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MEMOIR
OF
SAMUEL JOSEPH MAY.
B O STON:
ROBERTS BROTHERS.
I873.




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by
ROBERTS BROTHERS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
CAMBRIDGE:
PRESS OF JOHN WILSON AND SON.




THIS BRIEF
LIFE OF SAMUEL JOSEPH MAY
3f1i eIticatet
To the memory of his father, JOSEPH MAY, the faithful guide of his childhood;
to JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND, HENRY WARE, NOAH WORCESTER,
and WILLIAM   ELLERY CHANNING, the guides of his
youth and early manhood;
AND
To all those, living or departed, who aided in or sympathized with his devoted
labors in the cause of liberty, peace, temperance, education, and
the advancement of the Gospel of JESUS CHRIST.








PREFACE.
IN July, 1871, Mr. May's family asked GEORGE
B. EMERSON, SAMUEL MAY, and THOMAS J.
MUMFORD to attend to the preparation of a suitable Memoir; and this committee intrusted the
editing of the work to its youngest member.
A considerable portion of the volume consists
of a partial autobiography. To this is added some
extracts from a diary. The succeeding chapters
have been furnished by members of the committee,
assisted by many kind friends, including Messrs.
C. D. B. Mills, Joseph A. Allen, William  Lloyd
Garrison, A. Bronson Alcott, W. P. Tilden, G. W.
Hosmer, Edgar Buckingham, T. W. Higginson,
and Joseph May.
The story of Mr. May's antislavery career is
now presented in a condensed form, because it
was given to the public some years ago in his
"Recollections of the.Antislavery Conflict."
The chief purpose of the compilers of this book
has been to impart such a truthful impression of
its subject's character as shall make young men
see the beauty and feel the power of a noble
life.








CONTENTS.
CHAPTER                                       PAGE
I.  CHILDHOOD..............   1
II. CHILDHOOD CONCLUDED......... 13
III. SCHOOL DAYS.............                22
IV. COLLEGE LIFE.............                29
V. PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY...... 42
VI. HORSEBACK JOURNEY TO WHITE MOUNTAINS. 60
VII. BEGINS TO PREACH, AND TAKES A SOUTHERN
JOURNEY..............   69
VIII. BROOKLYN, CONN......... 76
IX. BROOKLYN, CONN., CONCLUDED....... 105
X. FROM THE DIARY.......... 129
XI. ANTISLAVERY.......... 138
XII. SOUTH SCITUATE, 1836-1842........ 163
XIII. PRINCIPAL OF THE STATE NORMAL SCHOOL AT
LEXINGTON...........  171
XIV. MINISTRY AT SYRACUSE......... 183
XV. 1859, EUROPE........... 196
XVI. ANTISLAVERY........... 217
XVII. SANITARY COMMISSION, AND SOLDIERS' AND
FREEDMEN'S RELIEF........ 226
XVIII. CHARACTERISTICS............. 231'XIX. PERSONAL TRAITS AND HOME LIFE.....      260
XX. CLOSING YEARS............. 281
XXI. DEATH AND BURIAL........... 291








SKETCH
OF THE
LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
CHAPTER I.
CHILDHOOD.
ANCESTORS. -DEATH OF HIS BROTHER EDWARD.-HEAVENLY
VISIONS.-A   COLORED PLAYMATE.-A      KIND COLORED
WOMAN.
I WAS born in Boston, Massachusetts, on the twelfth
day of September, 1797.
My father was Joseph —widely known as Col.
Joseph - May, who was the son of Samuel May of Boston, by his second wife Abigail Williams of Roxbury.'
1 Joseph May was born in Boston, 1760, and died there, 1841, at
the age of eighty-one. In his youth, the family were members of the
Hollis Street Church and Society; but, owing to dissatisfaction
with the ministry of Dr. Mather Byles,- or, more likely, with his
political attitude, -they ceased attendance there for a season, and
joined themselves to the Old South congregation, where Joseph,
who to his latest day was a good singer and especially fond of
sacred music, sang in the choir at the early age of twelve years.
When the Old South people were driven from their house of
worship by the British troops stationed in Boston, they met,
for about five years, at King's Chapel, the use of which was
granted to them. On their return to their own house in 1783, Mr.
May, then in his twenty-third year, preferred to remain at the
Chapel, of which church he continued an active and devoted mem1                       A




2             LIFE OF SAMUEL.T. MAY.
My mother was Dorothy Sewall, daughter of Samuel
Sewall of Boston, by his wife Elizabeth Quincy, niece
ber and officer (one of the wardens) during his life. In 1785 he
was one of the twenty who voted tp make those alterations in the
Liturgy which separated King's Chapel from the Trinitarian
communion and from the Episcopal Church; and in 1787 he was
one of the small but resolved congregation who ordained Dr. James
Freeman by their own authority to be their minister, -a relation
which continued upwards of forty years with uninterrupted respect
and benefit.*  His later pastor, Dr. Greenwood, and his life-long
associate and friend, William Minot, Esq., have both spoken in
published notices of his character and worth. " He considered it,"
they say, "most unworthy of a rational and moral being to seek
after riches as the chief good.... His integrity has never been
questioned. Important trusts were confided to him, and held until
advancing age warned him to resign them.... He might be traced
through every quarter of the city by the footprints of his benefactions.... His piety was practical, his religion was life-religion.
His belief in the sure mercies of God and promises of the Saviour
was as firm and deeply rooted as the mountains. His faith in a
future and better life was as sight. It was not his lot to influence
the destinies of whole communities; but, in'the. duties of a peacemaker, in reforming guilt, in relieving suffering, in protecting the
orphan, and in raising weakness from despondency, he was actively
engaged during his whole life... He proved that wealth and
fashion are not essential to the highest respectability; and his
friends will agree that they have rarely known his superior in virtue or wisdom." He was of a continually cheerful spirit, and of
unusual social gifts; an easy and witty talker, with a fine sense
of humor and a fund of personal anecdotes and illustrative stories,
which he told with spirit, and always to the delight of listeners.
He was a great reader, but not a miscellaneous one; having for
his favorite authors the best English historians, such poets as Pope
and Addison, and the theologians of most advanced thought, -
Priestley especially.
On his mother's side, S. J. May was related to the Sewalls and
* Sermon on the Death of Joseph May, Esq. By F. W. P. Greenwood,
DD.D Boston, 1841.




CHILDHOOD.                        8
of Josiah Quincy of Revolutionary memory, and
sister of Dorothy, the wife of John Hancock, for whom
my mother was named.
Quincys, -families whose private worth and public eminence are
well known, not in New England only, but far beyond its bounds.
His great-grandfather was Rev. Dr. Joseph Sewall, of the Old
South Church (born 1688, died 1769). His direct ancestor (the
father of Rev. 15r. Sewall) was Chief Justice Samuel Sewall (born
in England, 1652, died, Boston, 1780). He it was, who, having in
middle life participated (as a junior judge) in the trial and condemnation to death, at Salem, of many persons accused of witchcraft,
afterwards strove in so many ways to atone for that early wrong.
"He observed annually, in private, a day of humiliation and
prayer, during the remainder of his life, to keep fresh in his mind
a sense of repentance and sorrow for the part he bore in those
trials. On the day of the general fast, he rose in the place where
he was accustomed to worship,- the Old South, in Boston,'-and,
in the presence of the great assembly, handed up to the pulpit a
written confession, acknowledging the error into which he had
been led, praying for the forgiveness of God and his people, and
concluding with a request to all the congregation to unite with him
in devout supplication, that it rmight not bring down the displeasure of the Most High upon his country, his family, or himself. He
remained standing during the public reading of the paper. This
was an act of true manliness and dignity of soul." * Whittier has
commemorated in verse the " sad and touching tale"
"Of the fast which the good man life-long kept
With a haunting sorrow that never slept,"
and of his deep and yearning desire, for his country as well as
himself,
" That the sin of his ignorance, sorely rued,
Might be washed away in the mingled flood
Of his human sorrow and Christ's dear blood "
Those who knew Samuel Joseph May will recognize, in these
brief portraits of his ancestry, traits which had strong resemblances
in him, and will see, as the common phrase is, that he came honestly
* Upham's History of Witchcraft, vol. ii. p. 442;




4           LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
My name was to have been James Freeman, after
the late Dr. Freeman, minister of King's Chapel, Boston, my father's pastor arid very intimate friend. But,
although my parents had lost two sons named Samuel
Joseph, the second dying the week after my birth, yet
the name was so comprehensive of the family names
both on my father's and my mother's side, that they
concluded to confer it upon me. Samuel was the name
of my father's only brother, and of his father. It was
also the name of my mother's oldest brother, the late
Chief Justice of Massachusetts, Hon. Samuel Sewall;
of their father, and of their great-grandfather, who was
the Chief Justice in the time of the Salem witchcraft,
and was among the first to suspect, and afterwards to
expose, the delusion. Joseph was the name of my
father, and of his mother's father, and her favorite
brother. It was also the name of my mother's second
brother, the late Joseph Sewall of Boston; and of their
venerated grandfather, Dr. Joseph Sewall of the Old
South Church, in whose family my mother lived a
number of years.
Thus denominated, I started upon the journey of
life, in a very frail body, which so continued until my
twelfth or fourteenth year. I was a very puny boy.
The joys and sorrows of my childhood were, I suppose,
very similar to those of other boys. But there was one
by his genial and cheerful nature; by his freedom from concealment and pretence; by his promptness to avow his convictions;
by his courage to stand for the right; and by his sympathy with
all forms and cases of human suffering and wrong.  S. M.




CHILDHOOD.                  6
great grief that probably made the deepest religious
impression that my soul ever received.
I had a brother, Edward; two years older than
myself.  He was a fair-haired boy, with blue eyes,
bright, playful, affectionate, and particularly fond of
me.   We slept together, we ate together; and he
taught me all the sports I was old enough to take part
in. He had recently commenced going to school, and
I every day awaited his return, in the assurance that
he would bring me something to gratify or do something to amuse me. One day, when he was six years
and eight months old, he came home at early noon,
full of glee, and summoned me to the yard to partake
of his sport. He climbed the fence against the barn,
pretending to sweep chimney; and, when the imaginary work was done, he attempted to get down by
resting his weight upon the slender post of a chair,
the top of which was broken off. The post gave way,
and its splintered point penetrated his body, several
inches, under his arm.  Screams from the servants,
who were near by,'brought our fond mother to the
spot. She, not knowing what had happened, supposed
he had fainted or been stunned by a blow, and ordered
a warm bath. But on raising his arm to remove his
clothes, blood gushed out and revealed the deadly
wound. She fainted on the floor by his side. The
servants ran for some physician; neighbors came in
offering assistance; all was confusion and dismay. My
father and the doctor arrived as soon as possible. But
the dear, beautiful boy was dead. The agony of my




6          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
parents, the crying of my elder brother and sisters,
assured me that something dreadful had happened; and
there my beloved Edward was, eyes shut, body cold,
giving no replies to the tender things that were said to
him, taking no notice of all that was being done to
him or about him. I gave myself up to a passion of
grief, knowing not what it was,- but that some
strange, awful change had come over him. Then they
put grave-clothes upon him, and laid him upon the
mattress in the best chamber, and straightened out his
limbs, and folded his beautiful hands upon his breast,
and covered him only with the clean, cold, white sheet.
I saw it all, - for they could not keep me away, - and
when father and mother and the kind assisting friends
had darkened the room, and were about to withdraw,
I besought them to let me lie down with Edward. My
importunity was so earnest, so passionate, that my
parents were almost afraid, and quite too tender, to
withstand it. When left alone with him, or rather it,
I well remember how I kissed his cold cheek and lips,
pulled open his eyelids, begged him to speak to me,
and cried myself to sleep because he would not.
At tea-time I was carried to the table; but the
weeping of all about me, added to my own dismay,
destroyed my appetite. I ate but little, and only
asked that I might be permitted to go back to the
chamber and lie by the side of Edward. My request
was granted; and there I lay, until my grief was forgotten again in sleep, when I must have been removed,
for I found myself next morning in the bed where I




CHILDHOOD,                  7
had usually slept with my brother, in my mother's
chamber. But I hurried(back to the corpse of Edward;
and kept with it almost all the time until I was taken
from it forever. I saw my father put the body into
the coffin, in order, as he told me, that it might be laid
away in the ground, and then we should see Edward
no more.  But he and my mother, and my brother
and sisters, continually assured me that Edward was
still living, -that he had become an angel, and had
gone to heaven, to dwell with the good and the happy
in the presence of God and Christ.
Two days after the death, the house was filled with
weeping relatives and friends,. with whom Edward had
been a particular favorite. Our good minister read the
burial service. I could not understand it; but it was
solemn, impressive, and I listened with awe.
Then we went slowly, in solemn procession, to the
burial-ground: all was new, strange, awful, to me.
But when the carriages stopped at the gate, and I saw
them taking the coffin off towards the tomb, I insisted
upon seeing what they were going to do with Edward.
So my uncle, Samuel May, took me in his arms,
descended with me into the family vault, and showed
me where the sextons had put away my brother. Then
he pointed out the little coffins in which were the
remains of several of my brothers and sisters, who had
lived and died before I was born, and the coffin in
which my grandfather was buried eight years before. My kind uncle opened one of the coffins and
let me see how decayed the body had become, told




8          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
me that Edward's body was going to decay in like
manner, and at last become like the dust of the earth.
But he again most tenderly assured me that Edward
was still living, that his spirit was not in the coffin, that
it was clothed with another more beautiful, glorious
body, and that he had gone to live in heaven with God
and Christ and the angels. Then he lifted once more
the lid of Edward's coffin, and let me kiss again and
for the last time his cheek, his lips, his forehead. I
went home in a sort of maze, crying, and asking questions which the wisdom of man could not answer.
My only brother, Charles, then a lad fourteen or
fifteen years of age, tenderly took me up to his chamber, lay down with me on his bed, and tried to comfort
me and himself by telling me all that he imagined to
be true about heaven and God and angels, and assuring me again, as others had done, that Edward had
gone to live in that blessed place, in that happy and
glorious company. Of course I believed all that such
dear, good friends told me.
When night came, I was put to bed in the room
where I had so often lain and slept with Edward.
Sleep soon came to relieve my young spirit wearied
with grief and strange excitement. And I dreamt -
dreamt of Edward. All that had been told me was
proved true by what I saw and felt. The ceiling of
the room opened, over where I was lying: a bright,
glorious light burst in, and from the midst of it came
down my lost brother, attended by a troop of little
angels. They left him. He lay by me as he used to




CHILDHOOD.                  9
do, his head on my arm or my head on his. He told
me how happy he was, what a beautiful place heaven
was, how kind God and Christ were to him, and how
all the angels loved one another. There he lay until
morning, when the ceiling above opened again, and
the troop of angels came to bear him back to heaven.
He kissed me, sent messages of love to father and
mother, brother and sisters, and gladly rejoined the
celestial company.
So soon as I awoke and was dressed, I hurried down
to tell the family what I had seen, and to give them
the kisses and messages that dear Edward had sent
them. All day long I thought and talked of what I
had seen; often, as I have since been told, expressed
impatience to have night come; and when it came,
went eagerly to bed, in the confident expectation that
the heavenly vision would be granted me again. And
it was. The next night, and for several nights afterwards, I enjoyed the felt presence of my brother,
and morning after morning came down with the same
or slightly varied messages of love. Until by degrees
my grief abated, the loss of my brother was in some
measure supplied by other playmates, new things
attracted my attention and occupied my thoughts.
But I have never forgotten my Edward, and the events
of his death and burial; and the scenes that I witnessed, and the heavenly vision that I had, are vivid
in my memory, although most of my life for several
years afterwards is very indistinct.
I have been thus particular in narrating this part of
1*




10         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
my life, because I believe it had the greatest influence
in awakening and fixing in my soul the full faith I
have in the continuance of life after death. Indeed, it
sometimes seems to me that I do not believe more
fully in the life that now is than in the life, that is to
come, and, moreover, that the future existence commences immediately after the close of the present.
In the fall of 1852, I received a letter from Mrs.
H. B. Stowe, requesting me to inform her how much
and how intimately I had been acquainted with negroes;
what incidents in my life had probably prepared me to
embrace the cause of the colored people so early and
so earnestly as I had done. Of course, her request
impelled me to look back, with an eager, searching eye,
through the whole of my life, especially the early part
of it, when biases in one direction or another were
most easily taken. I was surprised at the many things
which no doubt have had some influence in predisposing
me to perceive and abhor the great injustice and cruelty
of our cQuntry towards those whose only peculiar
fault is that they are " guilty of a skin not colored like
our own." Two of these things I will record here.
It has been a benefit to me, through life, that when
a little boy, from five to seven years of age, I attended
a Ma'am school, kept by a good old lady, - Mrs. Wallcut, -in company with boys and girls of various conditIon of life, some from the richest and others from
the poorer families in the neighborhood.  I well
remember that I sat upon the same bench, and recited




CHILDHOOD.                  11
in the same class, with a boy whose skin was as dark
as a starless night, but whose spirit was as bright and
joyous as a cloudless noon-day. He was certainly more
witty, if not more wise, than any of my school-fellows,
and therefore was the favorite of us all. He was as
good as the best in reading, spelling, repeating the
Catechism, and in counting, which was the extent of
our literary exercises; and in all our plays few were
his equals.
About the same time, when six or seven years of
age, I was going on an errand for my mother. A dog
sprang after me, I ran, often looking backward as I
was going forward. I fell, struck my temple upon a
stone, and lay senseless. On recovering my consciousness, I found myself in the arms of a large black
woman. As soon as I opened my eyes, she said very
soothingly, " Don't be afraid, little boy. I know who
you are. I'll carry you to your mamma." On reaching home,- my face, bosom, and hand smeared with
the blood which had flowed freely from the wound, —
the sight of me filled the family with alarm.  My
mother was agonized with the fear that, like Edward,
I had met with some fatal accident. In her concern
for me, she forgot every thing else. She stripped off
my bloody clothes, washed my face and my hands,
examined carefully the gash upon my temple, and
found the injury to be not so serious as she feared.
Then she thought of the kind woman who had picked
me up, and looked around gratefully to thank and to
offer her some reward. But my benefactress had dis



LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
appeared. She remained long enough to be satisfied
that I had not sustained much harm, and then quietly
withdrew, not lingering to be thanked,. or to receive
any compensation, as very many poor white women
would have done. N6r'did she ever come to the house
to "get her pay." Nor could we find out where she
lived, or who she was, though" my mother made much
inquiry, wishing to make some return for the good
deed she had done.




CHAPTER II.
CHILDHOOD CONCLUDED.
VISIT AT MARBLEHEAD. -A SEVERE MASTER. -THE JEWS.FIRST SIN.-Loss OF EDEN. —REV. DR. CHANNING.-A
LESSON OF TRUE BENEVOLENCE.
SOON after my recovery from this disaster, I was
sent to Marblehead to stay several months in the
family of my uncle, Chief Justice Sewall. My uncle,
aunt, and the children were each and all devoutly religious persons. Three of his five sons - Samuel, Edmund,
Charles Chauncy -became ministers of the Gospel.
One of the other two, Joseph, - who died while in college,- meant to be a minister; and Henry D., who
was a merchant,- first in Montreal, afterwards in New
York, partner of Arthur Tappan, - ought to have been
a minister. I never knew children so early and so
deeply imbued with the spirit of piety. I well remember their morning and their evening prayers, their
shrinking horror of every profane or obscene word, and
their practical, active charity. I gratefully record my
indebtedness to them and their pious parents.
My uncle thought it best for me to attend school
with his boys. So I went to the Marblehead Academy,
then kept by Master Cole. He was a severe man, —
believed in the rod, promptly, and not sparingly, applied.




14         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
That was the doctrine of the day. But to his treatment of me I ascribe my early conversion to the methods of moral suasion.
I was a little boy, able to learn -it was then supposed - only to read and spell. Twice each half-day,
I was exercised, five or ten minutes, in reading and
spelling lessons. All the rest of the three hours I
was required, with other little boys, to sit upright upon
a hard bench, doing nothing but thinking how irksome
it was, and wishing that I had something to do. At
length, one day, I set myself to work. I got a thread
four or five feet long, tied it to a pin which I bent into
a hook; I tore up a paper into small pieces, which I
rolled into forms that it pleased me to regard as fishes.
These I scattered upon the floor; and then, throwing
down my hook, attempted to catch them and draw
them in. I had not captured more than two or three,
when I received several smart boxes upon my ears, and
heard from the voice of my master the sharp reproof, -
"You naughty boy, I'll teach you to behave better in
school time! " He taught me what he little intended to
do. He taught me to regard and fear him as a harsh,
cruel man. I felt (though I do not suppose I clothed
the feeling in these words) that he ought to have given
me something to do, or else let me occupy myself as
best I could.
Marblehead was then a queerer place than it is now.
The people were almost wholly engaged in the fisheries, and in other kinds of navigation. A very large




CHILDHOOD CONCLUDED.              15
proportion of the men were sailors or sea-captains or
mates, often absent from home on long voyages; so that
the women were left to take care of the children, and
manage their own affairs. They consequently became
very self-sustaining and independent; and the feminine
graces were not much cultivated. Then, being ignorant and used to frequent excitements caused by tales of
hardship and fearful catastrophes, they were superstitious. There were fortune-tellers, and several weird
women amongst them. Several houses in the town
were haunted, and stories of ghostly apparitions were
often current. Of course these things had some effect
upon the imaginations of my cousins and myself. We
dreaded the influence of the moon, and preferred to see
the new one for the first time over the right shoulder
rather than the left. But their parents and mine were
very careful to assure us that there were no beings, out
of the body, who would or could injure good little boys,
and that we need be afraid of nothing but sin.
If the children of my day were taught, among other
foolish things, to dread, if not despise, Jews, a very
different lesson was impressed upon my young heart.
There was but one family of the despised children of
the house of Israel resident in Boston,-the family
of Moses Michael Hays: a man much respected, not
only on account of his large wealth, but for his many
personal virtues and the high culture and great excellence of his wife, his son Judah, and his daughters, -
especially Catherine and Slowey. His house, far down




16         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
in Hanover Street, then one of the fashionable streets
of the town, was the abode of hospitality; and his
family moved in what were then the first circles of
society. He and his truly good wife were hospitable,
not to the rich alone, but also to the poor. Many indigent families were fed pretty regularly from his table.
They would come especially after his frequent dinnerparties, and were sure to be made welcome, not to the
crumbs only, but to ampler portions of the food that
might be left.
Always, on Saturday, he expected a number of friends
to dine with him. A full-length table was always
spread, and loaded with the luxuries of the season; and
he loved to see it surrounded by a few regular visitors
and others especially invited. My father was a favorite
guest. He was regarded by Mr. Hays and his whole
family as a particular friend, their chosen counsellor in
times of perplexity, and their comforter in the days of
their affliction. My father seldom failed to dine at Mr.
Hays's on Saturday, and often took me with him; for
he was sure I should meet refined company there.
Both Uncle and Aunt Hays (for so I called them)
were fond of children, particularly of me; and I was
permitted to stay with them several days, and even
weeks, together. And I can never forget, not merely
their kind, but their conscientious care of me. I was
the child of Christian parents, and they took especial
pains that I should lose nothing of religious training so
long as I was permitted to abide with them. Every
night, I was required, on going to bed, to repeat my




CHILDHOOD CONCLUDED.             17
Christian hymns and prayers to them, or else to an
excellent Christian servant woman who lived with them
many years. I witnessed their religious exercises, —
their fastings and their prayers, - and was made to feel
that they worshipped the Unseen Almighty and Allmerciful One. Of course I grew up without any prejudice against Jews, -or any other religionists, because
they did not believe as my father and my mother
believed.
I was accounted a good little boy, and well remember that I used to love to be so, and to be so considered.
And, notwithstanding ill health, I was a very happy,
joyous child. I had many friends, and was rather a
favorite among them.
But, when I was eight or nine years old, an event
happened that expelled me from Eden, and made me
very wretched. I think my recollections of it have
helped me to.understand and to expound, as I do, the
account in Genesis of the fall of our first parents.
I had a sister Eliza, a year and a half younger than
myself, to whom I was much attached. One day I
saw at a toy-shop a doll, which I was sure it would
delight her to have; but I possessed not money enough
to buy it. While I was pondering in my mind how I
should raise the means to gratify her and myself, I
went with my mother to spend the afternoon and take
tea with an aunt. Going about the house in search of
amusement, I chanced to find, in the chamber of the
maid-servant, lying upon the table, just the little sum
B




18         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
of money that I needed. The temptation was too
strong for me. I took it, and got away from the house
without detection. The next day, after school, I ran
to the toy-shop, purchased the doll and carried it home,
and gave it, somewhat clandestinely, to my sister. Of
course it soon became known throughout the house
that Eliza had a new doll, and that it was given to her
by her loving brother. But then, alas! the question
arose, how did he obtain it? It was bought at Mrs.
shop. But where did he get money enough to
pay for it? I was able to answer the first inquirers so
as to satisfy them for the moment. I soon found
myself involved in the necessity of inventing other
falsehoods to conceal the first. The predicament was
a new one to me. My perplexity was most distressing.
I avoided as much as possible the members of the
family. I especially feared the faces of my parents.
Their eyes seemed to penetrate my bosom and read
the secret. When alone, I was not at ease; for I heard
a voice saying, " Thief, you stole it." Nothing amused
me, nothing beguiled me of myself. Even music, of
which I was very fond, and which my older sisters
made of the sweetest kind, failed to quiet my troubled
spirit.  Every thing about me was changed.   Our
pleasant little parlor was dreary, and home a dreadful
place.
I endured my misery but a day or two. Then I
went to my parents and confessed my crime, telling
them the whole truth. They were astonished and
grieved, but they commiserated me in my sorrow and




CHILDHOOD CONCLUDED.              19
shame and soothed me by their compassion, while they
exposed fully the heinous nature of the crime I had
committed, and showed me to what horrible consequences here and hereafter a thievish disposition would
lead.
They gave me money enough, and required me to
go to the servant-maid from whom I had stolen it, confess to her my fault, repay what I had taken from her,
and ask her forgiveness. I did it all willingly, gladly,
and was greatly relieved. The woman treated me
kindly, and only admonished me that I should come
to a dreadful end,'if I should continue to be a thief;
but graciously expressed the belief that I should
never steal again. The recollection of the thoughts
and feelings that I had in those days is almost as
vivid as the consciousness of them was at the time.
I shall never forget how guilt darkened the day,
made the night dismal, changed the aspect of my
home, and gave to the voices of my parents a tone
at which I started in affright. I was driven out of
Eden.
One of the greatest advantages I have enjoyed in life
has been my acquaintance with Rev. Dr. Channing.
It commenced at an early day, when I was quite a
small boy, and continued until his decease. He lived
in Federal Street, not far from my father's house, so
that I could go alone to his study when I was not
more than six or seven years of age. He would talk
most kindly to me, and instruct me by pictures of




20         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
objects in nature and art. I can distinctly remember
only one of my visits to him at that time. As his
treatment of me then made a salutary inmpession upon
my mind as well as memory, I deem it worthy of
preservation.
I had tarried with him as long as his engagements
would permit me to stay. He had entertained and
instructed me by some pictures, in which I was much
interested; and, among his lessons, he had, as usual,
pressed upon me the duty of kindness to the poor and
unhappy, assuring me that I should always enjoy, all
the more, the good things which my heavenly Father
accorded to my lot in life, if I shared them with those
who were less fortunate. He told me that he could
not allow me to tarry with him any longer at that
time, as he was then very busy. So he bade me goodby, giving me, at the moment, three nice cakes, one
for myself, and one for each of my younger sisters.
On my way home I met a poor, ragged boy, about my
own size. He looked very wishfully at the sweet
things I was carrying in my hands; perhaps he asked
me for one of them. Anyhow, I gave him one, and
ran back to tell Mr. Channing how promptly I had followed his instructions, not doubting that he would
give me another cake to supply the place of that which
I had bestowed upon the poor boy, and to reward me
for my charitableness. To my surprise, then, he merely
commended very highly what I had done, telling me
it was much better for me that I had given the sweetmeat to the little beggar, who probably seldom, if ever,




CHILDHOOD CONCLUDED.            21
got any thing so nice to eat, whereas I had plenty of
pleasant food every day; and sent me off again with
only the cales for my sisters. There was a heavenly
wisdom in his dealing with me at that time which I
have often thought of since, and for which I have
always been grateful.




CHAPTER III.
SCHOOL DAYS.
MA'AM SCHOOLS.-MR. CUMMINGS.-MR. DANIEL ADAMS.REV. DR. RICHMOND, AT STOUGHTON.-FIRST AND ONLY
PUNISHMENT. TAUGHT TO BE CAREFUL.
M    Y generous father, who thought the best patrimony he could give to his children was a good
education, spared no expense that was needful to insure
us the best instruction. So we were sent to the private schools in Boston that enjoyed the highest reputation. The public schools of that day, although good,
were not what they now are and have been since the
days of Horace Mann.
From five to eight years of age, I attended what
were then called Ma'am schools,-the first one kept
in Milk Street by a Mrs. Cazeneau and her daughter,
the second in High Street, kept by Mrs. Wallcut and
her daughter. My only recollection of the former
(excepting the kind looks of the school-mistress and
the daily routine of exercises) is the temporary loss of
my youngest sister, Abby, - now Mrs. A. B. Alcott, -
then about four years of age. Eliza and I had persuaded our mother to allow us to take our darling little
sister along with us to school. We had led her there
and home again safely for several days, and she had




SCHOOL DAYS,                  23
become so eager to accompany us that she became
quite a regular attendant. At length, it was regarded
as a matter of course that she was to go to school as
we did. We were less anxious about her, less watchful of her, feeling less our responsibility for her safety.
One afternoon, as we were returning home with a
party of our fellows and playing by the way, Abby
slipped off into a side street, and went to find something curious of which she had heard, she knew not
what nor where. So soon as we missed her, we commenced a search, but it was in a direction different
from that which she had taken. We became alarmed,
and ran home to report that she was lost. Of course
the whole family were put in requisition to find the
wanderer, and we were left at home alone to bemoan
our carelessness, and indulge our fears for the fate of
our little sister. First one, then another, returned
from a fruitless search, only to aggravate our alarm,
and make more glaring the sin of our unfaithfulness to
the trust committed to us. Not until late in the evening was our anxiety relieved, when a young man, a
cousin, came leading her in, weary and frightened,
from a distant part of the city, where he had found
her.
The most distinct recollection that I have of Ma'am
Wallcut's school, excepting of the black boy already
mentioned, is of a conversation that I had with my
little school-fellows about heaven, one noon when we
were kept in the school-room during the intermission
because it rained. Our reading-lesson that forenoon




24         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
had been in the New Testament, something about
heaven and its joys. I do not remember what particular passage it was. The question was raised by some
one of the children, in what the happiness of heaven
consisted. Various conjectures were offered: I do not
remember what they were, excepting two. One little
girl said she thought we should have plenty of burnt
almonds there. I told them, I expected we should sit
up at table and drink coffee.  This low conception
was undoubtedly suggested by the fact that I, with my
sister Eliza, was required to stand at the breakfasttable and eat bread and milk, while my parents and
older sisters and brother sat at table and regaled themselves upon coffee and toast.
The first man's school that I went to was kept by
Mr. Cummings, the author of the Geography which for
a number of years enjoyed a high reputation. He was
considered a teacher of superior skill, and for a number
of years his school was regarded as the best in Boston.
It was kept in a pleasant, wooden building situated in
a yard in the rear of the Federal Street (Dr. Channing's) Church, at the corner of Berry Street. Unfortunately for me, Mr. Cummings resigned his place soon
after I had become his pupil. Mr. Lanceolet Lyon
succeeded him, - an inferior, though still a successful
teacher, who enjoyed a good reputation for fifteen or
twenty years. I attended his school until I was ten
or eleven years of age, and was then put to Mr. Daniel
Adams, the author of the well-known Arithmetic, who
had come to the city with considerable renown, and




SCHOOL DAYS.                 25
occupied rooms in Court Street. There I commenced
the study of Latin; but made very little progress in
that or any other branch of learning, for I was frequently interrupted by serious sicknesses, and more
often by severe headaches. The rooms which we
occupied were low; no attention was paid to ventilation, and the air became so impure that almost every
day I was disabled by nausea, headache, or lassitude.
My health was so poor that it was thought indispensably necessary that I should go into the country to
live. So I was sent to Stoughton to reside in the family of Rev. Edward Richmond, afterwards D.D. He
was a good and a sensible man, but not much of a
teacher. He had only four or six pupils,- no two pursuing precisely the same studies. There was no excitement in the school, but dulness reigned there. It was
not intended that I should be kept very closely at my
books. Health, rather than learning, was the object of
my rustication. So I was allowed to keep out, much of
the time, in the open air: to range the fields, ride horse
to plough, drive the cows to and from the pasture, and
work in my garden. But I was very homesick, though
my health had improved in other respects.
At the expiration of about a year, I was taken home
again, and put to school to Mr. Elisha Clap, who kept
in a large room under the First Church in Chauncy
Place. He was accounted a very thorough scholar, and
a strict disciplinarian, severe withal. He had been for
a number of years Principal of the Academy at Sandwich; and had come to Boston to take charge of a
2




26         LIFE OF SAMUEL J: MAY.
select school of only twenty-five boys, for whose instruction he was to be paid one hundred dollars a year for
each. This was a higher sum than had ever been paid
a teacher in that city before. Chief Justice Parsons,
Judge Parker, Harrison Gray Otis, Samuel Eliot, William Gray, et id omne genus, were his patrons. It was
a good school, though his methods of teaching would
now be considered obsolete, and his plans of discipline
not highly esteemed. Under his instruction I fitted for
college, and was entered without conditions, after the
Commencement vacation, September, 1813, when just
sixteen years old. Before I remove to Cambridge, I will
narrate the occurrence which alone I had in view when I
commenced this chapter, and which suggested its title.
Throughout all my school-days, I had endeavored to
be a good boy; partly because I dreaded punishment,
and partly because I loved to be accounted a good boy
and carry home to my parents every week a note of
commendation.
Mr. Clap was very strict, and our parents liked him
all the better for that. He not only allowed no whispering in study hours, no communications by letter or
by signs, but he allowed no unnecessary noises, when
in our desks, or while going to or from the place of
recitation, or coming in or going out of the school-room.
Letting fall a book or slate, or any thing that could be
heard on striking the floor, he accounted an offence, and
forbade it by special regulation. Every one who met
with that accident was to be punished by one blow
with a ferule upon his hand. Few escaped.




SCHOOL DAYS.                 27
Four. or five months before I left the school for college, -when intent upon completing well my preparation,-I was engaged one day in a Latin recitation
with my class, standing against the front row of desks,
upon which we were permitted to lay our grammars, to
be used if needed. A question about the construction
of a sentence arose between a classmate and myself.
It was a nice point. The teacher was pleased, and
allowed, as he often did, some brief debate between us.
In order to justify the construction upon which I
insisted, I turned hastily round to get my grammar, in
which I knew I should find a note exactly to my purpose. Unluckily, I had laid the book upon the desk
just so, that, in turning, my elbow hit it and knocked
it off. It fell to the floor, with not a little noise. A
cloud settled upon the brow of the master. I faintly
hoped that the punishment would be remitted in consideration of my exemplary conduct throughout the
nearly three years that I had been his pupil. But, alas!
he was inexorable. The punishment was inflicted in
presence of the whole school. I cared not for the pain
it gave me; but the sense of injustice and of disgrace
wounded me to the quick.
I rushed home, and unburthened my full heart to my
affectionate mother. She accepted at once my view of
the case. We came to the conclusion that I ought not
to be allowed to return to the school, unless Mr. Clap
would make ample amends. Soon after, my father
came in to dinner. He perceived the perturbation, and
was at once informed of the cause,- the outrage that




28         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
had been committed upon me. To our astonishment,
he did not seem to catch the flame of our indignation.
After a few minutes, he said, tenderly, but very firmly:
"You were careless, my son. Carelessness is not a
venial offence: it often is the cause of a great deal of
evil. If your teacher will so train you that you will
never be careless, he will do that which will be a great
blessing to you through the whole of your life. By all
means go to school this afternoon, and hereafter as
usual." I obeyed him; for happily I belonged to a
generation of which the children were pretty generally
taught obedience to their parents. I went reluctantly
to school, concealing, as best I could, my grief and my
resentment. The kindness of the master's manner
assured me that he regretted the occurrence almost as
much as I did.
In justice to my father, I should state that, several
years afterwards, he recurred to this event in: my
life; assured me that at the time of it he deeply sympathized in my and my mother's feeling. He thought
the rule a severe one and that its operation in my
case was particularly hard. "But," said he, "we all
have to endure hardness in this life, and sometimes to
submit to injustice; and I thought you might as well
begin then to learn the lesson. Besides, it would have
been very unwise to take you away from so good an
instructor, just as you were about to complete your
preparation for college."




CHAPTER IV.
COLLEGE LIFE.
UNSATISFACTORY FRESHMAN YEAR. -BOWDOIN PRIZE. -SOPHOMORE YEAR.-JUNIOR YEAR.- RESOLVES TO BECOME A
MINISTER. -DANIEL WEBSTER AND THE POND LILIES. -
GEORGE B. EMERSON.
A    LTHOUGH, as I soon found, I had not been
thoroughly well prepared, I entered College
without conditions, in September, 1813. Our country
was then at war with England. Quite a number of
young men, therefore, came to Cambridge, who were
more inclined to business than to learning. The class
was at first unusually large, the largest that had then
ever entered the University. There were in the beginning eighty-seven of us. Soon after the return of
peace, in 1815, several left College, and went into
merchandise; others left for other reasons, and three
died. So that only sixty-seven were graduated, at the
Commencement in 1817. Of my classmates, a number
have since become distinguished men, as may be seen
by recurring to the Catalogue; and we considered ourselves, as a whole, a superior set of fellows. At a
chance meeting of the Alumni in 1819 or 1820, a dispute arose as to the comparative excellence of our
several classes. William H. Gardner, of the class of
1816, settled the question by insisting that his was not




30         LIFE  OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
only the best class that ever had been in College, but
the best that was ever expected.
My Freshman year was, on the whole, an unsuccessful and a very unhappy one. Unfortunately I presumed to prejudge some of the subjects prescribed in
the college course, and to decide that they would
never be of any use to me, and that I could spend some
of my time to better purpose, than il preparing myself
very thoroughly to recite some of the lessons given us.
This is the mistake which many foolish young men
make. They do not consider that the course of college
studies is devised by learned and wise men, so as best
to develop the various faculties of the mind and heart;
and that no young man can know, until he shall
have completed the course, what parts of it have been,
or are likely to be, most useful to him. I accomplished
very little during the first eight months of my college
life: I fell to a very low place in my class, and became
displeased with myself, and really miserable.
In February or March, 1814, the subjects for dissertations to be written for the Bowdoin Prizes were given
out. Four prizes were offered: two of the first grade,
thirty dollars each; and two of the second grade,
twenty dollars each. At once I determined to try for
a prize. No Freshman ever had gained one, if any had
ever written for one. Nor was it expected that students
of the Freshman Class would enter the lists. Nevertheless I determined to try. I knew success would lift
me, at a bound, from my low standing, and give me at
once a position among my fellows, from which I could




COLLEGE LIFE.               81
more easily ascend to something like eminence in the
class.
I chose for my subject, " The Causes of the Diversities
of National Character." I kept my intention a profound secret; for I knew I should be ridiculed, without
mercy, for thinking it possible that I could write a
dissertation upon such a subject, worthy of a prize,
unless by success I showed that I could do it.' I was
obliged to study my subject and write upon it stealthily,
lest my chum should discover my intention and divulge
it to the class. I read Kaime's Sketches of Man,
Sidney on Government, Montesquieu on the Spirit
of Lawsj from all of which I derived invaluable hints,
although I could.not find in them any thing exactly to
my purpose. I got all my materials ready, and several
parts of the Dissertation written during the term that
followed the announcement of the subjects; and in the
spring vacation of two weeks, the last of May and
first of June, I engrossed and carefully copied my
virgin Essay.
It was signed "Juvenis of the Freshman Class,"
and was stealthily deposited in the appointed place,
before the close of June.  Never can I forget-the
almost sleepless anxiety with which I awaited the
award.  It was not given until two months afterwards, just before Commencement.
One morning, in the Chapel, after prayers, in the
presence of the whole College, the President requested
all to be seated, and hear the report of the committee
appointed to examine the various Dissertations that




82         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
had been given in for the Bowdoin Prizes. Thirty one
or two, in all, had been read and compared by the
impartial examiners, who knew not the author of
any one. All of them were deemed meritorious,
several of them were excellent; but the committee,
after much deliberation, had given the preference to
the four following:.first one, by Mr. John Ware, resident
graduate; the second,:by -, of the Senior Class;
the third, by Justin W. Clarke, of the Sophomore;
and the fourth, by Samuel J. May, of the Freshman
Class. I felt at one moment like fainting or sinking
through the floor, and then like exhaling. My personal
friends crowded about me with their congratulations.
But my cup of joy was not unmixed. Some contemptuous remarks came to my ears, and the cruel insinuation that it must have been written for me by another.
A few weeks after, the Dissertations were read aloud
in the Chapel, each by its author, in presence of the
Faculty and all the classes, and then fair copies of the
same were deposited in the Library of the University.
This was the great event in my college life. From
the hour of this success, I began to retrieve my reputation as a scholar, and received a full share of the honors
which the Faculty could confer.
At the commencement of the Sophomore year, I began
to chum with my cousin, Samuel E. Sewall, a most
conscientious young man, a diligent student, and a
distinguished scholar. With him I continued to live,
in the same relation, to the close of our college life;
and it was a very great advantage to me that I was so




COLLEGE LIFE.                     33
associated with him. We graduated at Commencement,
1817, he as seventh or eighth, and I as the thirteenth
or fourteenth, in a class of sixty-seven. I was associated,
at the Exhibition on that day, in a Colloquial Discussion on the Sabbath, Jewish and Christian, with
Samuel A. Eliot, of Boston.
Early in my Junior year, I formed the determination
to devote myself to the Christian ministry. I cannot
now remember all the influences that led to nor the considerations'that fixed me in this determination. But
from  that time I paid more particular attention to
all those branches of study which had the most obvious bearing upon theological doctrines and moral
principles.1
1 At the time when Mr. May entered college, and while he was
residing at Cambridge, the President and professors were men of
marked talents and character, whose influence, direct and indirect,
could not but have been very great.
Dr. Kirkland, the President, was a man of the most genial
nature, of an unperturbed constancy and serenity, generous and
warm-hearted, and showing a strong interest in all the students.
His' remarkable knowledge of character, and his power of penetrating into that of every person, were what he had earnestly prayed
for, and which were fully granted. He felt and sympathized with
whatever was excellent; he saw, almost instantly, what was wayward, false, or wanting; and he knew what allowance to make for
inherited tendencies, for the influence of bad example, and for
the faults of a perverted or neglected early education. He was
always ready to help; and he did it so graciously that the kindness
was never forgotten. His manners —though a part of his childhood was literally spent among savages, to whom his father was a
missionary - were delicate and urbane, as of one who had passed.his life in the best society. Such is the almost miraculous
power of a devoted Christian mother. He had the persuasive
2*                      c




34           LIFE   OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
My most intimate friends in College were Robert
Schuyler, Benjamin     Fessenden, John Doane Wells,
eloquence- " the visible rhetoric "-of a spotless life and noble
character.
John Farrar, professor of Natural Philosophy and Astronomy,
was, in conversation, manners, and feelings, all we could ask for
in a gentleman; and, as a lecturer, of unsurpassed ability. He
was so clear and attractive, and interested his audience of Seniors
and Juniors to such a degree, that they forgot every thing else;
and the dinner-bell itself, though coming half an hour after
the normal end of the lecture, was often an unwelcome surprise
and interruption. Listening to this natural eloquence, one felt
that it would be an easy thing to lecture well upon such subjects.
No person, well prepared in the classical department, could fail
to be influenced by the purity and refinement of taste of Levi
Frisbie, professor of Latin; who, though unable, from the weakness of his eyes, to read himself, showed others how to read; and
who, in his class, when a good scholar hesitated for the best rendering of a word or sentence, threw out from underneath the handkerchief which almost constantly covered his face the most fitting
word or phrase which the English language afforded. This could
not happen often, and, indeed, happened only to those who were
nice in translating. Professor Brazer, an excellent Latin scholar,
pupil and successor of Mr. Frisbie, said, when he was himself a teacher, that nothing had ever done so much to raise his
own standard of correct translation as these interjected words.
Probably no one, susceptible of the highest impressions, could
remain unmoved by the elevation and purity of Mr. Frisbie's religious character, which shed about him an atmosphere of exalted
feeling which almost imperceptibly elevated. The very presence
of such a man is a purifying influence.
In those years, Andrews Norton was college librarian. This
office often enabled him, in his modest way, to give an important
turn to a scholar's reading. By a few words to a student going
off to teach a winter school, he directed all the leisure hours of
ten weeks in the country to the most profitable reading and study.
During a part of Mr. May's time, while a student in theology, he
occupied a room near to Mr. Norton's in the pleasant Appian Way;




COLLEGE LIFE.                     35
Thomas Russel Sullivan, Samuel A. Eliot, Joseph
Coolidge, Charles Henry Warren, Joseph H. Jones,
and, above all, George B. Emerson.
Benjamin Fessenden was one of the most ingenuous,
and, attracted perhaps by his signal ability and the richness and
suggestiveness of his conversation, sometimes visited him. Half
an hour with Mr. Norton could not fail to awaken and encourage
the highest thoughts and noblest purposes in a person as receptive
of good as Mr. May.
Of the sincerity, the quiet wisdom, the calm sagacity, the faultless purity of life of the Christian veteran, the elder Henry Ware,
Mr. May had reason to be made fully aware, on the occasion mentioned by himself. It was, doubtless, the perception of these rare
qualities which attracted him.
Dr. McKean, professor of Rhetoric, came very little in contact
with the students, and influenced them only by his lectures. Mr.
May was introduced to him, visited him in his study, and felt and
acknowledged his kindness.
The other professors and tutors were men of high character;
and, together with those above mentioned, they had a power to
influence young men in the formation of their character and their
plans for life, such as has rarely been possessed by a college
faculty. It cannot have been accidental that, from nearly every
class that came under their instruction, so large a number embraced
the profession which looks to a higher end than mere earthly success; that during Dr. Kirkland's presidency so many of the leading
men in ability and scholarship, - such as A. Lamson and F. W. P.
Greenwood; C. Francis and Jared Sparks; the brothers W. B. O.
and 0. W. B. Peabody; A. Cummings, S. J. May; E. S. Gannett,
A. Young; A. Hill and G. W. Wells; F. Cunningham and J. Whitman; and many others still alive,- chose theology for their
profession.
During the latter part of the time that Mr. May passed at Cambridge, Edward Everett and George Ticknor came to widen, by
their eloquence and thorough scholarship, the course of instruction, and to inaugurate a change which is at this moment showing
its ripe fruits.                               G. B. E.




