore ; now catching a glimpse of the buildings on Blackwell's Island, and of the rough waters of Hell Gate, and now taking a view of Fort Schuyler, Sand's-Point Light, and the towns, with their church-spires, which line the coast of Connecti- cut. A few hours brought us to the City of Bridge- port, where we took the cars for Hartford. We spent one night in this thriving and attractive city — noted for its fine residences, hospitable homes, splendid church edifices and other public buildings, and its Trinity College — and then proceeded, next morning, by the cars of the Hartford and Springfield and Vermont Central Railroad, to the little romantic village of Bellows Falls. We were so much charmed with this place that we concluded to tarry here for a week or ten days. The scenery here is wild and striking to a remarkable degree. The Falls tumble in wild confusion over the huge massive rocks which lie embedded in the river. You look up from the street below, and gaze in wonder at the rough, cragged steeps and rocky ledges which intervene between you and the embankment above, on which some of the dwellings stand. The beautiful Gothic Episcopal church, in which Bishop Carlton Chase 82 A Summer Vcu^ation. preached many vears. stands on one of the heights just mentioned, smromided by a grove of pines. I preached in it. by the kindly request of the rector, on the Sunday following. We formed some very pleasant acquaintances during our stay at the neat and comfortable hotel, with whon: ' t ::::ri reluc- tantly, and proceeded to the place c»f our destination, Monrpelier. This is a most ~iful and attractive city, c : ::" ining about 1-2. OOO inhabitants. Its build- ing- a: T. ri.a::v of them, of a most substantial char- acter, built 01 g^ay granite. The Episcopal church. of which the Ee^, 1)1. Hail was the rector, is a very handsome an a :e: al oran'^e strucrore. The Con- gregational Clijacn IS much the largest edifice, hav- ing four tow^ers, and consuming, it is said something like a ton of coal every Simday. Of all the pubKc buildings, however, ^^hich adorn the city, none can compare in point of beauty and inipressiveness — none is so chaste and elegant as the State House, bmlt of the purest white marble. It stands at the head of a spacious green lawn, contarns the PubKc Armory, the Hall, smnptuously furnished, for the House of Representatives and State Senate. PubKc Library, etc. We took up our abode at the American House, being most kindly cared for by the exceUent proprie- tor and his wife. Here we found some very agree- A Summer Vacation. 83 uble and excellent society. Among others, an Epis- copal clergyman, and his lady and young daugnter^ who had come from Brooklyn, and finding that they could live here with every comfort at about one-third the expense, they had made it their permanent home. We took frequent excursions together around the city, and climbed the tall mountains which surround it, from which you can see in the distance the rugged sides and majestic peak of Mount Mansfield. We were often brought together, as the doors of the^ rooms of guests opened out upon the second-story piazza, where we sat for hours conversing and look- ing out upon the street, enlivened with gay equip- ages. Thus passed away the weeks of our Summer vacation, between books and rambles and kind, pleasant intercourse of new-made friends, until, at last we bade adieu to familiar faces and started back with our own horse and carriage, just purchased for the occasion — a journey of more than four hundred miles through the many villages and towns which lie along the banks of the Connecticut River, and through the States of Vermont, Massachusetts and Connecticut. That was a long, delightful and most health-giving journey from the mountains of Ver- mont to our home in Brooklyn, and we never for- got it. 84 A Summer Vacation. Second. — Let us now proceed to give our readers some brief sketches of a second Summer vaca- tion spent by us in the town of Great Barrington, Mass. Of all the towns, I ever visited, I must say I never saw one which strikes the eye so pleasantly as this. Its wide main avenue is lined with many superb residences, and is overshadowed with the tall, graceful elms which constitute the pride and ^ornament of New England villages. A little way off irom the avenue is the Collins House, with its cot- 1;ages for guests, than which it would be difficult to find a more comfortable and pleasant home for trav- elers. Here we made our abode and enjoyed the society of some very pleasant companions, guests of the house from the City of Xew York. Among others, we received one day a very pleasant visit from Miss Kellogg, then the sole occupant of the Sherwood mansion, who extended to us a polite invitation to take tea at her house. We did so, and were most agreeably entertained by her polite and intelligent conversation. I felt a peculiar interest in visiting this house, as I had often heard my father speak of Mr. Sherwood and his successful and remarkable history. He was born in the same town with my father, in a very humble dwelling, and started forth to carve his fortune, with little or no A Summer Vacation. 85 means and little prospect of success. Being nat- urally fond of books^ he applied himself with great industry to the study of the English branches, as well as Latin classics, moved to the City of New York and proceeded to establish there a school for the education of young men, and soon became known throughout the city as a most worthy teacher and instructor of youth. After a successful career as a public teacher and scholar for many years, Mr. Sherwood moved from the city to Great Barring- ton, where he had married his wife, who, with her sisters, had conducted there one of the most cele- brated female schools in New England. Both Mr. and Mrs. Sherwood were ardent promoters of educa- tion, and we may almost say pioneers, as Mr. Sher- wood's classical school was one of the earliest insti- tutions in the City of New York ; and the female school also, of Great Barrington, dates back through a period of many years. In this pleasant mansion^ which I might almost say is classical ground, Mr. Sherwood brought up an interesting family, among whom were two engaging and accomplished daugh- ters. One of them married a Mr. Chittenden, of St„ Louis — a successful merchant, a man of large means and great influence. She died a few years since while travelling abroad for health. The other daugh- 86 A Suiumer Vacation. ter married the famous railroad manager, Mark Hop- Mns, of San Francisco, who died recently, leaving an estate of $10,000,000. She now resides in the TQagnificent residence built by her husband previous to his death, and we learn from the papers, more recently, that this worthy lady has borne the greater part of the expense of erecting a new and elegant Congregational church on the site of the old one, burned about a year since. Knowing, as I did, all these facts and historic inci- dents in the life of Mr. Sherwood, as narrated to me l)y my father, and knowing, too, that he had often spoken with great interest of his friend as a play- mate and school-companion, I could not but feel a deep interest in the old mansion. It still remains as a Summer residence of Mrs. Hopkins, and must no doubt be highly prized by her as the home of her father and mother — rich in family historical associa- tions. I shall be pardoned in this connection in add- ing a brief description of this beautiful church, so richly endowed, and an ornament to the town. It is l)uilt upon the site of the former edifice, and is trinamed with Portland brown-stone. Connected with the church is a large chapel, having the usual parlors and libraries, and joined by a long stone cor- ridor to a parsonage, in the rear of which is a fine A Summer Vacation, 87 tarn. The windows are of the best design in stained and painted glass ; two of them cost $2^,000. The chandeliers are also costly and beautiful ; the pulpit is of the finest mahogany, and the organ cost $30,000. The parsonage is a two-story house, with a hand- some portico and arch; in front is a Dutch door, a large hall with old open English grates, a parlor, a study, opening from which is the corridor running to the chapel ; also, a light and cheery dining-room opening to the east, a conservatory, kitchen, etc. The entire cost of all the buildings is estimated at little more than $102,000. This is, indeed, a noble praiseworthy offering of a Christian heart, and an example worthy of imitation. Would that more could be found to do as much for the Church of their affections. I have often since looked back and thought with pleasure of that Summer visit at Great Barrington, Mass. XI In a former letter I dwelt at some length upon the importance of the Bible. I little dreamed, Mr. Edi- tor, I should ever live to see the day when a man of genius and intellectual ability, in view of the power- ful and unanswerable evidence which upholds the Christian religion, as set forth in the inspired Word of God, could so belittle himself, and prostitute his noble faculties, as to employ them in the vain attempt to beleaguer and overthrow the Bible — God's greatest and best gift to man ; the book which has done more for the human race than any and all other books put together; more to shape the legisla- tion, and improve the morals, and develop the high- est style of civilization in man; more to enUghten ignorance, dispel doubt and fear, by drawing aside the curtain of the Eternal World, and unveiling the glories of Heaven, shining on his pathway to the grave ; more to comfort the sorrowing and suffering and give trust and triumph to the dying. May the good Lord deliver us from any such base and ignoble mission as that of outraging the sense and Christian The Bible and the Church. 89 feeling of the whole civilized world, and unhinging- faith in the existence of God and a future life ; for I can conceive of no calamity which could befall this> suffering and sorrowing world like that of the gen- eral loosening and destruction of men's faith in the Bible. To seal up the pages of God's divine book, and quench its heavenly light, were to spread dark- ness and despair. It were to drape the earth in mourning, and put an end to the only redemptive agency of the human race. Take away everything else, but oh ! take not the divine book which in early years was so often read to us by saintly lips of loved parents now sealed in the silence of the grave. Take not the book whose very words have a familiar and solemn tone, known to no others ; which have been, preached from the pulpit ; which have been repeated in the sanctuary, at the bridal and the burial ; whose sentences have awakened a reverential awe and fear in our hearts ever since the lisping days of childhood, and are graven on the tombstones of our dead whom we hope to meet again. No ! no ! But, there is another thing, also, which I little dreamed I should ever live to see, and that is, any clergyman criticising the Bible; and, instead of receiving it as an authentic, inspired and har- monious whole, independent of reason and human ^0 The Bible and the Church, knowledge, and bowing to it implicitly as of divine authority, presuming to cheapen the character of its inspiration, and so detract from that full awe and reverence in which it should be held, turn- ing it into allegories, and stories, and national traditions, instead of divine, unalterable, historic records, and thus unsettling the faith and minds of Christians, and disturbing the repose of the Church. I had always, Mr. Editor, supposed that every orthodox Church took it for granted that the Scriptures were divine and authentic ; and the busi- ness of a minister was to preach the Gospel and the sacred truths of God's divine word as there laid down and inculcated, not to exercise his puny reason by sitting in judgment on the Bible and calling in question its full inspiration, and thus seeking to be ^^wise above what is written." It seems to me that time is too valuable, life is too short, and eternity is too long, for any minister of Christ to employ his powers and his pulpit for such purposes, rather than in preaching ''Christ, and Him crucified," and seek- ing to save the souls of men. But to drop the subject of the Bible, upon which our thoughts have been thus far occupied, let me bring before your readers, in the remainder of this letter, another important subject — the Church/ The Bible and the Church. 91 and when I speak of the Church, I mean to be under- stood as embracing within it the whole body of Christ's faithful, believing followers, who take the Scriptures for their guide and rule of faith ; who are joined by faith to Christ, the living head ; who live according to His precepts, and partake of the graces of His heavenly spirit. Such constitute a vast fold, united in the unity of the spirit, and in the bond of peace; though they may assume different names, and bo separated in outward things in modes of organization and forms of worship, yet they all agree in what is most intrin- sically important : the depravity of man, the need and efScacy of a divine atonement, the necessity of repentance and faith, the need of a divine spirit, and the eternal happiness of the righteous. What a noble band ! and what noble works are being wrought out by all these various bodies of Christians ! They have founded our political and religious institutions — our schools, and colleges, and ohurches. Thuy are the safeguard and glory of the land. By their teaching and their example, they have purified public sentiment, and created a moral tone in society, without which it would become a sink of moral pollution and a den of thieves. They have visited hospitals and prisons, and carried the 92 The Bible and the Church. consoling, comforting and regenerating influence of the religion of Christ into the dark homes of vice and want. They have upheld the Sabbath and the sanc- tuary, and kept the light of the Gospel burning on the watch-towers of Zion to guide the weary and benighted into safety and peace. They have carried the Gospel's light to pagan shores, and kindled up fires under the sky of the Equator, and amid the snows of Greenland. ^m I pity the man who feels no sympathy and no thrill of spiritual pleasure, as he thinks of what the vast hosts of Protestant Christendom are doing for our world. I have little sympathy with that narrow spirit of sectarianism which never looks beyond the narrow boundaries of its own little fold, nor extends the hand of sympathy, or look of kindness, toward the great Christian brotherhood. I can truly say, God bless them, and prosper them in their noble work. It has fallen to the lot of the writer to be trained up and ordained a minister in the Protestant Episcopal Church — an honored and historic Church — at whose altars have ministered such men as Dr. Francis L. Hawks, Dr. Stephen H. Tyng, Dr. Milnor, Dr. Cut- ler; and which has embraced within its communion such honored and worthy laymen as Governor John Jay, George Washington, Henry Clay, Madison, The Bible and the Church. 93 Monroe, Arthur, and others. Let me conclude these thoughts on the Church by barely suggesting some two or three characteristics which to the mind of the writer present the Episcopal Church in a favor- able aspect. 1. The Episcopal Church is a Scriptural Church. It is founded on the infallible teaching of the Bible. It says: ''Holy Scripture containeth all things necessary to salvation, so that whatsoever is not read therein, nor may be proved thereby, is not to be required of any man that it should be believed as an article of faith, or be thought requisite or necessary to salvation. In the name of the Holy Scripture, we do understand those canonical books of the Old and New Testament, of whose authority was never any doubt in the Church.'' 2. The Episcopal Church is also an Evangelical Church ; for it holds that we are saved, not by good works, or penances, but through the merits of Christ. Listen to one of its articles: ''They also are to be held accursed that presume to say that every man shall be saved by the law or sect which he profes- seth, so that he be diligent to frame his life accord- ing to that law and the light of nature, for Holy Scripture doth set out unto us, only the name of Jesus Christ, whereby man must be saved." 94: The Bible and the Church, 3. The Episcopal Church is possessed of a rich and Scriptural Liturgy — the growth of ages. It contains- the most subhme devotions and saintly prayers which have been uttered by saints and martyrs in all ages, and which have called forth the highest enco- miums of Christians of every name. This feature of the Episcopal Church is one which is commending itself more and more in the eyes of the Christian pubHc and has led many, outside of its pale, to adopt some form of hturgy in public worship. 4. The Episcopal Church is also a more liberal Church than many others. It tolerates within ita fold many schools of thought, and various shades of opinion, and has grown, at least within the writer's recollection, far more tolerant than it formerly was of the opinions and faith of others. 5. The Episcopal Church is also a progressing Church. Look at the statistics, as presented by the late General Convention, of its progress within the last ten years. It is making rapid strides. Its mis- sions, at home and abroad, have been multipHed; its dioceses, enlarged ; its clergy and members, vastly increased. Its institutions have grown with great rapidity. It is well adapted to all classes and condi- tions, and by God's blessing, will continue to make progress. XII. Since I last had the pleasure of addressing you, it has been my privilege to make an enjoyable visit of several weeks to the great and growing City of New York, which now ranks first and foremost of all American cities in art, in science, in material and religious progress; in the grandeur and elegance of her public and private edifices; in the beauty and splendor of her churches, and in her many noble monuments of Christian charity. New York, it must be admitted, now stands on a proud pre-emi- nence. To one looking back over a period of fifty years, the changes wrought by the hand of time seem marvelous indeed. I can remember when New York was but an inconsiderable place, and Brooklyn a small village. The chief means of travel then was by an old-fashioned stage-coach, from Westchester County down through what was then and is now called ''The Bowery," which carried the mail and passengers. No cars and steamboats. Now, what a 95 ^6 New York: its Growth, etc. contrast, in the crowds of palatial steamboats and of steam-cars which daily bring their crowds of visitors to the city. I am now safely and comfortably lodged near Madison Avenue, a few blocks above '' The Grand Central Depot/' where there formerly stood open, barren fields comparatively worthless. A few moments' walk leads me out to Madison and Pifth Avenues, both of which are lined with costly and imposing private dwellings and churches, which cannot be surpassed for elegance and grandeur in their style of architecture. A few Sundays ago we w^alked a short distance down Madison Avenue, and attended divine service in St. Bartholomew's Church, the Rev. Dr. Samuel Cooke, pastor. This church is quite a beautiful edifice. The ceilings and walls are finely frescoed. A row of exquisitely wrought colored marble pillars runs through the church on either side of the middle aisle. The side and altar windows, covered with Scripture scenes, adorn the edifice. I was particularly drawn to this church, as I had never seen the interior, and was anxious to hear the rector preach, who was an old and long-tried friend of mine. We were fellow-students in the Theological Seminary of the Episcopal Church in this city as long ago as 1837 and 1838. Dr. Cooke is a man of rare pulpit talents, and his career has been New York : its Growth^ etc. 97 a most successful and useful one. Starting out from the seminary, he began his ministerial labors in a missionary parish in the town of Lyons, "Western New York, where he was instrumental in gathering a congregation and building a neat and tasteful .church; from thence he was called to the church at Geneva. From Geneva he received a call to the Parish of St. Paul's Church, New Haven, Conn. This was a field peculiarly adapted to a minister possessing his fine imaginative and descriptive talents, and attractive oratory. He soon became very popular. His church was largely frequented by students, and rich spiritual blessings attended his labors. From New Haven, he received a call to St. Bartholomew's Church, and devoted his time and faithful labors to the spiritual welfare of this church, which stood for many years on the corner of Lafay- ette Place and Great Jones Street but was subse- quently abandoned for the present church, standing on the corner of Madison Avenue and Forty-Third Street. Few men have maintained for so many years such a faithful and useful record as Dr. Cooke. It has been our privilege, likewise, on one or two occasions, to attend the services on Sunday at St. 98 New York: its Growth, etc. Thomas's Church, corner of Fifth Avenue and Fifty- third Street. This splendid and imposing church stands on the most commanding and elevated part of Fifth Avenue. Its interior adornments, its fine paintings within the chancel, its magnificent organ- music, its exquisite steeple-chimes, all contribute to make St. Thomas's Church a most attractive spot to the Sunday church-goer and worshiper, and the church is always well filled. The rector. Dr. Morgan, is a man of excellent char- acter, justly esteemed for his long and faithful services. His white and flowing locks give him a most venerable appearance. His age does not seem, as yet, to detract much from his popu- larity, and this is made up by the very accept- able services and popular talents of his assistant, the Rev. J. Macay Smith. He is fortunate, cer- tainly, in having so desirable and acceptable a coadjutor and fellow-laborer in the church. What a most interesting past does the history of this church present ! When St. Thomas's Church stood on the corner of Broadway and Houston Street, it was attended for years by crowds of eager and interested listeners during the ministry of Dr. Hawks. None who ever listened to his wonder- New- York: its Growth, etc. 99 ful oratory could easily forget him. The pews, aisles and galleries of the church were always full, leaving no standing-room. Among the great distinguished pulpit orators of the past, who can cease to remember the names of Dr. Higbie ; Dr. Haight, of Trinity Church — now passed away ; the elder Dr. Stephen H. Tyng, too, still living to a good old age at his home on the Hudson ? Few men have left such a striking and indelible im- pression on the community as Dr. Tyng. It is said that when a young man, while preaching in a small^ inconsiderable parish in Virginia, he received a call to a large church in Philadelphia. A number of the parishioners hearing of it, fearing lest he might not be able to satisfy the expectations of so important and large a parish, sent him a paper, signed by sixty heads of families, advising him not to accept the call. Dr. Tyng, on receiving the document, immediately resolved that he would accept it, saying that if sixty persons opposed, that would determine him to go and see if he could not make them think differently. He went, and soon satisfied their highest expectations. From this large and growing parish Dr. Tyng came to the City of New York, assuming the rectorship of St. Georore's Church, which had been made vacant 100 New York: its Growth, etc, by the much lamented death of Dr. Milnor. The success which attended his labors was most remark- able, and soon resulted in the abandonment of old St. George's Church in Beekman Street, and the erec- tion of a more spacious edifice on the corner of Sixteenth Street, facing Stuyvesant Square. Multi- tudes now living can recall the remarkable public addresses and powerful platform speeches which he formerly made in behalf of various religious and char- itable institutions, such as the American Bible Society, the American Tract Society and in behalf of temper- ance and moral reform. On all such occasions his efforts were master-pieces of argument and reason- ing, such as made a most teUing impression upon his auditors. Among the other objects, the visitor to the city will not fail to notice the imposing St. Patrick's Cathedral, standing on the crown of the hill on Fifth Avenue. Its vast roof, and towers, and buttresses of white marble, arrest the eye of the passer-by, and crowds may be seen entering its open doors daily. Following up Madison Avenue, beyond the site of the Cathedral, you pass by quite a number of fine churches ; such, for example, as the church of the Hev. Dr. Sabine — Reformed Episcopal — a very chaste New York: its Growth, etc, 101 and beautiful house of worship ; the Rev, Dr. Robin- son's — Presbyterian ; the Rev. Dr. Reed's — Dutch Reformed Church. The Church of the Holy Spirit, the Rev. Dr. Gilbert^ pastor, is an Episcopal church, and one of the most beautiful structures on the avenue. It is richly ornamented, has a fine organ, v^ith good music, and its pastor is a useful and acceptable preacher. The new Methodist church, corner of Sixtieth Street, is a very ornate, stylish church- sufficiently so to suit the most fastidious class of worshipers. There is one more church, called the Church of the Beloved Disciple, near Eighty-sixth Str(jet, the Rev. Mr. Warner, rector. It was built and endowed by a lady, Miss Caroline Talman. Monuments to the deceased members of the Talman family stand in the wall on the side of the church. The music, by choir-boys, is well conducted and im- pressive, and the rector preaches an excellent, practical sermon, without notes. One day we crossed and entered Central Park by the entrance not far from Eighty-second Street, which brings you to the Museum and Art Gallery, and in front of the famous Obelisk brought from the River Nile, in Egypt. Upon it you may read the old inscriptions and see the sacred birds, and as you 102 New York: its Growth, etc. look at the tall, massive stone column, you wonder how it could have been brought such a distance — all the way from the Xile. The Art Gallery and Museum are well worth visiting. Many rare old pictures adorn the Gallery. The lover of art and antiquity might spend days in examining them and the rare curiosi- ties of the Museum. Leaving these, we strolled down through the avenues of the Park, stopping to exam- ine the many statues which have been erected here and there to the memory of great historical person- ages, such as Shakespeare, Sir Walter Scott, Hum- boldt, Robert Burns, Moore, FitzGreene Halleck and others. The lake, the shaded avenues and wooded lawns of the Park afford dehghtf ul breathing-places to the citizens of Xew York during the Spring and Summer months. To-day being Easter Sunday, we went forth beneath a bright and joyous sunshine to commemorate the grand and glorious festival of the Resurrection. The services, which were deeply interesting, were held in the Church of the Heavenly Rest, the Rev. Dr. Howland being rector. This is certainly a most attractive church. The large, full-sized picture of the Saviour occupying the whole space in the chancel below the elegant stained window, is very impress- ive, and seems to invite the worshiper to that New York: its Growth, etc. 103 heavenly rest which He came to bestow on all who will follow Him and walk in His blessed footsteps. The rector who founded this beautiful church, which stands on Fifth Avenue, near Forty-fifth Street, is now in impaired health. But he is ably assisted by the Rev. D. P. Morgan, a most earnest and eloquent preacher. Many are being drawn to the church and benefited by his impressive style of preaching. A band of choir-boys give excellent music, and the prospects of this church for the future look very encouraging. XIII. I HATE, in former letters, spoken of such topics as ^^The Bible" and •'•'The Church." In the foUowing letter I will speak of home. And oh I what a magic and powerful influence does that simple word, home^ exert upon the himian heart I The first home was in Eden, and was formed by the Creator Himself, and consisted of Adam and Eve. who walked forth in loving communion, fresh from the Creator's hand; and so this divine appointment of the domestic insti- tution of home in Paradise has outlived the convulsions of kingdoms and the destruction of empires. The early training and instruction of the mother at home by the cradle and fireside help, more than anything else, to frame those habits of character and conduct which form the future man, and remain with him as governing principles of conduct in after life, long after that Christian mother may have moldered into dust. The greatest of earthly sovereigns, Xapoleon, when speaking of the power of mothers in the home- circle to shape a nation's destiny, once said, ''The great need of France is mothers.'^ And Mohammed 104 The Family. 