86         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
kind-hearted persons I ever knew; and we were wedded
to each other not only by a true friendship, but by our
mutual love of song. Our voices harmonized perfectly;
and we spent many, perhaps too many, hours together
in singing.
John D. Wells was not at all distinguished as a
college scholar; but he was sensible, and had a great
deal of information on some scientific subjects, of
which he was'particularly fond. Then he was as pure
as distilled water, and as affectionate as a woman.
I sometimes felt really "in love with him."  Unexpectedly to himself, quite as much as to anybody else,
he rose more rapidly after leaving College than any
of my classmates, and died suddenly, when about thirtythree years of age, one of the most popular anatomical
and medical lecturers in our country. He was a professor in three medical schools at the same time, and
killed himself by his undue exertions to discharge his
official duties in each.
Thomas R. Sullivan, now also dead, was a grandson
of Thomas Russel, one of the merchant princes of
Boston, at the close of the last and for the first ten
years of the present century. He was a young man of'
the most delicate sense of propriety, and of scrupulously courteous manners.
His father, the late John L. Sullivan, Esq., was a
large owner, and the principal manager of the Middlesex Canal. Once or twice every summer for a number
of years, he was wont to invite a party of friends to
spend the day with him upon the Canal and on Woburn




COLLEGE LIFE.                37
Pond, one of its principal feeders. It was an occasion
that always brought together as many of the elite of
Boston as could be pleasantly accommodated in the
largest canal-boat. The Sullivans, Amorys, Eliots,
Otises, &c., were there; and his son was empowered to
invite a suitable number of collegians, to insure to
the party a due amount of fun and frolic. I was
repeatedly invited.
On one of these parties, an incident happened by
which I was very pleasantly introduced to the great
Daniel Webster, who had then recently removed his
residence from Portsmouth to Boston; and the addition
of whose company to " the Canal Party " made all who
had the honor to be invited the more eager to go.
On our return from Woburn, we stopped for a while
at a beautiful point on the-shore of Spot Pond. So
soon as the ladies came upon the margin of the little lake,
they espied uncountable numbers of the lilies, whose
fragrance is so refreshing. Each and all exclaimed how
much they longed to have them. But, alas! they were
too far off to be reached by any means but a boat or a
raft. But where could the one be found, or the matterials for the other be collected? The more the probability of getting them seemed to recede, the more
earnest became the desires of the young ladies to be
possessed of the beautiful flowers, and the more touching their expressions of disappointment. At length
Mr. Webster exclaimed, "Oh that I were as young as I
was a few years ago! I would ransack the shores of the
Pond, until I found some boat or boards by which to




38         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
reach and gather those lilies." No sooner were the
words out of his mouth than the young men of the
party bounded off at the top of their speed, to find
what he had intimated ought to be sought after.
Nearly all went. I stood very demurely, enduring as
well as I could the glances of almost contemptuous
surprise at my want of gallantry. I stood until my
fellows were too far gone to see what I meant to do,
when I waded out and collected all that I could bring
in of the lovely tempters. Shouts of applause cheered
me on; and when I reached the shore, soaked with
water frdm my waistcoat pockets downwards, and
presented to each of the ladies one or more of the
flowers they had so much desired, their thanks were
profuse, and to me quite as grateful as the fragrance of
the lilies, mixed as they were with tender expressions
of anxiety lest my gallantry should cost me some
severe sickness. The gentlemen were not backward in
commending the exploit, and Mr. Webster was louder
than all of them in my praise. "Ah, sir," said I, "the
ladies owe these lilies less to my gallantry than to your
eloquence. I could not stand unmoved by your appeal."
" Never before," he exclaimed, -" never before have I
gained a lily by my eloquence." "No, sir," I rejoined,
"but it has often been crowned with laurels." All this
of course prolonged somewhat the merriment, until we
saw the young men returning along the shore of the
lake, dragging an old dory which they had found about
a quarter of a mile off. Immediately all the company
arranged themselves to welcome the poor fellows,




COLLEGE LIFE.                89
every lady with a lily in her bosom, or on'her head,
and every gentleman swinging one in his hand. So
soon as my comrades got near enough to espy the
flowers, they dropped the rope of the boat, and pushed
forward to be assured that the appearance was a reality.
And when they saw that -the lilies had indeed been
taken from the pond, and found that they had "gotten
only their labor for their pains," while they in their
hearts generously exulted with me in my triumph, they
threatened me with all sorts of retaliations if I were
not protected by the presence of the fair sex.
After this pleasant introduction to the great orator,
he always graciously recognized me wherever we met,
until his fearful recreancy to the cause of liberty
impelled me to lift my voice on the 4th of July, 1838,
in earnest condemnation of one whom I had once so
profoundly respected and ardently admired.
The last named in the foregoing list of my most
intimate college friends - George B. Emerson - was
one of our prominent scholars. But, better than that,
he was a sensible, staid young man, right in all his
purposes of life, correct in all his habits. The class
called him "Pater." I respected and loved him more
than any one of my fellows; and my acquaintance
with him has been one of the great blessings of my life.
After we had been intimate a year or more, we found
that we were of the same age precisely,- to a day, as
our family records showed; to an hour, so far as our
mothers could remember. This, no doubt, helped to
cement our friendship. He was less convivial than my



40           LIFE   OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
self, more studious, and consequently a much better
scholar.  He was often vexed with me that I did no better; and his faithful, affectionate admonitions roused
me to exertion, and kept me from      falling to a lower
grade.1
1 Of the feelings entertained toward Mr. May by those of his
classmates who knew him best, the following extracts from letters
give evidence.
One of them, Fessenden, with whom he was intimate till the
end of their theological studies, says: -
"All my recollections of May are pleasant. I never heard an
angry or unkind expression from his lips. He could vent his
righteous indignation at wrong in no measured terms; but, while
he condemned, he pitied and forgave. His heart always overflowed
with the milk of human kindness, and his whole aim and desire
was to make his fellow-men better and happier. You and I knew
that splendid man, his father. Sam inherited his noble qualities,
and an anecdote of the father will illustrate the character of both;
"It was said that the Colonel, while travelling on the road,
would alight and remove a stone or other obstruction that might
jolt or incommode the traveller. So Sam's whole life was, I
think, spent in efforts to remove obstacles in the way to the happiness and peace of his fellows. He is to-day reaping his reward."
Another, S. E. Sewall, writes thus: —
"I am sorry that I remember so little about S. J. May's life
in college. Our college life seems to me like a pleasant dream,
of which I retain a vivid recollection of only a few particulars.
"I felt then, as I have ever since, the charm of his character.
Always affectionate, always sympathetic, always conscientious,
with a delightful voice and agreeable manners, — every one who
met him was drawn towards him. I did not realize then, as I
have since, the full excellence of his character, and his great
power of acting on individuals and society, -a power which he
always exercised for good purposes. In truth, my admiration of
his character has been steadily growing, till now, when he is gone
from us, I see its nearness to perfection."
Another says:



COLLEGE LIFE.                     41
"Mr. May was always a modest man, but he was sincere and
conscientious; and, embracing the truth which offered itself to
him as if it came from the Source of all truth, he could not easily
be moved from his conclusions. He listened patiently, and with
perfect fairness and honesty, to all that was said; but yielded only
to what seemed to him a higher view of truth. It is remarkable
in how many instances he embraced truths of the highest importance, though, to hold them, he was obliged to stand out against
those for whom he had the greatest affection and respect."




CHAPTER V.
PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY.
TEACHER AT HINGHAM. -RESIDENT GRADUATE AT CAMBRIDGE.
-STATE OF THEOLOGICAL LEARNING. -PAINFUL DOUBTS.
-NOBLE COURSE OF REV. DR. WARE.-NOAH WORCESTER AND THE PEACE SOCIETY. — TEACHER AT BEVERLY.
E   ARLY in October, 1817, I removed to Hingham,
on an engagement with the Rev. Henry Colman,
to study theology under his direction, and assist him in
teaching a small classical school, comprising, if I remember correctly, six or eight boys from Boston, and his
three children, Anna, Sarah, and James Freeman.
The arrangement was that we should keep the school,
each alone, a week alternately. I did not like it. I
could neither pursue any course of study as I wished
to, nor could I conduct the school in a manner satisfactory to myself. On the first of the following May,
therefore, I was generously released by Mr. Colman
from my engagement; and my classmate and friend,
Robert F. Walcutt, succeeded me.
But my short residence in Hingham was by no
means an unimportant portion of my early life. It not
only instituted a friendship between myself and Mr. Colman, which continued with unabated warmth as long as
he lived, but it introduced me to the acquaintance of a
number of remarkable and interesting persons. I would




PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY.          43
particularly mention the Rev. Dr. Allyn, of Duxbury, -
a very eccentric but a very wise man; and his admirable daughter, Abby Allyn, afterwards the wife of the
late Professor Convers Francis, of the Divinity School,
Cambridge. To Mr. Colman I am indebted for the
honor and pleasure I enjoyed of being introduced, in
the spring of 1818, to the venerable John Adams and
wife. Mr. Adams was quite a theologian, and devoted.
much of his time during the last years of his life to the
study of theology. He loved to converse with sensible,
learned ministers. Mr. Colman seemed to be one of
his favorites.  And on one occasion, when going to
visit the venerable ex-president he was so kind as to
take me with him. B3            rs. A. appeared to
be in excellent health, excepting only some of the
infirmities of old age. They'civersed with much
animation on the subjects which were at that day
most interesting; and I listened to them for hours, with
admiration of them, not only for what they had been,
but what they then were.
Immediately after the short spring vacation in May,
I removed to Cambridge, and took a room next to the
house in which Professor Andrews Norton (then the
librarian) lodged. MLy classmates and friends, Samuel
A. Eliot, Benjamin Fessenden, and Thomas R. Sullivan,
- all of them engaged in the study of Divinity,occupied rooms in the same street.
From the Dana House I removed to the Appian
Way. There I lived, if I remember correctly, a year;
enjoying the society of the above-named classmates,




44         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
and occasionally of Professor Norton. The Divinity
School was then hardly organized. We obtained what
advice and direction we sought from Dr. Ware, Professor Norton, and Professor Frisbie. We attended any
of the College Lectures that we pleased, and had some
special lectures given to us, by Professor Frisbie, on
Moral Philosophy; by Professor Norton, on Biblical
Interpretation; and by Dr. Ware, on Dogmatic History.
We also received some instruction in Hebrew from
Professor Willard; and, towards the last of our course,
from Professor Edward Everett, on Greek Literature.
But, for the most part, we were left to ourselves to pursue our studies as we might, receiving no thorough
training in any department.
We formed a society for mutual religious improvement. At our meetings, one of our number offered
prayer, and preached a sermon, which we criticised.
Some one or two of the professors usually attended
these meetings, and favored us with their criticisms.
Professor Everett kindly invited us to meet him for
exercises in elocution, and we did so a few times.
Now, when I look back upon the course of study we
pursued, it seems meagre indeed. Most of the best
books which are now studied by the young men in the
Divinity School have come into existence, or been
introduced from Germany, since our day.
Soon after the commencement of my studies at
Cambridge, an incident happened, so honorable to
another, and so important in its influence upon myself,
that I ought to preserve the memory of it. Before




PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY.          45
beginning the study of Theology, I had never thought
much on the subject. My religious affections had been
quickened and cultivated by my parents and other
religious friends, and by some of the circumstances in
which I had been placed. But as to the doctrines of
the Gospel, I had accepted reverently, without questioning, such as were current among Unitarians in the days
of my youth. As soon, however, as I set about preparing for the ministry, I felt it to be my duty to study
the subject, and look into the mysteries of our Faith,
so far as it may be given us to know them. The New
England Unitarian Controversy had commenced, having
been started in 1815, by Dr. Morse, of Charlestown, in
" The Panoplist," by an attack upon the liberal ministers of Boston. I had, however, been too much engrossed with college matters to pay any careful attention to it. Nor had it advanced far when I entered the
Divinity School.
Of course I commenced, in good earnest, the study
of the Sacred Scriptures. And it was not long before
doubts of their plenary inspiration arose in my mind;
and then a disbelief of the miraculous conception of
Jesus Christ. I was alarmed, distressed. It seemed as
if the very foundation was falling away from under me.
I feared that there might be some fatal defect in my
mind, that would unfit me for the Christian ministry.
My concern became so serious and oppressive, that I
felt obliged to reveal my spiritual condition to the
Father of the Divinity School, and ask his counsel.
So, in great perturbation, I went to Dr. Ware's study.




46         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
He received me kindly, as he was wont to do. I looked
anxiously around, to be sure that no other person was
in hearing, and then asked him if he was willing to
receive an important communication from me. He encouraged me to unbosom myself with perfect frankness.
I was much agitated; for I feared that I was about to
shock him, and reveal to him a condition that he would
deem hopeless. However, I had resolved that I ought
to do it, and so I did. I told him of the doubts that
had arisen to trouble me, and, as I feared, to debar my
progress in the course of life which I had chosen. I
kept no secret of my heart on the-subject undisclosed.
When I had finished, -the Doctor had listened so
silently and thoughtfully that I felt like a convicted
criminal, in the presence of his judge, about to receive
sentence, —it seemed a long while before he spoke.
But when he did, it was in the tenderest accents. "My
young friend," said he, "I am glad to find that you
have arrived at a doubt. I perceive that you have
begun to think on the great subjects to which you have
turned your attention,- that you have entered upon
the study of Theology in good earnest." After a long
breath of surprise and relief, I replied: "I thank you,
sir, for your kindness; but will you tell me how these
doubts are to be resolved?"  He answered: "Mr.
May, I cannot resolve your doubts for you if I would;
and I would not resolve them for you if I could.
When finite minds turn to the contemplation of the
nature, character, providence, and word of the Infinite,
it is to be expected that some.things will appear difficult




PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY.         47
to be understood, that doubts will arise. These are
adapted to stimulate us to further and more careful
inquiry. The All-wise Father has not vouchsafed to us
a full and exact statement of all the truths we are
eager to know respecting Himself, His beloved Son,
our own nature and destiny. We are left to seek after,
if happily we may find, what we desire to know. This
is a part of our trial, of our discipline. You have just
entered upon the grand inquiries. You should not
wonder that you are perplexed by some queries that
have suggested themselves. Go on diligently in your
search after the truth. These doubts will be removed;
other doubts will perhaps arise. And theywill stimulate you to-further and profounder researches. I have
had my doubts; I have some still, and expect to have
them until faith is turned to sight." "But, sir," said I,
"what are the essential truths, —truths that I must
believe? " "All truth," he replied, "is essential. You
are bound to believe whatever, at any time, shall appear
to you to be true; and you are bound to believe it until
you shall cease to be satisfied that it is true." I still
insisted, " How shall I know, sir, that what I believe at
any time is true?"." If you sincerely desire and long
for the truth," the Doctor added, " the Father of your
spirit will not permit you to remain satisfied in error.
And if what you believe, at any time, leads you to reverence God and keep his commandments, to love your
fellow-beings and delight to do them good, it cannot be
a dangerous error."
This conversation not only comforted and strength



48         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
ened me at the time, but has had an effect upon the
conduct and character of my life ever since. I have
never been afraid to pursue any inquiry after truth,
however it might seem to endanger long-cherished
opinions.
During the last years of my college life, I became
acquainted with the venerable Noah Worcester, D.D.,
author of a somewhat remarkable book, in its day,
entitled, "Bible News of the Father, Son, and Holy
Spirit;" but most widely known, and to be longest
remembered, as "the Apostle of Peace."   Having
bestowed much attention upon this subject, in 1814 he
published his " Solemn Review of the Custom of War,"
-the most impressive and efficient pamphlet that has
ever been published, so far as my acquaintance with
such things extends.
This tract produced a powerful effect on my mind.
I sought the acquaintance of the venerable author, and
record it as one of the blessings of my life that, from
1819 to the time of his death, I enjoyed his friendship,
and was permitted to hold some correspondence with
him. He was the most holy, man I ever knew.
The first great Christian reform that I ever embraced
was thus the one inaugurated by him, —the attempt to
abolish the custom of war.
In the winter of 1818 and& 1819, I kept a district
school for two or three months, in the town of Beverly.
This was my second experience as a pedagogue, having




PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY.          49
taught a school in the town of Concord, in the winter
of 1816 and 1817. Nothing remarkable happened in
my experience as a school-teacher, excepting that I,
peremptorily and persistently refused to prepare my
pupils for the examination, by the special assignment to
each one of the questions to be answered by him or her,
and the passages to be recited in presence of the committee. Such, I was told, had been the custom of my
predecessors; and my refusal to comply with it excited
not a little commotion throughout the district. But
when, in the end, my pupils appeared so well that the
school was pronounced by the committee one of the
three best in the town, the parents and children were
more than satisfied.
8               D




CHAPTER VI.
HORSEBACK JOURNEY TO WHITE MOUNTAINS.
COMPANIONS.- ASCENT OF MT. WASHINGTON. - MOUNTAIN
CRANBERRIES. - " OLD CRAWFORD." - THE FORGOTTEN
FLASK. - SUSPICIOUS CHARACTERS. - GREAT DEMAND FOR
MILK. -THE BEST BEHAVED.
A T the time we were leaving College, the dysentery
-  prevailed in Cambridge. Many of the students
were sick, and several died. Emerson had it. He
was barely able to stand upon the stage on Commencement Day long enough to deliver his dissertation. So
soon as the exercises of Commencement were over, I
took him to my father's house, where my mother and
sisters nursed him for more than a week. When he
had recovered sufficiently to travel, I went with him
to his home in Wells, now Kennebunk, Maine, and spent
several weeks with him. His father, Dr. Samuel Emerson, was a good scholar and excellent physician, a most
genial man, and a fine musician. I enjoyed every
moment that I remained under his roof. He embraced
me as a son, and our friendship continued until his
death.
Two years after this, while I was making a visit at
Emerson's, our classmates, Samuel E. Sewall, Caleb
Cushing, and Joseph Coolidge, with William Ware of
the class before us, came, according to agreement made




JOURNEY TO WHITE MOUNTAINS.            51
at Cambridge and at Emerson's invitation, to go with
us to the White Hills and Mount Washington, their
summit, in New Hampshire.    We were joined by
Joseph G. Moody, of Kennebunk, a cousin of Emerson's,
a graduate of Bowdoin; and, on the fifth or sixth day
of September, we set off on our excursion,- six on
horseback, one in a wagon, to carry our baggage and
give to the inexperienced horsemen of the party an
occasional respite. This proved to be a wise precaution; for several of us had never before ridden on
horseback ten miles at a time.
The incidents of this journey were all so pleasant
and some so amusing that I cannot resist the temptation to record them. We left our horses at the Willey
Housel at 12 M. on the 9th of September, walked to
the highest point of the Gap, and there, after resting
awhile and admiring the bold, sublime features of the
scene, we stepped over one of the little brooks that
was hastening on to contribute itself to the Saco, and
commenced the ascent of Mount Washington, the peak
of which was four or five miles off. We toiled up
about half way to a spot where we were told it would
be best for us to spend the night, and where there was
a rough bark shed about twelve feet long and eight
feet deep, open in front. "Old Crawford" was our
guide and instructor in all that we needed to know of
" camp life upon the mountains."  Under his direction
we gathered about a cord of dry wood, enough to keep
1 The dwellers in which were afterwards overwhelmed by an
avalanche




52         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
a good fire all night burning in front of our shed. We
then covered the floor of the shed with enough of the
small boughs of the hemlock to make us a soft bed;
and after eating a hearty supper of the good things
we had carried in our knapsacks, and talking awhile of
our adventures thus far on the journey, we bestowed
ourselves at an early hour upon our leafy couch, side
by side, for a long night's rest, that we might be well
prepared for the fatigues of the next day. Our good
old guide reclined himself at our feet, intending, as he
assured us, to keep one eye open, so that the fire should
not go out nor any harm befall us. We slept soundly,
and awoke just as the sunlight was gilding the tops of
the trees. We made our toilette as well as was possible under the circumstances; did justice to the breakfast which our guide helped us to prepare, and which
we all pronounced excellent; and by seven o'clock
took up our line of march. The path was narrow, so
that much of the way we were obliged to follow our
leader in single file. It was obscure, often determined
only by marked trees, some of which "Old Crawford"
alone could discover. But he confidently assured us
he knew the way. About nine o'clock, however, a
dense fog settled upon the side of the mountain. Our
guide was perplexed, and, bidding us stay where we
were, went off to explore. It was so cold that we
made up a good fire, and waited as patiently as
we could for his return. He got back in less than an
hour. He had found what he was sure he had not lost,
- his way. The cloud passed off; we started forward




JOURNEY TO WHITE MOUNTAINS.           53
with renewed alacrity, and soon reached the summit
of Mount Adams. From that elevation we could see
what remained to be accomplished, -a descent of several hundred feet into the valley between, and then
the ascent to the summit of Mount Washington, three
or four hundred feet higher than we had yet climbed.
Nothing daunted, we shouted and sang to wake up all
our energies, and then pressed on.  The mountain
cranberries were in perfection, and we regaled ourselves upon them freely. Just as we reached the. top
of a steep hill over which our path lay, we came upon
an extensive bed of them; and William' Ware threw
himself prostrate into their midst, crying out, "Come,
boys, let us browse." This future author of "Zenobia,"
"Julian," and their kindred works, was rather the merriest and wittiest of us all. We needed not a second
call, but instantly were lying as low as he, and eating
as freely of the not forbidden fruit; for, though we had
never tasted them before, " Old Crawford" assured us
mountain cranberries were wholesome.
About twelve we reached the little crystal lake that
wells up at the foot of the last ascent. It was then
called "Washington's punch-bowl;" but we. found it
filled only with "Adam's ale." We drank freely of
the beverage without adulterating it; for, though none
of us were then pledged to total abstinence, we cared
so little for "eau de vie," that the single bottle of it
which we had brought with us had not been uncorked,
and was carelessly left behind us on the top of Mount
Adams.




54         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
After refreshing ourselves with such food as we had
and the cool water from the aforesaid punch-bowl, we
commenced the ascent of the Peak.  It was much
steeper and more difficult than any we had yet
attempted; but we accomplished it in less than an
hour, for at one o'clock we stood upon the summit of
Mount Washington. There was no shelter there then.
Few adventurers had scaled that height before our
day. The road has been made and the Mountain
House built long since we were there. We found a
few names and more initials engraven upon the rocks,
and one brass plate, on which were the names of a
small party that had visited the spot the year before.
We found it quite cold, and a good deal of ice there;
but we were loath to quit the height we had reached
with so much toil. When we were about half way up
from our last stopping-place, an eagle of the largest
size sailed haughtily away from her lonely aerie, as if
indignant at our intrusion. I felt like making an apology, for it did seem as if none but winged bipeds had
any right there. But we were amply repaid for our
presumption. We had risen to a region above all
mists and clouds. There they lay far below us; and
as the rays of the sun struck upon their upper surfaces,
they looked just like banks of the whitest snow.
About two o'clock we reluctantly began our descent,
and between five and six reached the shed where we
lodged the night before. Two or three of our party -
Cushing and Coolidge and Emerson -pressed on to
the Willey House. The rest of us, with the old guide,




JOURNEY TO WHITE MOUNTAINS.            55
were too much fatigued to go any further; so we
passed a second night upon the mountain.
The next morning, by nine o'clock, we rejoined our
companions; and, mounting our horses, were in due
time back at " Old Crawford's" House.
Our return journey was even more pleasant than the
outward. We came by the way of Red Hill, Winnipiseogee Lake, and Smith's Pond. We stopped at an
inn in the small village of Centre Harbor. We ascended
Red Hill, which would be called a mountain if it were
not in the region of those that are so much more lofty.
From the summit, the prospect was most enchanting.
Smith's Pond we reached with some difficulty, owing
to the bad condition of the road, much of which was
"corduroy." But we found it an exceedingly beautiful
sheet of water, and concurred in approving the taste
of one of the old royal governors of the State, —
Wentworth, I believe, -in placing his summer residence upon the shore of it.
We did not hurry homeward, seldom travelling more
than twenty miles a day. Often we passed through
unfrequented roads; and, as there were six of us on
horseback, rather shabbily dressed, and two carried
fowling-pieces, and one a travelling barometer, we made
a somewhat formidable, and perhaps suspicious, appearance. Suffice it to say, the inhabitants of one small
hamlet of two or three houses were so much alarmed
that they fled at our approach.
One day - I think it was as we were going out - we
passed a man on horseback. Wishing to learn some



56         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
thing about the country through which we were travelling, I dropped behind my party and essayed to join
him. It was evident he did not incline to my company.
After putting various questions to him, which he
answered very shortly, I said to him, "Pray, sir, what
is the name of that tree?" pointing to a large one on
his side of the road. He replied, very gruffly, " There
is no need of your asking that question." "Why,
sir," I rejoined, "I surely should not have asked you
the question unless I had desired to know." "Ah!"
he said, with all the determination of manner that he
could command, "I can see through folks as well as
most men." This revealed to me his distrust of us,
and his fear. Laughingly, I said, "Who do you take
us to be?" and, not waiting for his answer, " On the
whole, I do not wonder much that you are suspicious
of us. We are rather an ill-dressed, shabby-looking
set of fellows, but you need not be afraid of us. We
are a party of collegians, just graduated at the University, and are off on an excursion to Mount Washington. Knowing that we shall have to make our way
through tangled woods and bushes, and sleep upon the
ground, we have put on our poorer instead of our
better clothes. We have brought with us those fowling pieces, that we may hear the reverberations of their
reports in the Gap, and perhaps shoot a few partridges
or rabbits. The other thing, which that young man
[pointing to Caleb Cushing] has in his hand, and
which, at a distance, may look like a gun, is a travelling
barometer. We are taking that with us in order to




JOURNEY TO WHITE MOUNTAINS.            57
ascertain the heights of the several mountains over
which we shall climb."  This account of ourselves
seemed to satisfy him that we were not banditti; and
he told me the name of the tree we had passed.
On one of the retired roads over which we passed,
we came to a small, neat house, around which were
the indications of a large dairy. So the purveyor of
our party went to the door, and inquired if we could
have some refreshment, telling the woman of the house
that bread and milk would be all we should desire to
have. The good woman, a little flustered at seeing
six highwaymen at her gate, replied hurriedly, "Oh,
yes, sir! oh, yes! come in, you can have that." So we
all went in, and took possession of her largest room.
She soon brought us bowls of the delicious beverage,
with bread that was equally good. We quickly emptied
the first bowls, and called for more; and despatched
their contents with little less delay. But when we
asked a third time for an equal portion, she seemed
surprised; and, placing it upon the table, she burst into
a laugh, exclaiming, - "Young gentlemen, I should
think you had never been weaned!?' We enjoyed the
joke as much as she did, and willingly paid her three
times as much as she asked for her milk.
Our excursion occupied just a fortnight. On the
last day we dined at an inn, somewhere within five or
six miles of Kennebunk. We sat awhile after dinner,
recounting the various incidents of our journey, and
discussing anew some questions upon which our opin3*




58         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
ions had been divided. At length the question was
raised, Which one of the seven had borne with most
patience and good-humor the discomforts with which
our pleasures had been slightly intermixed, - the joltings, the chafings which the inexperienced riders had
had to endure, and the repeated wettings that we all
had suffered? Each one put in his own claim for the
meed of praise, and defended it stoutly. The discussion was spirited, and continued until we were obliged
to start for home, when the question was put to vote,
and decided in favor of William Ware, nem. con. We
then soothed ourselves and each other, by passing unanimously the resolution, to wit: "That we seven were
the best behaved, most patient, courteous, good-natured
set of fellows that ever came together, though William
Ware was rather the best of the whole."
We were most cordially welcomed by our friends in
Kennebunk, especially by Dr. and Mrs. Emerson: we
spent the evening at their house, enjoying a feast of
music and a flow of soul. The next morning, Ware,
Cushing, Sewall, and Coolidge started for their homes.
I remained a day or two longer, and then joined Mr.
Benjamin Willis, Jr., of Portland, who called for me
on his way to Boston, whither he was going to be married to my sister Eliza. Their union was consummated
on the 19th of September. She was a bright, beautiful,
affectionate girl, and her departure from the old home
left us all feeling very sad.




CHAPTER VII.
BEGINS TO PREACH, AND TAKES A         SOUTHERN
JOURNEY.
TEACHES AT NAHANT.-MOTLEY, THE HISTORIAN, TAUGHT TO
READ.- FIRST PREACHING. - "APPROBATED."- BROOKLYN, CONN. - PREACHES IN NEW YORK. - PREJUDICE
AGAINST UNITARIANISM. -- VISITS THE SOUTH. - REV.
JARED SPARKS, AT BALTIMORE. -WASHINGTON AND RICHMOND.-FIRST SIGHT OF SLAVERY.-PREACHES IN NEW
YORK AGAIN. -ASSISTS REV. DR. CHANNING.-THINKS
OF PREACHING IN RICHMOND, VA.
DURING the summer of 1820, at the invitation
of several gentlemen of Boston, I accompanied
them to Nahant, which had then become a favorite
resort in the hot season, and spent three months. I
instructed their children during the week, and conducted the exercises of public worship each Sunday
morning. I remember that I enjoyed my little school,
and that, among my pupils, were some boys who have
since become distinguished men, - especially the Rev.
Robert C. Waterston, and the historian, John Lothrop
Motley. The last-named gentleman I met repeatedly
in Rome, in the spring of 1859. One evening I said
to him, "Mr. Motley, I think I am entitled to some
share of your great reputation."  "Well," said he,
"you may have all you can justly claim; prove property and take it away."  "Why," I continued, "have




60         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
you forgotten that I taught you to read?" "Did you?"
he rejoined with great hilarity; " you must have done it
well, for I have known how ever since."
As to my Sunday services, I presume they were more
beneficial to myself than to anybody else. It was a
good opportunity for me to practise. My audience was
not large, seldom more than thirty or forty in number,
for Nahant was not then what it has since become; but
they were, for the most part, individuals of refinement,
and my personal friends. I usually read a sermon of
some one of the popular preachers who had then published volumes of their discourses. I took pains, of
course, to select, each Sunday, such a one as I supposed
would be edifying to my hearers, and prepared myself,
as well as I could, to deliver it acceptably and impressively. This was the principal training that I had
for the pulpit. Three or four times I ventured to
deliver sermons of my own, and was greatly encouraged
and benefited by the friendly criticisms that they
elicited.
Early in the following December, I applied to the
Boston Association for their "approbation" of me
as a preacher.  They assigned me Ephesians, ii. 18,
"Through him we both have access by one spirit unto
the Father," as the text of a sermon they wished me to
write, and read to them at their next meeting, a fortnight afterwards. I did as they required. The next
meeting was held at the house of Dr. Channing. I read
my sermon, and received a certificate of the clerk of




BEGINS TO PREACH.              61
the Association, and the kind congratulations of the
fathers and brothers in the ministry.
My first sermon as an "approbated " minister of the
Gospel was delivered in Springfield, from the pulpit of
my particular friend, the late Dr. William B. O. Peabody.
I started from Boston the day after I had received the
approval of the Boston Association. I rode to Springfield in a chaise with my friend, the late Mr. Henry
Sterns, then a merchant in that town; and we were nearly
three days in accomplishing the journey, as his horse
was young, and he was unwilling to drive him more
than thirty-five miles a day.
Soon after my return to Cambridge, I was requested
to supply the pulpit in Brooklyn, Conn., for a few
weeks. The first Unitarian Church in Connecticut was
there established. It was composed of the majority of
the " First Ecclesiastical Society " in that town, which,
under the preaching of the Rev. Luther Willson, had,
a few years before, renounced the Orthodox creed and
the authority of the Consociation; and, after Mr. Willson left them, had sent to Cambridge for a preacher of
the Gospel as it was understood and expounded by
Drs. Channing, Ware, Worcester, and others. The
minority had seceded, and met for worship in a hall fitted
up for their use. I had first heard of this little Church,
in Hingham, while studying with Mr. Colman. He was
one of the council called, in the fall of 1817, to advise
and comfort this Church and their pastor, Mr. Willson,




62         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
under the persecution which they endured for a while
because of their defection from the faith of the Consociated Churches of Connecticut. On his return, Mr.
Colman gave me a full and very interesting account of
the trials of this Church and their minister, and awakened in my heart a strong presentiment that it would be
given to me to serve them in the Gospel ministry. So
when the summons came, in the winter of 1821, I did
not hesitate to obey it.
I went to Brooklyn in the latter part of March, and
preached to the people five or six Sundays. Their zeal
in behalf of the new faith which they had embraced,
and were endeavoring to maintain, awakened a lively
interest in their cause; and I found amongst them a large
proportion of very intelligent and conscientious Christians. At the end of my engagement, the Church and
Society gave me a unanimous invitation to settle with
them for life. I could not at once and peremptorily
decline their invitation, and yet dared not accept it
without consideration and the advice of friends. So
I left them with the promise to give them an answer in
the course of a few weeks. On my return to Boston and
Cambridge, all whom I consulted concurred with me
in the opinion that it would be inexpedient for one so
young and inexperienced to undertake the ministry in
a State where I should have the influence of all the
churches and ministers against me, and where I should
have no brethren of my own faith near to encourage
and help'  Accordingly, I addressed a letter to the
Church in Brooklyn, tenderly, but very decidedly,




BEGINS TO PREACH.               63
refusing to become their pastor. When I had deposited
my letter in the post-office, I said within myself, " How
little reliance is to be placed upon presentiments!"
On the 17th day of April, while I was staying in
Brooklyn, there fell the largest amount of snow I had
ever, seen. The roads were literally filled with it, the
stone walls in many places being covered, out of sight.
The next day I was upset five times in going two, and a
half miles out from the village to visit and comfort
that excellent man, Deacon Roger W. Williams. He
was declining slowly and sorrowfully to the grave; his
heart having been broken by the harsh denunciations
and severe treatment he had received from the original
Church in Brooklyn, of which he had been for many
years a deacon, and from the Consociation of Windham
County, with which that church was connected.
I returned to my rooms in Cambridge, and there
continued five or six weeks, -studying, writing sermons, and preaching every Sunday at Salem, Lynn, or
elsewhere.
Early in June, a message came from Dr. Channing to
Dr. Ware or to Stephen Higginson, Esq., the College
Treasurer, - who took so lively and active an interest
in the well-being of the churches and the well-doing
of the Cambridge divinity students, that we called him
"the Town Clerk of Zion," - a message came to one
or the other of those excellent men from Dr. Channing,
that he found himself unable, because of ill health, to




64         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
fulfil his engagement to preach three or four Sundays
to the First Unitarian Church in New York City,
then recently founded; and that he wished one of the
divinity students to be sent thither in his stead. I
was called upon to go. I shrank from encountering the
disappointment which I knew the people of the New
York Church would feel on seeing any one - especially
a stripling like myself —in the pulpit, instead of Dr.
Channing. But there was no one else who could or
would go, and so I went. We encountered a fearful
storm upon the Sound, by which we were driven back,
and delayed ten or twelve hours. However, I reached
the city in time, early Sunday morning, to prepare myself for the services of the day; and then first saw, and
preached in, the neat little chapel in Chambers Street.
I remained in New York four weeks or longer,
supplying the pulpit, and performing parochial duties
as well as I was able. It was my happiness to be
domiciled, the while, in the family of my cousin, Henry
D. Sewall, Esq., who lived in Franklin Street, then
" far up town." Broome and Grand Streets were then
the uppermost streets; Canal Street was not compactly
built up, and there were no omnibuses, nor gas-lights,
nor telegraphs, nor rail-roads. Steam-boats had only
recently been invented, and "The Chancellor Livingston" was the admiration of all men.
Mr. Sewall, one of the founders of the church, was a
man of much literary taste and culture, and, better
still, of deep religious sensibility. He gave his time
and his heart and soul to the cause of rational and




BEGINS TO PREACH.               65
liberal Christianity. He prepared a hymn-book for the
use of the worshippers at the chapel, and it was a collection vastly superior to any that was extant, until Dr.
Greenwood published his, which was scarcely, if anywise, better.  Mr. Sewall was encouraged by the
sympathy of his excellent wife; and he was blessed by
the co-operation of numbers of rare men and women.
There were the Hon. Henry Wheaton, afterwards United
States Minister to Holland, and author of some important works on law; William C. Bryant, the poet, and
since chief-editor of the " Evening Post;" Messrs. Henry
D. and Robert H. Sedgwick; and the Hon. Roger G.
Van Polanen, a Dutch gentleman of learning and refinement, and formerly a high official under the government of his own country. Besides these gentlemen
and their wives, there was Mrs. Philip Schuyler, one of
the most dignified, intelligent, and fascinating women
in the city. She spent the larger part of every winter
in New York, and was a confessor of Unitarianism.
Still, although the church comprised these and many
other very respectable and excellent people, the prejudice against the so-called new heresy was so strong
and bitter that it required no little determination and
moral courage to stand up against it. The strangest
stories were afloat respecting our belief and our unbelief. I went one day with Mr. Sewall to show our
chapel to an intelligent lady of his acquaintance. She
was pleased with the building, which was really quite
appropriate and tasteful. After examining the pulpit,
outside and in, "May I look at your Bible?" said she.
E




66          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
"Oh, certainly, Madam," was the reply. She turned
over the leaves; read a little here, and a little there.
Then she examined carefully the title-page. "Why,"
she exclaimed, witj great surprise, "it is the same as
ours."  "Certainly," we answered, "and not only may
all the articles of our faith be found in this volume, but
adequately expressed in the very words of Christ and
his Apostles, as they used them; which can be said of
the distinctive doctrines of no other Christian sect
that we are acquainted with."
Another day I was walking down Broadway, and at
a bookstore window, near the Park, saw a large number of persons gazing eagerly at a large sheet of paper.
I pressed towards it, and, when near enough, found that
it was an elaborately and elegantly printed list of all
the churches and places of worship in the city. The
Christian churches were named first, but ours not
among them. Then came, under the head of synagogues, first the two or three Jewish; after which, at
the bottom of the list, was The Unitarian Chapel.
This little incident affected me much at the time,
though I smile at it now; for it disclosed the misapprehension, prejudice, and hostility, against which, as
a minister of Unitarian Christianity, I should have to
contend.
At the expiration of my term of service,- another
gentleman, Mr. James Hayward, having been engaged.
to preach to the church as a candidate for settlement,I left New York, in company with my sister Louisa, on
a journey southward, for the purpose of seeing more of




BEGINS TO PREACH.              67
our country and of visiting fiiends in Baltimore, Washington, Alexandria, and Richmond.  If I remember
correctly, we went by steamer to New Brunswick,
thence by stage-coach to Trenton, and by steamer
again down the Delaware river to Philadelphia. We
were the whole day in accomplishing the trip. Six
coaches were employed in taking the boat's company
of travellers across New Jersey. We were so fortunate
as to be put into the foremost coach, in company with
five or six ladies and the venerable Samuel Coates, then
prominent amongst the patrons and directors of the
Philadelphia Hospital. It was precisely in the midst
of the season of flowers, when the high laurels, and the
magnolia, and tulip-trees were in full blossom. The
woods, through patches of which the road frequently
passed, were brilliant with their hues:and fragrant with
their perfume. I alighted twice from the coach and
gathered a profusion of the magnolias and the laurels
to fill the laps of my fellow-travellers.
We tarried in Philadelphia until after the following
Sunday, and visited the Water-works, the Market, the
Hospital, and other objects of special interest.  I
preached on Sunday forenoon and evening for Mr.
Taylor, and dined and spent several hours with him.
I found him to be a Scotch gentleman, a stern religionist, an earnest and somewhat dogmatic Unitarian.
Early in the following week we proceeded to Baltimore. There we were most cordially welcomed at the
house of Mr. Amos Williams, one of six brothers, sons
of Capt. Joseph Williams, of Roxbury, cousins of my




68         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
father, who, settled in Baltimore when young men, had
done much to promote the growth of the city, had'
gained wealth and social distinction there, and were
among the principal founders and supporters of the
Unitarian Church.
Rev. Jared Sparks was then the minister of the new
church, and an inmate of the family of Mr. Williams.
I passed a week there with him, and learnt how diligent and faithful a student he was, and how active and
able a champion of the Unitarian cause. He was then
publishing "The Unitarian Miscellany," a monthly
periodical of great value in its day, which was continued through six volumes, and the greater part of its
contents furnished by his pen. While staying with
him, I wrote an article on "A New Translation of the
Scriptures," which he published in his second volume.
It is worthy of note only as being the first composition
I ever committed to the press, excepting only, I
believe, a brief article on " Christian Liberality," published while with Mr. Peabody, in the " Springfield
Recorder."
I stayed long enough to supply Mr. Sparks's pulpit one
Sunday. The church, then recently built, was peculiar
in its structure, very expensive, and, after all, not well
adapted to its purpose. The pulpit was surmounted by
a dome, which seemed to swallow the voice of the
speaker, and then pour it down again upon his own
head. To me the effect was very peculiar and perplexing. It seemed as if the words I had just pronounced
fell back about my ears like water from a shower-bath.




BEGINS TO PREACH.              69
I could not be sure when I had uttered the sentence'before me. Fortunately, my first attempt was in reading the introductory hymn. I kept my eyes upon the
book, and diligently read aloud each line, giving as
little heed to the sound of my voice as possible.
When I next rose, which was to offer the prayer, sensible that I could neither hear myself nor be heard by
others, if I should speak as before, I took a new pitch,
spoke in my lowest tone. It happened to be just
adapted to the house, and I went through all the services in that tone, with little difficulty to myself and
apparently to the acceptance of my audience.
Early in the following week, my sister and I left our
hospitable relatives in Baltimore, for the city of Washington, distant thirty-five or forty miles. We travelled
in the public stage-coach, a clumsy, lumbering vehicle,
and took the middle seat that we might avail ourselves
of the windows over the doors to see as much as possible
of the country. I do not remember any thing in particular that attracted our attention, excepting one sight
that moved us deeply and first awakened thoughts and
feelings that a few years afterwards took shape and
gave direction to the whole course of my life. We
saw, standing. by the road-side, a row of negro men,
twenty or thirty in number, and soon perceived that
they all were handcuffed, and that the irons about their
wrists were fastened around a very heavy chain that
was passed between them and attached to the tail of a
large wagon, in which were bundles, apparently of
clothes, and some young children lying upon straw.




70         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
Four or five black women were passing along the line
and giving to each of the men a thick slice of coarse
bread. My first thought was that they were prisoners.
" Look," I cried to my sister, "see these prisoners!
What can they have been guiltyof, so many of them?"
Scarcely had I uttered the words, when the truth
flashed upon my mind. " Oh, no! Louisa, they are slaves.
They have probably been bought up by some slavedealer, and he is taking them  in this way on to
some more southern market."  We had heard of the
abomination of slavery and the internal slave trade,
but had not seen it before. The house-slaves in our
kinsmen's families in Baltimore seemed to us like any
other domestic servants, and had excited no remark.
But here the monstrous wrong stood palpably before
us. My sister gave way to the expression of her feelings of horror and indignation, and I responded with
all my heart.  "I reckon," said one of our fellowpassengers, "that you and the lady are from New
England."  "Yes, sir," I replied, "and I never before
felt so grateful as I do now that I was not born where
human beings can be bought and sold, and treated like
cattle; and that my eyes have not been accustomed to
such sights as that. I am ashamed of my country and
of my race." My earnest manner of speaking, and yet
more the deep emotions of my sister, evidently touched
the chords of a common humanity in the hearts of our
fellow-travellers. There was silence for a few minutes,
when the gentleman said, "I do not wonder you feel
so. It is bad. It is shameful. But it was entailed




BEGINS TO PREA CH.             71
upon us. What can we do?"   I did not then know
how to answer the question. So we said little more
upon the subject. And we jogged on, in saddened
mood, to the Capital of our Republic.
Here, too, were resident several of our relatives -
Dr. Frederick May and Dr. George W. May.     The
former, at whose house we were cordially invited to
stay, was a physician of eminence; the latter, a much
younger man, just getting into a good practice.
We tarried there a week, visiting our friends and the
public buildings, which were then fewer and much
smaller than they are now; and, of course, Mount
Vernon, which was then in a very much better state
of preservation than when I last was there, in 1856.
A small body of Unitarians had recently gathered
themselves into a church, and had fitted up a hall,
capable of holding three hundred people, over the
public baths, for their place of meeting. I was invited to preach to them, and did so one Sunday. Just
after I had taken my seat in the pulpit, I was surprised
and delighted to see the Hon. John Quincy Adams
walk modestly up the aisle, and take a seat in a conspicuous place. I was told he seldom failed to be there.
He was at the time Secretary of State, and an aspirant
to the Presidency. Yet he shunned not to declare his
faith in the doctrines of Unitarian Christianity, then
"everywhere spoken against," and after the way
which most men call heresy he publicly worshipped
the God of his fathers. I record this to his praise, as
his conduct in this respect contrasted most honorably




72         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
with that of too many of the prominent men of that
day, who were Unitarians in New England, but avoided
the odium of that sect in Washington, by attending
one or the other of the fashionable churches.
The next day, Louisa and myself proceeded to
Alexandria, there to visit a very dear friend, since
dead. I tarried only until Thursday; and then, leaving
my sister to divide the time of my absence between
our friends in Alexandria and Washington, I went on
by stage coach to Richmond, there to see the remnants
of the Jewish family, spoken of in the early part of
my memoirs, my excellent friends Catherine and
Slowey Hays.
My stay in Richmond was short, not exceeding a
week; and I returned to Washington in the same way
that I went. My stage companion for the first few
hours, or the only one whom I remember, was Judge
Brock. He did not seem much inclined to conversation. Once, as we were passing by a large cornfield, I
observed a black woman hoeing. She was wretchedly
clad, and looked squalid and woe-begone. Involuntarily I expressed the offence that the sight gave me,
adding that I was thankful I lived in a part of the
country where such sights of enforced degradation
were not to be seen. "Sir," said he, with considerable
severity of manner, "northern men will not be permitted to speak so freely and reproachfully of our institutions, about which they know so little." Of course I
waived the subject, for he was a much older man than
myself; and we talked but little to each other afterwards.




BEGINS TO PREACH.               73
Before reaching New York on my return, I accepted
an invitation from the committee of the Unitarian
Church to preach to them again, three or four Sundays.
I was entertained during my stay at the house of Mr.
Henry D. Sedgwick, who then resided in Cedar Street.
His excellent wife was Miss Jane Minot, whom I had
known from my early childhood. She was the only
daughter of Judge Minot, of Boston, whose pew at the
King's Chapel was very near my father's. I resided in
their family three weeks or more, and have every reason
to remember it with pleasure. While there, I became
somewhat acquainted with Miss Catherine Sedgwick,
who has since attained so high a place amongst American authors. She had just then published her first
work, "The New England Tale;" and I well remember with what intense interest her brothers, Henry
and Robert, awaited its reception by the public.
On my return to Boston, I gave up my room in Cambridge, and removed my books and study furniture to
my father's house in Federal Court. After preaching a
few weeks at Salem, Lynn, and elsewhere, I was invited
by the committee of the Church in Federal Street to
assist Dr. Channing, whose health was very feeble, one
month. At the close of the first engagement, I was
requested to renew it for three months more, which I
did. The arrangement was, that I should supply the
pulpii half of each Sunday, and hold myself in readiness to take the Doctor's place at any time when he
should feel too feeble to preach. It was, as I found, a
4




74         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
trying situation; for in several instances the people
came to hear Dr. Channing, then at the height of his
fame as a preacher, and were put off with the best that
I could do in his stead. Nevertheless, this engagement
brought me into an intimate relation to the man, whom
I venerated as much as any one I had then known. I
remember him   and his great kindness to me with
unfeigned respect and gratitude. His wise and friendly
criticisms of my sermons and prayers were invaluable
to me. And he did much to improve my manner of
reading hymns, in which he himself excelled.
There was at that time an association of the leading
men of his church, which met once a week for mutual
religious improvement, and to consult together about
plans of usefulness. It was my privilege to meet with
them, and listen to their conversations, which were
always upon high themes, and often called from the
Doctor his happiest and most precious utterances. I
remember it was at one of these meetings, after theatres
and public amusements had been the subject under consideration for several evenings, that the question was
raised whether popular lectures upon literary and
scientific subjects might not be made very attractive,
as well as useful, to very many who frequented the
theatre and balls for the want of some better occasions
for social enjoyment. Several doubted whether such
lectures would be largely attended, but the majority
believed that a great many people would be eager to
avail themselves of such opportunities to acquire useful
and entertaining knowledge. If I am not mistaken,




BEGINS TO PREACH.               75
this was one of the earliest movements that led to the
institution of courses of public lectures, - the Lyceum
and the Lowell Institute.
At the close of my term of service as Dr. Channing's
temporary assistant, some time in the winter of-1822,
Rev. Orville Dewey was invited to take the same
position.
While in Baltimore after my return from Richmond,
in July, 1821, I conferred with Mr. Sparks upon the
practicability of gathering a Unitarian Church in that
city. In January of 1822 I received a letter from him,
proposing that we should soon commence the enterprise. We entered into an arrangement that, soon
after the close of the session of Congress, of which he
was then one of the chaplains, I should come to Baltimore and supply his pulpit two or three Sundays, that
he might go to Richmond, make a reconnoissance, and
ascertain whether there were persons enough there,
favorably disposed, to warrant my following him and
commencing the foundation of a Church. How different might have been my course in life, if this plan had
been carried into operation! It does not seem possible;
but I might have become reconciled to slavery, or so
overborne by the influence of slaveholders as to have
been awed into silence respecting the great abomination, "the sum of all villanies." On the whole, I am
grateful to the Sovereign Disposer of events that I
was withheld from the great temptation.




CHAPTER YIII.
BROOKLYN, CONN.
His REASONS FOR GOING TO BROOKLYN.- ORDAINED IN BosTON. - BROOKLYN AND THE PARISH. - INSTALLED. - A
CHILD'S PROTEST AGAINST REV. )R. FREEMAN'S CHARGE.
- PROBABLE ROBBER. - SCHOOLS OF CONNECTICUT. -
MARRIES. -ECCLESIASTICAL USAGES. - VIEWS OF SUNDAY.
-HIS ONLY SILK GOWN AND BANDS. -THE LORD'S
SUPPER.- IMMERSION.- THE TRINITARIAN CHURCH. -
REFUSES CHAPLAINCY OF A REGIMENT.-DECLINES TO
PRAY AT A HANGING.
JUST after the above arrangement was made, about
the middle of the month of February, I was coming out of my father's house, on the way to the postoffice with a letter to Mr. Sparks upon the subject, when
lo! at the door I met Mr. John Parish and Mr. Herbert Williams, a committee from the Church in Brooklyn, Conn., sent to insist upon my becoming their minister. They were so earnest, so importunate, said so much
about the importance of maintaining the first Unitarian
Church in Connecticut, about the critical position of
their little band, and of the unanimity of their choice
of me to be their pastor, that I could not but feel that
theirs was indeed a loud call to me, in the providence
of God, to undertake the work of an evangelist in the
most "Orthodox " State in New England. The abovenamed good men waited a day or two for my answer.




BROOKLYN, CONN.               77
I spent the greater part of the night in revolving the
question in my mind, arguing pro and con in the
court of conscience. My father and mother strenuously
opposed my accepting the invitation to Brooklyn.
They could see only conflict, hard work and poverty,
before me there. All the friends whom I consulted
concurred with them in advising me to refuse. Even
Mr. George Cabot, whose opinion I greatly respected,
argued and urged to the same effect. Still, I could not
dispel from my heart the conviction that it was my
duty to take up the work which seemed to be given me
to do. I remembered the principle which I had always
insisted, in conversations with my fellow-students, ought
to govern a young minister in the selection of his field
of labor. I had often denounced the too common saying, that the loudest call came from the city churches,
or from those which would pay the largest salaries.
So, after earnest and prayerful consideration, I determined to accept the invitation from Brooklyn, and
informed the committee that I would make the trial for
a year.
In order that I might exercise at once all the functions of a pastor, - administer the ordinances, as well
as conduct the services of public Worship,-it was
thought advisable that I should receive ordination
before leaving Boston. Accordingly I applied to the
Churches of the Boston Association, to be ordained by
them. My request was promptly granted; and the 14th
day of March, at Thursday Lecture, was appointed to
be the time for the customary services.