105 expressed forcibly the same truth when he said, ^'Paradise is at the feet of mothers." There is no overestimating the importance of our early childhood home — the centre of the purest and most tender affection— where every good and holy principle has been cultivated by a mother's hand, and whence so many of the great and good in all ages^ have come to bless the world. Oh ! how does the memory of our early home, its dear inmates, its fire- side surroundings, and, above all, the picture of one who with a patient devotion and meek endurance, ever watched and guarded our steps, and dismissed us at twilight's evening hour with a prayer and a blessing — oh ! how, I say, does the memory of such scenes shine in the past like a bright star and encour- age us along life's weary, toilsome pathway. Ah ! there is wonderful truth and force in those beautiful lines of Fanny I. Crosby : *' 'Tis whispered in the ear of God ; 'Tis murmured through our tears ; ***Tis linked with happy childhood days And blessed in riper years. ** That hallowed word is ne'er forgot, No matter where we roam — The purest feelings of the heart Still cluster round our home. 106 The Family. **Dear resting-place, where weary Thought May dream a^yay its eare, Love's gentle star unvails her Hght, And shines in beauty there." Let me proceed now to state what ought to be the characteristics of every true home j and — 1. It ought to he a Christian home. There can be no well-regulated home without piety, w^ithout religion, without the love and fear of Almighty God. The divine origin of the home and the family, the divine sanction thrown around it, and the divine laws written down in God's Book for the regulation and perpetuity of the marriage relation, all go to show that the only true conception of an earthly home as it should be is a Christian home. And yet, how many are there who, it is to be feared, enter into this most serious and solemn of all condi- tions, involving human happiness and human destiny, from the most frivolous considerations ; to gratify some foolish whim or fancy, some impulse of passion, or, from mercenary motives, they barter away their hearts' best affections for gold, and soon they wake up from their frivolous dream and delusion only to TeaHze the sternness of the compact upon which they have entered, and to find, when too late, that they have made the one grand mistake of their lives, and The Family. 107 entailed upon themselves a consequent wretchedness, from which there is no remedy, no refuge but the grave ! Better remain as you are, alone, than to run such a fearful risk as that of assuming the marriage vow hastily and foolishly, from sentimental fancy or blind passion. Most deplorable will be the consequences if you exclude religious considerations from that most sacred compact. Both reason and Scripture unite to protest against the union of a believer with an unbeliever, and exhort us to *^ ^ marry only in the Lord. " There must be kindness, gentleness, meekness, forbearance, ministries of love and Christian affection toward one another — not only on the part of parents toward each other, but also toward children. By the influence of early teaching and example, the charac- ter is formed and the child acquires those traits and qualities which shape and form its character. Chris- tianity must begin at home. If it is not there, it is nowhere. The most important question is not. Does the minister wear a gown or a surplice ? Do you attend religious meetings and get up church- fairs ? but. What are you at home 9 Is home a better and happier place for your living in it ? Ah ! there is many a gorgeous mansion, many a home of palatial grandeur, adorned with artistic beauty ; but 108 The Family. its halls are the abodes of fretfulness — discord, and mutual distrust breathe over its sumptuous apartments like a robed skeleton. There is no Christianity there — no heartfelt principle of piety, no faith in God in that household. If you would, therefore, make home the happiest place — the source of the sweetest con- solation; if you would have your children prove a blessing, and not a curse, see to it that you first, and above all, make your home a Christian home. 2. In the next place, notice another characteristic of a true home. It should he a cheerful home. Henry Ward Beecher says: ''A man's house or home should be on the hilltop of cheerfulness and serenity ^^so high that no shadows rest upon it. The morning comes so early, the evening tarries so late, that the day has twice as many golden hours as those of other men. He is to be pitied whose house or home is in some valley of grief, between the hills, with the longest night and the shortest day. Home should be the centre of joy, equatorial and tropical." There is much truth stated here. A Christian home ought, above all, to be a place of cheerfulness. It is a libel on religion to suppose that it consists in an austere manner, and a sad countenance, and going through life with downcast looks, whining and fret- ting, and forever singing penitential psahns. The The Family. 109 Saviour Himself, though a man of sorrows, yet joined in the innocent festivities of a wedding, and converted the water into wine. It would be derogatory to the character of our Father and Creator to suppose that He intended that his children in this world should not participate in life's innocent pleasures and enjoy- ments. On the contrary, it is a command and a duty enjoined upon Christians, ^^ Rejoice always; and again I say rejoice." And again, it is said, ^^A cheerful heart doeth good like a medicine.'' " Young men," said Dr. Grifl&n to a class of theological students, '^I wish to teach you the Christian duty of laughing." If you would make your home what it ought to be, cultivate this habit of cheerfulness ; throw bright gleams of sunshine by your smiles and kind words amid the family group, as they gather round the evening fireside. Smiles cost but little, but remem- ber they bring encouragement, and, like the gentle Summer rain upon the flowers, so do they scatter fragrance and beauty over life's pathway. Such a home, no matter how humble it may be, when thus made cheerful and glad with kind words, will be the one spot toward which the hearts of its inmates will turn lovingly, in after years, as the dearest spot beneath the sun. 110 The Family. 3. Another thing which ought to be a characteristic of a true home : It should he a healthy home. This is likewise a matter of great importance, and too often neglected. How can you expect your home to be cheerful and pleasant when its inmates are sickly and puny and weak ? Mens sana in corpore sano — a sound mind in a sound body. If you would have healthful emotions of the mind — if you would have pure, transparent thoughts, take care of the body, and obey strictly the laws that pertain to your physi- cal well-being. The great and good Book says : '^I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies — a living sacrifice — holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service." It is a religious duty, then, to observe the laws of health, and take care of the body. And in order to do this, people must have knowledge ; they must be instructed as to that monument of wonderful divine skill, the human body — the nature and adapta- tion of all its parts, and the means of their preserva-^ tion ; they should be taught the need of exercise, pure air and pure water, pure sunshine, proper and thorough drainage of their homes, the proper observ- ance of the laws of diet and bodily cleanliness — all these things are necessary to a true home. What matters it, though you live in a home of grandeur, or The Family. Ill in a gorgeous palace of Oriental splendor, and have every luxury and ornament which wealth can give, if there be not roseate health within ? You may have homes graced with pictures, refined by books, beauti- fied by flowers, but what will all these avail, if there be not there the joyousness and sweet treasure of health ? You may ride in your magnificent coach to church, with your liveried servants, and walk up the aisle in gorgeous, rustling silks, but what will it all avail if there be no roseate tint of health on the human face divine ? XIV. In the following letter it will be my aim to present some brief recollections of two very distinguished Episcopal clergymen. The first is that of Francis L. Hawks, D.D., LL.D. When I first knew him he was preaching in Trinity and St. Paul's churches, in New Haven, as assistant to the Rev. Dr. Croswell. But it was not long before he accepted a call to Philadelphia as assistant to Bishop White in St. James' church. In 1831 he became rector of St. Stephen's church, New York, and in the following year of St. Thomas' church, on the corner of Broad- way and Houston street. This was the scene of Dr. Hawks' most eloquent efforts as a preacher. He was also a powerful speaker in the conventions and councils of the church. His gifts as an orator surpassed, I think, those of any speaker I ever heard. Great numbers flocked to his church from all parts of the city and beyond it, and all were moved and entranced by his effective preaching. His deep, broad and impressive tones in reading the service of the Episcopal Church 112 THE REV. FRANCIS L. HAWKS, D.D., LL.D., OF New Yobk. Bev, Dr, Hawks. 113 arrested the attention. His imagination would carry them captive, and his pathos would move them to tears. No greater pulpit orator ever graced the Epis- copal Church. Besides, he was deeply learned and skilled in the knowledge of canon law and church history. After Dr. Hawks left St. Thomas' church he became rector of Calvary church, corner of Twenty- first street and Fourth avenue, where he remained for five years. During the civil war Dr. Hawks preached in Baltimore. He then returned to New York, where he ministered in a church built for him by friends and admirers. Increasing years and bod- ily infirmities impaired his energies, and soon after, in 1865, he departed this life, leaving behind him a well-earned fame. He was a thoroughly evangelical preacher, and a warm advocate of the polity of the Episcopal Church. He preached the pure gospel, viewing man as a lost sinner, with no hope or refuge but in Christ. His last utterance was: ''I cling to the cross of Jesus as my only hope." More than once he declined an important bishopric, and his literary remains include several volumes. The second is that of Bishop Hobart. Bishop John Henry Hobart was a most energetic, talented, and popular divine, who did more, perhaps, than any 114 Bishop Hohart. other prelate to advance the interests and prosperity of the Episcopal Church in this country. He was of English descent, born in Philadelphia Sept. 14, 1775. His early education and training devolved very much upon his mother, who seems to have been a woman of fine abilities and many accomplishments. He entered the grammar school in Philadelphia and subsequently graduated at Princeton College, where he was appointed tutor in the year 1796. He studied theology under the direction of Bishop White, by whom he was ordained deacon in June^ 1798. He spent some time in the discharge of his duties as rector of St. George's parish, Hempstead, L. I. By this time he had become a man of mark^ and exhibited such extraordinary pulpit powers that the attention of more important congregations was drawn to him. He received a call to St. Mark's church in the City of New York, which was soon followed by a still more important call to become assistant minister of Trinity church. He filled this position with great and increasing popularity from about the year 1801 to 1811, when, in consequence of the failing health and infirmities of Bishop Moore, he was elected, almost unanimously. Bishop of the diocese of New York. Thus was it that Bishop Hobart rose from one position to another until he \ THE RIGHT REV. JOHN HENRY HOBART, D.D., LL. D. Third Bishop of New York. Bishop Hobart, 115 reached the highest pinnacle of power and influence in the American Episcopal Church. How well, and successfully, he discharged the important trust his- tory testifies. He not only administered his func- tions as bishop with great care and unfaltering zeal and promptitude, but he also carried his labors into other vacant dioceses, particularly New Jersey and Connecticut. He helped to establish in New York City the General Theological Seminary and published many books and controversial writings in defence of Church doctrine and polity. The accumulating labors of Bishop Hobart began at length to make serious inroads upon his constitu- tion, and it was thought advisable for him to visit Europe, which he did in 1822, travelling through England, Scotland, Wales, France, Switzerland and Italy. In all these countries he was received with marks of favor, and returned home in 1824 with renewed health. He still continued to labor on, in his accustomed round of duties, in frequent visita- tions of his parishes. I can recall some of his visita- tions to my father's parish at Bedford, IST. Y. I remember his intellectual face and keen eye, which betokened great earnestnes and intensity of thought, and how powerfully and impressively he conveyed his thoughts to the minds of his hearers. While he 116 Bishop Hohart. was making one of these visitations in the parish of his friend Dr. Rudd, at Auburn, N. Y., in the year 1830, he was prostrated with a sudden illness, which proved to be his last. His death made a most pro- found impression throughout the country. Many funeral orations and commemorative discourses were preached, and no less than thirteen of them were published in his memoir. XV. We have just returned from the city, after a stay of something over two months, and are noYv^ back again in our lovely country home. While in the city our time was spent partly in attending to busi- ness and partly in the enjoyment of the kindly hos- pitality and intercourse of friends and relatives. We stopped a part of the time not far from the resi- dence of General Grant, in Sixty-sixth Street, Of course our very contiguity to this distinguished man — so justly esteemed for his great services to his country, and so universally sympathized with dur- ing his long and painful illness — served to increase the interest we felt in him; and we eagerly perused the morning and evening papers to learn the latest news concerning the health of the old hero of our Civil War. As I said before, we are back again within our Summer home. It is a bright and beau- ful morning in the leafy month of June. The sun has arisen, and is marching along the blue heavens, pouring his cheering beams upon the landscape. A soft, gentle breeze rustles amid the trees. All 117 118 Summer Life at Waldegrave Cottage, nature is dressed in its loveliest attire; the air is redolent with the perfume of flowers ; the sweet notes of the robins and blue-birds fall soothingly on the ear. Our cottage is pleasantly located on a gentle slope of ground, and stands on a fine avenue, which is lined on either side with tall, graceful elms. With its green, shaded lawn in front, its veranda covered with honeysuckles, and its roses and many- hued flowers and shrubs, it is a pleasant country home. There are many beautiful drives all about us. This morning, let us go, if you will, to ''Keyser Island " — so named from its proprietor. It is a fav- orite drive with people here, and lies down by the waters of Long Island Sound. After a few miles' ride through the town and its outskirts, we cross a salt marsh and then come upon the island, on which, there is a handsome residence, with cultivated grounds, fruit-trees, a variety of shrubbery, and some fine pieces of statuary ornamenting the walks. The road winds around the island on the edge of the water. As we drive along, we see the mossy rocks and hear the plashing waves as they dash against the pebbly beach. In sight are several wooded islands, with their habitations, for which this coast is remarkable. Out upon the water may be seen many sail-boats and little oyster-craft. Out Class Meeting at Yale. 119 upon these very waters where our eyes now rest, in the month of July, 1779, a British ship came to anchor, and its forces, disembarking, proceeded under Try on, up to the town, which was then a small hamlet of a few houses, and burned them to the ground. What a contrast between that scene and i^he one presented at this day of a thriving city of iifteen thousand inhabitants ! There are scenes and events in our lives which leave unusually interesting memories behind them. One of these is the recollection of college life at Yale. Who could ever forget the morning when he started, followed by a mother's tender smile, and a father's Hessing, for the distant college, to enter for the first time its academic halls, to pass his examination in presence of the august members of the faculty, and then to step forth with the proud feeling that his name has been enrolled as one of the Freshman class. I can well recollect how elated I was as I left the building and walked down under the elms, through the college grounds, looking with interest into the faces of my class-mates whom I had met. Who can forget the old familiar haunts, the recita- tion rooms, the oft-frequented library, the cabinet, the Trumbull gallery with its fine paintings, includ- ing the portraits of the faculty and the striking f am- 120 Class Meeting at Yale. ily picture of Bishop Berkeley ? Could one forget the splendid lectures of Professors Benjamin Silliman, Olmstead^ Goodrich, or the meetings and exercises of the various literary societies ? Could any one forget Commencement Day, when, standing on the stage, amid men of learning and renown, and in presence of anxious relatives and friends, he deliv- ered his alloted speech, and then took his final departure, bidding farewell to college hfe and college companions ? "With all these scenes fresh in our minds, we come back to-day to meet the small rem- nant of our class left, after fifty years spent in the pleasures and toils of professional life. To-day we took the cars at an early hour for Xew Haven, arriv- ing about half -past ten a.m., thus giving us time to rest a while, dine at our hotel, and take a short ramble through the beautiful city, and view once more the ever favorite halls of Yale. There stand the same time-worn structures we remember, but with them are many new ones, fine noble edifices, such as the Sheffield Scientific School and the Art Gallery, the Marquand Chapel, the new dormitories, and various buildings for scientific and literary pur- poses. The hour having arrived for our meeting, we proceeded to the hospitable home of Professor Class Meeting at Yale. 121 Thatcher, the class-secretary. It was the identical house so long occupied and blessed by the presence of that good man, President Day. Judge of our sur- prise, on entering the professor's study, to find there gathered no less than twenty men out of thirty-five survivors of a class of seventy-five who graduated at Yale in the year 1835. What a mile-stone this is in life's journey ! What a hill-top to reach and stand on for a moment, while we look back over the rough roads and sharp, sunny peaks we have left behind us! We can scarcely expect to have another gathering like this; certainly we cannot see all these faces again. But though old in appearance they are young in heart and cherish a fond affection for each other and their Alma Mater. There were present Professor Thatcher, so long and so deservedly held in high esteem for his services as Professor of the Latin Lan- guage and Literature in Yale College (now Emeri- tus); Professor Brocklesby, of Hartford, Conn., who has filled, with great credit to himself and Yale, the chair of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy in Trinity College for forty years ; the Rev. Mr. Sher- man, a missionary for many years in Palestine ; the Rev. Dr. Cheeseborough, of Saybrook, Conn.; the Rev. A. M. Colton, of East Hampton, Mass. (the two latter having resigned their parishes at the age of 122 Class Meeting at Yale. seventy) ; the Rev. Mr. Butler, of Dorchester, Mass. Besides these there were present the Rev. Dr. How- ard, of Buffalo, N. Y., an Episcopal clergyman, and the Rev. George W. Nichols, also a clergyman of the Church, formerly of Brooklyn, now of Norwalk, Conn.; also several distinguished physicians. Dr. Robinson, of Concord, Mass. ; Dr. Dimon, of Auburn, N. Y. ; Dr. Josiah Abbott, of Winchester, Mass. ; Dr. Daniel L. Adams, of Ridgefield, Conn.; S. H. Galpin, of Washington, D. C; Edmund White, of New York; Amos Pettingell, of Philadelphia, a successful teacher of the deaf and dumb; O. B. Loomis, of New York, a painter of note ; J. F. Seymour, of Onondaga, N. Y., a distinguished lawyer, who has held several public ofl&ces, and is a brother of Governor Seymour, of New York. So that it will be seen that the class of 1835 presents a record of useful work. We lis- tened with deep interest to the accounts which each member of the class gave of himself, heard letters read from absent ones, examined their photographs, ^tc, until a late hour in the evening, and then, after a bountiful repast, we separated for our homes. It was an occasion never to be forgotten. XVI. The sentence originally pronounced upon our first parents, after they had fallen, " In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread/' though a just and well deserved penalty for disobedience was, nevertheless, a sentence mingled with mercy. It would not be difficult to show that the Almighty was consulting for the highest good of His creatures when He thus made labor their inevitable lot. I say, inevitable, for, look where we will, with few exceptions, it is only by hard toil that men gain their daily bread, and when he has not literally to live by the sweat of Ms brow, he may have to do that, which is more difficult still — live by the sweat of his brain. Intel- lectual food like bodily, must be gathered by dint of industry and toil. So that it is the dispensation under which we all live that we should be, each one, a laborer. Go where you will, whether to the regions covered with polar snows, or those scorched by the rays of a tropical sun, and you will find the ground yields little that labor does not extort from its bosom. This might seem at first a stern decree, that all men 123 124 The Great Object of Life. should be under the necessity of toiling for a liveli- hood and often wringing only a scanty subsistence from the earth. Yet, a little close reflection will serve to convince us that this arrangement of Provi- dence is most wise and that it would be disastrous to the human race to do away with this necessity for toil. For, who does not know that labor brings with it enjoyment and health and contentment of mind ? Who so miserable as the perfectly idle man, who does nothing but sit and eat and sleep away his life ? Who so miserable as he, and as a general thing who so little deserving of regard ? But while it is a good thing to be industrious, and to labor in some honest calling and aim to supply our temporal wants, the question here arises, is this the great object of life ? Is it not a vastly more important thing for men to make provision for the higher and enduring life of the soul ? Our Saviour taught us this great lesson of making provision for the life to come when He de- clared " man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.'^ Let me ther proceed to illustrate this last point by, first, appealing to the example of Deity, Consider the Supreme Being as the great Architect of this creation, calling into being innumerable worlds, peopling im- mensity with mighty globes, and covering them with The Great Object of Life. 125 their countless races of living creatures. See Him guiding and controling these worlds, ordering their complex machinery and laws. From day to day He stretches His guardian wing over them all and over the countless beings that inhabit them. Look at this world in which we live, adorned with noble forests, lovely lakes and rivers, and majestic mountains. See the sun which '' cometh forth as a bridegroom out of his chamber and rejoiceth as a giant to run his course," dispensing heat and life, scattering his cheering and gladsome beams upon both the animate and the inanimate creation. Behold the silvery moon, shedding down upon this globe her mild radiance. Look at the countless stars as they shine nightly, in the firmament. Take the telescope and direct your steadfast and eager gaze into those vast and interminable spaces where the great God is carrying on His mighty operations. As you cast your feeble sight thither, you perceive that the most distant stars within our vision are only the porch way — the suburbs, that lead to the myriads upon myri- ads of worlds which cover the plains of immensity. Now what can you find, let me ask, as you take a survey of all this wondrous extent of the operations of Deity — I say what can you find to countenance for a moment the selfish idea that the great object of 126 The Great Object of Life. life .here is to live for one's self, to seek to amass earthly wealth and gratify earthly appetites and passions ? What is the Deity doing in all these countless worlds ? Is He seeking to enrich Himslf ? Xo; He is always giving from His own inexhaustible fullness to benefit and bless the creatures of His hand. And shall man make it his chief business to hve to acquire earthly good and seek the bread that perisheth, when he has before him such an example of ceaseless beneficence as that of Deity ? But look at another example to show what is the great and true object of life — that of Jesus Christ. What does His example teach us ? Does that give any approval to the thought that the great object of life it to pursue mere temporary good ? Reflect upon Jesus in His nativity ; though He was the earth's Creator, yet stooping to lie down on a bed of straw and to have His first home on this earth with the beasts of the stall, while beings fron the heavenly world descend and hover over His rude birthplace, and its own new-made star shines above it. Think of Him in His life and ministry : keeping company with humble fishermen while giving often startling and wonderful proofs of His Grodhead, as when He stood at the mouth of Lazarus' tomb, and cried with a loud voice '• Lazarus, come forth '" and he who had The Great Object of Life. VZ7 been dead four days and had seen corruption came forth ahve again, or when He paused in His journey and regarded the cry of the poor bhnd beggar near Jericho and made him to see the sweet vision of the Hght and of the countenances of friends. Look at Jesus in all His earthly toils and labors and miracles which were done without fee or reward, out of pure love of doing good, while no return was asked save only the look of that thankfulness and love which were inspired in the souls of those poor widows and suffer- ing children upon whom His blessed acts of mercy were bestowed ; look at Him at last assailed by His enemies and bloodthirsty persecutors, condemned to death, nailed to the cross and there expiring in agony, while, with an upward look of pitying love, He prays for His murderers, '' Father forgive them for they know not what they do !" Then think of His resurrection : His sacred form was laid in the rocky sepulchre and guarded well by Roman soldiers ; and yet He bursts these bonds and rises up a glorious conqueror over death and the grave, thus making it sure that the dead shall be revived again. And once more think of the touching incidents which after His resurrection followed His discourse with Mary, His sudden and unexpected interviews with His disciples, His mysterious walk with two of them as 128 The Great Object of Life. they went to the village of Emmaus, His gentle reproof of Thomas, His final charge and commis- sion to the Apostles to go forth and preach the Gospel to every creature ; and then, follow Christ to that last, never to be forgotten scene of His ascension from Mount Olivet, when, on giving His disciples His parting blessing. His radiant form suddenly rose upward amid the clouds. Yes, look at Jesus as He appears in all the wonderful events of His life, and then say if life's great and highest good is to please and gratify one's self, to amass riches and provide the bread of this world only ; or, is it not rather to seek that enduring bread which cometh from heaven, to cultivate that nobler, that everlasting life of the soul for which it was created in the image and likeness of God ? Finally, we will make an appeal to the example of the holy angels. What is their occupation ? Is not their life spent in ceaseless benevolence and tender sympathy and helpful ministrations in behalf of others ? We are told, that, " there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth" and again, ^^ Are they not all" says an Apostle "ministering spirits sent forth to minister to them that shall be heirs of salvation." All those varied ranks of celestial intelh- gences, of archangels, cherubim and seraphim which The Great Object of Life. 129 surround the throne above, and continually ascribe praise and honor and glory to Him Who sitteth thereon ; while those whose duty is here are ever busy in their kind offices to God's believing people, succor- ing and sustaining them in their earthly conflicts and trials. With intense longing they welcome each returning penitent in the Church below, and the joyful news of the blessed transformation fills heaven with new transports of rejoicing. What does such a spectacle teach but this, that the highest object and purpose that man can live for is to be '^ not weary in well doing " and to consecrate himself to that charity v^hich is life eternal. " Life is real, life is earnest And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest , Was not spoken of the soul," And the soul's life is in God ; and, God is love. XVII. '' What think ye of Christ ?" This is a question of transcendent interest and importance. There is not in the range of Christian Theology a question of higher practical concern. What think ye of Christ ? Some questions have to do with our intellectual nature only ; for example, suppose you were to cross, the ocean and enter the city of London, a city of 30 miles Circuit, filled with magnificent parks and stately buildings and streets of trade and industry — suppose you were to enter Westminster Abbey ; and^ as you stood filled with awe and amazement, looking at the marble monimaents of poets, philosophers, states- men, divines, composing the congregation of England's illustrious dead, some one one were to ask you what you thought of that majestic edifice ? Your reply would be, '' Here is surely the triumph of true genius and art." But that would be a question pertaining: merely to your intellectual nature. Or, again, sup- 130 The Vital Question. 