78         LIFE OF SAMUEL.J. MAY.
On the 5th of March, our family were plunged into
a deep affliction. My sister, Eliza Sewall,- then the
wife of Mr. Benjamin Willis, of Portland,-who had
been sick several weeks, suddenly died, leaving a son
and a daughter, both less than five years of age. On
the same day, my father's venerable and excellent
uncle, Joseph Williams, of Roxbury, departed, in a
good old age. I had spent many happy days and
weeks in his family; and, though to him the event was
a release from the burdens of life, to us it left a sad
void. These bereavements, especially the loss of my
sister, made us all the more sad as we went on with
the preparations for my removal to what was then a
long distance, eighty miles by stage-coaches, from the
old home.
My mother got home from Portland on the 13th,
just in time to witness my ordination as an evangelist,
in Chauficy Place Church. Rev. Dr. Freeman preached
the sermon, President Kirkland gave the Charge, and
Rev. Henry Ware, Jr., gave the Right Hand of Fellowship.
The next day I left home for Brooklyn, via Providence, and reached there Saturday afternoon.  On
Sunday, the 17th, I commenced my labors as minister
of "the First Ecclesiastical Society of Brooklyn, Connecticut."
I found the Society, comprising about forty families,
made up of some of the most sensible and respectable
people in the town. All but half a dozen were plain
farmers, living on good farms, some of which their




BROOKLYN, CONN.               79
grandfathers, or remoter ancestors, had purchased of
the Indians, and reclaimed from the forest.
The village of Brooklyn was rather a pretty one. A
few years before, it had been made the county seat; so
that there were the court-house and jail, and sundry
hotels and stores, and a printing-office.  It was the
residence formerly of General Israel Putnam, of Revolutionary fame, and had been beautified somewhat by
his taste, or the taste of some of his family, who had
set out rows of elm and maple trees on either side of
the principal street, which, when I went there, were
well, grown, so as to cover the road with their shade.
The general's house was still standing; and the arm,
from which used to swing his tavern-sign, remained in
the crotch of the principal tree in front, and directly
opposite the steeple end of our meeting-house. That
structure was becoming venerable. It had been standing more than fifty years, and was built after the New
England fashion of that day, -a tall, slender spire, and,
as it seemed to me, more than commonly graceful, surmounted by a weather-cock, that once was gilded.
Although I engaged only for a year, I soon came to
feel that Brooklyn was probably to be my field of labor
for life, and I reconciled myself to it. I set about
earnestly and prayerfully the work that was given me
to do. In addition to the regular services of each
Sunday, for which I was left to provide alone, with
very seldom the relief of an exchange, I instituted a
weekly meeting at the houses of my parishioners, where
we conversed for an hour or two on the fundamental




80         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
doctrines and duties of Christianity, and I read to them
selections on the subjects under consideration, from the
writings of our best authors.
The opposition of my Orthodox neighbors was less
violent and unfair than. I expected. Still, there were
busily circulated throughout the community grievous
misrepresentations of the faith and the spirit of Unitarians. I perceived that these could not be overtaken
and corrected merely by my preaching to those who
would come to hear me. Accordingly, early in January,
1823, I commenced the publication of a small paper,
entitled " The Liberal Christian," which was published
somewhat more than a year, once a fortnight, eight
pages small quarto. Upon the pages of this periodical
I spread out before my neighbors throughout that
region explicit statements of our doctrines, and arguments in support of them. My labor was not for
naught. I received assurances and proofs that it did
good; and it brought to my acquaintance numbers of
persons living in different parts of the county and the
State, some of whom embraced the doctrines of Unitarians, and all of whom were disposed to encourage
religious inquiry, and maintain their freedom.
I had not been preaching many weeks, before my
attention was arrested by a staid, sensible-looking gentleman and lady, who came to church several Sundays,
and whose countenances were radiant with the interest
they took in what they heard. Very soon, they were
introduced to me as Squire Sharpe and his wife, of
Abington, a part of Pomfiret, - the Hon. George Sharpe,




BROOKLYN, CONN.               81
lately a member of the Senate of Connecticut. I confess to not a little exultation at seeing frequently in my
audience these persons from a neighboring town, who
were acknowledged of all men to be persons of very
sound sense and of elevated moral character. And
when they " took a pew," and actually joined the Society,
it was considered a great acquisition. They became my
parishioners, and cordially invited me to visit them,
which it became my official duty, as well as pleasure,
to do.
Soon after, I was walking one afternoon towards that
quarter of Brooklyn which adjoined Abington, when
I saw, descending a long hill, a large charcoal-cart,
driven by a man whose contour and gait seemed to be
that of my new friend, the Hon. Mr. Sharpe. I could
not think it possible; for I was a city boy, and had not
been accustomed to seeing gentlemen -members of
the Legislature, honorable senators -dressed in frocks,
working like day-laborers, especially as colliers, upon
whom in Boston I had been wont to look as a very low
class. But the nearer we drew to each other, the more
evident it became that my new and honorable friend
was the collier before me.  I remembered Burns's
poem, "a man's a man for a' that," and braced myself
up for the occasion. When near enough, we saluted
each other, and I drew off my glove to shake hands
with him. "Oh, no! " said he, with a hearty smile, " I
never give my hand to a fiiend, when it is so dirty.
My brother and I wish to clear up a four-acre wood-lot,
that we may plant it. The best way to dispose of the
F                 4*




82         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
wood is to reduce it to coal: and we long since learnt
the wisdom of Dr. Franklin's maxim,'If you would
have any thing done well, you must do it yourself;'
so we have gone into it. It is a dirty job, but we shall
get through in three or four weeks, and-then you must
come and visit us." We parted, I a wiser and stronger
man; having learnt that no labor is degrading, and that
it is not the exterior that makes the man.
The members of the Society, though assured of my
willingness to remain permanently with them, were
desirous of putting an end to the rumor often sent
through the community, "Mr. May is. about to leave
the Brooklyn Church." Moreover, they were confident that the services of an installation, conducted
by some of the most distinguished men of our denomination, would make a salutary impression upon the
public mind. I therefore yielded to their wishes.
The installation took place on the 5th of November,
1823. Rev. Dr. Bancroft, of Worcester, was the moderator of the council; Rev. Dr. Lowell, of Boston, was
the scribe. Rev. Luther Willson, of Petersham, the
former pastor, offered the introductory prayer; Rev.
James Walker, of Charlestown, preached the sermon;
Rev. Dr. Freeman gave the Charge; Rev. William
B. O. Peabody, of Springfield, gave the Right Hand of
Fellowship; Rev. Dr. Thayer, of Lancaster, addressed
the people; and Dr. Parkman, of Boston, offered the
concluding prayer.
The audience was as large as the meeting-house




BROOKLYN, CONN.                83
would comfortably hold, and the impression made upon
them was obviously favorable and strong. Historical
truth requires me to. make one exception. A little girl
about six years old, who was very fond of me, and one
of my pets, was much offended at the Charge. Dr.
Freeman's manner was solemn and earnest. She was
very intent upon him for a few minutes, then, bursting
into tears, she rushed out of the house, crying quite
aloud, "That old man is scolding my dear Mr. May,
and I won't hear him any more."
With the new impetus thus given me, I pressed forward in the way of my duty. Regarding Jesus of
Nazareth as the best teacher of Christianity, I determined to make his words and his character the standard
of my faith and practice.
Dr. Noah Worcester had fixed my attention upon the
teachings and example of Christ, in respect to evildoers, violent, injurious persons, and personal enemies.
His "Solemn Review of the Custom of War," and his
articles in the "Friend of Peace," had convinced me
that the precepts, spirit, and example of Jesus gave no
warrant to the violent, bloody resistance of evil; that
wrong could be effectually overcome only by right,
hatred by love, violence by gentleness, evil of any kind
only by its opposite good. I preached this as one of
the cardinal doctrines of the Gospel, and endeavored
especially to show the wickedness and folly of the custom of war.
An incident occurred which enabled me to put in
practice this principle. As some uncertainty hangs




84         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
over it, I should not record it, were it not that the
story has been often told by others, sometimes even
from the pulpit, and published, with more or less exaggeration. I shall now therefore state the facts, exactly
as I have always stated them, and leave others to make
out of them whatever may seem probable.
Early in the summer of 1824 I went to Springfield,
to visit my fiiends there, and to exchange with my
friend Peabody. I travelled by Mr. Herbert Williams's
horse and chaise, and had brought his wife or his sisters,
on the way, to visit their relatives in Leicester. On my
return, wishing to travel from Springfield to Leicester
(about fifty miles) in the course of the day, without
tasking my borrowed horse too severely, I started before
four o'clock, A.M. When about half-way across Wilbraham Plain, - three or four miles from any inhabitants,
and near the spot where a Mr. Lyon had been robbed
and murdered a few months before, - I espied a man
in the road before me, whose appearance and manners
I did not like, and who seemed to be a less desirable
acquaintance the nearer I drew to him. He was illdressed, and his clothes looked as if he had slept upon
the'ground. He carried in his hand a short, heavy
stick, or bludgeon, and was lingering, or walking very
slowly, through a patch of dense woods. He looked
round at me occasionally, as if waiting for me to come
up. My apprehension was that he intended to strike
down my horse, and then attack me. The fear may
have been wholly without foundation, but I acted as if
that were really his intention. Just before my horse's




BROOKLYN, CONN.              85
head came within reach of his bludgeon, I stopped and
said, " Friend, you are going my way: will you not ride
with me?" He hesitated, was embarrassed, and then
replied, "Don't care if I do." "Well, then," I continued, "come round on this side and get into the chaise."
He did so, and we jogged on together. It was some
time before I could get any thing out of him. He
looked like a bad man, but did not seem like a very
ignorant one. He was a Scotchman, or from the north
of England. Whither he was going, what was the
object of his journey, - I could not learn. So I talked
to him on various subjects, suggested by the objects
that we passed, until at length he became more easy
and communicative. About eleven o'clock I stopped,
intending to give my horse a long rest, and in due
time to get some dinner. I invited my fellow-traveller
into the hotel with me, and said he should be welcome
to dine with me if he would. He declined, slunk away,
and kept out of sight, until at one o'clock, when I came
out, he was there, and resumed his seat by my side.
The afternoon ride passed very much as the morning
had done. My suspicions of his ill intention toward
me faded from my mind, and I rested in the conclusion
that he was only a poor, unfortunate man who did not
choose to make a confidant of a stranger, and so held
himself in reserve. Between five and six, P.M., we
reached the village of Leicester. Pointing to Dr. Nelson's house, half a mile off to the left, I said to my
companion, " Well, sir, we must part here, for I am going
to stay at that place to-night." If he had only replied




86         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
in some common way, - if he had said, "Thank you, sir,"
or "I am much obliged to you, you have done me a
great kindness," - I should never have thought more of
the occurrence than that I had helped a poor, wayfaring
man some forty-five or fifty miles over his road. But
he got out of the chaise, took hold of the handle of the
dasher, and, looking earnestly at me, said, with emphasis and emotion, "Thank you, sir: you probably never
will know the benefit you have conferred upon me today." Instantly, the impression his first appearance in
the morning made upon me was revived. I felt sure
that he had intended me harm, and that I had averted
his evil purpose. He turned off into an opposite road,
and walked rapidly away. I longed to ask him what he
meant by his peculiar words and emphasis, but I was withheld. So he went away, carrying his secret with him.
I had heard much of the common schools of Connecticut, and of the large fund by which they were supported. So I went to reside in that State, expecting to
find the system of public instruction there the best, as
well as the most popular, of any in our country. I very
soon began to pay attention to the education of the
young; and soon after my installation, by which the
people were assured that I had become a permanent
resident amongst them, they elected me to be one of the
town school committee. In that office I continued so
long as I lived in Connecticut, for it was customary in
that, as in all the New England States, to commit the
care of the schools to the ministers of religion.




BROOKLYN, CONN.                87
I determined to do my duty as well as I knew how.
So I informed myself thoroughly of the condition of
the schools, - the houses, furniture, books, and, above
all, the qualifications of the teachers. In all respects I
was disappointed, and did not conceal my feeling of
dissatisfaction; and even ventured to express the opinion that the School Fund was not operating to increase,
but rather to diminish, the popular interest in the
schools.
My associates upon the committee were anxious to
improve. the character of the schools in Brooklyn. In
the first place, we proposed to make the examination of
candidates for the office of teachers more thorough and
real, so as to keep out all such as were undoubtedly
incompetent. The first winter we rejected six who
offered themselves, so that we examined fifteen teachers
to supply our nine schools. The next year we rejected
four. This brought upon the school committee the
reputation of being "mighty strict," and kept away
many who were conscious of their incompetency.
On the 1st of June, 1825, I was married to Lucretia
Flagge Coffin, second daughter of Peter Coffin, Esq.,
of Boston. She was born in Portsmouth, N.H., where
her father was a merchant until 1810 or 1812, when he
removed to Boston. Her mother was Anne Martin, a
daughter of Thomas Martin, whose father was a Huguenot. We lived in a hired house upon Brooklyn Green,
until the fall of 1828, when the house was sold, and we
returned to board in the family of Mr. John Parish.




88         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
I sought to learn the whole "Truth as it is in
Jesus," from the mvords and the life of the Teacher
himself.
It soon seemed to me that Christianity had been
encumbered with many dogmas that really had-nothing
to do with it, and that, notwithstanding Christ's reproofs
of pharisaism, the Church still cared more for "the
mint, anise, and cummin" of ceremonial observances
than for "the weightier matters of the Law,"-the
keeping holy the Sabbath day, partaking of the Lord's
Supper, and submitting to the ordinance of baptism,
more than doing justly, loving mercy, and walking
humbly. I conformed for a year or two to "the usages
of the Church," without questioning any of them. I
saw them to be good in themselves, or that they might
be so, as means and instruments of spiritual culture;
but mischievous, worthless, when regarded, as they too
generally seemed to be, as the essentials of religion.
I valued the Sabbath as a day of rest from the ordinary cares of life; of sacred leisure secured to us by the
religious institution of the Jewish law-givers, adopted
from that by the founders of the Christian Church, and
perpetuated by the consent of almost all the sects. I
felt and preached that the time, thus wrested from the
secular concerns of life, ought to be by each one assiduously consecrated to his religibus improvement. But
I saw and deplored the effect of the superstitious
notions, still prevalent in Connecticut, respecting the
sacredness of the day itself, and of the strict observance
of it that was rigidly enforced. One of the charges




BROOKLYN, CONN.               89
alleged by his opponents against my predecessor, Rev.
Luther Willson, was that, on-a certain Saturday evening, having reached home from a journey, after sundown, and finding that his family were destitute of such
wood as could be burned in their fireplaces, he sawed
and split up enough to last until Monday! The austere
and gloomy aspect given to the day, and to the whole
of religion, made Sunday repulsive, especially to the
young. A little boy, about six years of age, - Samuel
S. Greeley, my nephew, who lived several months in
my family after the death of his excellent mother,_said to me one Sunday, "Uncle, I hate Sunday, I do;
it is a wooden day." This led me to think much of the
better way of employing the time of children on the
Sabbath. To this conclusion I came, and have acted
upon it, as far as I have been able, ever since; viz., it is
incumbent upon all who have the care of children to deyote a suitable portion of every Sunday to their thorough
religious instruction. When presented properly by a
parent or teacher who really loves religion, there is no
subject in which even quite young children become so
deeply interested, and to which they will for so long a
time give their closest attention. Then, children should
be taught to consider that their parents, and older persons
generally, who value, as they ought, the opportunity
which Sunday affords them for religious improvement,
will not like to have the quiet of the day unnecessarily disturbed, and therefore they should make as little
noise as possible. Children ought. not to be wholly forbidden to play on Sunday; for it must be as pleasing to




90          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
the heavenly, as it is to the earthly, father, to see them
enjoying themselves. But they can readily understand
that their amusements ought not to be such as will
interfere with the comfort of older persons, and prevent
them from making the improvement of the hours of
Sunday which they wish to do. Therefore it should be
enjoined upon children, that their Sunday plays should
be as quiet and noiseless as possible.
When I was ordained, my excellent friend, Mrs.
Cary, afterwards my step-mother, gave me the elegant
silk gown which formerly belonged to her first husband, and which he wore during his short ministry as the colleague of Dr. Freeman, of King's Chapel.
My dear Jewish friends, the Misses Hays, also gave
me several pairs of very nice bands.*  So I commenced my labors as a preacher, attired, as was customary at that time, especially with city preachers,
in a flowing black gown, and very white bands. But I
had hardly become accustomed to wearing them, before
the question arose in my mind, whether dressing up in
a particular and somewhat imposing garb, in order to
teach Christianity, might not have the effect to separate
religion from ordinary, every-day life, and help to make
it appear something peculiar to Sunday and the Church.
I thought it might, I feared it would, have that effect;
and so I threw my bands -aside, and gave my gown to a
poor woman who needed a comfortable dress.
* In a letter from Slowey Hays, which accompanied this gift,
she said, "I have made them, dear Sam, of stiff materials, that
they may prick your chin, should you ever say aught unkind of
my dear people."




BROOKLYN, CONN.                91
For several years after my settlement, I administered
the Lord's Supper in the way that had long been practised in the Church, and was then the universal custom,
at the close of the forenoon service, after the benediction, to those only who were called communicants.
They were a class of persons admitted to this privilege
by vote of those who already belonged to the class, on
condition of their making before the whole congregation
an acknowledgment of their faith.
The Church of Brooklyn had put aside the Creed,
and substituted in its stead a Covenant which set forth
only the simple, great doctrines of Christ and his apostles,
which all Christians of every denomination acknowledge
they taught. This appeared to me an advance in the
right direction. It removed, from the approach to the
Lord's Table, that impediment which had kept away
many believers in God, and in Christ as His beloved
Son, who could not assent to the doctrines of the Trinity, or the vicarious punishment of Jesus. But ere long
the question arose, by what authbrity or right a portion
(usually a small portion) of a Christian society assumed
to themselves the exclusive privilege of one of the ordinances of Christianity. If partaking of the Lord's Supper was a means of spiritual improvement, and not the
seal of sanctification, I could not see why any, why all,
persons who desired to bring themselves under the influences of that ordinance, should not be freely permitted
to do so without the interposition of any conditions, excepting perhaps-the avowal of the desire and intention to
do so. I could not see why there should be this bar to the




92         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
Lord's Table, any more than to the House of God, and
the offices of prayer and singing psalms, I could get
no evidence that all the persons who were admitted to
the Communion were more correct in their belief or
more obedient in their lives than many who were
excluded. And then, if the outsiders were not so good,
but desired to become better, it seemed to me our duty
was to encourage and urge them onward, instead of
putting the slightest hinderance in their way.
The question agitated my mind for some time, and
was made the subject of much conference with "the
members of the Church," as those who partook of
the Lord's Supper were called. Most of them came
readily to see and acknowledge that they had been led
into an unwarranted assumption of privilege. They
therefore consented that, while we should continue "to
admit persons to the Church" in the formal manner
that had long been customary where persons desired to
be so admitted, we should not forbid any others to
come to the Lord's Table who wished so to do, without
having submitted to the ceremony of admission.
It soon became my practice, at the close of the forenoon service on "Communion Sunday," to announce
that the Lord's Supper was then to be administered,
and to invite all whose hearts moved them so to do to
remain and commune with us. Such, however, was the
influence of the long-established custom, that few did
so without having been previously "admitted to the
Church."
After a while, with the advice and consent of the




BROOKLYN, CONN.               93
church members, I discontinued the preparatory lecture
which used always to be delivered on the Friday afternoon before Communion Sunday. This was done for
the reason that such an observance tended to separate
this ordinance from the other services of public worship,
and to hold it up to the people as something more
sacred, more to be held in awe, than prayer and the
praise of God. So we substituted for the preparatory
lecture once a month the weekly meeting for mutual
religious improvement, in order that we might help one
another to live, as well as speak, the praise of God, and
make life itself a continual prayer.
On my removal to South Scituate in 1836, I induced
the Church there to adopt the same plan, I believe with
good effect. And when I came to be the minister of
the Church in Syracuse, I advised that the administration of the Lord's Supper should constitute the whole
service of public worship on the forenoon of the first
Sunday of every other month; and that "every person
present, who loves the Lord Jesus Christ, and who feels
his indebtedness to him for all he has done and suffered
for the redemption of mankind, should be invited to
commemorate his death and the divine virtue and
grace which he manifested in that hour of his utmost
trial, by partaking of the Lord's Supper."
This plan was at once adopted, and the ordinance has
been so administered ever since I have lived here, now
nearly nineteen years. I am unable to ascertain what has
been, on the whole, the effect here of my mode of treating and conducting this sacrament. For I have reason




94         L`IFE OF SAMUEL J. MA Y.
to believe that, in this region of our country, the Christian sacraments have never been held in as high esteem as
they used to be throughout New England. And then
again it is said that the regard for these ordinances is
everywhere declining, and in most, if not all, other sects,
as well as our own. I regret that more persons have not
been, and are not now, more interested in the Lord's
Supper as a simple memorial of the faith and the love, -
the self-sacrificing love of the Founder of Christianity.
It is to me an appropriate and an affecting rite. But
many there are, especially those who were formerly
of the "Society of Friends," who say they see no
significance in eating a piece of bread and drinking a
sip of wine. Our congregations are generally about as
large on Communion Sundays as on others, although a
few persons absent themselves. Those present seem
interested; and quite a number have told me they love
to be there and to hear my delineations of the character
of Jesus Christ, although they have never been moved
to partake of the bread and wine.
About ten years ago, Hon. Horace Mann happened to
be with us on a Communion Sunday. I observed that
he was much affected. As we were walking to my
house, he said, "Never before have I seen much significance in the Lord's Supper; never before have I felt
moved to partake of it: but to-day I have been affected
by your representations of its intention, and your delineations of the character of Christ as revealed in the
hour of his death."  "Then," I said, "I hope you
joined with us in partaking of the bread and wine."




BROOKLYN, CONN.               95
"No," he replied, "I did not. I was withheld by the
influence of     n   nn        n       ctin the old notions and feelings respecting the
Lord's Supper, which I imbibed in my childhood from
Dr. Emmons, under whose ministry my religious education commenced."
But we. must go back again to Brooklyn, where many
of my heresies began.
Amongst those of my congregation there who refrained
from the Lord's Supper, notwithstanding my cordial
invitations to it, was one of the best men in the
Society or the town, Mr. Nathan Witter. He was
seldom absent from meeting on the Lord's day, always
remained to witness the administration of the Supper;
but never partook of the bread and wine. I soon
inquired the reason of his conduct. He informed me
that he deemed it wrong for any one to partake of the
Lord's Supper who had not been baptized, and thus
regularly admitted into the Church of Christ; and that
he had never been baptized according to his understanding of the ordinance of baptism. "True," said he,
" I was sprinkled when an infant, at the request of my
parents; but I was unconscious of the act. It was not
the baptism of a believer; and therefore, I think, not
a proper and sufficient introduction into the Church of
Christ." I argued with him that the quantity of water
used in baptism could not be of any importance if the
heart and conscience were right towards God; and that
if his parents had fulfilled the promises they made at
his baptism, and had brought him up "in the nurture
and admonition of the Lord," he was a member of the




96         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
Church, as all ought to be, from his birth. But my
arguments were of no avail. He was a very staid,
conscientious man, somewhat of the stern, puritanic:ll
sort, and must needs govern himself by his own con victions. He expressed a strong desire to become a "( communicant," but would not, excepting in the way that
seemed to him scriptural and proper.
After some consideration of the case, I offered, with
the consent of the brethren, to conform to his ideas of
what would be right, to baptize him by immersion,
and receive him into the Church on his own profession
of faith in Christ. He objected that he feared this would
be deemed irregular, and that I should bring upon myself
the censure of the churches. Dr. Whitney had refused
to rebaptize him; and Mr. Willson, under the circumstances in which he was placed, thought it not expedient
for him to immerse him. Although I could foresee no
evil that could come of my yielding to the conscientious
scruples of a good man, I thought it best not to act
unadvisedly. Accordingly, I addressed letters to Rev.
Dr. Bancroft, of Worcester, and Rev. Dr. Thayer, of
Lancaster, Mass., both of whom had assisted in my
ordination. I stated the case to them as fully as seemed
necessary, and intimated my desire to conform to the
wishes of Mr. Witter. Each of those wise and excellent men replied tenderly to my inquiry, expressed sympathy for Mr. Witter, but concluded by advising that,
on the whole, it would be better for me not to comply.
So doing would be contrary to the long-established
usage of the Protestant Churches. It would seem to




BROOKLYN, CONN.               97
be an assent to the insufficiency of infant baptism, and
might introduce disorder into our churches.
Such advice, for a while, held me in suspense. But
the longer I saw that good man submitting without
complaint, though sorrowfully, to what he deemed a
great privation, the more unwilling was I that he should
suffer it. And so, insisting on our right as an independent Church to conduct the services of public worship
and to use the ordinances in the way that we thought
would conduce most to the edification of our own
members, with the consent of the Brooklyn Church I
invited the gentleman to be baptized by immersion,
and so become a member of our Church in the way he
thought right.
He was grateful for our condescension, and, not
without hesitation on our account, consented to our
proposal. Notice was accordingly given from the pulpit one Sunday that, at three o'clock that afternoon,
at a certain place, Nathan Witter would profess his
faith in the religion of Jesus Christ, be baptized by
immersion, and received into the Church. Of course a
large number of people, of the other congregations in
the town, as well as our own, went in due season to
the appointed place. It was a bright, beautiful afternoon in summer, in a picturesque meadow at a graceful
bend of the small river called Blackwell's Brook, where
there was a small pebbly beach, over which we could
walk, not too suddenly, into the depth of the stream.
After a few introductory remarks and prayer, I read
to Mr. Witter the Church Covenant, and, after his
5               G




98         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
audible assent thereto, I took him by the arm, and
walked with him into the stream until the water was
up to our waists; and then, pronouncing the form of
words prescribed by our Lord, I immersed the rest
of his body.
The scene was new to myself. I had never witnessed
such an administering of baptism by another, and never
performed the service in that way but once before. I
was almost overcome by my own emotions, and saw
that the people were excited above measure. So soon,
therefore, as I reached the bank, I admonished them
that we ought not to take it for granted that our emotions were purely religious feelings; that the significance
of baptism, administered, as they had just seen, by
immersion, was no higher than when conferred by
sprinkling. That we all were unusually excited, because
the performance was a novel one to most of us, and the
beautiful surroundings and circumstances of the occasion conspired to give it solemnity; but that we might
be solemnized without being sanctified, and might have
our religious feelings greatly excited without really
giving our hearts to God. And I pressed it upon them
not to leave that spot without the assurance that it was
not the putting of water upon the body in small quantity or large that was acceptable to God or essential to
our salvation, but the denying of all ungodliness and
worldly lusts, and living soberly, righteously, and
piously in all the relations and intercourse of life.
It being understood, from my procedure in this case,
that I held myself in readiness to administer this sacra



BROOKLYN, CONN.               99
ment in the way that seemed right and scriptural to
the recipient, I was several times called upon, while I
continued in Brooklyn, to baptize by immersion; and
during my too short ministry in South Scituate I
admitted a good man and his wife to the Church at the
same time, by immersing him in the river and by
sprinkling her on the bank.
The Orthodox portion of the original Brooklyn
Church, being the smaller, were obliged to leave the old
meeting-house in our possession; and, after worshipping awhile in a hall, they built them a small house,
capable of holding about two hundred persons. In
due time, they invited a candidate, the Rev. Mr.
Edson, to settle as their pastor. Knowing that an
ordination was an occasion likely to bring together a
larger concourse of people than could be accommodated
in their small meeting-house, our Society tendered to
them the use of our house for that day. The offer was
gratefully accepted. People came from all the neighborhood to witness the solemnities, and filled the old
meeting-house to its utmost capacity. A prominent,
eloquent, and very zealous minister had been invited to
preach on the occasion. He came fully prepared, as he
felt in duty bound, to denounce the great heresy which
had ousted the true Church of Brooklyn from its old
home. He arrived but a few hours before the services
began, and learnt, to his no little discomfiture, that he
was to deliver his philippic against Unitarianism from
the pulpit of the Unitarian Church, which had been
graciously lent for the occasion. Being a gentleman




100        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
of quick sensibility to the courteous and right, he was
made very uncomfortable by the predicament in which
he found himself. He tried, but was not successful in
his attempts, to qualify somewhat the severity of his
condemnation of us. And I really pitied him so much
in his awkward embarrassments, that I forgave his
uncharitableness, and felt not the point of his censures.
A bare majority of the communicants under the old
regime seceded with the Orthodox. In virtue of that
majority, they claimed to be the Church of the First
Ecclesiastical Society in Brooklyn, Conn., though they
could not deny that we were that society. As the
church records and communion vessels were left at Dr.
Whitney's house, where they had always been kept, we
forbore awhile from pressing our claims to them. But
so soon as the Orthodox party had organized as the
"First Trinitarian Church and Society in Brooklyn,"
and had settled a minister under that title, at my suggestion a committee of our Church made a written
proposal to their Church, that we would appoint our
Communion Service on the month alternate to that on
which they pleased to have theirs, and would use the
sacred vessels in common, always returning them after
use to Dr. Whitney for safe-keeping. To this proposal,
they replied that they did not know who we were,
and would not lend their vessels to be used for any
such purpose.
Our prompt rejoinder was, that we were the Church
of the First. Ecclesiastical Society in Brooklyn, and




BROOKLYN, CONN.              101
that we demanded of them certain sacramental vessels
belonging to us which were known to be in their possession. That we denied utterly their claim to them;
but, as we wished to live in peace and in neighborly
kindness, we would consent that they should get the
property in their hands belonging to us properly
appraised by a competent person, and we would either
pay half of the sum so appraised and take the vessels,
or they should pay us half the sum and keep them.
We added that, if they would not consent to this way
of settling the question between us, we should seek
redress by the agency of the law. This produced the
desired effect. A sum was named, the half of which
we thought it not best to pay. So they kept the vessels and paid us the half, with which we were able to
purchase a very neat and suitable communion set.
Thus all strife between us ended.
I had no religious intercourse with the members of
the Orthodox Church, nor ministerial intercourse with
their pastor. But I sought to establish and maintain
friendly relations with all my neighbors, and was quite
successful. They invited me to their houses as a visitor, and they visited me in return.
The prominent physician of the town, Dr. Waldo
Hutchins, was a member of the Orthodox Church, and
his father and all his relatives in neighboring towns
belonged to the same denomination. But he was my
medical adviser and personal friend. Four or five
years after our acquaintance commenced, he was taken
sick and died. When conscious that he was approach



102        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
ing the grave, he sent for me to converse and pray with
him. He begged me to visit him often, and sent for
me once at midnight. The morning after his decease, I
was informed that he was to have a public funeral, and
that he had requested his wife and father that I might
be called on to preach the sermon, naming his father's
minister at Killingly, and two other Orthodox ministers
and particular friends, as those whom he wished should
officiate in the other services at his house and in the
Church. As I expected, and foretold his afflicted family, those gentlemen refused to appear with me in public as a Christian minister. I therefore advised that
another should be requested to preach in my stead, and
I be allowed to take my place, as I could sincerely,
among the mourners. But neither the wife nor the
father would consent. The dying request of the dear
departed one must be complied with, and they therefore begged me to perform all the services. A large
concourse of personal and professional friends attended
the funeral, among them several of the Orthodox ministers of the adjoining towns; and, out of regard to the
family, some who had refused to take any part with me
were obliged to hear my prayers and listen to my sermon. This was a lesson they did not expect would be
given them, and they never forgot it.
As a friend of education, and of temperance, the
Orthodox men and ministers of Brooklyn and the vicinity united with me in labors for the promotion of
those great and good objects. And some joined me in
the Peace Society, formed in August, 1826, to co-oper



BROOKLYN, CONN.              103
ate with Dr. Worcester and his followers; who were endeavoring to abolish the custom of war.
Brooklyn was the county town.  The court-house
and jail were there. Several sessions of the different
courts were held there every year; and lawyers and
other gentlemen came thither from all parts of the State,
with many of whom I became acquainted, and found
some of them to be very liberal as well as educated
men.
Our meeting-house was the largest building in the
place, and therefore county agricultural, masonic, temperance, and other conventions, were often held in it;
and I was sometimes called upon to officiate at them.
This of course made the only Unitarian minister in
Connecticut more widely known to the people.
A year or two after my settlement, I was elected
chaplain of the regiment; but I declined the office,
because I told the colonel I could not pray that the
soldiers might do the very thing they would be mustered to do, but could only pray that they might " beat
their swords into ploughshares, and their bayonets into
pruning-hooks, and learn war no more."
Not long afterwards, a man was found guilty of the
most atrocious murder of his wife, and was condemned
to be hanged. I had no doubt of his horrid guilt, and
visited him often in his cell, endeavoring to soften his
hardened heart and lead him to repentance. The sheriff
waited upon me and invited me to officiate at the gallows. I inquired if it was the request of the condemned man that I should do so. He said no, but




104        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
that he had come in behalf of the State. Then I told
him that I could not comply. I would go if the
wretched criminal invited me, as the sympathizing
friend of a very wicked brother man; but that I could
not be, or seem to be in any wise, the agent of the State
to do what I did not'think the State had any right to
do. This led to an earnest discussion of the propriety
of the death penalty. I pressed the sheriff with such
arguments as I then wielded against the infliction, until
he was much moved and expressed a desire to be excused from the awful duty. I afterwards learnt that his
heart failed him at the last, and he left it for a stolid
deputy to do the deed.




CHAPTER IX.
BROOKLYN, CONN., CONCLUDED.
THE TEMPERANCE MOVEMENT. -BEGINS TO PRACTISE AND TO
PREACH TOTAL ABSTINENCE. - HIS "RAISING" WITHOUT
SPIRITUOUS LIQUORS.-WILLIAM LADD.-FIRST EDUCATIONAL CONVENTION. -MEETS A. BRONSON ALCOTT.
LECTURES ON EDUCATION. -A POWERLESS HORSE.CALLED TO PROVIDENCE.-RESOLVES TO STAY IN BROOKLYN.
IN May, 1826, I attended the anniversaries in Boston.
Amongst them I attended the annual meeting of
the Massachusetts Society for the Suppression of Intemperance, and afterwards a meeting of ministers called
together in the vestry of the First Church, the Chauncy
Place Church, to consider what was our especial duty as
ministers. Several things were said that moved me
deeply. At length Dr. Lowell rose, and, having added
a few words in further delineation of the frightful ravages of intemperance, said, with his sweet solemnity of
manner: " We can at least do one thing: we can ourselves set a good, yes, a perfect, example. Let us abstain
wholly from the use of whatever can intoxicate. If
such an example should be generally followed, we may
be sure the evil we deprecate would be extirpated from
the communities in which we live. I know not that
this can be done by any other means. This expedient
5*




106        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
is proposed: let us try it faithfully, at any expense of
discomfort, at any sacrifice."
I probably have not reported exactly his words: the
above was the meaning of what he said. My determination was formed at the close of his speech.
It had been my habit up to that time, occasionally,
at noon on Sunday especially, to take a glass of wine,
and to drink a tumbler of cider every day with my dinner; but at that moment these indulgences were renounced. Whether they-were salutary or not I cared
not to inquire. In the spirit of St. Paul, I said " If wine
cause my brother to offend, I will not drink wine while
the world standeth, lest I cause my brother to offend."
On my return home, I announced to my good wife
my determination that no more wine or cider should be
used in my family, and consecrated a hamper of delicious Madeira, that had recently been sent me by my
friend Hon. William Sullivan, whose sons were then
under my instruction, to the service of the sick alone.
She heartily concurred with me in the new measure, and
total abstinence was then established as a rule of my
household.
That evening, or the next, a party of neighbors came
in to welcome my return. At the usual time a plate of
cake was handed round, when my sister Abby roguishly
said, "If any of you are thirsty, you must go to the
well and satisfy yourselves; for my brother has decreed
that we shall offer to our friends hereafter nothing better than cold water." This led to an exposition of my
new faith, and the terrible statistics of intemperance,




BROOKLYN, CONN., CONCLUDED.         107
which had induced me to adopt the principle of total
abstinence. A few evenings afterwards, we returned
the call, or rather attended a small party at the house
of one of the neighbors alluded to above. Just before
we rose to leave, the good lady of the house offered us
cake, and pleasantly said, " We are not going to treat
you any better than we were treated the other evening at
our minister's house: he gave us nothing but cold water;
our well is as good as his, and you may have as much
cold water as you please. We mean to follow the example of our minister." Thus the doctrine of total abstinence was again made the subject of discussion. But
I felt that much more was to be done than merely talk
upon the subject at private parties. The statistics published by the Society for the Suppression of Intemperance, and still later by the Total Abstinence Society,
were too awful to be readily believed, so I set about investigating the matter for myself. I easily calculated
what would be the quota for Brooklyn of all the various
evils set forth by the above-named societies as the
dreadful consequences of the use of intoxicating drinks
throughout our country. It was taken for granted that
there was less intemperance in our town than in many
others. I therefore did not expect to find our full proportion of the various evils, but supposed I should find
enough of them to justify the general statement.
I went personally to every retailer in the town, and
ascertained what quantities of the various sorts of intoxicating drinks he sold in the course of a year, and
their prices. From the same persons I learnt the num



108        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
ber of inebriates in the town. The overseers of the
poor enabled me to find out how many persons had been
reduced to poverty by their own self-indulgence, or by
the intemperance of those on whom they were necessarily dependent. The physicians, the sexton, and the
older inhabitants gave me the facts, from which I could
estimate how much sickness and how many deaths
might be fairly attributed to the use of alcohol. And the
records of the court and of the jailer told pretty correctly
how many crimes had been perpetrated, during the previous ten years, under the influence of the same demon.
After the most careful examination of all the information thus obtained, I was brought to the conclusion,
much to my surprise, that the frightful statements, made
in the reports of the temperance societies, of the waste,
the miseries, the crimes, the deaths caused by the use of
intoxicating drinks, were abundantly sustained by the
facts of the case found in our own town.
Thus fortified, I made the evils of intemperance the
subject of a sermon, preached to a full congregation.
I spread before my hearers the condition of the country
in this respect, giving them the statistics published by
the societies, that had been formed, if possible, to reform the people. I closed by giving notice that I should
resume the subject on the following Sunday. My hearers were much excited; many looked incredulous; some
were evidently displeased. As I was coming out of the
house, one old man said to me rather roughly, "You'll
never make us believe such big stories as you have told
us this morning: you had better preach the gospel to




BROOKLYN, CONN., CONCLUDED.         109
us." " My friend," I replied, " wait until you hear what
I shall tell you next Sunday."
The next Sunday came. The audience was large,
and the people had come eager to hear if any thing more
extravagant was to be told them.
I took up the statements I had made the previous
Sunday, on the authority of the temperance reports,
and then set about to show them by the statistics of our
own town, which I had so carefully gathered up and
arranged, that if the amount of intoxicating liquors
drank by the people throughout the United States was
proportionably only as great as the amount used in
Brooklyn, and if the evils everywhere produced by that
indulgence were everywhere as many and as dreadful as
I had found them to be, and no more nor worse, even then
the calculations made, and the statistics given, by the
friends of temperance must be wholly within the truth.
This exposition evidently made an impression upon the
minds of my auditors. A great many adopted the principle of " total abstinence," and the cause of temperance
became quite popular. Daniel Frost, a very respectable
lawyer of Canterbury, became a convert, and then an
earnest advocate, and at length devoted himself almost
entirely to the cause.
I lectured frequently on the subject, not only in all
parts of Brooklyn, but in all the neighboring towns.
We certainly succeeded in diminishing greatly the apparent, if not the real, amount of the evils of intemperance. Numbers of drunkards were reclaimed; several
of the retailers abandoned their traffic; and the use of




110        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
intoxicating beverages was renounced by a great many
persons. It seemed as if a general and most beneficent
reformation was indeed to be effected. Young persons
and old, male and female, signed the pledge of total
abstinence. Amongst many very interesting and affecting instances of self-consecration to this work, I remember one with particular pleasure. I went to Norwich,
about twenty miles south of Brooklyn, to lecture on the
subject. I had a good audience, and was conscious of
making no little impression. So soon as I called for
signatures to the pledge, a venerable man, more than
seventy-five years of age, came forward to give his name.
It was General Zechariah Huntington. He was one of
Washington's aids during the war of the Revolution,
and had ever since sustained a most respectable position
in the community where he lived. Before he wrote his
signature, he said, "I am now, as you all perceive, an old
man. I have been in the habit of drinking alcohol in
some of its forms many years, more than fifty. Every
day I have taken a dram; but I have seen so much of
the horrible effects of intemperance, that I have been
upon my guard and have always used rum and wine
moderately. I do not believe it has ever done me any
harm: it may have done me good. Many persons
think that to renounce it, at my time of life, will be
injurious, perhaps fatal to me. But I am too much
affected, by the fearful ravages of intemperance in the
land, to hesitate a moment longer as to my duty. I have
often exposed my life upon the field of battle for the redemption of my country from a foreign foe; and I will




BROOKLYN, CONN., CONCLUDED.          111
not refuse any sacrifice that I am called upon to make,
to save my country from this far worse, this internal, ay,
infernal enemy, even if it be the sacrifice of life." The
effect of such an example was more powerful than the
most eloquent speech.
Farmers and master-workmen, not a few, refused to
furnish spirituous drinks to their hired men; some refused to employ men who persisted in the use of such
drinks. And the falsity of the notion, which had been
most assiduously disseminated, was thoroughly exposed;
the notion that very hard work could not be done.without the aid of stimulants. It was shown, too plainly
not to be seen, that alcohol conferred no strength: it
only excited to undue exertion.
In 1829 I built a house. When the frame was all
ready to be put up, I said to my master-workman, " I
will furnish the entertainment for the raisers."  "I shall
be glad to have you do so," was his prompt reply; "but
you must have some rum, or spirituous liquor of some
kind, for it is always expected on such occasions, and
I do not believe the house can be put up without it."
" Then it must lie upon the ground," said I; " for I do
not mean there shall be a drop of any thing that can
intoxicate brought upon the ground."  He remonstrated at length, somewhat angrily, but I was inflexible; and he acquiesced on my promise, in case his
prediction should be fulfilled, and the frame not be
raised, that I would pay him for the work he had done,
and whatever damages for the loss of his job might
be awarded by an impartial reference.




112        LIFE OF SAMUEL.1. MAY.
The day forthe raising was appointed. The usual public invitation was given, accompanied by the notice that
no spirituous drinks would be furnished or permitted.
A large concourse of people assembled; for in our country towns, a raising used to be a great attraction.
The labor commenced at 1 P.M., and before sundown
the frames of my house, 42 feet long, 28 feet wide, with
an L 24 feet by 18, and of my barn 24 feet by 20, were
both standing firm. So soon as the frame of the main
part of the house was up, the refreshment I had provided was brought on. It was at once seen to be a
generous one, very much more costly than spirituous
liquors would have been. A murmur of satisfaction
was everywhere audible, and a jolly repast the raisers
made of it.  They afterwards put their hands and
shoulders to the work, with right good-will, and completed the raising of the L and of the barn in the
shortest time possible.
Just about the close of the repast, I saw some comr
motion on one part of the grounds, and heard angry
voices. I hurried to the spot, and found it was the
expression of indignation at an unprincipled man, who
had clandestinely brought a bottle of rum with him,
and had invited some others to partake of it with him.
His invitation was accepted by no one. Several who
were known to be much addicted to the use of rum
were too honorable to take it there. They said, " We
were invited to a temperance raising: we have been
handsomely entertained, and no one shall stay here who
attempts to violate the condition on which we were




BROOKLYN, CONN., CONCLUDED.         113
invited." So they'broke the man's bottle and drove
him away.
As already stated, early in my ministry I commenced
preaching the doctrine of peace, and denouncing the
custom of war. In the spring of 1825, a most excellent man came to reside in Brooklyn, who was an
earnest fellow-laborer and efficient helper in this cause,
Mr. George Benson, for many years a merchant in
Providence, R.I., a member of the distinguished firm,
Brown, Benson, & Ives. He dissolved his connection
with them because he could not conscientiously consent to some things which they and most merchants
deemed perfectly proper. He was respected by all who
knew him, for his steadfast adherence to whatever he
believed to be true and right. Although never a member of the Society of Friends, he entertained most of
their opinions, cherished their spirit, dressed very much
in their style, and generally attended their religious
meetings. He was over seventy years of age, very gentle and a perfect gentleman. Able to live comfortably
on the interest of his property, for economy's sake, and
yet more for the good of his large family, he left the
city, and removed to Brooklyn, where he had purchased
a large, commodious house, and small farm, near the
village. He and his family were a valuable accession
to our society, and added much to my personal comfort.
His wife, six daughters, and two sons, were all sensible,
earnest persons. They conscientiously differed somewhat in their religious opinions, but they were harmoH




114        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
nious among themselves, charitable towards others, and
all interested in the great work of our Lord, the redemption of mankind from ignorance, sin, and misery.
Mr. Benson for several years attended regularly my
preaching; but perceiving that my doctrine tended
to the humanitarian view of Christ, and having been
wrought upon by.some of our Orthodox neighbors, he
quietly withheld himself from our meetings, and occasionally went to the other church.  But this caused no
interruption in our frequent intercourse, nor any abatement of its cordiality; for I knew him to be a pure,
sincere, practical Christian. Mrs. Benson, one of the
most motherly of women; Charlotte, now Mrs. Arthony
of Providence; Sarah, a very saint; and Helen, now
Mrs. Wm. L. Garrison of Boston, together with George
W. and Henry E., were devoted coworkers with me,
and constant attendants on my preaching. Frances, the
oldest daughter, was very Orthodox, and Mary and Anna
were Quakers. I wish I could do better justice to this
most estimable family. George W. was a most energetic, fearless, young man in behalf of any thing that he
believed to be true and right, and Henry E. was, I think,
one of the most faultless persons I ever knew.
Mr. Benson and I soon discovered how much we
agreed in our opinions upon the great subjects of war,
intemperance, and popular education. He was conversant with most of the best Quaker and other writers
upon those subjects, and helped me much to define and
settle my opinions.  We succeeded in interesting so
many persons in our views of war, persons not only




BROOKLYN, CONN., CONCLUDED.         115
of Brooklyn, but of several other towns, that in August,
1826, we called a county meeting of the friends of
peace, and succeeded in forming the Windham County
Peace Society, which continued its operations so long
as I remained in Connecticut. Mr. Benson was the
President:' I was the Corresponding Secretary. We
distributed a great many tracts, and held meetings in
most of the towns of the county.
I opened correspondence with many of the prominent friends of peace in this country and in England,
with John Bevans, Rev. James Hargreaves of London,
and Dr. Thomas Hancock of Liverpool, and with Dr.
Noah Worcester of Brighton, Hon. Thomas S. Grimke
of Charleston, S.C., William  Ladd of Minot, Maine,
and Joshua P. Blanchard, of Boston.  Through them
I obtained the best English as well as American
publications on the subject, for my own use and for
circulation.
The first pamphlet I ever published was an " Exposition of the Sentiments and Purposes of the Windham County Peace Society," in the fall of 1826.
My correspondence with Mr. Ladd and Mr. Grimke
was more frequent than with any others, and was particularly valuable. In the summer of 1827 Mr. Ladd
came to visit me. He spent a week or more in my
family. He lectured several times in Brooklyn and the
neighborhood, and converted many to our faith, and
confirmed the brethren. He was a large, coarse-looking
man, but refined and delicate in all his feelings. IHe




116        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
was well educated and well informed. After leaving
college, he led a seafaring life for a number of years,
and thus extended considerably his acquaintance with
men and countries.  Having inherited or acquired a
handsome fortune, he retired upon a large farm in Minot,
Maine, and there for a while devoted himself to agriculture, the raising of cattle, and to his literary pursuits.
The writings of Dr. Worcester arrested his attention,
wrought a deep conviction in his heart, and brought him
from his retirement to be a public lecturer upon the
criminality of the custom of war. His style of writing
was piquant and racy.  He was forcible in argument,
happy in illustration, often witty, and sometimes sarcastic. Although there was no grace in his delivery, he
never failed to secure attention, and make a deep impression.
Mr. Ladd was one of the most kind-hearted and
genial men I ever knew. His laugh was loud and very
contagious, so that it was impossible to be with him
without having a merry time. He was, however, a
truly, devoutly religious man, and rather Orthodox.
His visit continued, as I have said, through six
or seven days, and was most grateful to me and my
family. We had a great deal of conversation on several
subjects of great interest. I heard all his lectures. He
heard me preach, and he took part with me in our
morning and evening devotions. How, then, was I
surprised at the change which came over him on the
morning of his departure! We had taken breakfast
together, and had retired to my study to wait several




BROOKLYN, CONN., CONCLUDED.         117
hours for the stage-coach. After a while, his countenance assumed a grave, not to say a dark, look, and in
an altered tone he addressed me thus: "Mr. May, I
have passed a very pleasant, and, I hope, a profitable,
week with you, profitable to ourselves, and to the
great Christian reform in which we are both so much
engaged. We have conversed, too, upon other important topics; but there is one subject upon which I have
not said to you what I ought. I cannot leave you
without expressing my utter disapprobation, my dread
of your doctrinal opinions, and the false foundation
upon which, I fear, you are resting your religious
hopes." I soon perceived what was coming. So I
threw into my countenance a demure expression, and
put myself into the most receptive attitude. He went
on, warming as he went, in condemnation of what
he considered the dangerous, ay, damnable, errors of
Unitarianism, until he had wrought himself into a
glow of holy horror.
When he ceased, I looked up and said, "I thank you
for what doubtless was intended for my good. I honor
you for your fidelity to your convictions. I mean to be
equally faithful to my own. And I know not how I
can better evince my gratitude for your faithfulness to
me, than by being equally faithful to you in return."
Then I set before him, as plainly as possible, my view
of the Orthodox system of doctrines and "scheme of
salvation," showing him how utterly derogatory to
God and discouraging to man they seemed to me; and
that I did not dread his doctrinal opinions any less
than he did mine.