131 pose some one should ask you what you thought of the immortal works of Bunyan, John Milton, Shake- speare;, Walter Scott ; your answer would be ''These also are the true and substantial monuments of intellectual greatness." But the question with, which this letter begins is of a higher order. In discussing it let us try to see, first, what it does not imply, and then what it does imply. 1st. I would observe this question is not^ what do you think of Christ simply as a philanthropist^ wonderful as he was in going from village to village and from house to house doing good and ministering to the wants of the diseased, and the afflicted. It is^ not what do you think of Jesus as He sat bathed in tears beside the tomb of His dead friend Lazarus near that home so beautiful in affection — the home at Bethany. It is not what do you think of Him as He once passed near the gates of the city of Nain, and there met Him a funeral procession, a poor widow fol- lowing the remains of her only and beloved boy to the place of burial, when Jesus with an eye of compassion turning to that desolate woman and placing His hand on the bier uttered in the hearing of all the assembly that marvellous summons : "'Young man, I say unta thee, arise," and the dead did arise, with the warm pulses of life again beating through his frame, and a 132 The Vital Question. joy indescribable lighted up that mother's face as she grasped once more the hand of her dear one restored to life. It is not, what do you think of Christ, as He appears to you on the Mount of Transfiguration, when His countenance shone as the midday sun and His raiment was white as the light, and Peter exclaimed : " Lord, it is good for us to be here." It is not, what do you think of him as he walked once on the sea as if it had been a granite pavement, or, yet again, when He stood in the little ship with His alarmed disciples amid the storm-tossed billows of the Lake of Gennesareth, and said to those raging waters " Peace, be still," and the sea immediately became calm, the winds were hushed to rest. No, this is not what is specially implied in that searching inquiry : '' What think ye of Christ," though it is indeed a delightful task to trace our Redeemer through all these varied and wonderful scenes of His earthly life, and to behold, as we do in them all. His amazing tender- ness and compassion. The all-important enquiry w^hich we are now considering means much more than this. It is a question passing down from the head to the heart and affecting our spiritual nature. It means ''What think ye of Christ as your Be- deemer?^' What think ye of Christ Who endured The Vital Question, 133 the cross for you, Christ Who was scourged and nailed to the shameful tree for you, Christ Who was mocked^ buffeted, spit upon and put to death for you ; and hence 2d. We observe that this question implies the acknowledgement of Christ's Deity. Have you ever duly considered what Jesus Christ was ? Have you ever thought, this Jesus Who bled and suffered and died on the cross, who stooped to this unparalleled humiliation was none other than the Son of God, was^ He who hung yon lamps in heaven's dome, Who spake into being this globe on which we tread, and garnished it with trees and flowers, and filled it with living creatures ? No man who has carefully and hon- estly examined Holy Scripture can reach any other conclusion than this, viz. , that Jesus Christ was God^ ' 'God over all, blessed forever ;" not simply the greatest of prophets or the greatest of teachers or the most perfect of mankind, but a divine mediator. Read over the Sacred Record ; see how He claims His own equality with the Father, nay His unity with the Father, ''I, and My Father are one," ''he that hath seen Me hath seen the Father." I have no sympathy with some of those of the present day, who would throw discredit on the doctrine of Christ's Godhead, and who assert that He 134 The Vital Question. ^vas only a great teacher or prophet or religious rgenius, and taught pure and lofty morality. They say that it was unworthy of God to give up His Son to such unparalleled humiliation, that such an interposition is too wonderful and too strange to l)e believed. But notwithstanding these idle criti- cisms the whole Christian world now, as for nineteen centuries, glories in this gospel because none but God Himself in our nature could ever make an atone- ment that could save our guilty souls or render satis- faction for a world's transgressions. Upon any other hypothesis mankind would give up in despair the hope of salvation ; upon any other hypothesis, the Bible scheme of redemption is illogical and unmean- ing. Nothing short of a Divine surety and a Divine sacrifice could ever answer the ends to be accom- plished, vindicate the Divine law, and satisfy infinite justice. It must be salvation through the Cross of a Divine Saviour, God incarnate, or no salvation at all. Away then, from mind and heart, the thought that Jesus is only a greater Socrates or Plato. Of what pos- sible benefit can that be to a poor, lost, undone sinner. Give unto us our God on whom to fasten our hopes of salvation. To Him we will cling forever ; and when wre can no longer retain our consciousness, when we are torn away from our family and from the familiar The Vital Question. 135 scenes of earth, and an unseen hand pushes our bark across the Jordan of death, then in " Emmanuel, God with us/' will we put our trust, and upborne by His mighty and loving hand pass quietly over the troubled waters into the haven of rest. 3d. This question is preeminently a practical one, which should shape our everyday life and conduct. The great atonement which Christ made for your sins and mine, is not a bare isolated fact for us to receive or not just as we would some fact in history or science ; but, it is something to be applied to ourselves — some- thing to be acted upon — something to be lived up to. God has done so much for us, has given to us so abun- dantly of His love and His grace ; and have we on our part nothing to do ? we, no sacrifice to make ? we, no cross to bear ? Ah ! our own reason, our own best thoughts and impulses convince us to the contrary. God has done His part, we must do ours. He hath made us free moral agents, free to accept or reject the wondrous offer of salvation. It is a solemn and awakening thought that we may by our own indiffer- ence and neglect render this great work of human redemption of no benefit or avail to ourselves. During the last century there lived in one of the rural districts of England a faithful parish minister of the Church. One day he went, as was his custom. 136 The Vital Question, to a farmhouse to teach and catechize the children. He asked the master of the family if all were assem- bled : ''AH/' answered the farmer, ''except the little girl who attends to the cattle." " Call her," said the minister ; and he postponed the catechizing till she came in. Each one was questioned in turn until the little girl was asked: "Have you a soul?" "No !"" she replied, in a slow, serious tone. ^ "Have yon never had a soul?" asked the minister. "Yes," said the child. " What became of it ?" " One day,^^ said she, " lately, while attending the cattle, my soul felt sad and troubled as I thought of my sinfulness and of what Jesus has done for me ; I wept and prayed, and I gave up that soul and all its affections, to Jesus." This touching anecdote of a child well illustrates our subject, and it will be a happy day for us when we can each say with that simple, trusting child, " I have given my soul to Jesus." What think ye of Christ ? Depend upon it, it is a most searching, deep, vital question ; it probes the inmost recesses of our hearts, and upon the answer we give to it must depend our eternity. XVIII. While the Holy Scriptures contain much that is plain and easy to be comprehended concerning spe- cially our present needs and practical duties, it must be admitted that it also contains much that is mys- terious and incomprehensible. This is no ground whatever of objection to Divine revelation, but rather a proof of the truth and genuineness of the sacred volume. A revelation trom God which treats of the nature of the Divine Being and of the future life must necessarily treat of some questions which are beyond the grasp and comprehension of finite beings like ourselves. One of the greatest of English preachers has said, ^^Give me the majestic cloud, the oracular veil, the mighty shadows which recede a& we advance, filling the mind with amazement and forbidding us to approach and examine what they are. I wish to be defeated in every effort to under- stand God and futurity. I wish when I have climbed to the highest pinnacle to which human thought can attain to be compelled to confess that 1 have not reached the base of the everlasting hills."' ** For it doth not yet appear, what we shall be.'' 137 138 The Hidden Future. In that striking picture called the ^^ Voyage of Xife/' with which we are all familiar, the artist Tepresents a voyager setting out in his youth upon a broad and beautiful river which flows on amid lovely and enchanting scenes. As his bark glides smoothly along he beholds the green and attractive shores reflected in inimitable beauty and perfection in those still waters. Now he sees the distant moun- tain-tops rising one above another, draped with the fleecy cloud; and, now, his eye rests upon quiet val- leys reposing in all their loveliness in the shadows below. All is beautiful and enchanting now to the young voyager. But there are darker shades in the picture beyond. Far down that river on whose smooth surface there plays not a single ripple— oh ! how many a sharp rock, how many a foaming and dashing cataract, how many a dangerous whirlpool are in his way; and before he is aware of it he may 1)0 entangled in extreme perils, and his boat be liurled upon those which lurk in the cold black waters. Is there not here presented a true and life-like pict- ure of man's moral and spiritual history? The Christian sets out on the voyage to eternity with fair prospects before him, each object and scene painted by his youthful fancy in dazzling colors. But how soon the whole scene changes ! How many a dash- I The Hidden Future. 139 ing breaker of temptation, how many a tempest of affliction lies concealed beneath the surface of that river; and if by the aid of God's heavenly grace, the young voyager does escape spiritual shipwreck, and rises up bruised and saddened, how soon does he encounter another spiritual conflict and another sharp trial. Thus is it in spiritual things. A hidden and mysterious future lies before us. '' We know not what shall be on the morrow." 1. Let us endeavor to justify this plan of God — ^this liiding of the future. This arrangement of our heav- enly Father betokens His matchless wisdom as well as His love and mercy. It is a plan carefully adapted to our weak and finite nature ; and calculated to develop the heavenly graces of patience and faith. We should be thankful to the Almighty Father that He hides the hereafter and throws over future events a veil of secrecy. For, suppose for example, the mer- chant knew beforehand that at some precise, fixed unhappy day his btisiness would be involved in bank- ruptcy and ruin, how would that painful impression take away at once all zest and interest in it ? What a gloomy aspect would this prevision throw over all his employments ? If we knew beforehand the future, who would enter on the marriage-state, with the precise and infallible certainty that at some 140 The Hidden Future. definite day just such a death would enter his happy home and lay its icy touch on his beloved wife or his little ones, knowing all the while the day appointed in which he would behold the painful scene of those dear to him suffering by accident or sharp disease in agony and deadly pain ? How would such an impression unhinge and break up the fabric of human society. If, too, the future were made known, what room would there be for the exercise of trust and endurance and the strength of calm resignation ? It is just this impenetrable darkness of the future which prevents men from sinking down into discour- agement and despair. While hope paints the days to come with happy resting places, man rises up with new courage and pursues his favorite calling ; and sa it is with the Christian pilgrim. He does not faint nor fall by the way ; he looks forward to the future — ^the unclouded vision of God — the thrones and starry crowns of the righteous, upheld by faith and hope ; and he patiently perseveres to the end, adopt- ing as his motto : ** Onward ! for the glorious prize, Onward yet, Bright and clear before thine eyes In the homeward path way Ues; Rest is not beneath the skies, Onward yet. The Hidden Future, 141 Tarry not : around thy way Danger lies : oh ! fear to stay : Eouse then, Christian, watch and pray, Onward yet!'' 2. In regard to the future after death, and also in regard to the state of the redeemed in heaven, it is still true that the future is hidden. Oh ! how many a man has sat down^ — and of women^ many more — sat down beside the couch of a sick and dear friend, and beheld with most intense solicitude the dying out of life's taper ! You have watched the spirit about to depart as it plumed its flight to the realms of upper-day ; you have looked into the now cold and lifeless face, and has not your heart longed to know what could be the precise condition of that liberated spirit ? ''Oh/' you have said to yourself, ^'if my friend could only come back for a moment and tell me his experience. Where art thou ? Art thou holding blessed communion with spiritual and immortal intelligences in that wonder-realm whither thou hast gone ? Dost thou ever look back on those earthly scenes with which thou wast once familiar, and sympathize in the toils and struggles and trials of those thou didst leave still in this lower world ? What is the nature of that rest with which those who die in the Lord are blessed ?" These and such 142 The Hidden Future. like questions, how often how anxiously have they crossed our minds. But, no answer comes back from those pale cold lips. No answer, did I say ? Yes ! we have the words of the Apostle, which seem to roll back like distant music upon our listening hearts : ''Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be, but we know that when He shall appear we shall be like Him for we shall see Him as He is." We shall be like Him, like Christ; is not that enough ? Let us be content that the future is hidden from our sight and revealed but partially even to our faith, and let us persevere unto the end, if such deep and unutterable bliss shall be ours at the last. XIX. What a dreary and desolate scene would the world be without hope ! As a principle of our nature acting upon us in regard to matters pertaining to the present life, hope often exerts a most magical influ- ence over the mind. How it lifts the soul upward from the darkened scenes of earthly calamity to brighter worlds of its own creation decked with flowers and bright with smiling faces. How it draws pictures of ecstatic joy and paints gay visions of future bliss before the youthful imagination — visions, alas I which are often never realized. How it whispers of health to the sick man, of better and happier days to the downcast. How it breathes its sweet music into the ear of decrepid and frozen old age. Yes, earthly hope alone is a mighty principle ; and it is not possible for any earthly calamity to crush down utterly the human spirit so long as a single spark of hope remains to arouse and gladden it. Take an illustra- tion of the power of hope. Yonder within the huge massive stone walls of a prison is a prisoner's dark cell. In that cell is confined one of the most desper- 143 144 Hope. ate and hardened of criminals. There he is bound by chains to the hard floor, and seldom a ray of light ^'leams through the narrow grating of his window ! and vet hope is there as a white robed angel by that wretched man's cot. She keeps her watch fires iDurning. There he sits in his lonely cell, day after day and week after week, the prey of his own evil thoughts and haunted by the specters of his own guilty imagination. But, suppose you bring the power of hope actively to bear upon that wretched man. Suppose you succeed in convincing him that by some means the door of his prison will yet be flung open and his eyes be permitted to greet the cheerful light of day I How quickly would you dispel from that haggard face the look of gloom and light it up with smiles 1 Why, the bare mention of dehverance would then be enough to make that wretched man's heart leap with gladness. What cares he now, think you. for the gloom of his prison and the chains that T^ind him so long as Hope with her magic pencil paints that enrapturing vision of liberty on his dark prison wall? In the year 1663, Vienna, the capital of Austria, was besieged by a large army of the Turks, who now stood just before the gates. As soon as the approach of this hostile force was made known, the Emperor Hope. 145 fled from the city. What were the poor people within its walls to do ? Without a leader they were left in a state of sad fear and perplexity. The cry of distress arose, " What shall we do ?" At last a thought of hope came into their minds. '' The king of Poland, John Sobieski, he is our friend and will help us." A messenger was instantly sent entreating him to come to their rescue. But there was only one way for him to come, and that was a long distance over the great Northern mountains. It was a weary and anxious time ; for the siege began in July and lasted until some time in the following September. But these people never despaired. They still hoped on and hoped on ; and by and by, as they looked out upon the distant mountain tops they saw far away the brave Poles marching to their rescue. And they did rescue them, for that very day after a bloody and desperate battle Vienna was set free. Such is the power of earthly hope. But we propose now to speak of Christian hope, which is as much higher and grander in its character and results than earthly hope as eternity is more lasting than time. We will proceed to state some two or three grounds of the great superiority of Christian over worldly hope. And First. Christian hope has an unspeakably better object in view. 146 Hope. What are the objects of earthly hopa ? Every man has some favorite object of pursuit ; it may be fame, riches, honor ; but whatever it be, he cannot reach his prize without a hard struggle. He must contest his way in life against many obstacles, perhaps amid worldly disappointments, domestic trials, and well- nigh crushing adversities. But at length he is successful, and secures the object of his earthly ambition. Is he satisfied ? Are his golden dreams of happiness realized ? Is it not after all grasping a shadow ? You pass by a stately mansion, and through the half -drawn curtains you see the rich furniture and brilliant ornaments within ; in that dwelling a sumptuous table is spread with every luxury that wealth can procure ; the cheerful evening firelight flashes on costly vessels of gold and silver, and its inmates tread those halls which are covered with soft velvet carpets : " Oh ! how happy," says one, '^ must those favored persons be who live in such a splendid mansion." But wait a few years and now enter that house again. Where are now the gay and happy faces that once occupied those grand apart- ments ? The rich owner once had a wife and beautiful daughter ; she possessed every grace and accomplish- ment ; she was the idol of his heart, the pride and ornament of his home ; he thought of her when he Hope. 147 was building that splendid mansion ; she was even dearer to him than his bank-stock ; and he was fondly anticipating a day when she would grow up by his side as a noble vine to cheer and gladden his old age. But now, alas ! she is gone, and with grey locks, careworn looks and tottering limbs, he is going down to the narrow house appointed for all living. Such is the object and end of earthly hope. It weaves a bright future. It holds out a dazzling prize, which in the end changes to a bitter disappointment. ISow turn to the other side and see what are the objects of Christian hope. How vastly superior the latter to the former ! The Christian believer struggles on beset with temptations and diflftculties, but he gathers strength and courage as he goes forward facing life's trials. Why ? Because he has a most glorious object in view, his eye is directed to the mansions of the living God where " the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest." He endures as Saint Paul did, ^'seeing Him Who is invisible," and he ''hath respect unto the recom- pense of the reward." He can say with that same Apostle, ''we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle be dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.'' This is hope, sure and certain, which embraces within 148 Hope. its view the infinite and the immortal ; and surely it evidences the superiority of Christian over earthly hope. 2d. But another reason of this superiority is that Christian hope has a better basis to rest upon. Did you ever stand upon the surf -beaten shore and wait for the massive waves to roll in, threatening the sandy foundation on which you stood ? Did you ever v^ake up on some winter morning and see the earth sown with pearls, and every tree and bush, as it were, hung with sparkling diamonds, and then look out an hour or two after and behold all this magnificent scene dissipated by the sun's rays ? Does not this well repre- sent earthly hope's uncertainty ? Now it is not thus with Christian hope. " Our hope," says an eminent Divine, ' is not hung upon such an untwisted thread as : ^I imagine so,' 'it is very probable,' 'you may expect so-and-so,' but the strong rope of our fastened anchor is the oath and promise of Him Who is eternal verity. " ' ' Wherein God," says the Apostle, ' ' willing more abundantly to show unto the heirs of promise the immutability of His counsel, confirmed it by an oath ; that by two immutable things in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us in the Gospel ; which hope we Hope, 149 have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stead- fast." Can you imagine any stronger basis than this on which Christian hope rests ? This is the immova- ble rock on which the Christian's hope is founded, the sure word and promise of Almighty God ; a rock on which the believer can stand secure, and against which the waves of doubt and despair dash in vain. It stands *' As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread. Eternal sunshine settles on its head.*' 3d. Christian hope is vastly superior to worldly hope in the results to which it leads. I would not be understood to decry earthly hope. It is a gift and blessing for which we ought to be thankful to God. " It is," says a writer " one of those beautiful frag- ments of statuary left undestroyed by sin, and found among the ruins of man's fallen temple, and it only shows how fair and glorious must have been the original structure when it came from the hands of the great Architect." It is one of the noblest relics of the fall. God be thanked that it continues still to live on in this dark world. It is the parent of many noble deeds and heroic struggles. But we must not forget that earthly hope expires at the grave. 150 Hope. What can it do for us in our last hour ? Shall it bring its allurements and fascination and try to turn our heart away from that sadness ? Alas ! "We have been misled too long by it to be deceived then. The soul turns away from the objects of earthly hope, that once dazzled and entrapped it in the days of health, when the world wa.s gay and a thousand lights were blazing ; and it reaches forth toward Christian hope, which is born of true faith, inspired by the Holy Spirit, and built upon the cross of Christ. Such a hope alone can sustain us and make for our souls a safe passage to the land of blessedness and rest. Oh! how many thousands on the earth and what countless multitudes in Paradise have set their seal to the truth of these words of Holy Scripture: '' The hope of the righteous shall be glad- ness ;'^ '' blessed is the man whose hope the Lord is.'' XX. The famous banquet of Belshazzar marked the downfall of the ancient and mighty city of Babylon, centre of that great empire that once ruled the world. That renowned city had around it a circuit of walls fifty miles in length and three hundred feet high. It had two hundred and fifty towers and one hundred and forty gates of brass which bade defiance to the battering ram and all other enginery of war. Besides, it had its hanging garden suspended nearly four hundred feet in the air— loaded with shrubs and waving trees; and numerous sparkling fountains leaped from beneath the fioral arches. The haughty monarch, Belshazzar, as he walked the balcony of his palace, looked out upon a scene of grandeur. The massive structures of art lay piled one above another and the brilliant sunshine was refiected back from the silver waters of the Euphrates. It is night. The shadows of evening are gathering over the magnificent city. The air is soft and clear, 151 152 Belshazzar's Feast. while crowds of gaily dressed men and women are hurrying through those lighted streets, some pressing into theaters, some into galleries of art, while others still are moving on toward the palace gates. What is appearing there? The king has prepared a royal feast in honor of his own imperial sway and great- ness. Thousands are moving on toward the scene of the royal banquet. Look at the splendid banquet - room! How gorgeous! Column after column, arch above arch, long glittering corridors. See the statues of great men looking down from their pedestals; see the costly hangings, the gay garlands, the rich orna- ments, all combining to form such a dazzling scene as the earth never saw before. And now comes in the king himself, with a thousand of his lords. The hall is lighted with golden candlesticks. The table is spread with every conceivable luxury. Princes and nobles are there ; women dressed with the most costly apparel and bedecked with the rarest jewels grace the scene. When all are seated, the command goes forth, ''Fill up the golden goblets ; let the rich perfume rise thickly from the censers; raise the loud and merry laugh and let enrapturing bursts of music be heard through all the place." From thousands of lips of riotous guests there proceeds the cry, ''Oh! thou mighty potentate, live forever!" The feast Belshazzar's Feast. 155 is at its height. Wilder and still wilder grows the tumult; louder and still louder ring the shouts of laughter, insane mirth and drunken song. Then suddenly there is a pause in that high revelry, sud- denly that company of feasters and guests cease their mirth. The startled monarch Belshazzar turns pale, and the untasted goblet falls from his lips. The women stand aghast, or fall fainting upon the marble floor. What is the cause of this? Is it a ghostly visitant that has come to terrify the haughty mon- arch and his careless friends? No, there is a myster- ious hand-writing on the wall. What is it? The terrified and guilty monarch calls for Daniel the prophet, to come in and interpret the ominous writ- ing. Daniel obeys the summons. His inspired vision scans the future, and he foretells the doom of that proud and wicked city, under the fearful judge- ment of a just God, whose laws the king had set at defiance. The sentence was written in letters of fire on the walls of the banquet-room, ''Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin." ^'Thou art weighed in the bal- ances, and art found wanting." We will now close the doors of that grand palace; we will not detail the scene of that terrible night's slaughter, nor picture the gorgeous apartment so lately filled with merry guests, now filled with the bodies- 154 Belshazzar^s Feast. of the slain, the king himself among them. Let us draw a veil over such a terrible scene, and yet try to gather a few lessons from it. 1st. It teaches that irreligion, impiety and infidelity will surely work a nation's downfall. When a peo- ple cast off the fear of Almighty God, set at defiance His righteous law, and become corrupt, profligate and sensual, not recognizing a Supreme Being or their responsibility to Him, but desecrating His Sabbaths; or when they become worshippers of false Gods, and not only so, but cast contempt and ridi- cule upon the God of their forefathers, then their downfall is near. Belshazzar was not ignorant. He had opportuni- ties of knowing God's will. He had seen the awful judgement of heaven which befell Nebuchadnezzar hefore him, for his idolatry and impiety; and yet, in .spite of the laws of God and the dictates of conscience, irreverently and blasphemously he sets religion aside. Let any nation do this; let any nation devote itself to pride and mammon and vanity, and it needs not now a prophet to predict that nation's doom, for all his- tory teaches it. The city m.ay seem impregnable, and fitted to defy all human assaults. It may have tried soldiers, sagacious legislators, prosperous trades, far-reaching commerce; but if it tramples on the Belshazzar's Feast, 155 divine law and seeks earthly good, earthly aggran- dizement only, that nation will fall, and over its appall- ing ruin will be written, as in letters of fire: " Thou are weighed in the balances, and art found wanting." 