118        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
He could hardly wait for me to finish what I had to
say, when he replied, "You have served me right. It
is just as proper for you to denounce my religious belief
as for me to denounce yours. I doubt not you are as
sincere in your belief of what seems to me dangerous
error, as I am in my belief of what seems to you dangerous error. I consent to what you say about the test of
the Christian character. He only ought to be accounted
a Christian (whatever be the faith he professes), who
manifests the spirit of Jesus, and is laboring to accomplish the work of the Lord, the redemption of mankind
from ignorance, sin, and misery. And" he added, with
one of his hearty laughs, " I have no doubt that your heart
will go to heaven, whatever may become of your head."
Thus ended our only talk about theological opinions.
Our friendship continued, and, I believe, grew stronger
until his death, increased by the not infrequent exchange of letters, and an occasional interview. He
devoted the last ten or fifteen years of his life to the
dissemination of the pacific principles of the Gospel;
and, at his death, bequeathed to the American Peace
Society the bulk of his property.
In the spring of 1827, our School Committee had
become fully aware of the defects of our common
schools in Brooklyn and all that region of the State;
and suspecting that they were as numerous and glaring
in other parts of Connecticut, they determined to call
the attention of the public generally to the subject.
Accordihgly we issued a circular letter, inviting the




BROOKLYN, CONN., CONCLUDED.          119
people to send delegates to a State Convention in
Brooklyn, for the purpose of considering the character
and condition of our common schools. I prepared a
series of questions, which were printed in the circular,
answers to which would elicit the information desired,
and would show the people of Connecticut that they
had no reason to be satisfied with, much less to be
proud of, their system of public instruction.
Copies of the circular were sent into every town in
the State, addressed to the School Committees and to
individuals, who, it was fairly presumed, would appreciate the importance of such a convention. They were
earnestl.y requested, if they could not come in person
to the meeting, to favor us with full and exact replies
to all our questions, and with such remarks respecting
the schools in their several towns, or the State system
of public instruction, as their experience or observation
might suggest.
The Convention was held about the middle of May
(after planting was over and before the hoeing season had
commenced). The attendance was large of delegates
from the towns in Windham and the adjoining counties.
There were but few from a greater distance, but a
number of interesting and valuable letters were received.
In order to unseal the lips of all present, and get from
them all they knew about the condition of the schools
in their several towns, I commenced the business of the
meeting by a full, unsparing exposure of the low state
of the schools in Brooklyn, which were reputed to be




120        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
better than the schools generally in that part of Connecticut. The statements that I made were by no
means so creditable as my fellow-townsmen expected.
On the whole, the picture that I gave of our schools
was quite a sorry one; and many looks of mortification,
displeasure, and almost anger, were thrown at me from
one and another of my neighbors, who were jealous for
the reputation of our town. But their ill feelings were
somewhat allayed by what they afterwards heard. My
frank exposure of the poor condition of our schools
brought out from most of the members of the Convention equally plain statements respecting the schools in
their towns; so that, if I had shown our Brooklyn schools
to be far inferior to what they ought to be, it was made
to appear that the character and condition of the
schools in most other towns were still worse.
The result of the Convention was an earnest address
to our fellow-citizens of the State of Connecticut, imploring their prompt attention to our system of public
instruction; and intimating that the institution of the
large fund for the support of the Common Schools, one
of the boasts of the State, had, in some respects, operated
unfavorably to them. The income from it was so large
as to induce the feeling among the people generally
that no more need be, or ought to be, appropriated to
the cause of popular education. It was indeed large
enough to keep the schools going, such as they were,
but by no means sufficient to make the improvements
in them which were obviously needed, nor sufficient to
offer to instructors such compensations as would induce




BROOKLYN, CONN., CONCLUDED.         121
or enable the best qualified persons to devote themselves
to this most important service.
I am unable to say what effects were produced in
other parts of the State by our appeal.  But in Windham County, and throughout the eastern half of Connecticut, the public attention was certainly roused to
the subject. We continued to hold, so long as I remained there, annual County School Conventions, which
proposed and helped to introduce sundry important
improvements. Similar meetings were held in other
counties.
Hon. Henry Barnard, who has done so much and
labored so many years in the cause of popular education,
informed me, ten or twelve years ago, that his diligent
researches into the history of our systems of popular
education, had failed to discover any convention of
the people on the subject, prior to the one of which I
have above given some account.
Of all the letters received in answer to our circular,
the most important was one from Dr. William A. Alcott,
subsequently the author of " The House I live in," and
other popular books on physical training and moral culture. He was then living in Wolcott, a small town in
New Haven County. He was a philosopher and a philanthropist. He had seen so much quackery in his own (the
medical) profession, and also in the ministerial, that he
had become rather disgusted with both, and was zealous
for radical reforms in education, religion, and social life.
He wrote, not only to assure us of his lively interest in
the object of our convention, and to inform us of the char6




122        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
acter of the schools generally in his neighborhood; but to
give us some. account of a remarkable school, kept on
a very original plan, in the adjoining town of Cheshire,
by his kinsman, Mr. Amos Bronson Alcott. His account
excited so much my curiosity to know more of the
American Pestalozzi, as he has since been called, that I
wrote immediately to Mr. A. B. Alcott, begging him to
send me a detailed statement of his principles and methods of teaching and of training children.  In due time
came to me a full account of the school of Cheshire,
which revealed such a depth of insight into the nature of
man, such a true sympathy with children, such profound
appreciation of the work of education, and withal so philosophically arranged and exquisitely written, that I at
once felt assured the man must be a genius, and that I
must know him more intimately. So I wrote, inviting
him urgently to visit me. I also sent the account of
his school to Mr. William Russell, in Boston, then editing the first Journal of Education ever published in
our country.  Mr. Russell thought as highly of the
article as I did, and gave it to the public in his next
October number.
Mr. Alcott accepted my invitation. He came and
passed a week with me before the close of the summer.
I have never, but in one other instance, been so immediately taken possession of by any man I have ever
met in life. He seemed to me like a born sage and
saint.  He was radical in all matters of reform;
went to the root of all things, especially the subjects of
education, mental and moral culture. If his biography




BROOKLYN, CONN., CONCLUDED.         123
shall ever be written by one who can appreciate him,
and especially if his voluminous writings shall be
properly published, it will be known how unique he
was in wisdom and purity.
My sister Abigail was in my family at the time. I
soon saw the indications of a mutual attraction, which
afterwards became a strong attachment, that was cemented on the 23d of May, 1830, by their marriage.
Louisa May Alcott, the author of " Little Women," is
their daughter.
It was, I think, in 1828, that Mr. Josiah Holbrook
commenced his enterprise, the institution of the " American Lyceum." The great design of it was to popularize the knowledge of natural history, and of the
physical sciences. He came and spent some time
with me. He lectured in Brooklyn and in the neighboring towns. We formed a lyceum, and several
others were formed in the county. I entered into the
work heartily, and delivered quite a number of lectures
during several successive winters, in Brooklyn and in
other towns. My first lecture was upon the Common
Errors in Education, delivered on the 22d of October,
1828. It was published in the "Brooklyn Advertiser;"
republished by Mr. Russell in his "Journal of Educatiorn;" and, from his types, an edition was printed in
pamphlet form, which was, I believe, the second of my
book publications.
Here, I may as well record an account of one of
my naughty deeds, of which I do not, even now, feel




124        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
so much ashamed as perhaps I ought to. In the spring
of 1830, my wife not being in good health, and having,
withal, a young child, I sold an ugly horse that I had
owned a few months, and made diligent inquiry for a
sound, well-trained, perfectly safe horse, that my timid
wife would not be afraid to ride about with, driven by
her sister or our hired girl. At length a man, one of
my Society, came and offered me his horse. He was
not by any means a good-looking animal; but the
owner assured me that he had been worn down by
hard work, that all his moral qualities were just what I
wanted them to be, and that his physical qualities and
his appearance would certainly improve under my
keeping and with my usage. Said I to him, " I know
nothing about a horse. I must rely wholly upon your
statements. If I buy him, it will be on your assurance
that he is an animal such as I have advertised for."
" You may do so," he replied, " and I know that in a
few weeks you will be entirely satisfied." So I bought
the horse. But, alas! he proved to be a miserable
creature,-so weak that he could' scarcely drag my
chaise up a decent hill; afraid of every thing, and
obstinate withal. I was provoked. I had been egregiously cheated, and all my neighbors knew it. So I
watched my opportunity to make the man ashamed of
himself. It came before long.
Early the ensuing winter, I commenced our lyceum
lectures by a course of twelve on natural philosophy.
I often had occasion to speak of so much " horse-power."
Whenever or several times when the horse-jockey was




BROOKLYN, CONN., CONCLUDED.         125
present, I remarked parenthetically, on using the term
"horse-power," "I do not mean my horse, for you all
know he has no power." This, of course, always
"brought down" the house in expressions that were
not complimentary to the man who had cheated me.
In January or February of 1828, I received an invitation from a number of gentlemen in Providence, R.I.,
inviting me to come to that city and attempt the
gathering and institution of a second Unitarian Church,
assuring me that another was greatly needed. I accepted the invitation. Accordingly they hired the old
Richmond Street meeting-house, which had been recently
vacated, the Orthodox Church having taken possession
of their new house. I went, and preached four or five
Sundays. I then received an urgent "call" to settle
as their pastor, with the promise that they would immediately 1juild a new and commodious house. The call
was signed by more than eighty gentlemen, many of
whom I knew to be men of excellent character, of great
earnestness of purpose, and of property enough to
support me handsomely without burdening themselves.
The offer was a very tempting one. I had, from the
first, found it difficult to live on the small salary paid
me by the Church of Brooklyn; and the tardiness with
which that had been paid during the past two years had
subjected me frequently to great inconvenience. Indeed, I had been obliged to give the committee notice
that, unless my salary could be paid more punctually
every quarter, I should be obliged to resign my place




126        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
as their minister, and seek a home elsewhere. My
father and family had repeatedly urged me to relinquish
my attempt to build up a Unitarian Church in Brooklyn, and expend myself in some wider and more promising field. But my feelings respecting the duty of a
minister of the gospel revolted at the thought of withdrawing my plough from a spot that needed to be
cultivated, because it was difficult and the remuneration
smnall. Now, however, that a call had come to me so
unexpectedly from a place where so much needed to be
done, and obviously could be done, in the cause of true
Christianity, I was shaken in my determination. I
would not consult my father and friends in Boston,
because I knew what their decision would be. My
wife would not influence me one way or the other;
because, she said, it was a question which a minister
ought to settle for himself. I could not find to which
place she inclined for her own and the children's sake.
Repeatedly, in her most unguarded moments, I put
questions to her which had only a remote connection
with the prominent one in my mind; but she was
quick to discern their bearing, and was so adroit in her
replies that I could not perceive to which side she
really inclined.
But it was known throughout the Society that I had
received a call to the new church in Providence, and
the members roused themselves with one accord to
dissuade me from accepting it. They gave me the
strongest assurance that my salary should be promptly
paid. They moreover offered to assist me to build a




BROOKLYN, CONN., CONCLUDED.        127
house, in materials, labor, and money to the amount
of eight hundred or one thousand dollars. And good
Mr. Benson proposed to give me a very desirable building lot, an acre or more, near his house. The anxiety
of the people, so emphatically expressed, and their
apprehension that the Church would go down if I left
them, induced me to decide to remain in Brooklyn.
So in the month of April I went to Providence, and
communicated to the new Church there my determination to decline their flattering invitation, and the reasons why I had so decided. Their manifestations of
regret were grateful to me, but did not shake the
conclusion to which I had come. They then requested
me to find the best young man that was to be obtained,
for their minister. Thus commissioned, I proceeded
immediately to Cambridge; and, after consultation with
the professors, I concluded to invite Mr. F. A. Farley
(now the Rev. Dr. Farley, of Brooklyn, New York).
He went to Providence, and preached several Sundays
to the new Church. They were pleased with him,
gave him a unanimous call, and he was ordained on
the tenth day of the following September. Dr. Channing preached one of his admirable sermons. I delivered the' address to the people, which was published
in the next January number of the "Unitarian Advocate."
I returned to Brooklyn somewhat sad, not being sure
that I had not lost the golden opportunity to improve
greatly my own and the condition of my family, and at
the same time do even more in the cause of true




128        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
Christianity. Nevertheless, I had made my choice, and
I resolved to see what would come of it in tlie good
providence of God. I felt that I had now planted
myself for life in Connecticut. I set about driving
deeper my stakes, and making surer my foundation;
and even selected a spot in the burial-ground, where I
would have my body deposited when life's labor should
be done.
In order to insure the payment of my salary, it/was
proposed that a fund should be created, the interest of
which should partly defray the annual expenses of the
Church. This was done. Our friends in Massachusetts
contributed something. We funded, in all, enough to
yield us about two hundred dollars a year. With this
aid it was thought we should get on without much
further difficulty. Soon after, the members of the
Society began to take measures to help me build my
house. This was accomplished honorably on their
part, and with the assistance of six hundred dollars
loaned me by my father. I have already, in another
place, stated that it was done in the course of the year
1829. We took possession of our new home late in
the month of November.




CHAPTER X.
FROM THE DIARY.
A DISAPPOINTMENT WELL BORNE. - NEW YEAR'S MEDITATIONS.-FITNESS FOR THE MINISTRY.-SECTARIANISM. —
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS OLD.-ORDINATION OF A TRINITARIAN MINISTER.-DEATH OF HIS MOTHER, SISTER, AND
CHILD. -ANNIVERSARY OF MARRIAGE.-THE LIFE OF
HOWARD. - A PRAYER. - EDITORIAL WORK. - A REVIVAL.
" COMING TO CHRIST."
B  ESIDES the autobiographical fragment which
ended with the last chapter, Mr. May left a diary
which was begun in November, 1821, and continued,
with varying fulness, through the next twenty years.
It was evidently intended to be read by no eyes except
his own. The autobiography gives so few dates, that
it has been found impracticable to insert passages from
the diary at appropriate places, and therefore we must
give our extracts from it by themselves. One of the
earliest entries relates to his feelings upon learning that
he would not receive a call to New York city where he
had preached as a "candidate."
November 18, 1821. - Two days since news arrived
in town that the parish in New York have given
William Ware a call. Many circumstances have made
it probable that the choice would fall upon Ware or
myself. The reception I met with when there led me
6*                 z




130        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. ~MAY.
to think the probabilities rather in my favor. It is
natural that I should have a feeling something like
disappointment, and a wish involuntarily arises to
know the grounds of the preference which has thus
been expressed. Not that I feel at all underrated to be
considered second to Ware. I have known him well
several years. In the circle of my acquaintances I
know but two or three, if any, so free from defects. In
such a city as New York there is little doubt of his
rapid improvement. There will be a constant demand
for his utmost exertion, and like pure metal he will
grow brighter with use. I love Ware; and, although it
is at the expense of my own disappointment, I do
rejoice in his success.
January 1, 1822.- Another year has passed more
rapidly and eventfully than any previous one of my
life. The great inquiry arises, Has any advancement
been made in the high purpose of my being? Am I a
better Christian? Am I better qualified to teach by
my example and instructions the religion of which I am
a minister? Do I understand any better the character
and gospel of Christ, and do I possess any more of its
spirit? These inquiries lead me to review my studies
and the effect of events upon my mind and heart.
The circumstances of several parishes to which I
have preached rendered it expedient to turn my attention to controverted subjects. It has been my aim to
avoid every thing harsh when speaking of the opinions




FROM THE DIARY.               131
of other sects, and to illustrate my own views as plainly
and forcibly as possible. I trust I have not often, if
ever, discovered an uncharitable temper.  The real
feeling of my heart is not so much zeal for the spread
of the Unitarian doctrines, as an earnest desire to
diffuse throughout the Christian community the idea
that religion is something practical, and that, as to the
sentiments we may adopt, we have all a right to judge
for ourselves.
Brooklyn, Conn., March 18, 1822.- On the 5th inst.
my sister Eliza (Mrs. Willis, of Portland) died. She
was generous and affectionate, rigidly faithful in the
discharge of her duty, and was supported and cheered
by a fervent and rational piety. Our whole family are
much depressed. My parents have now buried their
eighth child. Four only are left. It would have been
a comfort to them, and delightful to me could I have
been established near them; but Providence has ordered
otherwise, at least for the present. I pray that I may
labor with my might and with good success in this
place. But the duty is mine, the event is with God.
Yesterday afternoon I preached from the fourteenth
chapter of Romans. I took occasion in this discourse,
and not without a very visible effect, to speak to them
respecting the unhappy divisions in the town. I asked
if they had not been in fault; exhorted them to examine their own conduct, and see if they had not offended
against Christian charity; not to seek for palliations for
their actions, but to be willing to discover their own




132        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
errors, and reasons to think and feel more favorably
towards their fellow Christians.
September 12, 1822.- To-day completes my twentyfifth year. I seem now to have entered in good earnest
upon the duties of life, and at times I really feel oppressed with care and responsibility. It is six months
since I undertook the care of the parish in Brooklyn.
Providence has placed me among this people, and I do
not see how I can leave them without deserting the
post of duty.
April 14, 1824.- This day has witnessed the ordination of Rev. Ambrose Edson as pastor of the First
Trinitarian Church and Society in this town. This
name denominates those who, several years ago, seceded
from the society of which I am now pastor. They are,
of course, opposed to us, and it is too true the opposition is bitter. But I cannot bear the thought of considering this man my enemy. It is my wish to make
him my friend, and to be a fellow-laborer. What
course he means to pursue I know not. I mean to
treat him, if possible, with affectionate kindness. If
he is an instrument for the promotion of religion in this
place, I ought to rejoice; yes, if while he increases
I must decrease.
November 5.-This day received the painful tidings
of my mother's death. She died October 31. Her
children, the sick, and the unfortunate knew her worth




FROM THE DIARY.               133
in this world, and in the world whither she has gone
we shall rise and call her blessed.
November 14, 1828. -This day my sister, Mrs.
Louisa Greele, finished her mortal life. She had been
sick only about a week.
December 9.-I went to Boston to see and condole
with my father and Abby.
December 14.-While sitting in my chamber between the hours of public worship, and preparing myself to preach at the Chapel in the afternoon, my father
came into the room and announced to me the heartrending intelligence that my own little Joseph, my
first-born, my only son, was no more. He died on the
twelfth, of croup. When'I left him he was apparently
as well as usual. I hurried home with a brain almost
bewildered; reached Brooklyn on Monday at eleven,
and found it too true.
December 31, 1828. —This night closes the present
year, a most eventful year it has been to me. I wish to
review it calmly.
The most prominent event in the past year is the
death of my child. The birth of this little being
awakened in my bosom a set of affections wholly new.
All our recollections of him are delightful. There can
be no doubt that infant children are removed to a state
of higher felicity. But after all the considerations that




134        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MA Y.
may be urged, there are some things inexplicable in the
physical sufferings and death of a young child. I do
not entertain a doubt that they are all directed by
Infinite Wisdom and Love, but the reasonableness of
such dispensations is beyond our ken.
The death of my sister Louisa is another event which
has thrown its shade over the past year. Her peculiar
characteristics had made her a prominent one among
us. She was generous, energetic, and affectionate. She
was upright, judicious, and engaging. We all loved
her, and we were not a little proud of her.
I pray God that these impressive lessons may sink
deeply into my heart, and induce me from this time forth
to lead a life of greater holiness and devotion to his
will and the happiness of my fellow-men.
June 1, 1829.-This day is the anniversary of my
marriage. Four years ago I was united in this holy
relation, and I can bear a grateful testimony to its
influence upon my happiness. My wife's is a mind of
singular purity, the utmost tenderness of conscience,
and disinterestedness of purpose.
Juine 16, 1831.-I have just finished reading the
"Life of Howard," by James B. Brown. Of no man
who has lived since the days of Christ can it be more
truly said, "He went about doing good. It was his
meat and drink to do his Father's will." God grant
that the perusal of this volume may inspire me with
greater ardor in the cause of suffering humanity. May




FROM THE DIARY.               135
I never be disheartened from attempting a project of
benevolence, however many or great may be the discouragements and dangers.
June, 1832.- 0 God, the Father of my spirit, thou
knowest how much I desire to be a follower of thee, as
a dear child. Thou knowest how wretchedly I feel, I
am, when I have sinned against thee. Thou knowest
how heartfelt is my delight when I have obeyed thy
will, especially when I have made a successful struggle
against the enemies of my virtue. And O Thou from
whom my help cometh, to thee is known how strong
my temptations often are.  To thee I look up in
fervent prayer. Assist me to keep a more vigilant
watch against the first approach of sin. May I be
more continually on my guard, watching unto prayer.
Let no sin have dominion over me. Give me wisdom
to discern clearly the heinousness of the offences I am
sometimes tempted to commit, and aid me to flee from
the first approach of evil.
December 31, 1832.- Since last April I have been the
editor of a paper, "The Christian Monitor and Common People's Adviser." Its object is to promote the
free discussion of all subjects connected with happiness
and holiness. The success of it has been as great as I
could expect.
January 4, 1833. —Since the first of the month
there has been in this village a protracted meeting held




136        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
by the Orthodox Society. I have attended four times.
I have not discouraged my people from going, but
quite otherwise. I have rather wished them to go.
Surely, if there is any good to be obtained, I fervently
pray that my people may share in it. I feel too deeply
the momentous interests they have in eternity, to assume
to myself all the responsibility of instructing them.
I dare not say to them, "I am the only safe guide.
I alone am a teacher of the truth." My wish is
that they should hear what other ministers of the
Gospel may think, and carefully compare all they hear
from others or from myself with the declarations of
Scripture.
None of the gentlemen that I heard gave any explanation of their meaning when they exhorted their hearers
to "come to Christ." When I exhort my people to
come to Christ,-I mean by it that they should take him
for their instructor, guide, example. I assure them
that, if they will obey the precepts and copy the example of our Lord, they will be saved, and not otherwise.
On this point I mean to question some of them before
the public.
Such is the management at these meetings that a
person must have great strength of nerve, or a most
phlegmatic temperament, to retain his self-command if
he submits himself to the whole series of operations.
There is something like manceuvre in this, which I cannot approve.
God knows my heart, that I fervently, unfeignedly
desire the good of this whole people. I am not so




FROM THE DIARY.              137
anxious to have my Society increased as I am to have
true religion increase among us. If I am wrong, I
pray that none may be misled by me. Sometimes the
sense of responsibility weighs so heavily upon me that
I long to be released. But imperative duty seems to
demand of me to persevere. I pray God to direct me,
to guide me, to support me.., Malke me useful to him in
the cause of truth and righteousness, and not suffer me
to live a moment to do harm.




CHAPTER XI.
ANTISLAVERY.
IMPRESSION RECEIVED FROM DANIEL WEBSTER'S ORATION AT
PLYMOUTH IN 1820. —REV. JOHN RANKIN, OF KENTUCKY.
-BENJAMIN LUNDY.- HEARS WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON.
-BECOMES ONE OF HIS DISCIPLES. -SERMON IN REV.
DR. YOUNG'S PULPIT. - GREAT SENSATION. - ENTREATS
MR. GARRISON TO BE LESS SEVERE.- MR. GARRISON'S
NOBLE REPLY. - PRUDENCE CRANDALL'S SCHOOL. - HER
PERSECUTIONS. —MR. MAY BECOMES HER CHAMPION.'PUBLISHES "THE UNIONIST."- MISS CRANDALL'S SCHOOL
ABANDONED.-MRS. L. M. CHILD'S DEDICATION.-ATTENDS CONVENTION CALLED TO FORM A NATIONAL ANTISLAVERY SOCIETY.-LETTER FROM JOHN G. WHITTIER
CONCERNING THE CONVENTION AND MR. MAY.- MR. MAY
REPROVES REV. DR. CHANNING.-PRO-SLAVERY FEELING
IN BOSTON. -MR. MAY GENERAL AGENT AND CORRESPONDING SECRETARY OF THE MASSACHUSETTS ANTISLAVERY
SOCIETY.- HIS MANNER AS AN ANTISLAVERY LECTURER.
LETTER FROM REV. J. H. HEYWOOD. - MR. MAY IS
MOBBED.-DEFENDS THE ABOLITIONISTS BEFORE A JOINT
COMMITTEE OF THE MASSACHUSETTS LEGISLATURE.HARRIET MARTINEAU'S TRIBUTE.
IT was at the very height of the Missouri Controversy
and of the interest it had awakened in the question
whether slavery was to become permanent in the
United States, that Mr. May entered upon the labors
of his profession.
Just at the close of 1820, very soon after he had
received the approbation of the Boston Association of




ANTISLAVERY.                139
Ministers as a candidate for the Christian ministry, he
preached at Springfield, Mass., for his particular friend,
Rev. W. B. O. Peabody. In his "brief account of his
ministry," which he gave in a discourse at Syracuse,
when seventy years of age, he said:" It is not an insignificant fact in my history, that, though
in the trepidation of the moment, my voice must have been
very little' like a trumpet,' I read in the morning service
the fifty-eighth chapter of Isaiah. I know not what prompted
me to do so, unless it may have been the impressive words
on slavery uttered a few days before at Plymouth by Daniel Webster, whom I then revered more than any of our
statesmen."
In that oration Mr. Webster said of the slave trade:
" I invoke the ministers of our religion, that they proclaim its denunciation of these crimes, and add its
solemn sanctions to the authority of human laws. If
the pulpit be silent whenever or wherever there may be
a sinner bloody with this guilt within the hearing of its
voice, the pulpit is false to its trust."
A few years later, about 1825, Mr. May became deeply
interested in a book on Slavery by the Rev. John
Rankin, of the Presbyterian Church in Kentucky, addressed to a brother in Virginia who had then recently
become a slave-holder. It denounced slavery as "a
never-failing fountain of the grossest immoralities, and
one of the deepest sources of human misery;" insisting that "the safety of our government and the happiness of its subjects depended upon the extermination
of this evil."




140         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
In the month of June, 1828, Benjamin Lundy, whose
paper, " The Genius of Universal Emancipation," was
for a long time nearly the only voice that warned the
people of the United States of their guilt and peril,
visited Brooklyn, Conn. Mr. May was deeply impressed by Mr. Lundy's exhibition of the wrongs of
slavery and the suffering of its victims, although he had
serious doubts of the wisdom and justice of the proposed plan of removing the blacks to some of the
unoccupied territory of Texas or Mexico. It was not
until two years later, however, that Mr. May listened to
one whose words on this subject satisfied both his mind
and heart, and led him to enlist "for the war " in the
army of freedom.
" It so happened, in the good Providence'which shapes
our ends,' that I was on a visit in Boston in October, 1830.
An advertisement appeared in the newspapers, that during
the following week W. Lloyd Garrison would deliver to the
public three lectures, in which he would exhibit the sinfulness
of slave-holding; expose the duplicity of the Colonization
Society, revealing its true character; and, in opposition to it,
would announce and maintain the doctrine, that immediate,
unconditional emancipation is the right of every slave and
the duty of every master. The advertisement announced
that his lectures would be delivered on the Common, unless
some church or commodious hall should be proffered to him
gratuitously. If I remember correctly, it was said that Mr.
Garrison had applied for several of the Boston churches, and
been refused, because it was known that he had become an
opponent of the Colonization Society. A day or two after
the first, I saw a second advertisement, informing the public
that the free use of Julien Hall, occupied by Rev. Abner
Kneeland's church, having been generously tendered to Mr.




ANTISLA VERY.                  141
Garr:son, he would deliver his lectures there instead of on
the Common. I had not then seen this resolute young man.
I had been much impressed by some of his writings, knew of
his connection with Mr. Lundy, and had heard of his imprisonraent [in Baltimore, at the suit of a slave-trader from
Massachusetts, whom he had exposed]. Of course I was
eager to see and hear him, and went to Julien Hall in due
season on the appointed evening. My brother-in-law, A.
Bronson Alcott, and my cousin, Samuel E. Sewall, accompanied me. Truer men could not easily have been found.
" The hall was pretty well filled. Among some persons
whom I did, and many whom I did not, know, I saw there
Rev.. Dr. Beecher, Rev. Mr. (now Dr.) Gannett, Deacon
Moses Grant, and John Tappan, Esq.
" Presently the young man arose, modestly, but with an
air of calm determination, and delivered such a lecture as he
only, I believe, at that time, could have written; for he only
had had his eyes so anointed that he could see that outrages
perpetrated upon Africans were wrongs done to our common
humanity; he only, I believe, had had his ears so completely
unstopped of'prejudice against color' that the cries of
enslaved black men and black women sounded to him as if
they came from brothers and sisters.
" He began with expressing deep regret and shame for the
zeal he had lately manifested in the Colonization cause. It
was, he confessed, a zeal without knowledge. He had been
deceived by the misrepresentations so diligently given throughout the free States by Southern agents, of the design and
tendency of the Colonization scheme. During his few months'
residence in Maryland he had been completely undeceived.
He had there found out that the design of those who originated, and the especial intentionrs of those in the Southern
States who engaged in the plan, were to remove from the
country, as a disturbing element in slave-holding communities, all the free colored people, so that the bondmen might
the more easily be held in subjection. He exhibited, in




142         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
graphic sketches,and glowing colors, the suffering of the
enslaved, and denounced the plan of Colonization as devised
and adapted to perpetuate the system and intensify the
wrongs of American slavery, and therefore utterly undeserving of the patronage of lovers of liberty and friends of
humanity.
" Never before was I so affected by the speech of man.
When he had ceased speaking I said to those around me:' That is a providential man; he is a prophet; he will shake
our nation to its centre, but he will shake slavery out of it.
We ought to know him, we ought to help him. Come, let
us go and give him our hands.'   Mr. Sewall and Mr.
Alcott went up with me, and we introduced each other. I
said to him,' Mr. Garrison, I am not sure that I can indorse
all you have said this evening. Much of it requires careful
consideration. But I am prepared to embrace you. I am
sure you are called to a great work, and I mean to help you.'
Mr. Sewall cordially assured him of his readiness also to cooperate with him. Mr. Alcott invited him to his home. He
went, and we sat with him until twelve that night, listening
to his discourse, in which he showed plainly that immediate,
unconditional emancipation, without expatriation, was the right
of every slave, and could not be withheld by his master an hour
without sin. That night my soul was baptized in his spirit,
and ever since I have been a disciple and fellow-laborer of
William Lloyd Garrison.
" The next morning, immediately after breakfast, I went
to his boarding-house and stayed until two P.M. I learned
that he was poor, dependent upon his daily labor for his
daily bread, and intending to return to the printing business.
But, before he could devote himself to his own support, he
felt that he must deliver his message, must communicate to
persons of prominent influence what he had learned of the
sad condition of the enslaved, and of the institutions and
spirit of the slave-holders; trusting that all true and good
men would discharge the obligation pressing upon them




ANTISLA VERY.                  143
to espouse the cause of the poor, the oppressed, the downtrodden. He read to me letters he had addressed to Dr.
Channing, Dr. Beecher, Dr. Edwards, the Hon. Jeremiah
Mason, and Hon. Daniel Webster, holding up to their view
the tremendous iniquity of the land, and begging them, ere
it should be too late, to.interpose their great power in the
Church and State to save our country from the terrible
calamities which the sin of slavery was bringing upon us.
Those letters were eloquent, solemn, impressive. I wonder
they did not produce a greater effect. It was because none
to whom he appealed, in public or private, would espouse the
cause, that Mr. Garrison found himself left and impelled to
become the leader of the great antislavery reform.
"The hearing of Mr. Garrison's lectures was a great
epoch in my own life. The impression which they -made
upon my soul has never been effaced; indeed, they moulded
it anew. They gave a new direction to my thoughts, a new
purpose to my ministry.
"II was engaged to preach on the following Sunday for
Brother Young, in Summer Street Church. Of course I
could not again speak to a congregation as a Christian minister, and be silent respecting the great iniquity of our nation.
The only sermon I had brought from my home in Connecticut that could be made to bear on the subject was one on
Prejudice, a sermon about to be published as one of the
Tracts of the American Unitarian Association. So I touched
it up as well as I could, interlining here and there words and
sentences which pointed in the new direction to which my
thoughts and feelings so strongly tended, and writing at its
close what used to be called an improvement. Thus:' The
subject of my discourse bears most pertinently upon a matter of the greatest national as well as personal importance.
There are more than two millions of our fellow-beings, children of the Heavenly Father, who are held in our country in
the most abject slavery, regarded and treated like domesticated animals, their rights as men trampled under foot,




144          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
their conjugal, parental, fraternal relations and affections
utterly set at naught. It is our prejudice against-the color of
these poor people that makes us consent to the tremendous
wrongs they are suffering. If they were white, ay, if only
two thousand or two hundred white men, women, and children
in the Southern States were treated as these millions of colored ones are, we of the North should make such a stir
of indignation, we should so agitate the country with our
appeals and remonstrances, that the oppressors would be
compelled to set their bondmen free. But will our prejudice
be accepted by the Almighty, the impartial Judge of all, as a
valid excuse for our indifference to the wrongs and outrages
inflicted upon these millions of our countrymen? Oh, no! oh,
no! He will say, "Inasmuch as ye did not what ye could
for the relief of these, the least of the brethren, ye did it not
to me."  Tell me not that we are forbidden by the Constitution of our country to interfere in behalf of the enslaved. No
compact our fathers may have made for us, no agreement we
could ourselves make, would annul our obligations to suffering fellow-men. Yes, yes,' I said, with an emphasis that
seemed to startle everybody in the house,' if need be, the
very foundations of our Republic must be broken up; and if
this stone of stumbling, this rock of offence, cannot be
removed from under it, the proud superstructure must fall.
It cannot stand, it ought not to stand, it will not stand, on
the necks of millions of men. For God is just, and his
justice will not sleep for ever.' I then offered such a prayer
as.my kindled spirit moved me to, and gave out the hymn
commencing,'Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve,
And press with vigor on.'
", When I rose to pronounce the benediction, I said:' Every
one present must be conscious that the closing remarks of my
sermon have caused an unusual emotion throughout the
church. I am glad. Would to God that a deeper emotion




ANTISLA VERY.                 145
could be sent throughout our land, until all the people
thereof shall be roused from their wicked insensibility to the
most tremendous sin of which any nation was ever guilty,
and be impelled to do that righteousness which alone can
avert the just displeasure of God. I have been prompted to
speak thus by the words I have heard during the past week
from a young man hitherto unknown, but who is, I believe,
called of God to do a greater work for the good of our
country than has been done by any one since the Revolution.
I mean William Lloyd Garrison. He is going to repeat his
lectures the coming week. I advise, I exhort, I entreatwould that I could compel! - you to go and hear him.'
"The excited audience gathered in clusters, evidently
talking about what had happened. I found the porch full
of persons conversing in very earnest tones. Presently a
lady of fine person, her countenance suffused with emotion,
tears coursing down her cheeks, pressed through the crowd,
seized my hand, and said audibly, with deep feeling:'Mr.
May, I thank you. What a shame it is that I, who have
been a constant attendant from my childhood in this or some
other Christian church, am obliged to confess that to-day, for
the first time, I have heard from the pulpit a plea for the
oppressed, the enslaved millions in our land!' All within
hearing of her voice were evidently moved in sympathy with
her, or were awed by her emotion. For myself I could only
acknowledge in a word my gratitude for her generous testimony.
" The next day I perceived, on his return from his place
of business in State Street, that my revered father was
much disturbed by the reports he had heard of my preaching.
Some of the' gentlemen of property and standing' who had
been my auditors said it was fanatical, others that it was
incendiary, others that it was treasonable; and begged him
to' arrest me in my mad career.' The only one, as he soon
afterwards informed me, who had spoken. in any other than
terms of censure, was the great and good Dr. Bowditch, who
7                 J




146          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
said,'Depend upon it, the young man is more than half
right.' My father tried to dissuade me from engaging in the
attempt to overthrow the system of slavery which Mr. Garrison proposed. He had come, with most others, to regard
it as an unavoidable evil, one that the fathers of our Republic had not ventured to suppress, but had rather given to its
protection something like a guaranty.  He thought, with
most others at that day, that slavery must be left to be
gradually removed by the progress of civilization, the growth
of higher ideas of human nature, and the manifest superiority
and better economy of free labor. He admonished me that,
in assailing the institution of American slavery, I should
only be'kicking against the pricks,' that I should lose my
standing in the ministry and my usefulness in the church. I
need not add that he failed to convince me that' the foolishness of preaching' would not yet be' mighty to the pulling
down of the stronghold of Satan.' In less than ten years he
was reconciled to my course.
" A few days afterwards I gave my sermon on Prejudice to
my most excellent friend, Rev. Henry Ware, Jr., for the
American Unitarian Association. He accepted the discourse
as originally written, but insisted that the interlineations and
the additions respecting slavery should be omitted.  He
would not have done this, nor should I have consented to it, a
few years later. But we were all in bondage then. Unconsciously to ourselves, the hand of the slave-holding power lay
heavily upon the mind and heart of the people in our Northern as well as Southern States.
"What a pity that my words in that sermon respecting
slavery were not published in the tract! They might have
helped a little to commit our Unitarian denomination much
earlier to the cause of impartial liberty in earnest protest
against the great oppression, the unparalleled iniquity of our
land. Of whom should opposition to slavery of every kind
have been expected so soon as from Unitarian Christians?"
- Recollections, pp. 17-24.




ANTISLAVERY.                   147
Though he was now fully committed to all the principles of the movement against slavery, and fully in
sympathy with Mr. Garrison, he still questioned with
himself whether the latter would not better help his
cause by a more restrained and moderate advocacy of'it. And he frankly told him his doubts.
"Mr. Garrison will perhaps remember that, a few months
after he commenced the'Liberator,' when almost everybody was finding fault with him or wishing that he would
be more temperate, I was one of the friends that came to remonstrate and entreat. He and his faithful partner, Isaac
Knapp, were at work in the little'upper chamber, No. 6
Merchants' Hall, where they lived, as well as they could, with
their printing-press and types, all within an enclosure sixteen or eighteen feet square. I requested him to walk out
with me that we might confer on an important matter. He
at once laid aside his pen, and we descended to the street. I
informed him how much troubled I had become for fear he
was damaging the cause he had so much at heart by the
undue severity of his style. He listened to me patiently. I
told him what many of the wise and prudent, who professed
an interest in his object, said about his manner of pursuing
it. He replied somewhat in the way he has so often done
since:' Do the slaves think my language too severe or misapplied?  Do that husband and wife, that mother and daughter,
who have just been separated for life, by sale on the auctionblock, think my denunciation of the man who inflicts that
wrong too severe?''But,' said I,' some of the epithets
you use, though not perhaps too severe, are not precisely
applicable to the sin you denounce, and so may seem abusive.'' Ah!' he rejoined,' until the term " slave-holder " sends as
deep a feeling of horror to the hearts of those who hear it
applied to any one as the terms "robber," "pirate," "murderer" do, we must use and multiply epithets when con



148         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
demning the sin of him who is guilty of the " sum of all villanies."''Oh,' cried I,'my friend, do try to moderate
your indignation, and keep more cool! why, you are all on
fire!' He stopped, laid his hand upon my shoulder with a kind
but emphatic pressure that I have felt ever since, and said
slowly, with deep emotion,' Brother May, I have need to be
all on fire, for I have mountains of ice about me to melt.'
From that hour to this I have never said a word to Mr. Garrison in complaint of his style. I am more than half. satisfied
now that he was right then, and we who objected were mistaken." -Recollections, p. 36.
In Windham County, Conn., Mr. May stood quite
alone, being the only minister of his denomination
in the whole State, and finding little sympathy with
his antislavery convictions beyond his own parish,
where the people welcomed Mr. Garrison to their pulpit, and, with a few exceptions, heartily co-operated
with their pastor. He suddenly found himself called to
confront the entire political, social, and religious sentiment of his county, besides entering upon a contest
with the officers of the law.
In 1833, Miss Prudence Crandall, a well-educated
lady, who had an excellent boarding and day school for
girls in Canterbury, in a house which she owned, after
some hesitation received a bright young colored woman
of fine character as a pupil. When the parents of some
of the white scholars threatened to remove their children if the "nigger girl" was permitted to remain,
and Miss Crandall saw that, without doing what she
believed to be mean and wrong, she could no longer
expect to have a full school from that neighborhood,




ANTISLAVERY.               149
she gave notice in Canterbury, and advertised in the
"Liberator," that her school would be opened "for
young ladies and little misses of color." This excited
the fiercest wrath of the community.
Hearing of her noble stand, Mr. May wrote Miss
Ctandall a letter of encouragement; and, although
warned that he should be in personal danger if he appeared in Canterbury as her friend, he soon went there
at her request. He found that she had been grossly
insulted, and threatened, and that a town-meeting was
to be held to adopt such measures as "would effectually
avert the nuisance, or speedily abate it."
To this meeting a multitude came, many from the
neighboring towns. Strong resolutions were offered
and abusive speeches were made by men of prominence;
and when Miss Crandall, by a note to the chairman,
asked that Messrs. May and Arnold Buffum might be
heard in her defence, fists were doubled in their faces,
and they were not permitted to speak.
The school opened with fifteen or twenty colored
girls from different parts of the country. But no storekeeper or dealer in provisions in the town would furnish
needful supplies. Miss Crandall and her pupils were
insulted in the street, " the doors and door-steps of her
house were besmeared, and her well was filled with
filth." The old vagrant law was revived, and its enforcement. attempted " upon Eliza Ann Hammond, of
Providence, a fine girl of seventeen years," notwithstanding a bond in the sum of $10,000 had been given to the
town treasurer of Canterbury by several gentlemen of




150        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
Brooklyn, to save the town from all charges on account
of any of Miss Crandall's pupils. This law required
that whipping on the naked body, not exceeding ten
stripes, should be inflicted on any person refusing to
leave the town after ten days' warning. Miss Hammond dared to stay, but her persecutors did not venture to proceed to the extremity of the whipping.
But on the 24th of May, 1833, the legislature of Connecticut enacted a law known as "The Black Law."
It provided, under heavy penalties, that no school
should be established in any town of the State, for the
education of colored persons of other towns, " without
the consent in writing, first obtained, of a majority of the
civil authority, and the selectmen of the town." Miss
Crandall was arrested and lodged in the county jail at
Brooklyn. Messrs. May and George W. Benson gave
the required bonds the next day, and she returned to
her school.
Reports of a calumnious character against Miss Crandall, her pupils, and her friends, were circulated and
printed; and all corrections, with all defences of the
school, were refused insertion in the county papers.
To Mr. May's surprise and delight, he received a letter
from Arthur Tappan, of New York, pledging money to
secure the best legal counsel for Miss Crandall. Mr.
Tappan soon visited Mr. May, and suggested the starting of a newspaper as a needed auxiliary. In "The
Unionist," which was continued about two years, Mr.
May was assisted by the since distinguished brothers,
Charles C. and William H. Burleigh.




ANTISLA VERY.                 151
At Miss Crandall's first trial the jury did not agree.
A new indictment was hastily drawn, and a verdict was
given against her. The case was then carried up to the
highest tribunal of the State; but upon the vital question the Court gave no decision at all, merely quashing
the indictment on account of its defects!
Miss Crandall's house was set on fire, but by timely
exertion saved from destruction. At about midnight
of the 9th of September, the house was assaulted by a
band of persons with heavy clubs and iron bars, who
broke in and destroyed windows, rendering a portion of
the house quite untenantable, and alarming the pupils
exceedingly. They now became afraid to remain another night. In his "Recollections of the Antislavery
Conflict," Mr. May says:After due consideration, therefore, it was determined
that the school should be abandoned. The pupils were called
together, and I was requested to announce to them our deci-.
sion. Never before had I felt so deeply sensible of the cruelty of the persecution which had been carried on for eighteen
months, in that New England village, against a family of
defenceless females. Twenty harmless, well-behaved girls,
whose only offence against the peace of the community was
that they had come together there to obtain useful knowledge and moral culture, were to be told that they must go
away, because the house in which they dwelt would not be
protected by the guardians of the town."  " The words almost blistered my lips. My bosom glowed with indignation.
I felt ashamed of Canterbury, ashamed of Connecticut,
ashamed of my country, ashamed of my color. Thus ended
the generous, disinterested, philanthropic, Christian enterprise of Prudence Crandall."




152        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
While Mr. May had so much local odium and persecution to bear, there were true-hearted ones, both near
at hand and far away, who gave him cordial assurance
of their admiring sympathy in his noble course. In
July, 1833, Mrs. L. Maria Child published "An Appeal
in favor of that Class of Americans called Africans," a
work never superseded, and which may yet be consulted with profit. She dedicated it in these terms:
" To the Rev. S. J. May, of Brooklyn, Conn., this volume is most respectfully inscribed as a mark of gratitude
for his earnest and disinterested efforts in an unpopular
but most righteous cause."  When he received his
copy of this work and read the dedication, which was a
complete surprise to him, Mr. May was deeply moved,
and said to his cousin Samuel, "Now, indeed, I must go
forward. I can never draw back."
In December, 1833, Mr. May attended the convention
in Philadelphia which had been called to form a
National Antislavery Society. A letter from John G.
Whittier gives an interesting account of the important
part which was assigned to them at that memorable
gathering, as well as other illustrations of Mr. May's
fidelity in those days that tried men's souls.
"AMESBURY, 3d, 11th mo., 1871.
"I am very glad to know that the biography of my old and
dear friend, Samuel J. May, is in such good hands. I have
known him well for nearly forty years. I first met him
at the convention in Philadelphia which formed the American
Antislavery Society in 1833; and, like everybody else, loved
him at first sight. I remember he was on the sub-committee




ANT1SLA VERY.                  153
with Garrison and myself, to whom was assigned the task of
drawing up the Declaration of Sentiments, a draft of which
Garrison read to us by candle-light in the early December
morning. I was with him in the season of the Boston mobs,
and went with him to visit Garrison in the Leverett Street
jail. I was associated with him and Dr. Follen and Professor
Ware in preparing the Address of the New England Antislavery Convention. His labors in the cause were abundant, and
prosecuted under circumstances which would have appalled
a less brave and hopeful spirit. In my native town, Haverhill, he was assailed by a ferocious mob; and narrowly
escaped personal indignity and injury by his cool firmness
and self-possession, passing through the enraged crowd after
the lecture, with no other escort than my sister and her
friend, daughter of the late Judge Minot, of Haverhill, now
Mrs. Pitman, of Somerville. Through all the trials and
vicissitudes of the antislavery struggle he bore himself with
a serene and cheerful courage, and a hope which never
failed in the darkest hours.
"He was a favorite with all classes and parties in the
antislavery reform. Orthodoxy forgot his liberalism, New
Organization forgave his adherence to the Old, Nobody
doubted his sincerity. I had reason to know that his bitterest
political enemies loved and honored him in their hearts, even
while denouncing him with their lips. His last visit to me
was but little more than a year before his death. We spent
a happy day together, talking over the old times, and calling
up the dear old friends who acted with us."
Prejudice against the Abolitionists at this time was
exceedingly strong and bitter; and, to some extent, it
was shared by the most intelligent and worthy men.
The story of Mr. May's noble reproof of Dr. Channing,
and the latter's equally noble confession that it was
deserved, was first published in the "Memoir of Chan7*




154          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
ning;" but it cannot be spared from the Life of Mr.
May.
" Late in the year 1834, being on a visit in' Boston, I spent
several hours with Dr. Channing in earnest conversation
upon Abolitionism and the Abolitionists. My habitual reverence for him was such that I had always been apt to defer
perhaps too readily to his opinions, or not to make a very
stout defence of my own when they differed from his. But
at the time to which I refer I had become so thoroughly convinced of the truth of the essential doctrines of the American
Antislavery Society, and so earnestly engaged in the dissemination of them, that our conversation assumed, more than it
had ever done, the character of a debate. He acknowledged
the inestimable importance of the object we had in view.
The evils of slavery, he assented, could not be overstated.
He allowed that removal to Africa ought not to be made a
condition of the liberation of the enslaved. But he hesitated
still to accept the doctrine of immediate emancipation. His
principal objections, however, were alleged against the severity of our denunciations, the harshness of our epithets, the
vehemence, heat, and excitement caused by the harangues at
our meetings, and still more by Mr. Garrison's'Liberator.'
The Doctor dwelt upon these objections, which, if they were
as well founded as he assumed them to be, lay against what
was only incidental, not an essential part of our movement.
He dwelt upon them until I became impatient; and, forgetting for the moment my wonted deference, I broke out with
not a- little warmth of expression and manner.
"' Dr. Channing,' I said,' I am tired of these complaints.
The cause of suffering humanity, the cause of our oppressed,
crushed, colored countrymen, has called as loudly upon others
as upon us Abolitionists. It was just as incumbent upon
others as upon us to espouse it. We are not to blame that
wiser and better men did not espouse it long ago. The cry
of millions, suffering the most cruel bondage in our land,




ANTISLA VER Y.                 155
had been heard for half a century, and disregarded. " The
wise and prudent" saw the terrible wrong, but thought it
not wise and prudent to lift a finger for its correction. The'priests and Levites beheld their robbed and wounded countrymen, and passed by on the other side. The children of
Abraham held their peace, and at last " the very stones have
cried out" in abhorrence of this tremendous iniquity. You
must not wonder if many of those who have been left to
take up this great cause do not plead it in all that seemliness
of phrase which the scholars and practised rhetoricians of
our country might use.  You must not expect them to
speak and act with all the calmness and discretion that
clergymen and statesmen might exhibit. But the scholars,
the statesmen, the clergy did nothing, did not seem about to
do any thing; and for my part I thank God that at last any
persons, be they who they may, have earnestly engaged in
this cause; for no movement can be in vain. We Abolitionists
are what we are, babes, sucklings, obscure men, silly women,
publicans, sinners; and we must manage this matter just as
might be expected of such persons as we are. It is unbecoming in abler men who stand by and do nothing to complain
of us because we do no better.
"' Dr. Channing,' I continued with increased earnestness,'it is not our fault that those who might have conducted this
great reform more prudently have left it to us to manage as
we may. It is not our fault that those who might have
pleaded for the enslaved so much more wisely and eloquently,
both with the pen and the living voice, have been silent.
We are not to blame, sir, that you, who, more perhaps than
any other man, might have so raised the voice of remonstrance that it should have been heard throughout the length
and breadth of the land, have not so spoken. And now that
inferior men have been impelled to speak and act against
what you acknowledge to be an awful system of iniquity, it
is not becoming in you to complain of us because we do it in
an inferior style. Why, sir, have you not taken this matter




156         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
in hand yourself? Why have you not spoken to the nation
long ago, as you, better than any other one, could have
spoken?'
" At this point I bethought me to whom I was administering this rebuke, the man who stood among the highest of the
great and good in our land, the man whose reputation for
wisdom and sanctity had become world-wide, the man, too,
who had ever treated me with the kindness of a father, and
whom from my childhood I had been accustomed to revere
more than any one living. I was almost overwhelmed with
a sense of my temerity. His countenance showed that he
was much moved. I could not suppose he would receive all
I had said very graciously. I awaited his reply in painful
expectation. The minutes seemed very long that elapsed
before the silence was broken. Then, in a very subdued
manner and in the kindliest tones of his voice, he said:' Brother May, I acknowledge the justice of your reproof. I
have been silent too long.' Never shall I forget his words,
look, whole appearance. I then and there saw the beauty,
the magnanimity, the humility, of a truly great Christian soul. He was exalted in my esteem more even than
before.
" The next spring," Mr. May adds, "when I removed to
Boston and became the General Agent of the Antislavery
Society, Dr. Channing was the first of the ministers there to
call upon me and express sympathy with me in the great
work to which I had come to devote myself. And during
the whole fourteen months that I continued in that office he
treated me with uniform kindness, and often made anxious
inquiries about the phases of our attempted reform of the
nation." -Recollections, p. 172.
It will be very difficult for most readers at this day
to comprehend the extent and force of the hostility to
the Abolitionists in 1835. Something of it may be




ANTISLA VERY.                157
imagined from the fact that, in the city of Boston,
deemed the home of liberal thought, the "cradle of
liberty," and the seat of education and every benevolent object, not a single church could be obtained for a
meeting or lecture on slavery; not a minister, excepting Dr. Channing and the pastor of Pine Street Church
(Rev. A. A. Phelps?), would even read a notice of such
a meeting; and no public hall of any size and commodiousness could be hired for such use. Faneuil Hall
even, which surely should have re-echoed all appeals
for liberty and justice, was refused, though asked for in a
respectful petition signed by one hundred and twentyfive gentlemen of irreproachable character. But the
same hall was readily granted for a meeting of citizens
to denounce the Abolitionists, and assure the slaveholders that Boston would give them no trouble. As the
combat thickened, Mr. May felt bound to devote more
time and strength to the cause of the slave.
" The demand for antislavery lectures came from all parts
of New England, and from many parts of the Middle and
Western States. A great work was to be done. The fields
were whitening to the harvest, but the laborers were few. I
therefore accepted the renewed invitation of the Massachusetts
Antislavery Society to become its General Agent and Corresponding Secretary, and removed to Boston early in the
spring of 1835. Many of my nearest relatives and dearest
friends received me kindly, indeed, but with sadness. They
feared I should lose my standing in the ministry, and become
an outcast from the churches. For a while it seemed as if
their apprehensions were not groundless. None of the Boston ministers, excepting Dr. Channing, welcomed me. Dr.