2d. We may learn another lesson from this narra- tive, viz: that it is the duty of God's ministers boldly to expose and rebuke sin and worldliness. At that critical moment when the feast had reached its high- est splendor and all hearts were aglow — and, then, shortly after, when a thrill of horror rushed through €very soul, and when the king himself became alarmed, so that in the language of the Sacred Word, *^'his countenance was changed, and his thoughts troubled him; the joints of his loins were loosed, and his knees smote the one against the other," he Bends for the astrologers and asks them to explain the meaning of the inscription on the wall. But when they could not explain it, blank terror seized the mind of the king and the minds of his courtiers. What is now to be done? Presently a woman, calm, dignified, resolute, suggests the person who shall solve the difficulty — Daniel the prophet, a man gifted by God with a superhuman wisdom. The king sends for him, and Daniel comes in, and with a boldness and a decision worthy of his high position, unfolds before the trembling monarch his crimes. It 156 Belshazzar's Feast. would have been far pleasanter to have extolled the king and joined the multitudes in their vain adula- tion. But Daniel knew that he had a duty to dis- charge, and that such a course would give him only a momentary popularity, and at the cost of compro- mising his principles and offending his conscience. So it is often the duty of Christ's ministers to denounce sin and rebuke iniquity. Let them not fear, but rather imitate the example of Daniel. Daniel did not thrust himself unbidden into the palace of Belshazzar; he came when bidden, and did his duty as a servant and prophet of the Most High. He had a firm trust in God, and God was his protection and reward. XXI, We have often noticed some thick green hedge enclosing, it may be, a lawn, a garden, a dwelling, and forming a compact wall of protection and beauty. As that hedge surrounds and protects the fruits and flowers of the garden and adds to its loveliness, so does God surround each one of us with various moral barriers and restraints to protect us from harm and danger, and make our life righteous; and these may not inappropriately be termed '^the Divine hedges." Let us proceed in this brief letter to enumerate some of them : 1st. There is the hedge of conscience. This has been well termed God's viceroy over the realm of the human spirit. It always registers a faithful verdict upon every action of our lives. It is a monitor within reach of us which asserts its right to over- rule taste, caprice, interest. It commends the good and warns us of the evil. Whoever swerves from the path of duty or follows the dictates of his own 157 158 Divine Hedges. evil passions and desires, and ventures for the sake of ease and sinful indulgence to walk in ways whicK end in ruin and perdition, whoever does this does it, you may rest assured, against loud and constant accusations from within. He may smother this voice for a time, may disregard the laws of God, and go in the path of sin ; but let him not think that con- science will always sleep. No. This Divine moni^ tor within will always awake to fulfill its office. It will pierce through the thick walls of his fancied security, and in tones which shall startle and alarm and rebuke him for his misdoing and folly. Look for example at the case of the prodigal son. When far away in that distant land, in a state of poverty and want, his splendid apparel exchanged for squalid rags, instead of the rich dainties of his father's house eating the husks which the swine ate, as his thoughts went back to the old happy scenes^ of home, how did conscience smite him with its loud and unsparing accusations ! With what thorns did it fill every pillow where he would fain rest his weary head, until he resolved to arise and go to his father, confess his sin and plead for forgiveness ! Or, look at the case of Joseph's brethren. When they from love of gain and envy sold that lovely boy into the hands of the Ishmaelites, and took back the Divine Hedges. 159 coat of many colors to their father, covered with stains of blood, and the old man was bowed down with grief over the sad fate of the darling of his. heart, was conscience asleep, think you, in the breasts of those cruel men ? They thought, doubt- less, this was an end of the matter. But it was not so. During all the successive steps of that wonderful boy's history, from the day when he left his father's tents, until he was finally invested with the chief power in Egypt, next to the King, con- science was busy rebuking those men ; and when they came down to buy corn for their famished households, and Joseph, then raised to such great dignity, made himself known to them, saying : ^^I am Joseph; doth my father yet live?" — words which could not have been less astonishing to them than if the earth itself had opened beneath their feet — Oh ! then how must conscience have smitten them, filled their hearts with shame and remorse, and painted their guilt before them ! We cannot but see what a powerful hedge, what a mighty wall of protection the Almighty has placed around our pathway in this one attribute of conscience. 2d. Another is those emotions of pleasure which follow upright conduct and deeds of charity. Virtue and goodness are in their nature joy-pro- 160 Divine Hedges. ducing. Did any one ever hear of a man who had done a good or benevolent deed repenting of it ? Sup- pose, for instance, you were standing upon the deck of a vessel at sea, and there stood by your side a mother with her bright and beautiful boy in her arms, and she were by unhappy accident to drop that boy into the water, and you instantly, with a noble disre- gard of self, plunge over the ship's side and rescue the child from a watery grave and restore it to its mothers arms, would you not reap a rich reward, not only in the overflowing gratitude of that mother, but also in the f eehngs of your own heart ? There is no good action without its harvest of rejoicing in the doers own soul. You sit down with a child in a Sunday-school, and endeavor to impress upon its young mind the truths of our holy rehgion, to teach that young susceptible heart the love of Jesus, the beauty of holiness, the happiness of heaven; and you are more than paid for the labor in the consciousness of good attempted, if not also of great good done. And so, of all righteous- ness and charity in our lives. 3d. Another '• Divine hedge" is to be found in the Church of God, What can be more admirably fitted to train men in the way of holiness and keep them from the evil that is in the world than this ? The Divine Hedges. 161 Sunday services and devotions, the sermons preached, the prayers offered, the hymns sung, the Sacraments received — what a mighty influence do these exert upon us ? Phihp Henry said, of a well-spent Sab- bath : ^^If this be not the way to heaven, I know not what is." It is by the Church that the infant is brought into the family of God through holy baptism. It is here that he receives his early religious training, and that pi ecious seed is sown in the young heart which will ri n into a future glorious harvest. It is here that he omes to renew in confirmation the baptismal vow. 01 : how many tender, solemn, and powerful associ- ations centre around the Church of God ! how many sweet, never-dying memories of Sunday privileges centre here ! Coleridge once remarked : ^^ I feel as if God, by giving us the Sabbath, has given us fifty-two springs of spiritual life and comfort in every year." "When we think of the mighty influence for good which the Church exerts, how it guards and protects the spiritual character of its members from childhood to old age, presides at the birth, the bridal, the burial, we can but look upon it as one of the strong hedges which God has thrown around us to guard us from evil and conduct us at last to our heavenly home. 162 Divine Hedges, 4th. Still another hedge placed about us bv a Divine hand — adversity, affliction, trial. Whence come afflictions? God's Word assures us that thev do not spring from the ground — that they are part of the necessary discipline ^hich is to fit us for another and higher state of being. Trials are, indeed, hard to bear. It is no easy thing to see the sweet child of one's love pine away and die. It would be much more pleasant to us to enjoy unin- terrupted ease and prosperity, and gHde along smoothly upon the current of life, lulled by the soft music of its waters. But God Who knows better than we. puts thorns and briers into our present downy nest of prosperity, lest we sleep the sleep of spiritual death. Afflictions have a wise end in view. Even the heathen, Bion, could say, '"It is a great misfor- tune not to endure misfortune." Anaxagoras. when his house was in ruin and his estate wasted, exclaimed ^' If they had not perished. I should have perished." 5th. Another hedge is to be found in the influences of God's blessed Sjjirif. He acts upon our hearts and inclines us to that which is good. He takes of the things of Christ and shows them unto us. The office of the Spirit is to • ' convince the world, of sin, of righteousness and of judgement." He is ever draw- Divine Hedges. 163 ing us unto the fountain of living waters, ever lead- ing us onward and upward. Our sanctification is His gift. If we are moved to righteous living it is His inspiration. If we weary not in well doing it is His strength. Such are some of the wonderful hedges which God hath placed around our path to protect us from evil and bring us to happiness and peace. And if this be true, it seems to enforce the profound doctrine that ^^God is love.'' His tender mercy is over all His works. He willeth not the death of a sinner, but rather that he should be con- verted and live. Surely our wisdom is to respect these Divine barriers and to live within them. Obey the dictates of that inward monitor and guide, the con- science. Know by happy experience the pure enjoy- ment which accompanies upright conduct and loving deeds. Prize the Church of God, its sweet Sabbath privileges, its praises and prayers. Regard our afflic- tions not as mere accidents and mischances, but, as so many golden links in the chain of God's love, designed to lift us from this present scene of suffer- ing and sorrow to the untold joys and splendor of the New Jerusalem. To that city through God's abounding mercy and grace may we at length come! There, not hedges any longer but freedom in the 164 Divine Hedges, truth and in holy obedient love forevermore. Oh heavenly Jerusalem! *' Thy gardens and thy goodly walks Continually are green, "Where grow such sweet and pleasant flowers As nowhere else are seen, night through thy streets, with pleasing sound, The living waters flow. And on the banks on either side, The trees of life do grow." XXII. The transfiguration of Christ is one of the most striking and marvellous events of His life upon the earth. It is supposed by Biblical scholars to have taken place on Mount Tabor in Galilee, a lofty sum- mit, six miles east of Nazareth. From this bold ele- vation is visible the Jordan, winding like a silver thread through the valley below ; far away in the north-west, you behold the shining waters of the Mediterranean. On the east, you see the quiet sleep- ing Lake of Gennesaret ; and, in the distance, Hermon with its snowy peak, and Carmel with its ever-green pine and venerable oak. This was the place of our Blessed Lord's transfiguration. Here it was that there occured that most astonishing and glorious scene, the like to which earth had never before witnessed. Let us for a moment go back in time, and with the aid of the light to be gathered from the Scripture narrative, let us endeavor to describe this wondrous event. It is near the dusk of evening, and a little company consisting of four persons may be seen leaving their quiet homes and 165 166 The Transfiguration. taking their way toward that mountain of which we have just spoken. One of them is Jesus the Divine Saviour. Another is Peter, the impulsive and intrepid leader of the twelve; a third is James the Apostle ; and the fourth John, the beloved disciple, the Lord's most constant and endeared companion. Onward this little band press their way toward the favored mountain which was so soon to be crowned with its grand scenes and wondrous revelations. As they climb up the steep, rugged pathway, the dim twi- light deepens into denser darkness ; the lights in the distant city grow dim, and in the still evening no sound is heard but the wind as it stirs the thick foliage, or the rivulet of the wilderness as it dashes along over the rocks. The journey was a laborious one ere these travelers gained the desired summit. Nearly four hundred years ago the immortal Raphael after long care and industry completed his grand picture of the Transfiguration. It was placed in St. Peter's, Rome, and to this day retains its wonderful and impressive beauty. It is said that every figure, every expression and look, every color and shade is as perfect and life-like as when drawn by the artist's hand ; and if the painting so thrills the astonished beholder what, we may well ask, must have been the event itself ? The Transfiguration. 167 Imagine if you can, the scene: The Son of Mary; the Carpenter of Nazareth; the Master Who had journeyed with His disciples through Judea and Gal- ilee, and submitted Himself to continual hardships and privations — this same Jesus is now changed before their eyes into a Form of unearthly brightness. Around those rough worn garments, woven without a seam, there gathers a strange radiance, while His countenance gleams with celestial splendor. As the evangelist says, ^^His face shone as the sun, and His garments became white as the light;" and St. Mark adds: ''Such as no fuller on earth can white them." It would seem as if the Saviour designed to give us here a manifestation of the heavenly glory, on this side of the border line of the future world. Then appear two resplendent beings from the invisi- ble realm, Moses and Elias, talking with Jesus. The disciples gaze in wonder and great fear, and Peter cries out " Lord, it is good for us to be here, and let us make here three tabernacles; one for Thee, and one for Moses and one for Elias;" and then we are told, a bright luminous cloud overshadowed them and a voice proceeded out of the cloud saying: " This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye Him!" Overcome by this supernatural vision the disciples fall prostrate on the ground, but are soon 168 The Transfiguration, brought back again to consciousness by the restoring hand and voice of Jesus. What then follows? "We are told that ^'they saw no man but Jesus only." The momentary splendor of Mount Tabor, Moses and Elias in their shining vestments, the cloud with its unearthly effulgence — these have faded away. But, it is not a matter of surprise that all these lesser accompaniments of that wondrous scene should be utterly lost in the presence of Jesus. Let us now briefly consider the thought here suggested, that Jesus is the one supreme object which shines forth and surpasses all others ; the marvel of marvels. 1st. Look at Him in iKs &zW/i. It is true,f/iere,that we can see none but Jesus only. How wonderful His advent into our world — a helpless infant ! His cradle a manger I His birthplace a stable ! His parents, the humble virgin and the carpenter Joseph 1 Look, the heavens are lighted up with a dazzling glory ! a new born star gleams nightly in Judea's sky! A host of angels descend from heaven to earth and fill the air with their entrancing melody I Who is this helpless infant ? It is God's own eternal Son. He lived ages before the world was made. '' The King of Kings," ^^The Wonderful," ^^ Counsellor," '^the Mighty God," ^^the Everlasting Father," ^^the The Transfiguration, 169 Prince of Peace." Was there ever such a child ? Who is not astonished at the marvel of His birth ? Who i& not ready to confess " we see none but Jesus only.'' 2d. Look at His boyhood. Let us go into the humble abode of the carpenter. In all probability it was a very plain dwelling with little furniture, no show or ornament; doubtless a wooden chest was there, with tools. And here lived the youthful Jesus, kind and dutiful to His parents, winning by His gentle temper and holy walk the esteem and love of all who knew Him. Who is that gentle lovely boy ? He is the Son of God. He has a higher, nobler descent than that of Mary. He had being before Mary was born — before the world began, or time. See him when, twelve years old. He goes up to the temple at Jerusalem, and sits among those learned Rabbis, silencing their wise interpretations- by His amazing wisdom. Was there ever such a marvellous boy, possessed of an understanding which confounded those old Jewish Doctors, an understanding deeper than that of Plato or Soc- rates? Was there ever such a child, in all history, as this? '^Holj, harmless, undefiled and separate from sinners," His youth without a fault or a stain, beginning His existence not as other children who inherit the fallen nature of their parents, but starting 170 • The Transjiguration. into life pure and innocent, and like tlie sun, advanc- ing cloudless and bright to its noon. 3d. Then again: Look at Jesus, as a minister and public teacher, holding His hearers spell-bound by His doctrine, so that all the people were very atten- tive to hear Him, listening to the lessons of heavenly truth that fell from His lips, in the Temple, in places of pubhc resort, by the vray. and on the moun- tain side. To compare Jesus as a teacher with others, is as absurd as it is irreverent. It is hke com- paring the glories of the noonday sun with the pale glimmer of marsh-light. ^Vho but Jesus would have dared to utter such words as these : "I am the light of the world:** "I and my Father are one:** "I, if I be hfted up, will draw all men unto me"? For a mere man to make such declarations would be noth- ing short of blasphemy: and yet, the judgment of the world, for eighteen centuries past, has not been able to discover in them the slightest egotism. Moreover, follow Jesus to the place of His death, and who ever died as Jesus died, amid supernatural darkness, the tliroes of an earthquake, the temple's veil rent asunder, and the graves of many saints opened, from which the awakened sleepers arose and came into the city after His resurrection I Think, also, of His resurrection: when, though placed The Transfiguration. 171 in a tomb sealed up, and guarded well by Roman soldiers, yet an angel descends and rolls back the stone from the mouth of the sepulchre; and Jesus, T^y His own might, comes forth a triumphant King and Conqueror, thus securing to man the glorious Tiope of a resurrection. Once more: Consider Him as He ascends up to ^' the glory which He had with the Father before the world was," exalted high above angels and archangels, cherubim and sera- phim, worshipped by all the heavenly hosts — who is there that can be compared with Jesus ? Who, as Tiis eye gazes round on the wondrous vision of Tieaven, as he beholds the assembly of the glorified, v^ill not first, and above all, fall down and worship Jesus ? It will not be the glorious walls, and the sapphire throne, the gates of pearl, the golden streets, and the crystal river which will attract and fix the attention of the saved and fill his thoughts*, but Jesus, our Lord. He is the beatific vision. As it was with the disciples of old, so will it be with us who attain to that heavenly land; we shall ^'see none but Jesus only," with the Father and the Holy Ghost, one God, for ever and ever. XXIII. There is no day so memorable in the Church cal- endar as the festival of Easter. I know not a more befitting theme with which to occupy at this time the attention of the readers of your Magazine than those words addressed by the angels to the devout women who came to visit Jesus' sepulchre: ''Come see the place where the Lord lay/' And 1st. We may regard this as an invitation to visit the tomb of Jesus. How can I invite you to a spot more interesting and more sacred than this — the tomb of Jesus. What stirring historical associations and memories of the past cluster around it ! During the whole of what are called ''the Middle Ages '' the tomb of Jesus was the great central-point of interest and attraction. Myriads at that time, of the young and the old, the wise and the ignorant, the king and the serf, princes and warriors from the countries of Europe and Asia, many of them roused by the preaching of Peter the Hermit — all these pressed forward toward that sacred spot animated by one and the same purpose of recovering it from the hands of unbelievers. That famous battle-cry of 172 Easter. 173 the past has ceased, but the tomb of Jesus has lost none of its interest. It is still the bright goal toward which countless pilgrim feet have pressed and are still pressing from every land and every clime ; and around which innumerable hearts have throbbed with sacred emotion, as being the place once consecrated by Jesus' form ; into which Joseph and Mcodemus once 'bore Jesus' crucified body; where that body reposed over the Sabbath ; where it awoke to life, and into which the angels and the Marys and the amazed disciples entered on that first Easter morn. In extending to you this invitation, ^^ Come see the place where the Lord lay," I do not ask you to visit the precise spot where the Saviour was buried and arose, for I do not know that this is settled beyond a doubt. It is not an essential thing, and therefore it is hardly worth while to enter into those controver- sies which have been carried on by learned writers in reference to the exact locality of Jesus' tomb. What is now called the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, where the marble floors are worn by numberless visitors, where bright lamps and costly incense are kept burning, may or may not be upon the place where that sepulchre was. It matters not. It was once known. To whom ? Mary knew it. She who had been once such a 174 Easter. notorious sinner, and who had experienced the sweet- ness of her Saviour's forgiving love; who washed his feet with tears, and wiped them with the soft tresses of her hair; who hastened forth at early dawn on that memorable Easter morning, with ten- der affection, to visit the sepulchre, and who when she arrived there beheld the astonishing scene — the huge stone rolled away, the armed sentinels fallen on their faces, and the angels clad in white robes sitting there! Yes, Maryknew where Jesus' tomb was. Joseph of Arimathea, he also knew. He who had secretly loved Jesus; who was a member of the Jewish Sanhedrim, and opposed in vain their action in condemning the Saviour; who went and begged the body of Jesus, and in company with Nicodemus, bore it sadly and silently to his own new tomb in a gar- den, thus preventing the Saviour's body from being buried with those of malefactors in the potter's field; by which tender act of Christian love, his name and memory will ever be fragrant in the Church on earth — he knew where Jesus' tomb was. Who else knew it? Joanna, Salome, Mary the mother of James. With hearts heavy with grief, these devout women, the faithful followers of Jesus, came early to the sepulchre, bearing sweet spices to embalm His body. The thought now uppermost in their minds Easter. 175 was, ''Who shall roll away for us the stone from the sepulchre?" What was their surprise when they found it already rolled away, and a white-robed angel^, with a countenance that out-flashed the lightning-, sitting upon it! Startled at the scene, they irmne- diately conjecture that Jesus' enemies must have been there and taken away the body. So, one of them runs to give the alarm, while the others tarry behind. Then it was that the angel turns to them and says, as if to quiet their fears: ''Be not affrighted. Ye seek Jesus of ISTazareth Who was crucified. He is not here; He is risen. Come see the place where the Lord lay." We may mention one or two more who also knew where Jesus' tomb was. One was Peter, impulsive and headlong in his disposition; sometimes guilty of moral weakness, denying his Lord and soon after repenting bitterly of his conduct. With characteristic impetuosity he runs to the sepulchre, enters it, and takes careful note of what he saw. And there was one more who knew where our Lord's tomb was — Mary, His mother. With what a bleeding heart she must have stood by the cross and listened to the last accents of His dying affection, "Woman, behold thy son!" and with what mingled awe and rejoicing must she have heard the glorious tidings of her Son's resurrection! But 176 Easter. 2d. Our subject invites us not only to consider the locality of Jesus' sepulchre but also to consider it as an open, empty sepulchre, as the place where the Lord lay. He was its prisoner once, but its prisoner for only three days. Let us go back for a moment and think of those scenes which followed the cruci- fixion. The excitement attending it has passed. The guilty participators in that tragedy have retired to their homes. There is a universal quietude since Jesus was borne by faithful loving hands to His burial in the garden of Joseph. It is now the dark of evening. The night shades are deepening, and the holy city sinks to its repose. You hear nothing but the gentle sighing of the winds as they sweep through the olive trees, or the clanking of the armor or weapons of the guards as they pass to and fro beside the tomb. Morning comes and a long day passes by. Jesus' enemies and murderers now feel confident that all His pretensions have come to a final end ; that the hopes of His followers are now forever blasted, and that the little faithful band who have forsaken home and friends and endured suffer- ings and privations for Jesus' sake will henceforth only be objects of the world's pity and scorn ! But night again enshrouds the earth. The bright stars twinkle gently in the sky. The hum of the Easter. 177 "busy populace has died away, and nature moves on quietly and peacefully toward the coming morn, as though Jesus was truly and hopelessly dead. Dead! Is he dead ? Listen ! What sounds are those that we hear breaking the stillness of the hour ? An earthquake upheaves the ground. The rocks are rending. The sealed sepulchre is flung open. The hour is come ! The angel descends and rolls back the stone. At his presence the guards tremble and fall prostrate as dead men. Jesus awakes from His death-sleep — awakes by His own Divine energy and comes forth from His grave, victor of death I Yes! for the first time in the history of the world the dead hath had power- to live again ! Here is One Who hath conquered the conqueror of all kings and mighty ones ! Here is One Who hath broken open the prison-doors, and made Himself free from death's thraldom, and Who will also set His people free. We can easily imagine, then, how comforting and cheering must the words have been to those affrighted, sorrowing women: ^^Fear not, for I know that ye seek Jesus Which was crucified. He is not here, for He is risen, as He said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay." It was the same as if he had said, ''Be not troubled or disquieted at the scenes you behold. Cast aside your fears and 178 Easter. doubts and ' see the place where the Lord lay/ See ! it is an open tomb — a deserted grave." What those women needed most of all, and what we all desire supremely, is to be assured of the reality of Christ's resurrection. One look at the open, deserted tomb of Jesus is worth more than the thousand vague guessings of philosophy or dim teachings of natural religion. ''Come, see the place where the Lord lay." That place was a grave. Jesus hath lain there ; so must we. We cannot shut death out of view, if we would. We must all die and be laid, as our Lord was, in the cold and silent grave. But is that all ? Does our being end in that ? No. Jesus' open tomb proclaims that there is a resurrection for the body, and for the soul an immortality ; that sin and death are not the supreme powers, but tyrants for a time only. Christ hath broken their dominion; and every true believer in Him can now say of the grave : * Grave, the guardian of our dust ! Grave, the treasury of the skies ! Every atom of thy trust Rests m hope again to rise. Hark ! the judgment trumpet calls : Soul, rebuild thy house of clay, ImmortaUty thy walls, And eternity thy day.'* Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: April 2006 PreservationTechnologies ' A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-2111