158          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
Follen, Dr. Ware, Jr., and Dr. Palfrey were then resident in
Cambridge; Mr. Pierpont was in Europe. James Freeman
Clarke had not left Louisville, and Theodore Parker was a
student in the Divinity School. I was, indeed, soon made to
feel that I was not in good repute. Dr. Ware, Seni6r, who
had charge of the Hollis Street pulpit in the absence of the
pastor, invited me to supply it, if I found I could do so consistently with my new duties. I engaged for two Sundays.
But, at the close of the first, one of the chief officers of
the church waited upon me, by direction of the principal
members, and requested me not to enter their pulpit again,
assuring me, if I should do so, that a dozen or more of the
prominent men with their families would leave the house.
Of course I yielded; and I was not invited into any other
pulpit in the city, excepting Dr. Channing's,,during the fifteen months that I resided there."  Recollections.
We cannot give a better description of Mr. May's
manner as an antislavery lecturer, or a finer example of
the impression that he often made, than will be found
in this letter from  one who caught his spirit, and has
emulated his fidelity:LOUISVILLE, KY., May 16, 1872.
DEAR BROTHER MUMFORD, -A deeply interesting reminiscence of Mr. May has often touched and thrilled me. In
its visitings, it has seemed more like the presence of an angel
form hovering near, than of any well-defined, earthly being;
for I cannot give to the scene which it brings before me exact
date or certain local habitation, and yet the scene itself is
distinctly visible, and its impression as fresh and deep as if
made yesterday.
It was in the town hall of Worcester, I think, and when I
was thirteen or fourteen years of age, that I saw and heard




ANTISLA VERY.                  159
our revered and beloved friend for the first time, and received
the ineffaceable impression. He was speaking-upon the subject of slavery, and I was not then prepared to listen to him
with entirely unprejudiced mind. When a child, I had gone
with my parents to New Jersey, and had lived there five
years. At that time slavery was dying out in that State
under gradual emancipation. Its last remnants only were to
be met with; but I saw enough of the relations which existed
between old family servants and their former masters to
teach me that the service, repulsive as it was to my inborn,
New England love of universal freedom, was not mere chattelism unrelieved by thoughtful kindness, and that slaveholders personally had often risen above the influences of the
slave system. You will readily understand, therefore, why
the reformers, whom our friend represented, should have
appeared to me somewhat unwise ultraists, extremists who
were not altogether just.
Mr. May spoke then as he always spoke. You know he
never compromised, but always said just what he thought
truth and duty required. His analysis of slavery was keen,
and his denunciation of it scathing, withering. Some of his
statements seemed too unqualified and severe, but all present
listened intently. We could not do otherwise, so earnest and
rapt was he.
After he had spoken for a considerable time, a Southern
_gentleman, who chanced to be present, asked permission to
express his dissent from the views advanced. " By all
means," said Mr. May, with the fairness and courtesy always characteristic of him, and urged the stranger to speak
at length and with perfect freedom. When he had finished,
Mr. May replied; and it was his manner and his looks, as
well as his words, while making the rejoinder, that moved
my heart to its depths and filled me with admiration, almost
with awe. So strong and frank was he, yet so mild and
calm, so unfaltering and so loving in spirit, so complete his
self-control, and so evident his heart-felt desire to do justice




160         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
to all, that I could not but feel that we were in the presence
of one whose allegiance to truth was entire, and who would
always, prophet-like, speak what he thought God bade him
speak.
Years passed before I saw him again, but his kindly,
tiuth-illumined face never vanished from my mind; and 1
have always been grateful for the influence then exerted and
for the illustration which the consecrated man then gave of
that highest, most Christ-like attainment and grace,-the
power of speaking the truth in love.
Truly, your brother,
JOHN H. HEYWOOD.
He was mobbed five times; his meetings at Rutland and Montpelier, Vt., and at Haverhill, Mass.,
being "dispersed with violence." Demands came from
several of the Southern legislatures "to suppress all
Abolition societies, and make it penal to print, publish,
or distribute newspapers and tracts having a tendency to excite the slaves to insurrection and revolt."
In his Annual Address to the Legislature of Massachusetts, in January, 1836, Governor Everett not only
severely censured the Abolitionists, but intimated his
opinion that they were guilty of offences punishable at
common law. This portion of the Governor's address
was referred to a joint committee of two from the Senate, and three from the House of Representatives. By
order of the managers of the Massachusetts Antislavery
Society, Mr. May, as their general agent, addressed a
letter to this committee, asking permission to appear




ANTISLAVERY.                  161
before them, and show reasons why there should be no
legislative action of the kind called for by the Southern
legislatures. The request was granted, and the 4th
of March fixed for the hearing. Mr. May opened the
case, set forth the principles of the Abolitionists, the
grounds and methods of their action, and the objects
they desired to attain. He showed that their warfare
on slavery was by moral means, appealing always to
the honor and conscience of the people, and to the beneficial effects which must follow from a great act of
justice. He laid before the committee copies of the
constitutions of the antislavery societies, their rules of
membership, and also their publications generally. He
was ably supported by Dr. Follen, Ellis Gray Loring,
S. E. Sewall, Esq., William Goodell, and others. They
did not speak in vain.
Harriet Martineau was m our country during some
of the earlier struggles of the antislavery cause, and
she has left on record, in her " Society in America,"
vol. iii. page 280, her estimate of Mr. May: —
" I believe Mr. May had the honor of being the first Unitarian pastor who sided with the right. Whether he has
sacrificed to his intrepidity one Christian grace; whether he
has lost one charm of his. piety, gentleness, and charity
amidst the trials of insult which he has had to undergo, I
dare appeal to his worst enemy. Instead of this, his devotion
to a most difficult duty has called forth in him a force of
character, a strength of reason, of which his best friends
were before unaware. It filled me with shame for the weakness of men, in their noblest offices, to hear the insolent comK




162         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
parison with which some of his priestly brethren spoke of a
man whom they have not light and courage enough to follow
through the thickets and deserts of duty, and upon whom
they therefore bestow their scornful pity from out of their
shady bowers of complacency."




CHAPTER XII.
SOUTH SCITUATE, 1836-1842.
THE COLD WATER ARMY. -A PEACE SOCIETY. -THE MISSES
GRIMKE. - A MANLY LETTER. - THEODORE PARKER'S
SERMON.- INTEREST IN EDUCATION.- SYMPATHY WITH
CHILDREN. - MISS CAROLINE TILDEN.- REV. W. P. TIL
DEN.- ACCEPTS THE CHARGE OF THE LEXINGTON NORMAL
SCHOOL.
M    R. MAY was installed pastor of the Church in
South Scituate on the 26th of October, 1836, and
his six years' ministry there was a very happy and useful one. It is still fondly remembered by many grateful
hearts which were first moved to give themselves to
God and humanity by the influence of his life and spirit.
His presence and labors occasioned a great revival of
practical Christianity, which was not limited to his
own parish, but spread throughout Plymouth County in
churches of all denominations. Conventions in behalf
of many philanthropic causes were called, and largely
attended by deeply interested persons.
At that time drunkenness was more common than
it is now; and Mr. May, while doing his utmost to impress his adult hearers with a sense of the enormity of
the evil, and the extent of their peril, devoted himself
mainly to saving the young from this vice. He enlisted
a Cold Water Army composed of children from all




164        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
parts of the town, procuring music, and preparing banners with appropriate devices designed by himself, and
mottoes inscribed in his own handwriting. Many of
these are still carefully preserved. Although not remarkable as works of art, they are very creditable
specimens of his taste and skill, and must have produced a fine effect when he marshalled his five hundred
young followers under these flags, and all recited in
concert, -
" So here we pledge perpetual hate
To all that can intoxicate."
Often they marched through the streets with Mr. May
at their head; but sometimes they held picnics in the
groves and fields, a field near his own house being called
The Field of Waterloo.
All the rum-shops in town were closed with one
exception, and finally this obstinate seller capitulated.
Mr. May resolved to have a public execution of the
last enemy. He got hold of the remaining liquors in
the man's shop, procured an old horse and cart to
carry the barrels to the scene of action, and summoned
his little army. They came in full ranks to the appointed grove. He made an address, led them in
singing, and then took an axe and beat in the head of
every barrel. As the contents flowed forth upon the
earth, the children are said to have cheered as boys
and girls have seldom cheered. His precepts and example made such an impression upon some of their
minds that, when they afterwards became members of
the church, they would never partake of wine even at
the Lord's Supper.




SOUTH SCITUATE, 1836-1842.        165
He organized a Peace Society in the Sunday school,
and gave six copies of "A Kiss for a Blow" to the
library, so that every child might be sure to read it.
Most of the children received his Gospel of Universal
Freedom with prompt enthusiasm, and became stanch
adherents of the antislavery cause. One of them wrote,
long afterwards: "When I first read of our immortal
Lincoln signing that glorious Proclamation of Emancipation, next to my rejoicing for the poor slave was the
thought,'Oh, how happy Mr. May is now! I am so
glad he has lived to see this day."'
Early in 1837 Sarah and Angelina Grimke, of South
Carolina, came to Massachusetts, invited by the State
Antislavery Society to address meetings of their own
sex. At fiist Mr. May's sense of propriety was somewhat disturbed, but he soon saw that it was " a miserable prejudice that would forbid woman to speak in
behalf of the suffering just as her heart may prompt,
and as God has given her power." He invited the
Misses Grimk6 to his house, and made arrangements
for their meetings in Scituate, Hingham, and Cohasset.
He was so active in the antislavery cause and in other
great reforms, while at South Scituate, that some persons thought that he was not so useful in the ministry
as he might have been if he had restricted himself to
what was then called "the Gospel." But his course
was always without concealment, and without compromise. We are not fully acquainted with the circumstances alluded to in this letter which we have found
among his papers, but the letter itself has a very manly
ring:



166         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
SOUTH SCITUATE, June 25, 1839.
REV. C. BRIGGS,
Cor. Sec'y of the American Unitarian Association.
DEAR SIR,- Yours of yesterday came to me this afternoon. I am ready and willing to go to East Greenwich and
labor to bring those who will hear me to the knowledge of
Christian truth as it is understood by Unitarians. But if I
go under the auspices of the American Unitarian Association,
I must go feeling that I have the confidence of its Executive
Committee. Unless they can trust me, they ought not to
send me.
And what do they mean by "Unitarian cause exclusively "?
I believe that the Unitarian cause includes every thing that
Christianity includes. Do they restrict it to something less?
Or do they suspect me of wishing to spend my strength for any
thing that Christianity excludes? If they wish me purposely
to omit, in my preaching, any of the doctrines or precepts of
Christ, I cannot act as their agent. If they apprehend that
I shall propound some false doctrines, or inculcate false principles, they ought not to send me forth. Are they unwilling
I should show the people, if I can, that Unitarian principles
are fundamental to all individual improvement, and to all
social reform?  And that Unitarian Christians, if consistent,
will be heartily disposed to every good work? If they are
thus unwilling, I cannot consent to go for them.
But I am reluctant to believe they meant what their note
implies. On further consideration, I hope they will strike
out the condition they have prescribed, and let me go to
Greenwich as a man, and a Unitarian Christian especially,
ought to go.
I shall be happy, unless prevented by something now unforeseen, to preach at.East Greenwich the second and third
Sundays in August next.
Yours truly,        SAMUEL J. MAY.
We give the following anecdote as it has been related
by Mr. Parker Pillsbury: -




SOUTH SCITUATE, 1836-1842.            167
When Theodore Parker preached his memorable sermon
at the ordination of Mr. Shackford, at South Boston, Mr.
May was the settled minister of South Scituate, Mass. The
sermon was printed, and, with a copy of it in my valise, I
called, in my regular round of antislavery lecturing, on Mr.
May. He and Mrs. May had other company, but insisted
on my remaining during the afternoon, and till lecture time.
In course of conversation, the new heresy and its author
came up, and I asked if any one present had seen the sermon. None had, and so I produced it. Mr. May proposed
that I should read it. He and others declining, I did so. I
had read it, and had marked some passages as of peculiar significance, and so endeavored to give them what emphasis I
could in this second, but wholly unexpected, reading, and to
an audience so worthy. The company heard me in silence
to the last word.
" After a pause, Mr. May said:' Oh, is not that a beautiful sermon?' To which all assented in general terms; but
some present took exception to some passages. Mr. May,
however, defended the discourse in the main, praised the
ability and extolled the heroism of its author, at the same
time murmuring the fear that, as a recognized Unitarian
minister, he had sealed his doom.
I" Mr. May's conduct towards Mr. Parker ever after, while
he preached in Boston, and while he lived, proved how sincere, manly, and brotherly was his regard for him and his
work. "
Mr. May was unwearied in his interest in education.
Through his instrumentality several bright young
women were persuaded to go to the Normal School, and
be partially sustained there. Their own fathers could
hardly have taken greater interest and pride in their
subsequent success. To one of them, Mrs. Helen J.
Parmenter, now of Arlington, Mass., we are indebted




168          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
for the following letter relating to school days at Scituate, addressed to Rev. W. P. Tilden:"We used to enjoy having him come into school. He
was always delighted with us if we did well, and had such
pleasant things to say to us. He was particularly desirous
that we should be good readers and spellers; and to this day
I hardly ever write the word separate without thinking
of him, he used to ask us so often whether there should be
an a or an e after the p.
" He used to bring his father in to see us when he came to
Scituate, and in so many ways made us children in that little,
old, poor school-house feel that we were of some account.
When I got to be one of the largest girls, he used to bring
into the school letters for us to copy. He had so many
letters to write that, when he wanted duplicates of any, we
often used to help him. Very careful we were, I can assure
you, that there should be no words spelled wrong, and that
the writing should be our very best.
" One thing that endeared him very much to the children
was his sympathy with them in their enjoyments, and the
interest he showed in promoting their pleasure in every possible way. As an instance of this, he had a nice swing put
up under a large tree near his house, between the schoolhouse and his home.
" But how interminable would be the list of kind and
helpful deeds with which his long life was filled, more than
filled, running over! I wonder if you have the same feeling
that I have when you come across persons that never saw or
knew him, a feeling of commiseration, as if a great blessing
had been withheld, as if their lives must necessarily be by so
much the poorer?
"I suppose they told you in Scituate all about his last
visit, when they had a picnic and such a grand reception for
him. Emily read a poem of welcome. Mr. May tried to
reply, but could not, for tears."




SOUTH SCITUATE, 1836-1842.           169
Miss Caroline Tilden, of South Scituate, afterwards
became Mr. May's assistant in the Normal School at
Lexington. He said, in 1867: —
"I discovered her genius while she was the modest mistress
of a village school, and induced her to go to the Normal
School at Bridgewater. She prepared herself to be the
inspiring genius of many who were seeking to acquire the
art of teaching."
In his life at Scituate nothing interested Mr. May
more, or gave him   greater satisfaction, than his success in confirming the purpose of Rev. W. P. Tilden
to become a Christian minister. He always looked
back to the instruction and encouragement given to this
dear son in the faith with especial pride and delight.
What this intimate and tender relation was to Mr.
Tilden, we may learn from his tribute to the memory of
his spiritual father, in the "Religious Magazine."
"Perhaps I cannot better hint of the blessing he was to
many than by first telling a little of what he was to one. I
first became acquainted with him in South Scituate about
thirty-five years ago, when he came, fresh from his faithful
service as General Agent of the Antislavery Society, to become
the minister of my native parish. I was at this period using
what time I could spare from daily toil in study, hoping, if
possible, some day to enter the Christian ministry. But I
soon found that the path from the ship-yard to the pulpit
was not carpeted with flowers.'The pursuit of knowledge
under difficulties,' so fascinating in books, I found a somewhat different thing in real work-day life; and I confess that
at times the sky grew very dark. The light of hope, at first
so bright, receded from a star of the first magnitude to a faroff glimmer in the upper deep, and sometimes threatened to
8




170         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
go out in darkness. Just at this time came Mr. May. He
took my hand; the sky cleared. He clasped it in that broad,
warm, loving palm: the star came back, full-orbed and
glorious. Oh, what a clasp that right hand had! He never
gave his finger-tips. He gave the whole palm, and it carried
with it a whole flood of sympathy and strength. He seemed
to have an extra set of nerves made for the special purpose of
transmitting sympathy and cheer straight from his heart to
ours. For three blessed years I was in almost daily intercourse with him. I heard him preach on Sundays, and,
what was better, saw him practise through the week what he
preached. I read with him, studied with him, talked with
him, laughed with him, prayed with him, worked with him;
went to temperance, antislavery, and peace meetings with
him; superintended his Sabbath-school: till at last he entrapped me to preach for him, and then sent me out with
his blessing to preach to others. How brightly the light
of those golden days shines through the azure distance of
thirty years! "
On the 12th of September, 1842, Mr. May made the
following entry in his diary: -
"This day I have left South Scituate and removed to
Lexington, to take charge of the Lexington Normal School,
instituted three years ago for the preparation of female
teachers for our common schools. I have been induced to
take this step by the urgent solicitation of Hon. Horace
Mann, Secretary of the Board of Education, and of Rev.
Cyrus Pierce, the former teacher of this school, who, by
the multiplicity of his cares and the severity of his labors,
has been overborne and obliged to retire. He and Mr.
Mann have not indeed persuaded me that I am competent to
the place, but they have induced me to attempt to do the
duties that are incumbent upon the Principal of the school.
I pray God for wisdom to direct me, and for strength to
sustain."




CHAPTER XIII.
PRINCIPAL OF THE STATE NORMAL SCHOOL AT
LEXINGTON.
LETTER TO HORACE MANN ABOUT THE ADVANTAGES OF NORMAL SCHOOL EDUCATION.-THE SPIRIT IN WHICH HE
GOES TO HIS NEW DUTIES. —HIS QUALIFICATIONS FOR
THE WORK. -BECOMES DISCOURAGED. -CHEERING LETTERS FROM MESSRS. PIERCE AND MANN.-DEFENCE OF
HIS ATTENDING AN ANTISLAVERY MEETING AND TAKING
SOME OF HIS PUPILS. -RESIGNS IN FAVOR OF MR. PIERCE.
-THE SECRET OF MR. MAY'S SUCCESS AS A TEACHER.
"LOVE THE UNLOVELY."
M    R. MANN found a warmer living interest in common school education in Plymouth County than
almost anywhere else, and traced it, in a large degree,
to the active interest of Mr. May, in speaking of whom
it is not just to forget the zeal and activity of Rev.
Charles Brooks, in another part of the county.
On Feb. 13, 1842, Mr. Mann received the following
letter:HON. HORACE MANN.
DEAR SIR, -I heard, a few days ago, that application is
to be made to our legislature, during the present session, for
a grant of means to sustain our Normal Schools, at least for
another term of three years. Let it be done, and earnestly
done. I cannot think it will be unsuccessful. It ought not
to fail. There is no project which the legislators of a free




172         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
people should be more careful to encourage than one for the
better education of the whole people....
I have heard of good done by the Normal Schools at Lexington and Barre, but I have seen the good effects of our own
school at Bridgewater, although it has been in operation
only seventeen months.
He then gives several instances of striking success in
the teaching of young persons who, before they went to
the Normal School, had been rather poor teachers.
One kept, in this town, the Union or High School. Many
thought she had undertaken more than she could perform... I confess I trembled for her. But the success of her
labors was complete; it was beautiful. For the first two
or three weeks, appearances were squally. She had not the
physical ability, if she had had the disposition, to force her,pupils to observe her directions and attend diligently to their
studies. At the close of the first month, however, the clouds
had dispersed, and the sunshine of peace and love had settled
upon her school. She had succeeded in perfectly establishing her authority, by inspiring her pupils with respect and
affection for herself, and so generally with a desire to learn,
that the public sentiment of the school was favorable to study
and good order.... The discipline of the school was unusually strict; not the least whispering was allowed.... I
never was in a school so still.... A strict account was
kept of the deportment of the pupils, and the number of
violations of the rules of the school was incredibly small.
More progress had been made, when I visited the school, at
its close, than I have ever known to be made in any common
school during the same length of time; and the recitations
of the pupils were altogether more satisfactory.... Perhaps some may surmise that this young lady has naturally
an aptness to teach. I think it probable that she has. But
her talent was developed at the Normal School; for she had




PRINCIPAL OF NORMAL SCHOOL.             173
tried school-keeping before she went to Bridgewater, and had
not been very successful, for the want of something which
she acquired. under Mr. Tillinghast's instructions..
I am, very respectfully, yours,
SAMUEL J. MAY.
When Mr. Cyrus Pierce, the first Principal of the
State Normal School, broke down from over-exertion,
Mr. Mann urged Mr. May to take his place. It was in
vain that Mr. May declared his incompetency to the
duties of teaching, and entire content with his place
and office in the pulpit. Mr. Mann insisted; and Mr.
May consented to go, on condition that Miss Caroline
Tilden, "who did know how to teach," should accompany him. In a letter to Mr. Mann, of July 29, in
answer, he says:"Nothing prevents my saying, at once, that I will accept
the appointment, if the Board see fit to make it, but the consciousness of my inability to perform well all the duties of
the station. I do not know of any other place of usefulness
into which I should so rejoice to be put, if I were competent
to fill it as it ought to be filled."
These misgivings were compelled to give way to the
urgency of Mr. Mann and Mr. Pierce.
On August 17th he writes: —
"DEAR SIR, —It has leaked out that I am to be Mr.
Pierce's successor. The girls suspected as much from my
visit of two days last week;-... and Mr. Pierce, taking it
for granted that your nomination would fix the choice of the
Board, allowed himself to encourage their suspicion, so that
yesterday it went forth on the wings of common report. So
far as my feelings are concerned, this need give you no pain.




174          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
Much as I long to give myself to the cause of education,
which alone can effect that reform, or those reforms, in the
personal and social state of man which it is my heart's desire
and prayer to witness, the load of responsibility, care, and
labor that Mr. Pierce has laid down is so weighty that I shall
feel relieved if I may be excused from taking it up.
"Of course you will inform me, so soon as the decision of
the Board is known to yourself. I have a surgical operation
to go through, in separating myself from my people at South
Scituate, which cannot be despatched in a day."
On the 5th of November, he writes to Mr. Mann: —
" MY DEAR SIR, -I have passed the Rubicon, and burnt
up my boats. I went last Saturday to Scituate, took a final
leave of my Society, demolished my home, removed my furniture, and came back to Lexington, resolved to give up myself, body and soul, to the cause of education. You can have
little idea of the struggle it has cost me. But, now it is over,
I feel relieved, calm, resolved, cheerful. I dread nothing
save the question, between myself and the Board, respecting
the admission of a colored girl. That, however, may never
arise. I think it never will arise. If it should, I hope I shall
be directed into the right course."
Mr. May and Miss Tilden went together to the school.
at Lexington, where Mr. May supplied his deficiencies
in experience and practice by qualities higher than mere
skill in teaching, though that is a very high, and was
then a very rare, quality; and Miss Tilden, who had
been instructed by Mr. Tillinghast, introduced a style
of teaching which was unsurpassed, and, perhaps, unsurpassable.
It is a precious fact that Mr. May, by the purity, elevation, and disinterestedness of his Christian character,




PRINCIPAL OF NORMAL SCHOOL.           175
without large experience or skill in teaching, should
have been able to raise the tone of a school, the excellence of which, from the integrity, devotedness, and
skill of its first teacher, Mr. Pierce, had secured the
blessings of Normal School instruction to the schools
of Massachusetts.
On the 29th of next September, however, he writes
to Mr. Mann:"DEAR SIR,- I have made up my mind to resign my
place as Principal,... and wish you to consider this a
tender of my resignation."
After enumerating various difficulties, especially the
severity of the labors and cares, and their effects upon
his nerves, so that he cannot sleep, and upon his
lungs, so that he can hardly speak, he adds: —
"' But, more than all, I find myself incompetent to the duties of the place. The Institution, I fear, will decline in my
hands. I know what it should be; but I have so little facility
in managing the details of the plan, that dissatisfaction has
been the reward of my labors, almost every night.
" Were it not for this, if I could see the Normal School
flourishing, or foresee that it would flourish, under my administration, I should'count it 1ll joy' to spend and be
spent in its behalf. It seems to me that I would willingly
die, if by such a sacrifice I could make the school what it
should be.
" I will remain at Lexington, if you wish, several weeks,
that you may have time to find a successor."
After suggesting the names of several persons as
likely to fill the place successfully, he concludes: -




176         LIFE OF SAJ/UEL J. MAY.
" In resigning this most interesting charge, I cannot withhold heart-felt expressions of gratitude to you, sir, for the
favor you have intended, and for the great kindness you have
uniformly shown me."
To this doleful letter Mr. Mann made a cheerful and
most witty answer, and really laughed him out of his
downheartedness. He received a letter from Rev. C.
Pierce, Sept. 27, 1843, in which he comes to Mr. Mann's
aid:
" DEAR MAY, - Yours of the 23d instant, which came to
hand yesterday, though a very good and interesting letter on
the whole, has, in one part, so troubled me that I cannot
longer defer answering it. The amount of it is this: In very
smooth and pleasant, yet in very plain terms, you charge
upon me the enormity of' enticing and flattering you away
into the Normal School;' and, in language of grave reproof,
put the interrogatory,'How could you, after thirty years'
experience, think I was fit for it?'
" Now, dear child, hear my defence, as strange as it may
seem to you. I thought then, and I think now, there was no
person into whose hands I could so safely commit the school
as into yours. My reasons are these: 1. God has blessed
you, as I think, with the right temper and disposition for a
schoolmaster (a very important qualification); 2. You have
a deep interest in children ard school education; and, 3. The
drift of your reading, habit of thinking, and general knowledge have been such as to adapt you to the office of teacher.
If I did not make allowance enough on the score of difficulty
from the want of experience,... yet still, in one calculation, I was not in error; namely, that your diligence and
aptness to learn would fast make up for any want of experience. Time, if I do not misjudge, is rapidly showing that I
was right in my conjecture. Resign! resign!! You have
begun auspiciously.  Perge quo coepisti. The school has




PRINCIPAL OF NORMAL SCHOOL.            177
risen and enlarged in your hands. What would you have?... Dismiss all thoughts of resignation, and hold on the
even tenor of your way, steady as the needle to the pole."
In the course of the next winter, however, Mr. Mann
wrote to him, finding fault with his having gone to an
antislavery meeting at Waltham, taking some of his
pupils, and making a speech there. To this he immediately answered:LEXINGTON, Feb. 8, 1843.
HON. HORACE MANN.
MY DEAR SIR, -I am sorry to have caused you so much
anxiety, and hasten to relieve you as far as I may.
As to the lecture, from the delivery of which you apprehend so much evil, I made up my mind, several days ago,
that I could not take time enough to prepare such a one as I
should be willing to deliver in the proposed course, without
neglecting my immediate, paramount duties here; and therefore determined to withdraw my name from the list of lecturers. Accordingly, I wrote to my antislavery friends to
this effect.
It is my wish still to be known of all men as an Abolitionist. Nothing seems to me so impious, foolhardy, fanatical,
as the attempt to perpetuate slavery in our country, although
I see so many of' the wise and prudent " enlisted on that
behalf. It is my intention to do what I may, without neglecting or slighting my duties to the Normal School, to aid the
antislavery cause. I declared this intention to you, most
explicitly, in our first conversation at Bridgewater. I told
you that, whenever I could, without a dereliction of duty, I
should attend antislavery meetings; that I should retain my
office in the Massachusetts and American antislavery societies, - and contribute to their funds all the more, because I
should not be able to serve them otherwise, as I have been
wont to do. I assured you, if I took charge of this Institu.
8*                   L




178         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
tion, that the care of it Should be my first object of attention,
and that to its interests I would devote the best powers of
my mind. And I predicted that I should have but little time
or thought to spare to other subjects, however important. I
have thus far done as I promised; and if I continue here
I shall be as devoted as I have been.
My going to Waltham, and carrying with me a number of
my pupils, was no departure from the course I prescribed to
myself at first, nor did it involve any neglect of duty. My
speech there took up no more of my time than was occupied
in the utterance of it. It was not a written nor a premeditated address, but wholly extempore. The meeting was
held on a Saturday evening. I could therefore go without
leaving any thing undone. Many of my pupils are Abolitionists. They were so when they came here, or were made
so by Father Pierce. They expressed a desire to attend the
meeting, to which they, with the rest of the people, were
invited by placards sent over from Waltham and scattered
through our village. It was very fine sleighing, which made
them more desirous to go. The getting ready took but a
short time. We went, and enjoyed the meeting highly, excepting an injudicious speech. If the young lady to whom
you referred in a former letter really was prevented from
joining our school by the reason you have assigned, she
must be, I think, in mind and heart very inferior to many
who are now in it.
Nor was my consenting to be one of the lecturers of the
proposed course any breach of my important trust. I consented, supposing my turn would come in my next vacation,
and that I should be left to take a subject upon which I have
a carefully prepared address. But when I saw the advertisement of the course, I found that another (Wendell Phillips)
had taken my subject, and that another subject had been
assigned to me, upon which I felt little inclined to write, and
unable to do so well, without a careful revision of my former
opinions, and much study of recent documents. This determined me to withdraw from the course.




PRINCIPAL OF NORMAL SCHOOL.            179
I have gone thus at length into an account of myself, because I wish to satisfy you, if I may, that I have not been
unmindful of my charge, and that I shall not be.
And now, my friend, allow me to say to you, that I think
your fear of the effect of my Abolitionism upon the prosperity
of the Normal School is undue. This heresy is rapidly becoming orthodoxy in our Commonwealth. It is embraced by
a much larger portion than you are aware of, of that class of
the people which furnishes the most of our school-teachers.
I have myself been surprised to find so large a part of my
pupils zealous in the antislavery cause. But if you and the
other supporters of the school are to be made unhappy, and
filled with alarm, whenever I do or say any thing that shows
how deeply I am interested in the redemption of our country
from the curse of slavery, it will certainly be better for me
quietly to withdraw, on the plea of my incompetency, and
leave the Institution in better hands.
Yours very truly,      SAMUEL J. MAY.
I am happy to inform you that the Normal School is full,
and that there are thirty pupils in the Model School, which
is doing finely.
The school continued to flourish and to increase
rapidly in numbers. When he took it there were
thirty-one pupils: in June, 1844, he wrote to Mr.
Mann that there were sixty-six, of whon thirty-one
belonged to the Freshman class.
In July, he tells Mr. Mann that he hears that Mr.
Pierce has almost entirely.recovered his health, and,
"if he can be induced to return," he says, "I cannot
persuade myself that I ought to remain here. He has
much vigor of mind and body left, and it is a pity that
his experience, wisdom, and skill should not be given to




180         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
the Normal enterprise. I presume the Board would
rejoice to have him again in their service; and I hope,
before the close of this term, to send you my resignation in his favor."
Very soon after, he sends to Mr. Mann the following
letter -
LEXINGTON, July 17, 1844.
HON. HORACE MANN.
DEAR SIR,-I hasten to forward you the enclosed from
Mr. Pierce.
Knowing, as I do, how highly you and other members of the
Board esteem Mr. Pierce as a teacher, I doubt not you will
all rejoice to see him again in the place.where he did you and
the Commonwealth such good service.
If he will accept, as he seems disposed to do, the arrangements I have made, he will keep even a better school than he
did before. If he will retain Miss Tilden and Miss Iincoln
as his assistants, and keep up the musical and the drawing
departments, -with his vigilant oversight and vigorous and
exact executive talents, he will make this Institution much
more efficient than it was before in his hands, and incomparably more so than it would ever be in mine. I am too indulgent, and cannot help being. I am not, therefore, sufficiently
thorough and exact in all my requirements. Mr. Pierce is
as kind a man as lives; and yet he never swerves from the
line he has marked, nor allows others to swerve. He is
the man for this place, and I am confident that I am doing
the cause of education a better service in resigning this
school into his hands than I could do by retaining it.
In a few days I will send, through your hands, to the
Board of Education my formal resignation. I despatch this
to you, that you may have all the time you can have between
now and the opening of the next term to make what arrangements you may wish to make with my successor.




PRINCIPAL OF NORMAL SCHOOL.              181
During the vacation, if possible, but certainly before your
annual report is presented, I mean to furnish you with
evidences of the usefulness of this Institution.
With great esteem, yours,
SAMUEL J. MAY.
Mr. May's success in the school was complete, giving
entire satisfaction to all but himself. In the following
extracts from a letter to Mr. Mann, of Oct. 20, 1844,
after he had left the school, he gives the secret of his
success: -
"MY DEAR SIR, -I thank you heartily for giving me notice
of the Essex County Teachers' Convention. I went to it, and
rejoice that I did so. It was a large gathering; and there
were several choice spirits there besides D. P. Page, who is
first-rate..
"I ventured to address the meeting upon the subject of
the management of schools; and the reception given to my
remarks (I say it sub rosa), while it gratified me much, surprised me not a little. I first dwelt for a few minutes upon
the importance of attention to little things, applying to
schools the old adage,' Take care of the pence, and the
pounds will take care of themselves.'
" And then I urged, at some length, that teachers should
go into their schools in the spirit of Christ, meaning to seek
and to save them that are lost; being especially mindful of
the neglected, ill-looking, ill-dressed, ill-tempered, not wishing them away, but rejoicing to have an opportunity to do
for them in school what is not done for them at home. Let
this class of children be at once made to feel that they are
really cared for; that they are not shunned, but sought after;
not despised, but valued; not doubted, but trusted; not
despaired of, but hoped for.: let them be treated thus, and a
prolific source of trouble in schools would be dried up. Love
the unlovely, and they will put their unloveliness away.




182         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
Several arose in quick succession, and declared this to be the
most important suggestion they had yet received. Father G.
said (mirabile dictu!) that this was entirely new to him; that
he had never before heard this method proposed; that he felt
deeply that there was a great truth in it; and that he would go
home and try to act in accordance with it. So said several
others; and' love the unlovely' was heard from various quarters as we were going out of the house, along the road, and
after we had reached the hotel. I was really a little disconcerted to find that it was a new discovery to so many, that'evil might be overcome with good' in schools no less than
elsewhere."
On the 20th of August, 1844, Mr. May writes to
Mr. Mann -
"Father Pierce spent Saturday night and Sunday with
me. It did my heart good to see how much he has revived
since his reappointment. Now that all the teachers of the
Normal School are of my selection, I am confident it will
flourish as it never could have done under the Principal you
persuaded to take it two years ago. So confident am I, that
I will almost promise, if I am disappointed, to assist you to
get the last incumbent back and never stir a finger to remove
him again.
" I settled my account with the treasurer yesterday, allowing my connection with the school to cease with the close of
this month; so that Father Pierce's salary may commence
with the first of September....
" A few weeks hence I hope to be more at liberty, and then
I will devote some time to lecturing in the cause of education.   Respectfully, your obliged friend,
" SAMUEL J. MAY."




CHAPTER XIV.
MINISTRY AT SYRACUSE.
GAVE HIS VIEWS OF REFORMS WHILE PREACHING AS A CANDIDATE. -STAYS IN LEXINGTON TO SETTLE A DIFFICULTY
ABOUT A CHURCH FUND.-HIS PREACHING. HIS PASTORAL LIFE.-OUTSIDE MINISTRIES.-THE CANAL BOYS.
-POPULAR LECTURES.-ASYLUMS.-THE ONONDAGA INDIANS.-THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN. SERMON BEFORE TIHE
GRADUATING CLASS AT CAMBRIDGE DIVINITY SCHOOL.-'PUBLIC DISCUSSION OF THE DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY.
— THEODORE PARKER. -LUTHER LEE.-MARKET-HALL
DISCUSSIONS.-RESIGNS HIS PASTORATE. -MISSIONARY OP
THE AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION.
IN 1843, while on a journey to Niagara Falls, Mr.
May occupied the pulpit of Rev. J. P. B. Storer
at Syracuse, for several Sundays. When Mr. Storer's
sudden death deprived this young church of their
pastor, they sent for Mr. May; and, after hearing him
again, gave him a unanimous invitation to become their
minister. The call was accepted the more readily
because, during the week between the two Sundays
when he was preaching practically as a candidate, he
had delivered addresses on the reforms in which he was
deeply interested. He said, "I intended they should
clearly understand whom they were calling, if they
called me."
He began to discharge the duties of his new post in
April, 1845. In one of the notes appended to his
"Brief Account of his Ministry," he says:



184         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. M       Y.
"I should have come to reside in Syracuse several months
sooner than I did, but for a serious, vexatious difficulty in
which the churches of Lexington had been involved for
twenty years or more, respecting a large fund for the support
of the ministry of the town. The fund was created by subscriptions and donations at an early day, when there was
only one Church there. But in process of time differences
of theological belief had arisen amongst the people, and
churches of several denominations had been gathered. Each
of these claimed a share of the fund. It became the subject
of repeated litigation. The decisions of the courts and of
the legislature, to whom at length the matter was carried,
were that the income of the fund legally belonged to the old,
original Church. But the claimants were not satisfied, and
discord and strife continued. When I became the temporary
minister of the Old Society, I looked into the matter and
became satisfied that, if the law gave the fund wholly to that
Church, Christian equity did not; and that there would
never be peace and good-fellowship among the people of the
different churches until the income of the fund should be
equitably divided. I was confident that what ought to be
done could be done. I was allowed to devise the plan of
settlement, and remained there long enough to see it accomplished."
Mr. May was nearly forty-eight years old when he
began his work at Syracuse, and his p; orate extended
through more than twenty-two years, ending at the
close of his seventieth year. In all this time he was
very diligent in the work of the ministry.
One striking proof of his love of his calling may be
seen in his power to inspire young men with a desire
to engage in the work of the ministry. We know of
more than half a score who became clergymen under




MINISTRY AT SYRACUSE.             185
his leadership. Messrs. Frederic T. Gray, Samuel May
William P. Tilden, Thomas J. Mumford, and several
others, pursued at least a part of their professional
studies as his pupils.
Looking back upon his life, he expressed his regret
that he had left undone some things "immediately promotive of the improvement and prosperity of a church;"
but although a great deal of his time and much of his
strength were given to the causes of peace, temperance,
freedpm, and popular education, his professional duties
were remarkably well performed. Scores of his sermons, suggested by the events of the times, were published in the daily journals; but the greater part of
his preaching always related to the religious life and
the formation of Christian character. He was fond of
announcing courses of sermons which enabled him to
treat subjects somewhat methodically, and also gave
an enforced direction to his own studies. The nature,
history, and claims of the Bible, were most grandly
presented.  He made Scriptural characters the subjects of many of his most interesting and popular
discourses. But the life and spirit of Jesus were his
favorite topics. Of course there was a practical purpose in all his preaching, and he excelled particularly in
the application of Christianity to domestic, social, and
business life. His delineations of true fathers and
mothers, wives and husbands, brothers and sisters, sons
and daughters, will never be forgotten by those who
listened to them. His views of the use and abuse of
property, the conditions of real respectability, and the




186          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
tests of a noble manhood, were very impressive. He
thought that lawyers; doctors, merchants, and journalists ought to be solemnly ordained at the beginning of
their professional careers, and his sketch of a Charge at
the installation of an editor was especially memorable.
Rev. C. D. B. Mills, one of his most intelligent and
appreciative parishioners, says of Mr. May's work in
the pulpit:" As a preacher Mr. May was always perspicuous, intelligent, and impressive. His evident sincerity, earnest love of
truth, and devotion to his kind invested all that he said with
interest, and attractiveness. He was not always equal with
himself. If his sermons ever seemed dry and uninteresting,
it was when he handled, which he sometimes did (though
quite rarely), doctrines belonging more purely to the domain
of mere speculative theology. I think he never felt at home
there, and he grew more to disuse such subjects in the
pulpit. Rarely what would be called eloquent, he rose not
unfrequently to heights of true inspiration and commanding
power. This was almost uniformly when treating of themes
of great practical duty. The heart seems to have overshadowed the head, making all else beside it to have appeared
comparatively trivial and cheap; but he was certainly a
man, on the intellectual side, of greatly superior endowment.
Some of his sermons were models in thought and expression;
and I have heard from him discourses that in point of quality, in all ways, I think I have never known surpassed.
Those that seemed such to me were not, I believe, generally
in his view among his best. I hope certainly that some of
them may, at no distant day, see the light. He felt the call
to direct practical work for his kind so imperative, that he
left all to follow it, finding comparatively little time for
studies as such, albeit his was a mind of fine general cultivation; but had he been able to give himself with more of ful



MINISTRY AT SYRACUSE.             187
ness in this direction, I doubt not he would have wrought
results in the sphere of pure intellectual inquiry of no common-place or ordinary character.
" His benediction was always emphatically a blessing, such
a beam of the eye, and such clear fervor of the spirit going
out with the invocation of benefit: it was well worth a
good journey to see and hear this alone of a Sunday, say
nothing of any sermon."
In the pastoral office Mr. May was unsurpassed, seldom, if ever, equalled. His great, warm heart was always
ready to respond to any call for sympathy. In times
of trial and distress, his people found him the best of
comforters. It was easier to bear pain in his helpful
presence, and to believe in the Divine tenderness and
forgiving love, while witnessing such a wealth of human
affection and forbearance. Hundreds outside of his
own congregation sought for him in seasons of distress
and bereavement. He was often called to neighboring,
and even distant, towns on sacred errands of consolation. A family of Episcopalians were present at the
funeral of a child which was conducted by Mr. May.
Losing one of their own little boys soon afterwards,
and yearning for such faith and hope as they felt that
only Mr. May could impart, they sent for him. A few
months later he went to Europe, and the grateful father sent him a hundred dollars to purchase memorials
of his travels, in remembrance of his kindness in the
time of darkness.
We were at Syracuse once when an old gentleman
from Trenton, who had come to attend an Autumnal
Convention, was drowned in the canal, and at the same




188        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
time a train on the New York Central Railroad ran off
the track a few miles from Syracuse. Several persons
were severely injured, while a lady from Toronto, Canada, was instantly killed. In addition to his labors in
behalf of the convention, who were the guests of his
people, Mr. May devoted much time to efforts to find
the drowned man, who, before his fate was ascertained,
was supposed to have wandered off into the country;
and he would also go to the hotel where the suffreers
from the railroad accident were lying, and carry from
room to room the blessing of his tender words and loving acts. He found that he could not do all that he
was desired to do, because the bereaved families at both
Trenton and Toronto asked for his presence at the
burials; and he had to choose between the funeral
occasions.
While Mr. May was an acceptable preacher and a
beloved pastor, his own parish did not absorb all his
interest and energy; for he was active in every good
work.
The first year that he lived in Syracuse he had occasion to pass and repass the bridges every day, and he
was shocked by the loathsome condition of the thousands of boys employed upon the Erie Canal, their
terrible profanity and disgusting obscenity. In December, 1845, Mr. May was invited to a clerical party at
the house of Rev. Dr. Adams, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church. He told the ministers what he had
heard of the wrongs and exposure of the canal boys, and
what he had seen of their degradation; and a Memorial




MINISTRY AT SYRACUSE.            189
was at once prepared and sent to the legislature, asking
for the passage of such an Act as would secure to the
canal boys protection of their persons, and compensation for their services; homes and suitable instruction
in the winters for that large portion of them who were
parentless; and a Reformatory for those who should
become delinquents. Public meetings were held, correspondence was opened with men of influence along
the lines of the canals of the State, and the cause was
earnestly advocated in the Senate and Assembly of
New York. The legislation upon the subject was not
satisfactory to Mr. May, but it became more difficult for
the public to wholly forget the claims of an unfortunate
class upon their sympathy and help.
He was chiefly instrumental in instituting courses of
popular lectures in the town, and became known as an
enlightened and devoted friend of education, delivering
many lectures on public instruction and assisting at
Teachers' Institutes and Educational Conventions. To
Cornell University he gave his large collection of books
and pamphlets relating to slavery and the antislavery
contest in this country. He was known far and wide
as an earnest friend of temperance. He was deeply
interested in the Asylum for the Feeble-Minded, the
hospital, city library, and reading-room.
It was hard for him to regard the Indians as a hopeless race. He helped those in his neighborhood to raise
the means to build a school-house; procured a good
teacher; obtained from the Superintendent of Public
Instruction an annual appropriation for her support, and




190         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
for that of her successors, for twenty years. He visited
the school frequently, and obtained money from Boston
to aid in the support of the Mission established by the
Methodist Conference. He was repeatedly called upon
to settle the difficulties of their teacher and missionary,
and the Indians themselves often resorted to him for
all sorts of advice and help. Sometimes groups of
them would sit stolidly in his study for hour after hour
Whenever he visited the Reservation their faces lighted
up with joy and welcome. The whole tribe knew him,
A friend who accompanied him the last time he visited
these Indians says: "An Indian boy overtook us, and
ran nearly half a mile beside the carriage to talk with
Mr. May."
In 1846 he preached and published his first sermon
on "The Rights of Woman." It was republished in
this country and in England, having a larger circulation than any other writing that he ever gave to the
press. He never wavered in his convictions, and declared, near the close of his life: —
" I am fully persuaded that never will our governments
be wisely and happily administered until we have mothers
as well as fathers of the State."
In 1847, the graduating class of the Cambridge Divinity School invited Mr. May to preach before them.
On the 11th of July, he delivered a sermon on "Jesus
the Best Teacher of his Religion." At the close he
said: -
" Young gentlemen, by whose invitation I am here on this
interesting occasion: you are about to go forth as ministers




MINISTRY AT SYRACUSE.              191
of Christianity, at a day when courage, as well as piety and
learning, will be needed by you. May you have all the gifts
and graces of true followers of Christ. If you go to your
work in the simplicity, the truthfulness, the faith, the love
of Jesus, you will not preach in vain. Go, I trust you will,
not to be masters of ceremonies, but to be earnest, hard
workers in the service of God and mankind. Care not so
much whither you go, as in what spirit you go. There may
be a choice in places, but there is no choice for you in purposes. Wherever you go, you should go with the determination to do the work of the Lord, to redeem men from
ignorance, sin, and misery. This is the end for which Christ
lived and died. This is the end to which you should live,
and die, if fidelity to your duty demands the sacrifice."
In 1854, Mr. May had a discussion of the doctrine of
the Trinity with Rev. Luther Lee, a distinguished Wesleyan minister. It began on Feb. 28, 1854, and ended
on March 23. Eleven evenings were devoted to it, and
the City Hall was filled with " an immense audience,
hundreds being unable to get in."  The.speeches were
carefully reported, and afterwards published together.
There was much excitement, but the controversialists
preserved their self-control, and there was no breaking
off of their friendly relations.
Mr. Lee tried to identify Mr. May's opinions with
those of Theodore Parker, which were the objects of
especial dread on the part of most of the religious people of Syracuse. Mr. Parker and Mr. May were very
intimate friends, and loved each other dearly. Early
in their acquaintance, Mr. May had warned Mr. Parker
most faithfully against his tendency to indulge in harsh




192          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
and bitter personalities; but this candor was received
as kindly as it was given. Mr. May sold large numbers
of Mr. Parker's books, and procured many invitations
for him to lecture in Central New York. Mr. Parker
often preached in Mr. May's church. This fact Mr.
Lee sought to turn to controversial account, but Mr.
May replied -
"Mr. Lee has endeavored to associate me in your minds
with Theodore Parker. Of this I do not complain, though
it has nothing to do with. our argument. But why should
Mr. Lee, and my Orthodox neighbors generally, take it for
granted that my theological opinions are coincident with Mr.
Parker's, because I have invited him to preach in my pulpit
and have myself preached in his?  I have had the same
friendly intercourse with Swedenborgian, Methodist, Baptist, and Presbyterian (or Orthodox Congregationalist) ministers. They have preached in my pulpit, and I in theirs;
yet I never heard the intimation that Mr. May had become,
or was becoming,' evangelical,' when any of these lastnamed exchanges took place.
" The ground of my great regard for Mr. Parker personally, and of my ministerial intercourse with him and with some
preachers of the different Orthodox sects, has not been an
agreement in our system of theological belief so much as a mutual recognition of our right to differ in our interpretation of
the Bible;'and, still more, a similar appreciation of the great
practical purposes of the gospel, and of the demands of our
Lord that are upon us all to co-operate with him, and with
one another, in the redemption of the world from ignorance,
sin, and misery. I respect Theodore Parker because he is a
man of great intellect and of wonderful acquisitions. I love
him because he consecrates so much of his knowledge, his
genius, and his eloquence to the cause of suffering, outraged
humanity. I honor him because he is no respecter of per



MINISTRY AT SYRACUSE.                193
sons, doth not regard the rich more than the poor. As
Jesus, our pattern in all things, did, so does he assail, frequently and fearlessly, the high and lifted up' in Church
and State, because the giant sin of our' time and nation is
entrenched behind their example and influence. He is hated,
sir, in Boston, as our Lord was in Jerusalem, not because of
his heterodoxy in theology, I believe, so much as because of
his exposure of the vices of the Scribes and Pharisees, the
rulers of the people.
"' I have been shocked at some of Mr. Parker's opinions,
and sometimes offended at his way of stating truths; but
when I see the tremendous blows he strikes at the foundation vices of society, I respect and love him, his opinions on
some points notwithstanding. And his opinions, let me add,
are less shocking, less derogatory to God, less discouraging
to man, than the doctrines which are given us in the Presbyterian Confession of Faith, and the Thirty-Nine Articles and
Creeds of the Episcopal Church; doctrines which, if they
should be intelligently read to the people, and enforced individually upon their reception, as the condition of continued
membership, would empty those churches apace."
At the close of the discussion Mr. May said:"When I first heard of you, Brother Lee, it was as a man
who had generously espoused the cause of the wretched
slaves in our country. I honored you for your fidelity to
the right. Since you came to this city, I have heard of your
kindnesses to the outcasts, the fugitives from our American despotism; how you have sheltered them under your
roof, fed them at your table, and helped them on their way.
My soul has been drawn towards you as a good son of God.
"I cared not much to know what your theological opinions might be, to enable me to form an estimate of your
Christian character. And now that I have found, in the
course of this discussion, what your opinions are; although
they appear to me very unscriptural, very irrational, very
9                     M




194         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
inconsistent with themselves and self-contradictory, still I
will not withdraw my confidence from you as a man and a
Christian so long as I see that you abound in love and good
works. And here, Brother Lee, after all our disputing, is my
right hand of fellowship, if you are willing to receive it."
Mr. Lee said:" I take your hand, and fellowship you as a man and a
philanthropist; but I have no fellowship with your theology."
Mr. May replied:" Nor I with yours! I suppose your theology is just as
unlike to mine as mine is to yours."
Then (turning to the audience) he said:" I thank you, fellow-citizens, for your long-continued and
patient hearing of what we have had to say. I have only to
beg you to read what we have said, and consider it well,
that you may understand; compare our doctrines and arguments with each other as impartially as you may be able,
and both with the teachings of the Bible, and judge for
yourselves which of the two is nearer the right."
For several years free meetings, for the consideration
of religious and philanthropic subjects, known as "The
Market Hall Discussions," were held on Sunday afternoons in Syracuse, and very largely attended by members of all the Protestant denominations as well as the
independents and "unbelievers" of the vicinity. All
questions were open questions; and, sooner or later,
about every thing was debated with the utmost freedom. Mr. May was the only clergyman who attended
regularly, and he bore himself so nobly that the ex



MINISTRY AT SYRACUSE.             195
tremest free-thinkers were ready to admit that there
was one minister who had no priestcraft in him. His
presence secured the order and dignity of these remarkable gatherings. Of course, absurd things were sometimes uttered; but nobody, even in the heat of debate,
became so forgetful of the claims of courtesy as to indulge in wrangling. It was a school of politeness and
of reciprocal regard for honest convictions, as well as
an assembly for free discussion.
Agreeably'to his long cherished purpose, he tendered
his resignation as pastor of the Church of the Messiah
upon the completion of his seventieth year, and delivered "A Brief Account of his Ministry" on the 15th
of September, 1867. His people were hardly reconciled
to their loss, some of them going so far as to say:
" We would rather have Mr. May sit in the pulpit, and
only smile upon us, than to hear the most eloquent sermons from any other preacher."  But they soon found
that they had love enough to satisfy two ministers, and
Mr. Calthrop's coming was an occasion of pleasure to
themselves and to their old pastor.
After he was released from the care of the parish,
Mr. May became a missionary of the American Unitarian Association throughout Central New York, and
many listened with respect to what they considered
serious theological error because of their faith in the
practical Christianity of its well-known representative.




CHAPTER XV.
1859, EUROPE.
THE MISSIONARY TO INDIA. -TREATMENT OF SAILORS. -LONDON DIRT AND FOGS. - THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. -
SCENES AT ROME. - WAYSIDE CHAPELS AND MONASTERIES. - VIENNA. - HEATHENISH SCULPTURES. - ROYAL
STABLES. -JEWS' QUARTER AT PRAGUE. -- UT-DOOR
WORK OF WOMEN ON THE BANKS OF THE ELBE. -BRIDAL
PROCESSION AT DRESDEN.- CIGAR MAKERS.- CROWN
JEWELS.-GRAVE OF GODDARD NEAR ZURICH.-DESENT.
OF RHIGI.-PUBLICATION OF COLERIDGE'S "HYMN BEFORE SUNRISE IN VALE OF CHAMOUNI."-MR. MAY SITTING IN JOHN CALVIN'S CHAIR.-ENGLISH FRIENDS.LETTER TO THEODORE PARKER.-THIRD CLASS CAR IN
SCOTLAND.- FELLOW  TRAVELLERS IN EUROPE.- MISS
HOAR'S LETTER.-HEARS OF JOHN BROWN AT HARPER'S
FERRY.
IN the summer of 1858, Mr. May became so worn
out with his labors and cares that his friends saw
the need of his having a completer rest than could be
obtained in America; and it was soon proposed that
he should go to Europe. He sailed in December, on
the steamer "Arabia," and arrived in London, Jan.
12, 1859.
After a few days he went to Paris, stopping but a
short time; and then directly to Naples, by steamer from
Marseilles by the coast route, touching at Genoa, Leghorn, and Civita Vecchia. He spent a month in and




1859, EUROPE.               197
about Naples, and went to Rome by vettura over the
Pontine Marshes, arriving in Rome on the last day but
one of the Carnival. On the last day he rode in the line
of carriages through the Corso, in domino, throwing confetti, and enjoying the fun highly. After a considerable
stay in Rome, he went to Florence, Venice, Vienna,
Prague, Dresden, Leipsic, Nuremberg, Augsburg, and
Munich. From Munich he went into Switzerland by
the Lake of Constance. He visited all the principal
places of resort in Switzerland in the course of three
weeks, and went to Baden-Baden, stopping at Strasbourg. ~ He enjoyed Heidelberg, and descended the
Rhine to Cologne. From there he went to Amsterdarh, Rotterdam, the Hague, and Antwerp, and afterwarls to Brussels and Paris. From the latter city
he went to England, and remained until the last of
October, when he sailed for Boston in the steamer
" America. "
We have gleaned from his numerous letters such
passages as seem to us most interesting and characteristic.
"OCEAN STEAMER, ARABIA,
January 7, 1859.
"A gentleman now sitting opposite to me, the Rev. Mr.
Baume, of the Methodist Church, late of Chicago, is bound
to Calcutta, with his young wife and beautiful infant boy,
there to devote himself to the work of a missionary of the
gospel in the city and neighborhood of Lucknow. My heart
has been much drawn out towards this soldier of the Cross,
and I have been most happy to give him a letter to a friend
of mine in that country, which will be of service to him."




198          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
" January 8.
"I have had much conversation with four intelligent
American captains, respecting the deterioration of the character and the degraded condition of sailors. The slaves of
our country hardly make louder demands upon our sympathy, or call more earnestly for deliverance, than do the
sailors. I have read to these gentlemen the article in the last' Atlantic Monthly,' entitled' The Men of the Sea.' They
unitedly pronounced it true, wise, excellent."
"PARIS, January 20.
" Of course, I passed though many streets of London, saw
many of the great public edifices, and several lofty columns
and statues of distinguished men; but, at first, I could take
notice of nothing so much as of the dirtiness of every thing:
houses, stores, churches, palaces, statues, all looked begrimed, smutched. Oh! if the dense black smoke of the
coal which everybody burns in London would but deposit
itself in even,'regular layers, one might suppose that the
English people were particularly fond of black marble and
ebony. But, as it is, the buildings, columns, and statues in
London do not look black so much as very, very dirty.
Even the statue of their justly admired Queen, in the Royal
Exchange, looks as badly as the person of a coal-heaver.
I accused several English ladies and gentlemen, whom I
chanced to meet, with a great want of loyalty, that they did
not keep a maid or man there to wash the face of her
Majesty. But, notwithstanding the first impression of London was so disagreeable, I soon found much to admire.
Fortunately for me, the weather during my stay in the great
city was unusually pleasant for the season. I saw the sun
more or less, less rather than more, every day excepting
one. But he always looked more like the Queen of Night
than the King of Day.
" It was so cold and damp in Westminster Abbey, that I
took but a hasty glance at the wonderful structure, and a few




1869, EUROPE.                 199
of the countless monuments that line its walls. The Houses
of Parliament I surveyed more deliberately. My friend, Mr.
George Thompson, formerly a member of the House of Commons, accompanied me, and made my visit much more
interesting than it would otherwise have been. He pointed
out the seats of the distinguished members, and explained to
me the etiquette of the two bodies. But nothing in London
interested me quite so much as the immense Library in the
British Museum."
"ROME, April 26, 1859.
"We have been here at the very time of the year when
most is to be seen of the rites and ceremonies of the Roman
Catholic Church; and we have improved our opportunities.
I have witnessed the most pompous and gorgeous parades.
No description could give you an accurate idea of them.
On Ash Wednesday I succeeded in getting into the Sistine
Chapel; and there, after standing nearly two hours, I saw
eighteen or twenty cardinals, splendidly dressed, come in
through a file of soldiers, each one of them followed by two
attendants bearing his long purple silk train, while he knelt
for a minute in the attitude of prayer, and then accompanied
him to his seat and adjusted his robes for him, and sat down
at his feet. When all the cardinals had thus paraded into
their places, his Holiness, the Pope, came in with a large
escort of military men and ecclesiastics of various orders. He
had six attendants to hold his train, and take off and put on
his mitre, and adjust his robes when he knelt in prayer, and
when he rose up, and when he sat down. So soon as he got
settled on his throne, the officiating priests read some portions, and the choir chanted other portions, of the service for
the day. When that was over, the cardinals arose, each one
in his order; and having been divested by their servants
of one splendid robe, and clothed again with another, they
walked to the feet of the Pope, and, humbly kneeling there,
his Holiness put upon their heads a sprinkling of ashes, made




200          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
upon it the sign of a cross, and gave them his blessing. Then
they arose, kissed reverently his hand, and went back to
their seats. When all the cardinals had gone through this
ceremony, countless bishops, monsignori, and other ecclesiastics, and then the ministers and other diplomatic servants
of foreign courts (who were Roman Catholics), and after
them numerous generals and other military men went up, in
like manner, and kneeled to the Pope and received the ashes
upon their heads, with the sign of the cross, and the benediction of his Holiness, and then bowed themselves still lower
and kissed his foot.  This I' actually saw more than a
hundred men do.
"The following Friday we were summoned, by the
trumpet of common report, to be at St. Peter's by twelve
o'clock, to witness the Pope at his prayers. We were there,
of course. And we found there a large company of soldiers,
keeping an open passage-way from the front door of the
church to one of the chapels on the right side, where it
seemed his Holiness had appointed to pray. At the appointed
hour the huge doors of St. Peter's were thrown open, and in
came a military guard, and after them a retinue of ecclesiastics, and then the Pope, followed by a long train of cardinals and bishops. Arrived at the cushion placed for his
accommodation at the door of the chapel, one of his six
special attendants took off his mitre, another received it in
charge.  Three or four others adjusted his robes, and his
Holiness knelt. At the same moment cardinals, bishops, the
military guard, and all true Catholics in the church, fell upon
their knees, and there was silence for ten minutes. It was an
imposing spectacle. But I could not see in it any thing better
than an imposing spectacle.
"At the expiration of ten minutes the Pope arose from
his knees. The attendant who had taken charge of his mitre
handed it back to the one by whom it was given to him, and
he replaced it upon the head of his Holiness. The other
attendants then took up his train, and the Pope, preceded




1859, EUROPE.                 201
and followed as before, walked reverently to the bronze
statue of St. Peter (once a statue of the heathen god, Jupiter), and impressed a kiss upon the great toe of its right
foot, which, by the bye, had just been most assiduously
wiped by one of the attendants. He then went on to a
cushion in front of the High Altar; and his mitre having
been taken off as before, and his robes adjusted by those
appointed for that pious office, he and all his retinue knelt
again; and again there was a silence for the space of ten or
fifteen minutes. At the conclusion of this ceremony he arose,
his mitre was put upon his head, his train was taken up by
the officials of his person, and lie went back to his palace as
he had come from it. Comment is unnecessary. Let me
only say, the scene reminded me of those in our Saviour's
day who loved to pray at the corner of the street and market-places, to be seen of men.
" The following Friday I witnessed a ceremony of a different sort. It was enacted in one of the churches in the
centre of the city. His Holiness came thither in great pomp,
in a splendid coach drawn by six black horses, with a
postilion, dressed in red satin, on one of the leaders, and the
others driven by a coachman in similar costume, and three
footmen, likewise dressed, riding behind. The Pope's carriage was followed by ten or twelve cardinals, whose equipage
and liveried servants were almost as splendid; and they by
other high officials in Church and State, and generals of the
French and Italian armies; the whole escorted by the Pope's
Guard of Nobles, and a large body of cavalry, elegantly
mounted. Arrived at the church, his Holiness was taken in
a gorgeous chair upon a platform covered with the richest
velvet, upon the shoulders of twelve men, elegantly dressed,
under a silken canopy borne by eight other gentlemen, and
on either side one bearing on a long handle an immense fan
of white feathers. Thus supported, and followed by his cardinals and bishops on foot, the Pope was carried up and
down the aisles of the church, and then placed upon a throne,
9*




202         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
near the High Altar. Here he attended Mass. After that,
fifteen or twenty girls, eighteen or twenty years of age,
dressed alike in virgin white, were conducted to his feet.
There, upon their knees, they received his benediction, and
each a present of money, called a dowry, or marriage portion.
The Pope was then taken upon the shoulders of men, in the
same manner as before, carried up and down the church
again; and so being conducted to his carriage, he returned to
his palace, with the same escort and retinue with which he
had come to the church. Of course, all that I have attempted
to describe was a splendid pageant; but I could not see any
thing Christian in it.
" The parade on Palm Sunday in St. Peter's Church was
much more showy; but I have no time now to describe it.
" On Holy Thursday, the day before Good Friday, were
played what I must be allowed to call the Farce of Humility
and the Farce of Hospitality: the former in the Chapel of St.
Peter's, on the right of the High Altar; and the latter in the
hall over the vestibule of the church. All possible accommodations in the way of seats had been prepared, so as to enable
as many as possible to see what great humility the Pope and
cardinals could practise.
" Arranged upon a high bench, so as to be very conspicuous, were thirteen men, selected for the purpose, on what
principle I know not. They were all dressed alike, in long
white woollen gowns, and whiter capes and whiter kid boots.
They all looked more like women than men. In due time,
the Pope, in a simple dress, accompanied by some of his cardinals and bishops, without parade, came in through the side
aisle. A short service was read; after which a white apron
was tied around his Holiness, and he proceeded to wash the
feet of the men who were there, I suppose, representing the
Apostles. But it was only a shallow ceremony. The feet of
the men were already very clean, so they did not need washing. Nevertheless, I will tell you how it was done. A priest
had gone before, and taken off the shoe, or rather boot, on




1859, EUROPE.                 203
the right foot of each of the quasi Apostles, and slipped it
down to the heel, so that it would be readily shuffled off;
then came a cardinal or bishop, with a pile of small napkins;
next the Pope, dressed more simply than I had ever seen him,
and with his white apron on; just behind and below him,
another bishop or priest holding a golden basin; and next, a
priest with a large golden pitcher. This last poured a little
water upon the foot that was extended to be washed, while the
one with the basin held it to catch the drops. Immediately
the Pope clapped a napkin, received from his attendant, upon
the slightly wet foot, wiped it quickly, impressed a kiss upon
it, gave to its owner a bouquet and a golden medal or coin,
and then passed to the next, and so on until all had received
the ablution, and, I should have added, each kissed the hand
that had wiped the foot.
" This farce I saw with my own eyes, until seven of the
thirteen had been so washed. And then I joined most of
those around me, who hastened from that, to get places where
they might also see the other farce, the feeding of the poor.
But I missed my way, or was less nimble than others, so that
I did not get within sight of the table. It was spread, as I
have stated, in the hall, over the vestibule of St. Peter's. It
was laden with the good things for the palate, both solid and
liquid. And, as I was told by many who saw the farce, the
same men whose feet had been washed were conducted
thither, seated at the table, and served by the Pope and
cardinals. But, as I did not see it, I will not attempt a
description.
"Indeed, after all I have seen at St. Peter's, and of the
condition of Rome, I have come to feel that St. Peter's is
nothing more than a splendid theatre, and the Pope, cardinals, bishops, and priests are only the dramatis personce;
and that religious plays are acted by them for the amusement of many, and, perhaps, the edification of some of the
people."




204          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
"INCISA, May 1, 1869.
"All along these roads one is often reminded that he is in
a Roman Catholic country, by the little chapels, and pictures
and images and crosses, that recur at least once in every
mile. But the frequency of these things lessens the effect
they are intended to produce. The people seemed to pay
them no more respect than they pay the guide-boards or
mile-stones.
"Then, frequently upon the highest hills, steep, barren,
solitary, almost inaccessible, are to be seen the monasteries
in which the several orders of monks have secluded themselves, there to lead lives utterly useless to their fellow-men,
and therefore unacceptable to God, who has commanded us
to evince our love of him, whom we cannot directly benefit,
by doing what we may to promote the happiness and highest
welfare of our bretlhren of the human family. "
"PRAGUE, May 26, 1859.
"When I was a little boy, I used to listen with great
admiration to my sister's playing of " The Battle of Prague,"
then a very famous and favorite piece of music; and here I
am at the place which was the scene of the terrible conflict
described in that music. When I was old enough to study
the eleients of astronomy, I learnt the name of Tycho
Brahe, and committed to memory some account of his contributions to that noble science; and here I am in sight of
the observatory where he studied the heavens.  When I
opened the volumes of ecclesiastical history, I was soon
brought to know something of John Huss, the great Protestant
Reformer; and here I am close by the convent where he first
came to the discovery of other and higher truths than the
Church was pleased to communicate to the people, and which
he converted into a school of freer and better theological
doctrine. I shall soon go out to explore the city, and visit
the spots so sacred. But before I go, let me tell you a little
about Vienna.




1859, EUROPE.                 205
"We went to one of the public gardens of Vienna, in the
centre of which there is a building like the Temple of Theseus
at Athens, erected to hold an immense piece of statuary by
Canova,' Theseus killing a Centaur." I have no doubt it
is an admirable piece of work; but it is a disgusting subject,
as are too many of the sculptures that I saw in the cities of
Italy, representations of deeds of violence or revenge. It
may be well enough to save such sculptures that may be
found among ancient ruins; but for modern Christian artists
to spend their time upon the barbarous fables of heathen
mythology seems to me a sad misuse of their talents.
L' We went to see the Royal stables.  They are three
stories high, built around a rectangular court, four hundred
feet long and one hundred and fifty wide, and look very much
like a palace. The lower story, on three sides, is devoted to
horses; on the fourth side to a riding-school. There were
stalls for six hundred horses. More than five hundred of
these were occupied. The tenants of the others, we were
told, had been taken to the war. Never before had I seen
so many beautiful horses. They were of every choice variety
that is known, and they looked as much cared for as if they
were members of the Emperor's household. Some young
friends of mine, that I could name, would have been especially delighted, and might have been led to wish that they
had been born sons of an emperor.   No such wish was
awakened in my bosom. I came away saying with more
emphasis than ever:' What a pity, what a wrong, that so
much wealth and power should be allowed to accumulate, and
to be retained by inheritance in the hands of one person. No
one man was ever, or will ever be, wise and good enough to
use so much wealth and power judiciously, beneficially to
others or happily for himself.' "
" DRESDEN, May 28, 1859.
"At Prague we crossed the river in a ferry-boat, several
hundred feet below the bridge, and landed in the Jews' quar



206         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
ter of the city. Descendants of Abraham have lived on that
spot, it is said, longer than in any other part of Europe.
"We went first to their old burial-ground. It was literally
full of grave-stones and monuments, many of them several
hundred years old. One is said to date from A.D. 606. We
were conducted through the very narrow, winding path, to
the graves of Rabbi Abignor Karo and Rabbi Lowi, said to
have been very learned and pious men: one, the intimate
friend of Tycho Brahe; the other, the founder of two hospitals. So Miss E. H. and I each put a stone upon their monuments, that being with the Jews an expression of respect
for the dead, and came away.
" Our sail down the Elbe was very agreeable. The country
through which we passed, Saxon Switzerland, was all that
its name led us to expect. Sometimes the mountains overhung the river; at other times they were sufficiently far from
it to give a margin of highly cultivated land. In the fields
there were more women than men at work; and even at the
coal-yards, along the river, we saw them, in great numbers,
doing their share of lifting and shovelling. I cannot be reconciled to this use of women. It is too severe for their physical
constitutions, and must tend, it seems to me, to depress their
spiritual nature, and to deaden their moral and domestic
sensibilities."' DRESDEN, June 2, 1859.
"We found the city given up to preparations for the reception of Prince George, a son of the Elector of Saxony, with
his bride, Maria Anna of Portugal. I perched myself upon
the seventh round of a ladder that was placed against the
front of our hotel, and from my elevated but uncomfortable
seat saw the whole. The procession must have been a mile
in length, and was partly military, partly civic. Companies
of infantry and cavalry preceded and followed the carriages
containing the bridal party. And then came, with bands of




1859, EUROPE.                  207
music at proper intervals, companies of all the different
tradesmen and mechanics, of which the most conspicuous (I
am sorry to say it) were cigar-makers, some of whom were
in a long, covered wagon, busily engaged in making the
noisome, noxious things, much to the amusement of all
beholders, excepting the few who, like myself, utterly disapprove of the use of tobacco. But I shall not be able to stay
long enough in Europe to persuade the people, certainly not
the Germans, to abandon the use of this nasty weed.
" One forenoon we spent two hours in what is called
the Green Vault. It is the depository of the jewels and
precious keepsakes of the Court of Saxony. They occupy
eight rooms, and are said to constitute the most valuable collection of the kind in Europe. I cannot describe them. Every
article, useful and ornamental, to be worn upon the persons
of men or women, to be set upon the tables or the toilettes of
kings and queens, or to gratify their love of the beautiful or
curious, was there displayed, in bronze, in ivory, silver, gold,
crystals, emeralds, jaspers, pearls, onyxes, diamonds, and
every other precious and half precious stone. I came away
without the slightest wish to be myself the possessor of so
much useless treasure, but only wishing that it could be
exhumed from that tomb, and converted to some beneficent
purpose.
"HORGEN, June 15, 1859.
" Ever since the year 1820, the name of Zurich has sent a
thrill through my heart. In that year, a particular friend of
my youth lost his life in this lake. He was a young man
of an excellent spirit, full of hope and high aspiration; but
he was afflicted with an infirmity of sight, that obliged him,
at the age of nineteen, to relinquish his plan of study, and
devote himself to the pursuit of health. He came to Europe,
hoping that he should by travel enrich his mind at the same
time that he was invigorating his body. He came to Zurich,
and was sailing upon this beautiful lake, when a squall sud



208         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
denly struck and overset the boat. He was unable to swim,
and was drowned.
" The first thing I did after my arrival at Zurich, day
before yesterday, was to go to the cemetery, and search for
the grave of my friend; but without success. Yesterday
morning, I found an intelligent valet-de-place. He took me
to the Rath Haus, or City Hall, where, in one of the offices;
we found a gentleman who well remembered the sad event.
From him I learnt that the disaster happened about five miles
above, near the village of Kusnacht, and that my friend's
body was deposited there.
" Yesterday afternoon, we took a carriage and rode out to
the place. There, on the wall of the village church, we found
a black marble monument, upon which was the following
inscription in gilt letters, still bright, though it is thirty-nine
years since they were made: -'' Here rests F. W. GODDARD, from Boston, in America,
a youth of nineteen years, who, far from his home, in a
storm on Lake Zurich, struggling with the waves, found his
death. He died at Goldbach, near Kusnacht, on the 22d of
August, 1820.'
"There was a sad pleasure in standing upon the spot
where the person of my early friend disappeared from this
world, and seeing that the good people of the place had done
all they could do to evince their pity for the young stranger,
and their sympathy for his distant relatives. They buried
him in a conspicuous place, next to the one in which, two
or three years afterwards, they deposited the remains of their
beloved and excellent pastor, if the epitaph upon his monument tells truly the regard in which he was held.
The poet Wordsworth was in Zurich at the time of the
catastrophe. He had learned somewhat of the character of
my young friend, as well as the circumstances of his untimely
death; and you may find, in the collection of Wordsworth's
Poems, some appropriate and touching' Lines upon a young
American, Mr. F. W. Goddard, who was drowned in the
Lake of Zurich.'"




1859, EUROPE.                209
" HOTEL BYRON, LAKE OF GENEVA,
June 24, 1859.
" At nine o'clock we left the Mountain House (Rhigi), and
commenced our descent on the opposite side.* As I had
before determined, I would not venture upon a horse's back
down the many very steep places that I was told were on the
way. I had not strength enough to walk to the bottom so
soon as our party wished to get there. Nothing else could
do, therefore, but take a'chaise l porteur,' —a stout armchair with a foot-board, swung between two long poles, and
carried by two men. It proved to be an easy, and, on the
whole, an agreeable mode of conveyahce over such a road.
One has to reconcile himself to the apparent misuse of his
fellow-men, in thus subjecting them to the work of horses.
But I found men there eager for the job. They could earn
more money in that way, in three hours, than they could in
two days at farming; and, as one of them said to one of my
lady companions, who expressed her unwillingness to impose
on them such hard work,'Oh! God gives us the strength to
do it, and gives you the money to pay for it.' So I made
myself easy, and more easy by occasionally getting out of my
chair and walking a half mile."
" CHAMOUNI, June 28.
"In December,.1820, I went to Springfield, Mass., to visit
my friend, Rev. W. B. O. Peabody, and preach my first sermon from his pulpit. He was a true poet himself, and an
ardent lover of the good poetry of others. During my stay
with him, he repeated to me many choice pieces. One in particular is now brought most effectually to my remembrance.
It was Coleridge's'Hymn to Mont Blanc, written at Chamouni, an hour before sunrise.' I was so much delighted
with it that I copied it, and committed it to memory. It had
not then been published in our country. Mr. Peabody had
recently received it, in manuscript, from a friend in England.
It was too good to be kept for the gratification of the few.
N




210         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
So I sent a copy of it to Rev. H. Ware, Jr., the editor of the'Christian Disciple,' Boston, and it was published in that
excellent periodical in the course of the year 1821."
" GENEVA, June 29, 1859.
"This forenoon I went to the large old cathedral church
where John Calvin preached for more than twenty years. It
was despoiled of every vestige of the Roman Catholic worship,
for which it was built. But it is ill adapted to the Protestant
service, which it is intended the people should hear and
understand. The voice of the preacher reverberated so from
the lofty arches of the Gothic building, nave, aisles, transept,
and apse, that I could not perceive the articulation of half
the words the reverend gentleman uttered.  His manner
was earnest, impressive, eloquent, but his words I could not
hear; and, I am ashamed to say (such is my ignorance of the
French language, in which he spoke) I should not have
understood half if I had heard all.
" At the conclusion of the service, I went to the foot of the
pulpit stairs, and waited until the minister descended. I
found he understood no more of my language than I did of
his. But I communicated to him my wish to know if that
was indeed the church and the pulpit in which John Calvin
used to preach. He assured me they were the same; " and
there," said he, "is the chair in which he sat."  So I
ascended the pulpit stairs, and sat down awhile in the very
chair of the great Reformer.
" As I was coming out of the church, an agreeable-looking
young gentleman accosted me in correct but imperfectly pronounced English. I soon learned that he was a Norwegian,
taking Switzerland on his way to one of the universities in
Germany, whither he is going to study theology. We were
not long in getting acquainted sufficiently to walk together to
the house in which Calvin dwelt nearly all the while that
he lived in Geneva. It is now. occupied by the Sisters of
Charity.




1859, EUROPE.               211
c" On my return to our hotel, I met, upon the bridge that
connects the old part of the city with the new, a blind old
man, with a bundle of papers, which he was loudly crying
for sale. I bought one, and found it, as I expected, an extra
filled with items of news from the seat of the war, and from
other parts of.Italy; items that will reach you, no doubt,
before this letter can. Truly, the last battle has been a
fearful one; almost without a parallel in the history of
modern warfare."
During the three months which he spent in Great
Britain, Mr. May lectured upon slavery, by request; to
large audiences in several of the chief cities of the
kingdom, and had meetings for conversation with the
prominent Abolitionists, especially in London, Glasgow,
and Dublin. He enjoyed meeting Miss Carpenter, Miss
Estlin, Miss Cobbe, Richard D. Webb, Lord Morpeth,
Mr. Martineau, and many other persons in whom he
had long been interested. We have heard that Miss
Cobbe said that if any one could reconvert her to Christianity it would be a person of Mr. May's spirit, and
his attractive way of presenting the claims of Jesus;
and that she acknowledged his success in satisfying
her, for the first time, of the justice and importance of
the movement in behalf of the rights of women. He
must have written many letters from Great Britain, but
only two have come into our possession. The first is
addressed to Theodore Parker.
LONDON, Aug. 5, 1859.
MY DEAR FRIEND, -I reached this city yesterday afternoon, and to-day have learnt your place of residence.
You left Paris a few days before I arrived there, and were




212         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
probably going up the Rhine about the same time that I was
coming down; thus showing that you have brought your
contrary, perverse spirit all across the Atlantic with you.
Oh, my dear friend, when will you learn that you ought to
go just the same way that others do; and that it is much
easier to swim with the current than against it?  Well, well,
if my example has had no effect, it will be useless for me to
spend words upon you.
But I did not "take my pen in hand " to reproach you
for wrongheadedness, but to make an earnest inquiry about
your health. Do tell me exactly how you are, if you feel
a consciousness of returning soundness. I would give much
to set eyes on you, and judge for myself; though your testimony, even then, would be of more value than my own
judgment. I saw Charles Sumner in Rome.'He looked
well, but was much more disconcerted by coming up two or
three flights of stairs than a strong man would have been.
However, I pressed my inquiries about his health, and received very satisfactory replies. He told me of the changes
that had taken place in his physical condition, and assured
me he felt confident that the effects of the injury he received
were well-nigh obliterated. I pray that it may be so.
You have heard, no doubt, that his Alma Mater has at
length put forth her tender hand, and applied her LL.D
lotion to his wounds. This, of course, will complete the
cure, and efface even the scar.
And now, dear Parker, do let me know just how you are;
what remedies you are trying, and with what effect. I hope
you will not allow yourself to attempt much, bodily or
mentally. I hope you are in a quiet place, a sweet retirement. Rapid journeyings and daily sight-seeing I find are
not very beneficial to a jaded, nervous system.  I have
erred somewhat in that direction, and mean to be much
more moderate.
My tour has been most interesting and instructive to me.
Would I had taken one like it thirty years ago! But what I




1869, EUROPE.                 213
have learnt may be of some use to others as well as myself
even now, before I quit the body; and afterwards —surely,
the knowledge we acquire in this life will not be all lost.
Give my best regards to your wife and Miss Stevenson,
and be assured of the love of,
Yours truly,           SAMUEL J. MAY.
August 8.
William and Ellen Crafts speak of you with the warmest
affection, and desire me to send their love to you and Mrs.
Parker. I took tea with them last evening. They are living
(with their three beautiful little boys) very neatly and prettily. I am ashamed to add, they have no wish to go back to
our country.
August 9.
I have just read with delight your beautiful letter of
June 25, in the "Liberator" of July 22, which George
Thompson put into my hand last night. But is it possible
the date given in the " Liberator" is correct, the 25th of
June? I left Hotel Byron on the morning of that day, and
was in the village of Montreux for an hour, the afternoon
before. Mrs. Edward and Miss Elizabeth Hoar (of Concord)
and I went over from Hotel Byron to Montreux to see Mr.
and Mrs. Hawthorne, who, we were told, were there. We
then visited together the Castle and Dungeon of Chillon.
Can it be that I was so near you then, and did not know it?
I will not believe it on the authority of a newspaper.
GLASGOW, Aug. 23.
The train did not come up until fifteen minutes after I
reached the station. So I took out my fac-simile of the
Cotter's Saturday Night; and in full view of the beautiful
hills and valleys of the Ayrshire, upon which the eye of
Burns had so often dwelt with delight, I read this most exquisite poem with a deeper enjoyment of its beauties than
ever before.




214         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
In order that I might see more of the Scotch people, and
at the same time save two dollars, I took a seat in a thirdclass car. It was filled with well-behaved persons of various
social positions. Two young country squires rode with us
fifteen or twenty miles, having their dogs, and their bags,
full of grouse, under their seats. Not far off sat a welldressed, pretty lassie, of seventeen, with a large frame, containing, I suppose, a picture she had just finished at some
boarding-school. But, alas! right before me sat two Highlanders, in full costume, each with a bagpipe, upon which
they played most of the time with stentorian lungs, making
music about as agreeable as that of a large locust in a hot
summer's day, accompanied by a stout boy blowing a
squash-vine trumpet.
I have been exceedingly fortunate in the companions that
I have had. [In his tour through Europe.] They have been
persons of my own'land and other nations, but from every one
I have received kindnesses that have made me their debtor
for ever. I wish particularly to report that I have uniformly
found the English people with whom I have travelled courteous, obliging, and sociable. In several instances they have
made the first advance, have proffered me some favor, and
have taken pains to oblige me.
The impression which Mr. May himself made upon his
fellow-travellers may be learned from a letter written,
in response to our inquiries, by a lady whose society
abroad gave him very great pleasure:CONCORD, MASS., Dec. 17, 1871.
I do not know that I can tell you any thing about him
which will add to your store of illustrations of those beautiful traits which made him so beloved and honored. His
histories of a life so full and so beneficent were endlessly
entertaining to us all, as we passed over long distances




1859, EUROPE.                 215
together in railway or post carriage. They came without
egotism, quite impersonally, as illustrations from experience
of some general remark or opinion of others or his own.
And through all shone the same single-hearted righteousness,
love of God and man, wisdom and courage born of love,
which " goeth and passeth through all things by reason of
her pureness."  He made friends with children and mothers
as we travelled, in Italy, in Germany, and France, where
they had no word of language in common. But they felt
and loved the tenderness and good-will which could not
refrain from blessing the little children.
The variety and extent of his activity and his sympathy
impressed us all very much. His stories of his father and
mother, their adopted children, his father's death-bed, when
he said: "' And now you must let the old man go.' And
I put my arms round his neck, and said,' Father, you
shall 1' "  It was all a part of the same poem, Every thing
seemed touched with the same sweetness; and withal he had
great spirit and vivacity, and sense of humor and fun, when
it was due, and little flashes of dramatic power in relating
exciting or amusing conversations. And in all these four
months,'when we were together almost from morning to
night, in the chances and fatigues of travelling, I never saw
a shadow of selfishness on his face; and we shaped our plans/
of travel with the first consideration that " we should not
lose Mr. May."
And we cannot lose Mr. May. The remembrance of him,
the presence of such a life, is a joy for ever, though great is
the sorrow that we can see his face here no more. "Where'er
he be, God grant us there to meet."  I feel almost as if I
were sending my love to him by you, in writing this very
imperfect acknowledgment of the honor done me in speaking
of me as one of Mr. May's friends.
With much regard, yours truly,
ELIZABETH HOAR.




216        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
On arriving at Halifax, Nov. 3, 1859, Mr. May heard
of Captain John Brown's attack upon Harper's Ferry,
and wrote in his Diary -
" I have read the accounts of the attempt of Captain Brown
to get up an insurrection at Harper's Ferry. This, I apprehend, is but the beginning of sorrows; the pattering of the
rain before a hurricane."
When Mr. May reached Syracuse, a public reception
was given to him. An address of welcome was delivered, and speeches were made by the gratified pastor
and Rev. Joseph Angier, who had taken good care of
his flock during his absence.




CHAPTER XVI.
ANTISLAVERY.
THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD. VISITS CANADA IN BEHALF
OF THE FUGITIVE SLAVES. THE JERRY RESCUE.- TEST
OF HIS NON-RESISTANCE PRINCIPLES. - CORRESPONDENCE
ABOUT HOLDING AN ANTISLAVERY CONVENTION. -THREATENED WITH VIOLENCE. — HIS FIRMNESS.- HE IS MOBBED,
AND BURNED IN EFFIGY.
A   FTER his removal to Syracuse, Mr. May continued to be very active.and prominent in promoting
the antislavery reform. He soon became known far
and wide as a fearless and uncompromising Abolitionist.
He lectured in many places; and antislavery conventions were often held in Syracuse, which, on account of
its central position, is, like Worcester, Mass., sometimes
called "The City of Conventions." Whenever the
friends of freedom assembled in his vicinity, Mr. May's
hospitality was limited only by the size of his houseand the length of his table.
As early as 1834, while living at Brooklyn, Conn.,
he had fugitive slaves consigned to his care, and he
forwarded them to the next station on "The Underground Railroad." At Syracuse, a great deal of human
freight passed through his hands upon the invisible
route. Hundreds of men, women, and children, fleeing
from bondage, and bound for Canada, came to him for
10




218        LIFE OF.SAMUEL J. MAY.
protection and help, and they never came in vain. In
his "Recollections of theAntislavery Conflict" he gives
an account of the appearance and adventures of some of
these victims of American despotism. The mysterious
trains used to arrive at Mr. May's house about eleven
o'clock at night, and he was sometimes kept busy until
two o'clock in the morning conducting the passengers
to places where they could stay in safety until the road
to Canada should be reported free from all obstructions.
Sometimes, in defiance of the Fugitive Slave Law, he
would announce from his pulpit the presence of fugitives in the city, and take a collection in their behalf.
He visited Canada, and made an extended tour among
the colored settlements, to satisfy himself as to their
prospects there.
In October, 1850, many of the best citizens of Syracuse publicly declared that the Fugitive Slave Law
should not be enforced in that place, and a vigilance
committee was appointed. A large number of persons
made an agreement to stand by each other in resisting
the law. A rendezvous was fixed upon; and it was
agreed that any member of the association who might
hear of a person in danger should toll the bell of an
adjoining meeting-house in a particular manner, and
that, on hearing that signal, all the rest should hasten
to the spot.
The determination of many of the best citizens of
Onondaga County was well known throughout the
country; and in June, 1851, Mr. Webster, as a representative of the government, made a speech in Syracuse




ANTISLA VERY.               219
which seemed designed to intimidate the opponents of
the infamous law. He called them traitors, and declared
that the law should be enforced in that place, in the
midst of the next antislavery convention, if there should
then be any occasion to enforce it.
On the first day of October, 1851, just as Mr. May
was about to rise from dinner, he heard the signal bell,
and hurried to the appointed place, a mile from his
house. On the way, he learned that Jerry McHenry
had been arrested as a fugitive slave, and taken to the
office of the commissioner. Proceeding to the courtroom, Mr. May found the prisoner manacled, and not
allowed to state his own case, nor to refute the testimony of his adversary. Not being very closely guarded,
Jerry soon slipped out of the room, and ran for his liberty. He got off nearly half a mile before he was retaken, and then surrendered only after a furious fight
in which he was seriously injured. He was thrown
into a wagon, two policemen sat upon him, and so they
rode, through the central streets of the city, back to the
commissioner's office.
The people were very much excited, and told Mr.
May that, if he would speak the word, they would have
Jerry out. But he advised them to wait until it should
become dark. The chief of police asked Mr. May to
talk with Jerry, who needed to be soothed. In the
course of this interview, Mr. May managed to make
Jerry understand that he had friends who did not mean
that he should be taken back to slavery. Mr. May then
went to the office of the late Dr. Hiram Hoyt, where he




220        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
found twenty or thirty picked men, including Gerrit
Smith, who happened to be in town attending a Liberty
Party Convention. The plan of a rescue was discussed,
and all the arrangements for it were made with skill and
despatch. Strict injunctions were given not to injure
the policemen intentionally, and Mr. May said, " If any
one is to be hurt in this fray, I hope it may be one of
our own party."
About eight o'clock in the evening, the police office
was in the possession of the opponents of the law, and
the officers were overpowered. Jerry was taken to a
place of refuge, where his shackles were cut off, and,
after several days' concealment, he was sent to Canada,
in spite of the utmost vigilance on the part of the administration.
Then began a series of persecutions. Eighteen persons'were indicted, and taken to Auburn. They went
accompanied by nearly a hundred of their fellow-citizens, including ladies. At Auburn, Hon. W. H. Seward
put his name first upon the bond required from their
sureties, and invited " the rescuers of Jerry" and their
friends to accept the hospitality of his house. A mass
convention of citizens of Onondaga County met, and
justified the rescue. Some of the public journals denounced Mr. May as the most responsible person in this
act of "treason." Mr. May, Gerrit Smith, and Charles
A. Wheaton published an acknowledgment that they
had assisted all they could in the rescue of Jerry; that
they were ready for trial; that they would give the
Court no trouble as to the fact, and should rest their




ANTISLAVERY.                    221
defence upon the unconstitutionality and extreme wickedness of the Fugitive Slave Law. As it was not found
expedient to punish the chief persons concerned in the
rescue, and it was not creditable to the government
to continue its prosecutions of obscure offenders while
distinguished ones, who avowed their responsibility,
were unmolested; and it was impossible to empanel a
jury which would not contain persons who had formed
an opinion against the law, the "Jerry Rescue Causes"
were finally abandoned. For several years afterwards,the anniversary of the rescue of Jerry was duly celebrated at Syracuse with great enthusiasm.1
Just after the election of President Lincoln, the fierce
threats of disunion made by the slaveholders caused the
leading politicians of the free States to become very desirous that no imprudent utterances concerning slavery
should be made at the North, at least until the new
1 When Mr. May was accused of inconsistency because, although an avowed friend of peace, he counselled determined opposition to the Fugitive Slave Law, he replied: "I only insisted
that all good men and true ought to withstand the execution of
that infamous law, in the way and by the means that they each
one of them conscientiously believed to be right. I declared I
had no confidence in the use of deadly weapons; that I would not
carry even my cane to the rescue of one who should be seized
under the law. I would hold a man who was attempting to execute it, if I could; overpower him, if I had strength so to do; but
not intentionally harm a hair of his head. Nevertheless, I did
solemnly enjoin it upon those who believed it right, in the sight
of God, for them to fight for their own liberty, or for the liberty of
a white brother; I did enjoin it upon them, if it should seem
necessary, to fight for the rescue of any black man from the horrors of a return into slavery."




222        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
administration should be in full possession of the power
to which it would soon be entitled. The Abolitionists,
however, were equally desirous that the Northern people should not be intimidated by threats, nor misled by
apprehensions of material losses. Therefore they proposed to continue the holding of their conventions, and
to urge the people not to recede an inch on account of
Southern menaces. But their meetings were violently
assailed in Boston and other cities. The Mayor of
Syracuse earnestly requested Mr. May to prevent the
holding of a meeting in that city, lest it should provoke
a riot, although he acknowledged their right to assemble, and promised to protect them. Twenty of the
most influential gentlemen of Syracuse, nearly half of
whom were his parishioners, addressed a letter to Mr.
May, informing him that they were credibly informed
that an organized and forcible effort to prevent the
holding of the Abolition Convention would be made.
These gentlemen declared that it would be their duty,
as good citizens, to protect the Convention; but they
urged Mr. May to exert his influence to prevent its
assembling, because, in the excited condition of the
public mind, it could only be productive of evil.
Probably this was one of the severest tests to which
Mr. May's loyalty to his own convictions was ever subjected. He had the most affectionate regard for some
of these gentlemen, and the greatest confidence in their
wisdom and fidelity in ordinary matters; but he also
felt that liberty of speech was in peril, and he felt bound
to answer them with the same respectful firmness that
he had shown in his reply to the Mayor:



ANTISLA VERY.                  223
SYRACUSE, January 28, 1861.
1.45 P.M.
GENTLEMEN, — Your communication requesting me to
exert my influence to prevent the assembling of the AntiSlavery Convention, called to meet on the 29th and 30th,
came to hand at a quarter to twelve.
The Committee of Arrangements have not yet come to the
city; and I have no authority to postpone the Convention
on their behalf.  They may not arrive until this evening
or to-morrow morning. Meanwhile, there is not time for
me to see enough of the friends of the antislavery cause,
residing in Syracuse, to sustain me in assuming the responsibility of preventing the meeting for the reasons you assign.
In common with my associates, I am very sincere in believing that the principles we inculcate, and the measures we
advise, are the only ones that can extirpate from our country
that evil which now overshadows us, and threatens our ruin
as a nation. We have much to say to the people, much
that we deem it most important that they should hear and
ponder, lest they bow themselves to another compromise
with the slaveholding oligarchy, which for the last twentyfive years has ruled our Republic, and which nothing would
satisfy but the entire subjugation of our liberties to their
"peculiar institution."
We perceive that the "strong" men of the Republican
party are trembling, and concession and compromise are
coming to be their only hope. We deprecate their fears,
their want of confidence in moral principle and God. We do
not consider the reunion of our divided States of so much
consequence as we do a steadfast adherence to the true and
the right. We, therefore, feel deeply urged to cry aloud,
and warn the people of the snare into which politicians and
statesmen would lead them.  We should at least offer to
speak, whether the people will hear or whether they will
forbear.
If, gentlemen, you had assured me that our proposed




224         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
meeting will be violently assaulted; that those who may
assemble peacefully to listen to us will not be allowed to hear
us; that they will be dispersed with insult, if not with personal injury; and that you, gentlemen of influence as you
are, shall stand aloof and let the violent have their way:
then I should have felt it to be incumbent on me to advertise
the friends of liberty and humanity that it would not be
worth their while to convene, as it would be only to be
dispersed.
But, gentlemen, as you generously " affirm" in the letter
before me "that your duties as citizens would require you to
aid in extending protection to our Convention, in case it
shall be convened, in the exercise of all the rights which all
deliberative bodies may claim;" and as the Mayor of our
city has assured me that " he shall fearlessly use every means
at his command to secure order, and to prevent any interference with our proceedings," I feel that I should not be
justified in assuming the responsibility of postponing the
Convention.  For, gentlemen, if you will do what you
acknowledge to be your duty, and if the Mayor will fulfil his
generous promise, I am confident the rioters will be overawed, the liberty of speech will be vindicated, and the city
rescued from a deep disgrace.
Yours, gentlemen, in great haste, but
Very respectfully,
SAMUEL J. MAY.
P. S. POLICE OFFICE, 4J P.M.-Since the above waswritten, the Committee of Arrangements have arrived; and
without knowing what I have written above, they, each of
them, after hearing your communication and the Mayor's
letter, determined that it was our duty to go on with the
Convention; to present ourselves at the time and place
appointed, and offer to the people the advice we have to
give in this emergency of our country.     S. J. M.




ANTISLA VERY.               225
Before the hour appointed for the meeting of the
Convention, rioters took possession of the hall which
Mr. May had hired for the occasion; fists were thrust
into his face, and rough men swore that they would
knock him down and put him out of the hall if he said
another word. As the Convention was not protected
either by the officers of the law or by good citizens,
some of its members retired to a private house, and
adopted a series of resolutions. Soon afterwards the
victorious mob celebrated their triumph by an evening
procession led by a band of music. Their transparent
banners bore these inscriptions: "Freedom of Speech,
but not Treason;" "The Rights of the South must be
protected;" "Abolitionism no longer in Syracuse;"
" The Jerry Rescuers played out." An effigy bearing
Mr. May's name was prominent in the procession. After
it had been carried through some of the principal streets,
it was burned in Hanover Square, the centre of the
business part of the city.
It was not long before the firing upon Fort Sumter
put an end to such shameful proceedings in the free
States.
10*                o




CHAPTER XVII.
SANITARY    COMMISSION, AND      SOLDIERS' AND
FREEDMEN'S RELIEF.
ACTIVE IN SENDING SUPPLIES TO THE ARMY. -VISITS THE
CAMP, AND MINISTERS TO THE WOUNDED AFTER THE BATTLE OF YORKTOWN, VA. —HIS INDIGNATION ON ACCOUNT
OF SWINDLING PENSION AGENTS.- "NOTHING BUT SLAVERY SO BAD AS WAR." —TEACHERS FOR THE FREEDMEN.
T   HE years of the war brought Mr. May deep anxiety and redoubled activities. His soul was deeply
stirred by the awful thought of a nation plunging into
the bloodshed and waste of war, and his heart was
touched with a constant sympathy for the various
classes of sufferers. As a long-time advocate of peace,
he was brought to face a problem difficult to solve,
when the action of the South forced upon the nation
a choice between war and the dismemberment of the
Republic. That he solved it to his own perfect satisfaction we can hardly assert. He confesses at one
time that "the conduct of the rebels and the impending fate of our country has shaken my confidence in the
extreme principles of the non-resistants."  But he never
lost his faith or relinquished his advocacy of peace principles as an ideal, nor ceased to be acutely sensitive to
the wickedness and horror which follow in the train of
warfare. Neither did he gain much confidence that, as




SANITARY COMMISSION.             227
a measure of self-protection, it was really much to be
relied on. The preparations for it filled him with sadness; although he said often, to those who thought war
right, that they were called on not to shrink from upholding their principles in the terrible crisis our country had arrived at. Attending a war-meeting in the
early days of the struggle, he records: " I cannot find
it in my heart to urge men to enlist." His great concern was the spirit and views of those influential in its
direction; and it is true that these often seemed to him
so imperfect, influenced so much by a temporizing disposition, and long so wanting in just apprehension of
the true cause of the war and a just interest in directing it to the issue of universal emancipation and enfranchisement, that he was doubtful of its result, and
depressed with painful anticipations, not only of military defeat, but still more of political infidelity and its
consequences.
But his abhorrence of war, and doubt of the spirit
and aims with which ours seemed for a time to be
conducted, did not impair the readiness with which
he devoted himself to mitigating its evils. We can go
little into details of his philanthropic activity; but it is
perhaps true that he became at once the centre of the
efforts made in his own vicinity on behalf of the soldiers,
and afterwards of the freedmen. Before the formation
of the Sanitary Commission, he aided and superintended the collection of clothing and other necessaries for the soldiers, packing and despatching boxes
with his own hands; and when the Commission was




228        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
established, earnestly promoted its success, co-operating
constantly with its leaders and officers. To ascertain
the condition and wants of the soldiers of Onondaga
County, he made, at the request of the citizens of Syracuse, one or two journeys to the scene of operations
of the Potomac army, carrying supplies and ministering
to the moral and spiritual wants of the well and the
invalid. On one occasion he arrived at White House
when a great number of wounded were coming in from
the recent battle at Yorktown. He stopped at once,
and devoted several days to them, assisting to dress
their wounds, comforting them by cheerful sympathy,
and taking messages to be forwarded to their fiiends.
" The most touching thing," he says, " was the patience
and fortitude I everywhere witnessed. I did not hear
a murmur or complaint all that terrible time." 1 At
home he gave much time to the welfare of the soldiers'
families, obtaining help for them, and securing to
them the pensions which became their due. He cooperated in an attempt to form an association for the
protection of this unfortunate and exposed class; but
this was apparently merged in the Sanitary Commission. For the wretches who availed themselves of
the inexperience of the victims of the war to defraud
them, he kept a constant look-out. A friend, who rode
with him for an afternoon on errands of this sort, describes finding one poor woman who had already made
1 On arriving home, he makes this record in his Diary: " Never
so glad to enter my own door, but I would go off again to-morrow
if I could contribute to the comfort of the poor soldiers."




SANITARY COMMISSION.            229
partial arrangements for obtaining her pension through
a notorious swindler. She had not, however, surrendered her papers; and Mr. May enjoined it on her not
to do so.  "But he will demand them," she replied,
anxiously. "Tell him when he comes that Samuel J.
May told you not to give them to him!" was his
reply.
All the incidents of the war he followed with keen
interest, earnest in his hopes for the success of the
Union cause, while often disappointed and grieved by
the conduct of the administration, which he, nevertheless, deemed it his duty to sustain by his vote. In
July, 1862, he makes this minute in his Diary: "I
have thought and felt so much about our army near
Richmond that my mind and heart are weary." Again,
a little later, visiting a camp near home, to examine
the condition of the soldiers, he says: "Nothing but
slavery seems to me so bad as war." By such conflicting sentiments was his heart oppressed.
During all these years his ordinary activities continued unabated. Ministrations to his parish, and to
hundreds of other persons demanding every kind of aid
or sympathy, filled his days to overflowing.
For the freedmen his anxieties and labors were
peculiar, for he knew well the apathy of Northern
sentiment towards their race; and, in the preoccupied
condition of the public mind, found it hard to secure
to their claims the interest and attention due them. He
occupied himself unceasingly in measures for their relief
and education; forming an auxiliary association, appeal



230        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
ing for aid through the press, delivering lectures and
sermons, securing, advising, and corresponding with their
teachers, and giving unstintedly of his time and money
to their cause. He was often pained by the difficulty
he found in securing interest and assistance for them.
Even the charitably disposed were often weary and
exhausted in means by the demands of the white sufferers. " I find," he writes on one occasion, in his Diary,
"that the burden of this effort is to come upon myself."
For three or four years his Diaries are sown with
minutes of his exertions. Often he despatched boxes
of goods to the soldiers in Virginia, and similar ones to
the fieedmen of South Carolina or on the Mississippi,
on the same day; or, having spent the forenoon with
teachers on their way to fieedmen schools, he occupied the afternoon visiting soldiers' families and the
camp, and in helping the ladies working for soldiers'
relief.
Of all this, however, we can only speak in these general terms. His brief records are the outline, not now
to be filled up, of constant, unwearied, but, it would
appear, most exhausting activity.




CHAPTER XVIII.
CHARACTERISTICS.
"MY MOST MOVING SPEECH."-"THE LORD'S CHORE BOY."
-A HARD MAN TO HATE. CONSIDERATE COURTESY.CONQUERED WITH KINDNESS. - MORAL POWER. - MEMORIES -OF HIS CHILDHOOD.- "THEj PROPHET OF THE
EVERLASTING COVENANT."-A TERROR TO EVIL DOERS.
"I DID MEAN YOU. "-UNEXPECTED GRATITUDE.THE LETTER OF INTRODUCTION. CANDOR AT FUNERALS.
-THE RIGHT AND THE EXPEDIENT. - MAY AND JUNE.Too MANY FRIENDS. - MR. MAY AND DR. LYMAN
BEECHER. - A STRANGE REQUEST. - GIVING AND TAKING
FRANKNESS. - APPLAUDED IN CHURCH. - THE POWER OF
KINDNESS.- POLITICAL  PREACHING. - HOW  TO TURN
AWAY WRATH. THE FAMILY PLEDGE.-LOVE OF CHILDREN. - GENIALITY. - THE IDEAL AND THE ACTUAL. -
ASHAMED TO DIE. -" THE LORD KNOWS I DO."- A
MERITED  REPROOF.-A   DEATH-BED  REPENTANCE.SLEEPING WITH A MADMAN. - KEEPING A PROMISE TO A
LUNATIC. - MR. MAY'S ROMAN CATHOLIC CANE.
WHAT HE CALLED "MY MOST MOVING SPEECH."
M    R. MAY made an address to an assembly of
Onondaga Indians, including several chiefs. In
the plainest terms he told them that, if they expected
or desired to prosper, they must overcome their contempt for hard work, and devote themselves to regular
and constant industry. As soon as he ended and
" paused for a reply," an old chief arose, with an expressive grunt of disgust, and stalked off in silent dignity.




232        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
He was followed by all the other hearers, until the
offending speaker was left entirely alone.
" THE LORD'S CHORE BOY."
Mr. A. B. Alcott was once at Syracuse when Mr.
May was engaged from morning until night in errands
of mercy,' visiting the sick, burying the dead, helping
fugitive slaves and canal boys, and prisoners who wished
to reform. When he reached home at evening, and
was drawing off the boots from his weary feet, Mi'.
Alcott said: I have found a new name for you. You
are the Lord's chore boy. You do the Lord's chores."
A HARD MAN TO HATE.
An active politician, who frequently denounced Mr.
May in the bitterest terms, and expected to be regarded
by him as an enemy, was so overcome by Mr. May's
kindness that he said in his despair of effecting a
quarrel: "I have got to give up trying to hate that
man. You know I have a sick child, but I went to
a meeting to abuse the Abolitionists.  Soon after I
heard Mr. May's voice calling my name in the street.
Turning round, I found his face full of neighborly tenderness; and all he said was,'I do hope your little
boy is better."'
CONSIDERATE COURTESY.
Mr. May once had a parishioner who was so offended
with him on account of his preaching in behalf of
reforms, that he would not listen to his pastor, but
would be sure to attend church if he knew that




CHARACTERISTICS.             233
another minister would officiate. As soon as Mr. May
learned how this man'felt towards him, he never failed
to send word when he was about to exchange, so that
Mr. --    might have as many church privileges as
he would accept.
CONQUERED WITH KINDNESS.
Mr. May once preached very earnestly in his church
upon some doctrinal topic; and, as soon as he pronounced the benediction, an excited man began to lift
up his voice in the most righteous indignation against
the soul-destroying heresies to which he had listened,
and to reflect quite severely upon the preacher. Some
of the people were provoked; but Mr. May begged
them to give their respectful attention, and urged the
protestant to come forward to the pulpit where he
could be seen and heard better, assuring him that he
should have a fair chance. He started full of zeal, but
when he went up the steps, and took the outstretched
hand and looked into the beaming face of his opponent, he was completely disconcerted; and, after a few
tame words, ended by thanking Mr. May for his manifestation of brotherly love.
MORAL POWER.
Once seeing a crowd collected around two men who
were fighting in the middle of the street, he broke the
ring, separated the men, who were overawed by his
presence, told the dispersing' assembly that he was
ashamed of their meanness in encouraging their brothers to make brutes of themselves, and received the con



234         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
gratulations of an Orthodox minister on a curbstone,
who said, " I had been aching to interfere, but did not
know just where to take hold."
MEMORIES OF HIS CHILDHOOD.
"He told me he could remember when a boy being in
his father's office, and Chief Justice Parsons came in, and
asked his father to call in several gentlemen, naming them;
and when they were present, he asked them to sit down and
give him the benefit of their experience and common sense
in making up judgments in cases reserved in court for consideration. Then he took from his green bag papers. A. B.
had come into such and such relations with C. D., and there
had been such and such transactions, and such and such
events in consequence. What was justice between them?
Several cases were thus submitted, without names; and the
great jurist took the thought and conscience of his business
friends, to prepare himself for his great work upon the bench.' Once, he said, when the family assembled for breakfast,
his father came in from his usual morning walk, and said, I
have seen something wonderfully interesting this morning. As
I passed the Old Granary burial-ground, I saw that the tomb
was open, in which I knew were the remains of James Otis;
and, with the help of the sexton, I opened the lid of Otis's
coffin, and behold the coffin was full of the fibrous roots of
the elm, especially thick and matted about the skull; and
going out I looked up at the noble, verdant elm, and there
in transfigured glory was all that was material of James
Otis.'                            G. W. HOSMER."
THE PROPHET OF THE EVERLASTING COVENANT.
"In the winter of 1816-17, Mr. May taught school in Concord, Mass. It was his senior year in college. One cold
Sunday morning we all were assembled in church. The first
hymn had been read and sung, and Dr. Ripley had prayed.
As the prayer closed, the front door was opened, and a large




CHARACTERISTICS.                235
man, with dignified, benignant bearing, entered the church,
and went to the pew in which Mr. May was standing to
receive him. It was Colonel Joseph May, who had come
from Boston to Concord to worship with his son. He might
then have been fifty-five years old; his black hair was silvered
a little, and he wore that morning a drab kersey overcoat,
which gracefully set off his manly figure. That drab overcoat is the subject of my story.
"Twenty years ago, the ministers along the line of the
New York Central Railway knew an eccentric man, who
believed that he was sent of the Lord, and he styled himself
the Prophet of the Everlasting Covenant.' Certainly he took
no purse nor shoes; but he had, alas! he had script, a book
in manuscript, which he wanted the ministers to read and
commend to a publisher.  The Prophet haunted Brother
May at Syracuse, in whose great heart he found room. One
cold day he came, shivering in his scanty attire, and asked
Brother May to lend him an overcoat for the day. There
was no overcoat in the house for him, it was said; but Mr.
May laid his hand upon this dear old relic, the drab coat of
his father. He would not say,' Corban,' it is sacred to a dead
man's memory, when a living man, suffering with cold, stood
before him; and so he lent the coat. The next morning the
Prophet came again. The weather was intensely cold, and
the coat was so comfortable; and the Prophet asked for it
as a gift.'But,' said Mr. May,'it was my father's: how
can I part with it?'' Ah!' said the Prophet,' it is precious
to you; but only think of this coat of your father cherishing
and keeping alive the Prophet of the Everlasting Covenant!'
And the Prophet got the coat.      G. W. HOSMER."
A TERROR TO EVIL-DOERS.
"Belonging to my Society, in Brooklyn, was a very worthy
colored family. They were required to sit in the negro pew,
which was as far back from the rest of the congregation as it
could be placed. Being blessed with a numerous family, as




236         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
the children grew up they were uncomfortably crowded in that
pew. Our church occupied the old meeting-house, which was
somewhat larger than we needed, so that the congregation
were easily accommodated on the lower floor. Only the
choir sat in the gallery, except on extraordinary occasions. I
therefore invited my colored parishioners to occupy one of
the large, front pews in the side gallery. They hesitated
some time, lest their doing so should give offence. But I
insisted that none would have any right to be offended, and
at length persuaded them to do as I requested. One man
was, or pretended to be, much offended. He said, with great
warmth,' How came that nigger family to come into that
front pew?'' Because,' I replied,' it was unoccupied: they
were uncomfortably crowded in the pew assigned them,
and I requested them to remove.''Well,' said he,'there
are many in the Society besides myself who will not consent
to their sitting there.'' Why?' I asked.' They are always
well dressed, well behaved, and good-looking withal.'' But,'
said he,' they are niggers, and niggers should be kept to their
place.' I argued the matter with him till I saw he could not
be moved, and he repeated the declaration that they should
be driven back. I then said, with great earnestness,' Mr.
A. B., if you do any thing or say any thing to hurt the'feelings of that worthy family, and induce them to return to the
pew which you know is not large enough for them, so sure as
your name is A. B. and my name is S. J. M., the first time
you afterwards appear in the congregation I will state the
facts of the case-exactly as they are, and administer to you
as severe a reproof as I may be able to frame in words.' This
had the desired effect. My colored friends retained their new
seat." - Recollections, p. 270.
"I DID MEAN YOU."
On one occasion, Mr. May preached in his searching
and faithful manner upon the subject of selling ruin;




CHARACTERISTICS.             237
and the sermon created a good deal of excitement in
the parish. A few days afterward there met him in the
street the prominent retail dealer of the village, muoh
disturbed in manner, and apparently greatly grieved,
as if innocent, and as if injured by the discourse Mr.
May had given. In his hurried way, he went on to
speak about the sermon, and to tell about the general
or universal interest it had awakened, the talk it was
giving rise to, and the strong terms of censure the people were using about the rum-seller in correspondence
with the language heard from the pulpit. "And," said
the unhappy man, in deprecation of the severity with
which the trade had been handled, " they say you mean
me!" ", Well," said Mr. May, to the great amazement
of his hearer, "I did mean you!"
UNEXPECTED GRATITUDE.
After Mr. May went to Syracuse he was stopped in
the street in New York city one day by an apparent
stranger, who begged him to call at a certain place of
business, and receive his thanks for old kindnesses.
When Mr. May called at this prosperous establishment,
the master of it said: "When I was a boy, and had
nobody to help me, you interested yourself in my behalf, and got me a good place in a store. Thanks to
that start, I have made my own way in the world.'
He took Mr. May to his house, introduced him to his
family, and at their parting pressed a roll of money into
his hand.




238        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
THE LETTER OF INTRODUCTION.
A young man whom Mr. May knew and loved, a
bright, agreeable, capable fellow, but somewhat inclined
to associate with dissipated companions, asked his minister for a letter of introduction to the father of a young
woman in whom he had become deeply interested. Mr.
May immediately granted the request, and prepared a
note in which he spoke in the highest terms of his
young friend, and added that, if he manfully overcame
his temptation to indulge in doubtful associations, he
would be a most desirable companion and friend. He
gave the letter to the young man, unsealed, saying,
"You can read it, if you please." We do not know
that it was ever delivered; but we have heard that the
parties were happily married, and that Mr. May did
not lose the fondest regard of the young man with
whom he had dealt so directly.
CANDOR AT FUNERALS.
Mr. May was sometimes sent for to attend funerals
when persons had died under discreditable circumstances, including cases of delirium tremens. It was
known that he was merciful, and a believer in the
final reformation of all mankind. It was his general
rule, however, to refuse to officiate upon such occasions unless he should be left entirely free to speak
of the awful warning suggested by the sad close of an
evil life. His manner was tender, but indescribably
solemn; and the impressions made by such services
were wide-spread and lasting.




CHARACTERISTICS.             239
THE RIGHT AND THE EXPEDIENT.
Colonel Higginson remembers Mr. May's telling him
about a passage-at-arms with Horace Mann. Mr. Mann
said, "I hate your doctrine that we should think only
of the right, and not at all of the expedient." "And I
hate your doctrine," retorted Mr. May, "that we should
think of the expedient, and not only of the right."
MAY AND JUNE.
While Mr. May was once riding late in the afternoon,
his horse lost a shoe, several miles from a convenient stopping place.- Passing by a blacksmith's shop, he stopped,
and asked the smith whether he would set the shoe.
As he was just shutting up his shop, he declined doing
it. Mr. May urged him, saying, among other things,
"I was in hopes that the consideration of our relationship might induce you to oblige me." "How relationship? How am I related to you?" "Why, I see by
your sign that your name is June. My name is May.
Are not May and June nearly related?" The man
laughed, saying, "Doubtless they are; so I suppose I
ought to do your job for you." Whereupon he put on
his apron, and set himself to the work. While he was
engaged ill it, Mr. May entertained him, in his usual
way, with anecdotes and conversation, and so pleased
him that he not only would receive no pay, but said he
should be glad to shoe the horse "all'round."
TOO MANY FRIENDS.
In 1857, Mr. May wrote to Horace Mann:



240         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
"I am vexed, without any abatement of my vexation,
whenever I think of my failure to see you during my visit to
Massachusetts friends. But when I go to spend a few days
in Boston I am like the boy who got his hand into a narrownecked jar of filberts, and filled his hand so full of nuts that
he could not get it out of the bottle. I undertake to do so
much that I do nothing, or nothing well."
MR. MAY AND DR. LYMAN BEECHER.
We are indebted to James Freeman Clarke for the
following anecdote: -
"Mr. May sent a note to his friend, Rev. Thomas K.
Beecher, of Elmira, N.Y., telling him that he knew that
the Beechers were afraid of nothing, but that he now was
about to give his courage a pretty severe trial.' I invite you
to exchange with me, who am a Non-Resistant, Woman's
Rights, Anti-Capital Punishment, Garrisonian Abolitionist.'
To which Mr. Beecher replied:' Pooh-pooh! that is nothing.
Come and exchange!' Mr. May went and preached. Dr.
Lyman Beecher, whose noble intellect was then giving way
to age and infirmity, was staying with his son, and went to
hear Mr. May preach. When he came home he said:' Mr.
May, if I understood your discourse correctly, and I think I
did, for I paid strict attention, I liked it well. I understood you to'say that you expected to be saved by the merits
of Jesus Christ!'' Oh, no! Dr. Beecher,' said Mr. May,'I
do not believe that any other person's merits will ever help
me to salvation. I must be saved by my own character, if I
am saved at all.' At this Dr. Beecher was displeased, and
answered,' Then I did not like your sermon at all.' After
a while he added,' Do you think it right, or gentlemanly, or
Christian, to go into another man's pulpit, and try to destroy
the work he has been doing?''No, Dr. Beecher,' said Mr.
May,'I do not, and I never do any such thing.'' You did
it this morning,' said the old man, and walked away. But




CHARACTERISTICS.               241
when evening came, Dr. Beecher forgot his anger, and talked
a long time with Mr. May on those subjects wherein they
agreed, as temperance, education, and the like. And at the
close of the conversation, subdued, as all others were, by the
fascination of the honesty, sweetness, truthfulness, and kindness of this remarkable man, Dr. Beecher said, on taking his
bed-light to retire,' Well, Mr. May, I shan't see you to-morrow morning. I'll bid you good-by now. I do like you,
after all.' "
A STRANGE REQUEST.
Mr. May was so brotherly towards all his fellow-men
that the humblest persons felt perfectly sure of his sympathy, and approached him with such faith and freedom
as are seldom inspired.
He befriended a poor woman and her daughter. The
latter was an invalid, and, while her mother was away at
her work, she enjoyed the companionship of a fine cat.
One day Mr. May was told that these persons had called
upon him. He found them in the parlor. The mother
had a basket which contained something that was nicely
covered with a white towel. Mr. May's first thought
was that they had brought him some gift; but he soon
noticed that they were very sad. When he asked what
troubled them, they burst into tears, and told him that
boys in their neighborhood had set dogs on the cat,
and it had been worried to death. Mr. May expressed
his regret. Then the mother said that the cat's body
was in the basket, and they had brought it there to see
if it could be buried in Mr. May's premises. They did
not own their house-lot, and they feared that if the cat
should be buried there it would be dug up by the dogs.
11                 p




242        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
"We should not think of asking such a favor of anybody else; but we thought that, perhaps, you would do
it for us." Amused, and yet touched by their perfect
confidence in his good-will, Mr. May said to the mother,
"It is too damp for your daughter to go into the garden until every thing is ready; but if you will come
with me I will try to oblige you." They selected a spot
between two currant-bushes, and Mr. May took a spade
and made a grave large enough to contain the basket
and its contents. Then he went for the daughter, and
escorted her to the place. After "the funeral," Mr.
May was thanked most profusely, and the women returned home. For some time afterwards the ladies of
his own household kept threatening to put this sign on
the front gate: " S. J. May, Undertaker for Cats."
GIVING AND TAKING FRANKNESS.
Mr. May was often invited to preach in "evangelical" churches; but instead of improving the opportunity
to show that he was almost a Methodist, or almost a
Presbyterian, he was accustomed to say:"The most important truths are those which relate to
religion, and the best kindness we can show to each other is
to impart our highest views of the Divine Character and of
Human Duty. Therefore I shall tell you to-day what I believe to be the chief doctrines of the gospel; and I have also
brought some doctrinal and practical tracts, which I shall be
glad to have you take at the close of the service."
Sometimes he invited Orthodox ministers to occupy
his pulpit, and he encouraged them to declare unto his
people the whole counsel of God, as they understood it.




CHARA CTERIST1 CS.           243
"Preach not what you think Unitarians wish to hear,
but what you think they need to hear."
APPLAUDED IN CHURCH.
A distinguished clergyman was in Syracuse conducting revival meetings. He was announced to preach on
the Justice of God in the Eternal Damnation of the
Wicked. Mr. May wished to hear him, and gave up
his own evening service, urging his people to go and
ascertain what could be said in behalf of such a dreadful doctrine. In the course of his sermon the preacher
gave a frightful picture of terrible suffering. The sufferer after millions of years of anguish kept exclaiming,
"How long, O Lord! how long?"   The answer kept
coming from the throne of an inexorable God, "Eternally, eternally!" After the service, Mr. May met
an acquaintance in the crowded vestibule, who said,
"What do you think of that?" He answered in a very
distinct voice, "I think we ought to ask our God,
whose mercy endureth for ever, to pardon us for
having listened in silence while our deluded brother
blasphemed him." The next Sunday he replied to the
sermon, telling a "packed" audience that he would
rather be the victim of such infernal cruelty than to
inflict it upon an immortal soul; for such a God was
not a father, but a fiend. There was an outburst of
loud and prolonged applause.
THE POWER OF KINDNESS.
At the time when Abby Folsom was so troublesome
at antislavery conventions that sometimes she was car



244        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
ried out of the house on account of her violence, Mr.
May was to preside at a meeting where she was present.
He asked Miss Folsom privately if she thought she
would be moved to speak, and obtained her promise
to say only a few words. When she began there was
great disturbance, and many insisted that she should
not be heard. Mr. May told the assembly that Miss
Folsom had the floor, and he would leave the chair if
she was not sustained in her right to speak; adding, " I
have promised her that she shall be heard, and she has
promised me that she will be very brief." This restored
order; and, after uttering a few sentences, Miss Folsom
resumed her seat, very calm and very happy. In less
time than it would have taken to carry her out, the
business of the hour was resumed.
POLITICAL PREACHING.
During the Mexican War, a Democrat in Mr. May's
congregation met him in the street, and said: "Some
of us do not like what you have said of public affairs.
We are very much displeased with you." Mr. May
answered: "It is not the business of the minister to
please the people, but to tell them what he thinks they
ought to hear, whether it pleases them or not. I must
preach to satisfy my conscience, not to gratify your
tastes." The gentleman said it was an entirely new view
of the subject, and he never complained afterwards.
HOW TO TURN AWAY WRATH.
Mr. May had a parishioner of intemperate habits,
who was such a trial to his poor wife that the good




CHARACTERISTICS.             245
woman went to her pastor and asked him, in her distress, if he thought it would be wrong to put an
emetic in her husband's decanter, so as to give him
a disrelish for spirituous liquors. Mr. May probably
thought that the experiment might be worth trying;
at all events, he did not tell the woman that it would
be very sinful. She tried it; but the man became so ill
that, in her fear, she made a full confession, even implicating Mr. May slightly. This infuriated her husband,
who seldom met "the minister" afterwards without
pouring out his hatred in the strongest terms. He
would not listen to one word of explanation or expostulation on the part of his imagined enemy, who waited
patiently for an opportunity to reassure him of his love.
Once, when Mrs. May had been quite sick, she went
to ride with her husband, and they drove past the
house of the intemperate man, who was working in
his garden, in which he took great pride. Mrs. May
coveted some of the fine melons, but thought she knew
it would be a hopeless request if she should ask for
one; yet Mr. May said," I will see." So he guided the
horse up to the fence; but the man had noticed their
approach, and turned his back, while he bent over his
work more diligently than before. Very soon a voice,
so free from passion that he could hardly believe it
came from the lips of one whom he had so often and
so shamefully abused, said to him, in the kindest tones:
"I have come to ask a great favor at your hands. If
you will give me a melon for my sick wife, I will thank
you. She has a great craving for melons. I know




246        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
you have the best in town. Will you give me one for
her?" The man was silent for some time, evidently
struggling with himself. He had wanted to denounce
Mr. May when he saw him approaching; but he was
large-hearted, after all, and this direct appeal to his
magnanimity thrilled him and subdued him. At last
he said, gently, " I will bring some up to your house."
" Oh, don't put yourself to so much trouble. We can
take them in the carriage." "I prefer to bring them."
He soon appeared at the manse with the best of every
thing that his garden produced, refused all compensation, was at once reconciled to Mr. May, and gratefully accepted his assistance in overcoming his bad
habit; afterwards regaining much of his former good
standing.
THE FAMILY PLEDGE.
In one of his New England parishes, Mr. May offended an intemperate man by the plainness of his
temperance preaching. The kindest treatment on the
part of his minister could not make him yield. But
when Mr. May was about to leave the place, he was
rewarded for all his efforts and forbearance. The man
asked him to come to his house at a certain time.
When Mr. May got there, he found that a neat pledge
had been prepared, with a tasteful frame, and room for
all the family names. The man, explaining his determination, requested Mr. May first to offer prayer, which
he did fervently. Then the father and mother signed
first, of course, and then the children, in the order of




CHARACTERISTICS.              247
their ages. The last was the baby, the father guiding the
infant's fingers until its name was legibly traced. Then
Mr. May most gladly appended his own name, as the
witness of all.
HIS LOVE OF CHILDREN.
He never passed a child without a pleasant word.
There was a magnetism about him which drew them to
him. A friend, who was at the head of a large Reform
School, says that whenever Mr. May visited him, which
he sometimes did for several days, the boys all seemed
to be acquainted with him at once. "They crowded
right round him-when he came into the play-ground,
and were good boys, so long as he was among them at
least.  He did not lecture them, but showed them
something new about their games, and took a little
part in them."
Wishing to do the children of the "May School"
some particular favor, as a mark of his appreciation of
its name, he sent to Boston for a foot-ball; and a visitor
at his house reports his setting off with the ball, and
that, lame as he was, he went into the yard, taught the
boys the rules of the game, and how to kick, entering
into their first essays with the greatest merriment.
HIS GENIALITY.
As he moved through the streets, almost every person
knew him; but, whether acquainted or nott he scarcely
ever passed an individual without some kind of salutation. "I can't bear to go by and look as if I did not




248        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
recognize a man's existence. It seems churlish. I bow
to his humanity," he said. A gentleman who walked
with him in Syracuse said, "Mr. May, I should think
your head would be tired nodding."
THE IDEAL AND THE ACTUAL.
Twelve or fourteen years ago, Mr. May attended a
meeting of the Western Conference at Alton. He met
several Missourians, who saw him for the first time,
and were won by his unmistakable sweetness of temper, even when engaged in the discussion of the slavery
question. A lady who had known and loved Mr. May
from her childhood was much amused when a gentleman from St. Louis said to her: " What a change has
come over Mr. May! His voice has lost its harshness,
and his face has no longer a fierce expression."
ASHAMED TO DIE.
On a certain Sunday, about ten years ago, Mr. May
preached very acceptably in the morning, and a second service was announced for the afternoon. But at
dinner his hostess persuaded him to eat a piece of her
delicious mince pie, and he was soon so ill that it was
impossible for him to preach again. Indeed, he suffered
so much that his friends became alarmed, and sent for
a physician. The doctor came, and found his patient
in great pain. Instead of being utterly doleful, however, Mr. May looked up in his archest manner, and
said, " Doctor,.I am not afraid to die, but I am ashamed
to die."




CHARA CTERISTICS.               249
" THE LORD KNOWS I DO."
One day Mr. May found two stern-looking women at
his front door. He invited them to walk in, with his
usual cordiality; but they said, as if doubting their welcome,'" We have come to you with a message from the
Lord."  "Then you must come in, for there is no one
from whom I should be so glad to hear." After they
were seated there was a long pause; but at last one of
them said, "Mr. May, we have heard that you do not
believe in the divinity of Jesus Christ."  "You did not
hear that from the Lord, for the Lord knows I do."
A MERITED REPROOF.
Mr. May was present at a High School Exhibition,
and being shocked by some of the performances he
addressed the teacher in the columns of a daily paper,
as follows:SYRACUSE, Dec. 24, 1859.
MR.-.
DEAR SIR, —I am very reluctant to censure any thing
that you have advised or permitted. But the offence committed last evening, at the Exhibition of your High School,
was too grave to be passed over in silence, and too public>
to be reproved only privately. For half an hour or more,
your audience of two thousand persons, many of them
young, were kept laughing at a very gross and immoral
farce, all the more mischievous because so well performed.
A lying knave, pretending to be a mesmeric doctor, in agreement with a foolish, naughty boy, practises upon the fears
and the credulity of an old, doting father, in order to defeat
his plan of sending the graceless youngster to a boardingschool.
11*




250         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
I cannot imagine a worse lesson that you could have given
the rising generation; a lesson in trickery, lying, and filial
impiety. There is already in our country so little reverence
for age, and respect for parental authority, that an audience
of our people is the last in the world before which such a farce
should be introduced for the sake of fun.
A word to the wise is sufficient. I know you will see and
acknowledge the worse than impropriety of which you have
allowed your pupils to be guilty, and am sure nothing of
the kind will again occur at the exhibition of our High
School. Every true parent and good citizen must disapprove
of it as much as I do.
Sincerely your friend,           S. J. MAY.
A DEATH-BED REPENTANCE.
To be at Peace with- God we must be at Peace with our Fellow-men.
" A few years after I had entered the ministry, I was
summoned to the house of old Mr. B., a dying man, who
was said to be in great distress of mind. I had no experience
in such cases, and was therefore not a little distressed in my
own mind to know how I ought to deal with him. I was
but little acquainted with Mr. B. He was reported to be
a strictly honest man, but ill-tempered, irascible, and very
jealous of his rights, and therefore always in a quarrel with
some of his neighbors, or with those for whom he worked.
As I.walked to his house, I earnestly bethought me what I
should say to him. I inwardly -prayed for help; and the
Comforter, the spirit of truth, came to my assistance.  I
resolved to deal frankly with him and tell him that his faults
of temper were undoubtedly the source of his misery.
"On approaching his humble dwelling, I heard his groans
and outcries for mercy. His daughter met me in the yard,
and told me that he had lain all night thus bemoaning aloud
his lost condition, and imploring forgiveness.
"As I took my seat by his bedside, the wretched man
gave way to a paroxysm of despair, and seized my hand as a




CHARACTERISTICS.                 251
drowning man grasps any thing within his reach. So soon
as he was calm enough to listen I said:'Mr. B., this
is all wrong, foolish, a waste of the little time that is
probably left you. God is not well pleased with groans
and shrieks of misery. Your unhappiness is owing to your
faults of character, and the sins they have led you to commit.
I am told that, although an honest man, you have been cross,
quarrelsome, and at times very abusive in your language to
those who had, or who you thought had, injured you. Now
you cannot be at peace with God, until you are at peace with
men; and how can you expect or with any propriety ask
him to forgive you if you are cherishing in your heart resentment and ill-will towards those whom you consider your
enemies. I do not think, Mr. B., you will die to-day or
to-morrow: the doctor says you may live a week or more.
Instead, therefore, of wasting your time, and disturbing
your family by your groans and outcries, let me advise you
to set about forgiving those who have injured you, and asking the pardon of such as you have injured.'
"The old man recovered himself, and went on awhile
recounting the wrongs that had been done him by one,
another, and another.'Well,' said I,' Mr. B., for all these
things they are accountable, and of them they must repent,
or suffer the consequences. If they are really as bad as you
have described them, I should think you would pity them,
and pray for their repentance and forgiveness. But it is
your especial duty to think rather of the wrong you may
have done to them in your anger; be sorry for that, and
sincerely ask their pardon. Unburden your conscience, as
far as you may, of the load that is upon it; make all the
amends you can for the injury you have done to others in
deed, word, or thought, and leave them, as you must, to
take care of their own accounts with the Impartial Judge.'
Mr. B. was much affected by my plain dealing, and soon
made confession of many things that he knew had not been
right in his treatment of those who had offended him; and




252         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
at last said:' Yes, I ought to. I will forgive all my enemies,
and ask them to forgive me, all excepting Captain W. It
seems as if I could not forgive him, he has so often wronged
and abused me. I am afraid I should not forgive him if I
said I did. And I know not how I can ask his pardon, while
I feel he has treated me so much worse than I ever treated
him.''Ah! Mr. B.,' I replied,'Captain W. is the very
one of all others with whom you must seek to be reconciled, for he is the one with whom it seems that you are most
at enmity. Don't die, I pray, until you have forgiven him,
and have been forgiven by him. I suppose the Captain is a
hard, overbearing man. It is very probable that he has been
unkind, ungenerous, unjust towards you. But that is his
concern. He must answer for that. You have only'to make
amends for the wrongs you have done him. And if he sees
that you are truly penitent, very probably his heart may be
touched. He may be made conscious of his trespasses against
you, and not only forgive, but ask to be forgiven. But
whether the Captain shall be brought to a right state of
heart or not, see to it that you do the work that is meet for
the repentance required of you. Recall to your remembrance the harsh language you have used, the abusive, profanely abusive, epithets you have sometimes heaped upon
him; and confess to him that nothing should have provoked
you so to injure him and offend God.'
"Mr. B. was still more affected by my earnest appeal.
Tears flowed freely down his rough cheeks. His bosom
heaved with emotion. He covered his face. Presently he
cried,'Oh! pray with me, pray that I may have help!'
I did pray fervently, for I felt deeply. I prayed that if the
course I had marked out for the poor, unhappy, dying man
was indeed the right one, he might be spared, guided, and
strengthened by the Holy Spirit to pursue it.
" A day or two after the above interview, I was told that
a marked change had come over Mr. B. He had ceased
from his groanings,. had become more considerate of his




CHARA CTERISTlCS.                253
family, and of all who came to assist in nursing him. He
was tender and affectionate, and often rapt in silent prayer.
I was told he had sent for one and another of his neighbors
and others with whom he had quarrelled, and made very
humble confessions, and asked their forgiveness. Moreover
it was said his penitence had melted the hearts of several
who had done him wrong; and that his sick-room had been
the scene of mutual acknowledgments and touching expressions of mutual forgiveness.
"Before a week had quite passed, I went again to see him.
No outcries or groans saluted me as before on drawing near
to his house. Quietness reigned around it. As I entered
his room, the sweetest smile I had ever seen upon his face
greeted me. He eagerly stretched out to me his trembling
hand, and with tears of joy, which words could not express,
he said:' 0 Mr. May! I have done as you advised me, and I
have found peace, sweet peace of mind. I sent for Mr. A.
and Mr. D. and Mr. G. Others came, on hearing that I
wished to see all with whom I had quarrelled. Each one
has spoken kindly to me. Each one has assured me of his
forgiveness. Some have made apologies for my violence,
more than I could have made myself; and most of them have
confessed that they too had done me wrong, and begged
my pardon. I have had a happy week! I found it so good
to forgive and be forgiven, that I felt last Tuesday as if I
miiust see Captain W.  He came, and it was the best of
all. I told him I was unwilling to die without having confessed to him how sorry I was that we had quarrelled so
much; how ashamed that I had so often abused him; and
that I hoped he would forgive me. And, what do you
think, Mr. May, the Captain would hardly wait for me to
finish what I was saying before he took my hand and replied:
" Mr. B., you have as much to forgive as I have. We have
treated each other badly. I have been in some respects much
more to blame than you have. I am glad you sent for me.
I beg you to forgive me, as I do you heartily. And I pray




254        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
God to forgive both of us." His manner was very tender.
He wept while he was speaking. I never knew the Captain
had so much kindness.'
"After resting a little while, the dying man resumed:' Mr. May! I cannot tell you how much better I feel; such
a load removed from my heart. I have forgiven my enemies,
and they have forgiven me. I have more hope now that God
will be merciful to me. I am not so afraid to die.'"
SLEEPING WITH A MADMAN.
Mr. May's temperament, into which entered so largely
firmness and gentleness and sympathy, and his great
personal courage, adapted him peculiarly to deal with
the insane, over whom he always exercised a singular
influence.
When quite a young man his character was put
to a severe test, as the following anecdote shows.
Near his father's house lived a highly respectable
family, of whom the husband and father was subject
to periodical insanity, which at times amounted to
maniacal fury. At such times his wife and children
lost all control of him, and were often obliged to retreat to remote parts of the house, andl ock themselves
in. Mr. May, of whom the gentleman was very fond
when in his right mind, was one evening informed by
a messenger that he was in one of his fits of insanity,
and that the family were helpless, and locked into the
attic. He hastened over to their home, and found the
maniac in full possession, roaming furiously through
the rooms, mixing complaints of his family for deserting him with threats of violence against them. Mr.




CHARACTERISTICS.             255
May succeeded in calming him, and urged him to go
to bed and try to sleep.
"I ow can I sleep, Sam?" said the poor man, pathetically. " My wife and children have hidden away;
and I am so lonesome, I couldn't sleep if I went to
bed." "Do try," urged Mr. May. " Will you go and
sleep with nhe, Sam?" "Of course I will," was the
prompt response: "only you must promise me you
will keep quiet, and not get up till morning." "I will
promise." "Give me your word of honor, Mr.."
"I give you my word of honor, Sam, I won't get up
till morning."
Mr. May kept his part of this strange compact, and
actually went to rest in the same bed with the lunatic,
and fell asleep. During the night, however, he awoke,
and found his companion gone. He arose instantly, and
in his night-clothes set out to find him.  Groping
his way downstairs, he discovered him in the diningroom, evidently excited again, and engaged in whetting
the carving-knife upon its steel. Mr. May, who knew
that his characteristic trait was truthfulness and pride
in his honor as a gentleman, advanced immediately to
him, and sternly said: -
" Mr. --- I thought you were a man of your word!"
"And who says I am not-a man of my word?" roared
out the madman, starting up to confront him. "I say
so!" said Mr. May, boldly. "You have just broken
your word to me. You promised on your honor that
you would stay abed till morning; and here you are
downstairs in the middle of the night."




256        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
The right chord was touched. The poor lunatic
melted at once. "Did I, Sam? " he quietly answered;
" then I forgot it. Oh, forgive me! my head is in such
a whirl! " He consented to return, and they actually
resumed their partnership of the bed. In the morning
reason had in some measure returned; and Mr. May, on
awaking, found his companion dressed, and somewhat
sadly waiting for him to arouse.
KEEPING HIS PROMISE TO A LUNATIC.
Another instance of his resolution was his treatment
of a gentleman of Syracuse, who, though not of his
parish, had such implicit confidence in his fidelity and
courage that he intrusted to him the secret of a conscious tendency to insanity, which he feared he could
not permanently control. "I want you to promise me
solemnly, Mr. May, that if it comes to that, and you
hear that I have lost my reason, you will come here
and take me, whether I consent or not, and carry me
to the Utica asylum." Finding him in earnest, Mr.
May gave his pledge as requested. Some years elapsed.
At length a severe affliction developed the dreaded
tendency. Mr. May, hearing that the gentleman had
lost his reason, took a carriage and drove to his door,
and going in told him he had come, as agreed, to carry
him to the asylum. The lunatic refused, and became
somewhat furious. Mr. May pleaded with him to consent, urging the superior treatment he would receive,
and the danger to his family, should he be allowed to
stay at home. At length, finding he would not yield,




CHARACTERISTI CS.             257
he said: " Mr. --, I am here by agreement with yourself. You asked me to come, and, whether you consented or not, take you to the asylum, if ever you
became insane. I promised to do so, and I shall certainly keep my promise. I shall have to do it by force
if you will not go voluntarily. Now do not distress us
all by resisting; but come, as I ask you to." Such persuasions induced him at length to get into the carriage.
But, arriving at the depot, the old spirit of insanity
revived, and he began to protest against going into the
cars. Again Mr. May said: " My friend, you must. It
was our agreement. I should have to have you carried
in if you refused to walk. Now come, don't make a
scene, but take my arm, and let us walk in together,
and let no one see there is any thing the matter." The
lunatic once more yielded, and they arrived at the asylum after a quiet ride of two or three hours.
MR. MAY'S ROMAN CATHOLIC CANE.
Some years ago an effort having been made by citizens of Syracuse to found a City Hospital, which project
failed through the impracticability of obtaining proper
nurses for such an establishment, Mr. May proposed
at the meeting in which this conclusion was reached
that they should call upon the Sisters of Charity to
undertake the work. He urged their well-known skill
and devotion, and had ascertained that they would take
charge of a hospital and conduct it on strictly nonsectarian principles so far as the admission of patients
was concerned. The anti-Catholic sentiment, however,
Q




258        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
proved too strong; and his suggestion was finally voted
down, to his great disappointment, by a decided majority.
Some time after this scheme had been thus abandoned
in despair, there arrived in the city two or three Sisters
of Charity, charged with the duty of doing what the
citizens had given up. They began practically, hiring a
small house, and putting in one or two beds, for which
occupants were readily found. At the same time they
exerted themselves to increase the extent of their
accommodations. Hearing of Mr. May's action in the
former case, they called on him, and were assured of
his readiness to co-operate with them, provided they
would conduct their hospital on non-sectarian principles. They agreed to this, and received the active
assistance of Mr. May and other public-spirited Protestants; the effort resulting in the establishment of St.
Mary's Hospital. It now contains some fifty beds, has
an efficient corps of the well-trained and devoted Sisters
as nurses, and. is well provided with all needed appurtenances. It is partly supported by the city, is wholly
free to all patients without regard to religion, and is
admirably conducted. Mr. May was deeply interested
in its success. He became well acquainted with the
Mother Superior, for whose ability and devotion he
entertained the highest respect, and advised cordially
with her and others interested. In how gratifying a
manner his sentiments and efforts were appreciated,
we take great pleasure in exhibiting in the incident we
now record.




CHARA CTERISTICS.             259
The hospital being well under way, a Fair was held
for its benefit, and was very successful. Many Protestants attended, but fby far the largest portion of its
patrons were Roman Catholics. A gold-headed cane
having been offered to be given by vote to a clergyman
of the city, it was actually assigned to Mr. May by a
large majority, although his principal rival was a muchrespected Catholic priest. As this result was really
determined by the votes of the Catholics, the event
became a pleasing instance of that good-will among
Christians which Mr. May so much loved. But more
was to follow. It was arranged to present the cane to
him publicly, at a Festival to be held at the hospital,
in celebration of its assured establishment. When the
evening came a large concourse of Catholics and Piotestants filled all available parts of the building. A
prominent Catholic gentleman, presenting the cane,
addressed Mr. May in terms which it would be gratifying to reproduce here, warmly acknowledging his interest in the undertaking from the beginning, and offering
him grateful assurances of the respect which his Catholic
fellow-citizens felt for him. Mr. May, much affected,
accepted the gift, responding in cordial terms to the
address which had been made; and in friendly festivity terminated an occasion which was, perhaps, unique
in the relations of the two great portions of the Christian Church.




CHAPTER XIX.
PERSONAL TRAITS AND HOME LIFE.
PERSONAL APPEARANCE. - MANNERS. -- HIS MIRTHFULNESS. -
ENERGY.- FOOD. — TEMPERANCE. - PHYSICAL AND MORAL
COURAGE.-HIS AVERSION TO RICHES AND LUXURY -
UTILITARIAN. - NEATNESS. - INVITED  CRITICISM. - HIS
LITERARY HABITS. - HUMOR. - DOCTRINAL DUEL. - HOW
HE USUALLY SPENT THE DAY.-HIS DOMESTIC VIRTUES.
-NEVER IRRITABLE OR IMPATIENT.-CRAVED MANIFESTATIONS OF AFFECTION. -A WISE AND FOND FATHER.MRS. MAY.
IN person Mr. May was of middle stature, straight
and well-proportioned, rather slender when a young
man, but becoming stout, although not corpulent, in
later years. His complexion was fair, with a fresh
color; his hair, which was very fine and silky, was
black, never more than slightly sprinkled with gray, to
which his beard turned at sixty; his eyes brown, the
pupils small, the lids a little drooping, and with an
indescribable twinkle of genial good-nature about them;
the nose and mouth were large, but shapely, the expression of the latter decided and firm. His countenance
was singularly expressive from its great mobility, reflecting changes of feeling readily. " When I first met him,
at twenty-seven years of age," says an old friend, "I
thought him the handsomest man I had ever seen."
The likeness which accompanies this volume, regarded as fair, but not excellent, by his friends, is from




PERSONAL TRAITS.AND HOME LIFE.. 261
a photograph taken but three months before his death.
It gives, perhaps, something of the sweetness of his
countenance, but partially lacks the masculine strength
which underlay its expression. Nothing could exceed
the sweetness of his smile or the contagious heartiness of his laugh. His voice was remarkably powerful
and searching, but perfectly smooth, very musical, and
well modulated.  Theodore Parker said of it, "God
made that voice on purpose to pronounce the Beatitudes." He sang delightfully, with great expression
and the highest enjoyment, both sacred and secular
music; being very fond especially of English ballads,
of which he knew a great many. One of his classmates
tells us that a college party " was never thought complete if they could not get May in to sing." His manners were of exceeding grace and dignity. He retained
a good deal of the style of the old school, and in formal
intercourse was courtly and almost precise. But his
unbounded geniality relieved his bearing of all stiffness,
and in familiar society made him easy and informal.
Yet even in the most intimate relations there was a
considerate politeness in his behavior, which he never
relaxed or forgot. He greatly.disliked the neglect of
courtesy which he thought characterized, to some extent,
our recent times.  He was emphatically well-bred.
Manners were morals with him, and the disregard of
the little amenities of behavior in domestic and private
life always tried his feelings and offended his taste.
"It is so easy to say a pleasant word," he used to urge.
"A little act of attention is worth more than a real




262        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
service." He carried these principles into his treatment
of the poor and humble, and it was one secret of his
influence with them and their delight in him. A man,
he held, is, as a man, entitled to courtesy as much as
to justice; and he was scrupulously attentive to all
the dictates of politeness among the humblest of the
objects of his charity. "It does them more good to
be treated with respect than to have food or clothing
given to them," he used to say.
He showed towards servants and laboring people
a sympathetic friendliness which hardly seemed condescension, and which made them devoted to him. In
his own family they always attended to his wants with
an enthusiasm of loyalty; and a lady tells us that, when
he called at her house, her servant was always greatly
disappointed if any one else went to the door to let him
in. He taught his family to encourage the self-respect
of such persons by their mode of speaking to them; and,
except domestics, they were always addressed as "Mr."
or "Mrs.," and not by nicknames.
His entrance into a room was delightfully gracious,
and his presence among a circle of friends was a guarantee of sociability and merriment. "He was one of
the most mirthful men I ever knew," says one who was
long familiar with him. His fund of stories and personal anecdotes was almost inexhaustible, and he told
them with the greatest glee and With a large share of
dramatic effect. His habit of thought was, however,
essentially sober, although cheerful. Mirth and humor
he loved, but he was highly sensitive to levity or irrev



PERSONAL TRAITS AND HOME LIFE.        263
erence. Even wit he rather feared, often saying he
was glad he was not a witty man, it was so hard to use
wit without abusing it. Thle scathing satire of his
friends, Horace Mann and Theodore Parker, he always
spoke of with almost a shudder.
Although delicate in youth, Mr. May inherited from
his parents a robust constitution, and enjoyed superior
health throughout his life. His capacity of endurance
was very great, as the variety of his activities implies;
but this depended largely also on his equability of temperament, and the unqualified heartiness with which
he took up every thing he had to do. No energy was
wanted in overcoming the friction of disinclination to
duty. He was in every thing hearty. He enjoyed
life, meeting it cheerily, and taking it up earnestly and
joyously. "There is one life, of little importance fo
other people, perhaps, but which I take a supreme
interest in: I mean my own," he was fond of saying.
He was no ascetic. He was a generous eater, fond
of good cheer, and liking to see a bounteous table;
although in his personal habits he was extremely simple, always contented with what was set before him,
and never making any suggestion for the gratification
of his own appetite or taste at his own table. His wife
used to say it was of no use to cook for him, he could
not tell what he had'eaten. The one thing he loved
better than all others was boiled rice, on which, when
interrupted in. the midst of composing a sermon, he
would often dine exclusively. He was very fond of




264          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
tea, and used to jest at this taste and his temperance
principles at once, by calling himself a " tea-totaller."
He liked also the taste of wine, and always said he
should enjoy wine and the sociability to which it contributes, if he could use it conscientiously. But having
in early manhood adopted the principle of total abstinence, it became so deeply rooted in his conscience that
it always pained him to see intoxicating beverages convivially or freely used. He could hardly excuse it, that
men, to gratify themselves, should risk making weaker
brothers offend.1 It was difficult to persuade him in
1 This sentiment, and the frankness with which Mr. May was
able to utter his convictions, are both illustrated in the following
letter. He had been invited, by the committee of gentlemen charged
with arranging the festivities of St. Patrick's Day, to attend the
dinner. The compliment to him as a Protestant clergyman was
highly acceptable; but he felt unable to attend, and declined, for
the reasons expressed in the letter: -
SYRACUSE, March 17, 1853.
MESSRS. D. MCCARTHY AND OTHERS.
GENTLEMEN, -I am much obliged to you for your invitation to
the proposed celebration of St. Patrick's Day. I should be very
happy to express, by accepting your invitation, my kind regards
for that portion of my fellow-citizens who have come directly, or
by descent, from Ireland.
But I see so much poverty, wretchedness, and crime following
fromn the use of intoxicating drinks, that I abhor the sight and
smell of them; and cannot consent to give my countenance to
them, no, not for an hour, except it may be in the chamber of
sickness, under the direction of a discreet physician.
If any people on earth need these artificial stimulants less than
others, it seems to me they are the Irish. Our Creator seems to
have bestowed upon that branch of his human family a large share
of animal spirits, -of buoyancy and light-heartedness. I know




PERSONAL TRAITS AND HOME LIFE. 265
age to take wine as a means of strength, although he
always conceded its utility to the old or infirm. But,
when he took it, he fell into the old decorums so naturally, that his family were accustomed to tell him that
he " should not drink healths in a medicine."
He united to his generous and well-knit physique a
high degree of physical and moral courage. He used
to tell a story of his grandmother, a lady of Revolutionary times, who, when a robber was getting into her
window at night, sprang from bed, seized him by the
shoulders, and pushed him out upon the ground, saying,
as she did so, "You rascal, you'll wake my husband!"
The same heroine, hearing one speak of fear, exclaimed,
"Fear! What is fear?       I don't know what the word
means." Her grandson was endowed with a portion
not what else has sustained them under the load of accumulated
wrongs which they have been compelled to suffer.
In a country like ours, with such spirits as they have, nothing
can prevent them from obtaining at once the comforts of life, and
rising in due time to affluence and honor, if they will let ardent spirits
alone. But the use of intoxicating drinks perpetuates their shiftlessness, excites.them to quarrelling, to disturbances of the peace,
and violations of right, wholly foreign to their natural kindness
and good humor.
If the celebration this evening was to be without wine, or any
kind of ardent spirits, it would give me pleasure to attend it; but
I cannot willingly subject myself to the pain and the shame of
seeing men (for a momentary gratification) swallowing that which
I know may commence in them, or perpetuate, an indulgence that
leads to poverty, woe, and crime.
Would to God that the Irishmen of Syracuse would to-night
instal father Mathew as their Patron Saint, and for ever after live
in accordance with his principles.
Respectfully.         SAMUEL J. MAY.
12




266         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
of her character, as some of the anecdotes we elsewhere
narrate exhibit. The phrenologist Fowler, not knowing who he was, examined Mr. May's head, and declared it was the head of a military man; and, when
informed of the principles and character of his subject,
maintained that he was nevertheless correct, as, according to his system, Mr. May had courage, firmness, decision, order, and other military qualities, largely developed. An'active Abolitionist in 1835 certainly needed all
these. In college he was, in fact, drill-sergeant of the
college battalion, at that time celebrated for the elegance of their evolutions. He was, however, never
prone, we believe, to athletic achievements or exposures, was timid and awkward with horses, and dizzy
upon great elevations.
He never shrank from  any call of duty, but was
disinclined to taking any needless risks.  Similarly,
although generous and charitable almost to prodigality,
he had a great aversion to waste. This sentiment made
him possibly a little unjust in his aversion to riches
and the luxury attendant on them. He could not look
upon the palaces of the wealthy without remembering
the squalor of the poor. Ostentation in dress, architecture, or equipage, always offended him; partly from the
reason we have just mentioned, partly from a natural
simplicity and practicality of mind which were very
characteristic of him. These latter qualities made him,
though extremely fond of music, thoroughly dislike such
as was of a florid or operatic character. He disliked and
disapproved much of the modern church music, and sel



PERSONAL TRAITS AND HOME LIFE.         267
dom enjoyed the " Vesper Services " of late years used in
many churches. The same traits of character seem to
reappear in the emphases of his theology and the tenor
of his preaching, which were always and characteristically practical. He valued things for the use they subserved. Mere beauty he probably did not adequately
appreciate.  His taste in poetry was guided almost
wholly by his moral sentiments rather than by aesthetic
sensibility.  He could scarcely endure Browning or
Tennyson, but delighted in a ballad or sonnet of
Wordsworth, and was profoundly stirred by a moral
lyric of Whittier. Fiction he enjoyed almost not at
all. His wife told him he read a novel as if it were a
treatise of theology. He admired the grand in nature
or art, from the reverential tendency of his mind, and
an object like Mont Blanc or St. Peter's profoundly
affected him; but he was not in general acutely sensitive to the quieter and subtler forms of natural or
artistic beauty.  He would value the portrait of a
friend, or some champion of the right, or a picture like
pne of Mrs..Fry reading to prisoners, which always
hung in his study, the gift of his friend, President
White, more than any mere work of art.   He was,
however, sensitive to personal beauty, although incapable of comparing it to high moral qualities.
Neatness and order he valued highly, and practised
habitually. His longest manuscript was, although he
wrote with great rapidity, legible and elegant to the
end.  He abhorred bad handwriting, and thought it
almost wrong, and certainly of questionable civility,




268        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
to impose it on a correspondent. He was not, however,
very systematic, although his sense of duty made him
thorough in the discharge of every task. Any thing ill
done offended him.
He liked to feel that his own public efforts were
creditably performed, and always asked his wife and
children on return from church how they had liked his
sermon. But he never betrayed any thing of personal
ambition, and was extremely modest in his estimate of
his gifts and actual services. He accepted criticism
of his conduct, views, or style, with perfect candor and
good will, and was genuinely satisfied to be shown
where either might be improved. During the earlier
portion of his Syracuse ministry, he lived near-the
church; and the sociable manners of his people led to
the habit. of a large number following him home after
service on Sunday evening, to talk over the suggestions
of the day. Very earnest debate often sprang up, in
which Mr. May's views and his style were extensively criticised. He bore his own part frankly, but
one who was usually present says," It never occurred to
me to hesitate in saying any thing, as if Mr. May would
care if I disputed or criticised him."
Mr. May was essentially a moralist and philanthropist. He valued greatly, therefore, the substance of
doctrine, but not much the details of speculation or
scholtrship.  Hence he was not a profound student
or a systematic reader, although his habits might have
been different in this respect, had his time been less
broken and consumed in benevolent activities. His




PERSONAL TRAITS AND HOME LIFE. 269
daily routine found him, however, always in his study,
and he never seemed so happy as when he could command quiet hours there. Entries often occur in his
diary to this effect: "A quiet morning with my books,
which I enjoyed exceedingly." He retired to his study
immediately after breakfast, often saying as he went in,
"Now I do hope no one will come to interrupt me."
But he could hardly say "No" to any caller, even on
his busiest morning. Living, latterly, at some distance
from the centre of town, he made that an excuse to
himself for letting in those who came; and so at dinner-time it was almost customary for him to enter the
dining-room with the half-pathetic remark, " There, my
morning has been all spoiled again." The ladies of his
household were always on the alert to protect him from
these intrusions, and would plead with him to let them
say he was engaged, but his kindness of heart constantly defeated their vigilance. An outer door, opposite the principal entrance, opened immediately into the
study; and if Mr. May heard the bell, and there was
the least delay, they were pretty certain to find that he
had opened this before they reached the other. He was
always very contrite, but never reformed in this respect,
although he confessed that he often impaired thus the
quality and finish of his literary work.  Finally the
study door became well known to all that needed him;
and the unfortunate of all colors, tribes, and religions,
with agents, missionaries, and reformers, seemed to go
to it by instinct. He was patient with them to the last
degree, hearing every story out, and showing himself




270        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
incapable of brusqueness or irritability with a human
being. He detected imposture with more skill than his
compassion left him credit for, yet probably his judgment was often overborne by his indulgent sympathy
and pity. His sense of humor also relieved the tedium
of these innumerable inflictions; and he had many a
hearty laugh at the oddities of such visitors, and at his
own sufferings. The grave respect with which he would
discuss the whims of some poor fanatic like his longtime friend, " the Prophet of the Everlasting Covenant,"
was admirable. And it was not hollow either; for
his quick sympathy made him love to gratify the poor
visionary on whom every one else would, he knew,
turn the cold shoulder.
One story illustrating this patience is worth telling
here. An aged believer in the Trinitarian theology had
convinced himself that he could exhibit to Mr. May his
doctrinal errors by a sort of Socratic method, and requested him to appoint a time when he would be willing to submit to it. His plan was this: The discussion
was to be in writing as to the main points, although
limited conversation was to be permitted, if necessary,
in arriving at them. Each disputant was to be allowed
a second, who was to remain wholly silent unless appealed to. Mr. May consented to every proposition,
and with a trace of glee invited a friend of similar
temper to act upon his side. At the appointed hour
the aged apostle appeared at Mr. May's study-door,
with his second, and a huge pile of manuscript. A
table was provided, at which all parties took their




PERSONAL TRAITS AND HOME LIFE.         271
places with pens and paper, and total silence reigned.
The disciple of Socrates was intensely grave; Mr.
May and his second with some difficulty restraining
their sense of the grim humor of the occasion. The
duel began with a shot from the aged Calvinist. He
wrote and passed to Mr. May this question: No. 1,
"Do you believe the Bible?"    Mr. May inquired,
"Do you mean to ask if I believe every word in the
Bible to be true, or whether I believe in its general
historical and doctrinal purport, and accept its spirit?"
The old gentleman reflected and replied, "The latter."
Mr. May thereupon wrote as his answer, " I do." It was
now, by the terms of the agreement, Mr. May's turn to
write a question. He wrote, "Do you believe the Bible
to be true and correct in every particular, or.do you
concede the existence of some defects, interpolations,
mistranslations, and inconsistencies of narrative?" Becoming evidently a little perplexed, his opponent presently wrote his reply: "I admit the existence of some
such defects." It was now time for question No. 2.
All waited in solemn quiet for it to be written. The
old gentleman reflected long, fumbled and studied his
MS. He had evidently expected Mr. May to give some
sort of negative answer to his first question, and the
affirmative reply had thrown his line of battle into disorder. At length he rose, and with considerable candor said: " Mr. May, I have been in error. Your views
are evidentlydifferent from what I had imagined. I
supposed you did not believe in the Bible. I thank you
for your courtesy; but, if you please, I will withdraw




272        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
from this discussion." "Certainly," replied Mr. May:
"I am only glad if it has shown you that you had misjudged my position. You will certainly want, however,
to understand Unitarian views better, and I wish you
would accept from me some of our publications." The
old gentleman assented, and Mr. May proceeded to select a considerable number of tracts from the supply
he kept always on hand. They were graciously accepted,
and the apostle of Calvinism prepared to depart. Before
taking his leave, however, he said, solemnly, " Mr May,
I have only one more favor to ask; and that is, that
what we have just written may be consigned to the
flames." Mr. May at once gathered up all the leaves
and scraps which had been employed, and threw them
into the fire; and then, very gravely, with his MS.
and his. second, the proposed agent of his conversion
withdrew, carrying quite a body of Unitarian literature
under his arm. When he was fairly out of hearing, Mr.
May (as his second in this duel tells us) leaned back in
his chair and actually shook with laughter, till the tears
ran down his cheeks.
We have elsewhere remarked that Mr. May, although
devoted to many benevolent reforms, and incessant in
private charity, remained always characteristically a
parish minister. This sphere he loved unreservedly,
and felt to be his chosen field of permanent service.
His habits of life, which were very uniform, conformed
to this, and were always those of a pastor. The morning, as we have already said, was passed in his study,
reading or writing, unless interrupted; the afternoon he




PERSONAL TRAITS AND HOME LIFE.         273
devoted to parish visits and to charitable or other active
offices. After dinner he dressed, and with his cane, a
constant companion, set out for town.' His cheery voice
was always heard, before he started, calling up to his
wife a good-by, asking her commissions, and indicating
his probable programme for the afternoon. His parish
being widely scattered, and his engagements outside it
being so varied, he was apt to be absent from tea and
to return only during the evening; an infringement
upon his home life which he always regretted, but
which the distance of his home from the centre of town
made almost unavoidable. Returning, he enjoyed reading awhile aloud from the papers, or, when time permitted, some article from a magazine or passages from
books which were interesting him. He retired by ten
or half-past ten, and was almost instantly asleep. Six
or seven hours was all he cared to sleep. He used to
say his best thoughts came to him at dawn; and he
wrote much before breakfast.
He loved to see his family all together at the breakfast-table, and depended on its being a social and cheerful meal. His own good health made him always fresh
and ready with hearty greetings and interest in all the
doings of the day before and plans for the day to come.
A great part of his life he conducted a simple religious
service before leaving the breakfast-table, and was always fervent and happy in it. But he preferred to
omit this rather than to persevere in it through any
kind of disturbance, or when all were not in the mood
for it. He always inclined to read from the New Testa12*                R




274        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
ment. One winter, however, all his family being absent
except Mrs. May, he read through at this hour the
Prophets and a large part of the historical books of the
Old Testament, expressly to refresh his memory and
hers. He afterwards wrote to his son that he had
been astonished to find how large a portion of the Old
Testament was practically valueless. He had really
forgotten, he said, how much of it is unintelligible, uninteresting, and remote from the concerns of modern
life. "What a pity," he exclaimed, "that instead of
spending money and pains to reprint and circulate such
material, we cannot, instead, make familiar chosen passages, from whatever source, which should really be
inspiring and suggestive."
We do not desire to eulogize in writing of Mr. May,
but we should not satisfy the grateful feelings of his
family if we failed to place on record here the loveliness of his bearing in his home. He practised no virtue
abroad which was not fully paralleled in his most private
life. Devoted affection, unselfishness, thoughtfulness,
responsiveness, cheerfulness, were his unvarying charaeteristics, and they made a sunshine throughout his
house. As the head of his family, he loved respect, but
exacted no peculiar attention to his individual wants or
tastes. He seemed to have no selfish wishes, and certainly had neither moods nor whims. His serenity,
born not more of temperament than of principle, was
uniform. The fret of daily life seemed scarcely to touch
him. "It is a literal truth," says one of his children,
"that I never in my life heard my father utter an irri



PERSONAL TRALTS AND HOME LIFE.         275
table or impatient word." He bore interruption of his
own pursuits with complete patience, and entered instantly and heartily into the interests or wishes of the
youngest of his family. He liked to be admitted to
the confidence of his children, and, when.he could command leisure, to participate in their pursuits. He craved
manifestations of affection: a pleasant word, a smile, or
loving act, touched him tenderly. He loved to be
cordially greeted and to be caressed. He used to say,
when one was paying him any little personal attention,
4 How I love to be muched!" i.e., made much of. One
of those who waited on him in his last illness writes,
" He was the only man who ever when sick deserved
the name of patient.' "
He was earnest to gratify his children's tastes, and
to secure them any enjoyment on which they set their
hearts, but, above all, to provide them every possible
opportunity of education. On his own gratification or
comfort he spent neither money nor thought; but for
them he would sacrifice every thing. Never enjoying
a large salary, it was not easy to give them the advantages he wished. But he strained every nerve to keep
them at good schools, and to provide them the privileges of more advanced training. A principal reason
with him for removing to Syracuse was, he often remarked, the expectation of securing his children a better education and a better start in life, as well as of
keeping them about him as they grew up.
It was always a pleasure to him to see his family all
together and happy. The noise of children's play never




276        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
disturbed him, he used to say, so long as their voices
were happy. When engaged himself, if he passed
through the family sitting-room, there was always a
beaming smile of satisfaction on his countenance. In
every success of his children he took a loving pride;
always visiting their schools frequently, and often
examining them at home, to observe their progress in
their studies. But his affection was always governed
by principle; and he was so much opposed to false
methods of stimulating pupils, that, when one of his
children who attended an advanced school where no
ranking system existed, received the approval of the
instructors so peculiarly that they proposed to confer'a
special rank, Mr. May requested themnot to do so.
Mr. May's married life, ended on earth by the death
of his beloved wife in 1865, extended over a period of
forty years. Mrs. May was the daughter of Peter
Coffin, a highly iespected merchant of Portsmouth,
N.H., who removed, in middle life, to Boston. Lucretia Flagge Coffin, who became Mrs. May, was distinguished in youth for her great beauty of person; of a
singularly bright mind, a vivacious and sensitive temperament, earnest for mental culture, strict in moral
principle, of strong religious feelings, and actively
though quietly benevolent. She was a most devoted
wife and mother, a diligent housekeeper with the traditions of New England, a skilful and gentle nurse, and a
constant reader and student. Of her intellectual thirst
and the attainments to which it led her, Mr. May was
fondly proud. She was a good historian; read French




PERSONAL TRAITS AND HOME LIFE. 277
habitually throughout her life; and in her last years
took up Italian and learnt it, unaided, well enough to
pursue the principal Italian poets with fluency and
enjoyment.'The best modern literature of our own
language she closely followed, while the older English
writers she knew almost by heart. With the books of
her husband's library she was almost more conversant
than himself. She was a daily student of the Bible,
which she usually read in French, and was quite extensively acquainted with Scripture literature. On questions of criticism Mr. May often appealed to her with
great confidence and respect. During the earlier portion of their married life she was his constant companion in the arduous duties which then devolved,
especially in a country parish, on the minister and his
wife. From these she was debarred in later life, by the
impaired condition of her health; but her private charities and domestic activity never ceased. She was a
warm  and cordial personal friend, lively in familiar
society; while the poor and unfortunate who came
within the reach of her benevolence had no kinder
word of gratitude for her husband than for her.
Generous and self-denying to an extreme, she was
judicious in practical affairs, and a better manager than
her husband, who always said that the worldly embarrassments in which his somewhat uncontrollable generosity involved him would usually have been escaped if
he had consulted her. The home was always a place
of refuge for passing unfortunates, and was familiar
with the tread of almost every man or woman who




278         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
has contributed conspicuously to American reforms.
Among these latter, Mrs. May, always a painstaking
hostess, had many particular friends. Of those we are
now at liberty to name, Theodore Parker and Wendell
Phillips were, perhaps, the chief. But in the equal
hospitality with which she treated the various and innumerable guests whom her husband's sympathies and
temper brought to their home, the humblest shared as
fully as the most illustrious.
The union of these two was marked by a deep
and unchanging mutual affection and tenderness. The
domestic and personal sacrifices to which a career like
Mr. May's exposed them, she shared with perfect acquiescence; and her husband watched with devoted sympathy over the ill-health which in her later years
afflicted her, and which a less unselfish and more popular course than his might in some measure have prevented.
On the occasion of her death Mr. May wrote, among
others of similar tenor, the following letters, in which
his respect and affection for his wife are faithfully
shown -
SYRACUSE, May 8, 1865.
MY DEAR FRIEND, -My day of sorrow has come. The
dear wife with whom I have lived in love forty years has left
me. I rejoice for her sake, but grieve, oh! how sorely, for
my own. She has been a sufferer in the flesh for thirteen
years, crippled in her ability to be as useful to others as she
longed to be. The good she did to those she had it in her
power to befriend showed how much she would have done
for very many more, if her ability had been equal to her
desire.




PERSONAL TRAITS AND HOME LIFE.             279
But her pure, timid, compassionate, conscientious spirit has
now left the poor body in which she suffered so much, and
has entered, I believe, into a more glorious body, in which
she will be able to go upward and onward in that career of
improvement which she longed for, without encountering
the impediments that here beset her path.
In accordance with her often expressed wish, her funeral is
to be quite private; and I wish that you would be with us at
the time, and speak to us the words that shall seem to you
fitting, and offer such prayer as the spirit of sympathy with
our human infirmities and confidence in the Divine wisdom
and love may inspire.
Yours truly,           SAM'L J. MAY.
Mr. C.-D. B. MILLS.
SYRACUSE, May 18, 1865.
DEAR BUCKINGHAM, -Your very tender letter of the
11th was the first of many that have come to me since the
death of my precious wife. If earthly friends can uphold
me, I am sure I shall not fall; and I feel also that the
almighty arm of the Heavenly Father is supporting me.
I did not know that so many who sympathize with me in
my bereavement knew so well how much I have lost.
You, and others who have written me, speak of my dear
wife very discriminately.  Shewas not only bright, yea,
often brilliant, but she was perfectly sincere, single-hearted,
and pure as an infant. Her respect for the true and the
right was profound. Her thirst for knowledge was insatiable. Her pursuit of it was diligent, and often urged her
beyond her strength. She delighted in the conversation of
intelligent persons; and one of the many pleasures that have
been granted her during her latter days was a long visit, the
last of March, from her special favorite, Wendell Phillips.
She enjoyed him to the utmost; and a sweet letter, just
received from him, assures me that the pleasure was mutual.




280         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
We buried her body on Wednesday at 5 P.M., by the side
of her darling grand-daughter. Mr. Mills officiated, and said
most beautifully all that the occasion required. Give my
love to your wife.
Truly, affectionately yours,    SAM'L J. MAY.




CHAPTER XX.
CLOSING     YEARS.
PRESIDENT OF THE BOARD OF EDUCATION.-INSTRUMENTAL IN
PROCURING THE ABOLITION OF CORPORAL PUNISHMENT.
A NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE NAMED FOR HIM.- CHOSEN PRESIDENT OF THE ALUMNI OF CAMBRIDGE DIVINITY SCHOOL.
-HIS INTEREST IN THE NATIONAL CONFERENCE OF
UNITARIAN CHURCHES.- STATES HIS THEOLOGICAL OPINIONS. -REGRETS THAT WOMEN WERE NOT INVITED TO THE
FIRST CONFERENCE. - FRATERNAL FEELING TOWARDS UNIVERSALISTS. - RESIGNS HIS PASTORATE - PRIZES THE
LETTERS SENT TO HIM. - TAKES GREAT PLEASURE IN
NOTING THE HARVEST IN WINDHAM COUNTY, CONN., FROM
THE SEED WHICH HE SOWED THERE LONG BEFORE. - HIS
P'REFERENCES." -HIS VIEWS OF THE BIBLE.
/R. MAY'S interest in public affairs was never
~V more deep and lively than during the last ten
years of his earthly life. When his fellow-citizens manifested their appreciation of his worth, if not also
their regret for some of the indignities to which he had
been subjected on account of his fidelity to principles
which they finally accepted, by choosing him President
of the Board of Education, he entered upon the duties
of his honorable position with earnestness and diligence.
The schools of Syracuse derived great benefit from his
experience as a teacher and his life-long observation of
the best methods of instruction.
His influence in behalf of the abolition of corporal
punishment was very great, and his face was never




282        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
more radiant than when he told of the success of such
experiments as that of appealing to the hopes rather
than the fears of pupils. "We are saved by hope,"
was one of his favorite texts; and he believed, with all
his heart, in the duty of judicious encouragement.
In one of the Syracuse schools the teacher adopted
a plan of having a medal to be awarded to the class
which should make the most creditable progress from
time to time. This class chose from its own number a
boy who should be the medal-bearer. The most indolent and mischievous boy in the school soon began to
feel his obligations to his classmates, paying more attention to his lessons, and being less frequently reproved
for misconduct. His class gained the medal; and his
classmates, of their own accord, chose him medal-bearer,
to reward him for the efforts he had so evidently made
to improve in his deportment and scholarship. The
reformed boy was completely overcome by this generous tribute.
This story afforded Mr. May unbounded pleasure,
and he was. fond of citing it as an illustration of the
latent nobility in the human breast. He took an honest
pride in the new May school-house which was named
for him.
Honored in his own immediate country, this faithful
prophet was also revered throughout the length and
breadth of the land. His presence at any gathering
in the East or the West added to the happiness of
the whole assembly. His election as President of the
Alumni. of the Cambridge Divinity School was only




CLOSING YEARS.                 283
one of many expressions of reverence and love for him
in his old age.
With all his love of manly independence and his
respect for individual convictions, Mr. May was such a
lover of his kind, that he longed for associated action
whenever it could be obtained without any sacrifice of
principle. Therefore he was pleased when the call for
the convention which organized the National Conference of Unitarian Churches was issued. His opinions
at this time are well expressed in a letter to Rev.
Edgar Buokingham.
SYRACUSE, Feb. 8, 1865.
DEAR BUCKINGHAM, -Your wise and witty epistle of the
1st reached me on the morning of the 2d, and prompted me
to reply to you immediately. But I thought it better to wait
until after we should have seen what the committee would
propose for the Convention to do.
The programme is better than I expected, and yet indefinite, just as is the condition of our denomination. And yet,
though I foresee not what will be done, nor indeed very
clearly what it will be best to do, I think it advisable to hold
the Convention. If it shall be, as I trust it will be, largely
attended, and by churches and ministers of every variety
of Unitarian, liberal, and rationalistic belief, by supernaturalists and anti-supernaturalists, it will serve one good purposeq at least: it will make us better acquainted with each
other, and with the unsettled state of our ecclesiastical
body.
I hope the Convention will be enabled to define simply and
clearly who ought to be considered professed Christians and
who real Christians, and at the same time allow that many
may be dear children of God who are not Christians; that
purity of heart and righteousness of life alone can make any




284         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MWAY.
one acceptable to the Heavenly Father; and that if any men
do attain that purity and righteousness without the aid of
Jesus Christ, they will still be accepted by him and by God.
It seems to me self-evident that the acknowledgment of
Christ's authority as a teacher of divine truth and a leader
of salvation is indispensable to the Christian name and to
any standing in the Christian Church, but that such acknowledgment alone will not entitle any one to consider himself,
or to be regarded by others, as a true Christian, if he is conscious of suffering any impure desires or unholy purposes
to dwell in his bosom, or is seen by others to be a worker
of iniquity. And, on the other hand, if a man is conscious of
pure desires and upright intentions, of earnestly aspiring to
know and to do the will of God, he may look up as much
as any other man may, with expectation of the Divine approbation; and if his Christian neighbors see in his life the evidences of his piety and benevolence, they should accept him
as worthy of their fellowship, although he may never have
heard the name of Christ, or may have failed to be convinced
that he was a teacher sent from God. Please let me know
how much of this statement you are ready to indorse.
For my own part, I am a supernaturalist, or what others
would so call. I believe that Jesus worked miracles. I believe that he raised dead men to life, and that he himself
arose from the tomb in which his lifeless body had been
buried. But I do not believe that his miracles are the most
important things that he did, nor does he seem to me so to
have regarded them. I believe that he was, or will be, more.than any other man, the Saviour of the world, because he
inculcated the principles of true righteousness, the righteousnbss of God, more clearly and forcibly than any other teacher
had; done; and because he illustrated those principles and
manifested their- power in his own life and death.
I believe that Jesus of Nazareth was the best teacher of
true religion that ever yet has lived; and that, as a Christian
minister, it is my duty to persuade all whom I can influence




CLOSING YEARS.                 285
to put themselves under his instruction and guidance; to
learn of him and imbibe his spirit, as the surest way to salvation.
And I believe that when men shall have become holy as
Christ was holy, miracles will no longer seem supernatural
to them, and that some of them may do even greater works
than Jesus did. Do you agree with me so far? It is my
intention to attend the Convention, and to take along with
me the two best men I can get to go. Why have not women
been invited? God made man dual, and it is not wise nor
safe for us to be singular in our attention to any of the great
concerns of life. I wish we could have such women as Frances
Power Cobbe and L. Maria Child and Lucretia Mbtt with us.
I am sure their counsels would aid us as much as those of any
men we shall have there. The emancipation and enfranchisement of women is the great work to be done before the
human race can do and become what the Creator intended
them to be and do.
Are not the Universalists to be invited to the Convention?
They ought to be recognized by us, cordially and gratefully,
as a most valuable part of the body of liberal Christians.
They have borne a most faithful and persistent testimony
against the greatest of all the abominable doctrines of the
orthodox theology; and the brightest, the kingly'Starr, in our
Unitarian constellation, was one of their number.
Yours truly and affectionately,
SAMUEL J. MAY.
He seems to have attached a special value to the letters which were written in acknowledgment of copies
of his " Brief Account of my Ministry," preached when
he was seventy years old. These cordial notes from
Samuel E. Sewall, Francis G. Shaw, Charles Eliot Norton, Adin Ballou, Maria W. Chapman, John H. Heywood,
John W. Chadwick, and many others, were carefully




286        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
preserved. We found them in a package which also
contained other papers that must have been very
precious to him, including a fine letter fiom Sister
IIieronymo, who seems to have been at the head of St.
Mary's Hospital, at Rochester, N.Y. Under the date
of February 20th, 1867, she writes to her "esteemed
friend," expressing her faith in his sincere regard for
her, and her knowledge of the deep interest that he had
ever taken in establishments which had for their end
"the alleviation of suffering humanity," invoking his
assistance. There must have been a beautiful sympathy
between the Roman Catholic Sister of Charity and the
Protestant Brother of Mercy. Her letter closes, " Yours
in Christ."
He took much satisfaction in observing the harvest
which had sprung up from the good seed which he
sowed in Windham County, Conn., many years before;
and it was with great delight that he saw, in 1865
or 1866, that his old county gave a large majority in
favor of giving the ballot to colored men, when all
the other counties of the State gave majorities against
the righteous measure.
On the 19th of July, 1869, Mr. May gratified a
daughter of his old friend and classmate, Dr. J. P.
Spooner, of Dorchester, by writing in her Book of
Preferences that his favorite flower was the Pond Lily;
his favorite color, Light Blue; his favorite musical composition, "The Last Rose of Summer;" his favorite
painting, Johnson's "Drummer Boy;" his favorite dissipation, Russian Backgammon; his favorite virtue,




CLOSING YEARS.                287
Charity; his particular aversion, Cant; the animal that
he liked best, a Little Child; his favorite prose-writers,
Dr. Channing and Theodore Parker; his favorite poets,
Whittier and J. R. Lowell; his favorite preacher, Edward E. Hale; his favorite singer, Miss Wheaton, now
Mrs. Morgan; his favorite male character in history,
Jesus of Nazareth; his favorite female character, Mary
L. Ware; that he would prefer to spend the summer in
Massachusetts, and to live in the United States; that
he would be satisfied with as much money as he could
spend wisely; that, in his opinion, a man should marry
at twenty-five, and a woman at twenty-two; and that
the journey that he should prefer to take would be a
trip to California.
About six weeks before his death, Mr. May addressed
the following letter to the editor of a paper which had
contained an erroneous account of his views of the
Bible: 
To THE EDITOR OF THE "l SYRACUSE JOURNAL."
I have just read in your daily " Journal " of last Saturday
a very meagre and, in several particulars, inaccurate report
of the semi-annual meeting in Utica, last week, of "The
Central New York Conference of Liberal Christians." I am
sure that, if a full verbatim report of all that was said in the
discussions at that meeting could be laid before your readers, they would receive a very different impression from that
which the statements in your paper of the 13th must have
made.
The most important subject discussed by us was the one
proposed by Mr. Gerrit Smith: " What is True Religion?
and What are its Requirements? " All the speakers, if we
except, perhaps, Rev. Mr. Jewell, of Rome, agreed that true




288          LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
religion is the harmonious development of our moral nature,
in accordance with the laws of God inscribed by him upon
our hearts. We can all partake in some humble measure of
the Divine nature, and the true religion is that which leads
us to unfold that divinity and keep ourselves in harmony
with it. Jesus Christ, the highest, best teacher of religion,
continually appealed to the sense of the right, the true, the
good, which he knew must be latent, if not patent, in all his
hearers. Many of his instructions were given in parables,
from which they were left to draw the intended lessons by
their own discernment.
It was insisted by several of the speakers at our meeting
-especially by Mr. Smith, Mr. Mills, and myself - that the
Christian world has been misled into the greatest errors by
assuming, the Roman Catholics that the Pope, and the Protestants that the Bible, is the highest authority in matters of
theology and religion. To assert and maintain the infallibility of the Bible is as absurd and dangerous as to assert and
maintain the infallibility of the man who occupies the papal
chair.
I repeat what I said at Utica. "The Bible is, I believe,
the best of books. In it we find the highest, the sublimest
moral and religious precepts, and the most glorious revelations of the character of God and of the nature and destiny
of man. But it is not all true, not all of equal value and
authority. There are in it many words that could never have
come by inspiration of the pure, benevolent, and holy God.
There are in it things which I am not willing my children
should ever read. Indeed, I have often wished that we had
an expurgated Bible."
In another part of our discussion I said: " It seems to me
necessary, in the first place, to define what Christianity, the
true religion, is. It is not to be learnt equally from all parts
of the Bible; from the words and acts of the writers and distinguished personages in the Old Testament as well as the
New. Jesus Christ is the best teacher of Christianity, which




CLOSING YEARS.                   289
I revere as the truest, highest manifestation of religion ever
yet made to man. We should learn it of him. We should
study his life and character even more than his words. Christ
was the impersonation of Christianity. We should contemplate his conduct in all the various scenes of his ministry,
ufitil we feel the influence of his spirit, and realize that what
he was we should aspire and strive and pray to become.
Respectfully yours,       SAMUEL J. MAY.
SYRACUSE, May 16, 1871.
Rev. C. D. B. Mills writes to us:" In his last sickness I saw him several times. He seemed
not to be apprehensive that he was nearing the end of his
earthly career, at least he was deeply preoccupied with plans
of future work, and so probably hardly thought of any interruption at hand. His mind was clear. The desire to do
some things that lay immediately before him was very strong,
but there was the same calm poise, and the peace that had
habitually marked all his life. Once he said he hoped he
should live two or three years longer to accomplish some
work that appeared to him of high importance.'In the
fall,' said he,'I purpose to offer to our Society a series of
Lectures on the History of the Bible, that very valuable,
least apprehended, and most idolized Book.' He was very
anxious to state himself more fully upon this point of the
true character and just apprehension of the Bible, as his
views had been made the subject of attack and gross misrepresentation by a Baptist preacher of Syracuse, at the very
commencement of his sickness.
"On another occasion, referring to his past life, he remarked
that on review he now saw he had committed some mistakes,
that there were things in the history he would fain wish were
otherwise.'But in purpose I have wrought for Truth; I
have sought to do for humanity.'  Referring to the views
that he was coming more and more firmly to hold regarding
13                    s




290         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
authority, the historic in religion and the ideal standards,
he said:'In large part alone, and at some personal cost to
myself, I have worked my way along to light and liberty.
I see more and more clearly, feel increasingly sure, that I
come here to the solid ground, the bed rock. I stand on it
firmly and with full assurance. The past I cannot regard
with regret, or view my life as a failure. It has realized,
has netted something: it is in a fair degree accomplishment
and success. The course I have pursued is vindicated to my
best judgment, and I feel that all is and shall be well.'
" This was the substance of what he said: I cannot reproduce the exact language."




CHAPTER     XXI.
DEATH AND BURIAL.
His LAST DAY ON EARTH. PRESIDENT WHITE'S VISIT. —
FAITH IN IMMORTALITY. - IMPRESSION MADE BY HIS
DEATH.- FUNERAL SERVICES.
M    R. MAY'S death was quite sudden.     In the
spring of 1871 he planned a visit to New England of considerable length, but severe illness prevented
his leaving home. At the close of June, however, he
felt much better, and began to look forward again to
seeing his Eastern friends once more. On Saturday,
the 1st of July, he was remarkably bright and hopeful,
spending several hours in most animated conversation
with those who called upon him. To one person he
made cordial mention of James Freeman Clarke's book
on " Ten Great Religions," then recently published, and
spoke at length of its great merits, with frank allusions
to what he considered some limitations and defects. In
the afternoon a visit from President White, of Cornell
University, gave him much pleasure. He was delighted
to learn that a generous man had offered the University
a very liberal gift, upon the condition that young women
should have the same advantages as young men in that
institution. Mr. May promised to give the college his
portrait of Prudence Crandall if this should be consum



292         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
mated;' and he parted with Mr. White in the most
cheerful and affectionate manner. Indeed, what proved
to be their last words on earth to each other were overflowing with joy and hope. President White said that,
in view of the rapid advances of great causes which Mr.
May had so much at heart, he must consent to live at
least thirty years longer, to enjoy the triumphs of truth
and right. As President White left the room, Mr. May
called after him, "Andrew, you must let me off with
twenty years," and received the playful reply, "-No: we
really cannot spare you for thirty years." 2
About ten o'clock in the evening he became very ill.
As his strength ebbed away, he manifested a desire that
his daughter should kiss him, and then, with a farewell
smile, his spirit took its upward flight.
On Sunday morning, his old church being closed on
account of Mr. Calthrop's vacation, many of his parishioners were in Rev. Mr. Mundy's congregation, and fhe
announcement of his death from the pulpit was so startling that the services were interrupted by the sobbings
of the bereaved people. The whole community were
deeply impressed.   Colored people at once put on
1 Mr. May had already presented to this University his large and
valuable collection of books and pamphlets relating to the antislavery contest.
2 This characteristic playfulness did not indicate any lack of his
habitual earnestness. His sincerity was such that he could always
be spontaneous. In another mood, not long before, alluding to the
uncertainty of his recovery, he uttered these remarkable but equally
characteristic words: "If I die, I may have a clearer vision, but I cannot have a surer faith."




DEATH AND BURIAL.              293
mourning badges, as they had done when Mr. Lincoln
died. The daily papers contained long and glowing
tributes to his worth, some of the heartiest expressions
coming from the Democratic organ.
NOn the days between his death and burial, the house
of his son-in-law, Mr. Alfred Wilkinson, with whom he
had lived, was visited by many friends from far and
near who wished to look once more upon his face.
Gerrit Smith came from Peterboro, notwithstanding his
own illness, and also wrote: "Mr. May was the most
Christ-like man that I ever knew. He made Christ
his pattern; and how successfully, was proved by
his never-failing gentleness, meekness, and sweetness.
Heaven is more desirable to me now that my dear
May is there."
On the morning of Thursday, July 6th, there was a
private service at Mr. Wilkinson's house. Rev. Frederic
Frothingham read appropriate passages of Scripture,
Rev. W. P. Tilden prayed, and Mr. A. Bronson Alcott
made an address of indescribable beauty, delicacy, and
tenderness. At ten, o'clock the. body was removed to
the church. Not long afterwards the household reassembled to listen to the reminiscences of Mr. George B.
Emerson, Rev. W. P. Tilden, and others. Mr. Emerson
spoke of his early and ever-growing love for Mr. May,
of their college life, and of the delightful Sunday evenings which he had spent with him at Colonel May's
house in Boston. Mr. Emerson believes that in going
to Brooklyn, Conn., and declining calls to other places,
Mr. May was governed by the consideration that in




294        LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
worldly goods it was the poorest parish, and least lilely
to obtain a desirable pastor.
After the precious dust had been placed in the familiar church which was exquisitely decorated, before
the pulpit from which he had spoken so many bold and
loving words, it was visited by a great number of persons. "The casket rested upon a base of clematis and
evergreens. On the lid lay a' shock of wheat fully ripe
and fit for the Master's use.' Over the centre rested a
crown of lilies, roses, and ivy: at the foot lay a wreath
of clematis and geraniums." " All sorts and conditions
of men" seemed to be attracted to the spot. Among
those who came and went were members of every denomination and political party. Protestant Daughters
of Mercy stood beside Roman Catholic Sisters of Charity; and Indians, with "persons of African descent,"
were near the fairest women and the chief men of the
city.
Just before the time appointed for the public service,
a violent rain-storm came; but the people were too
much in earnest to be hindered by it. Until the doors
were opened, there was a crowd in front of the church,
which was soon densely packed. Twenty-one clergymen were present, including a Jewish rabbi. The President of the Board of Education and other members of
the Board, with many teachers, came. The Mayor, the
member of Congress, the Superintendent of the Asylum
for the Feeble Minded, and other prominent citizens,
including at least one Roman Catholic, were pall-bbearers. Rev. Mr. Calthrop prayed. Thomas J. Mumford




DEATH AND BURIAL.             295
read selections from the Bible. Rev. C. D. B. Mills, of
Syracuse, delivered an eloquent address, in the course
of which he said: "In the last century the hut of a
noted Indian, Logan, chief of the Cayugas, is said to
have been recognized by his brethren as they passed
it, by the inscription:'Here lives the'friend of the white
man.' But upon the door of that unpretending house
standing upon yonder hill-slope might have been inscribed through all these years,' Here dwells the friend
of all men!"' Mr. Garrison followed with an admirable
delineation of Mr. May's character, including a most apt
quotation of Wordsworth's " Happy Warrior." Bishop
Loguen, of the African Methodist Episcopal Church, a
noble-looking man of gigantic stature, then spoke very
tenderly of this friend of himself and his people. Rev.
W. P. Tilden read excellent notes from Rev. Charles
Lowe and Rev. R. R. Shippen, who acknowledged Mr.
May's great services to the Unitarian cause; and Mr.
Tilden added his own tribute of personal gratitude.
After prayer by Rev. F. Frothingham, "Nearer, my
God, to Thee," was sung, and the services at the church
were closed with a benediction.
Hundreds followed the body to Oakwood Cemetery,
two miles away. Along the route we noticed flags at
half-mast over little houses which seemed to be homes
of colored people. When we passed citizens on the
street, they stood with uncovered heads until the procession had gone by. Upon reaching the grave, the
Sunday-school children, who had been unable to get
into the church, were formed in two lines, and sang a
hymn: —




296         LIFE OF SAMUEL J. MAY.
"In that sweet by-and-by,
By-and-by we shall meet
On that beautiful shore."
Rev. Mr. Calthrop spoke of the grand lessons of Mr.
May's life, and called upon the young men present to
heed them. President Andrew D. White, of Cornell
University, said: -
" Here lies before us all that was mortal of the best man,
the most truly Christian man, I have ever known; the purest,
the sweetest; the fullest of faith, hope, and charity; the
most like the Master.
" When the Sermon on the Mount was read this afternoon,
it seemed prophetic of the man. It was not'Blessed are
the pure in heart, who accept the Thirty-nine Articles;' not'Blessed are the peacemakers, who subscribe to the decrees
of the Council of Trent;' not' Blessed are ye when men shall
revile you, provided ye agree to the Westminster Catechism.'
No. The blessings of that greatest of utterances since the
world began were without human tests, and they fell upon
our friend in full measure, and his life was the radiant witness of them, and we all saw them.
" Had our Lord come upon this earth again, and into these
streets, any time in these thirty years, he was sure of one
follower. Came he as black man, or red man, or the most
wretched of white men; came he in rags or sores, this, our
dear friend, would have followed him, no matter what weapons, carnal or spiritual, were hurled at the procession.
"I account it among the greatest of blessings that it was
given me to know this man; and I shall always rejoice that
in the last afternoon of his life I spent a most delightful hour
with him, and bore away his blessing."
He was followed by Thomas J. Mumford, Rev. C. D.
B. Mills, and Rev. E. W, Mundy.      After the casket




DEATH AND BURIAL.                    297
was lowered, the Sunday-school children, one by one,
dropped flowers and tears into the grave. This ended
the touching service; but the people still lingered, as
if reluctant to leave the spot.' Although night was
at hand, it was some time before the cemetery was
deserted.
1 His little grandchildren coming up' to cast in their flowers, a
common impulse to follow their example seemed to run through
the throng of older friends; and perhaps the most affecting incident
of the day was the eagerness with which they crowded forward to
express in this personal way their love for Mr. May. Any thing
like a flower, even a leaf from a tree, was enough; and before
the earth covered it the casket was already hidden out of sight.
18*
Cambridge: Press of John Wilson and Son.








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MESSRS. ROBERTS BROTHERS' PUBLICATIONS.
AUNT JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
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is not possible for the reader to do otherwise. We have found the book very
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From the New York Tribune.
The large and increasing circle of juveniles who sit enchanted year in and out
round the knees of Miss Alcott will hail with delight the publication of " Aunt
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Mrs. Hale, in Godey's Lady's Book.
These little stories are in every way worthy of the author of " Little Women."
They will be read with tLe sincerest pleasure by thousands of children, and in
that pleasure there will not be a single forbidden ingredient. " My Boys," which,
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From the Providence Press.
Dear Aunt Jo I You are embalmed in the thoughts and loves of thousands
of little men and little women. Your scrap-bag is rich in its stores of good things.
Pray do not close and put it away quite yet.
This is Louisa Alcott's Christmas tribute to the young people, and it is, like
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A r
"As there was nobody to see, he just sat down and cried as hard as Dotty
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The above picture is one of twenty-seven which illustrate
THE NEW-YEAR'S BARGAIN.
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Max and Thekla, the hero and heroine, live in the famous Black Forest.
Wandering in the woods one day, they came across an old man who was
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the twelve months. He had a jar full of sand, - the "sands of time," -and
Max put some of it in his pocket, when old Father Time wasn't looking, and
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This stealing from Time caused a great commotion, though Max con,
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the book will tell you all about.
"The New-Year's Bargain" is an elegant volume, bound in cloth, gilt
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2The new book by the author of "' The New Year's Bargain,"
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" I have been reading "The Rose-Garden " with real delight. It is a perfect
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" It is very long since we have met with a story more thoroughly deserving of
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The wtiter's skill in delineation of character is very far beyond that of most novelists of the day; and this skill is shown, not in elaborate and pre-Raphaelite attempts at description, but in the few but telling touches that show the true artist.
It is, indeed, a rare gift to have the power of writing a domestic story which, while
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Comprising the stories of "Monare," "Domitia," "Appollyona," and " Ombra." A beautiful red-line edition. Square
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From the N.Y. Tribune.
"Arabesques," a series of romantic, imaginative sketches, by Mrs. R. S.
Greenough. This comprises four stories of the supernatural, each illustrated with
a medallion head by a son of the authoress. The first relates how Monare, an
Egyptian dwarf, and slave to the Turkish sultan, steals the signet of Solomon
out of the treasury, and sends it through the air, over sea and land, until it drops
at the feet of the young Knight of Ilzuly, and summons him to the deliverance
of her fellow-captive, abeautiful Christian maiden. The second is of" Appollyona,"
the terrible sorceress, an embodiment of the deathful powers of evil. Woven into
this story are the two legends of " Sardanapalus " and " The Veil of the Temple,"
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From the N. Y. Indeependent.
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taken from Oriental sources. They are nearer, in form and in spirit, to Washington
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they describe similar regions, terrestrial and infernal. They are fuller, however,
of enchantment and of the supernatural than Irving's romances; they are more
completely removed from the world of prose; and they have -partly in consequence of this fact, and partly in consequence of the graver genius of Mrs.
Greenough-a more profound and varied range of imaginative effects.
Sold everyvwhere.     Mailed postpaid by the Publishers,
ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON.